StoneSaga

### Prologue

The door to the tavern creaked open. The vibrant voices and hums could be heard from outside. Out stepped a man with a scruffy beard and a jolly faced, short bearded dwarf. It was a wooden tavern, on the road. However it was in Dwarf territory and thus full of Dwarfs. On one side was a long table, with a party of middle aged dwarfs singing some tavern song. On the walls appeared to be trophies, a broken hand mirror, a black helmet, each with a plaque. In the middle of the left wall, beneath the warm firelight was a painting of some hook-nosed dwarf. But in the corner, sitting on a round table, talking to some young dwarfs, was a large, bearded fellow with a long beard going down to his waist. A white one two, demanding respect from younger Dwarfs. The majority of his short body was covered by a long brown robe, but the glimmer of armor could be seen beneath. The dwarf who entered the tavern rushed to him, pulling his human friend. “Look Travis! A living ancestor!” He said. On seeing their approach, the White Beard gave a warm smile, and kindly told the little ones to scamper as he talked to these new people approaching.

“Hello young ones. What brings you to this old Dwarf? Here for a story, a saga, those for which I hear I am famous for?” The old dwarf said. The young dwarf, Rask “Rat” Rannock nodded. Travis took a seat silently. “Like those of Berdin the Bold?” Rat asked. “Ha, Berdin was a good friend of mine. Good Dwarf. His death was a tragedy...” the old Dwarf said. “But I can promise my tale would, at least hopefully equal those that are made about his. If you like tales that is. Of course, I’m not the taverns attraction. It serves fine brandy.” The old one said with a laugh.

A serving dwarf approached. The living ancestor made some hand signals, the servant nodded and left. “Well, I hope you like brandy. And Swords, Dwarfs, and adventure. Because, if you wish it, the tale shall begin, as relayed by my friend from his journal. The old dwarf said, his old voice carrying the tune of the words Still with the deep tone famous among Dwarf storytellers. A story from an old one such as him was a great treasure, and one younger dwarfs willingly accepted, and older Dwarfs excitingly Gave. And as the tavern began to go up in song, he said the first words of the story...

### Chapter 1: Our Kingdom will Fall

I missed when the tavern was full of customers. Not patients. The hum of happy Dwarfs has been replaced with the moans of the wounded, all because of the traitorous Gruntelgi, Elves. Now the hordes of Mountain-Breakers, the demon orcs from beyond have ruined our home. I heard a voice and turned around. Kazzad has tripped with a plate of medicines in his hand, on the rim of his cloak. I rushed to him and helped to pick him up. “Come on Kaz, this is important. No time to be clumsy.” He looked up at me. It was as if he was devoid of any fear most of the time. But now, he looked scared. It is a fearful time to be alive in Grimkor. The king has been missing for two days and the monsters pour in from all sides. As far as I knew he had no family, he just appeared one day. Can’t say I blame him.

I believe I could even see a few white hairs spring up in his thick, red beard. Similar to the kings really, but shorter as he, like the rest of my friends, was a young dwarf. “I’m doing my best Tato.” He said. I hated my name. Tatokraz. But I learned to live with it. The nickname Tato came from my boss, Nik Baeleybrard. Hadn’t seen him since he marched off to war with my father and uncle. Another one lost to the cause. Another good man. Sadly his skills haven’t been needed lately, what with the Pigstone tavern being turned into a hospital for the wounded. Well, actually his beer made good painkillers...I’ll have to tell the others we need to work on more beer.

I looked around at the sorry display of the room. A dwarf coughing at the bed with a wound nastier then I had ever seen. The walls had a crack in them. I almost laughed. When I was younger I thought they were the strongest in the world. But, I thought our keep would never be attacked. And the elves would never betray us. “When’s the end of our shift?” Kaz said. “No end for a while Kaz. If the beasts win the battle at the gates now we’re done for. Thus, we need to work twice as quick and twice the quality so they can take our meads and patients to the front lines.” Kaz knew this. He was fingering the ruby locket on his neck, supposedly a gift from his father. A father I didn’t know, I’d never met him, but for poor Kaz...his father could he dead fighting Orcs right now. My poor friend did deserve some time off. He’d been worked a lot since the war began.

“The others?” He said. “In the basement brewing.” I replied solemnly. I heard a movement and rushed to one of the patients. I recognised him, a baker. I had asked every man here for news on my father but had her far received none. Every time I asked this man had a look in his eyes like he knew. If only he could speak with a broken jaw like that. He looked at me with his piercing, old eyes. It wasn’t long until he took his last breath. I hated this job. I hate all this death.

We worked at it for a while, couple hours, until we heard a terrible crack. Our friends rushed out of the basement and into the top floor to see what it was. “What was it?” Maellin, our warrior and poet asked. “Be dammed if I know. I hope it’s not the gate...” Kaz spoke with a voice shaking with fear. Very odd from him. The tavern door burst open. A stoic Dwarf, fresh from the fight stepped out. “The last gate is lost. This hall is undefended. We need to leave. Now! Take everybody you can through the passage, and save yourselves!” He said. My friends and I looked at each other. Behind the counter was a hidden door to sneak outside. To the Elven woods border...but at least it was a little safer. “What of the patients?” Maellin asked.

“Well, I doubt any self respecting dwarf would take the cowards way out and do the Demons Bottle. Right?” The messenger said, to affirming looks or movements or whatever they could do from the patients. All the patients, if they had eyes, shared a look with each their. One, with only one eye to call his own and a destroyed left arm stood up, and with his right grabbed his sword by the bed. “I think....we need to go out like real Dwarfs...wounded or not, it’s who we are. You shortbeards need to get out of here and avenge us.” He said. His death wish and determination shocked me. Such courage...something to aspire to. For most of them there was no escape, and his raspy voice showed if his wounds wouldn’t kill him, some sickness would anyways. All of the patients shared his sentiment and gave a cheer.

The messenger ran out to warn more. Another friend of mine, the runecraft apprentice Razel started to work at the passage. Meanwhile the rest of us armed the patients with whatever we could, even the bedridden would go down chopping and kill as many Orcs as they could. Their eyes were made of steel, like any veteran of the recent conflicts. A steel forged in the fires of war, crafted with determination strength and honor. We finished both duties. I quickly packed my backpack with everything I could carry. Clothes, food, trinkets. I placed a helmet on my head and my fathers axe on my side. “Hurry! We don’t have time!” Razel half yelled urgently.

I took one last look at these brave old Dwarfs. The one eyed one saluted me. I turned around, sealed the passage and followed my friends as fast as my short Dwarfen legs could carry me. By the gods it was long. It reeked of rat, it’s walls of a cold grey stone. No heat to speak of iin the tunnel. All of us scared out of our minds. Our hold had certainly fallen. The patients would die. We were lost and heading into the land of the traitors with nothing but the packs on our backs and the gear we took with us, some of it the last we had of our families. By the gods, how could it get any worse?

It was a very happy moment when we left. Green fields leading into a beautiful, glowing forest with a inviting dirt trail....a first of traitors. The field was short, a mere ring around the passages exit. As soon as we were out. The one in front of us, Raz, fell to his knees and burst into tears. We all did the same. After this, we had a mental agreement right then with ourselves, there would be no more sorrow. It is the Dwarf way. But...a man has a right to express his loss at losing as much as we did. And for what felt like a hour I wept as hard as the rest of them, gripping into a grassy boulder.

It was interrupted by a loud crack, and possibly a scream. A stone tower that had watched from the top of the mountain since my childhood fell, and with a great boom hit the ground beneath the mountain, causing dust to flow in all directions. Maellin stared at it in horror, at the verge of tears then stopped as if he remembered our unspoken pact. He took his hat off, and looked down at the ground. Solemnly, he said, “Pop was stationed there.” We each did as he did and put our hats down in respect. Family was the most important thing in our society. Something that all of us had lost. No clan, no keep, and little gold. The eyes of the mountains looked down on us. But they were no longer our mountains.

