Fate of Thorbardin
( Dwarf Home - 3 )
Douglas Niles
Douglas Niles
Fate of Thorbardin
PROLOGUE
A Treaty for the Ages Yet to Be Lived
This document, yet to be negotiated, shall be agreed upon between the Dwarves of the Mountains and the Dwarves of the Hills at the conclusion of the Tharkadan War. I, Gretchan Pax, Priestess of Reorx-He who is the Master of the Forge and the benign patron of all clans of dwarfkind-hereby vow upon my honor and my life to remain at the bargaining table and to hold here the principal negotiators until such time as the completed treaty shall be officially and irrevocably signed.
We representatives of the two mighty clans of the Dwarf Peoples meet in the great hall of Pax Tharkas. This vast chamber has only recently been scoured of the blood spilled in yet another futile and destructive war between our peoples. All acknowledge the tragedy of this long-held hostility among us, of which the Tharkadan War is only the most recent example.
Herewith and present, as the pact is documented and copied and secured, are the following notable representatives of the Neidar and Mountain Dwarves. Each will affix a signature as a personal pledge to honor this treaty. All are seated at the large, circular table in the center of the great hall, and each has pledged to represent his or her respective faction with truth, honor, and dignity:
For the Mountain Dwarves in Exile-
Tarn Bellowgranite, former king of Thorbardin and now the ruler of Pax Tharkas. At his right hand:
Otaxx Shortbeard, chief general among Tarn Bellowgranite’s garrison forces, and a lifelong follower, adviser, and compatriot of the former king.
Mason Axeblade, the field captain in direct command of the Tharkadan troops.
Tor Bellowgranite, the young son and chief heir of the Bellowgranite family, who will observe the proceedings as a proper introduction to the responsibilities of sovereignty and command.
For the Hill Dwarves of the Kharolis environs-
Slate Fireforge, descendant of that legendary clan and the righteous voice of reason who sought to prevent the war that his clansman were ensorcelled into commencing.
Axel Carbondale, Chief Captain of the Foothill Clan and now commander of the hill dwarf army.
To moderate this treaty, hearing the words of both parties and seeking to glean the wisdom and to cull the animosity from the participants, the following are agreed:
Crystal Heathstone, royal heir of the hill clans and wife of Tarn Bellowgranite, as such being the former queen of Thorbardin.
Gretchan Pax, humble cleric and most unworthy scribe. Also, the primary author of this document, though it is agreed that other voices shall make themselves known in these pages, with proper annotation.
For purposes of this treaty, the disputes addressed shall extend back to the time of the Cataclysm (sometimes called the First Cataclysm), during which the foundation for eternal war was so unfortunately laid.
It is our resolve, underlined by the authority of Reorx himself, that this agreement shall be regarded as a permanent renunciation of such misguided violence. That is, that war between mountain and hill dwarf shall not only cease for all time, but that the two nations shall agree to cooperate and assist each other by whatever means possible in striving toward the goal of a world that is secure for all dwarfkind.
(NOTE: Tarn Bellowgranite wishes to state, on behalf of the mountain clans, that it has long been his objective to attain such a goal. He has ever striven to avoid military conflict with the Neidar, he declares, and in fact has taken a Neidar woman for his wife these past many years. He has never authorized a military venture against the Neidar, he adds, and was plainly shocked when such a venture was directed against his own people in this hallowed place.)
(NOTE: Axel Carbondale wishes to respond, on behalf of the hill dwarves, that the Klar raiding parties that so frequently sallied forth from Pax Tharkas were under the authority, if not the direct command, of Tarn Bellowgranite. Axel queries how it is that these raiders were known, by proof and by witness, to return to Pax Tharkas with spoils gained from their attacks against the Neidar, and that no visible effort was made to punish them or to return said spoils to their rightful hill dwarf owners.)
(NOTE: Mason Axeblade wishes to note, on behalf of the military garrison of Pax Tharkas, that the Klar are notoriously difficult to control. Furthermore, their captain, Garn Bloodfist, is currently chained in the Tharkadan dungeon, charged with disobedience of his thane’s direct order.)
