Goldenhold
Chapter 15: For the Fortress
He woke, bolting straight up from the floor of the road. His home had been overtaken by invaders. He carried a covered axe, which confused him. However, there was a hallway ahead. It was the hall of kings, a place that he had never seen before. Six massive columns supported the gigantic rectangular halls, booths of administrators running back and forth constantly. Gems were everywhere, the walls of solid gold, the floor of silver.
It was godlike in architecture. But something in him knew that wasn’t why he was here, simply to admire sights. People were scarred, the door barricaded by the few remaining guards. A shove forced them back, the door splintering into a million pieces as a horde of goblins broke in. They flooded the hall, not even bothering to kill anyone. They stared at the ceiling, nearly half a mile high, the walls for their wealth. But most of all, they stared at the adamantine throne of the king. “It is ours!” A goblin dressed in red armor said, commander of the evil invaders.
An urge filled Stonehand. He walked out to the middle of the room, standing alone and proud, covered axe in one hand, wearing a light blue cape. He felt like saying something- totally confident in his words, despite the hundreds of goblins pouring into the halls, white foam frothing in their mouths of sweet victory. Out came four simple words. “I don’t think so.”
The army noticed him, standing alone. The goblins stared for a long moment before bursting out laughing at him. “What are you going to do? Stop us?”
Rather than running away like a sane person as they all faced their bows and arrows, spears and swords, shields and armor towards him, he stood there, not responding for a whole minute. Sweat poured down the faces of the administrators, nervous for their lives.
This time, Stonehand said something with sync, knowing what to say without any words. “You combat us. We have done nothing to you. Leave now or face the wrath of Armok. He stands with me and Goldenhold right now.”
The commander laughed. “Really? Armoks with you? Do I need to fill barrels of your brew with dwarvern blood to prove you wrong? Laughable dwarf, laughable.”
The next words though, were spoken by seven people at once, all one and all separate. For the first time ever in a dream, he felt the thoughts of others’ consciousness. “So be it.” They said together, voices blended coming from a single mouth.
They pulled off the cover to the axe, and revealed was a weapon with a body of gems, a handle of gold, and imposing twin blades edged with adamantine. The top of it menaced with spikes of silver, engraved with various images of the history of the fortress up to that point. The gems in the body were arranged into a pattern, rubies and sapphires, diamonds and onyx, emerald and opal, all shining in the shape of a pickaxe of diamond, crossed over by the image of an onyx bladed sword, the background of the pattern was made of glorious sapphire. The hilt of gold was bottomed with an obsidian orb, the frozen liquid of life.
The goblins looked taken back by the confidence as THEY walked forward in a single body. The next five words, grand and glorious, would be heard throughout the world. They yelled, another voice added in that came from every direction, every stone, every particle of air, every mist of the ocean, and the sound was even being heard by every single deaf in the whole world. Everyone paused what they were doing. Wars stopped for a moment, traders in various markets hushed instantly, and the world was at peace for a whole five seconds.
They weren’t heard through ears, they were heard through every living and un-living thing’s consciousness, their soul. The words were of desperation, triumph, love, hate, and everything in between.
“FOR THE FORTRESS! FOR GOLDENHOLD!”
A troll pushed through the crowd of goblins, stopping in front of the dwarf. They swung the axe in a flash of lightning, cutting it in half at the waist, they stepped over it’s remains casually, as if it was nothing. The whole goblin force took a step back.
And after ten steps of THEM walking towards the invaders, they started to flee, running, pushing, shoving. But even in their desperation, not a single one of the three thousand goblins that stood then would make it to the two massive gates. The stragglers were beheaded, a single swing seemed to kill twenty of their number.
He remained in silence at the bloodlust....
Stonehand woke up once more, walking out of the room, and out of the family compound to head to one place, his eyes solid gold, without pupils or whites. He was going to the forges.