But then a whisper was heard. A whisper kept up by us all. A oath of vengeance. On the oath breaking elves, on the barbaric orcs who took our land. We would have our revenge. But for now, there was no where to go but forward. Further into the forest. Larthelorn. We may be the first dwarfs to enter till they sold out our secret entrances to the Orcs for safety. First or not, we would get out of there as soon as possible. Lingering in hostile lands is never what we would call a profitable idea. So, with me in the lead. We took step after step on the dirt path and into the woods.

Elf woods are dangerous. That is not to say they are not beautiful. The leaves seemed to shine as yellow dew dropped off of some of them. We walked the path which followed the edge of the forest. The trees at our sides seemed to curve to form a canvas over the road, a roof to protect us. You couldn’t even see the sky. We didn’t know where we were going, we simply trusted in the safety of the passage and that it would deliver us outside the forest. We all hoped it wasn’t a path to the elves, as they used to buy drinks. But if we went to them now we would be captured and taken to the Orcs.

“So...Tato. Anything to talk about?” Raz said. His runesmith apprentice hat was put on incorrectly. But I understood, we were all too focused on the task. And at least his cloak was in straight. “Well, I do.” Kaz spoke up. Our hold is lost. We need revenge. What are we going to do about it?” He said. “Well, collect Dwarfs from other holds. Make an army, maybe grab some humans from Kalurin. Then we take back the hold!” He said. “Bold words from a short beard like you, mate. I share your sentiment but we have barely learned our crafts and can barely use weapons. We have no chance.” I replied.

He looked at me and like the patients back in the mountain his eyes were devoid of fear. They seemed to be full of vengeance. Like any dwarf, in his rage he tugged at his beard. “That doesn’t matter. On the journey we shall learn the craft of war. We shall inspire them through words, they will take up arms to reclaim the hold. And if they don’t, Kazad damn there souls! It is the duty of any good being on this world to uphold the realms of justice! Or else those Orcs will come for them next, and they shouldn’t expect any help. As soon as we get out of this forest we shall go to the Warrior Keep, and rally it’s armies to retake the hold!”

Our other friends clapped a little. “I couldn’t agree more...” I spoke with almost a whisper. It had been encouraging, and spoken from the heart. Maellin fiddled with his backpack, and pulled out a lutter. It’s a lot like a Lite but covers deeper notes. He began to strum a few notes of a song, and we hummed it. His quiet yet deep voice began to speak some of the lyrics. “Our kingdom will fall...if you don’t believe....our fates will come true...the shadows fall....” nobody knew its origin, but we had known the song forever. We assumed it was about the End Days. But our kingdom had fallen. He altered some of the lyrics, and singing about the fall of our kingdom heartened us. It’s memory shall guide us on.

We began to feel uncomfortable. After stopping to eat in a circle of stones we felt like we were being watched. Certainly some Gruntelgi had found us. “Halt. Check the nearby area, I sense elves.” Kaz said. We spread out a little, I checked the trees to the left with my axe in hand. I swear I saw something dart between the bushes. I heard a yell, and turned around quickly, allowing a Elf to jump at me from the bushes. A knife thankfully glazed off my armor. I turned around, and it jumped off my back. I swung a little with my axe.

This time I was quicker! I heard footsteps at my side and swung almost without looking, and was met with a crunch, a bloody crunch of bone. I felt something wet hit my arm. When my whole body turned around I saw a tall, blond haired elf clutching his bloody stomach. He began, “You weren’t suppose to do that-“ but was cut short by me finishing him off by plunging the axe through his wrist and deeper into him. He was foolish for dropping his weapon and putting his arm over his stomach. He quickly toppled to the ground. I continued to find my friends.

Kaz was next to a dead elf, Raz and Maellin were being overpowered by four elves. Kaz and I looked at each other and charged them from behind. It was quick and bloody, we realised there were only six corpses when there should have been 7. One of the four had just escaped. Great. Well, we needed to hurry. “We must take haste to leave. Now they may be searching for us! And, being elves, likely find us.” I said. The others nodded. We took a look at the elf corpses. Took some change and knives. There faces...so cold. Glazed eyes. I had never killed someone before. I felt less guilty then I expected. We refitted our backpacks, returned to the road and ran as fast as we could without getting too tired.

### Chapter 2: On the Dirt Trail

We had finally stopped to sleep. It was as if the road lasted forever. We were taking shifts to keep watch and it was my turn. I looked at my comrades in little sacks. I looked at myself. My clothes were covered with mud and leaves due to Raz bright idea we could use camouflage. Nobody had the brain to point out the fact that elves could still figure it out, and we had to beat another ambush. I could’ve believe we were able to take them, surely the gods were looking out for us.

It sure was a blessing Dwarfs were so resilient. We could carry those packs for days on end, or March for hours without a sweat. Born from stone, hearts of steel. I heard movement in the trees and readied a stolen elf crossbow. Though they were taller then us they were thinner and Lithe, so there crossbows were a little odd in my hands. I couldn’t place it but it was off. I aimed it to where I heard noise. Now, even if I wanted to shoot a elf I couldn’t do a thing in the woods with it’s own crossbow, so honestly I’d do better just holding my axe up. Thankfully it was just a rabbit. I shot it. The arrow blew on a lucky wind into its eye.

What a time we’re in. From living in a Dwarf Empire to me picking up the dead corpse of a rabbit shot with the bow of traitors. I can’t believe the elves sold us out. And for what, to save there own weak and pale hides? Cowards all. Maellin...he’s to trusting. He felt worse then any of us for killing Elves. He said there not all bad. Well, I’ve met some good elves to. But ain’t one of them I’ve seen here has had any trouble attempting to kill us. Killing...killing was easy. Maybe to easy. I thought I would feel more revolted. But it felt right. I felt no shame.

I took a few swings with my axe until I heard a crunch in the leaves. A Elf stumbled out of the bushes clutching his red stomach. He had no weapons. I woke the others quickly with a shout, they all picked up weapons and shields and surrounded the silent elf. “Help me...wounded innocent...” for a second I believed perhaps he was a good elf after all. But then I saw elf eyes in the bushes and the glimmer of silver on the moon. “Sneak!” I yelled. Jumped up as high as my dwarf legs could carry me, and disemboweled him straight though his arm, which well to the ground....that arm had been clutching a hidden knife. A cluster of arrows descended on us but were blocked by shields.

By all means Dwarfs facing odds like we did should be dead. But a cornered dwarf is the most dangerous. Using my shield as cover I rushed into the bushes. I threw by axe ahead of me, a very risky move but it was rewarded as a tall elf fell to his knees. I pulled out my axe with a sickening noise and kicked his body out of the way, before turning on the other elves who barely had time to draw daggers. Soon they were all dead. “By the gods...they won’t stop. We need to move. Now.” Kaz said. I agreed. We quickly packed up camp, took our bags, and ran through the woods once more. We needed to get out no matter what.

We finally made it out. The green fields of Passedel greeted us. We had come out on the other side of the forest....a vast distance away....and we didn’t travel that far. That forest much have some odd magic. Anyways the field was a welcome sight, with nary a tree in vision save those behind us. Random stones dotted the plains. These belonged to less of a country, more of a...people. The fields of Passedel were like a independent collection of farming families who gather at the main city of Tradel. We let out a cheer. Finally out of the traitors territory. Kaz looked back at it with a grim look. He took the torch we had been using to guide us, and with a mighty throw launched it into the forest. It was a magical one so the flame was weakened...but had a little blaze. Serves the elves right...gods, I’ve changed.

