Private Tales The Lost Kingdom

[Haelen Blacklocks]

The Valley of Tholbor was a small and impoverished township nestled beneath the towering peaks of The Spine. When the skies were clear one could see the Great Gates of Khazar far off along the mountainside. A reminder of a great Dwarven mystery. For some locals it was enough to force their departure from town, moving to Belgrath where it was believed to be safer. Other Dwarves were invigorated by the story of Khazar and awaited the day that their kin reclaimed those ancient halls.

One such Dwarf was Haelen Blacklocks. He rode into town upon a giant ram, a throng of warriors from Clan Tholbor followed behind on their own giant rams. The steeds bleated and kicked as their reigns were pulled in. The Dwarves grunted and grumbled, mumbling annoyance at the beasts of burden. Haelen dropped from his giant ram and landed in a muddy patch of earth. He was old, far older than the warriors around him. His beard was a mighty white, far off from the days of his namesake. An eye was concealed by an eye-patch. He wore robes of chain and black steel and a Warhammer hung from a leather belt.

Haelen Blacklocks had taken asylum in Tholbor for some time, rallying the throng of Clan Tholbor as his own. Although their equipment was far less impressive. They held aloft great wooden shields and wore simple leathers. A few had iron pot helmets they were able to afford, many had hammers, picks and axes for defense, using both as weapons of trade and war.

The town boasted a population of no more than a thousand. With no supply to the mines of Khazar they were forced to import minerals from far away holds and lands. They plied their trade as wood carvers, lumbermen and builders, although such work in Tholbor was limited.

The throng gathered outside a tavern, tying up their rams and grooming them while Haelen marched through the doors. Inside were more Dwarves and a spattering of Humans and even fewer Elves. Orcs did not visit this part of The Spine. His eyes narrowed and searched for a woman of fiery hair. He had been told by word of mouth that one such lady was a sorceress.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Bright red hair could be seen at a table nearby as the mage in question laughed uproariously with a group of humans and dwarves. They each had some ale, wine, or hard spirit in a glass before them, and all had the signs of travelers, rather than people from this village. They were playing some form of card game, the type that looked to have some arcane pattern to the rules, but was actually easy to play once you sat down to do so.

The dealer changed to Valdyna, and she collected the cards and shuffled them in quick, deft fingers before tossing them out quickly to each person at the table. Once she was done dealing the cards, she picked up her hand and sorted the cards. Then she plucked two from the hand and placed them face down to her right. The young dwarf to her left did the same, and she picked up those cards to review. An observer could see a happy gleam in her eyes that she tried to hid as she folded her cards in her hand to wait for everyone else to be done.

Hairs on the back of her kneck clued her into someone watching her. As Haelen Blacklocks eyes fell upon her, she looked up and directly into those eyes. She quirked here eyebrows up with a smile and a happy nod of her head before looking back to her fellow card players.

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

Haelen locked eyes on the woman and began to approach the table. As he closed in the venerable warrior placed a gloved hand on a dwarfs shoulder, he spoke in their native tongue with grace, although to the human ears such a language sounded crude, akin to the grinding of stones. "Arrogoth-kin, the ancestors praise your path," he said in greeting, "Who is the woman?"

The dwarf looked up and greeted Haelen likewise, before divulging, "Valdyna, Haelen of Clan Blacklocks." Haelen smiled at the recognition. Those who had survived the fall of Khazar were well known in these parts, most of all the Prince in Exile. Khazar had after all ruled these lands as part of its meagre influence over this distant range of The Spine.

"Thankyou," Haelen said and then addressed the woman directly in common tongue, his accent thick, "Ah, Valdyna yeh? Eh 'ave 'eard o' you. Eh am Haelen Blacklocks." He pulled a chair out and seated himself, "Ah 'ope yeh don' mind meh watchin' now. What's t'ah game yeh playin'?"

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Valdyna watched the elder dwarf approach from the corner of her eye. He sat down and introduced himself, so she folded her cards again and nodded to the dwarf.

"Well met, Haelen Blacklocks." She replied, pushing her chair aside a little bit to allow the dwarf a better view of the table. Valdyna was dressed in a dark gray shirt, a soft brown hooded mantle, brown trews, and black boots that came up to her mid calf. A simple looking sword leaned against the table near her, in a simple sheath that looked like it strapped around the torso to be held on the back. "I am unsure of the name of this game, but the rules are fairly simple. You deal out the cards so everyone has seven, each person passes two cards. First hand is passed to the left, second hand to the right, and so on, back and forth. The goal is to make the strongest hand, four of a kind is good, like suits are good as well."

