And here it is Chapter one of "The building of an Empire"
Chapter 1
"Come on boys cut that stone, we dont have all day." The Stronghammer dwarves both grunted in response as they chiseled away at the boulder. Kranth watched them as they worked his mind drifting back two weeks prior to the fall of a friend. The world had begun to shake and tremble with dirt and stone falling from the ceiling. Kranth had looked to his side just in time for his friend Grimil to throw him back. That sacrifice had saved Kranths life but had buried his friend alive beneath the wall of stone. That collapse had bought the dwarves a reprieve from the goblin horde. Yet that break would only last as long as the wall of stone did. Thankfully Grimil had the foresight to bring in all of the supplies brought by Dwdal including the wagon. Kranth sighed as he thought about his other friend that he had lost to the attacking monsters. Dwdal had been in the small tower above the entrance with that new elf friend when it had been hit by a giant tossed boulder. No one had been able to locate them or even go out for them when the entrance had collapsed. And so it was assumed by all that yet another friend was lost to tragedy. Since that time the dwarves had worked hard to carve out a home in the small cave that they were trapped in. The Silverpicks had erected a small monument to their fallen leader at the entrance to their new mines. When it had been finished the dwarves had all held a small ceremony for the fallen hero and all those who had fallen before him.
Handrel had also finally made his claim for the leadership of the group. He had made his small speech at the foot of the monument to Grimil. Kranth had almost thought the monument would have fallen over onto the lecherous little creature, but it seemed that his friend had left them all far behind. Handrel had produced the signed documents from the king and had lectured them all on their duty to hold and king. Since then he had the dwarves carve him a small throne at the back of the cave. Once that was finished he set the dwarves to working around the clock to build him his own room. Kranth already was not happy about the situation, they should be reinforcing the door. But he was not king and so should had to listen to the petty commands of Handrel. They were almost finished now though on Handrel's small room and he was overseeing the cutting of the last few blocks at that very moment. Once they were done with the construction, maybe then the "king" would allow them to return to their work.
Just as Kranth had been thinking those thoughts Handrel wandered through the doorway of his small room. He smiled as he gave a quick look around and came up to speak to Kranth. "Good. You are almost finished! Most excellent. Once you are done here, I want you and the Stronghammers to return to our entrance and begin construction on fortifications. If that rock wall falls we must be prepared." Kranth nodded, a surprised smile on his face. He was glad that Handrel had clearly seen reason and finally was acting more like a leader. "As you wish, yer highness." Handrel nodded and walked from the room clearly with other things on his mind. The Stronghammers were placing the final block when Kranth turned back to them. "Well ye heard your King, get movin!"
While Kranth and the Stronghammers headed over to begin work on defences, elsewhere the Silverpicks were hard at work. Only two remained from the group that headed out under the leadership of Grimil. One who was the new clan leader Barthum and the other Urist. Both were hard at work on the new mine they had started to carve out from the main cave. The mine had no ore in it, yet it had a very strong stone similar to granite. This stone they knew would be useful for the building of the defenses, so they diligently carved away at it.
While they worked they kept up a running commentary about what was on their mind, as the Silverpick miners often did. Currently they were discussing the fall of their leader and the convenient rise of Handrel. "So this Handrel seems rather full of himself." Said Barthum as he swung his pick into the wall before him. Urist nodded while he wiped his face with a handkerchief produced from his pocket. "That seems true enough. He wants us to build him a fancy throne and a fancy room, before we even secure the damned tunnel." Barthum laughed at his friend's irritation and quickly responded with a quip of his own. "Aye you would think he was some sort of fancy elf lord prancing through the trees, instead lord of a dirt hole." Both laughed at the image of Handrel covered in bows dancing through the flowers. There laughter however soon brought the subject of their talk.
Handrel wandered into the small though surprisingly deep tunnel that the Silverpicks were digging in. "Whats going on here? I heard some racket, is everything working out alright?" Barthum leaned his pick against the wall and turned to face Handrel. "Aye Handrel everything is fine. We're just chattin while we dig, or is that banned." Handrel made an irritated face at the dust covered dwarf before responding. "No it is not, I was just worried there might be a collapse." Urist spun around on his heel a look of indignation on his face. "And just what do ye mean by that wise crack? No dwarf tunnel ever collapsed unless we made it collapse. Least of all a Silverpick tunnel." Handrel now looking quite bored at the dwarf's outburst waved his hand dismissively before replying. "Yes, yes I know you are the best miners above or below the world. However is that anyway to address your King? Half liquor rations for a week, for the both of you. Now back to work." With those parting words he walked off out of the tunnel his head held high in the air. The two Silverpicks turned back to the rock wall grumbling and resumed work. Interestingly enough they seemed to work faster while the rock face was an imaginary Handrel.