“The road goes ever on, shall we rise to meet it?” Kaz turned around as if nothing had happened. “Yes. Let’s go! Baraz!” Raz yelled in reply. Maellin and I followed. Surely there would be some kind of human in ahead in which we can finally get a proper rest, and tell a few stories. Or better yet, hear them. “What I wouldn’t give for a glass of Bards best...” Maellin said, almost a whisper. “Say Maellin, if I didn’t know better, I’d say our beards have grown. In size and in uncleanliness. And like any group of shortbeards, we stopped for a moment and admired each other’s beards and our own. “Like proper men!” Raz proclaimed. “Yes...one day soon Raz. One day soon. Maybe at our next stop you can practice your runes again.” Kaz said to him as he patted him on the shoulder. Raz looked exited.

I looked at my axe. It was covered in blood. “First...I suggest we go find a stream. Our weapons are bloodied.” I said. They nodded. We walked a little in the fields, entering some area of farmland we walked through with the dirt path. We found a stream by a field of bright wheat, and kneeled beside it. We set up a campfire with some bark found on the ground and a lighter. We used it to boil the water, and in the water we washed our weapons and some clothes. They sharpened there weapons, but mine didn’t need this. My axe never dulled due to a simple rune. Eventually Raz could learn it and we’d all have blades that cannot be blunted.

I drunk. Hope the owner of the farm wouldn’t mind. Maellin began to strum his instrument before he was stopped by the look in Kaz face. Kaz looked like he had forgotten something important. “Guys...we traveled here very quickly through that path. The elves own it. Meaning the Orcs can access it...meaning Orcs can use it to get to this area and raze it! We need to stop it!” He said. We all looked at him, startled. “Yes...I have a mighty grudge on those oath breakers. Even worse then the Orcs, for they have a mind that goes beyond battle but chose to betray us...but how do we do it?”

“Well, elves get there magic from Great Oaks...that large forest is bound to have one. We destroy it, the forest magic died and the elves magic weakens. The elves of that forest though. What are they called, gladeborn?” Maellin said. I was a little surprised he thought of that. “That would be a big move...but I suppose they deserve it...I have ideas.” Raz proclaimed. “Go on buddy. No judgment from your friends.” I encouraged him while patting him on the back.

“Wizards! The Flame Lords of Inverbeeth. They have a gem that works every hundred years to magnify there power! It could help them take it down and I think it’s been a hundred years since it was last used! We could find them!” He said excitedly. “I’ve never heard of half of that. Since when did you study human Magics?” Maellin said. “Well, to be a good runesmith, I need to study the magic of others. They are a interesting lot. Hey, did you know they forged the gem out of-“ Raz was cut off by Kaz. “I’m sure it’s interesting but it’s a story for another time.” He spoke, wiping a ember off his beard. It was good fun to sit around a fire together.

I heard a shuffling from Maellin as he stuck his hand in his bag. “Night approaches, and the mob reflects in the water. I brought a surprise from the tavern.” He pulled out a couple small barrels of beer. Miniature barrels were popular, normally attached to the bottom of backpacks, his had a special couple slots for them. He took one and poured it into some wooden cups. “Thanks a lot mate...I could really use this stuff.” Kaz proclaimed after downing a mighty gulp. “Well don’t drink it all now. It’s limited.” Marlin said after a drink of his own. I, with cup in hand took our my sleeping sack and keyed it out in the grass. We were in the edge of the field so I took some loose to pad the bottom.

“Stories anyone?” Maellin asked. “I thought stories were your thing!” I replied. I had begun admiring my axe. “I’m afraid my mind is to burdened for all but the simplest of rhymes. Anybody have a book?” Maellin spoke once again. Raz silently handed him a book on history of those fire wizards from his bag. Maellin nodded in appreciation and opened it. Kaz looked lost in thought. He seemed to be a natural leader, Kaz. It would be nice to have met his parents. Or not. More people we would care about losing. It hit me like a hammer then...so much loss. I miss my mother...I miss my father.

Maellin strummed some simple tunes. After a few hours of talking into the night I got into my sack and tried to rest. The warmth of the fire was a big help against the cold night. Though I wasn’t scared, I put my axe right next to my bed. Just in case. There were likely bandits out here, robbing crops and I had begun to enjoy a good fight. If they are brave enough, let them come. We may be young dwarfs, but were strong enough to get out of a elf forest unharmed! Thoughts of battle and pride filled my head as I drifted off to a silent sleep. After a prayer to Mijolna.

*At the Tavern*

The old dwarf chuckled as he relayed what were surely treasured memories, leaving the young one enraptured in his tale. Travis was enraptured in something else, mainly the women of the tavern. He saw one of the taverns servant women being harassed by a customer and quietly got up and walked over. The old one didn’t notice. He was to enraptured in the memory of his own tale to notice the mundane happenings of the tavern. “Truly a sad tale...I hope it gets better.” The young dwarf said to the old. “It does...it does...all things do with time and the blessing of the ancestors. And hopefully, this tale shall also grow in its enjoyment.” The old dwarf said, also punctuated with a chuckle.

### Chapter 3: Farm Towns and Fire Mages

I woke up to the dawns light. The sky looked huge, the sun was bright in compassion to the darkness and closed nature of the woods. Under another time those woods may have looked beautiful and inviting, but to us they looked dark and hostile. I sat up and waited for the others. It’s been a while since I cleaned myself, last time it happened was in a stream in the woods. We would need to once we got to the inn. Find some wizard to cast a spell of cleaning. Truly, housemages were the best Mages.

I waited for the others to wake up. Maellin had, evidently been the last to fall asleep, reading the book given to him by Raz. I was exhausted. Maybe I should go back to sleep...and I began to crawl back into bed...but couldn’t as it was interrupted by noises from behind me. Kaz had woken up. “Morning Tato!” He said. “Hey Kaz. Took you long enough.” I replied, a little grumpy from not being allowed to continue sleep. I needed a lot you know, after all that time in the woods. “Save that sentiment for when the others wake up. Breakfast?” He asked. “Nope. I can only hope one of them had it.” I replied, looking through my bag for food and coming up empty handed.

In time the others awoke to much grumbling and groaning, especially from Maellin. “Nobody has food?” He asked. He wasn’t overweight, but he was always a little plumper then the rest of us. Though if lessened with how little we had been eating. “None. We’re going to need to find a tavern fast.” Kaz replied. I got up and signaled for the others to do the same. They did so, with some difficulty. Exhaustion was starting to set in, and soreness from our previous works was hitting hard. And not just in them, in me as well.

Without words we walked towards what we thought was the start of the village, some rickety, poorly built wood houses. We were right and ended up in a village center. A majority of them in the center looked like well built farm houses of various degrees of luxuries, stores, a tavern, and in the center a large tower, that looked like it was formally some kind of windmill. A large sign in front of it said “Town Hall.” But what we, and any respectable dwarf was interested in was the tavern. “Oh...while we’re here we need to alert the mayor of the crisis of the Dwarfs and the soon to come forest invasion. Maybe he could help us.” Kaz proclaimed with a commanding air.

We walked through the streets, earning some odd looks from the humans. They rarely saw Dwarfs like us in these lands. No matter. We continued to the tavern and opened up a creaky door. It certainly wasn’t as vibrant as a Dwarf tavern. Being the morning I’m sure most of its customers were asleep as it was mostly empty. I hoped they sold beer in the morning. Or food in general. Though a Dwarf can live off beer. We walked up to the front desk. The wood was a weird grey on the inside, a natural grey. Not colored. This was odd because the outside was brown, must be some weird tree type. I never liked trees anyways.

I ordered some mead for everybody and some bread and cheese. The barkeep had a funny accent...a piece of these parts I suppose. We sat around a table together. I began to notice how dirty everybody looked. Seeing the tavern was mostly empty, Maellin took out his instrument. “Any suggestions?” He asked. “Half-mans wife! Half mans wife!” Raz said. Kaz opted for “Bigshield blows.” “Ha...I’ll have to pick then. Ooh, cheese!” He said as he went for the bread and cheese and made a sandwich.

