Bad_skeelz

That was indeed the meaning. However, I do find it interesting to learn that you "don't deal with Alras" and would like to hear more about that. As close as the nations are to one another (and with the massive building projects Alras is undertaking while we carry out similarly-massive excavations) it would be strange if there was no room for growth of trade.

Mmm, perhaps a meeting should be arranged between our respective High Merchants, then. They would know how to improve trade between our nations much better than myself. But your idea of a meeting with the High Chancellor of Oren is a good one, Bazian. Continue with this, find out how stand the Sons of Urgaun in the eyes of the Sons of Horen. Inquire as to whether his nation has been threatened directly by the Undead or other evils as of late. The Evil One seems to be resuming his assault on Aegis; I have received reports of so-called "possessions," even seen one first-hand. Find out if anything similar has occurred in Oren. It would please me if all other Ambassadors would do likewise in the course of their work.

Everyone relax. Availer's just tracking down Whacky Qaddafy so he can get the $1,000,000 bounty. And when he does, VIP perks for everyone!

To be posted to all relevant message boards in the city of Kal'Urgaun, so that all who wish to read and are required to read may see it: To the Ambassadors of the Kingdom of Kal'Urgaun, your Archbishop calls upon you! As you may already know, I Fasolt Hemdallsson have been chosen by King Algrim to take up the office of Archbishop of our blessed city. In addition to serving him with counsel and serving the Sons of Urgaun with ministering, I am charged by the King to oversee the activities of his ambassadors. To my chagrin, I do not have a list of your names and assignments on hand. To remedy this shortcoming of records, and so that I might come to know you, I hereby order all Ambassadors of Kal'Urgaun to report to me, identifying themselves and their assignments as lawfully given by King Algrim. Each Ambassador shall also provide, in writing or in speech, a full report laying out the relationship between Kal'Urgaun and the nation to which each Ambassador is assigned. If an Ambassador does not feel he can give an accurate assessment, he is ordered to return to his assigned nation and remedy this immediately. I remind the Ambassadors that they are the first line of defense for the Kingdom of Kal'Urgaun. Rarely are blows exchanged between nations without many words, slights, and grievances preceding them. Warfare is merely the continuation of diplomacy by other means; if those 'means' are to be safely avoided, then Council and King must be kept appraised of the relations between our Kingdom and others. I may be found either in my cave-home (it is marked) in the Outer Kal'Urgaun Housing District, or in various locations throughout the city. I look forward to meeting you all and working together to keep our blessed city safe. So ends the decree of Fasolt Hemdallsson, Archbishop of Kal'Urgaun.

To the Sons of Urgaun, These accolades from King and subjects bestow far too much honor upon my humble self. Thank you all for your congratulations and well-wishes. The office of Archbishop is one surprisingly heavy with responsibility, the weight of which only now begins to settle upon my shoulders. By the Will of God and Urgaun His Son, I will strive to bear this responsibility as I would a load of the most precious ore from the mines. But let us not forget to also honor those Dwarves who also volunteered themselves for the good of Kal'Urgaun. Though it was I who was chosen in the end, they showed as much initiative and faith as myself in stepping forth. If any of them, or any other pious Dwarf for that matter, wishes to approach me with suggestions for how I might strengthen the Faith and the Kingdom, I will honor them with as much consideration as I would give the words of King and Councilors. Deep fortunes to you all. May we march together in Faith and Glory, Fasolt Hemdallsson Archbishop of Kal'Urgaun

