Baldur's Gate : The Sword Coast Chronicles : NWN2 Persistent World

Volume I of the Krinkrak Chronicles - Cragnus.



A low drum beat rumbled into the room where two dwarves stood, conversing. "Listen to me Cragnus, me boy". Magus Dalnid was short and rotund, but his stubby fingers were deft at spellcasting, as evidenced by the continued survival of the clan. "We have dozens o' capable axe swingers and shield bashers in Krinkrak, but ain't any of them have so much as a lick of skill in the Art, I need ye with me lad". Cragnus sighed and looked aside, focusing his attention on strapping on his armour and boots. "Ye're not wrong, Magus, but I know what the elders are whispering to each other, might be not everyone knows it, but Krinkrak ain't gonna hold another month, or I'm a durned halfling". Cragnus finished donning his equipment, and gazed over a nearby weapons rack briefly before picking up an axe and hefting it lightly. "There's no way outta this situation, and by Clanggedin, If I'm to fall, It'll be aside me brothers, axe in hand".
"Side by side with your friend Semli you mean. Besides, there's always a way out, If'n ye know how to look". Dalnid could see that Cragnus was no longer listening, and so trailed off with a sigh.
"The drums have sounded Master Dalnid, my kin await in the central halls and there I will stand with them".

******

Hours later in the Mead Hall, Cragnus leaned back in his chair, surrounded by the subdued murmer of dwarves. He was jolted out of his ale-induced doze by a sudden punch to his shoulder. The young dwarf glared open his eyes to see a grinning Semli sit down beside him with his tankard and plate of meat and beer-battered mushrooms. "What'dya have to be so happy about, ye dolt?"
"I'm to be asshigned me own sqshwad" replied Semli around a mouthful of sweet potato. He washed it down with a swig of ale and continued. "Hrold thinks I'm ready, I'm better with an axe in me left hand than most are with their main!" He tore off another piece of meat and added "Not including yeself of course Cragnus, ye fought well today. You'd do well to keep ahold o' that axe fer good, and maybe get in to the barracks some more fer sparri-".
Cragnus cut him off with a sour grimace "Aye well you stick to your training, and I'll stick to mine, if'n ye know what's good for ye..."
Semli eyed him askance a moment before responding. "Ye know I'm yer friend Cragnus, I only - "
"Bah, but I know, it's just this durned situation has got me on edge". His words were punctuated by the renewed hammer of the drums from the floors above. Cragnus met Semli's eyes as dwarves all around them pushed back their chairs and stood with grim purpose. "It's becoming more frequent Semli, don't tire yerself out, the clan needs ye".
"It needs all of us, friend".

******

Cragnus assembled along with roughly three dozen dwarves, kinsmen he'd known his entire life. Most were equipped with heavy axes and a type of large shield unique to Krinkrak. The clan chief appeared from the lower stairs, in full Krinkrak leader's regalia, plated mail etched with dwarven runes, a visored full helmet and a great warhammer that seemed to faintly thrum with power, primary among the treasures of the clan. He strode through the gathering, pointing with gauntleted fist and barking orders, directing dwarves to their positions. It was clear that the seasoned warriors didn't need direction however, and Cragnus was soon in a line, behind Semli and the warriors of his squad.
Semli managed a weak grin as he donned his helm. "Watch me back eh, Cragnus? I don't intend t'die from behind".
Cragnus grunted in reply before turning his gaze to the gate at the distant end of the hall. Beyond the gate led the stairs to the upper levels, already seized in prior attacks from months past. The great iron doors had long since been sundered, but dwarven furniture was heaped in a great pile before the entrance, reinforced as much as possible by the Krinkrak engineers.
The warriors stood in tense silence broken only by the steady "Thrum Thrum THRUM Thrum" of the war drums. Hands clenched around weapons, eyes narrowed intently toward the end of the chamber. From behind, Cragnus could hear whispered prayers to Moradin, calling upon his blessings.
"Thrum Thrum THRUM Thrum".
"Thrum Thrum THRUM Thrum".
A bright surge of light bloomed from the end of the hall and with a dull roar the barricade exploded, flinging pieces of flaming furniture dozens of feet in all directions.


//To be continued...

//comments are welcome, also other Krinkrak dwarves can feel free to add their bios or stories to this thread.

Continued...

A bright surge of light bloomed from the end of the hall and with a dull roar the barricade exploded, flinging pieces of flaming furniture dozens of feet in all directions.

