An Emergence

[PtahWithin 1320]

A weak winter sun hangs low, generously gifting light to the snowscape. The trees, normally kept warm by the sun, sleep in branches lush with leaves of ice. A strong summer sun will one day wake the trees again. This is not a cold, lifeless forest however - at least, not for their current passenger. His boots do not crunch down on the snow: the white world lessens into footprints by itself, not wanting to be an obstacle to him. He has had many.

His grandson did in fact give him a rough map, but a dwarf as old as he could not be expected to hold on to many things for long. The wind was his navigator now, doing its best to gently push him in the right direction despite having the sharpest of hands. When he breathed, the trees took it in and their dreams were filled with walking and silence.

The wind paused, retracting its razor hands. He shook his colorless beard, and turned to face the wind. He nodded and grunted, bringing about his walking stick to travel in the direction the wind was pointing. As he limped off towards the tavern, the wind left. Others needed its attention now.

Within, there was a soundscape of hoary laughter and the singing of etched ballads and bar songs. He brought his silence with him and gifted it to his fellow dwarves as he pushed open the door. Ponderously he walked towards the barman at the counter, watched by all his bearded kin in the room. The barman saw him and stopped filling a half-empty mug, setting it down on the pine counter.

Reaching the counter he stopped, and looked up at the barman before rummaging around in his pockets. He drew a folded piece of paper and nodded to himself, then turned to face the others in the tavern. In a revenant, tired and coarse voice he spoke:

"Tis I be named Holris. Me grandson bid me to be travelling, to be delivering a message from him."

With that, he turned back to the barman, and handed him the folded note. He unfolded it, and read it aloud to the present company with a much more resonant voice:

Hear my song brothers, listen to me please,

The journey's been hard, I have gone by Dungrimm's decrees,

I've crossed oceans and deserts, and all in between,

Coming to mountains of snow, pines the deepest green,

I have been gone long brothers, o'brothers forgive me,

I pray that you find me, I sing so Dungrimm may guide thee,

Yours hands may be golden, your beards warm and dry,

But my beard is still frozen, and so hear my cry!

Through fire and frost, the steel is tempered,

Through feasts and fights, the fallen are remembered,

But do not sing, my name yet brothers,

For I have not perished, I have not joined our fathers,

Hear the mountains' call, hear my bellows and screams,

For my hammer still sings, its gold still gleams,

Brothers come join me, in mountains that rival the sky,

For the Frostbeards still sing, in feasts and in battles we cry!

((poem by liam btw, whole thing approved by him in case you were wondering))

[Gorum© 623]

Gorum sets his mug on the counter, watching as the old man arrives with the folded note. As the barman unfolded it Gorum stood up from his stool and walked over towards the two.

" What are ye lads lookin' at der? "

Gorum asks, gesturing his hand forward as if asking for permission to view the note.

[PtahWithin 1320]

After the note is read, Holris turns to face the dwarves and now sees Gorum. Seeing his open hand, Holris nods to the barman, taking the note and giving it to Gorum.

[Gorum© 623]

After Gorum reads the note he turns his gaze towards the old Dwarf, confused as to how he got his hands on this.

" This is none other than a Fros'beards writing. Whu are ye? 'ow did ye get yer hands on dis? "

Gorum asks, placing the note back onto the bar counter.

[PtahWithin 1320]

"Tis I be already an answering that, tis I be named Holris. 'n aye, tis I be a Frostbeard. I twas living as a solituding in the wilderness, when I was met by a one named Liam Frostbeard, 'n we soon discovered our kinshipping. We twas were a traveling together, 'n he asked me to return to his kin and deliver this here note."

[Gorum© 623]

Gorum rubs his beard.

" A fros'beard eh? Then ye be me kin aswell! Fer Liam be me cousin. It be an 'onor to meet ye 'olris, truly ye be a Fros'beard that lived during th' time ov me ancestors har har. Tell me kin, whu did ye leave be'ind in th' famileh before yer departure? "

[PtahWithin 1320]

Holris winces slightly at Gorum saying 'leave behind'.

"Liam had it being told to me that his father were me son Thodal. If ye tis a being his cousin, then ye are being the progeny of my son Karl or my son Aerion."

[Gorum© 623]

Gorum laughs aloud, smacking Holris in the shoulder.

" Den ye be me grandfather har har! Ah be th' son ov Karl Fros'beard, firs' born o' 'is name. Aerion be me uncle. It truly be an 'onor tu see th' one whu raised Karl th' Orcbane Fros'beard, ye mus 'ave a lot ov stories up yer sleeve har har! Per'aps ye can tell some ov em over a cup o' ale sometime. "

[PtahWithin 1320]

Holris nods and smiles, holding onto Gorum's arm.

"Aye, tis I be having a few stories I suppose. But I be a thinking that ye have many thing I would wish to be a hearing first, the state of the clan 'n the dwarves in the world. I have been a being long removed from such a hearing of things."

[Gorum© 623]

Gorum nods.

" Aye then grandfather, ah shall inform ye on these things, but fer now let me show ye around th' citeh. Ye 'ave missed a lot. "

[Boomack21 124]

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