Hail, King of the Sons of Urgaun. I, Fasolt Hemdallsson, humbly submit my application for the position of Archbishop. Why do I feel I deserve this position? No Dwarf deserves anything in life, save for a chance to do God and Urgaun's Will. I hope to earn the position of Archbishop by my piety, by my charity, and by my belief in the Divinely Ordained Destiny of the Dwarves: to dwell in the deeps that God has gifted unto us, and to carry His Light and Goodness into the dark places of Aegis. What is my take on War and Death? That both are inevitable facts of life in Aegis, put forth by God to test His Sons. It is the responsibility of all the faithful to face these and other trials with dignity, so that they might rise to and surpass God's expectations of His Children. To die in the service of God is the greatest honor that one can achieve in his or her brief life in Aegis. Whether Death finds you on the field of battle, or deep in the divinely-inspired mines with legs crushed and body pinned, it is important that we meet Death with dignity and Faith that God will find us worthy of everlasting glory. Of what I would do differently as the Archbishop, my most significant change would be to re-stress the Holy Covenant between God and Urgaun. Every one of God's four Sons was given a place of dominion within Aegis, and to Urgaun fell the deep mines and caverns of the world. It is the Divine Duty of the Dwarves to explore, to tame, and to marvel in the deep regions of God's Work. In reminding the Dwarven people of this fact, I fear that our previous Archbishop has fallen short. While his Cathedral is a fine example of craftsdwarfship, it is inherently Undwarven in that it fails to stress our holy connection with the Deeps. It is a surface structure, more reminiscent of the Works of Man than the Works of Dwarves. However, I do not believe architecture alone is significant enough to remind the Dwarves of their place in God's Creation. Charity and education must be undertaken to instruct today's youth (and no small minority of today's maturity) what is expected of a Dwarf. I propose the increased inclusion of new Dwarves in Kal'Urgaun society, providing them with tools and labor that help give them a sense of purpose in Aegis. I am pleased to say that I already see signs of just such inclusion, but believe it can be accelerated. The Church I believe can do more to materially aid the King in finding jobs for the unemployed. When a shortbeard first arrives in Kal'Urgaun from the Temple of Aegis, he should be greeted with kind words, handed a pick or axe and given clear instructions as to where he can Strike the Earth! As a humble servant of God, it goes without saying that I wish for peace among all His Children. The Kingdoms of Kal'Urgaun, Malinor, Oren, and Krugmar all bear the Holy Names of God's Sons, and quarreling between them should exist no more as quarreling should exist between brothers. To the Kingdom of Alras, I extend my respect and my sympathies. Much of my early youth was spent in its environs, and I saw first hand the weak leadership that led to the lamentable split between that Kingdom and the Dwarven fathermines. It is my devout hope that in future days Alras will be reunited with Kal'Urgaun, welcomed back as the prodigal son. Until that time they deserve our support as they work to recover from the Wrath of God that hath struck their city clean from the face of Aegis. May the King find this application sufficient, God's, Urgaun's, and His Highness King Algrim's Humble Servant ~Fasolt Hemdallsson

Wall Murals I was examining the newly delved halls in Kal'Urgaun, and while they be righteously and honestly done in the name of Urgaun, I could not help but think that they were rather plain. An idea suddenly occurred to me. In my previous works, I have twice decorated cave- and cliff-walls with stone wrought in an artful pattern: once depicting a portrait of my late father, and the second a mosaic of him at work in the mines. These were large artifices, well over ten meters tall, but they brought color and attractiveness to plain stone walls. I think our sacred city could benefit by similar pieces of art.

God has three other strong Sons to whom the surface was given to defend. The Sons of Urgaun are of course bound by holy honor to aid them, but we must not forget that the depths is the realm bequeathed to us by God. All that the Dwarves truly require of the surface is safety enough so that our lumberjacks can fell trees for torches. Still, some rejuvenation of our surface defenses is in order, just so long as we do not find ourselves violating divine prohibition against surface dwelling. It has been noted by the King Himself that Fort Irongut, which in years past kept safe the road from Kal'Urgaun to the Temple, has fallen into a shameful state of disrepair. As long as we are on the topic of defense, I would like to add that I believe the Fort should be refurbished or even expanded.

The cost of such a wall, especially such a wall that would encompass our blasphemous outer city, disturbs me as well. However, I do believe this idea has some merit. God has judged our surface dwellings and found them wanting, and our wise king is leading us back below ground to the proper realm of the Sons of Urgaun. One of the advantages of mountain-living is a reduced area necessary for external defenses. Our efforts at iron-building should be concentrated in constructing a gatehouse, a great bastion, that would defend the inner parts of Kal'Urguan from surface-launched attack. Let the outer works remain as stone, but make the heart of Kal'Urgaun's defenses one of iron!