She reached forward to her tankard of ale and took a draw on it.

"It's a good social lubricant, like the ale." She finished, placing her cards on the table and leaning back. "You've heard of me, and you're here. May I assume you're looking for me?"

Over the dwarfs shoulder, Valdyna caught sight of a face that looked decidedly unhappy since she turned to fully face the dwarf. The face looked a bit familiar, but she'd been travelling with a caravan, so the man could be anyone, and she paid it no mind.

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

"Aye," Haelen agreed as he studied the back of the cards and the players who scrutinized their decks. "Tis simple 'nough, even tempts meh tah plae". As the woman turned to him he did so too, turning to face her, "An' aye yeh be roight in meh lookin' for yeh. Tholbor don' get lot o' traffic, let aloe' ah sorceress." He said the last with a bit of uncertainty, what if some kind had played a cruel joke on him to embarrass him? Surely something his brother Dolgan would have once done many years ago.

He continued, "Eh got ah gate t'at need openin' an' man-ee have tried, but folk 'ere arrh stubborn, ah am lookin' fer fresh eyes." The tavern door swung open and the throng of Clan Tholbor entered with a resounding cheer of welcome. Many here recognised their bloodline and quickly the throng dispersed into the crowd to join their brothers, sisters and friends. Haelen gave a quick glance over his shoulder then looked back to the woman. "Weh pay good, got ah 'ole throng o' Dwarves t'at'll keep us safe."

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

"Weh pay good, got ah 'ole throng o' Dwarves t'at'll keep us safe."

Magic words, those. When you want to go to school, but don't want to have your family pay for it, you had to find what work you could. That it was an interesting mystery was only a bonus on top of that. She couldn't just take any job that came her way, though, and she knew next to nothing about this dwarf.

Her eyes turned towards the dwarf that Haelen Blacklocks had spoken to before approaching her. He'd met him on the trip up this way from Alliria, knew him to be honorable. She didn't think he'd had any grudge against her, and he had spoken with reverence, so far as she could tell.

"Sounds like you have a need and a will. Lets see if I can't get you a way, in." She chuckled and slid her chair back a bit. She grabbed the sword up and slipped it around onto her back. "I've gotta square up with the caravan master, grab my gear, then I'll be ready to go when you are."

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

As she rose, so did Haelen. He gave a curt nod, acknowledging her statement but not offering a verbal reply. He spoke the common tongue well, but he didn't speak it often these days. A meaty gloved hand stroked his long wiry beard and smoothed back his head of hair. He bellowed in Dwarfish to his companions, "The lass is on board, feed and saddle your rams, we head out by the eve."

The venerable dwarf strode through the tavern and departed the way he had come. The sun outside was at the apex of its summit and this time of year the snowfall was few and far inbetween. Today it was a view of rare clear skies. He glanced over his shoulder to Valdyna and rose a heavy finger to the top of the highest peak in view, "Up t'ere."

Nearest the top of the mountain rose great stone gates. Even from their incredible distance they could still be seen. Such magnitude made human architects and engineers wonder at how such impressive gates were opened and closed. It boggled the minds of many races but the Dwarves believed if there is a will there is a way. Abandoned villages dotted around the entrance to Khazar, nestled in the shadow of the Great Gates like ants.

The company of Clan Tholbor warriors left the tavern and moved towards their giant rams, and so did Haelen. He left Valdnya to deal with her business while he checked his saddle and bags, ordering his troops to likewise check supplies. Warm cloaks and salted meats were a necessity, as well as provisions to start campfires and pitch tents. The march to Khazar would be both long and treacherous.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Valdyna followed her new employer out of the tavern, then let her gaze follow his finger to look upon the gates. She nodded, the distance was farther than it seemed, she couldn't sense anything from here. She only hoped the issue with the gates was arcane based and not engineering. She never knew how Dwarves could build such large gates, and those were the only two real options. If they were locked mechanically, her services may not be of use.

"I'll be back in a moment." She said, then turned back into the tavern.

She walked up to the caravan master, and quickly finalized her payment for travelling with them. Her gear was in a wagon near the tavern. Her next goal was to go grab it, then her horse. At that point she would be ready to travel with the dwarven company.

Minutes later, she had her cloak about her shoulders, hood of her mantle up, and her horse saddled and bearing her gear. She walked it from the stable, then mounted swiftly and rode towards the rams.