Handrel walked back to his small throne with a look of satisfaction. The Silverpicks he knew where going to be his largest problem going ahead. However if he kept them under his thumb then he was sure that they could be managed. His look of satisfaction turned to one of pure delight when his gaze fell upon his throne. The Gemchippers were hard at work carving small runes all over his stone throne and into the very dais it sat upon. Every time a rune was finished the Blessed Gunner would breathe life into it and the symbol would flare with a red light finally dwindling to a dull crimson glow. They were runes of wealth and prosperity, strength and honor, wisdom and courage. But most of all to Handrel the runes represented his rule over the mountain. The two Gemchippers stopped their work as Handrel approached and the Blessed Gunner greeted the new King. "Your majesty the work on the throne and dais are nearly complete. After we are finished might I suggest we be set to working on the defenses?" Handrel shook his head as he sat in his throne to address the Rune priest. "No I think it would be best if you worked on my crown." Irritation flashed across the face of the priest for a split second before resuming its air of neutrality. "But your majesty we have no metal to do such a task nor do we have the facilities." Handrel raised his hand to silence the priest before speaking himself. "You are to build a runic forge and use the metal from one of the war axes to make the crown."
The other Gemchipper with a look of alarm could not stop himself from interjecting. "But your majesty those are ancestral weapons, carved with the ancient clan runes. They are also our only weapons." Again Handrel raise his hand to silence the opposition before speaking. This time however his annoyance was written on his face and dripped from his voice. "I am aware of the situation and I know what those weapons are. However they are in my Kingdom and under my rule. If I command it, it shall be so under this mountain. The Blessed Gunner gave a node, his face full of pain about what he had to do. "As you command your majesty, I will go and make the preparations." The other Gemchipper bowed and well and hurried off, no doubt to tell the others about Handrel's new command. Handrel however was unconcerned, his Hold was coming together and soon his rule would be filled with wealth and glory. There was nothing the Silverpicks could do, and nothing could prevent his rule. It was finally his time to shine.
While Handrel sat and dreamed of his future another dwarf woke for the first time in two weeks. The light was glaring at first as he open his eyes slowly to try find his surroundings. He had to close them again and wait for his eyes to adjust more before he could attempt opening them again. Once he finally did get them open the first thing he saw was the face of the elf women he had been with. She had a smile on which he noticed first. He was glad to see she was ok, however his eyes next focused on the bandage around her heard and the wearied look on her face. "Do not worry we are safe and the goblins have left." Dwdal sat up slowly and leaned on his elbows to get a better look at his surroundings. He was inside what looked like a wooden cabin, yet the walls had no seems between the beams and the view outside seemed the higher sections of trees. "We are back in your village aren't we?" Croaked Dwdal his voice dry and weak.
The elf women nodded and looked out the window of the small cabin, a slight smile on her face. "Yes we are back at my home. After the collapse the goblins had left seeing the dwarves defeated. Two days later my people had arrived and took us back to the village to heal and recover." The colour in Dwdal's face drained as she spoke of the fall of his. However when she mentioned the time a thought occured to him. "How long has it been since the tower collapsed, if it hasn't been long we can dig out survivors?" She had a pained look on her face as she watched him speak. She gave him a slight squeeze on the arm while she broke the news. "It is two weeks since the fall. There are no survivors except us. We attempted to recover survivors but were only able to recover one body. The collapse is to thick." The statement shook Dwdal to his core. A Silverpick tunnel never collapsed and never caved in. He had been raised on those principals and had seen tunnels as the one safe bastion in the world. But now he was being told that a Silverpick tunnel had collapsed from what looked like a simple giant tossed rock. And now his friends were all gone in a blink without a whisper. "Describe to me who it was that you recovered from the collapse." He was not yet ready to admit that his friends were all gone." Lorath nodded and sat closer to Dwdal to explain who it was they found. "It was the leader of the miners, the one with the black beard..." Dwdal cut her off before she could continue already knowing who she spoke of. "That is Grimil Clan Leader of the Silverpicks in this expedition." Dwdal now accepted the fall of his people, for if Grimil had been caught in the collapse then all of them would have been there beside him holding the monsters at bay. "He needs to be given a proper Dwarven Hero's burial." Lorath nodded and left the room to begin preparations. Dwdal knew the burial was the least that he could do.
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Topic: The Founding of a Home (Read 10654 times)