A Harsh Return from the Cold

[Terry 1859]

A Harsh Return from the Cold

Ulfric, upon his Adventures through the Cold Mountains, 89-90 S.A.

---

 

His departure for the Mountains was meant for many things.

 

Peace, quiet, a time to grieve past losses, even a bit of searching to name a few. A time to think, determine what might come next in this long life of his. 

 

Perhaps he’d hitch himself back to Urguan, assist in the problems that, from what he heard, were only growing there. Or maybe he’d give up Urguan completely, move fully to Akueli or the Vale, where he knew he had good friends he could rely on. Maybe he could even take up the role as leader once more. A role he, to this day, grows more and more bitter with leaving behind in the way he did. 

 

These thoughts plagued him as the freezing and numb feel of the cold mountain gave way to heat and shelter. As he undid his chainmail and laid his shield against the stone of the cave he made home in, he would think to himself, turning to his humble home of rock. “Odd,” is what would come first, as his brow furrowed. “Have I really come this far in life, as prior Lord Justiciar and Grand King, to lone pilgrim in the mountains?” He’d question to himself. He’d shake his head as he went outside to collect snow for water, putting it on the fire to boil. His thoughts would continue to rumble around his head for the rest of the night, through dinner, through his bout of letter-writing, all to culminate in an explosion of rage as he gathered firewood.

 

---

 

---

In what would typically take Ulfric 10-15 swings to down a tree, his rageful and adrenaline-filled state downed it in only 3.

---

 

---

It was here, in the calm after the storm with nothing but the sound of his breath and beating heart, that Ulfric’s mind finally cleared, for once since his abdication it gave him a clear path forward. From here, he went to his letters, hastily writing as the words presented themselves, and as the letters were sent, the plans began to form. 

 

Ulfric was back, and he intended to make the most of his return.

 

---

 

  To My Fellow Urguanites,

 

Urguan is dying, dying from a sickness that has plagued her for a long time now. From a sickness that, like us, has persevered, for better or worse. 

 

Every monarch that has stood on that throne, from Jorvin and his predecessors, to Norli, Levian’Tol, myself and now Bakir, consciously or not, has tried to heal this sickness to no avail. But no matter how our effort varied, this sickness persisted, latching onto the populace no matter the King, no matter the agenda.

 

It has become clear to me now that Urguan itself cannot be healed through arbitrary means. I praise my fellow Kings for their efforts, whether they were purposefully trying or not, but it is a painful truth that we all must face now.

 

The Grand Kingdom of Urguan is withering, and only through major reforms can its course be corrected.

 

For eons we have carried on the legacy of our forefathers, and with great merit. It is from them that we have what we have today, and forever shall we be thankful. But this has stagnated our peoples and has brought our creativity as dwed to a screeching halt.

 

For eons we have carried the name and ideals of Urguan, but we carry the ideals of dwarves from different times, in a different world. We listen to their advice on how things should work, but alas, they do not work today as they did back then. But yet, we keep listening, intent on the fact that they know best and that their support is needed until we become the very thing that plagues us. We are afraid that if we stray from the path they put us on, they will come back to force us back towards it. If we do not adapt to these new times and new challenges, how are we to survive alongside our allies? How are we to survive alongside one another?

 

The truth is as plain now as it’s ever been. Urguan is bloated, locked in the past. Too much land but not enough Dwed to effectively administer it. Too much pride, but not enough dwed to share in it. Too many grudges, but not enough dwed to see them through. Urguan must become something more if we are to live on. 

 

But it will not. Not with its current administration.

 

I know this all too well. Towards the end of my administration, and especially during the War of the Wigs, Urguan began to decline, and it left me with a choice. Step down, allowing the people a new ruler with new ideas to reinvigorate them, or allow my pride to stand in Urguan’s way. I chose the former, and my pride aside, it was the best decision for the Kingdom.

 

Bakir, you face this decision now. I hope for the sake of our future, you make the right one. Step down and allow your successor to make use of a new slate to reforge Urguan, or do so yourself. A King never wishes to be remembered wrongly, and such I wish not for you. 

---

 

Grand King Emeritus, Great-Grandson of Rhewen

 

[Serf 579]

"GIVE ALARIC ANOTHER CHANCE! LET HIM BECOME GRAND KING!" Screamed a Glodite fanatic from mountains of the Grand Kingdom.

[SoulReapingWolf 2258]

"You know this wouldn't be happening if we had Alaric's railroads." a masked Glodite fanatic would tell anyone he'd cross paths with on the tavern.