“Humans...humans...odd seeing all these humans tending to farms. Nobody lives inside a mountain! How can they stand it?” Raz said. “Well, Raz, we’ve been outside mountains for quite a while, eh? We made it.” Kaz replied. “And look at the mess were in...we quickly clean up then leave to some new land. I’m begging to miss the forest. I want something to fight.” Raz replied. A little odd from him. We finished breakfast and left. He had gotten us to look for some kind of magic store. There was, of course, nothing of the sort here in this little farm village. We had paid for baths and were finally clean! Thus, we prepared to set out again. Here the dirt path ended. With nothing but a new map our real journey began...”Wait...guys. We need new gear.” I said. “How do we get gear without any money?” Kaz replied. “Spent it all eating.” He finished with a smile.

“Well...were broke then. Gonna be hard to make the journey...”Maellin said. We nodded. “Then its best to start now.” I said this as I took my first step out into the grassy plains behind. By the gods it would be a long journey. Not even a path to follow...and all for the small chance the wizards would help us. We had to hope they were even interested in aiding the town. Who knows, maybe they had a liking for elves. Whatever the case it was decided now...and dwarfs are to stubborn to change it.

We walked out in the fields, flanked on both sides by farms. We walked about a mile. While walking at the edge of one of the outer fields, we stopped and shot us a deer. We cooked it, ate it, and moved on. We marched for another three hours. We looked behind us....we couldn’t see anything of what we left behind. Near us there was open fields, a few houses, farms, and every once and a while a small patch of trees. The map said we had at least another day of walking. “Raz...when we approach the Mages land...what exactly do we look for?” I asked.

“A tower sticking out of a mountain!” He said. Any type of mountain would be a welcome sight. Even hearing the word made me miss my home dearly. Everybody already looked exhausted...but wouldn’t give up. We had become expert travelers by now, meaning that we had the endurance to just keep on marching. “You know, this would be better if we had a horse.” Maellin said. “Well, it sure would be nice if we had money enough to pay for one. And otherwise, Horses aren’t a dwarf thing. We walk and we’re good at it.” I said. I had become tired of the above ground. I just wanted to make a tunnel and sleep.

After a few more hours we settled by a campfire in the shade of a tree, in a hilly area. It was warm, so I put my hands near it as Maellin strummed his instrument. Kaz was roasting rabbits on a stick above the fire with a stick. I had already eaten mine but he waited to make sure everybody else had had a meal before going for his. Back at home we would never have to eat like this. Our mothers cooked the best of meals. And I didn’t appreciate them.

One day we were crossing the road and saw a band of elves approach in a caravan. We drew our weapons and stopped. There caravan didn’t run us over and thus stopped in front of us, the two main elves stepping off. “Dwarfs...out of our way. We need to get to the next town.” One said. “Grunts! From which town do you Gruntelgi come from?” Kaz asked, certainly seeing if they were from that kingdom which betrayed us. “None of tour business. We’re not hostile, are we?” He said. Kaz gestured and we parted to let them through. “Went better then I expected.” I said. “Well, there not all bad.” Replied Raz. “I dunno if you’d called them good either. Those stuck up grunts..” Maellin mumbled.

We eventually camped by another stream and fell asleep. Like any other night. Travel was to repetitive, nothing like a warm day at your own home, after work of course, able to do what you like and like what you do. On the road you could say your more free, but certainly obliged to walk all day to whatever destination you chose. I slept peacefully. For the time being, at least, on my cot. After so long I would need a new one. In fact, we could all use new gear. If only we had money.

### Chapter 4: Trolls in the Hills!

The rolling green hills of the country were a welcome sight to the weary traveler, the farmer, the trader and the warrior. Food abounded, as did adventure and animal life out in these resource rich wilds. However, it is not advised to camp in one at night. Hidden within the rolling hills are caves, and in the caves lie fiercer beasts...beasts called Trolls. And, as a seasoned traveler of this part would know, these hills trolls only came out at night. This made camping on the hills a dangerous endeavor, unless you are armed.

A troll was a odd being. These hill trolls only came out at night. They were a damp green like the hills. These were think and lanky, four fingers and four tolls, tusks on the sides of there mouths and odd shaped, skinny heads. Some bald, some not, with hair in a messy mop or in a braid of some sort. They had painted themselves with blood and other such things, which were arranged in primitive patterns on there bodies. Three skunk through the night until they saw a fire.

Primitive, small troll eyes squinted at the fire. They hated fires. They hated fire makers. And they were hungry. With deadly grace despite there large size they slump toward the camp where our tired dwarfs were heavily asleep...and the tallest, his whole face decorated in there favorite red paint, took a small log and knocked it over the head of one of the dwarfs, who would happen to be Kaz. One jumped up. He had a odd pair of goggles on, and a black beard braided with leather in lack of gold with odd symbols on it. This was Razel. He quickly picked up a little hammer next To his roll, yelled to wake the others, and charged. A bold move. He barely had time to smash it into a trolls leg before he to was knocked out. A troll was big for a elf, for a Dwarf even more so.

I woke up, and looked over at Maellin who had to. He had regained some of his lost wait and the trolls eyed him hungrily. He realized this. I charged with my axe and he did the same. No time to strap on the shield. I carved into the first trolls leg, releasing a spray of blood. Trolls regenerated, but not fast enough for that to instantly Heal. He screamed and stumbled back, but as I readied myself for another blow with my axe I met the same fate as the others, and could only assume Marlin did to shortly after.

“Oi.” A spit filled, deep troll voice said and I was awoken inside of a filthy sack. My armor was still on. Our weapons and items were stacked in a pile quite crudely, on a stone floor covered with grime. I looked out. The entrance was on the side of a hill, and trolls sat around a simple fire. I saw the rest of my comrades in similar, equally thirty sacks around me. The tall troll who had spoken walked over to us and addressed his brothers, two equally ugly large nosed fiends. “Wich one o’ dees do you sugest we et furst?” He said.

They motioned towards the largest sack...poor Maelin. They grabbed the top of his long dirty hair and pulled him out, producing a odd yelp. “Wait! Wait! Don’t eat me!” He said. The trolls laughed and replied, “Why not?” “Simple! I play that instrument! I can play music for you instead. Music so good, it can fill your bellies!” Now trolls weren’t smart beings. And there group of trolls, meaning hill trolls, believed some songs had magical properties. So when he said that they believed him. “Oi...one of dem magik songs. Go ahed.” The tall one said and dropped him hard on the cold stone floor. Maelin scrambled for his instrument and dug Into the pile to find it, procuring the slightly dented instrument.

And with effort as he was in pain, he hopped on one of the logs around the fire with our hopeful eyes watching him. That idiot, I thought. He only prolonged our suffering. He glanced at his audience. The wounded Trolls already appeared to be healing. He looked at the eager eyes of the trolls and gave his instrument a testing strum, smiled, and sang. “Stones are good but hills are better! In the hills the waters wetter!” One of those short, idiotic troll tunes he must have studied. The trolls sing it along with him in there terrible accents for quite some time. They didn’t even realize he had already repeated it ten times two hours later. I saw him get more and more tired, his eyes sunk, his mouth struggling to speak after all the exhaustion. Some of my friends had fallen asleep in there sacks. I sent a quick prayer to the gods that I would make it out of tonight alive. That any kind of salvation would come to us undeserving Dwarfs before we were eaten.

Maellin began to tire and the trolls looked even hungrier. One began to reach his hand down to pick of Maellin behind his back...but then a fireball from outside the cave zoomed through the darkness, illuminating the troll surprised faces, and slammed that hungry one who foolishly reached for Maelin. That troll stumbled backwards with a roar. A shadow ran across the cave, and cut off the ties that locked us in our sacks. I could see more then a human in the dark due to being a Dwarf...and I believed I saw Knife-Ears.

