The story of Revenark Stonehold's early beginnings

[Stonebar]

These are 7 stories I wrote and posted back in late April 2008, 8 1/2 years ago on the Stonebar forums

Chapter 1

A loyal daughter

Helga Fireaxe was married to a friend of her fathers in far off Calimshan, having to move far from her people’s home in the Great rift. The Gold Dwarf Helga Fireaxe did not wish to dishonor her father, who had made a rash deal with a trading partner in Calimshan. Helga who’s strong will and desire to out do any male at the forge, and those nightly dreams of a man she has never met, had left her unmarried still at 108 (around 32 human) something her father wished to fix. Honoring her father and hoping that this man might just be the one she’s been dreaming of, or at the very least a good man to start a family with and make her Clan stronger as that should be the dream of any honorable Dwarf.

She was wrong on all three points, Creigik Fireaxe was an old overly drunk Dwarf who had quite the temper, and no patience for a wife who could out do him in anything. She had known at once this was not the man from her dreams, the temper she found out about later after her parents left to return home, but she stayed quiet at first hoping she could fix him. After 3 years and a broken arm she started writing to her Family for help, but all that they would speak of is what dishonor would befall them if there was a divorce, and that Dwarves stuck these things out and made them work. Either her family believed the honorable merchant persona of her husband, thought she was just home sick, or was happy to wash their hands clean of an uppity daughter she could not tell. All these thoughts haunted her that next painfully lonely decade, far from home, and scared for the first time in her life.

One night after he all most killed her, she thought how death would be freeing for her and her Clans honor, and went to the docks hoping that some thief would finish the deed her husband had started, or she would jump in the choppy waters. Seeing no thief for once, she stood at the docks edge for what seemed like hours. Wondering if that man she could no longer dream of would find her in heaven. Finally at peace with her choice, and the fact that her Clans honor would not have blemish she jumped. Helga’s Dwarven density made her at once sink like a rock below the cold gray waters.

She awoke gagging, gasping for air aboard a ship, “Thought we be lost yeah lass” said a stout Dwarven shipwright who had came early to finish his wood work in the cooler early morning air, and reacted quickly after hearing a splash. She told him everything, sobbing after being so raw and emotional from her near death experience. His eyes went large and his face red he vowed he'd kill her husband and said he was more goblin then Dwarf! But she calmed him and made the old Dwarf see what that would do to her clan. Seeing that there can be no honor found in her husband, thus no honor lost in this lie, he said he would gladly say she drowned, but only if she would just take that ship he pointed to. He told her it was looking for some old lost island, and would most likely sink in some distant deep sea storm, so he would not really be lying about her drowning he said laughing.
“ I ah be an old Dwarf with no Clan left to disappoint, so please lassie let this old man do at least one last noble thing for some lovely damsel in distress like you're self.”

[Stonebar]

Chapter 2

Elben Aator

Keldri Stonehold was the eldest son of the Stone mason Clan of Stonehold, named after an old fort that guarded Dwarven passes in the underdark that had long sense been used anymore, as the stones around now yielded too little ore. He was still young, despite his fathers great age, being only 77(around 25 if human). He was now newly responsible for running most of the away side of the Clan’s business, that his father had held on to for so long. He was quickly gaining a strong reputation for being honorable, fair, a diligent worker, and one with great skills in organization that far out stretched his young years.

He had just made the long trip from the mighty Dwarven halls of Stonebar to the small town of Fae Saile near the coast to set up the shipments of ore to its merchant smiths. It was not the old stone walled human city of Mountain deep, but the market was in demand here. He heard of a new black smith, weapon smith, and armorer only to be surprised in hearing that they were all the same person. He entered the black smith stall that was owned by a Dwarf of the Redbeard Clan to see his new metal smith, he was surprised when he saw a Gold Dwarf, as they were very rarely seen in theses lands, and a lass so young at that. While Dwarfs don’t stress gender rolls there’s still what’s common, and a lass of such great mastery skill was some what uncommon in the Aator, as she would have normally no doubt married and would be taking care of a growing Clan.

Helga had reached the island from old sea charts the ship captain had found that would not be found again for nearly two century's. Despite all odds the ship did indeed find land. She was sick from such a long arduous voyage were she thought she would surely die many times, but now at least she had hope of freedom and making her own way, death seemed a risk she was unwilling to pay now. She stayed behind with a few of the crewmen that were to make way for the ships return, that would be loaded with goods from the mainland for trade. The sea seemed angry, and those tall jutting cliffs and rocky shoals surrounding most of the Island of Elban Aator, made a grave of many a ships that the sea spit amongst its bone white walls. That ship never made the return trip, and it was lost to the sea along with the knowledge of the Islands location once again.

Helga would later make a name for her self in the mostly human fishing town of Fae Saile crafting masterfully strong armor and swords, she had gone from blacksmiths helper to a Master Smith in only the year she had been in the land. She never at the time thought all those lonely decades spent learning the refined skills honed so long in the forgeries of the Great rift would be so needed on an Island so cut off from new crafting techniques.