"I am ready, Master Blacklocks." She said when within conversation distance.

Haelen Blacklocks

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

The sorceress left and headed back to the tavern and for a few moments Haelen simply appreciated the view of the gates. His company of twenty saddled their rams and clambered atop them with grunts and groans. Some laughed and joked with one another, others talked quietly in conspiratorial tones, others remained silent, fearful of what lay ahead.

They knew Haelen had come for the sorceress and that they would attempt to break the seals holding the gates shut. An impossible task some surmised, others thought it foolhardy. Few knew why the gates had shut and many didn't want to find out. The older Arrogoth-kin suggested that the gates closing was a terrible omen and that opening them would unleash a curse upon them all. Haelen ignored such talk. He was heir to the throne of Khazar. It was on his clan honor that he find out the fate of his father and brother and if needed he would bring down terrible vengeance.

Valdyna returned and at her beckon Haelen mounted his ram. "T'is ah few days march. If yeh need supplies t'ere ought tah beh ah merchant along tha path ye' can harass with coin." Haelen had crossed a merchants path a day ago and told that the man was setting up camp for a week just outside of Tholbor before he would move on. Haelen whipped at his reigns and kicked at the ram. They began their journey.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

"Thank you. For the moment, I have everything I can think of needing." She replied. She wouldn't know more about the situation until she got a look at the gates. Not unless they had something about the gates she could study.

Which sparked an idea in her fiery topped mind.

"Actually, Master Blacklocks, do you have any legends or tales that mention the gates? Written or verbal that I can write down?" She asked with interest. "It might help if I can track down any information about the gates, I might be able to glean something of your predicament from the legends."

Haelen Blacklocks

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

"Writt'en? Nay," Haelen said as the company began to move towards the outermost limits of the town. "All tah books still beh in tha city," Haelen reflected, but he knew plenty himself about the gates. "But eh know ah bit mehself." He pulled gently at the reigns and nudged the ram closest to Valdyna. "Tah gates arh handled beh rune magic, tis how t'ey open an' close." He looks up towards the peaks where cloud cover has since moved in to conceal his view, "Tha largest gates t'is far north o' tha spine."

"One o' true kinship only need'ah place dah palm o' tha hand on tha' gate fer it tah open," he paused and looked at her, "But tis tha thing, eh am heir an' I can-nay open tah gate, no one can. Somethin' magical is blockin' eh path." The rams trotted from gravel road onto hard-packed dirt, a winding path that led into the mountains and vanished into the snow far ahead. On the horizon, fire.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

As Haelen Blacklocks began to speak, Valdyna took out a small quill and a pad of paper. She began to make notes as he spoke on the gates. She was only passingly familiar with Rune Magic, an introductory class she had audited in her first year of study at the University Arcane gave a brief overview of it. From her understanding, the magic was all in the markings for rune magic, though the price needed to be paid all the same.

"Has there ever been another time when the gates have all been sealed?" She asked, looking up from her notes. The fact that she was riding the horse while writing showed that she had grown up in the saddle a great deal, though she definitely didn't look like a ranch hand. "And are there any pieces of lore or rumor about what happened leading up to them being sealed now?"

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

Haelen stroked his beard and rested forward on the rams head, "Nay, tah gates 'ave never been sealed befor', tis noh need, Khazar were far frum war. Few armies make it out tis far." The mountains were covered in snow that was metres deep. With few trees for firewood or caves for shelter it was an inhospitable land for large parties untrained in the local landscape. An icy death sentence for an organised army on a warpath.

"Eh 'ad just returned home, meh brother Dolgan an' I 'ad been adventurin' fer many a year, drinkin', brawlin' an' fightin' across tah land." Haelen grew concerned, as though a passing realisation had just occured, a conclusion he had never considered. "Fore eh returned, ah Archmage corrupted beh dark magic 'ad said he cursed meh. Tah see mah own people die before meh." He rose from the rams head and sat upright. "Eh were back in Tholbor when tah gates closed." Haelen went on to describe in his thick accent the stories of the few that survived. Those that fled before the gates closed. They had seen the dead rise and infect those still living. A curse that spread throughout the ancient Dwarven holds as quickly as an ocean breeze. The King had ordered the gates sealed shut to prevent this curse of undeath from getting out. It was obvious that Haelen was skeptical of these stories, speaking in a manner that almost sounded like he was mocking such tales. "Eh 'ave seen tah undead before.." he finished, "I cay-not accept t'at is what 'appened."