(NOTE: Crystal Heathstone, Neidar maid married into a mountain dwarf clan, wishes to suggest that such bickering is pointless and that perhaps it would be useful to allow Gretchan Pax to continue to moderate the negotiations.)
And thus the discussion and treaty-making resumes …
The story behind this proclamation commences with the Cataclysm and the wounds that were torn into the fabric of dwarf history even as that reign of destructive violence tore away at the flesh and the blood of the world itself. The world of Krynn was torn and ravaged by the vengeful might of the gods. Seas flooded formerly prosperous farmlands. Mountains rose where placid lakes and glens had once held pastoral sway. And the peoples of Krynn, human and elf and dwarf and all the rest, could only cower and seek shelter from the immortal onslaught.
What were the exact events of that dark storm? Today none may know for sure, but all have their beliefs. The hill dwarves claim that their mountain cousins sealed the gates of Thorbardin before them and ignored their frantic pleas for succor and protection. In the aftermath, more hill dwarves perished than can be counted among the stars in the sky.
The mountain dwarves claim that they offered that shelter willingly, that the gates were held open for as long as survival allowed. When none of their outside-dwelling kin presented themselves, the mighty portal was sealed. By the time such hill dwarves as had survived the initial catastrophe reached the gates of Thorbardin, there was no simple means of communication between the outside and underground worlds, and thus the plight of the exposed Neidar was for the most part unknown.
(NOTE: Slate Fireforge, on behalf of the hill dwarves, thinks that the latter explanation is disingenuous, er, “hogwash.”)
(NOTE: Tarn Bellowgranite, speaking for the mountain dwarves, wonders what magical enchantment exists in the ancestry of Slate Fireforge that he may know such a fact with any degree of accuracy.)
(NOTES, ad nauseam: The ancestry of a great many dwarf families is questioned, sometimes in distasteful specifics, by others present. The negotiations are suspended for a day of feasting and celebration.)
Upon resumption of the talks:
Whichever version of the story is true (and it should be noted that they are not mutually exclusive-G.P.), the result was a cultural scar that has not only lasted for many hundred years, but continued to fester and rot and inflict further damage as the years passed by. Within the century after the Cataclysm, the disputed history was distorted and expanded beyond all recognition by the cruel devastation of the Dwarfgate War, in which whole mountains were destroyed and the power of the villainous wizard Fistandantilus corrupted dwarves and men alike into a fever of murderous combat.
At the conclusion of that war, Thorbardin was bruised and battered and sealed against the world. The hill dwarves were shunned by their undermountain kin and left exposed to the vagaries of existence in an outside world controlled by humans and elves. The wounds of the Dwarfgate War, it is safe to say, created an infection that has never healed.
All gathered here can agree (in principle! No notes are required at this point.-G.P.) that it was this infection that left the hill dwarves vulnerable to the persuasions of the apparently stalwart Harn Poleaxe as he m
ade the case for a war against Pax Tharkas. All now see that Poleaxe was possessed of a dark, evil force, and it was this force that compelled him to march toward war. Because of the bitterness abiding in dwarf hearts, that compulsion was all too easily made real.
It was the protective eye of Reorx himself that prevented the war from rising to the level of catastrophe. For bitterness, hatred, and cruelty existed on both sides. All present admit observing the corruption of Harn Poleaxe when it was revealed by the light of the Forge. His control by a dark power was made manifest that day.
At the same time, all now know that it was the scheme of Tarn’s captain Garn Bloodfist, he of the Klar clan, to lure the entire attacking force of hill dwarves into Pax Tharkas-and hence, to crush them beneath a mountain’s weight of stones by releasing the massive trap within the ancient fortress. Contrary to the will of his king, Bloodfist nearly succeeded-until the presence of Reorx was made brilliant and true in this very hall, revealing the dark enchantment of the attacking hill dwarves and thwarting the Klar’s lethal plan through his most humble agent, the gully dwarf known as Gus Fishbiter.
