Of Fire and Anvil

[Ravial]

    Darkness. Water dripping way off in the distance. Sound of boots, heavy, steel. Twang of keys. Dry mouth. And pain. Horrible pain. Weakness. Shouts. No, not here. Far, far and long time ago. Here only groans and wanderings. Twang of steel. Fire. Warm. Not here, but i feel it. On my face, hands and beard. Water dripping, silent grunt, groans, Groans of pain. Powelessness, curses, slurs, steel boots. Pain, pain again. Never ending, eternally damaging, agonizing, wounding. Laughter, fire, more fire. More fire! Agony.... unyelding agony...

-Hey, Torgar!- shouted Bloin- Why do you linger with it? Your birthday is comming close! 

-Alright, alright brother. I'll end it soon. - replied, hitting with hammer in steel. Torgar Battlesmith worked day and night in forge of his father. It was a big place with many workstations. The room was littered with diffrent weapon types, parts of armors, iron or darksteel ignots, pieces and fillings of wood. A scent of ash tree's wood and hot steel could be smelled in the air. - There is some work left here to do still, i'll come in an hour. 

-Oh really? All day you sit here. Go and find yourself more life! Look at our brothers. Thornir became Hammer of Moradin, Glurin is a priest of Clangeddin Silverbeard. Horgar, your twin, runs mine and building new rooms as well as fortifications, and you? 

-And im handling the forge. I know, i know. I've heard already how everyone are laughing at me. Only dwarf that doesn't know how to fight. But what can i do? That's my life. - he waved with his hand towards rest of workshop. - That's my place. I'm not suited for being a warrior, in truth it's good to hear about various things our brothers are doing, but that's not for me. 

-Talking so thou is weak. I don't understand what Jarna sees in you. Hitting with hammer in steel and making jewelery. We are Battlesmiths and we all know our way with smithing, but you? You exaggerate completely. 

-You see, Bloin, if you want to become master on something, you need to sacrifice your life for it. That's the truth 

-Now you're talking like some old sage. How old are you? forty five? Kid still! Life before you. 

-Give me a break, travelling? That's not for me. First time when i went topside i almost fainted because of all that air and i was scared to fall off into the sky! Im good here, in the forge where i work on what i always wanted. 

-So be it, brother. Im not laughing at you like rest and father should be proud to have such son as you. Im sure he is. Come on! I'll help you with it so you can end it faster.... and grow a proper beard for Moradin's sake! You are looking like a nancy-boy! - Torgar and Bloin bursted out laughing and got to the work. 

[Ravial]

    Torment. Neverending torment. Darkness, full of groans and pain. Death hanging in the air. Another went away. Went there, from where horrble noises come. March of the dead. Only that is left. Water dripping, twang of keys, steel boots. Pain. Terrible pain. Always the same. Voices, lots of voices. Shouts. Blood, blood, blood, blood... Steel and blood. Rocks, sharp rocks. More blood. Rage. Unnatural rage. Shouts, louder, chanting. Death. We are all dead.