I swore a mighty curse...we had forever been shamed. Saved by a useless Gruntelgi. My comrades and I jumped out with a roar and ran to our weapons. A troll swooped his hand and stopped the shadowy figure in his tracks, slamming him against the wall. My dwarf brothers and I charged...hoping it would go better then last time. We rushed the first troll at once, he had been weakened by fire, and was cut to one knee. I jumped onto his knee, and from that point mightily swung my axe, throwing his head across the cave. I jumped off the body as it collapsed and slammed my axe into a trolls shoulder before I fell, hanging on it.

The troll roared and swatted me away, my axe still in its shoulder. The root of flame was heard and the elf had shot a bolt of fire at it, scoring a direct his in its eye, burning the greedy thing out. This produced a great roar from the troll, as surely it’s brain itself was being boiled. There was one last trolls, and he picked up a large club made out of a log. Kaz charged him with a battle cry, but was bashed into the wall by the log. The troll ran towards him to beat him more with his log, but was stopped by Raz putting a dagger into his leg.

With a sickening noise of tearing flesh I tore my axe out of the dead trolls shoulder and ran to the living. I held it up high, and with a swing fueled by all my power, cut it’s leg off at the joint. The grass outside seemed to be pushed as if by a breeze by the power of the roar of pain. Dark red troll blood was everywhere. The troll heads absent eyes gazed at me from the floor. We were all panting, bloodied weapons still in hand, and we looked at the elf laying on the floor, panting as well. “Well boys, we have a Gruntelgi on our hands.” Kaz said, sounding a little murderous.

The skinny, tall, long haired elf raised his hand. “I mean no harm. Or I would have let them kill you.” He spoke, and even in the unlit darkness I swore I could see a smirk on his face. “We could have escaped...” Kaz mumbled. “Well, thank you for your help!” Maellin said, with genuine gratefulness. As you may have realized I’m not that much of a talker. But I was a little implied to thank the hero, elf or no elf. “Why was a elf like you in the hills?” Raz asked suspiciously. “I could ask the same of you crouchers. This elf is out here, so he doesn’t have to be with the elves out there.” He said, pointing in the direction of those cursed forests.

There is no easy word for thank you in our language. But there was in commonspeak, which we had used since leaving our mountain. And I was close to thanking him in that. “So your from the forest...” Kaz said, lowering his hand to the hammer now safely tied to his waist. Maellin silently pulled out some Stoff, a hard cheese, from his pocket and ate some. “I want to have nothing to do with that kingdom. They are bought but cowards. I am here to warn the other elven lands of the orc hordes.”

He seemed to have noticed Kaz hand. Kaz fought his gaze and removed it. A idea started to form in my head. “Then you surely know of the magic of those woods. That magic which speeds travel.” I said. He nodded. “Meaning Orcs can quickly arrive here. We are on a mission to stop that.” I finished. “And how so? Not even a army of dwarfs could invade that forest, much less you four.” He said. He took down his hood and long white hair fell out, but to the dwarfs disappointment he revealed no beard of any sort.

Raz had began messing with the troll corpses. He had a little vial and squeezed troll blood out of the decapitated head into it. It was red, but a little pale and green. He smiles, took out another vial, and continued. He heard where our conversation was heading and jumped up. “Fire Mages! We’re going to find there tower, the Flame Lords of Inverbeeth! We can use there firegem to harness the flame, and destroy the elf’s great oak!” He said with a cry and a somewhat mad smile on his face. The elf looked a little taken aback.

The elf’s mind was deep in thought. Burning a forest and stopping the magic of so many elf’s...a terrible thought. But oaks could be regrown...and then his mind wen to a get darker place. A place of primal rage those traitor elf’s had blocked out. Orcs. Beast defiled the forest. Beasts that had already defiled the oak more then any flame can. Do elf’s who would allow such monsters deserve anything less then the warmth of the torch? Those beast all deserved to be purged, and the traitors with them!

“Interesting thought...I shall join you. If I am allowed to. As you can see, I am a wizard of some power, and shall put this power to service of yours, of our mission if I am so allowed.” He said with a polite bow. Kaz looked like he was about to refuse but Maelin, still chewing, nudged him. I watched with great interest. “First. We deserve to know your name.” Kaz said. The elf looked up to the ceiling, curiously like he had forgotten. “Leeth. Just call me Leeth.” He said. Kaz nodded, finding this agreeable.

### Chapter 5: Inverbeeth

Together we camped outside atop a hill, a day after we had that run in with trolls. We slept in the cave then marched on. We hadn’t had much issues save a few wild beast. The elf proofed his worth...as a expert firelighter. He could shoot a little flame out of his finger and we had a fire! Raz bounced around happily with some cheese, and his vials. He seemed to be mixing some together. I warmed my hands by the fire with Maellin. The elf and Kaz were talking quietly to each other.

Kaz didn’t like the elf. After the whole day he still lacked trust. I did to. Just some dirty elf. Probably trying to trick is anyways, to find out mission and sabotage it. Just like an elf. Maybe I could tell the others of this idea and save our lives. It used magic anyways. Magic isn’t trustworthy. Runes are the true craft for any dwarf, not waving your hands around to cast some volatile spell that is half as likely to blow up in your face.

I journeyed deeper and deeper into the black realms of thought. We were shamed, weren’t we? Since the elves first sold us out we had been on a path of shame. No gold, no hold of clan. And we looked for the help of humans. Human wizards! A better dwarf then us would become a Exile-Warrior already. But we had a mission. And what could be nobler? A quest to restore the hold. Nothing could be a greater aspiration then that. We were on the path of glory! Or shame. Or both. We’re we even on a path at all? I miss the dirt trail.

Thoughts raced through my head. Annoyed, I silenced them and stared into the distance. Calm, dark oak trees were ahead of us. And my dwarf eyes behold that sight which gives a dwarf more comfort then any other, a mountain. And it was in this mountain that Inverbeeth could be found. “Raz. How many days do you reckon till we arrive?” I asked him. “Just one more after this! Halfway through the day we’ll be crossing into a more populated area as well. Then as it nears the mountain it becomes more desolate.” He said, in his common way adding more facts then I asked for.

The moon lowered on a admittedly stunning horizon. I thanked Raz and laid down. A advantage of being outside a hold, perhaps the only one, was the horizon. I stuffed some cheese into my mouth. I was laying against a lot around the fire. It was a hour after sunset, and a good enough time as any to me for going to bed. Tucking my head into a self made pillow, my helmet stuffed with whatever soft things I could find, I drifted off into the realm of dreams.

I could see my father, no, I was my father. I was one in a group of many, clothed in ancestral armor. I looked to the horizon and saw only endless Orcs approaching me. I looked behind me and saw the bared gate protecting the wall where I myself was, in the tavern. But now I was in the place of my father by some divine joke. In looked to the advancing horde. Filthy. Brown. Pig faced. Orcs! And in front of them were more despicable creatures, short little goblin wretches. They clashed against dwarf shields, weak and useless for anything but tiring out arms. No, my fathers arms. I had no control over the events of my dream.

I watched the battle unfold for many minutes. Even in sleep I feel as if I was crying as I saw the fates of many friends. Raz father went down with a arrow...a unfair fall for a noble man. Elf’s rushed in with the Orcs, scimitars reaping a roll amongst good dwarfs. I was comforted to see my father slay his fair share. The dwarf walls were crumbling. A giant approached. And a giant orc. A hideous beast wearing armor stained in dwarf blood, roaring a challenge. I heard my father say one prayer to the gods, and believe I heard my name. Then he charged the giant orc, leaped at him with axe in hand...and I saw no more. Only heard the sounds of violence. And woke up with a start.

Sweat formed in my brow. It was morning and in the night I had felt fear. Father was dead, this I knew, but seeing it added a new source of finality unwelcome to me. He really was dead. And the ancestor gods had graced me with this chance to see him again. I should be grateful, not shaking with fear. Not quaking in my sleep sack. I willed myself to stand, and quickly sat down on the log behind me and looked back into the horizon. The sun is so beautiful in the break of morning.