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

A slender red brow rose above her right eye, and she looked up from her notes once more.

"How welcoming was this hold to outsiders?" She asked, her mind connecting a few dots. "Would a robed mage or a lone adventurer have been allowed within, or turned away at the gates?"

Her thoughts were that either this Archmage or a proxy of the Archmage may have been able to gain access to the hold, find the dead, and raise it to wage war on the living. Such things were possible, but the price would be truly horrific for such magic. Usually such Dark Magi were more than willing to pay that price, but the mere thought of it struck her cold.

"And did you keep your dead within the hold?"

Haelen Blacklocks

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

"We 'ad humans an' elves livin' in tha halls," Haelen would say, explaining that Khazar was a small nation but had held incredible influence in the council of Belgrath. Outsider races were welcome but being so close to The Blightlands mean't not many were willing to make the journey. Khazar overlooked the Gulf of Ryt while Tholbor nestled in the valley that the Spine formed in this region. It was closer to the Blightlands than it was to Belgrath. Isolated not only from most of the outside world but in large by their own people. War wasn't common, least of all at the gates of Khazar but skirmishes were commonplace.

"Aye we keep tah dead in tha hold," Haelen said and gestured with his hands, "T'ere kept in tha furth'ah-most districts o' Khazar, but tah kings an' princes ah kept in tah fortress o' Khazar." He would explain that despite Khazar being an underground city, the Great Gates of Khazar was only one line of defence. Khazar was a city inside a cavern of unimaginable size, allowing walls and a fortress to be built in the hollow mountain. There were a few Dwarven holds that connected to Khazar by way of underground roads but such passages had been closed, and those who remained open were Dwarven holds that had been long abandoned. The closest hold that still had a working road to Khazar was abandoned, occupied by a dragon.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Valdyna nodded thoughtfully, then spent a few minutes writing down her thoughts before closing her notepad and stowing it and her quill.

"This does not bode well for your kin, Master Blacklocks." She remarked in a soft tone, meant only to carry from her to him. She looked over at him, her face set in a grim line. "What you describe fits within the realm of possible for a powerful archmagus who did not mind paying the price for their actions. In all likelihood I will be able to break through the warding that bars the door. With each sunrise, unsustained magic wanes. The more powerful spells sometimes take days, and if the warding was tied to the magic of the gates it would explain it's enhanced longevity beyond that. Rune magic is slightly different in that it draws power from several sources, and can be sustained indefinitely. Most magi are unable or unwilling to bridge the two practices..."

She realized she was getting into the realm of babbling, and she stopped to take a deep breath. She sat straighter in the saddle and nodded.

"I will do my best to break the seals or find you another way inside. I cannot offer anything about what you may find, so you will want to be very ready for the worst possibilities."

Haelen Blacklocks​

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

A part of Haelen recoiled, unbelieving of her warning. Dwarves were known to be stubborn, Haelen even more so. Through the denial, there was a part of him that knew the rumors were true. All within the halls were dead, even his brother and father. A knowing. The closing of the Great Gates and their sealing was a signal of great distress and disaster to all other dwarves. The reason why so few remaining dwarven clans refused his call of aid. No sane dwarf wanted to open those gates.

As the woman began to speak about magic it all just seemed to have went in one ear and out the other. Haelen had spent over a century surrounded by mages and in all that time he had learn't one thing - magic is tiresome. Many magicians had a way of talking about magic like professors do with mathematics. It bored Haelen, it confused him. Pull a rabbit from a hat, great fun, but don't tell Haelen about the how. Despite his boredom with the subject he did listen attentively in futility, unlike past times this was something he should seriously consider and pay attention as she spoke. No matter how hard he tried to wrangle his head around the concept of magic there were just some things best left to the more sophisticated.

"Aye," was all Haelen could say. He was quiet for a time, contemplative. He had seen many things in his adventurers. He had lost many people along the way. He was not particularly sure if he could handle more loss. Not just of those in Khazar, but those who would help him get into Khazar. It was a dangerous journey and he knew deep in his bones this was simply the start of a long, long path.

 

[Sigfrith Runecarver]

Sigfrith rode a short stocky pony that lagged behind the other Dwarf and the mage. Part of him listened to the mage as she spoke, but Sigfrith's mind was grinding away at a different direction. He was a mage, in theory, but not really. Dwarves were not known for their skill and abilities with magic, at least not in the usual sense.

