Dietrich is obviously taken about. This loud, doom prophet of ale, who spoke so loudly, who made assumptions so clearly, was also the closest to the point of any he had encountered. "My apologies, for I have misjudged you. I assumed you to be another loud, boisterous dwarf who wanted nothing but glory and riches. But what you have said, though not entirely correct, is closer to the heart of the issue than most of the dwarves who have sought the restoration of Dammerhall since it was lost. You are right, the thing which stole the soul can not be defeated by taking Dammerhall, but by understanding why it was lost." The shock slowly subsides as Dietrich begins to view the two dwarves in a different light.
"Maybe there is hope here after all."
Ever the storyteller, ever the teacher, Dietrich doesn't miss the chance to correct and to retrain a willing student, "However, what is spreading is not the dwarven doubt, that has already spread and infected every member of the once proud race. What makes time grow short is that a different kind of darkness is spreading, that is of chaos unchecked and out of control, it is the evil of the deep, the nightmares of the gods. I am guessing that some of you," he says speaking to the dwarves, but his eyes flick over to the gnome a table away as well as the silent elf whose presence still was unexplained, "Have already experienced first hand the evil and darkness that has broken free. The dwarves of Dammerhall had the great task, and the mighty purpose of keeping that darkness at bay, of holding it in check, and they did it admirably. But when Dammerhall was lost, so was the dwarven confidence in their purpose. Doubt, as you say, crept in, and it sent dwarves scurrying to the surface, or taking to hiding behind their walls, all the while, that which was once controlled and imprisoned, has now broken free."
Smiling to himself, he changes his tone completely, and says cheerfully, "But here I am, bantering with them whom I know not. My name is Dietrich, and I am a storyteller as you have already heard. Before we can continue this conversation, I must know whom I speak with." His face creases into a smile as he looks at the dwarves with whom he is speaking.
"I'm Skygge Mokai, an apprentice in my hometown, Kraggodan, but I seek to unravel greater mysteries than those present there. And I'll bet the darkness you speak of and the shadow I refer two are the same, master Elf. There is no other option." He raises his mug and takes a long sip!
Dietrich raises his own mug of ale and drinks as well. "Well met young Skygge Mokai. I do not recognize the name, which I must say doesn't happen very often, so I must ask, how far back do your ancestors go? Did they always live in Kraggodan?"
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Somewhat dismayed by the dwarves talk of losing their souls, and shadows looing over them, Gumar is nevertheless surprised to hear a dwarf call his own people "Stubborn." He cannot help smiling to himself, well, that's a compliment coming from a dwarf, I must say. He thinks to himself. It has been centuries since Dammerhall was lost, though, and no reports of the black flames have ever been heard again. I don't agree that it's going to be happeniing again and again; there's no sign that it well ever happen again and there is no reason why the dwarves cannot simply rebuild their shattered society without having to reclaim dammerhall first. I doubt if they'll see it that way, though. They're the ones who are stubborn, not us svirfneblin. We're just pragmatic.
The silent elf smiles at his brethren, an easy, familiar grin "Well Darnietalathal, it seems once more your stories have stoked the fire in the souls of the young. Its nice to see some things haven't changed in the last hundred and twenty five years"
"As much as I know, yes! I was born in Kraggodan, and I'm pretty young, so I wouldn't know much, specially cause my Mother would not speak much about it, and father... well, we speak the same things, but not in the same language. So I must admit I know more about other's history, including Dammerhall, than my own family's history. I love Kraggodan, but the city was driving me mad, so..."
Dietrich takes a swig of ale and gulps it down with absolutely no outward sign of the burning in his throat that almost made him throw the stuff up the first time he had taken a drink. More than 200 years in and around the dwarves had taught him both how to drink, as well as how to appreciate a fine dwarven ale in a way that many elves would find distasteful. But then again, much about Dietrich would cause many an elf a second glance. As he sets his mug down, he is shocked, not just that the elf who had been sitting there spoke, but that he spoke that name, his name, "My name..."
Dietrich can't help but stare for a moment at the elf. He saw a male, somewhere in mid life. He would guess that he had seen more than a century of adulthood, but yet, still he maintained much of his youthful appearance and sylvan perfection. But more than that, those eyes, that voice, he knew this elf. "It has been many years since I have heard that name, only myself remembering that name once a year as is, and yet you know it and call me rightly by it. Who..." His voice trails off as he looks at those eyes, and his mind quickly recalls his time as an emissary for Kyonin after the fall of Dammerhall.
A time of great mourning in the Darnietalathal's heart and soul, a time when he would visit the dwarven city states, and spent more time comforting them then he did advising them or building relations with them. It was a time of great distress, when his security was doubled whenever he went underground, a time when danger found them more than once and when.... he caught his breath, and was quickly brought back to the present. "It couldn't be." As he spoke, he got up, as quickly as an elf who has seen close to 4 centuries can, and moved toward the unnamed stranger. "The last time I saw you, you must have been no more than a century and a half. Look at you now, Ariael, my old friend. Forgive me for not seeing it sooner, but it has been many years since these old eyes of mine have seen an elf of any kind, let alone a friendly one." He bows his head and then moves to embrace his old student.