(NOTE: Tarn Bellowgranite wishes it made known and recorded that Garn Bloodfist, in his efforts to release the trap, was acting in direct opposition to the orders of his thane.)
(NOTE: Axel Carbondale suggests the above note is irrelevant, as it was not the actions of the mountain dwarves that thwarted the mad Klar’s plan.)
(NOTE: Otaxx Shortbeard wishes all to know that he and his thane really, really tried to stop Garn Bloodfist.)
(NOTE: Crystal Heathstone suggests, yet again, that the negotiations resume under the auspices of Gretchan Pax.)
And so it shall be done:
Now, in the wake of the battle, on this floor scoured of blood, we strive for a pledge of peace. It is fitting that we make this effort in Pax Tharkas, for though it is a fortress in war, this mighty edifice was originally constructed as a symbol of lasting peace between diverse peoples.
Our goals are three and range from simple to complex.
FIRST, we declare that a state of peace exists between the exiled mountain dwarves who dwell in Pax Tharkas and the hill dwarves of the Kharolis Mountains. Any further raids, coercion, kidnapping, extortion, or other acts of violence between these two peoples are expressly forbidden and shall be punished by the combined might of two nations.
SECOND, the dwarves of Pax Tharkas shall grant free passage through their mountain pass to their kinfolk, the Neidar. The gates shall remain open, the road unblocked, and none shall require any toll or other charge be affixed to this passage. Hill dwarves who journey this way shall be accorded the comforts of any standard wayfarer’s house, including food, drink, and shelter at reasonable rates.
In addendum, there shall be no restrictions, tariffs, or undue taxes placed upon mountain dwarf merchants who wish to do business in the communities of the Neidar. Neither shall they be subjected to discriminatory rates when applied to such necessities as food, drink, and shelter.
THIRD concerns a goal for the future. For reference, it should be noted that the mountain dwarves in exile have been driven from Thorbardin by cruel repression. The fanatical thane Jungor Stonespringer used the person-and the life-of young Tor Bellowgranite, at the time a mere infant, as leverage to compel his father’s departure. Following that exile, the lone remaining gate of the kingdom, once known as the North Gate, was sealed, and it has nevermore been opened since that time.
Yet all agree that Thorbardin is the key to the future of all dwarfkind. The fate of Thorbardin is the fate of the dwarves themselves. It is hereby resolved that the current government of Thorbardin is false and illegitimate and that it shall be the goal of hill dwarf and mountain dwarf alike to restore the true high king-Tarn Bellowgranite or his heir-to the throne under the mountain.
Adding urgency to this objective, it has been reported that, within the sealed kingdom of Thorbardin, a bitter civil war currently rages between the forces of King Stonespringer and the rebel army of a powerful and wicked dark wizard.
(NOTE: Tarn Bellowgranite reminds all that the source of this information is the aforementioned gully dwarf, Gus Fishbiter. Further action in pursuit of this goal shall, therefore, be postponed until such time as the information can be affirmed by a reliable source.)
Thus be it agreed that, should that confirmation be attained, the dwarves exiled from under the mountain shall seek the assistance, in a military alliance, of the Neidar. The hill dwarves shall offer such assistance as is requested and adjudged to be reasonable given the resources available. The two great clans of dwarfkind, working in concert, shall seek to restore the ancient throne of Thorbardin and establish therein a realm where all clans, kin, and breeds of dwarf shall find themselves welcome. The benefits accrued from such a reinstatement shall be shared equally between the clans, with allowances for the proportion of resources committed and losses suffered during the campaign.
For many ages, we dwarves have been forced to look back in shame and to look forward in apprehension. Let it now be decreed that our ancient shame shall become our current wisdom and that Reorx shall will that our future apprehension turn, once and for all, into hope.
It is suggested by many that the person of Tor Bellowgranite be upheld as a perfect symbol of this hope. His father hails from a mix of two of Thorbardin’s great clans, while his mother traces her roots to the highest nobility of the Neidar. Thus, he may become a prince for all the dwarves, for all the ages.