A howling tide of goblins poured through the breach, faces twisted in savage glee. With a sinking heart, Cragnus understood the truth. All of the attacks onto this level before now had been but feints, thrusts designed to test the defenses of the central halls. In all the weeks previous, the deflected attacks had done nothing to cull their numbers, the number of goblins already in the hall made the small group of dwarves look laughable. Looking to either side, Cragnus saw the reality reflected on the grim faces of his kinsmen. This wasn't just another raid, this was an attempt to finish them for good.

As the horde swept towards them, the voice of the Krinkrak chieftan bellowed, voice carrying over the approaching roar.
"SHIELDS!"
The front rank of dwarves raised their shields, interlocking them while leaving a peculiar small circular gap between each shield.
"CROSSBOWS!"
The second rank of dwarves stepped forward, fitting the ends of their heavy crossbows into the gaps. Behind the initial wave of goblins, Cragnus could see larger shapes coming through the gate.
"FIRE!".

This last order was lost in the overwhelming noise, but the warriors knew what to do. A dozen crossbows unleashed and dispatched a score of goblins, heavy dwarven bolts punching through flesh and armour alike with ease. The pace of the attackers did not falter, and they were shortly in range to hurl spears back at the dwarves, most deflecting ineffectively off of shields, some arcing over their heads. Behind him, Cragnus heard a prayer cut off abruptly with a wet gurgle. Before he could react the goblins were upon them, seeking to overwhelm the meager defenders with ferocity and sheer numbers. The shrieking green humanoids threw themselves bodily into the shield wall, shoved from behind or simply heedless of the crude weapons in their hands. Less experienced soldiers may have buckled immediately, wavering before the near irresistable charge.

But these were no long-legged surface militia, these were Krinkrak dwarves, and they resisted. Knees bent, shoulders hunched - the shield bearers held. And when the crossbow wielders lay down their weapons and braced the front rank with their sturdy arms - the shield dwarves pushed back. Goblins crashed back to the ground, or were flung back to tangle with the ones behind, sending many down in a tangle of limbs.
With a collective shout of 'Krinkrak!', the dwarves struck back, axes darting forward with brutal efficiency, to sink into chests and sever limbs. While muttering a few phrases, Cragnus saw Semli toss his shield into the path of an incoming goblin before drawing a second axe and wading into the melee. With his arcane shielding in place, the young magus followed suit. His first opponent was distracted, and didn't notice the dwarf until his axe split it's skull with a sharp crack. The next two were ready for him, and Cragnus had trouble fending off their spears until a bolt exploded through one of their heads - fired by one the crossbowmen who once more had weapons in hand and were picking targets at will. The modestly skilled dwarf was then able to slip past the remaining goblin's guard and sever its hands with a downward chop, sending it reeling backwards in anguish. Before he could follow up, a cry of alarm lifted Cragnus' attention to the scene before him. A ripple of motion passed through the enemy ranks as they cleared a path - at the end of which stood two goblins waving their hands. The individuals were bedecked in what Cragnus assumed was ceremonial attire - animal furs, necklaces of bones and the like. In an instant of panic, Cragnus recognised the mystic passes from his hours under the strict tutelage of his teacher Dalnid.
Having no time to give warning, he dived to the ground and frantically erected a rudimentary elemental shield to cloak himelf. Moments later, twin explosions yielded a massive concussive roar directly overhead. Heat hotter than a forge fire scorched Cragnus' back, causing him to emit a yell that he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.

When he finally looked up, he could see that the defenders had been decimated. Armour was blackened, and every dwarf was burned to varying degrees. Several did not rise from where they lay crumpled against the wall. As he began to sink to despair, his eyes were drawn to a dwarf standing ahead of the others. Alone against a dozen goblins and a trio of bugbears the Krinkrak chieftan charged, beard aflame. With a fury Cragnus had never seen, the chieftan dived between them, hammer slamming left and right to fell a goblin with each swing. Heedless of the numerous spears shattering against his breastplate, he reached the first bugbear, dodged a wildly swung club and then hit it's kneecap, shattering it. As it bent over, howling in pain, the Krinkrak leader swung down with a mighty overhand blow, dropping it instantly. The remaining dwarven forces rallied to him just as the remaning two large goblinoids slammed him with their clubs simultaneously, sending him skidding back along with the floor with a screech of metal.

As Cragnus finally scrambled to his feet, he saw that Semli had followed the chief and was helping him pat down the flames on his beard along with a third dwarf who wasn't part of the initial defending group. The three conferred briefly, the newcomer gesturing emphatically, before all quickly running down the stairs to the lower halls. The chief shouted a final 'Hold them!' over his shoulder before disappearing from sight.
With shaking hands, he ran to join the dozen or so remaining dwarves already being overrun by the never ending horde.