[Nooblius 5794]

A golem marches forth from the temple, and nails to the bulletin board a public reply to Ulfric’s letter.

 

ᚢᛚᚱᛟ-ᚡᛖᛚᛖᚱᚨᚴ-ᛖᚱᛟᚾ-ᛞᚨ-ᚱᚺᚨᛞᚨᚡ’ᚴᚨᚱᚨᚨᛞ

ᚾᚨᚱᚡᚨᚴ-ᛟᛉ-ᛞᚨ-ᚴᛁᚱᚴᛃᚨ-ᛞᚡᛖᚱᚷᚨ

 

The fate of Urguan has likewise weighed heavy on my mind, and I have been struck with dreams regarding the fate of our kingdom for many nights. It is evident that such concerns are brewing among many dwarves, as countless have spoken their discontent to me in confidence. As is my obligation before Khaz’A’Dentrumm, I offer the wisdom of the Rhun and its maker to the history of our ailment.

 

In years before our own, the first Under Kingdom of Urguan was a bastion of power and tradition in the old realm. With the guidance of the Brathmordakin and our progenitors, dwarven industry and prosperity was unmatched. Despite the glory of the Stone Age, an evil haunted the hallowed halls of our ancestors. Khorvad, still wore his disguise as honored patron under the World-Maker Yemekar, and began to forge schemes for his greatest atrocity to come- the Great Collapse.

 

Khorvad could not so easily undo the foundations of the divine dynasty, for the stone of dwarven society was stalwart and resisted his machinations. To this end, Khorvad elected not to wage open war against the sacred Brathmordakin but rather brewed a most-vile curse to weather down the honor of Urguan from within; Tagum.

 

Best translated in common to Stark Raving Madness, Khorvad’s curse of insanity on the forged soul would corrupt it subtly so that it would lose sight of the Rhun, whether knowingly or in ignorance, and seek out instead pride and ambition. It did not lead to one foul act but thousands, and this curse began to spread throughout the Under Kingdom in the eve of the Stone Age. Through the Golden Age it swelled in the wealth of trade, and in the Iron Age it began to manifest as monarchs became more militant and prideful, forgetting the humility before Khaz’A’Dentrumm. The Silverbeard Dynasty would end in the disaster of weak rulers seeking to be strong, only to be usurped by far stronger and far fouler folk; Velkan Ironborn.

 

Sons and Daughters of Urguan, I have served the Fourth Grand Kingdom and that Under-Realm which preceded it for far over a century, with sabbaticals far and few between. To both my predecessors and successors I was a chief advisor, and have fathered many of Urguan’s greatest changes. My peers are humbled before me, and I before the gods, who have blessed me throughout my years with a graying beard and wise eyes. This prophetic gaze I cast upon Kal’Darakaan, and I read the cracked stone of our pillars for their hidden meaning.

 

The stone of the mountain is smote, and crumbles under the weight of madness.

 

If we wish to retain the glory of Urguan our ancestors built, we must make radical change before their legacy is tarnished. The Fourth Grand Kingdom is on a march towards its doom, spurred on by the violence and decadence of tagum, the very same that began the Age of Blood. For all the kinslaying and madness that haunts Kal’Darakaan, it is nothing compared to the calamity to come if we do not change course. We must put the traditions of the Brathmordakin before personal ambitions, and make our primary goals as a culture the development of our industry, the veneration of our patrons and the enduring campaign against Khorvad and his enemies.

 

For all talk of politics and reform, I offer this reminder to my kinsfolk. The Senate and even the monarchy exists as a means to an end; the truest efforts of the dwarves must be found in the folk, not the schemes of ambitious bureaucrats. The Workforce shall not abide these debates, and will make efforts for the honoring of Yemekar and his pantheon regardless of the state of political affairs, as it has in the past.

[Legoboy7984 2441]

The Grand Chancellor, Agnar Grandaxe, rubs his beard upon reading the missive.

"Well.. this should be interesting and I wonder what sort of response the Grand King will make."

[HIGH_FIRE 4106]

The Ghost of Sir Duncan Vuiller would wonder if the old Grand King still had 'DUNCAN' branded into his face. The fleeting thought would pass quickly as he goes to plan some ghostly activities.

[Pancakehz 1697]

Gror Ireheart packed his things after receiving a letter from his nephew “Was only a matter of time I suppose.” He said to himself as he ventured back to his homeland, axe in hand.