In battle, he could cast no spells to rain fireballs or lightning upon his foes. He instead had to rely on Dwarven steel, both with mail and with axe. Only the short two-headed axe revealed that aspect of his nature. His skill with the arcane was in runes, an ancient art passed over in favor of newer magics that took less time and less artistry to master.

But for a Dwarf, an art was a process of advancement, not something to be learned in a handful of years. If there were runes involved in the gates of Khazar, he would study them and learn to undo them. But beyond that, whatever lay beneath, he couldn't say.

Hopefully it was to be something that could be handled with the swift bite of an axe. For this was but the first step of the resurgence of the Dwarves. Khazar would be the first to be reclaimed and from there, the road ran to his own halls, and the dragon that slept within. That would be another step of the journey, but they would succeed or die with their honor intact. There was no other option.

Haelen Blacklocks Valdyna Weiroon

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

The silence stretched as they rode, all the while the gates of Khazar loomed large above them. The topic of their discussion seemed to grow more foreboding in her mind as their conversation lapsed into silence. The likelihood of his kins deathly state likely caused Haelen Blacklocks to fall silent in rumination. The rune mage, Sigfrith Runecarver, had remained silent for the majority of their ride thus far.

That all left Valdyna with her own thoughts. She was taking the information that had been told to her and turning it over in her mind. She was skilled, and her instructors had told her that she had a deep well of magic to draw from, but she was still a fairly novice mage. She had a few ideas for countering the locks on the gates, but if it came to a battle of mages, the archmage would likely make short work of her. She'd likely fare better if any battle between her and the archmage was without magic. Any scieon of a great house of Vel Anir was schooled in the art of combat from an early age, and the sword over her shoulder was not just decoration.

She had days to think about it, though, and as the sun slipped below the peaks to their west, the band stopped and pitched camp. Valdyna utilized her skills to help start the cook fires more quickly. Being useful helped break her out of the morose attitude she'd fallen under, and the evening looked like it would be a fine one for a night of camping.

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

Howling winds screamed through the mountains. The sun faded over the peaks above Khazar. As the last moments of sunlight flickered and vanished, the clansmen of Tholbor bowed their heads. Haelen joined them. They were remembering the fallen on their journeys. They remembered those who were inside Khazar, dead or alive. Deep down, perhaps they all knew there was nothing living inside those halls. Not anymore.

Minutes passed and the dwarves slowly raised their heads. Each of them turned to face north. The fire on the horizon had faded with the sun but a terrible cloud of smoke rose in its place. "Goblins," Eobe remarked and Haelen looked at him silently, nodding that he too believed it to be true.

The company of Dwarves set up their camp in quick order. Fires were started, tents were pitched. The rams were gathered up into a tight bunch and tied to a rocky outcropping. Nights in this part of the Spine could be terribly cold. While the dwarf folk were adapted to their habitat the other races of the world fared far worse to the climate.

The company was quiet. The crackling of fire and glass tink of tankards being refilled against a wooden keg. The youngest of the dwarf kin began to sing quietly, "Ooooooh, I am the last of the giants, my people are gone from the earth. The last of the great mountain giants, who ruled all the world at my birth." His voice rose and so did other dwarves, one by one they began to sing along.

A throaty chorus of accented dwarves sung in unison, "Oh the smallfolk have stolen my forests, they’ve stolen my rivers and hills. And the’ve built great walls through my valleys, and fished all the fish from my rills." Tankards were smacked into one another, frothy golden ale spilling into the snow and what was left in the glasses were quickly downed. "In stone halls they burn their great fires, in stone halls they forge their sharp spears. Whilst I walk alone in the mountains, with no true companion but tears."

The dwarves all gave away mock sorrow to the lines, but their cheery smiles could not hide their true moods that were aflame once more. "They hunt me with dogs in the daylight, they hunt me with torches by night. For these men who are small can never stand tall, whilst giants still walk in the light." They clapped as one and the winds did not seem so loud anymore. Some dwarves danced around the fire as others cooked and sung. Haelen walked the perimeter of the group smiling with mirth.

"Oooooooh, I am the LAST of the giants, so learn well the words of my song. For when I am gone the singing will fade, and the silence shall last long and long." The song ended and the mood of the camp had improved despite the depression of the lyrics. There was laughter and conversation now replacing the silence. Haelen sat himself beside Valdyna by the fire and motioned to Sigfrith to join them. "Eh ought'ah warn ye, t'at o'er t'ere," Haelen said and motioned to the column of black smoke on the horizon. "Might beh trouble."

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Dyna looked to where the smoke rose into the sky and nodded.

