SimplySeo
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“Fear or phobia of the Underway, or the creatures that dwell within.” – 21st Edition Dwarvish-Common Lexicon
By command of the King and Council
(Penned by the office of the Lord Chancellor, 11th of Malin's Welcome 1740)
In a horrific turn of events, the celebratory feast today took a terrifying turn as it was interrupted by creatures of the deep. Ever since the purging of the Alamar (Alar) from our lands, the gates of our fair city have always been open to the underways, inviting guests a’plenty to visit the riches of the Dwarvish capital. From this open gate emerged several dog-sized spiders which soon set themselves upon the feast-goers. Though quickly dispatched by the company of Dwarves in attendance, this has led to the startling discovery that our caves are, perhaps not as clear as we once believed them to be. Cave Spiders have historically plagued the Dwarves for centuries, however there was the hope that, with descendants coming to this new continent no strain of giant arachnid lived within it’s underway. This proved false.
As of thus far, it is unknown if the creatures possess venom, though from our experiences with such beasts in the past, it is likely. The ones which attacked our folk this day seemed to range from cat-sized to that of a large dog, once more given our history with such creatures it is likely there are even bigger ones down in the depths of the underway, but this is yet to be proven.
The King has seen fit to take temporary control of the Legion in this crisis until a suitable replacement is found. Furthermore, a bounty has been placed on every pair of spider legs returned to the King, or other such proof of slaying. Despite this, venturing into the underway to collect is not recommended, as such creatures appear to hunt in ‘packs’ to easily overwhelm their prey. The Legion is to be re-armed with polearms as they are the ideal melee weapon for fighting such creatures, once the forges of Clan Starbreaker are operational once more, spears and pikes are to be mass-produced for Legionaire and Civilian alike. Do not attempt to engage these creatures in close range, as once more we do not know what strain of Cave Spider we are dealing with. No one is to leave the city without another, and in the event one must make for the surface alone, a Legionaire is to accompany them.
The following locations in the Underway are to be avoided by civilians at all costs until further investigation can identify the source of the infestation.
Deepfells
Bjor’s Watch
The Black Caves
Gimli’s Crossing
Nerrovarn
Thumrilgrad
”Stay safe sons of Urguan, for we know not what dwells in the deep...”
6 -
I like the fact diddling the demon dogs is punishable with death by fetus monster.
Perfect time of the year to post something genuinely dark, can’t say I appreciated reading it while I was checking the forums before bed, but holy **** its a damn good read nonetheless. Y’all should be writing novels.
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Honoring the Stalwart
(Penned by the office of the Lord Chancellor, 8th of the Sun’s Smile, 1738)
The age we live in is a tumultuous one kinsmen, one rife with stories of hardship and tragedy, this is not one of such stories. Oft our kin are put in harm’s way when venturing to the surface, for bandits stalk the roads whenever they can. In such times, when force of arms is what rules the roads our kin may be caught in the crossfire, such was the case yesterday as two members of Clan Grandaxe were taken captive. Their belongings taken and themselves tortured, it was uncertain if the Dwarves who’d been alerted would respond in time, their lives were at stake.
Thinking quickly, a party of three (two humans and a Dwarf) saw fit to aid in the return of our people, despite the dangers in conducting such business. Thanks to this trio, two of Urguan’s children returned to the mountains, weathered but alive. The appreciation for this deed cannot be understated, for we live in an age where most surfacers would not willingly endanger themselves for our kin. As a reward for their efforts, King Utak Ireheart has seen fit to declare a feast in honor of them, and the safe return of our kin.
(Sponsored by the Ruined Runesmith™)
Likewise, with the power invested in me as Lord Chancellor of Urguan, I bestow upon Septimus, Shayle, and Durin the moniker of ‘the Stalwart’
Narvak oz Urguan
Charged as we are by Yemekar
OOC: Feast will be held next Sunday at 4 PM EST, hope to see y’all there!
11 -
Accept it you cowards.
1 -
As the horrid events of the day prior no doubt plague Azdal’s mind Jorvin Starbreaker sets a hand on his brother’s shoulder, clasping it tightly. He moves to stand behind the other Dwarf, as they both peer over the ship’s railing.
The tone of his voice is drained, tired. Yet his words resolute.
”Talok rul, Kronul. Dag Khor’vaador moredos yllor. Arkon'are azkhron, Korthon moredos narhe krazdran morred.”
(Hold firm brother, that evil place is in the past, know no fear, because there is another battle ahead.)
2 -
((OOC: This is just a dramatization of yesterday’s event from the perspective of my character. Some details like exact dialog might not be 100% accurate because of memory but I did my best. Other details are completely omitted based off what my character didn’t see/notice/think was worth mentioning. For a proper post-event report, check out this neat lil post. Credit to Tha_Mystery_Man for the best event I’ve been to yet.
Deeper they descended down that taunt rope, Jorvin’s concern mounted as he looked above. As more and more people grabbed on, he feared the rope would split, but it did not and for that he was thankful. Still though his mind did not rest, a creeping sense of dread grabbed at his heart as further down they went. He shook it off, and soon his feet found the ‘ground’, if the visceral meat beneath their feet could be called such.
They had entered a chamber, and there they waited for some time. Long enough that many slept, aiming to keep their strength for the day ahead, Jorvin couldn’t join them. According to the oldest legends of their kind, here in the void dwelt Khorvad the Betrayer, It was to this realm he was cast to by their All-Maker when he made his treason. Khorvad only lusted after the souls of those who had been damned, every good Dwedki knew that from their lessons within the clergy halls of their kin, but...
Jorvin was hateful, he was ambitious, he was a kinslayer, and oft did he wonder if he was already damned.
Yet carry on he did regardless, to leave his father and brother in such a place would be a sin that, unlike the others he could not bear. As they remained in that chamber for half a day, he dwelt on many-a-thing. What would become of his Clan if the Starbreakers assembled today did not return? Without it’s leaders, would their clan wither into obscurity once more? Or would the enemies Jorvin made in this life see his line annihilated with him no longer present to protect it...? Foul thoughts indeed plagued his mind on that eve, fear for his immortal soul only one among many, though selfishly it was the chiefest. His Brother was Azdal, a mason as much as he was a shaper of metal, he was a truer son of Gotrek than Jorvin, something Jorvin knew well. His father was Kazrin the Remembrancer, one of the wisest Dwarves who drew breath, and who not once raised his blade against his kind, when he died Jorvin would not be surprised if he would be made a Paragon.
