A word, a coin, a dagger in the dark
I'll break him, roared Grimnirs inner beast. I'll show him what Hammerscardwarves are made of! And when I'm done with Shinn, I'll have Brewster hanged for the traitor he is.
Of course not, another voice within him said, softly and almost impossible to hear. Of course you won't. Blood will have blood, Hammerscar must endure the storm, if it is to last the winter. Every winter.
Grimnir was no mad-man. He was scarred, of course, and there was times when he would flare up, or out, and sometimes, when the darkness crept in, and he would feel betrayed, and remember the Goblin Wars, the blood, the weeping of Dwarves, whose hearts were as of stone, then he feel a shiver down his spine, and the insanity that Dwarvenkin always fears would almost grip him.
But it was no coincidence that Grimnir organised the expedition that would become Hammerscar. Madness was just another monster to restrain, and Armork know, Grimnir was no novice at restraining monsters.
"Tirion!" he yelled, and the hectic mastermind was sent for. He arrived shortly after, a nervous flare in his eyes, a look of intelligence and concern. "Yes, Founder?" Grimnir did not approve of that title, but it had become impossible to wrestle himself free from it. He had accepted it, with reluctance. Sometimes he worried, that this would be the first step on the ladder of Tyranny. He found comfort in the fact that he was still lucid enough to realise this.
"Send for Brewster. Ask him to see me, alone. None of the Blackdiamond, none of the Cuts. Just us. Tell him Grimnir wants to see him. Not the Founder, not the First of Hammerscar, just... Just Grimnir."
A flash of surprise in Tirions face. The sudden vulnurability of his Founder clearly shocked him. He nodded, and swept away, always thinking, analysing, thinking. Sometimes, Grimnir thought, he had a suspicion that Hammerscar would be reduced to rubble and anarchy were it not for Tirion. But then again, Hammerscar was an effort of the many, was it not?
Of course it wasn't. Pan had clearly hinted otherwise, and Grimnir was no fool. He knew how Pan thought, how he made things happen, with a word, a coin, or a dagger, so subtle it was as if no one saw it. Just whispers in the dark. Depressing, Grimnir thought, how true power manifests. He'd prove it lies - there was strength in unity, strength in flesh and in agreement. Hammerscar would forever be open.
Always and forever, if he had to die to ensure it.
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Topic: [Succession Game] Hammerscar - Politics, rebellion and war. (Read 49617 times)