Nor should it be assumed that this agreement was easily achieved or peacefully completed. All the signatories wish to note, with appreciation, the contribution of Gretchan Pax, priestess of Reorx, who served to moderate the debate and firmly kept the discussion focused and progressing.
Thus be it declared to all:
The future goal of both our peoples, the Neidar Hill Dwarves and the Mountain Dwarves in exile, is the reclamation of Thorbardin, once the greatest nation and proudest land in all the world of Krynn.
Signed,
Tarn Bellowgranite
Slate Fireforge
Otaxx Shortbeard
Mason Axeblade
Axel Carbondale
Crystal Heathstone
Tor Bellowgranite, (minor) witness
And
Gretchan Pax, priestess of Reorx
PARTI
ONE
FIRE IN THE HIVE
The horax hissed, its segmented body rearing high above the cavern floor as the arachnoid perched upon six rear legs. An equal number of forelegs thrashed menacingly, striking with hooked talons toward the monster’s tormentors. Two multifaceted eyes bulged from its melon-sized head, cold and dispassionate even as they reflected the light of several flaring torches. A pair of wicked mandibles thrashed before the monster’s mouth, wickedly cutting back and forth, slashing with enough strength to slice a man-or a dwarf-in two.
Three heavily armored dwarves advanced on the horax, shoulder to shoulder, protected by long, steel shields extending from floor to nose. Each fighter was further armored in plate mail, and each wore a simple steel cap that covered his scalp, ears, and forehead, with an additional flap jutting down to guard the nose. Three pairs of cold, calculating eyes studied the monster over the tops of the shields until, in unison, a trio of sharpened spikes thrust forward, piercing the monster at the juncture of its grotesque head and the first segment of its armored body. Thrashing wildly, the horax twisted away, easily sliding free of the unbarbed tips, but by the time it dropped to the cavern floor, it was dead.
“Excellent strike, men,” proclaimed Sergeant Tankard Hacksaw, stepping up behind the trio. His heavy hand came down to clap each of the dwarves, one after the other, on the shoulder, a blow that sent the young soldiers to staggering. Yet each seemed to swell, visibly warmed by the grizzled sergeant’s praise.
“And good drilling, Tank,” said Brandon Bluestone, coming down the narrow cavern behind the small company. “You’ve got them fighting like they’re guided by o
ne brain.”
“They are, Captain,” Hacksaw said with a hearty chuckle. “It’s my brain!”
The two dwarves stood for a moment, catching their breath, studying the broken, bleeding monster before them. Though each was a bearded dwarf girded for war, they were a study in contrasts. Brandon was tall, open-faced, and handsome, with flowing brown hair and a broad, if slightly cruel, smile. He carried a mighty battle-axe in his right hand; his grip was a foot below the head of the weapon for perfect balance.
Tankard, on the other hand, was short, and almost was wide as he was tall. His hair and beard were black, shot through with gray, and he grinned with the sheer joy of a warrior who loves to fight. His captain’s praise only made him smile all the more broadly.
But the jocularity was short-lived as Tankard stared over the shoulders of his men into the unseen depths of the winding tunnel. “How goes it with Morewood and the Second Company?” he asked.
“They’re making good progress too,” Brandon replied. “A little slower than you-they’ve passed a lot of side alcoves, and every one of ’em had a couple of horax lurking. It’s the standard ambush tactic; they don’t seem to realize that we’ve caught on to them. But we’re closing in on the hive from both directions.”
Captain Bluestone’s tone was grim, purposeful. He had stalked those deep tunnels only a few months earlier, alone and terrified, desperate to rescue his beloved Gretchan Pax from the webbing of a horax tangler. He had found her, and more, but with the blessing of Reorx, they had escaped with their lives, pursued by a hissing, clacking horde of the monstrous arachnoids. Now he had returned with a small army of his fellows, and it was his determined intention that it would be the horax who would be fleeing-those that were fortunate enough to survive the onslaught of dwarves.
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