But what of Jorvin...? Whose leadership had seen the clan prosper to be sure, but at a cost. What would his name be? Jorvin the Treacherous? Jorvin the Child-Murderer? Or would his name be forgotten by the time his corpse was cold? He did not know, and attempted to shake free his mind from these thoughts.
As their party arose, he clasped his amulet tightly and issued a prayer to Yemekar and Dungrimm, and a prayer to Anbella to protect his daughters, and Ogradhad to guide them. He issued a prayer to Armakak to give them luck, and a prayer to Grimdugan to shield them in the Dark where foul things dwelt.
But as they marched on, and his iron boot squlched against the visceral ground, he realized that they were in no realm where the firelight from Yemekar’s forge touched, or the pale glow of Dungrimm’s moon. This was a realm that was alien to the Brathmordakin save all but one, and he hoped above all that he was not watching them.
And then there was calm.
A Party sounded inside their home, and half the realm was invited. They had come to make merry and to celebrate a joyous occasion, and though he could not particularly remember what, he did not care. He turned to the window, and his eyes scanned the wheat-fields as they were washed in the light of a setting sun. It was in those fields he, Azdal, and Ketlin would play as Dwedki, while the newborn Kazarath rocked with father in his chair. Many-a fond memory he had in this place, and he soon descended from his room to the kitchen, where mother had made dinner.
His kindly mother set the table, and the arrayed foods made his mouth water. Slabs of fresh beef and pork, rarer than father liked, but ideal to Jorvin. Hot buttery bread with cold beer, and fresh apple pie to finish it all off. Jorvin was tempted to start without his siblings or their father, but managed to fight the urge as his family made the meal all the better eating. Setting out the door, he went off to find their father in his usual perch.
Kazrin rocked in his wicker chair on the porch, as he had every night since Jorvin could remember. A book was in his hand, as it was just as common. He approached.
”What’cha readin’ da’? Looks loike ah’ good’n.” Jorvin had always taken after their father, his thirst for knowledge chief of all. Since childhood, Kazrin read with him, be it fiction or history, as Kazrin and his son alike were avid historians. Kazrin, whose brow was furrowed had a puzzled expression, as if on the cusp of a realization before he set the book down. Jorvin took the seat beside him.
”It t’was....Just a fiction, and a strange one at t’at.” Jorvin nods at Kazrin’s reply, before coming to a realization of his own. He’d yet to go get his siblings, hadn’t he? It was rude of him, Kazrin and mother had raised him better than that. He gets up, but as he does he hears through the open window, mother talking to their assembled guests in her usual, sing-song voice.
”What was that sweetie? No, Father isn’t home right now, only mother~”
The statement had confused Jorvin, after all was not father right here? “But moth-“ He is cut off by a swift hand at his mouth. Kazrin looks up at him, his expression not one of befuddlement any long, but deadly serious. He shushes Jorvin, and slowly shakes his head.
Something was wrong, that much had dawned on the elderly Starbreaker, and Jorvin soon realized as well, something...Wasn’t right. He staggers back, and takes a second look around. This was home, was it not? Then why could he see the sky, or setting sun? Where was the cavern’s roof, or the bustling shops that lined the chamber’s walls, within their district, in the halls of Kal’Tarak? Where was the gilded gate...?
As Azdal staggered onto the porch, his expression shifts into frantic terror, rushing forward he grabs Jorvin by the shoulders, and stammers out something Jorvin couldn’t make sense of. ”W’at did’ja jus’ say...?” He asks, and the reply that follows sent a shiver down his spine.
”Jorvin! When did ah’ lose my eye?!?”
It hit Jorvin like a truck, the illusion waning before his eyes, and the light cast from the sun is a crisp yellow no longer, yet blood red. Jorvin kicks down the door into the house in his haste, and what he saw shook him.
There mother stood in the center of all her ‘children’, back turned to him, dress stained in various shades of crimson and brown, the air he breathed in was no longer a pleasant smell, but that of death and decay, and horrid above all was the sight that met him on the table. The food was food no longer, and in it’s place, bloody visceral slop and organs, and fetted flesh, writhing with maggots. Yet still people ate happily.
It made his stomach churn, and it was a good thing he chose not to eat prior to this engagement, otherwise he most certainly would have emptied his belly’s contents on the floor. He was no stranger to the gore of war, but this...This was monstrous. His ‘mother’ turns to him, and her face was one that should not be. Fetted, flaking flesh that seemed to split at the seems, bulging veins which popped, spewing blood and pus on those situated nearest to her, and a smile that stretched from ear to eye, a gaping maw.
”KHAZADMAR! KHARVULTHREIN!” Jorvin screamed in horror, reaching for his weapon, at his bellowed shout the other Dwarves rushed in. The phrase ‘Dwarves! A Demon!’ seemed to shake them free of their illusions, though they held their constitution no better than he, save Kazrin, whose expression hardened. With the assembled party of Dwarves drawing their weapon, everyone who hadn’t broken free of the illusion seemed to then. Jorvin’s memories returned to him.
His name was Jorvin Kazrinsson, eldest of his siblings. His Father was beside him now, his presence keeping the other’s spirit, and his mother was Maeven Blackhammer, a Dwarf of pale grey skin and paler hair, a guard service of Kaz’Ulrah, who died upon the battlements of Nordengrad. Her body was naught but bones now, perhaps under a Black Iron suit of armor had it not been looted, there she lay in Atlas, under the frozen tundra that was once the only continent Jorvin had known.
This being was not his Mother.
Their party rushed outside with the rest to partake in this battle, the battle which would see their souls forever in torment should they fail. Jorvin ahead of them at his brother’s side, the realm made of that foul, fleshy substance had enclosed on them, as if they had been quite literally thrown into the belly of the beast...A fitting place for the realm of hunger he thought. The tiger-like creature which mother took the shape of approached their party, Jorvin’s eyes locked on her for a moment, before being cast upwards, a beating, writhing heart pulsed. It’s light casting a red sheen across the chamber.
As his sight was locked on the heart, he knew what to do even before Azdal shouted to him, shouting for him to knock out the heart with his hammer. His hand slipped to the leather strap at the end of it’s hilt, and soon he begun to spine the weapon. As others charged, he feared for his brother, leading the diversion...But the heart was obviously the source of the beast’s lifeforce. If it was slain...
This grudge would be settled, either by killing this creature, or if all who issued the grudge lay dead. With a bellowed warcry, he sends the hammer flying through the air. It homes in on it’s target, and soon thereafter connects...A thunderous boom sounds through the chamber, then...Nothing.