1312, the Amber Cold. The King was generous, that Fasolt could not deny. Accosted on the streets of the city, the King had courteously agreed to stay and hear him out, an insignificant Wilds dwarf of inconsequential name and means. When Fasolt made his proposition, the King had listened attentively and patiently, there in the inner gates of Kal’Urgaun. When Fasolt finished explaining that he wished to offer his half-delved mountainhold of Butcherblock to the Kingdom as a colony, to better secure Dwarven interests in the west, the King gave him all and more respect than a Wilds dwarf deserved. He also gave Fasolt the answer he deserved. “A noble dwarf would remain here and help make Kal’Urgaun great. Aye, every Dwarf in the Wilds can be King in his own hall. But only here, in this city, can the Dwarves together build a community. A nation.” Fasolt could not help but agree. Dwarves were meant to stick together and help each other, that was the first lesson he had learned. Before he learned the tell-tale stench of cave gas, before he learned to pinpoint an approaching ghoul in cavern blackness by the echoes of its moans, he had learned that Dwarves cared for one another. The loose clan of Deep Miners were in many ways a people apart from the rest of Dwarven society, but isolation in the deep caverns of Aegis taught them to rely upon one another. “Don’t be going off alone to brood and fiddle,” his father Hemdall had ground out between swings of his mining pick. “Those that go alone, they’re dead. Cave-in, ghouls, pitfalls, hundred ways. And then, when someone they could of helped down the line is in trouble, well, they’re dead too. Dwarves ain’t meant for being alone, no more than we belong in trees, or deserts or in huts tendin’ sheep.” Fasolt then didn’t know what any of those things were, but knew from the tone of his father’s voice that they were nothing Dwarves were meant to truck with. With a clatter of stone the mining pick broke through and the wall crumbled into a cavity. The juvenile Dwarf peeked over his father’s shoulders as the latter knelt down to collect some redstone chunks and examine the new mine. Something in the torchlight cause his eye and gave him pause. “Come here, lad. You see this stone?” Hemdall tapped his on the stone floor, a gray-streaked and black stone, to no visible effect. “Even if this pick were of diamond, no harm would come to it. This is Godstone, lad. Put here by God the Father to seal his Covenant with our forefather Urgaun. No pick can break it, and it is only by the Grace of God and Urgaun that the riches of the earth are allowed to pass through the Godstone. Mining here be the limits of our ability, lad, even we the greatest miners in all of Aegis, but this be where the riches and the glory be. Down here, next to the Godstone, is where Dwarves belong.” Slowly making his way towards the outer gates of the city, Fasolt paused in his recollections to lean against a railing lining the road. This was a safety measure, hastily thrown up around the sudden crack that had recently appeared in Outer Kal’Urgaun, swallowing homes and roads. “The Crag,” it was called. Gazing down into the destroying maw, Fasolt thought of another calamitous crack in his life. For despite his father’s faith and sermons, the veins had not remained true at the Sacred Godstone. Ore veins would peter out in time, forcing more and more miners to slant their tunnels upward in search of materials as base as coal and iron. And one day, they dug too high. Fasolt reflected that the Orcs were probably as surprised as they were, both sides bellowing in surprise and fright as the shaft opened into daylight within the Orc encampment. Two warlike peoples, suddenly thrust together with nothing at hand but confusion and weaponry; bloodshed was inevitable. And like all fluids, blood flows down. The Orcs pressed relentlessly into the Dwarf tunnels, forcing their giant frames through chokepoints with brute determination. High galleries that had aided in the excavation of ore now served only to ensure that the Orcs did not knock themselves on the head. At last the mining camp itself was threatened, with all its riches and the kin of the Miners to young or old to be on the front lines. Over the clang of battle and the distant, shouted pleadings of his son, Hemdall’s pick broke through the damwall with the sound of thunder. A river of magma, freed at last from its industrious confinement surged across the warring tribes. Only Fasolt and the other short-beards were given time to escape before the tunnel was sealed. Left alone by the sacrifice of their elders. Fasolt had sworn that day that his father would not spend eternity graveless and unhonored. Braving the burning sun, he had gone to the surface and devoted his energies to building monuments dedicated to his father’s legacy. First there was the Hemhall, now abandoned beneath the urban sprawl of Kal’Alras. Then in the far west, beyond the lands of the Halflings, he delved his life’s greatest achievement: a mountain converted to a fortress, a mountainhome. The Butcherblock. But alas, Kin Algrim had no use for the selfish, isolated monuments of a clanless Dwarf. Fasolt kicked a pebble down into the Crag. He had promised the King that he would stay awhile before returning to his western exile. But what was there in Kal’Urgaun to entice him? At the Butcherblock he owned a mountain. In Kal’Urguan, he would be lucky to afford a cubbyhole. The few mansion halls, proper homes, within the mountain itself were long since claimed by more noble lineages, leaving only the half-timbered homes of Outer Kal’Urgaun of any appreciable size. Now even these were being swallowed by the Crag as surely as the magma had swallowed his father. These houses, constructed in debauched imitation of the works of Man must surely fall. With a start Fasolt’s gaze refocused itself on the Crag, just as his thoughts refocused on the words he had shared with the King. “Yes,” Fasolt told himself. “There is nothing here to keep us on the surface. In the space where you build a hundred houses among the woods and fields, you could delve a thousand within the earth.” He vaulted over the railing, landing with deftness among the rocks and debris of the Crag. It was all so clear to him now! This was no mere crack in the ground, a happenstance of geology. This was a Sign From God. “My father’s doom found him when he strayed from the Covenant between God and Urgaun,” Fasolt intoned as he stripped off his clothing and began to pick his way through the rubble. “It was from the surface that his doom came. It was on the surface that I built my vanity of Butcherblock. But I see clearly now, as if the darkened cavern was suddenly illuminated with the light of a thousand torches!” Among the victims of the Crag was the tent city of the Dwarven Army. Great sheets of cloth lay torn and splattered amid the chaos of the Crag. Quickly finding a suitable length, Fasolt fashioned the dirt-stained material into a robe. “We have all been mistaken for these years. Myself, the ten years spent in error at the Butcherblock. For my people, for the Sons of Urgaun, it has been centuries. God meant us not to walk beneath the Sun!” He raised his fist to the sky in defiance, his voice rising also. “The Sun! That fickle star, that daily cedes its reign in heaven to the ghoul-smile Moon! Harbinger of evil things! God has other strong sons to fight for the face of Aegis. It falls to us, the Dwarves, to battle evil in her heart. From the caverns whence we came, to the caverns we must return. To the Sons of Urgaun falls the task of carrying light to the places within the earth where the Sun is never dreamed of. The Call of the Crag must be heeded! We must cease our blasphemous imitations of God’s other sons and reclaim the realm that was given to us! “HEED ME, Sons of Urgaun! The dawning of our glory is close at hand, if only we brave the endless subterranean night!”