Keldri had never felt his heart jump so hard before, a pain was worse then an Orc’s black shafted arrow or jagged spear. Orc that were now growing more and more common around the mountains of Stonebar.
Helga pushed her braded hair out of her face as she walked toward Keldri who was speechless. “Be you da one who sent that last ore?” she said.
“Indeed” said Keldri with pride, “Do you like….” His face reeled from a blow from Helga’s fist, leaving him with an exasperated look on his now reddened face.
“That ore was weak, I lost many a good sword to that poor-mans excuse for ingots yah be bringing last time!" said an angry Helga.
Keldri regained his tongue as the fire in his belly burned “Me Clan be mining ore sense before you were a pain in your mothers belly, don’t dare dishonor me family’s name little girl”!
The heated argument lasted hours, turning to Honor, then to the best forging techniques, to Shield Dwarf ways vs. Gold Dwarf ways, before finally back to those Ingots.

After Keldri left to return to Stonebar he kept finding him self muttering about the gull of that lass, and the irritating fact he could not get her out of his mind. Helga though smiled after Keldri left, it had been so long since she had fought so much and so passionately, and it felt good not having avoiding upsetting her husband. She would bow to no man, not any more, this she had vowed. Helga found her self looking forward to each of Keldri's visits, and always a heated argument would arise. The fighting turned into respect as they found out just how much they really agreed. She respected Keldi in that he never seemed to mind smiling and bowing to her in defeat when she would make a point so solid that he could wiggle out of it no longer. Respect formed into admiration, and that admiration was forged into love. Yet nether of them would make the first move. Keldri was a natural leader at heart, but shy around the lasses and thought Helga as an older woman of so many great skills she would not wish someone younger. Helga in turn feared a that any new marriage would turn out like her last one, and part of her wrongly felt like a little bit of it was her fault when her husband drank so much and became so angered... what if it was Keldri this time... Nether of them wished to risk losing the relationship they had found in each other.

[Stonebar]

Chapter 3

Respect, Love, and loss

One month Keldri did not return, but in his place, and a week late was Durbenar and Olef Stonehold a younger brother and cousin in his stead. She heard that Keldri was ambushed and almost killed by Mountain Orcs and that these beast had demon strength and fought like madmen! It was lucky he fell off a cliff after a powerful blow shattered his shield. It was luckily it was only a hunting party, so the Orc did not have the numbers or the inclination to look for him. The Orc live in great camp’s, in numbers never before seen or imagined, food was always scarce and ranked as high as weapons, a single Dwarf mattered little.

Keldri had always down played the rising number of Mountain Orcs, and the dark demonic magic that seemed to course throw their warriors blood. Each one that was chosen and survived the ritual seemed to fight as strong as a war party of normal Orcs. He never told her of the battles that were so heavy in cost to Dwarven lives, or the dishonor that they could not even aid their allies the enclaves of the Deep Gnomes bellow, as every Dwarf was needed to defend their Clan halls. Or even that Drow war bands that appeared not long ago were growing in sized and one by one the Deep Gnome enclaves were falling to them, and the shear impedance Stonebar felt in not being able to stand by their sides. This she had all heard on her way back to Stonebar, she just had to see if Keldri lived, and could not wait a month to find out.

She rushed in and was Impressed with the halls of Stonebar, not as grand as the seemingly immortal Great rift cities, but for Shield Dwarves it was grand. While a human might miss the signs of master stonemasons lovingly flawless works any Dwarf could see it was built with a simple yet an awing design. With such craftsmanship and sturdiness that it would bring a Dwarf to tears at it beauty, and majesty, detail and strength, surely it could never fall.

Keldri and Helga fell completely in love that month, she would push him, and call him names all to speed his recovery in walking again, and he loved her for it. As their relation ship was not about the Clan, or about good breeding, or just about a nice smile on a beautiful lass, but it was birthed of mutual and deep respect, the foundation of stone a marriage should be built upon. He asked her to marry him after that month, just as she was readying to return to Fae Saile. He could not stand the idea of being away from her, and that’s when she told him, what she had always feared to say,….that she was by Dwarven law married already. This shattered his heart, he yelled at her, asking how could she lead him on like that, to insult him so, but his pain was inconsolable, and he left her to return to Fae Saile with out another word.

His father Walark Stonehold head of the Clan, and member of the honor guard, the Clanwardens of Stonehold, would never have allow the shame and dishonor of a Gold Dwarf entering his family, and the fact she showed such dishonor in leaving her husband only sealed the deal. This relation ship must end, Keldri was swayed to agree for his father was the soul of the Clan Stonehold, and his word was law.

Years later in a battle with the Drow in a Clan a held mining tunnel, Walark Stonehold died, mortally wounded by thirteen Drow poisoned bolts, but he would go down in legend for still standing, never falling the whole battle, despite his many many wounds. Even after the poison had all but stopped his heart, he still took more then his share of Drow with him to the after life, indeed he fell dead only after the last Drow lay killed, and a round of ale had been drunk to his brothers in arms it's said.

Keldri was now leader of the Clan, the weight on his shoulders having to live up to his father’s legacy was heavy. He went to Fae Saile one last time to inform the merchants that he was now in charge, and let the Dwarfs in the town know to morn and celebrate his fathers loss. Helga was not there that day, and he had felt relieved but saddened at the same time about this. Getting ready to leave a few days latter, the door flew open in his room and Helga ran in embracing him in a great hug. Saying how sorry she was about the loss of his father, and how much she missed her own family. He melted in her tears, and returned the embraced, bowing low he looked in to her deep brown eyes and kissed her, it was the first time she had felt such true and uncompromising love that filled his kiss. They vowed, holding each other deeply to afraid to let go, that they would never again be apart.