Darkness consumed his vision, the chamber giving way to empty nothingness...A true void. It gives shape to an open field. Battle had recently occurred there, weapons lay strewn about, and the grass was charred. Face up were the corpses of his brother and father, Azdal’s face had been split from his missing eye socket, it looked as if a sick mask threatening to fall from his skull, yet the amount of blood told Jorvin he had bled out. His kindly father lay disemboweled, his intestines spilled from his torso. Drag-marks marred the ground from several feet away, indicating he had pulled himself forward with his remaining strength to die beside his son.
A distorted shriek sounded throughout the field, and Jorvin’s vision returned to him.
Jorvin’s hammer struck true, wounding the beast! It’s heart writhed and swelled in pain, blood trickled form where his blow had hit. Jorvin rushed forward as he saw his hammer fall to the ground. Outstretching his arm, the hammer returns to his hand with such force it nearly threw him off balance, but Jorvin steadied himself in time, and looked towards the heart above his head.
He took aim once more, and flung his hammer. Another crack of thunder sounded throughout the chamber, and his vision contorted once more.
He returns from patrol to find Kal’Azgaryum a smoking ruin, fear for his home overtakes him and he rushes under the broken gate. He descends down the twisting cave and winding staircase, nearly falling in his haste. As he reaches the bottom, the sight in front of him caused his spirit to break. Before the steps of gate lay the remains of the once-proud Dungrimm’s Legion.
Utak Ireheart lay atop a mountain of corpses in his own right, he had clearly fought to take a thousand with him, but in the end his corpse lay defiled, and his beard shaven.
Fimlin Grandaxe laid upon the ground, his body surrounded by the scores of dead who fought to protect their King. His head was severed from his body, mounted to a nearby pike which bore the frost-capped mountain sigil of Clan Frostbeard as a banner hanging from it.
Worst of all yet were the Metalfists, Gimli and Dain fought valiantly, their pile nearly as high as Utak’s, but in the end they had been overtaken. Dain had died first, having took a Great-Axe’s blow to his shoulder, which cleaved down to the center of his torso before it was stopped. Gimli died second, a dozen arrows lodged in his chest as he seemingly battled to defend his son’s corpse from defilement, a final arrow found it’s mark in his neck, no doubt the killing blow.
With a panic Jorvin realized....What of the Starbreaker compound? What of Lulubelle and Stromnikar? But before he could rush to see what had happened to them...
”LOOK’OUT!”
Kazrin slammed into Jorvin, knocking him out of the way as the beast came down upon them, both narrowly missing being crushed. Kazrin and Jorvin were ragdolled to the side, though Kazrin, whom Jorvin once thought a frail old man was even quicker to rise than he, his hand extended.
”Tha’ hammer son!”
Jorvin nodded, and extended a hand himself. What little charge the hammer had left was spent sending it flying back towards it’s wielder, who caught it, and handed it off to his father. Kazrin spent several moments tightly holding the weapon, muttering in a language Jorvin made little sense of...But sure enough, the hammer’s glow returned to it. Jorvin picked up Kazrin, preventing him from falling over. Charging the weapon as much as he had, as quickly as he had, along with everything else he had done that day had spent the elderly Starbreaker, but he had done enough.
Mother would die
Jorvin spines the hammer once again, locking his eyes on the heart, even as Mother’s body nearly slams into him once more. Screams pierced his mind, Jorvin could not make out to whom they belonged, but they pleaded with him to stop. His vision darkened once more, a single burning eye pierced his vision...His daughters clasped in the hands of mother, on in each, their innards dangling as they had been mauled...Jorvin shook the image quickly though, for paying this one any heed would more than any other cause him to falter if he dwelt on it. His daughters would be safe, he would ensure that as he returned home.
The burning light from the eye however, did not fade with the rest of the vision...It barred down on Jorvin from where the heart once was, a voice impossibly ancient spoke.
”You do me great honor, Starbreaker. How long before you walk the path your kin had in ages past? You will serve in my throng in life, and in death your soul will be mine.”
His eyes burned, overpowered by that devilish glow...But through the flames, he could see an outline, and that was enough. He threw his hammer a final time, and as it sailed through the air, through the illusion before him...It made contact with something, ringing as it did so, before falling to the ground.
The vision disappeared, and Jorvin looked around...His father had risen to his feet, but his brother across the battlefield had fallen, and MOTHER collapsed beside where he lay as the heart fell. Recalling the hammer a final time, it was without any charge, all of it having been spent in that final throw, but he did not need it. As the beast fell, Jorvin rushed forward, leaping into the air as he came close...He brought all of his weight, along with his hammer down on her skull.
A sickening crack told Jorvin all that he needed to know. A second being came to gloat, the one known as Grief, Jorvin barely registered it and rose his weapon to the sky, uttering a single cry...A threat.
”Conjure w’at ye may, it cannae be wors’ t’en what weh’ve faced t’dae...Yeh’re next.”
The being uttered something on the topic of fate, but Jorvin wasn’t listening. He rushed to his brother where the Grandaxes had already begun tending to him, by the time the being left a portal had opened. Jorvin was the last one in, only entering once he had made sure the last of the Dwarves had done so.
They exited on a still smoldering beach, with a rising sun in the distance. With his distaste for sunlight being the last of his worries, he tossed his helmet off, and looked up. The burning eye had returned, casting the horizon in a red light, as the sea turned as red as blood, and beach was spattered with gore....But Jorvin merely shook his head, and focused on pulling Azdal towards the rest of the wounded, by the time he looked back it was gone. The sight shook him to be sure, but he had come to a conclusion. If Khorvad truly did desire his soul, he could come claim it. But until then, Jorvin would not be dying anytime soon.
9 -
"Dwarves detest the sea, we hate these horrors more..."
Jorvin Starbreaker swallowed as his boat was rocked with a mighty wave, his stomach threatened to spill it’s contents, if there had been anything to spill. The voyage from Sutica had not been a long one, a day at most before the accursed land lay in view. The ground was dead, and that wretched mound of things that should not be writhed, it sickened him even from this distance. One hand tightly clasped the amulet hanging from his neck, a gilded hammer in homage to Yemekar. Whispering a prayer under his breath as the ship rocked once more, his other hand was used to withdraw the staff-like object from it’s sling over his shoulder. At it’s peak, a cup-like shape, and a spike beneath it. He held it firm, and as the boat neared it’s destination, he stuffed the amulet back under his breastplate.
”Steady oan kinsmen, ah’n remember, ah’re gods ah’n ah’re ancestors are watching, dunnae disappoint t’em.”