    Laughter, shouts, sounds of mugs hitting the table and music. Everything filled large feast hall. Smelly, roasted boars, poured with mead, venison bathed in spices and many other dishes, that tempted with their look, taste and smell. Dwarves were playing some games, telling jokes, drinking or fighting for last boar's leg. Thornir, Torgar's brother, who sitted next to him, had long, black beard with two plaits comming out from his moustache and one from chin. His aswell long, black, curly hair always combed back so that he looked like an aristocrat and his scar going from forehear, trough nose thowards left corner of his mouth gave him look of a dangerous, stimulant respect warrior, whom he was after all. Torgar on the other hand was not estinguishing with anything special or uncommon. Short, slightly burned beard from fires of the forge, not plaited, clean skin and none heroic scars or tattos. Suddenly, Thornir standed up from his seat, climbed on the table, walked deftly avoiding plates and jugs of mead, turned thowards young dwarf and said - Today, is an especial day! - All dwarves in hall went silent as well as music. - Today, my younger brother will not only end his forty five years, but also become a man! - Torgar looked at him and rest of the dwarves confused as they toasted loudly. - All days you only sit in forge, doing nothing else. Not fighting training, not learinig common, knowing nothing about surfice world, even books you don't read, not to mention chasing after wenches! Thou windy or something? We will change that, finally! First of all... - two other dwarves took Togar for his arms, raised him on the table and put in front of his older brother, while two others filled drinking horns with mead and gave to them both. - Today we drink for you, and for that you would finally became a proper Battlesmith. As the sun will rise, we shall go hunt something down or kill some filth.... or maybe you are scared? - Blackbearded dwarf scowled at him.
-Im not scared at all! - Torgar replied huffy.
-Oh yes? We'll see. - His older brother turned to the rest. - He's not scared! - he shouted loudly. - Young kid is not scared of battling orcs or giants! All the time he sits in his hole and he's not scared of anything! No wonder! Never seen anything like an "orc"! Maybe you'll even ask what is it? - he turned to Torgar and raised his horn of mead to the air. - If you'll drink that faster then me, i'll let you sit there in your forge. At least in drinking you'll be good, but if you fail, then tomorrow you shall swing with an axe like it or no. I'll make you a proper dwarf, sooner or later. So? You accept the challenge or you're even scared of this?
-Scared of drinking? Pah! Sooner i'll be scared off seeing you with lute in your hand, trying to sing something. Even hags have better voices! - dwarves laughed at that.
-Ha ha! Looks like we have a big mouthed dwarf here! On three. - both of them raised their horns to their lips.
One. Two. Thr-
- Sod off from him, Thornir! - blasted suddenly Bloin, getting down to the room. - You're laughing at him everyday and it's still not enough? In addition it's his birthday? Shame and disgrace. Lack of respect thowards your younger brother. - Bloin walked up to table where Torgar standed. He was a well builded dwarf with two ginger-brown plaits from his moustache. He had ragged, short hair and his green eyes looked at Thornir expectantly. - So how it will be? Done with it already? - Blackbearded dwarf glanced at Torgar grimly and with a fast swing he drank whole mead from the horn after which he stepped down from table and went to his seat. I didn't had a chance with him, thinked Torgar. Bloin, looking at him aswell, grunted. - Huh. Finally. Brother, father is calling you. He has some business with you.


((Sorry for bad grammar and anything else. Stop to grammar nazi :X)

[Ravial]