As Keldri was now head of a Clan, he could make rulings on marriages. As her husband was a man of so little honor, it was reasoned that the Dwarven side of him had must have died long ago, and with his death Helga's old marriage was ended. There was much bickering about the actions of their new Clan elder, but they were soon ended as Helga’s skill and honor shown through. They were married in the halls of Stonebar by King Stonefist XI him self, and even feasted at his table that night as a show of Dwarven unity, Gold and Shield.

[Stonebar]

Chapter 4

The unthinkable, an end of an age.

The number of Mountain Orcs grew each year and it was all Stonebar could do to hold on, then the day of despair came. The Great battle for Stonebar, the Halls of the martyred, the Kingdoms grave. For three months now the Orc had pounded the walls and doors of Stonebar, trying to brake its defenses, twice they had made a breach, and twice they were driven back with great losses. The funeral pyres burned night and day, sending on their way that day’s Dwarven heroes to the next life. To returning the honored dead to the Forger’s hearth was the custom of Stonebar.

The Elder’s were at a loss as to how such a large army was not only formed, but supplied with weapons, and food for such a long siege. In the past Stonebar would hold out until the horde was weakened by food loss and leave, or turn to infighting as one tribe was losing more then the others and wished a larger share of loot, and this would tear them apart from within. Then Stonebar would swarm out and destroy the Orc army scattered in chaotic disarray for good. It was known that some force lead them, the dark Demonic magic empowering them their Shaman’s use and worshiped came from some were. Though it was still believed that someone or something else non-Orc had to make so many weapons so fast, and food gathering and long-term siege planning were not an Orc trait, even with their high Shamans in the camp. Sadly it was found out to late to be the Drow using the masses of newly enslaved craftsmen from the conquered Deep Gnomes enclaves.

The call echoed through the halls of Stonebar that Orc’s had broken through!

Some one had disabled the gates and they now swung opened, and the Orcs swarmed over the secondary defenses all the way to Stonebar proper. It would not be long till they shattered the last barrier and pored in. Every able bodied Dwarf was called to hold the line, this was their home ground! The very Stone their ancestors worked on, died on, lived on, and it could not, no will not fall! This was a fact that every Dwarf on that battle line new within their hearts. The woman that did not fight, the children, and the elderly, as well as some of the most trusted that were expected to lead the people in this time of chaos, to keep them alive, and to bring them home when Stonebar was once more safe.

“Keldri!” The king demanded, “I have not the time to listen to this, you will go with the refugees and you will keep them safe until you return to Stonebar". "I have many warriors who are willing to die for their people, what I really need are some leaders who are willing to live for them!”
Defeated and honoring the Kings words, Keldri would lead many people to the old fortress of Stonehold, which lay far from the war. The march was agonizing, as all wondered the fate of the ones they loved and left behind. None of them thought Stonebar could ever fall. Keldri would reach time and time again to the warmth of the ancient horn carved of enchanted stone that King Stonefist XI had thrust in to his hand. He had placed an arm around him and smiled, “This artifact forged in the time of Stonefist the first, etched deep with elder runes from the great founding Clans that came from Delzoun to Elban Aator, and made from the living foundation stone of Stonebar its self Keldri. It will not be allowed to end up in the enemies hands, this you will vow on your blood.” It was the first time he could see how lost the battle was in the Kings eyes. He made that vow without question, honored, yet humbled, he was fearful for the fate of all who had put so much trust in him, he could not fail them.

It would be over a month till they got word, that Stonebar’s Clanwardens had held off and defeated the Orc’s in that desperate and epic battle of mighty heroes, but there was little time to rejoice. Drow had tunneled up from the below into the lower halls, and had moved in quickly to pick off the exhausted and wounded Dwarven survivors. The Orc’s battle had been timed just right used as fodder to distract and weaken the Dwarves until the Drow got in to position to deal the fatal blow. Stepping from their deep shadows of magic to dispatch the Dwarves who sought to regroup and heal their wounded, they were to be caught completely unguarded, with so much effort was spent holding the front line incase of a new surge of Orc. Many would die never knowing their killer’s presence, so unaware some even died with a hard won smile from a glorious battle of legend still on their face.

The line of Stonefist kings was thought ended that day. Stonebar the jewel, the rock of Elben Aator, the Dwarven people, the foundation they could stand on, count on, build on, and honor their hero’s in was gone. With this the Clans were now shattered with out a center. Infighting over precious resources, and a mind set of defending ones own family grew in this time. With out a guiding force, a soul of unity, like the Stonefist Kings who were called the peoples father and often addressed as Grandfather, the Dwarven numbers would hit an all time low. Communication amongst the Clans dropped to all most nothing. Fighting over whose Clan fought hardest for Stonebar, or who was the betrayer at the gates, or fights over to few resources, or fear of one Clan gaining to much power, all this conspired to keep unity out of grasp for the 200 years.