He was under no illusion they would. Of the four boats approaching the beach that held Dwarves, each one was headed by a formidable figure. One to his right was headed by Kalgrimmor, the Dwarfen diety made flesh perched one leg up upon the rim of the boat, eyeing forward with a neutral, calmed expression.
On the boat nearest to his on the left stood his brother, Azdal. Long had he waited for this day, since the beast ‘MOTHER’ had taken his eye and his pride. This grudge was his even more than it was Jorvin’s. Justice would be done.
And finally Kazrin, who for the first time in many-a-decade was dawned in the stout black plate of his clan. Aged as he may be, a Starbreaker father he still was, and would not be one to allow his sons into such a treacherous battle without him. Even now, his figure radiated a calming aura.
Bolts flung from ship-mounted ballisti sailed through the air as the ground crew landed, spearing the creatures and tower they protected alike. Roars emitted from the eldritch horrors as they eyed the landing force. Pouring from the boats they formed up quickly out of necessity. The Dwarven shieldwall forward, with Paladins and Druii alike on the flanks. As pike, spear, and halberd was leveled forward, they begun their advance under the rolling fire of artillery, at which point...The writhing creatures charged.
”Karaad.”
The foothills before their host burned as the Karaad’Ithring in Jorvin’s hand roared to life, roaring over beast and man alike. It’s cone of fire burned the first creature as it charged, before turning to the flank of the second. He had never used this marvel of a weapon previously, on neither human nor heretic but instead, saved it for a true fight such as the one before them. Roasted flesh was the smell of the day, the Dwarves advancing as their enemies were burned, cut, and stabbed into gored piles.
”Ardol yoth Dungrimm!” Jorvin bellowed, unlikely to be heard over the sound of flame and voidic screech. As the greatest creature yet approached, it towered over their advancing throng.
A Dragon forged from flesh, bestial in the truest definition. Jorvin did not understand the nature of their enemy, nor did he desire to. He reasoned them in his mind as servants to Khorvad, the fallen deity who lusted after their souls. That he could comprehend, and with it in mind he decided that, much like their deity, they too would fall.
As the creature roared to life, it bellowed it’s unholy fire down upon the host, only to meet Jorvin’s stream of fire head-on. With a firestorm soon taking place above the heads of their host, Jorvin felt the heat as he was licked by tendrils of flame. His cloak burned off his shoulders, but he did not cease the torrent of his fire until the beast’s own attack waned, virtue of his allies, though he could not tell whom staggered it. Shouldering his weapon, he decided the rest of their gathered host could handle the creature now, and with that in mind he would set off to find his brother.
They would meet once more upon the edge of the tear. The ground shook, threatening to toss them asunder. Luckily, none stumbled into it, and soon a rope was lowered. Kazrin looked between them his sons, and asked if they were sure. They nodded to each other, before concluding that they were.
Azdal clasped the rope, and soon went down. Jorvin followed, Warhammer clutched tightly in his free hand. Before his feet connected with anything solid, a single phrase crossed his mind.
”Victory or Khaz’A’Dentrumm...”
((Tune in next time for the Return of the Starbreakers
11 -
Jorvin Starbreaker reads the announcement from his forge within the depths of the under-realm. Soot covered hands clasp the note, pausing only to wipe sweat from his brow.
A prideful smile creeps onto his face. ”Tha’ gods smile oan ye, kinsman.” He mutters to himself...Before stuffing the note into the pocket of his apron, scooping his hammer back up, and returning to work.
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These letters be spicy yo
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2 minutes ago, Vermy said:
My simple brain wants pictures
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Be gentle, its his first time.
6 -
- Popular Post
- Popular Post
Result of the Emergency Council Meeting
(Penned on this day, 7th of the Sun’s Smile, 1735)
We, the sons of Urguan have always honored our pacts, however there comes a time when it is far more complicated then a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’.
With the defensive alliance between Urguan and Fenn remaining in place, it has been decided the Dwarves shall not intervene in the conflict between Irrinor and Haelunor unless Fenn itself is besieged, in which case the Dwarves shall come to its ally’s aid. Dwarven blood will not be shed in defense of Irrinor unless Urguan’s true ally is under threat.
Narvak oz Urguan
Charged as we are by Yemekar
42 -
Deep within the halls of Kal’Evraal, within the deepest chamber of the labyrinthine-like library, Jorvin Starbreaker writes upon the most hallowed book in Dwarfdom, under the watchful eyes of the Remembrancers and it’s guards alike. A fresh wound drips soaking the bandage around his palm crimson, yet ever still his writing remains coherent and neat.
{ THE WRONGED }
Clan Starbreaker{ THE ASSAILANT }
The Creatures of the Voidal Invasion{ THE CRIME }
The Invasion of the Yemekar-Forged realm of Arcas
The Defilement of the Yemekar-Forged realm of Arcas
The Corruption and/or murder of an unknown number of Yemekar’s creations
The grievous injury of Azdal Starbreaker at the hands of the being known as ‘MOTHER’
The injury of Lulubelle Starbreaker at the hands of the being known as ‘GRIEF’
The attempted slaying of Jorvin Starbreaker at the hands of the being known as ‘MOTHER’{ THE SETTLEMENT }
The utter capitulation of all voidal beings currently assaulting the realms of Arcas
The complete removal of all voidal corruption from the realm of ArcasThe death of the being known as ‘MOTHER’ at the hands of a Starbreaker
The death of the being known as ‘GRIEF’ at the hands of a StarbreakerNarvak oz Gotrek
Yoth da Brathmordakin
Justice will be done
With his writing done as his hand begins to shake, Jorvin sets his quill down, and nods to the High Remembrancer, hoping for him to approve his grudge. With that he turns to leave, and prepares himself for his next ‘outing’ to the surface. @DrHope
6 -
Decisions of the Council
(Penned on this day, 12th of the Grand Harvest, 1734)
Removal of Clan Silvervein
Clan Silvervein have, for many years stood loyally by Agnarum, and continued to do so after our reformation into Urguan. However, it is the unfortunate truth that many an common clan burn bright for a time, yet fade away as the years come to pass. Citing their inactivity, it is with a heavy heart I announce Clan Silvervein’s removal from the Council of Rikkin until such a time where they prove active once more, should such a time come.
Establishment of Voting Protocols
Urguani Politics are often a messy affair, as there are few races more passionate and stubborn than our own. Penned by myself with input from the King, a series of procedures have been put in place to clarify not only the powers of the king, chancellor, and council. But also to ensure proper conduct is done during the assembling of the Rikkin. With this document shared among the ruling council, it is hoped we will finally have civility and order during Council Meetings.
Appointment of the Grand Marshal again...