    ,,The Underdark, Torgar, is a vast network of caverns and tunnels under the ground linked with eachother. It's from when drows, duregars and other filth attacks. It splits into three level-like places. The highest is Upperdark. Miners often dig to it eventually and then we might have to fight with traitorous filth. Below it lies Middledark, where most of underground cities are. Drows, deep gnomes, duregars and rest of 'em. The lowest is called Lowerdark, place where only fools dared to go in. They say it's over run with demons and devils, well, i don't know that. Torgar, you know why am i telling you this? Underdark was not always full of drows and other bastards, no, once we had our great kingdoms, such as Old Shanatar. They are lost to us, but we struggle everyday to take back that what was ripped from us and defend our homes that remained..."

~~~~Galdur Battlesmith, Schoolar from Hall of Anvils~~~~



    -You called me, father? - said young dwarf, tilting doors to chamber delicatly. Torgar's father, Durnir, was a tall and muscular dwarf, but old, which could be concluded from grey tendrils on his dark ginger beard and hair. Room was not big, one wide table in middle of it with four wooden chairs, many shelves containing books about various things on chamber's right side. To the left, wall was covered with all sorts of weapons, from short swords to large greataxes. Few torches were giving a small, but enough light to lift darkness in the room.
-Yes Torgar. Take a seat.- Old dwarf pointed one of four chairs. Young smith of course sat on it obediently and waited in silence. - Today is your birthday, isn't it? Indeed, grand celebration. I assume Thornir pestered you already? Thought so. You always were fighting with eachother, i hope at least not as bad as last time? - Young dwarf simply tilted his head, giving to note that he doesn't care about it.- Aha. - grunted old dwarf - Well, you are my third son after all, important position in your case. Im not suprised that they ridicule you. Only thing you do is hammering in this cursed anvil and what this gives you? We have enough crafters in our clanhold and things you do we have to sell or keep under our beds, because there is simply no room for them, though trade is going poorly these times. - Dwarf frowned, ruffled his beard and grunted loudly - Though i cannot lie, those are of high quality. You gave your heart into this fine art and you have potential to become one of the best smiths that our clan knew. Who knows? Maybe even dwarven kingdoms? But in order to gain such abilities, you'll have to spend years of study and hard work. You know how to make normal armor, shield and any weapon, still, to become best smith you have to get knowledge about magic. Yes Torgar. Magic.... why do you look like somebody would kick you in your ass?
-Ugh... it's nothing. - old dwarf grunted yet again and looked at his son more gravely
-Lad, im offering you a chance to travel to surface, to human lands and become one of the greatest creators that this world might never see in a long time again. You have a big talent, boy, in your young age i may add. Still, it's your decision. You can always stay here and live a life of a simple smith, have family and deal with Thornir your every soddin' time for the rest of your time in this world... or go to surfice and learn from human and elven mages, which will benefit greatly with your skill for crafting things already. It is your- What in the nine hells is that racked?- shouted dwarf and went to open door to check what was causing sudden noises...
    -For the love of Moradin.....
    Torgar followed his father to see what is happening and he couldn't believe in what he saw. Drows and Duregars. Fighting with drunken outnumbered dwarves, that were ferocious and persistant. From nowhere a huge, black spider appeared and started to rampage all dwarves around. Out of thin air, a young and beautiful, as dwarf can be, woman bearing two-handed sword charged swiftly thowards spider and when she reached it, she gracefully spinned around black beast cutting off it's legs one by one. Thornir with his warhammer choosen to fight his way to the main gates of clanhold. He muttered silently strange words upon his weapon that started to glow delicately and charged forward, killing everyone that stood before him. Especially drows. Bloin jumped off from a small bridge above whole room and fell on unlucky duregar that lost his head afterwards. Dwarf wiped off his forehead, adjusted his belt, took two axes to his hand and started to do his work, also heading for the main gates.
    Old dwarf, seeing whole battlefield from his doors, started to shout some orders and curses, but Torgar was too paralyzed with fear to even notice them. Suddenly a dwarf with golden ornaments on his long black beard ran to them, avoiding axes and arrows both simple and magical.
-Brother! We have to do something or they will slay us all like some boars! We are too few to win this battle and they took us by suprise, possibly came from mines. - panted dwarf - They must've dig up to Underdark or those bloody bastardly born beasts found out our clanhold and did work for us.
-Galdur! Focus! - shouted old dwarf and sighed - I see it all clearly. We were prepared for it, but i never thought we'll have to do this.
-You are not talking about...
-Galdur, only you, me and Thornir know of it. I shall remain here and help my sons and doughters, you.... use Drunken Bard. -they looked upon eachother grimly.
-May Moradin guide your hand, Durnir. - said black bearded dwarf and ran further onward thowards tunnels leading to the highest level of this clanhold.
-May he welcome us in Dwarfhome... - Said head of clan Battlesmith and pushed Torgar back into the room, closed the door to it and barricaded it with two shelves with books.


    Dwarves gathered into one group and slowly were fighting their way to the exit when they only could, killing drows, duregars and other things that were sent to attack them, but not without heavy losses. In one moment, in whole clanhold a strange noise like from warhorn, but much more deep. Battle stopped and both sides turned their gaze on the area around them. Ground started to shake lightly, cracks started to appear on stone walls like ice hitted with axe. Bridge fell apart, walls crubeled, rocks fell from the ceeling, tunnels collapsing one by one untill from whole hold not even a single trace remained, exept for hollowed small part of the mountain.