With the Orc looming in numbers unseen before it was an age for survival, not of glory.

[Stonebar]

Chapter 5

A new start, a birth, and a beardling’s first brush with death.

In the Fortress of Stonehold they were from the surface and cut off from trade routs and this left them in a continual search for food. Some mushrooms and liken grew in near the springs that fortress was built around, but it could offer little for a group this size, but in time it could be made into quite the garden. Passages were found to the surface to hunt and forage, and to bring back much needed goods. Still the people just barely made it by, yet despite this doing as much as they could to work on the walls and buildings that had fallen in to such disrepair in these last few century’s of abandonment.

A baby’s cry was heard in Stonehold one morning. The glow-moss now beginning to brighten, drawing nutrition from the distant trees whose roots were just now responding to the light of that new morning’s sun. Revenark was the first baby to be born in Stonehold in century’s, and was a welcomed distraction form the memories of Stonebar‘s fall just five years earlier. He was catered to by the elder lasses who had lost their kids, and the younger lasses who hoped to have one. He was loved and greatly cared for as every one saw this first born baby of their leader as the future of their people, a sign of rebirth and hope. Revenark was told story after story about Stonebar, the world, and the history of the Dwarven people and its heroes. They thought he would grow to be an Ollam (teacher) or Skalds (singer, bard), and keep the history of the Dwarven people alive, as their history and memories were all they had left.

Many years past and conditions got better, the buildings were repaired, and work fixing the walls was under way. Revenark had snuck out of one of those holes in the wall that day that only a young beardling or Halfling could hope to fit through. He was 13 now ( roughly around 7 in human equivelent), and looking to have some fun. If his father would not let him play around the walls, he would just play past them. He thought himself smart as he did not really disobey his father as he was not playing - near - the walls any more. Smiling the overly young and arrogant beardling dashed to and fro stabbing his dagger at imaginary Orc brutes. As the greatest warrior/hero ever born, himself of course and with only a dagger at that, he'd defeated an army of 100...no 200.…no 1,000 Orc, and freeing the halls of Stonebar from their evil filth. Revenark had never seen a real Orc, but descriptions of Drow, Ogre, and Orc hordes were fresh in his mind from the hundreds of stories that he had been told. He was sure he could with ease kill any of them that might have dared come near his home and Clan. They were all stupid and laughable in those stories, and he of course was smart and brave he thought with a big grin, before running off once more down some new twisting tunnel. While rolling over a large boulder and stabbing the imaginary Ogre who had hid behind it from him he yelled. “Thought yah could be ambushing me did yah beast, well I saw yah easy, now time to pay….no running won’t save you!” he said with as much flare as he could muster.

“Who are you talking to Dwarf?” came a voice as sharp as a razor, but some how smooth and cold as ice at the same time. Revenark spun around Dagger in hand and came face to face with a Drow who’s slender ebon blade now lifted to tap under the Dwarves chin. He had just dropped silently behind him from a concealed ledge that he’d been perching on. Revenark wished to shout a battle cry that would eco throw the tunnels, then run the Drow throw bringing its head back as a trophy, and become a hero just like his father. This is what he imaged would happen, but in his reality, no sound would come out of his mouth. The dagger shook in his hand his body standing frozen in place refusing to move. But it was not by some spell that held his feet, his own body had betrayed him, as wide eyed fear crept in deep, wrapping around it now held him tight.

Revenark found him self knocked on the ground hard by the swift smack of a buckler that sent him and the dagger flying. The Drow looked on the young Dwarf with all the respect one would have for a beetle found in your grain. “Where are your people Dwarf?” said the Drow’s icy voice as he bent over looking coldly into the beardlings wide eyes.
Revenark managed to move his mouth “Help!” he yelled in a voice far to quiet to be heard by his kin in the holding.
The Drow kicked him hard in the ribs quickly silencing his voice then spit in his face and drawing his blade along Revenark‘s neck letting only a small trickle of blood drop. “Tell me now you Waela Rothe Iblith” (foolish and unwary cattle's dung).“You might just win the chance to see a real city, as a slave, cross me and your death will be agonizingly slow and I will take great joy in every second of it.” sneered the Drow Scout who was far from his camp, and had no intention of dragging a slave that far through the underdark for what would likely be little coin.

Revenark fearful and thinking his father would kill this Drow easily for even looking at his son, thought of taking him to the fortress so his father would have that chance. This crept into his mind, but the still small voice in side him screamed no! “You will have to kill me first! I will die with great honor, heaven awaits me even now!” Said the now resolute Dwarf.
The Drow’s blade slid across Revenarks neck once more dropping speaks of blood upon the grey stone. In all most a trance like voice the Drow said looking at the blood. “Oh brave now are we little one, it was hard to tell with all that shaking” looking deep into Revenarks eyes the Drow spit out the next words like venom “You filthy little beardless Dwarf, do you know anything of real honor Dwarfling?" "I bet not... but not to fear for we will soon find out, as you will now scream the location of your home and even denounce your God while you soil your self and beg me to finish your sorry little life.”