With the Officer Corps particularly dry as of late, the Council has seen fit to appoint the recently returned Drakaem of Clan Doomforged to the position of Grand Marshal.
Denunciation of False Prophets
After rumors of heresy, and the beginning of a religious schism in the clergy, the matter has been officially addressed by the council. Their response has been unanimous and clear. Attempts to split the Godsmith’s faithful in two will not be tolerated. Da Kirkja Dverga is now, and forever will be the only legitimate religious body of the Dwarves.
Narvak oz Urguan
Charged as we are by Yemekar
6 -
Jorvin Starbreaker lets out a lonely sigh as he reads over the following. For a brief moment he wavers, before reminding himself that love is temporary and fleeting, but the glory of Urguan is eternal.
5 -
6 minutes ago, FlamboyantTyrant said:
I’m going to give my take in the spoiler below as an example to start things off:
I don’t personally mind banditry so long as it’s interactive and not just low tier “give loot or die” rp. Jumping right to some 1-emote *stab after halting someone to initiate combat is low quality and not something we should be tolerating in regards to villainy. In my opinion, if you’re going to loot someone maiming/roughing someone up rather than killing is better.
If the victim’s legs were broken due to not wanting to give up their items and they were left to crawl back to the city, they could make RP from that. They get to seek out a doctor, potentially develop some kind of trauma from the experience, maybe look into revenge or developing in some other manner. There’s potential there for growth, but when your character is just killed with no real rp, it leaves you with no experience for the character to build off of as their memory is wiped.
It’s all about a collaborative experience, and at the end of the day we shouldn’t be so loot oriented or eager to just kill others with minimal RP. The standards for banditry should be raised, as it grants everyone the opportunity to create more RP, rather than allowing for the current low effort banditry we see today.
Aye, that opinion is pretty much my own on the matter. Ain’t a whole lotta point in banditry if half the parties involved don’t remember it happening. Don’t want someone to recognize you from banditing them? Genuinely conceal yourself, put out their eyes, somethin’.
5 -
Jorvin Starbreaker reads the declaration of war within his halls, a frown soon marks the Chancellor’s face as he shakes his head softly.
”Ah’ war declared oan falsehoods ifin ah’ ever read one, utter bullshoite.”
He huffs, rising from his chair and retrieving his nearby warhammer from it’s mount on the wall. Jorvin rolls it in his hands for a moment, before clasping it tightly.
”Yet some’ow, ah’ doubt t’e king will exercise caution w’en t’e Fennites call ah’re aid. War et’ll be t’en.”
2 -
Jorvin Starbreaker scowls as he reads the letter.
”Trialed fer tax evasion? Losin’ yer property is enough, Hekkaes dunnae ‘ave t’e authoriteh to enforce t’is.”
0 -
Sons and Daughters of Urguan
For those of you who are unaware, my name is Jorvin of Clan Starbreaker, and while I am young, I have served our nation for the majority of my adult life. I continue to do so now, for as of today, I have taken the position of Lord Chancellor of the Underrealms. While I have been called many things, a man to shirk duty has never been one of them. I will serve you all to the best of my ability until I can no longer do so.
Decisions of the Council
(Penned on this day, 8th of the Sun’s smile, 1727
Ascension of the King
While the Underrealms has always been a democratic nation, it has not proven necessary today, as for the first time in our history, a Dwarf has been unanimously nominated for as king. Early into today’s council session, Utak of Clan Ireheart was sworn in as King of the Underrealms, facing no opposition, an election was deemed unnecessary. King Utak’s reign will be formalized with a coronation at a yet undecided date. When said date is decided upon, an announcement will be made.
Appointment of the Grand Marshal
With Utak Ireheart’s ascension to Kingship, the position of Grand Marshal was left empty. After a brief discussion among the council it was decided upon that Ozneat of Clan Treebeard will serve the Kingdom as commander of her throngs. Known for having militarized the Forest Dwarves into a formidable force, it is trusted that he is more than capable of the task.
Reformation of the Grand Merchant position
After much discussion among the council, it has been decided that the Grand Merchant position is to be split in two. Housing and taxation shall now fall upon the new position of Warden, currently held by Hekkaes Goldhand. The Grand Merchant meanwhile, will be tasked with selling Dwarven goods abroad to generate a profit, and thus fill the Underrealm’s coffers once more, for this task, Mafraedon Irongrinder has been selected.
As Lord Chancellor, I aim to administer matters both diplomatic and domestic for our king, should you be a citizen wishing to bring any topic of import to the council, feel free to contact me by either bird or letter, as I have opened a mailbox outside the Starbreaker clan hall for those needing to contact me. Foreign dignataries wishing to meet with Urguan should similarly see to contact either myself of the King.
Narvak oz Urguan
Narvak oz da Khazadmar
Narvak oz Utak Kravamoruk
Charged as we are by Yemekar
3 -
Jorvin Starbreaker enters the now abandoned office of the former Lord Chancellor, fumbling to light the wall-mounted torch. His eyes scan the cluttering of the desk...and the floors...and the walls.
Greeted by mountains of paperwork, the new Chancellor stares blankly for a moment, blinks.
And promptly spends the next several moments screaming internally.
2 -
To our honored Marshall, Utak of the Elder Clan Ireheart, honor be upon you and your ancestors.
While we have not always seen eye to eye, I do, and always have considered you a true comrade in arms since my first days in the Legion, where you presided over my first training. Since then I believe I have come far, and my proudest moments in life have been fighting alongside my kin in the shieldwall. However you have no doubt noticed my recent absence, which I confess was due in part to a poorly treated injury I sustained in the recent conflict. I have been nursed back to health, but am still taxed upon by the infection. Similarly, I have come to a realization.
Shortly after I joined our Legion, I was told I would be capable of 'great things', this is praise I took to heart, and is what drove me to strive for the rank of officer. Since then our Legion has gone through several reformations, and during those reformations I had been promoted to the rank of Commander, one of your two second-in-commands. While there are few greater honors than this, I have come to realize that, much to my shame I am woefully inexperienced for such a crucial position. While I have served our nation since my arrival, this is still only thirty years of experience in comparison to that of some of our number, who possess centuries of such. While I certainly think of myself as competent, I must confess I believe I am under-qualified.
Let no man say I held a position which would be better in the hands of someone else, as such, I formally request permission to resign from my rank of Commander now that we are no longer at war. Still wishing to serve our Legion I request demotion back to the rank of Captain, at least until I am better qualified to once more act as a commander. Similarily, I also request temporarily leave from my Legionnaire duties, to better focus on my duties as Clan Father and Rikkin, and to focus once more on my health to ensure no permanent injury.