When he draws away, he can't help but ask, "It is good to see you, but why have you come here of all places and at all times?"
As he stares into the face of his former student and guard, he realizes that the others, at least the dwarf Skygge, had continued his conversation. He turns to him and quickly apologizes, "Forgive me rudeness and lack of matters young Skygge, but it has been more than a hundred years since I last saw my friend here, and I must admit, I didn't expect to see his face again till the afterlife had taking me. Let me introduce you to one of the finest elven warriors I have ever met, Ariael Lafali."
Ari chuckles "I was wondering how long it would take you to recognize me. I was worried your eyes had finally went" He says with good-natured teasing.
"As to why I am here, I reside more or less in Nirmathas now, albeit I'm more of a nomad. I tend to circulate between Tamran, into the Fangwood, or often under it, and on into Skelt. Just so happens that my timing landed me here for this caravan to show."
Laughing, Dietrich smiles and says, "My eyes haven't gone nearly as far as my mind. Why, just last week I forgot which room I was staying in an in Inn a day's travel south of here. Poked my head in to a mister and a misses... well, you get the picture." Dietrich just shakes his head as if he is trying to get the image out of his mind, "You left Kyonin? Why did you leave the homeland, and what does Nirmathas hold for you that keeps you here?"
He smiles back "At first, it was just to wander, and see new sights. Ya know, beyond the mostly dwarven ones you took me to." He says chuckling. "So I took a ship from Greengold bound for Tamran. Of course, shortly after I landed, another attack was launched by Molthune, and I help fight them off. I made a lot of good friends that week, especially after I took out three attackers with arrows to the eye in one day. Apparently, that ties a town record held by only a handful of their best warriors." He's seems quite proud of this accomplishment.
"I stayed for about five months after that helping rebuild, till a caravan was headed through the Fangwood and needed an extra guard. Signed up and found my way to Skelt eventually. That was around seventy five years ago, and I've found Nirmathas to be quite fitting to my temperament and outlook. Of course, there's also been plenty of excursions to the Darklands which have kept things exciting, fighting of the Drow and their allies."
"Gosh, you are all so old!"
Dietrich mused, "The Drow is it? Didn't I warn you about your obsession with them. They are dangerous Ariael, stay away from them Ariael. Maybe I am just being forgetful again, but I seem to remember having to say those things an awful lot when we traveled together. I guess it makes sense that you would wind up here now then, given the part they have played in the darklands shadows." He says that last part looking back to Skygge, as if he finally remembered there were others there and they had just been in the middle of heavy conversations themselves. But Skygge responds to his implied invitation not with more heavy conversation but with a simple observation.
"Ha! You say that like it is a bad thing. And I am not old, I am just a bit more decomposed than you young dwarf. But I count my blessings, knowing that entirely too many in this life never get to experience the painful joints and the blurring vision."
"I'm not obsessed with them, I am just a bit more driven than most when it comes to them" He says in a near echo of his mentor, grinning.
He then gets serious "Is there something new going on in the Darklands? I arrived just yesterday afternoon"
Dietrich, with a wave of his hand, turns his old companion's attention to the dwarves he was sitting with. "I don't know about anything new, maybe just more of the same, except it is further than ever. Though that grouchy gnome could probably give you a run down, seems like he has had some trouble." He says with a shrewd glance at the gnome who has obviously been listening to the entire conversation. "He wouldn't join at the invitation that I offered him, maybe direct contact will convince him to join in our discussion..."
"But as far as the Darklands are concerned, Janderhoff remains as isolated as ever, Kravenkus cut me off 50 years ago, is even worse. The dangers of the deep find no resistance, so they spread out even more. With no dwarves to patrol the underdark, it will soon be too much for even the great walls of the dwarven city-states to hold back. Thats why Kraggodan sent the caravan, ole Toriah Stonebeard finally made the decision to reestablish some relations with the surface world, in an effort to gain some support when the inevitable time comes that they need it. He is a wise ruler, but he is stubborn as all get out, but then again, thats one of the reasons I love the dwarves." Turning to Skygge and the dwarf apparently named Ancian and he adds, "Well boys, is that the long and the short of it, or did I leave anything out?"
"Well, kind of. You just forgot to mention that we have to do something about it. The darklands will not shrink if we just defend ourselves, but just the opposite. If we do not advance our domains, the enemy will do. For them to get the last remaining cities is just a matter of time now, but there's hope. As they are going farther and farther away from the core of their civilization, their defending power get lowered, and some deeper hideouts might be already forgotten or abandoned by them, as is Dammerhall. There's no time better them now to seek that mystery and solve it. You might be experienced enough to help in a little project of communication at a distance, Dietrich. That is, if you want, of course."