“Lets see what to remove first?” a sickly inhuman smile parted his lips as the Drow thought. That sickly smile now imprinted on his mind would always haunt the dark reaches of his dreams. The Drow counted Revenarks fingers slowly in his native tongue, like it was some children’s game, but stopped counting all of a sudden. After few seconds Revenark had dared to open his eyes just a little, and he saw the Drow eyes wide, and his sword dropped from his hand! As it turned around Revenark could see a Dagger, his dagger, wedged deeply in it's spine. The Drow tried to reach for it in vain, then with out a word, fell dead.

All was then quiet as time seemed to stand still. Revenark jumped onto his shaky feet, looking around until he saw an outline of a small form concealed along the rocks. “Did you, save me? “Revenark asked voice a little less shaky. "Ye….ye…yes" the small form said skittishly in broken under common. “Thank you” was all Revenark could come up with adding “You saved my life.”
The small shadow seemed to smile before hesitantly stepping away from the concealing rocks becoming fully visible. Revenark at once knew it to be a Deep Gnome form stories he was told, and what he knew of them was not evil. Then he saw the slave bands on his arms and branding upon his face.
“Did you escape friend?” asked Revenark in a gentle way. “Free” said the Gnomes in a quiet voice. “Of course you are!” Yelled Revenark. “And you’re coming home with me, and we will get you the biggest venison to eat that the surface can grow.”
The Gnome only smiled and followed him home. “So, what’s your name friend?” The Gnome shook his head, “No name how horrible, my name stretches far back, down from.. from…” Revenark stopped thinking it might upset his new nameless Gnome friend to continue. "Then, what do they call you?" The Gnome mouthed out “Golhyrra” (Trapping/Bait, in Drow). “Gol..hyr..ra what dose that mean?“ Revenark asked stumbling over the strange words. The Gnome only Shrugged, as he had never learned their tongue. “Well ok then Gol..Golhyrra were going home“.

The Clan was happy to see Revenark safe and spent more time learning about his new friend then scolding him, a fact that he knew would change later when his mother found out. Some of the elders could speak Gnomish and questioned him. They found out the Drow use to set him free, then track him down with spells after some Nyr’an Gnome rebels saved him. Then the Drow could find the rebels concealed bolt holes they were using to ambush Drow slavers. The magic brand was carved from his face once Golhyrra saw what was happening, he then fled for his life, and thought this Drow was about to catch him. Ovlo the elder Cleric and Ollam scanned for magic, but with the runes now destroyed it did seem he was indeed free of it's magic. Keldri vowed that for saving his son’s life, and because no one should be enslaved or left all alone, the Gnome would always have a home in Stonebar.

Months past and Revenark and Golhyrra became close friends, he told him many many stories about the Dwarven people, deeds, their ways, and the wide eyed Gnome loved them all. Revenark had took the stories for granted as they had just always been around as part of his life, but to Golhyrra as a slave who had lost his past and never had a history that he knew of was in awed by the stories. Revenark fell in love with his people that day, seeing those stories in a new light and what they truly meant in his life. He vowed to himself then and there to always bring honor to his kin and never give into fear like he did upon seeing that Drow! Also, that him and Golhyrra would become blood brothers forever.

[Stonebar]

Chapter 6

Dwarves of up most Honor

In Revenarks memories those days seemed all to few. It was now only a week before his fifteenth birthday (8 or so if human). He was playing ball with Golyrra and talking about the new baby in the holding, and how wrinkly it was, when a shout was heard by the gate guard. “Drow!” The word that echoed in his mind, and stopped his heart. An orderly panic set in, the woman quickly gathered the old and those to young to fight, the men and shield maidens gathered arms and armor, and in no time the court yard was filled with organized lines of fully armed and armored Dwarves.

Keldri strode toward the main gate the only sounds were of his armored boots echoing along the bare stone walls of the court yard. Once the gate had opened only a tinny bit a slender Drow Yathrin snaked through. The Drow was clothed in form fitting black spider silk robes lined in a blood red web design. She gave an overly formal bow with a flourish that was sarcastic in nature given the disgusted look on her face as she took in her surroundings. Keldri cursed himself for letting her past the gates. Her voice and charm seemed some how not threatening as she pleasantly asked to have a tinny little talk in side.

“Magic he spit, must have been out of my mind to let her through the gate. I can’t afford ta be so bloody weak, every one is counting on me,” he turned to his second in command Sven of the Bloodaxe “If I start acting oddly you must take over, I don’t trust this lass one bit.” Sven was an ancient Dwarf of great wisdom and many battles. “Were all behind yah me brother, and she be a Drow, distrust go’s with out saying. Look here, we be respectin' yah Keldri, and we will happily die this day if needed”. He said reassuring Keldri. “Thanks old friend, but I hope to avoid the glories of those feast halls in heaven till another day.” said Keldri back with a now settled look on his face. “Well I be an old old man laddie, and I don’t be wishing ta die in me bed, so if yah ever be wanting ta smack that arrogant Drow bitch, please please do so.” Sven said jokingly patting him on the back, and putting a smile on Keldri's face as he walked forward to meet the lone Drow Yathern. “Ornery old coot” he thought smiling a little, before frowning and removing his helm. Standing tall he looked eye to eye with the woman that held the courtyards full attention all waiting to see who would blink first.