“Get up!” I shouted. It’s the way we woke each other up every morning. The elf, Leeth, swiftly sat up, evidently already awake. With a grumble the rest of the Dwarfs sat up. “Come on lads, more travel awaits us.” I said. There was further grumbling. “How about we take the day off?” Maellin suggested, as he had every day of the trip. “Your answer is the same as always, Maellin.” Kaz said. Kaz was sort of our leader. I don’t know why, he just has a air of command. On his lead we slowly cleaned up the camp, and even the elf did his part.

We had came across a odd, dark oak sign with symbols written on it and a arrow pointing forward. The elf expected it. “Inver Spistok ahe. Mount Spinerock ahead. Our destination. And beneath that it mentioned a upcoming town. Ready yourselves, we may have to deal with some other living beings.” Our elf said. We walked more. As we needed the town we saw men with strange helmets, domed but with large rectangular nasal piece. Many had dirty brown beards, and from what we heard spoke in deep voices. The terrain was pretty. Dark and brown oaks towering above green fields. The town itself was made of the dark oak arranged like viking longhouses, the largest in the center. We went right through the town, but not without inspecting it. If we had fully known the language we would have stayed longer.

The town was called Invershade. It was a little town of Inverak, a small kingdom containing that mountain, and surrounding towns. It was a little backwards, but had feared warrior traditions. Only the gods know why wizards divided to set there gear up here. I was glad to leave the town. Something about finding another dirt road is just so exiting to me now.

Drinking while walking is a odd experience. And going over hills doing it is offer. We were nearing the tower. Already we believed we could hear it’s noises. We had passed by towns long ago. Odd little collections of shacks, some selling magical supplies. We had purchased some tune stones for Raz with money found on the trip. It has gotten warmer as we needed the mountain. We were about a mile away and I took a good look. About a mile up the mountain was the tower. A mountain without snow, a tower with a odd circular roof with some kind of glowing orb on top of it. Behind it I believe is Inverbeeth, Mountain Town in the Inverk Language.

We walked more until we came to paved stairs. Stairs! Stone carved stairs leading up the mountain side. We went up them and came to a flat on the side of the mountain, and on the far end of the flat was the tower! We had found it! We cheered. The elf kind of just stood there. Raz called to announce are arrival and a wizard came over. Short, large royal red robes, hair sticking out like a fire on his beard and head. “Hello! Welcome to the tower! What magical endeavors can we assist you fair travelers with this fine Autogtag?” He said in a odd, serious yet plain voice.

“We just need to speak to whoever your leader is...we bring dark tidings from the East.”
Said Raz. The wizard nodded. “Surely my master had already discovered these tidings, but I shall procure him nonetheless. Sit at those benches. He will be here shortly...or in a few hours. However long he sees fit.” The little man said as he scampered of. The Dwarfs sat on some benches at the side of the entrance. The elf sat in the grass in front of them. “Look at there masterful use of the fireball...” the Elf said, watching some wizards duel.

A magical horn blew and we saw three Mages advance to us. The one in the middle had a red beard reaching the floor, hair like fire and eyes like balls of magma. His staff has a floating ball of flame on its top. He had heavy robes with strange symbols on it, likely some kind of human runes. His voice was deep, oddly deep for a human. “So, you seek to ask for my power?” He said. He was dark skinned, a rarity in these parts. “Sir. We come with a warning. The elf forest is enchanted with magic, allowing them to travel through its start to the towns within days or weeks. We need to stop it! And surely with your relics, you can take out it’s great oak, and kill the magic!” Raz said, practically hopping up and down.

“Relics...the Fyerium.” (It has previously been called a fire gem, the literal translation of the dwarfs word for it.) The lead wizard said. At hearing it the other two had a strange look on there faces. A look of...sorrow? Failure? Awkwardness? “It has been a while since we’ve seen it. One night...it was taken by...the Godless Patriarch. He raided our tower. I, Patriarch Morganus, failed to stop him...nobody could see him aside from the cloak, but under cover of night he broke out magical protections and took it to do Azyr knows what. We can’t help you.” Morganus said. Godless Patriarch...Raz thought to himself. Sounds familiar.

“Who is this godless patriarch?” The elf asked in his usual condescending tone. Morganus sighed. “Your friend looks like he knows. He can explain to you later. Now, if you want our help you need to get that thing yourself. I’m sure your friend knows where his fortress is. But...I urge you not to try.” Morganus laughed a little. “No matter your strength, you cannot match Alucath. Anything else? This is a busy day.” Raz shook his head. “Good. Then be gone.” One of the other two said, and all three walked away. We watched them go. “Well boys, time to head out.” Kaz said, and we turned around.

### Chapter 6: The Godless Patriarch

“Who in the great ancestors Rocky Mountains is the godless patriarch?” Maellin said as we walked further up the mountain. Raz looked happy to be able to answer a question. “A patriarch from 50 years ago, Alucath discovered a tome bearing secrets to dark arts. He learned it. And it is said he became some kind of monster...but nobody has seen him since. And it is said he has allied with all kinds of dark monsters. He found a hidden plane, that can only be accessed from the top of this mountain. He is incredibly powerful, and we get to go fight him!” Raz said, never wearing in enthusiasm.

“Thats...interesting. Why is he called godless? Did he leave the order?” Kaz asked. “The first is because his magic was unholy! And the second...he didn’t leave.!$3 was forced out.” Raz answered, a start to a laugh was cut short as he nearly tripped off the side of the mountain on a rock. I myself considered all the information. That sure was a lot to consider. We didn’t even have a plan, it was evident Raz didn’t know much more then he told us. And we were about to do something Fire Mages were to scared to do...that’s about right. It’s about time some dwarfs show them how to be proper heroes.

We reached the top. A stunningly beautiful one indeed. A nice rounded snow topped top of the mountain. I looked across the green fields. And then, when we walked to the far edge, I saw something that certainly wasn’t there before. The elf gasped. A long, rickety, curved wooden bridge leading all the way down the cloud touching mountain to the ground...where there was a dark, cursed looking forest. With a castle in the middle. A forbidding, gothic castle, that like the rest of the forest definitely wasn’t there before. “I believe this is what they call...the Shadow Wood.” Raz said, somewhat ominously.

“That staircase...were about to go down that staircase? This high up?” I said, unable to hide the fright in my voice. “What, scared?” Maellin said while bumping my shoulder. I took a deep breath. “Ight, I’ll go first.” Kaz said. He took a step and it was like the whole bridge shook. I heard him gulp. “Don’t worry, it’s magic, so it shouldn’t collapse. I think...” Raz said, a little scared himself. Though he hid it expertly I get the feeling it frightened the elf a little to. The only person who showed no signs of fear outside or inside was Maellin.

I stepped down last. Every noise echoed mournfully like a ghost of the past. The bridge swung to and fro. But we would stop. Due to its tilt, it was almost to the point we could slide down, but none of us were brave enough to see what would happen then. I held on to the ropes for dear life, and had time to admire the scenery below. A decrepit village, that frightening castle. Some of its towers seemed to float. And a giant graveyard on a hill, mixed with uninviting crooked trees that looked ready to grab a traveler if he were foolish enough to enter those woods.

Finally we hit the last part of the bridge. Kaz took a careful step to the ground, which made a odd squishing noise. We were in thick of those dark and foreboding woods. Strange sounds from animals or worse could be heard all over the woods. It was dark, but lamp like leaves hung down from some trees, not all of there leaves would be like this but about one every 50. Branches on the floor seemed to writhe and move like there in a silent scream. Crooks and something that sounded like screams could be heard, but the woods were strangely bereft of birdsong.