"Any idea on what type of trouble we should be expecting?" She said, pulling out a slim book from her pack and laying it on her lap.

The cover of the book was leather, and had odd runic shapes on it that did not look like the dwarven runes or rune magic runes. As her hand touched the cover, the arcane swirls glowed softly blue. Her eyes tracked back down to Haelen Blacklocks, then over to Sigfrith Runecarver.

 

[Sigfrith Runecarver]

Sigfrith was quiet as the approached the gates and paused to camp for the night. Of course, even by Dwarf standards, he was on the taciturn side. Yet when beckoned over by Haelen, Sigfrith made his way over to the other group and squinted up at the smoke that rose through the sky.

As the others sang, Sigfrith closed his eyes and leaned back slightly. The human mage joined them, asking about the smoke. Sigfrith opened one eye and peered over at her as he pulled the battle-ax from his belt and rested it across his knees. It was a solid weapon, with runes engraved into the metal.

Some were magic runes and their uses were known only to him and a few other specialists. For the most part, they were Dwarven runes and known only to other Dwarves. Such information was not the kind they would share about their native language.

"Goblins." Sigfrith growled out the word as he scraped a sharpening stone along the edge of the blade. "Filth that infest the mountains, always seeking to claim and despoil the work of our kin. Keep a sharp blade at your side while you sleep. if they catch our scent," Sigfrith's voice trailed away for a moment. "There will be bladework by dawn."

Haelen Blacklocks Valdyna Weiroon

 

[Haelen Blacklocks]

"Aye" Haelen agreed with Sigfrith, "Goblins." He took a twig from the grass, snapped it in two with his meaty hands and tossed it towards the fire. He was old, and for a warrior of his repute he was ancient. He was trained by the Iron Legion in Khazar with his brother Prince Dolgan. Together they had journeyed the world, they had meet everyone from every walk of life. From the famous sorcerer Ricardt to the notorious pirate Captain William Pitt of the Baelognor Buccaneers. There wasn't a mountain, grassland, forest or sea he hadn't seen - or so it felt. He had made so many friends in his lifetime; so why did he feel so alone? The smoke on the horizon slowly dissipated, the fire grew cold and his eyelids grew heavy. He began to snore and the loneliness followed him into his dreams.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Dyna's eyes drew back to the smoke over the horizon, and she nodded.

She let her gaze fall back to the fire before her, and unfocused her gaze as she sought what she knew about goblins. They were supposedly vicious little creatures, but Dyna hadn't met one as of yet. Apparently, she would have her chance in the near future. Nothing she could remember told of specific strengths or weaknesses. They tended to move in tribal like groups, and utilized pack tactics to begin assaults, but quickly devolved into a disorganized frenzy. They did use weapons, but would move to use teeth and claws it that was all that was left to them. They were said to like shiny things, and setting things aflame.

Dyna drew a deep breath, and saw that Haelen Blacklocks eyes were drooping. Around them, the camp was settling in, with guards at the edges of the camp in a fairly orderly fashion. They appeared alert, which she would assume was a sign of professional soldiers.

With a shrug, she settled into her bedroll, not even bothering to take her boots off. If Haelen was going to sleep, she might as well get some rest as well.

Before the goblins attacked.

Sigfrith Runecarver​

 

[Sigfrith Runecarver]

There were many who slept and others who stood guard of the camp, but Sigfrith sat wrapped in his cloak, eyes dark as he lit a pipe that smoked beneath the edge of his hood. He could not sleep, not yet, not while the mountains forming the spine of his clan's hall loomed above him.

His lands lay on the far side of the range, but still the peaks were etched in the history of his bloodline, and his bloodline had been spilled upon the flanks of those peaks, more than a clan should have ever lost. Yet now the halls of his forefathers sat empty of those who delved them, corrupted and possessed by a wyrm who desired their hoard.

And now he could feel the thrumming in the stone as the dragon shifted in its accursed sleep and the singing in his mind sang of the old songs of his clan. But that was yet to come. A dragon lay before them and Prince Haelen had his own kingdom to reclaim from a threat unknown. But if it was unknown, it could hardly be worse than a dragon.

And more importantly, there was a road beneath the mountains between the two holds. One large enough for a Dwarf, and even the tallest of the Elves to stand upright in, but not so for a dragon. It was to be their way in to see the lay of the land.
Haelen Blacklocks Valdyna Weiroon
It was upon this that he contemplated through the night, his eyes lit by the gleam of his pipe.