“So Dwarf“, she said phrased like an insult, “Where indeed is my pet?” “Pet?” asked Keldri not letting his stare flinch. The Drow sighed, “Why play supped little man, you know whom I speak of, and I thank you profoundly for holding on to him and keeping him safe, until -ME- it's owner returned for it“. Keldri’s eyes narrowed, “You speak as if we be friends lassie, we both knows that not be’ah true. So let’s be saying you found nothing here, and now ye can leave us in peace as we have no wish to be a threat to your people or lands.” “Threat, who you?” she said letting out a snide chuckle that she only slightly tried to hide. “You ARE no threat to us Dwarf, and what I wished as a compromise was to add you to my slave stock in Sizth... out of the kindness of my heart, rather then have you simply left for some wandering beast to feed upon your bloated corpses. “Deal, then?” she said with a chipper flare.

“Bloody hell bitch, your never be making any of me people slaves, this I vow to you now!“, Said Keldri giving Sven a look before turning back to the smug Drow. “Leave now and I will forget that insult, and we both get to live this day“. said Keldri tightly griping Balfrin, the ancestral waraxe of the Stoneholds its mithral head now glowing brightly, “Balfrin” that loosely translates to “Dwarven wrath”. The smile and smugness façade fell from her face to be replaced by one of anger and rage. “You dare talk to me in such away as to suggest we are some how equal! I have tried to be more then kind in offering you your life, most of you might even get to serve the same House together, so don’t let your sad little honor kill your entire Clan to the last child, like we did in Stonebar!” The Yathern said in a voice loudly enough for all in the stronghold to hear.

A bit of Keldri’s hair went flying as a throwing axe spun by his head hitting the Drow square in the chest, and knocking her off her feet. Keldri looked back toward Sven. “She was offering us slavery laddie, and any Dwarf here would gladly die first. Then she really messed up good, and disrespected Stonebar in front of me“, said Sven in a as-matter-of -factly tone. Keldri looked to his people, all were steadfast in their gaze, and he knew Sven was right. To let her continue to speak would have infected the morale of the Wardens. War was the only choice on the table it seemed as she would not have let them be. “Sven did you see to the others?” “Aye me brother, all the non Wardens be off and up the surface tunnels, and the way is caved in to prevent them from being followed,…right….about...” pausing until a thunderous rumbling was heard from inside the holding’s main hall…..“Now". "Its gon’ta be quite the dig after we kill any Drow stupid enough ta be poking a head over them walls“. Said Sven to Keldri both giving a nod and salute to each other with respect in their eyes, but they were both battle warn enough to know when a battle was lost.

“Man those walls! Get the spears and crossbows, aim for the mages!” Said Keldri as he replaced his helm. As he looked back down toward the Yathrin but to his dismay he did not see her. There was little time to ponder this as a wave of small black poisoned bolts poured out of the small crevasses and chinks in the old walls firing into the masses of Dwarfs in the courtyard. “Spread out they found the wall’s holes already, me brothers and sisters we got’sta burn them snakes out!” said Sven spiting and pulling a bolt from his shoulder plate and grabbing a Dwarven glass fire orb, “Got da be doing better then that ta poison an old Dwarf!” A Great darkness now completely obscured Dwarven sight, and it suddenly blanked the walls “You there, aim for the walls you be knowing where them bloody holes be, darkness or not!” yelled Keldri to his solders.” One thing we Dwarfs be knowing well is da sweat stained rock our own hands have worked!”

As soon as the liquid inside the glass balls which were now shattering upon the walls hit the air they alighted in a brilliant fiery explosion sending screaming Drow leaping away from the wall into a horde of waiting axes, their screams were quickly ended. “Now, again, and don’t be letting any of them bastards through that wall!” Keldri ordered, praying that the Drow might give up, at least long enough for his Wardens to make it to the others and reunite the Clan. This was no time to die heroically and leave what little was left of the Clan in shambles, and unable to care or defend its self. Time is all I need, just a little more time, thought Keldri watching volleys of fire orbs explode upon the walls their illuminating fire flicking through the darkness upon the stone walls.

Over the din of battle Sven heard the sounds of chanting, and ran to find its source. Throw the magical darkness he barely spotted the out line of the Yathrin he thought he had killed. Her darkness magic now fading some as she called upon powerful spells. Sven yelled a Dwarven battle cry, “Nyr doch!” (loosely, eat this axe) and charged toward her. His axe held tight he swung it in a deadly arch that only someone with over a hundred battles under his belt could hope for. Sven hit just as her casting came to its end. A spiral mass of smoke appeared and grew quickly, dark forms could be seen in side flying around. A massive winged beast with a great sword sheathed in fire could barely be seen flickering in the shadowy pulsating pool. The Yathrin dropped to her knee’s under the might of the axe’s blow, so great that her magical shielding failed, it flashing brightly and then drifted away like steam from a kettle. It did manage to still save her life from Sven’s last two attempt at killing her. “You ilhar del Gol (mother of a goblin) will pay! I will make sure that pain lasts an eternity!” the Drow screeched through clenched teeth over the war cry's from the Wardens of Stonebar.