Signed, Clan Father Jorvin ‘The Young’ Starbreaker, son of Kazrin Starbreaker of the line of Kazraden, descendant of Gotrek the Starbreaker. Rikkin in the council of the Elective Constitutional Monarchy of Agnarum, and founding Councillor of the Underrealms of Urguan.
2 -
5 minutes ago, ✗ ≬ ≬ ♏αɟεoℓog ≬ ≬ ✗ said:
Nicely done
Thankie, order of some events might be a little jumbled? I wrote it all from memory. Think it came out accurate though.
0 -
Metagame any of this and you’re gonna catch this hammer, boi
Jorvin Starbreaker
[ Basic Information ]
[Name]
Common: Jorvin ‘Kazrinsson’ Starbreaker
Dwarven: Yorrvin ‘Kazrinkadan’ Kornazkarumm
[Race]
Cavern Dwarf
[Date of Birth]
5th of the Deep Cold, 1645
[Gender]
Male
[Sexuality]
Bisexual (female leaning)
[Affiliation]
Kingdom of Kaz’Ulrah (until 1692)
Kingdom of Agnarum (1692-1707)
Underrealms of Urguan (1707-Current)
Dwarven Clergy (Briefly)
[Political Affiliation]
Confederate (1692-1707)
Neo-Urguanite (1707-1717)
Neo-Confederate (1717-Current)
[Religious Affiliation]
Brathmordakin (Dwarven Religion)
[Favored Gods]
Yemekar
Dungrimm
[ Traits ]
[Health]
Stressed: This character finds the burden of work and life almost too much to handle.
Scarred: Old wounds have left this character visibly scarred.
[Genetic]
Strong: This character was lucky enough to be born with above-average strength.
[Non-Inherited]
Brawny: Through vigorous training, this character possesses a rather muscular physique.
[Lifestyle]
Scholar: This character is well-read, possibly even preferring the company of books to people.
[Positive]
Chaste: This character is neither all too experienced, nor all too concerned with sexual matters.
Diligent: This character possesses a strong sense of duty.
[Negative]
Envious: This character is prone to seething jealousy.
Greedy: This character is known for hoarding wealth.
Wrothful: This character is known for having an extremely poor temperament at times.
[Other]
Ambitious: This character desires to be in a high position of power.
Cynical: This character is known to have a cynical, somewhat unpleasant view on life.
Stubborn: Once this character is committed to a course of action, it is nearly impossible to convince them otherwise.
[Leadership]
Aggressive Leader: This character is known for having a very aggressive, and confrontational style of leadership.
Heavy Infantry Leader: This character knows the value of armor, and makes frequent use of heavily armored infantry.
[ Inventory ]
[Primary Weapons] (Max One)
Enchanted Warhammer (One Handed) Forged by the late Stromnikar Starbreaker, this weapon was granted to Jorvin after his ascension to Clan Father, and enchanted shortly after. It possesses electrical and telekinetic enchantments which, if allowed to muster a full charge, can be unleashed to devastating effect.
Starbreaker Heavy Warhammer (One/Two Handed) A larger, heavier, non-enchanted variant of the above weapon roughly the length of a Dwarven sword. Forged from Black Ferrum, it possesses a crowbeak on the back of the hammer-head.
Dwarven Spear (One/Two Handed) A simple yet dangerous weapon often used during Legion duties, it stands at six feet, and while not intended to be thrown it can be used to great effect when paired with a shield.
Steel Bearded Axe (Two Handed) Occasionally carried into battle in place of a hammer, sacrificing weight for speed. While not nearly as effective against armored targets, against unarmored, or lightly armored foes, its raw cutting power makes it more than lethal enough.
[Secondary Weapons] (Max Two)
Steel Seax (One Handed) A long, single edged bone-hilted knife often tucked at around the back of Jorvin’s belt.
Steel War-Axe (One Handed) Often used when carrying a spear into battle, due to the possibility of said spear breaking during combat. Hung around the side of Jorvin’s belt in a leather ‘holster’.
Slayersteel Dagger (One Handed) Occasionally carried instead of a steel seax, in situations where encountering less than wholesome entities is a possibility.
[Off-Hand] (Max One)
Dwarven Heater Shield A heavy, legion-issue shield, primarily designed to form an unbreakable shield wall, but still plenty effective in single combat.
Steel Round Shield Smaller than the heater shield, but capable of taking just as much punishment. Favored in single combat.
[Satchel Contents]
Rations Jerky and hardtack, enough to last a single man several days, but no longer than a week at maximum.
Canteen Metal canteen containing a day’s worth of clean water.
Flask Metal flask containing a day’s worth of alcohol, usually mead.
War Horn Encase of attack, a horn is tucked into the satchel, when blown it can be heard for roughly forty stones.
Fire-starter Encase it is needed to ward off the cold, or boil water within the canteen to make it drinkable.
Bandages Encase of injury and that medical assistance is not immediately available, the satchel contains a roll of bandages for covering wounds.
[Armor] (Max One)
Urguanite Officer’s Uniform Standard issue steel plate armor of Urguan’s Legion, complete with a bright orange cloak, encase you had any doubts to the country of origin.
Starbreaker Plate Armor Black-Plate Armor specific to Clan Starbreaker, bearing the clan sigil of three stars and an anvil upon the chestplate.
[ History ]
Early Life
Born during the golden age of Kaz’Ulrah in the early Atlasian period, Jorvin is the son of famed High Remembrancer, Kazrin Starbreaker, and the fiery tempered Maeven Blackhammer, a captain of note within the Vanguard of Kaz’Ulrah. The eldest of three children, (the other two being Ketlin, and Azdal) he was relied upon to watch over his siblings from an early age, and as such, developed to be quite protective of them, even if he was often resentful for the attention received by his younger siblings from their parents.
As is often the case, opposites attract, but seldom last for long. This fact would prove especially true in the case of Jorvin’s parents, who separated shortly after the boy’s sixteenth birthday. Ketlin remained with their father, who as one often busy with his work, sent her away to further her education under Draugrite scholars, Azdal too remained with Kazrin, but left to forge his own destiny at the age of eighteen. Jorvin however would remain with their mother as deemed by the court, shedding the name Starbreaker along with his mother.
Years passed, and with the passage of time, Jorvin aged. He would find himself the voice of caution to his mother’s temper, and in return she would educate him to the best of her ability. Try as she might, the boy would gravitate towards those interests associated with his paternal clan, particularly scholarly work much to her distress. Despite this, his mother’s influence was apparent, and even as a boy he would adopt a dutiful nature, though he believed himself too weak to serve on the battlefield, and took to the mines instead, in his own words ‘to serve my king’.
