Here is a short retelling of the story of Zulban and Lolor, lovers who reclaimed a fort
. Hope you like it!
Zulban and LolorEnolatīs (Grizzlystake), an outpost of the dwarven civilization The Iron of Truth, was settled in the year 106 on a small glacier north of the mountain homes. The settlement thrived, and a resplendent dining room, surrounded by a moat of cold water, was carved and engraved deep beneath the underground oceans of the lowest cavern. For several years the dwarves of Enolatīs traded fine silver trinkets and copper armour with the mountain homes. The Baron and trader, Medtod Ralardes, delighted in showing the wonders of their work to visitors, the beautiful halls that in just a few years had been widened from narrow passages to spacious subterranean streets lined with statues. The outpost was successful, and the dwarves happy. However, in the year 110 traders arrived at Enolatīs to find the front doors barred and a cold wind blowing from the east. The caravan departed when it became obvious that some tragedy or malady had befallen Enolatīs.
Stories and whispers of the fort spread through the mountain homes for years until they reached the ears of Lolor Zudenlogem, who proposed an expedition to the silent fortress. He and his lover, the hammerdwarf Zulban Zefongatiz, organised a party and departed. They arrived several months later in the year 115. A half finished wall, hastily cut from blocks of ice, surrounded a deep pit. An icy wind blew from the cursed tundra nearby, and scattered throughout the snow were frozen pigtail fiber clothes, discarded weapons, and broken furniture. As the party approached the entrance to the fort, the golden doors wrenched from their hinges, mounds of snow began to shift. Frozen limbs, raised from the dead, clawed at the party. Zulban swung her hammer, crushing the undead creatures as the dwarves broke into a run. In the rising blizzard she could see more shapes emerging from the snow. The entrance was close! Yet with every step another member of the Wires of Meditiation was dragged beneath the snow, screaming for help.
Zulban fought bravely. Her foot was severed by the reanimated corpse of goblin and her right hand torn open. Lolor, her lover, dragged her inside and together they worked to seal the fort. Only they had survived.
What followed was two long years of deprivation and grief. They mourned first their lost comrades, carving slabs in memory of the fallen. They then worked to entomb and remember the original dwarves of Enolatīs whose bodies littered the halls. Ghosts were frequent. Food was scavenged, either in daring raids by Zulban against reptile men in the caverns, or careful mining by Lolor to seal tunnels and secure a handful of frozen plump helmets. The pair talked little. Once while scouting out disused tunnels near the surface they heard the muffled cries of dwarves who they were powerless to help. The migrants were soon silenced by the dead, and only the moaning of the wind through the tunnels remained. That night they erected nameless slabs in the dining room, and cursed Vetek, the god of chaos.
On the 25th of Slate, 117, shouts woke Zulban and Lolor. They rushed to the tunnels and, after a quick debate, Lolor carved a small ramp to the surface. Zulban, her copper warhammer in one hand and a wooden crutch in the other, stepped into the cold. The wind was light, the sun shone and before them a procession of migrants were formed into a tight circle, a rotten giant hamster corpse harrying them. They saw Zulban and the leader of the migrants shouted. Zulban rushed toward them as they descended the ramp. With joy and skill, Zulban crushed the skull of the giant hamster with a single blow, the decaying brains of the beast staining the white snow. She felt powerful, alive. She considered killing the zombies that were now rampant, but the cries of Lolor drew her back to safety.
On that day, 25 migrants arrived at Enolatīs, and the dwarves began to rebuild. The years ahead would be hard, but now there was hope.
Author
Topic: Zulban and Lolor (Read 592 times)