[Stonebar]

Chapter 7

A Dwarf's vow is eternal

Quickly the Yathirn leaped to her feet, with her right hand she snapped her staff like a whip with sudden force causing its top part to unravel into a half a dozen snakes, all six of them lashed around biting at the air. With her left hand now shielded from an adamantine buckler that snapped out from her bracer. She then touched her amulet causing it to glow red and pulsate like a watch tower’s beacon. Sven yelled pounding blow after blow upon her shield trying as much to kill her as to keep her from casting. The yathrin looked to be hurting badly, those countless cleaving swings of that mighty waraxe was taking it's toll. Blood flowed freely from the myriad of cuts from the glancing blows along her shield arm that was no doubt now broken, it was only her magic that still kept her alive.

A deep slash of red blood dripped from a large swift cut, that now scaring her once flawless face. “Dam this witch, how many lives does she have” cursed Sven, thinking he was sure that last blow should have removed this hag’s head. Enraged, the Yathrin lashed out with the full frenzy and anger which oozed from her highly chaotic, evil, and depraved goddess Lolth. She whipped her snake staff across Sven’s shoulders causing those heads to bite deeply in to his neck, and face. Sven could feel the poison at once. He was already wounded and had lost much blood, he silently prayed for the strength to take this (germbag) of her goddess with him to the afterlife.

Into the court yard a fiery beast of a Balor now stepped from the shadowy portal the Yathrin had called forth, following in its wake poured scores of Imps and other twisted monstrous spawns. They leaped on the heads and backs, seeking any soft spot that could be found. The refugees turned warriors fought relentlessly through magical waves of fear. Yet gnashing teeth and claws would be the last thing that many a good Dwarf would see before passing into the next world. Keldri stormed forward seeing the Balor appear, just as the magical darkness faded away.

Seeing the Beast leaping toward Sven, Keldri bellowed trying to get the monsters attention and slamming Balfrin deep into the Balor’s left wing and back just before it could slice that flaming sword down upon Svens back. From the wound black acidic blood sprayed forth scorching Keldri’s face and armor. The Balor slammed his flaming sword in to the shield of Sven cutting it in two, but Keldri’s blow still caused the Balor to just miss removing Sven's head as well. The Balor's whip of flame took Sven off his feet as the Yathrin’s snakes bit deeply again, their poison now leaving the ancient Dwarf unable to move. Keldri roared a call to his God and ancestors for strength as Balfrin’s next blow cleaved into the hardened leg of the Balor with all its might, causing the beast to stumbled almost dropping to one knee and showering Keldri with a new spray of black ichor.

The Yathrin, feeling her Balor could handle a simple Dwarf, cast the final spell on her amulet, and more portals of darkness formed behind her. With in the darkness could be seen over a score of Drow solders just waiting to pass through the dark cascades of swirling mist, and bypass the walls directly into the center court yard. She now stalked over to the paralyzed Sven with a gleeful look on her face, and slid a twisted jeweled dagger from a leg sheath. “With this” she mused, “Your life force will be forever trapped, for ever in my grasp, for ever held within this dagger. You will be made to kill, again and again, and you will feel it all in agonizing clarity, for ever.” With each word her voice got louder, and a sickly grin like that of a child picking apart a bug grew with each movement closer.

Keldri saw her out of the corner of his eye, and knew he had to act fast. Taking that small window of time the Balor stumbled he rushed toward her... 20 feet... 10 feet... 5 feet, then with a strength so strong that it stopped the charging Dwarf cold, and all but snapped his leg in two, he was dropped to the ground hard. He found himself being pulled by his now dislocated leg, the Balor’s whip had lashed around it and he could feel it starting to burning through his armor.

Reaching around his neck he grabbed for the Stone horn, passing his hand over the etchings looking for strength. The last Dwarven solder's war cry fell quiet, and Sven now risked his soul to the hands of that Drow harpy! He knew what must be done, there seemed no other way, the vow he made to them all must be held. He pulled the horn from his neck snapping its chain.

As the Balor dragged him ever closer he pulled the horn to his mouth sounding it with all the strength he had. A shock wave of incredible pure sound reverberated around the courtyard, the monstrous beast grabbed their heads in pain, a few even fleeing through the portals. The Balor jerked hard now sending Keldri flying, and landing with a thud near the beast’s hoofed feet. The whip tore free melting the Dwarven plate armor and pulling some of the flesh from his leg off as it did.

Keldri fought hard to avoid blacking out from the excruciating pain. Throwing all his weight forward using the remaining momentum from the Balor's pull he slammed Balfrin deep in to the beast’s Sword arm as it swung downward seeking to chop Keldri in half. The move caught the Balor off guard, the axe all most cleaving the beast's hand off and sending it's sword flying as he staggered backward bellowing. Keldri landed on his legs wincing in pain as he felt the leg snap sending him to the ground with a hard thud. He fought hard to sit up before the Balor or some spawn cut him down, he pulled him self up by a fallen statue of King Stonefist the first. He sounded the horn a second time, the shock wave this time sent a shattering force rippling throw the air and with unspeakable force killing the feasting spawn‘s that were unlucky enough to get in the way, and slamming them into the now fracturing center column. The Balor reacted seemingly far to fast for something so large, flying just out side of the blast, then swooping down striking Keldri with enough force to knock his helm off. As blood poured from the gash in his head every thing went dark, the feeling of falling, falling, and falling seemed to last forever, and all he could hear was the Balor roaring in triumph.

