A Dwarf's Death

[Watyll 1104]

It was a quiet night at Kal'Anart. The winds were blowing softly, and the stars twinkled like great diamonds. Grimherst Grandaxe was enjoying the breeze as he stood on the land bridge to the palace of lord Bazian. But mostly he was enjoying the flask of ale in his hand. It was a fine night to get drunk, and drunk Grimherst was. He was leaning against the wall of the land bridge when it happened. The masonry crumbled a bit, allowing a chunk of the gaurdrails on one side of the bridge to fall away. It was the gaurdrail that Grimherst was leaning against. With that, he toppled over the side, plunging toward the ground below. Grimherst's life flashed before his eyes. Memories of wandering Asulon, and serving in the dwarven military came to him. He thought of his family, and his clan. He thought of how Bazian took him in as an apprentice. He snapped out of his memories on time for one final act of defiance towards death. Grimherst, roaring in fury, drew his axe, hurtling at the earth like it was an orc warrior. Then, the impact. Grimherst died instantly, his shattered body lying next to the great mountain hold. He died like a true dwarven warrior, an axe in his hand and the taste of ale on his mouth.

[TEEbrown 348]

Walking home from visiting Kal'Dwain with the new deeproad connection, he dust off his shoulder from the deep caves. He climbs the steps of Kal'Anart and hails to the guard to open the gate.

"'ail, let th' gates rise ter th' lord ov th' mountain!"

The gate guard says nothing and slowly cranks the gate. Bazian raises a brow to this but says nothing in return. He walks into an almost desolate town, usually busy with passing faces. Curious, he wanders around looking for the population of the hold.

Hearing a commotion coming from the housing area, Bazian crosses the bridge to the area. He approaches the large crowd of dwarves with a few elves in the mix. Bazian puts his hand on the shoulder of one of the dwarves and turns the lad to face him.

"W'at beh wit' all t'is commotion laddie?"

The dwarf has a face with great sorrow as he slurs out some drunken words, barely audible. "Thhh' ad jus' ... el..."

Bazian brow furrows at the response the dwarf gave him. Unsatisfied with this dwarf's response, he pushes through the crowd to see what has happened. Pushing through the inner circle of dwarves, it dawns on him the gravity of the situation. Bazian's face goes pale seeing that the fallen dwarf is his apprentice and brother, his lower lip quivers in immense sorrow and pain.

"W-w'o did t'is?!" Bazian exlaims in his sorrow.

He walks over and kneels down beside Grim, wipes the sweat from his brow.

"'e was jus' ah lad..." He whispers to himself.

"Dere was nothin' weh culd do." Whispers Skath as he puts his hand on Bazian's shoulder.

A look of rage returns to Bazian's eyes. Bazian shrugs of Skath's hand and stands up, grabbing Grim's axe, stuck into the ground from impact.

"Ah want ter know w'o did t'is!" Bazian yells as he turns, facing the crowd.

The crowd looks back with slightly surprised faces, but still ones of sorrow. They say nothing.

"Was it y-yah?!" He points Grim's axe at a taller elf with a look of crazed rage in his eyes.

The elf studders a bit. "Wh-who.. Wh-what?"

Bazian slams the axe back into the ground. Taking a deep breath he walks back over to Grim, takes off his crown and places it upon the dead dwarf's head. Bazian begins to hum an old dwarven tune.

He picks up Grim's lifeless body in his arms, and carries him up to his mountain keep, humming.

[More on this. http://www.lordofthecraft.net/forum/index.php?/topic/66196-an-old-dwarf-cires-out/ ]

[Boomack21 124]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.