******

Lying among the bodies of his fallen kinsmen, Cragnus bled from a dozen wounds, soaking through his clothes and dribbling through cuts in his armour. Underlying his ragged breathing was the faint sounds of battle from below, but in this place, all was quiet.
As his blood drained from him, his mind deliriously turned inward, recalling lessons with his teacher. Magic wasn't well respected among clan Krinkrak, not seen as something worth devoting time to. As such, Cragnus was often shunned by his kin, seen as something of an oddity despite also taking the time to train in arms like the others.

Dalnid had earned his place though, and few spurned his wise advice."There is always a solution to every problem, a way out o' every situation. The only requirement is t' be clever enough to know where ter look" he had lectured Cragnus one day. "Be clever Cragnus, and ye might just live t' be as old as meself!".

But all Cragnus could see when he looked was his blood, a dark red pool spreading beside him. Idly, Cragnus tuned his thoughts to the blood still inside him, feeling the ebb and flow of his life force as his heart thudded slowly in his chest. Life is just energy, he mused, and energy can be manipulated. Within the shadowed recesses of his barely conscious mind, Cragnus called his blood, and the blood responded.
His bleeding slowed to a trickle and then ceased completely, and with laboured agony, he began his arduous crawl to the broken gate and the stairs leading up beyond.

******

Cragnus crawled a few more feet across the rugged mountainside before finally giving up, the bright sunlight strangely dark around the edges. His breath came in gasps and he could no longer focus enough to stem his flow of blood. Cragnus didn't know how long he lay there until a strong hand grabbed his and pulled him to his knees. The dwarf's grievous wounds began to mend and he looked up into the haunted eyes of Olard Krinkrak. Cragnus scrubbed a calloused hand across his eyes, the hand coming away wet. "I failed brother, the clan has fallen..."
Olard then looked down at their hands firmly clasped.
"Nay, Krinkrak holds".

Chaplain Olard Krinkrak walks through the great halls of his clan, mind shut to the fact that he was the only living dwarf he had seen since the last ambush. 'My brothers must see me fight with them. They must know Moradin stands with us. Krinkrak holds!' A mantra blanking his mind to the grevious wounds he had taken and giving him strength to keep moving. As if by instinct he finds his way to the temple doors, barred by strong iron and the stronger still body of a dwarven elder, warspear in abdomen. A lethal wound, Olard would usually assume, but Krinkrak dwarves had been known to survive worse. Maybe, just maybe... He places his hand on the fallen dwarf and prays to Moradin, willing his fading lifeforce to flow once more. The elder stirs.
"Olard... Go... get out..." He speaks in stutters, pausing between words to give a pained groan or wheeze
"Elder, I cannot leave. My brothers need me here."
"Your brothers are dead or already out... They need a leader... Go and guide them"
Olard is taken aback "I am no leader, born into the priesthood, not nobility"
"Your brothers have seen you fight... They have felt your healing... You are respected... You're the only one who can lead them"
"I will not abandon our home. I would rather die here than leave it to these beasts"
"It's because you won't that you must... Go Olard... Krinkrak must hold"
With that the ancient dwarf breathes his last breath. Olard stands, lingers for a long moment, and turns back.

A new collection of Krinkrak dwarves have been seen active in the region of late, including a wise old veteran, an especially stout shield bearer and a crazed madman apprenticed to the magus, Cragnus.

A momentous event has transpired for the Krinkraks this evening, as the first assembly of their new council was held in a chamber of Kraak Helzak.

For long hours, much was discussed between the heads of the clan, and testimony was heard from the honoured guests which were called upon to attend.

Topics of administration, trade, alliances, finances and war were all covered, and a foundation was set for the future of the recuperating Krinkrak clan.

//Thanks to all who attended (and apologies for the long duration), and we're welcoming of other characters with plausible business with the clan for future sessions.

Much of the history of the Krinkrak clan perished along with the elders and the hold itself, however, burned deep into the mind of every survivor is the series of events culminating in the loss of their home.

Krinkrak timeline of events (Dale Reckoning):

1320: Outposts of Krinkrak hold report increased attacks by goblinkin in the surrounding area.

1321: Krinkrak war parties counterattack some of the nearby tribes, successfully winning peace for a number of years.