A loud sound of rumbling and a cracking snap brought Keldri back as he hit the ground. Every bone in his body prayed for death, but his soul refused to let go. "One more, just one more sounding," he mutter, softly. The Balor Leapt to the side as the center column came crashing down sending rocks, dust, and debris flying through out the courtyard. Keldri’s hand reached up as if to grab hold of some unseen person, “Please, please my lord, I pray, I beg you, don’t let me fail them, don’t….please, don’t let me f….” Keldri tried to force his other arm to move, but his whole right side was unresponsive. Exhausted his left arm dropped, tears rolled down the broken dwarf cheeks forming tracks in the caked blood. No I will not fail them he thought “NO!“ he yelled.

The Drow Yathrin was still bending over Sven, and was taking her time readying the magic words needed to complete the soul stealing ritual that she now whispered lovingly to the blade as it appeared to slither around in the fire that reflected on the black and red veined demonic blade’s surface. So focused in her trance she was only slightly distracted as the large column smashed into the ground only thirty feet away. Sven forced a smile in knowing his commander still pulled in breath.“Praise be ta God I will not die in me bed!” yelled Sven with sudden force. The Yathrin swiftly back handed the Dwarf to quiet his laughing, .“You will not die at all dear man, my sweet lovely dagger will rip the soul out of your slowly dissolving flesh, that eternal soul you can expect to never find rest.” Sighing she boasted “I am feeling quite well, and very pleased by this assault. Your children should at least get a head start, the hunt is ever so much more exhilarating when the prey thinks it has a chance to escape.”

Keldri focused on seeing if he could still move anything else, or even stand, he still could not see, and all was shroud blackness. With shear force of will he managed to lift his head up, his hand brushing upon warm stone as he did. Shakenly he traced his hand over the ancient runes and masterfully carved living rock of the horn, pulling it up to his chest he prayed, “Thank you lord, thank you, just give me just a little more, and I be there soon.” He could hear the Balor’s hooves and breathing as it found him through the clouds of dust and debris. With one last breath Keldri of the Stoneholds, Clan elder, father, and husband, sounded the horn made from the very heart of Stonebar, but no sound came forth, only an enveloping feeling, one of a heavy oppressive weight that was pulling down on everything.

The Balor Stood over the barely alive Dwarf seeming slightly impressed his prey still had any breath left. Raising its flaming great sword with both hands high above its head the Balor cackled loudly at the futility of the Dwarf’s actions. Keldri had heard Sven’s shout, and he let his head roll back and the horn drop to his side. Whispering to the Balor with his last breath, “Ha leave it do a Drow ta milk out her revenge, I’m just in time me brother he sighed, and that first ale be on me.” His words cut off over the thunderous roar. Keldri’s last thoughts were of Helga and his son, and soul wrenching feeling that he was abandoning them. The Balor’s flaming sword now fell, ripping through his Dwarven plate and cleaving deep into the Stonehold’s ancient bed rock bellow.

The spawn’s and Balor had slaughtered the entire Dwarven force in the courtyard, and the Drow warriors were soon to be stepping through the portals, that were attuned to her amulet, and they would hunt the others down room to room. “Your soul belongs to me now my little bug, or perhaps maybe the beast that killed your captain might want you, your souls are always in demand. But alas any last words Dwarf?“ the Yathrin mused. Behind her, the portals of shadows burst outward, and her Drow warriors appeared to her within the Stonehold courtyard moving to quickly surround the Yathrin.

“Last words you say lassie, aye indeed I do” coughed out Sven “I have a hell of a question for yeah“, he whispered drawing the curios Drow closer. “Will you make that hunt ye planning before……or after the underdark buries you deep within its belly.” whispered Sven softly into her ear. Letting his head roll back as the poison took its toll. Sven looked to the ceiling and the massive cracks that got bigger, and bigger. As the first large chunks came crashing down he laughed softly at the perplexed Drow who had not heard the rumbling and cracking of the stone walls and ceiling all around them over the roars of their celebrating Balor. “That horn’s a bitch on stonemasons girly, bet ye nay could of heard that last one? Every Dwarf within miles did, and the stones sure as hells did” laughed Sven, as the priestess quickly reached for her spidery Lolthen symbol.

The Yathrin screamed loudly in wrathful anger, but her dark god’s magic would not save her. As her hand grasp air where her symbol once was for the object she desperately needed to focus her god‘s dark energy. "That dam Dwarf must have ripped it off me when I leaned close". How the hell could he still move!” she screeched as her warriors tried in vain to open the gates. Noooooo! The Drow Cleric yelled in defiance as countless thousands of tons of rock buried the fortress of Stonehold, Balor, and Drow to the last.

The Horn of Might, forged in the heart of Stonebar had sounded the end of Stonehold with Keldri’s last breath. None of those he loved and served would ever know slavery. The horn lay protected by a mountain of rock, and his ancestral home would never lay in the hands of the Drow.

[Stonebar]

For what ever reason I ran out of steam and never finished the last three. I'll try to do that, after 8 1/2 years It's about time I finished it lol.
A hollow heart, and mixed welcomes.
The light of day to the darkest night
Despair, dishonor, and a revelation