Jorvin’s professions such in nature, until the traumatic ‘Third Atlas Coalition War’ shook the continent. Three months before Jorvin’s fortieth birthday and coming of age, his mother marched to the defense of Norland with the rest of the Coalition’s forces, and in the aftermath of the sweeping Imperial victory there, she was never seen again, assumed dead.
Jorvin came of age alone and angry, until returning to the only other family he knew.
In a short while, after two and a half decades, he would return to his father, among the last of the Starbreakers, and would retake the family name, joining his clan once more. No longer alone, but still most certainly angry, the Starbreaker enlisted in the Vanguard the day after news of San’Kala’s fall reached the Crownhold. Knowing they would be next, Ulrahite leadership buckled down, and prepared for the long and bloody siege, which would leave Kal’Tarak a burning ruin.
Jorvin would be severely wounded during the fighting, for no warrior was he, and only by taking shelter in the abandoned prison of Kal’Tarak would he survive the final stand made by the Coalition within King Thoak’s throne room. Being among the few ‘soldiers’ to survive the battle, he would charge himself with the task of aiding the refugees of the city in their escape. Marching across Imperial territory for thirty days (all the while beset by Imperials and bandits) the survivors would eventually make it to Kal’Azgaryum, once mortal enemies of Kaz’Ulrah, now the only remaining free-hold of the Dwarves in Atlas, save the Urguanite remnant of Az’Adar.
Hunting the Cult, and ascension to Clan Father
Among all refugees from Kaz’Ulrah, it was perhaps the Starbreakers who had the easiest time adjusting to life in Agnarum, as not only was Kazrin Starbreaker a figure respected for his neutrality, it was also that several of their number had already taken residence there. Jorvin, ashamed over his failure during the battle soon swore an oath to protect his fellow refugees to the best of his ability, and enlisted in Dungrimm’s Legion to aid in the transition.
The young Starbreaker showed promise, and through rigorous training both with, and without the Legion, he would slowly but surely mold himself into a soldier. The Grand Marshall at the time Dain Metalfist saw potential in Jorvin, and soon deemed him as his personal guard, a respected position among his fellow Legionaires.
This remained the status quo for some time, until somehow, the reputation of the Starbreakers waned. The actions of Torkan Starbreaker, his uncle and a suspected cultist, soon began to cast the clan in a poor light, meanwhile his father Kazrin, once highly respected, was soon a suspect for treason when it came to light that the Frostbeards, enemies of Agnarum, possessed a mole within the Council of Rikkin. This, further compounded with his refusal to sign the Frostbeard Extermination Act, caused the elderly Starbreaker to retire in favor of his son, who in the span of a single night found himself propelled from beardling, to Lord of Gotrek’s line.
For a time, Jorvin floundered, unsure of himself and certainly unprepared to lead an Elder Clan. This was made all the worse by the corrupting influence of Torkan, whom Jorvin discovered to be a cultist of Khorvad, the Dwarven God of Darkness and Ambition. Unable to prove his uncle’s guilt to anyone but himself, the young Starbreaker was wrought with self-doubt and paranoia which threatened to break his spirit. This was prevented however, by the sudden friendship that formed between the young Legionaire and his commanding officers, the father-and-son duo, Dain and Gimli Metalfist.
In these dark times, the Metalfists would prove to be steadfast friends and allies, especially once Jorvin’s father, Kazrin had vanished. Jorvin’s resolve grew, just in time for ‘The War Against September’. Fighting in the vanguard of Descendant lines in the Dwarven Shieldwall, the Starbreaker would personally fell a Minotaur as it broke through Dwarven lines, restoring his confidence and proving the young Starbreaker to be a formidable warrior.
In the face of renewed investigation by Jorvin, Torkan vanished without a trace, taking his eldest children with him, and leaving only the young Karvek and Lulubelle in Jorvin’s care.
Unbeknownst to Jorvin, Torkan would flee to Mynebor, where he would convince Balrog Ironkiln, a Starbreaker bastard and Lord of Mynebor, to take to Khorvadic worship. Within five years, all of Mynebor would be under Khorvad’s dominion, a fact discovered by Clan Ireheart who, during a raid against them, unearthed a hellish temple buried deep in Mynebor’s mines. With this information discovered, the Azgarymos Dwarves rallied for war, but were delayed by most troubling of news….
The Battle of the Bridge, and Serrimor
The coming of the Vaeyl and their minions became known to the Dwarves when cold winds from the south swept over the mountain range separating Agnarum from the wastelands. The winter would be harsh, lasting well into the spring, and when it finally did end, it would become apparent to the Dwarves something unholy was at stake. Volunteering to discover what foulness had beset the Wastelands, Jorvin, along with Gimli Metalfist, and a party of fifty Dwarven rangers, left Agnarum during the height of summer. The Dwarves would make for the ice wall, three hundred miles south of Agnarum.
To their unease, they would find that many cities south of Agnarum laid abandoned, with only Fenn and Haense still supporting a determined population that refused to move. Any further south, only the remnants of what once was would remain, abandoned cities and villages were the norm along the coast, but further in-land, they would be met with graver horrors. In one instance, the house of a farmer, with signs that told the gruesome tale of how one man had resorted to cannibalism to survive the winter, devouring his children. Another incident occurred a hundred miles south of that, where an abandoned fortress belonging to the Strigae (vampires) was discovered frozen over, its occupants thankfully vacant, but still populated by the bones of their victims. Still, the Dwarves pressed on, and eventually determined the source of the encroaching winter to be a fortress built along the wall. Jorvin, Gimli, and their entourage would race home against the winter, discovering to their horror the wastes had begun to swallow the Haunted Forest on Agnarum’s eastern border.
The King was warned, and preparations were made to seal the mountains, but not before the Dwarves took to the countryside, warning as many as they could of the impending threat. However, the plans would change.
Originally intending to wait the winter out in the mountain hold, the Dwarves were called to battle by their ally of Aegrothrond, who made battle against the Vaeyl in cloud temple. Quickly the Dwarves rushed to war, and the following battles would prove brutal. The Vaeyl knights proved to be a formidable foe against the whole of the descendants, and the Dwarven host would soon be separated, Jorvin would remain among the King’s hosts, and would help command Agnarum’s forces during the steady retreat towards the gate which had opened in the Ice Wall. There, assembled once more, the Dwarven host would hold the front line against the Vaeyl atop an icy bridge, while the fleeing descendants battered down the gate, and broke through to the other side.