[Badgermordakin 590]

A hooded Glodite lurks in the shadows and whispers to all those who pass "Alaric never would have let this happen"

[hotbox_monk 955]

Rhaezaiil dipped a quill into a jar of ink and began to pen a response, but his mind clashed within itself.  He failed to impart anything meaningful upon the parchment and crumple after crumple he would try and try again.  The dark dwarf furiously flipped the desk and began to pace back and forth within his quarters.  “Harken me blood o’ my blood.  A storm is brewing.”  The lord beard murmured to himself as he sundered himself to the stone beneath his boots.  Picking up where he left off he began to jot and scribble multiple letters upon the floor.  Like a mad dog he growled and barked at himself whilst sealing each scrolled parchment with the Dorkadrelian Sigil.  A wearisome sigh left him as he sent each and every one within the clawed grasp of Doomforged ravens.  “Now…. To find the King.”  

[xMuted 2459]

Sigrun Ireheart shakes his head. "Change es needed."

[_Grey_W0lf_ 598]

Ursus Grandaxe would sit idle in his room, reading through the letter again and again, slowly shaking his head "Problem beh en foindin' tae roig't leader, but te qualitehs beh rarer 'nd rarer t'ese days." He sighs and stands up, moving towards the forges "W'oevah or w'otevah well come frum t'es message, oi bettab beh readeh."

[Scatmanpro 120]

Bromdor Goldhand shrugs as he reads the lengthy message. "Oi dinnae knuw anehfin' 'boot politics. Oi'll let t'oseh otah dweds figureh et oot. Oi will go alon' wif w'at t'ey plan if oi aught et roight." 

Edited August 27, 2022 by Scatmanpro

[kindEmperor 997]

A Doomforged read the missive, somewhat of a smile curling around his ash lips.

"And here I rest, and here I break my slumber. . to find a dwarf to speak up so now the 'truth lurks at the break of the mountain. Wonderful ! How Splendid !

[Xergarok 295]

Grimdal Irongut would send over his gnome assistant to make a copy of both missives. "Both 'o t'em put dah way many dwedmar feel on paper. Ah'm glad, et's t'ese missives t'at'll become dah catalyst 'o change. Ah 'ope, 'n ah believe, thanks tah dah optimistic views 'o many, t'at weh can overcome t'es problem." he told a Beardling who wondered what he had done to deserve this monologue. 

[Lefty 1696]

As Axel Ireheart is sitting in the Dancing Dreek tavern within the walls of Axholm, he receives word of the letter sent around by the former failed Grand King, Ulfric Frostbeard.

 

"What a damned fool. Any dwarf who styles themselves 'Grand King Emeritus' or uses their ancestors name to try and make their claims seem more impactful and trustworthy is a big-headed swine. Ulfric has no feats of his own to claim, his reign was that of inactivity, stagnation and fool-hardy decisions. Ulfric forgets that without Bakir, we would have lost the war against the former Empire of Oren, and those plentiful lands that he claims are wasted, we would not even control to begin with. Ulfric forgets that it was he who did an excellent job in losing our Blackvale and Ferrymen allies, ensuring we lost all the ground we had in a war he claimed sole glory for. By the end of his reign, our coffers ran dry, our streets were empty, and our glorious nation was but a former shadow of itself. He will go down as one of the worst Grand Kings in our proud nations long history, yet his legacy was saved by Bakir's ability to turn Urguan's fortunes around by winning the war against Oren, dismantling the Empire of our most ancient foe, and restoring Urguan to one of the worlds most powerful nations. We were well within our right to campaign for Ulfric's removal, yet we did not, and allowed him to resign peacefully, even when he had lead Urguan into ruin. Now after he returns from his self-imposed exile, he claims that Bakir should step down, after all he has achieved and done for our Grand Kingdom. Ulfric has made no attempts to reform anything or radicalize change within Urguan, he only makes baseless claims and demands of our Grand King due to the shame of his own damned failures. I doubt Ulfric has even spoken with Bakir openly about these perceived problems with our nations. Instead he hisses from the shadows, like the snake he is. Had he actually opened a dialogue with our Grand King, perhaps he would have learned something about the future of our nation, and realized this demand was not necessary. Unfortunately, this is what our glorious nation has come to, people choose to scheme and plot in the background, instead of speaking with honour to a dwed's face. I agree that our nation has fell off from it's old days of glory, but not at the fault of our Grand King, but because of cowards and cravens such as Ulfric Frostbeard."