The Events of the 14th of the 14th of Slate, 1065The High Council conveened at the top of the south-western gate tower, crowded around the arrow slits. Aryn had called their meeting up here, and though it was a "private function", many of the Dwarves not hauling, or planting, or digging were piling into the towers and out along the parapet's catwalk. Aryn stood the closest, his face wedged in between the slits, his hands clasped behind his back.
"And just why are we up here?" Asked Duke Bomrek, "Is this about that foul business with the Elves? You can't pout about that forever."
"No. It's not about the Elves," Aryn said quietly, though Glacies thought he could hear a trace of excitement in his voice. "It's about what's coming, look."
The others tried to crowd around, and Bertrand and Crowpages ended up stepping outside to try and see into the distance.
It was Rice, from outside, that spoke first: "Is that... on the horizon?"
Sulari was next, her voice carrying up from the floor below: "Oh. Oh my. Is that real?"
Erith, standing next to her, replied: "It's a mirage. A trick of the light and the heat. My dear, perhaps we should adjourn below, the lighting much better. I could carve the most glorious of homages..."
But it was Aryn at the arrow slits who spoke with certainty. When he turned to face the council, he wore a wide grin, the happiest they had seen him in months. "They've come."
***
Six had shown up to the fortress, tired and worn. They spoke of one of the five Mountain Halls of Stukos Matul falling to the unwashed hordes of the goblin armies. The ones that weren't in shock spoke of a shadow-cloaked giant, with flaming swords and flaming horns that tore through the stone walls like it was made of tallow.
Aryn made the executive decision to draft three of them, giving them over to a distraught Rolland for Training.
The remaining three were put to work, two to the mines and one given over to Rice and the Stoneworkers Union