The Descendants would find themselves in Serrimor, a snowy wastelands populated by the ruins of the Vaeyl, who still harried them even now, in the Dwarven camp however, there would be celebration for having survived the fall of Atlas. In that camp, in the frenzy of the moment, Jorvin had fallen for a clanless woman by the name of Elia, and though they would be separated after Serrimor, unbeknownst to Jorvin, their fling would result in the birth of two children, Lyni and Sif.
Eventually, the descendants managed to repair the ships nestled in the port of Serrimor, and from there, they would flee to a new land…
Enemies returned, and the Trial of Jorvin Starbreaker
The Dwarves would enter Arcas and immediately set to work erecting their home. The city of Kal’Varoth was atop the ruins of an ancient hold deep in the Underways, with new life breathed into it by King Fimlin the Architect, and others. Here, the Starbreakers would settle into a hall built by Stromnikar Starbreaker, while Jorvin set to work, beginning the revival of the Elder Clan. While the pressure was immense, it was not without fruit, and soon the Starbreakers would prosper for the first time in nearly two centuries. Jorvin sat upon the council which declared the Restoration of Urguan as a nation. Shortly thereafter however, danger struck.
Torkan had returned along with Balrog Ironkiln, and in a narrowly-avoided attack, had tried to take the King’s life. Jorvin arrived on scene as the two were carted off for interrogation, and there Torkan would finally admit his allegiance to Khorvad. With the one who had caused him so much grief finally brought to justice, Jorvin’s response was swift, severing Torkan’s head from his body. Ensuring Torkan would never return, his body was buried in three pieces, with the skull kept by Jorvin as a trophy, while the heart was sealed away within an aurum chest, and the body was burned. The Dwarves soon declared war upon Mynebor, now ruled by Balrog’s son, and Jorvin swore an oath to once and for all wipe out the treacherous line of bastard Starbreakers.
In the holy war that followed, Jorvin oversaw the eradication of the Ironkiln line, and the destruction of the Myneborite capital of Kal’Khorvad. Unbeknownst to Jorvin, the remaining Ironkilns who weren’t slain in the battle fled, and took the name Steelforged, hiding in Urguan until eventually discovered, and forced to flee once more.
In the aftermath of the war, Jorvin would develop a friendship with Atandt and Zahrer Irongrinder, Az’Adarite Dwarves who’d become highly influential in Urguanite politics, this coupled with the brief retirement of Gimli Metalfist (Now Gimli Grandaxe) caused Jorvin to drift further and further into the more traditionalist Urguanite circles.
In the aftermath of Mynebor, tensions would rise in the Under-Realm as two of it’s founders, Jorvin Starbreaker, and Borin Grandaxe would become rivals. Borin, who detested Jorvin, and believed him to be a far poorer leader than his father, a close friend of the Grandaxe, began a relentless campaign of insults which nearly culminated into a conflict between the Starbreaker and Grandaxe clans, Borin’s own son, Thondil the Fool vandalized Jorvin’s merchant shop, and damaged his beard with tree-sap. This would be the straw that broke the camel’s back, and finally Jorvin would lodge a grudge against Borin which, to settle required either Borin or his son to meet him in the form of a duel. Thondil the Fool would insist he fight instead of his father, and so the boy only recently of age, met Jorvin in battle.
The duel was quick, and would lead to Thondil’s death as the Grandaxe failed to block a blow from the crowbeak of Jorvin’s warhammer, rending open his throat in the process. In what was equal parts a final insult, but also a mercy kill, Jorvin brought his hammer down on the boy’s head as he bled out, killing him instantly, but also displaying a grotesque scene to the Grandaxes who came to watch the duel. Due to this, Jorvin would be dubbed a ‘Child-Killer’ by the Grandaxes, and Fili Grandaxe, at the time leader of the Dwarven Faith, would excommunicate Jorvin, and duel him to a standstill in the very same arena the next night.
The affair was soon settled in court, with the Irongrinders swaying those who’d not already chosen a side, and the Grandaxes who were formally Metalfists threatening open rebellion if Jorvin was tried with treason, along with clan Ireheart, and several of the Frostbeards. Fili’s excommunication was lifted, and the Grandaxe was soon voted out by his own clergy.
Celebration was had, and shortly after these events Fimlin Grandaxe stepped down as King, however, Jorvin’s loyalties would soon become divided as both Gimli Grandaxe, and Atandt Irongrinder would run for the Kingship…
The Election and Three Month War
WIP
5 -
1
Our Reply, Onyx Hearts
in The Onyx Sanctum
Posted
To the perfidious Primarch
I approached you and your kin that short time ago in peace. Not with an army at my side, nor blade behind my back. If you interpreted my stating of facts as a threat, you have made a grievous error. Your kin have suffered, this fact is true and I do not deny it. But you are not the only ones who have suffered most grievously. You might find home with your fellow sons of Malin, or perhaps the vile greenskin whose faith you share. The sons of Urguan know no such friends. Against Horen’s sons, we have battled in the name of our gods. Against Malin’s sons we have faced betrayal and have grown bitter, against Krug’s swine we stand, in opposition to the chaos they wrought.
We have made demands, this is true. But these are only the demands to live freely in the lands our ancestors died for. Where are the trees of Malin in the Underway? Where do the spirits roam in the deep? We have battled, and scraped our way from the jaws of oblivion merely to own that which the Elder Gods of the Brathmordakin gave us. Scores of Dwarven dead lay buried in these mountains from our strife. We may not be of Arcas, but they are our kin nonetheless.
You would call us tyrants for demanding you pay a price in gold, while we have paid, and still pay a price in blood for these underways, to ward them against the dark, and keep a home for our kin. We dictated should you be unwilling to pay us, you vacate our mountain. An order made in good faith, by the owner’s whose land you have settled in.
Instead, you insult us, you wound our mountains, and let loose creatures I do not yet know into depths, rather than leave in peace.
Know ye this, these are our mountains, given onto us by our gods. I can say with confidence you have made an enemy of myself and my kin this day.
I, Jorvin, son of Kazrin, Lord of Gotrek’s Folk and Clan Father of Elder Clan Starbreaker, Lord Chancellor of Urguan and a Commander of her Legions, Slayer of the Alar Queen and Bane of the Neverborn Photaina. Declare war upon your kin on behalf of my clan, my people, and my gods. A grudge to be inherited by my successors until compensation is met, or the day of reckoning comes.
Thrice damn you, thrice damn your kin. Narvak oz Urguan, Narvak oz Gotrek.