*Pulls on his beard in thought.* Humm. So, what's a Greek?

I have been hard at work constructing my own private fortress, and believe I have learned some tricks of the trade in the progress. I would like to submit my name for inclusion in the contest. -Fasolt Hemdallsson.

So are we voting for leaders in this thread still/yet? Or are was this just for applications?

The tale I heard went 'long these lines: A human thief broke in to King Charles Grimlie's private vault and lifted a good ton or so o' iron ingots. The King decided that the best course o' action would be to take the Army and march to the Gates o' Oren and demand recompense from the Human King on the threat o' War. Now, I don't rightly know just how the Human King responded, only that there didn't seem to be no war coming from this. But fer a time it sure looked like thar might be, and that's where Kal'Alras found itself in a tight spot. The Dwarf Lords o' Kal'Alras had cozied up to some nearby Humans and had just agreed to combine the two towns. If war broke out between Kal'Urgaun and Oren, then Kal'Alras was like to become a battleground between Dwarf and Human. So the city declared themselves neutral in any conflict between the two Kingdoms. I don't know what the Human King thought o' this, but Charles didn't take it lightly. Thar were demands of 128 diamonds to be delivered to the Dwarven King in return for recognition o' the secession; a steep sum to be sure. But right in the middle o' the crisis ol' Charles resigned the kingship! So far as I can gather from word on the streets, talks be kicked right back to square one. Thar ain't no war and the King in question ain't King no more, but the folks of Kal'Alras seem to like the smell o' independence and 'ppear to be goin' on ahead regardless.

Yeah, I had wondered if having Greek titles would necessitate an overhaul of the architecture. I wouldn't really think so myself, as Dwarven architecture already tends towards the monumental, and just having Greek titles shouldn't necessitate a complete overhaul of the city's character. The Orcs use a Latin title for their King but I don't see them building like Romans. Though maybe they do, haven't checked out that part of the world yet. And as far as Kaisar goes, in a Byzantine context it derives from Caesar which had become a title held by the junior Emperor or heir. The German Kaiser is also descended from Caesar, though in that language it designates a higher rank than Greek. Also curiously closer to the original pronunciation than English's "Seezar." You're right about the number of Archons. It comes from the Greek word to rule or to have authority as I recall, so that's why you see the "arch" root in a lot of other titles. Signifies authority. While the Athenians had 9, the word itself simply means Ruler so there's no contradiction inherent in not having as many. PS: Also I'd much rather be have the title of Despot than something generic like Lord. Just personal taste >.>