Mirtul 1326: A large horde of goblins, orcs, bugbears and the like storm and destroy an outpost in one single night of blood, no dwarven survivors. A mysterious figure who claims to have united the disparate monstrous creatures declares war on clan Krinkrak.

Flamerule 1326: Although some elements of the clan wanted to break the goblin host on the open field, under the wiser counsel of the Elders the Krinkrak king declared all outposts and lands surrounding the mountain fortress were to abandoned in order to concentrate the krinkrak forces in one place.
At the height of summer, the gates were shut and barred. The vast majority of the clan was assembled, though any Krinkrak's scattered outside were now unable to return.

1327: The elders and king had assumed that the horde would disperse once they failed to immediately gain entry into the dwellings, however the aggressors seemed driven by single minded purpose. Month after month enormous boulders rained down upon the facade of the mountain keep, hurled by a relentless group of giants, as though they would batter down the mountain itself. A brave party of dwarf warriors, many of them the eldest among the clan, exited through a secret passage elsewhere on the mountain slopes. None of these dwarves were seen again, but so too did the deadly rain cease before too badly damaging the frontal structure. Afterwards the secret passage was discovered and kept tightly shut and the siege continued.

Mirtul 24 1334: After 7 long years of siege hotter heads finally prevailed and a mass of steel clad dwarven shieldwarriors sallied forth to do battle at the enemy encampment. This however was what the cunning enemy general had been waiting for. The warriors found themselves outnumbered and outflanked on all sides, attacked even from the air by some foul beasts. At the same time, goblin sappers broke into the store rooms far below in the hold, where they quickly pillaged the already dwindling food stocks.
It was due to the now legendary actions of two young dwarves, Semli and Sugnar that allowed the clan to avoid total collapse then and there.
Semli had spent long years under the tutelage of some of the oldest and finest commanders in the clan. It was he that spotted a weakness in the encirclement of the vast army, and he swiftly took decisive action. Throwing down his cumbersome shield, he picked up a second axe from a fallen brother. Thusly armed he led a charge into the enemy lines, rallying the nearby warriors in the wake of his whirling tempest and carving out a bloody path of retreat back to the hold for his embattled comrades.
Meanwhile, a fierce battlerager by the name of Sugnar was seeking to find comfort in a cask of ale from the storeroom, to drown the misery of being left behind in the hold while most of the army attacked. He found himself in a corridor nearby to the storerooms when they were breached. Rather than fleeing to the upper levels to gather what reinforcements he could, he instead bellowed a warcry and leaped to battle with greataxe in hand. For more than two hours he held the corridor alone, weathering spears, stones, arrows and worse upon his bare unarmoured chest. By the time the clan wizard and his apprentice Cragnus arrived and magically collapsed the tunnel, Sugnar bore hundreds of wounds that would lead to him being horrifically scarred and horrible to look upon.

25 Mirtul 1334: With much of the army and supplies gone, it was gravely decided that the survival of the entire clan was at stake. An escape plan was formed, a tunnel was to be mined from a level deep within the hold, to an exit far beyond. Many dwarves rejected the notion of abandoning the fort, but nevertheless construction began.

29 Mirtul 1334 - Kythorn 1335: The storming of Krinkrak. Through foul magics of unknown origin, the front gate of the mountain home was ripped abruptly away. Inward poured the doom of the clan, and the remaining Krinkrak dwarves rose to meet it. Men and woman alike, warriors and civilians, beardlings and elders took up axe and shield. Room by room, hall by hall and level by level the dwarves fought, killed and died. For an entire year the invasion was stalled by the sacrifice of hundreds of dwarves, but the price was paid in blood. At the height of desperation, before the bitter last stand was necessary, the escape tunnel was complete, bearing the few dozen survivors to safety in the dead of night. No remaining Krinkrak knows the fate of their king.

1349: In lieu of a king, the majority of surviving Krinkrak dwarves are led to the sword coast by Olard, the only surviving chaplain (and thus by default, spiritual and de facto leader of the clan), where they presently live but are not settled.

Present day: Under the administration of a new Council, the clan continues to slowly grow, whether it's scattered survivors returning to the fold, or those in distant lands when the hold fell, or a generation of beardlings reaching adulthood. In the hearts of all is a burning desire for revenge and to see the halls of their ancestral hold reclaimed.

An expedition of good Krinkrak dwarves set out today to test the mettle of the most powerful adversaries they could find. They were joined by Ragnar Fire-Born, a particularly stout ally.

One among the clan did fall, but not beyond the reach of the High Priest.