“Well. We’ve gotten ourselves into a hard place this time.” The elf said, running his hand over a long leaf hanging low on a dark branch. “Yes...this may have been a mistake...maybe we should leave...” Raz said, tapping his fingers together with a hint of worry in his voice. He looked back to where the bridge was. It was gone. The area we had entered from was completely covered by trees with moonlight shining through them. “That’s moonlight. But it was day.” I said, somewhat bluntly. “This is a cursed place. We need to be done with it quickly, less this madness in the air takes hold.” Kaz said, and he was right about the air. It just seemed to carry a scent, a feel, of madness...of fead. And the rotting stench of the dead.

“This smell is horrid.” Maelin said. “Not as horrid as yours.” The elf retorted, with a smirk. Raz was pressing a Rune Stone in his pocket and looked like he was focusing intently. “I sense a powerful magical prescience deep in the woods. A item of great magical power, the gods are showing it to me! It must be able to help us!” He said happily, looking at us intently with joy. “Well...do you know how to get there?” The elf asked skeptically. “Uhh...yes! Follow me!” Raz called as he bounded off deeper into the words. I could swear, the wind sounded like cruel laughter.

We walked through the forest. My cape got stuck on a branch, so I quickly took up my axe and chopped it off, electing a laugh from Kaz. Raz got increasingly quite as we approached where he was taking us. The elf, Leeth, looked on edge, his eyes darting from side to side. Maelin nervously chomped cheese. I held up the back as always, in quiet. I didn’t talk much in general. But the air in these woods almost made me feel like I couldn’t. Underground air is...stale? But is comforting to dwarfs. But this air...it carried something wicked. A wickedness that pervaded all of this sickened wood. “This is the stuff of songs...heroes lost in realms of witchcraft...” Maelin said, his voice sort of droning with a hint of fear. “Songs will be sung if us one day, Maelin. Perhaps you can right them.” Kaz said, always trying to encourage his team. And this brought a smile to Marlins worried face.

“Stop! We’re here!” Raz proclaimed and he held up his hand. There was a circle of trees. To the far end was a rock, a cracking rock, a spoiled rock with a sword in it, what looked like moss at its hilt, dirtied except for a gem in the middle of its hilt. In front of it, reaching for the stone, or looking like they were running away from it, were skeletons and rotting bodies. Maelin took a step and heard a snap, jumping up with fear as he looked down at the crushed skull he had stepped on, the winds seemed to make the jaws of the skeletons speaking, whispering words of warning. Some skeletons were short, sturdy, and certainly those of dwarfs. Many wore robes displaying them as some of the Fire Mages now los to this forsaken realm.

Then we heard breath. Leaning with his back to the stone was a man, malnourished to the point he looked like he would soon be joining the dead, his ribs would certainly be visible if not for the old, dirty mail armor he wore, a chest plate over leather, mail strips over his leather pants as well. His helmet laid next to him, as forlorn and lost as he was. Raspy breaths were being emitted from his near dead form. The elf gasped. Kaz ran to him and kneeled down. It was a human, to be sure, though it was hard to tell at this point. “Hello. Can you talk?” Kaz asked. The human looked at him. “Yes. I need...this sword.” He said. “First you need food.” Kaz replied. He motioned backwards and Maelin handed him some cheese. He put it in the starving humans bony hands, and the human devoured it quickly. We gathered around him. The elf produced a loaf of bread the human devoured as well.

“Wait! I know, I bought this in town!” Raz produced a large vial. A rare healing potion! It must have been a fortune. He held it to the mans lips and the man instantly looked rejuvenated, a new light out into his eyes. “Heroes! Saviors! I am Callus Duskman! I came to this sword to find my destiny! Surely you know of its power?” He said, bits of food on his face, for in his rush he had not been to careful with his food and ate it so voraciously he had made a bit of a mess. “I don’t. All I know is the gods led me to it.” Raz said to him. “This is the Sword of Desire, it shall lead you to it!” The man said, his voice restored fully. He appeared to be a young man, and his words made Kaz smile.

The man had raven black hair, and he put his helmet back on. “I was going to draw it...but starvation took home. I’ve barely eaten for so long in this wood...” he said. “What did you want to use it for?” I questioned him, suspicious of his motives. “To slay the godless patriarch. This will take me to him, or to a tool to destroy him.” The man replied. Kaz looked thoughtful for a second before answering. “We may have to fight him ourselves, maybe not. Come with us. If we don’t, we will give the sword to you for your mission.” Kaz proclaimed. The man looked at us oddly. “And what do you want?” He said.

Raz answered him. “The fyreium. To save the land. A noble goal, yes?” The man nodded and sighed. “Yes, yes, but nobility won’t help me kill the Patriarch. What is your plan? Do you know these woods?” Callus questioned. “No. But now I have this sword that could take us to our goal.” Raz said with a smile. Callus smiled back. “Now, do my eyes deceive me or is that a elf?” The man said, to a simple nod from the elf. “Of course. I hear all this talk about the beauty of elf women, and I meet one and not only is he torn up and covered in grime, but some ugly man.” The human said half jokingly. The elf did not look like he approved.

However, it made us dwarfs laugh. He stood up. “So, you believe it will tell you the way to that relic?” He asked Raz. Raz nodded. Callus motioned first Raz to take the blade. Raz hopped on the rock, focused, and slowly pulled it out of the stone. The blade was in as poor condition as the hilt was, but Raz’s eyes opened wide and he said “I know where it is. Let’s go!” He raised a fist into the air and we cheered. It was time for some more adventure!

### Chapter 7: March of the Skeletons

We traveled through the woods for what was only a few hours but seemed like days. The very forest seemed to sap the energy from us. I hated it here. Sometimes I hated this adventure...but it was all worth it. We had to reclaim our lands. Nobody had talked much, content to wallow in there own misery. This was with the exception of the human. He seemed fine, almost joyous. He was unnaturally pale which contrasted with his raven black hair. I assumed most people from this cursed forest were like that...if this wood had any people. I stepped on something and it cracked. I looked down.

A simple board of wood with a nail in it. Normally a minuscule find. But in this circumstance it meant civilization may be near. “Callus. Do you know if there are any people here?” I asked. He gave a look of sadness, but I wasn’t entirely convinced. “Yes. There was a town here, with my family in it. Our foolish ancestors made a deal with the devils that run this place. And no, I don’t mean the patriarch. Generations later, he came and killed us all...and confined them to a date worse then death. See, the deal was they would bury all of there dead on this hill and this devil, I forget his name, Crtrathun? Whatever. Anyways they buried there people on that hill and he protected them. Until he decided there were enough people there, raised them as skeleton beasts. killed the living, changed there corpses to. What we’re about to come up on is the soggy ruins of the town.” He said. There wasn’t much emotion in that whole chunk of exposition.

Raz looked a little concerned. “So there are still skeletons here?” He asked. Callus smiled. “Yes! Ruled by that idiot who made the deal, the Bone-King Valur. Though everybody just calls him the bone king now. I expect we will come across them soon.” This response was...ominous. “Well...can we kill them?” Kaz asked. “Sure we can. Break enough bones and the necromancy loses power. Don’t ask me how it works. I know nothing about necromancy, or wizardry for that matter.” Callus replied, raising his hands up in mock surrender.

We thought we were suffering. Our arrogant elf had turned pale. He had barely spoken for a while. Being more attuned to nature, I’m sure the dark state of the forest affected him more. In fact the only things he would say sometimes were whispered laments of the fate of the trees. We arrived in the middle of a rotting town. A fountain in the middle was empty and falling about. The wood in the houses was rotting and destroyed. Barely anything was left standing. I got the feeling there would be even less if not for the forests odd magic. “Welcome to Huskig!” Callus explained with enthusiasm.

There were skeletons rotting in the darkened ruins of the houses. “Your home?” Kaz asked, thought he had already been told the answer. “Yep.” Callus replied, and he looked at a skeleton closer. “Hey Callus, why do you want to kill the Patriarch anyways?” Leeth asked. “You don’t seem like one to do it for peace and justice.” He continued in his arrogant tone, slightly gesturing with his arms in a way that elves do. They think there such smooth talkers, those elf’s. And they...are. A little bit. Not this one though.

The man sighed. “I don’t know what you expect me to answer with. For money? Magic?” He said half heartedly. “Doesn’t matter if he is with us.” Maelin said. “Yes, but we have to make sure it’s not to take the patriarchs power for himself through some dark means.” I added, stepping forward. Callus shrugged. “To prove I’m better.” He said nonchalantly. A creaking and cracking, a shacking and rattling, we heard footsteps on the torn stone roads. Raz ran out to check, as we were in the middle of to buildings.

“Beasts of bone! Foul necromancy is afoot! Look!” He sounded frighten. I ran to him, and as did the others. Five, fully grown, rotted, bleached skeletons in scraps of armor looked at us, wielding swords and shields. Some spreads. The lead one, with the most armor, looked in our direction with a eyeless head and his jaw dropped as low as it could go, giving a unearthly screech. “Khazkalid-Mugh Ha!” Kaz yelled in our native tongue, and charged. The bearer of the sword Raz drew it.

He looked at the magic sword for a moment, hesitant. I saw something weird in his eyes. Then he charged with the rest, using the sword and with a mighty swipe cut a skeleton in half. Callus normally used a crossbow. And I heard him curse. It wasn’t to good against creatures made of bone, a bolt could fly through its rib cage, so he charged with a knife to help the elf. The lead one was against me. Thankfully it wasn’t to fast or I would have been gutted with his sword almost immediately. He thrust at me, I dodged and the spear was low, I slammed into its lowered hilt with my axe and carved it in two. Being shorter then the now mostly defenseless skeleton I took a swipe at his legs to bring him down to my size. His leg less body fell in front of me, it had dropped its shield and was reaching out to me with maddened undead hands. With horror in my eyes and mind. I brought my axe down through its bony head.

More skeletons rose from the buildings and the woods. We quickly formed a circle, back o back. “Our first run in with necromancy boys! Let’s show them Dwarf spirit!” Kaz said with a yell that shook the trees. We lined up our shields, exempting the elf and the human who would use there height to strike from over our heads. The bone-men charged. We tore them apart in the first wave, slicing there legs off then tearing through there heads, jumping up and slicing there skulls in half, or better. The tall folk would slice there heads clean off sometimes while we held them. Slicing through bone was tiring though.

A rusty arrow hit the elf in the side. He yet out a yell, looked a little dizzy and fell. There goes Leeth. The skeletons jaws dropped and they let out that hateful, horrible road again. I heard a throaty yell and Maelin went down by a small cut from a rusty dagger. Odd. We had all withstood stronger then a cut before. These skeletons hadn’t hit us yet, but When they did...I looked closer at a dagger from behind my shield. “Poison! The weapons are poisoned!” I began to cry before a arrow took me to. I felt dizzy and lost focus before I fell to the ground. I was half asleep and dazed, but I could hear the sounds of my brothers meeting the same fate as I...

Why was it so cold under me? I was laying down. I slowly, sleepily turned on to my stomach and saw iron bars, somewhat rusted. I sat up. I was in a cage, with my friends beside me. We were fully armed, but could barely move due to some magic in the cage. I looked outside. What must have been fifty skeletons marched alongside our cage, which was on the back of a chariot of course led on by two rotting, undead horses. “We should never of gone there...” Maellin grumbled. “I’m very sorry heroes. I’m sure we can make it out fine.” Callus whispered.

I went to the side and put my hands on the bars, sticking out my head. A skeleton noticed me and yelled in what seemed like a old version of Kalur, native to the kingdoms of Kalurin up north. He also thrust his spear at me, causing me to stumble back. The skeletons marched through the dark wood, tree branches snapping as they met our cage. Until we came to a hill. It was a very large hill with graves all around if, and in the middle was what looked like a small chapel. Our cart and escorts parked at the side of the chapel, and I heard the doors creak as they unlocked our cages.

I noticed some of the skeletons had nooses on there necks. Some had bones crushed. Some had arrows of knifes sticking out of them. And some looked like they were infected with a black moss. There had not been much talking on the way to the chapel, there was simply a air of silence. The skeletons spoke in a cold voice, that sounding like a human with a clogged throat. “You. Take the prisoners inside to the Bone-King one said while pointing at the chapel. Skeletons gathered around us and forced us at spear point to the front. They marched us around the building to the entrance. It was not a welcoming chapel. The front was crumbling, the tower in the middle was as well and spider webs were everywhere.

Two skeletons who actually had armor on marched in front of us. They opened up the rotting wooden doors of the chapel. It was a long hallway, longer then it looked like from the outside. There were old stain glass windows lining the side with pillars a few feet in front of them. In the middle, with stain glass behind it on what must have been a altar before sat a throne. And to the side of it two staircases leading down. On the throne sat a giant skeleton, with a bronze, square shaped helmet with crown like jewels reaching skyward on the sides. He leaned forwards on his throne supported by his arms. He had armor on. The armor looked icy and cold, and he had a long, damaged red cape.

“So you collected them? Good! Not many travelers come through these parts! Haha, bring them forward!” His voice had more of a cruel edge, and sent a shiver down my spine. “He said we can pick one of them to keep. Who looks fun to you boys?” He said, sending a cold laugh that echoed through the chapel and was picked up by the skeletons. Kaz looked at us sadly, then at the king. I think I knew what was going to happen. He nodded at me. “Take me! I’m the only one in this group worth anything!” He cried, putting on a voice of arrogance that sounded unnatural to him. “Oh. A boisterous one. Grab em!” The king cried. Surprisingly strong skeletons grabbed his arms from behind and walked him down the cursed, dark stairs on the side of the throne.

“And the ambassador should be arriving...” the king was interrupted by a puff of smoke in front of his throne. A very pale man with raven black hair and a neat goatee, dressed equally as fine appeared in front of him and straightened his gloves. “The rest of the prisoners?” He said, getting straight to business. The skeleton king nodded. “Well then, I believe it’s time for extraction.” The man said turning around. I looked closer at the stained glass. Unearthly beings...horrors were displayed on them. “What dark gods are those...” I whispered, and looked down. I met Raz gaze and he winked. He pulled a stone out of his pocket. But it had a glowing red rune on it. The Rune of Fire.

He quickly turned and threw it behind us. It erupted in a instant, burning the skeletons guarding the door. He ran straight through it and into the woods. It wasn’t harmful to dwarfs. “Come on lads! The others need to wait a few before they can join us!” I yelled as I approached the fire quickly. “What about Kaz...” Maellin said, looking confused. “he made a sacrifice. We may save him later.” I said, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him through. The denizens of the chapel slowly turned around to see Leeth and Callus exchange nervous glances and draw there weapons, before the fire disappeared and they ran. The skeleton king roared and the skeletons gave chase! But Leeth and Callus were quick, and disappeared into the wood.

### Chapter 8:The Crown and the Pick

*In the Tavern*
You sure showed him! The young dwarf said laughing as his friend came back with a new bruise. The old storyteller laughed as well. “Yeah...sorry for the mess.” The human said nodding to the storyteller, he only chuckled. “I’ve seen worst! The next part of my tale takes place in the writings of one...Kaz, not our usual Tato. So it may be a little...different. But I feel it’s right considering the circumstances poor Kaz got left in in the skeletons realm.” The old dwarf said

‘They Story continues
I was carried deep under the “church” and into the catacombs. A fear struck me when I saw the boxes where bodies would be stuffed, surely the skeletal wretches wouldn’t stuff me in one of those. A wall had a arch with his one of these coffins in it. The arch went up to the roof so you could...step in. One of the skeletons with me went to go open it...he slid off the lid and I was barely able to look in, but I saw pitch black. I was suddenly struck with fear and my hand instinctively gripped the locket on my neck. They laughed a odd hollow laugh echoing off there necks of bone. Shoved me forward...and shoved me in. I fell in complete darkness for a few seconds before I unceremoniously smashed into the cold, hard ground.