Dietrich looks slightly annoyed at the dwarf and says, "Young Skygge, I didn't neglect to mention that we needed to do something about it, I just assumed that two centuries worth of doing exactly that implied the need and urgency without have to mention it, but with that being said, yes, something does need to be done. The question is what is the right move, and how does one go about making that right move." He finally moves back to his seat and sits down before he realizes he forgot something, "Wait, I might be experienced enough... I am more experienced than many of the rocks you call home. What little project are you thinking of?"
"Well, as you said, people have been trying to solve the mystery of Dammerhall for two centuries now, and we have no real reports on any progress regarding that. No one ever returned from it. I've researched about spells that let you communicate with others, regardless of the distance, and I plan on using that to update Kraggodan and maybe the surface on our progress." He lifts his shoulders. "In case the worst happen, our cause was worth something, as they know where we stopped, and probably what happened to us, allowing the next group to take over from where we stopped. If we had done this since the beginning we would have much to start with right now."
"Anyway, although I have an idea of how the spells works I am not versed enough in magic to be able to do it. Specially since I've split my time in two different fronts. Aside from the weird things that happens near me."
And indeed his hair seems to be carried by the wind for just a second, although there is no wind inside the building.
Skygge replies in equal tone, knowing the Svirfneblin personality all too well by now. "If we achieve nothing it will still inspire our society with our valiant efforts, but in best case scenario we will retake Dammerhall. If we end up dead it would be a pity, but you won't recall any major event in history where there weren't countless of deaths. Of course, I don't expect you to understand Gumar, as all you want to do is to sit on a chair and wait for your death without doing anything meaningful. You don't get to be a dangfool, sorry."
"Dying for something is always preferable to dying for nothing." Ari says, looking at the gnome for the first time.
"But, I wouldn't expect one of your kind to understand that..
Having everyone starting to exclude the poor Svirfneblin, he actually feels pity for him. "Well, let's not be so harsh with him. He's seen much more than I did, and his spirit is broken. Can't blame the man for that."
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"Dying is dying, it don't make no difference if it's for somethin' or nothin'. Only if you actually achieve something with your death is it meaningful, and what would you achieve by dying? I am sure the Drow are quaking in their boots at the thought that you are dying in search of lost glories and dead kingdoms. meanwhile the rest of us have to actually face them, rally our communities; build our alliances; patrol our territory. Theres nothing in this quest but meaningless death, and when you are gone, our people will still be fighting the Drow and building our world. Maybe my spirit is broken; but I can't let my people die while I go off on some dangfool quest to nowhere. I know the Drow. I know what they can do and what it will cost; I know how to beat them , I done it once already, and I'm telling you, we can defeat them. Won't be easy, mind; but we don't need no long-lost dwarf city to do it. And we don't need no dangfool trek through the darklands neither. Just good old fashioned alliances and the willingness to fight together."
Skygge's ears pick up the word 'fighting' in the Svirfneblin's speech. "Fighting, you said? A moment ago you were telling me how you wished to live and die in the comfort of your own house! Tell us more about it, then, what do you propose?"
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"It's simple enough. An alliance. Dwarf and Gnome and Orc and Hobgoblin and anyone we can get who will join us. Anyone who stands to lose from the drow. We work together, build together and fight together. No more We dwarves will hold them back or we gnomes can do it or we orcs can defeat them. We've been iving like that for years, and all they've done is divide us up and conquer us. One by one our tribes, our burrows, our cities fall. If you like, we can make it a New Dammerhall, a better one: not just a dwarven one, not just a gnome one or an orc one but one where all are welcome and can trade freely. We gnomes can work stone like no other; we can turn it to clay and grow mushrooms on it, or dig it out for minerals and gems; you dwarves can build in it like no other; noone diputes an Orc's ferocity or a Hobgoblin's Military prowess; each has their own strengths, but alone they are not enough. Only when we work together will we be able to overcome. The irony is, that's exactly what the drow make us do - work together. I've seen them all: Dwarf, Gnome, Orc, Hobgoblin; all working together. That's the real secret of the Drow's strength. They beat you down and break you. Then they rebuild you into something that is greater than the sum of it's parts. What they do forcefully, we must learn to do willingly. Then we will be a power they cannot defeat."
Suddenly Ariael laughs, a musical sound emanating from him "You think that because you've beaten the Drow once, you are some sort of expert on them? I've been fighting and winning against the drow for over fifty years now. All you're suggesting is to make a nice big target for the dark elves and their allies to destroy. Congratulations, with your plan, you have just become a mass murder of hundreds, possibly thousands of innocents."
He turns to his old mentor " No need to seek an enemy underground, we have the biggest threat to the dwarves and their allies right here at our table."
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"and how has your expertise stopped them? can you defeat them singlehandedly? nice big target, maybe, but one that fights back. Or are you saying that we should just give up? lie down and wait to be captured? or carry on as we have been? fighting as individual cities, tribes and burrows? 'cos that's worked really well hasn't it?"
Skygge makes a weird face when listening to Gumar. Secretly he's wondering how crazy the Svirfneblin is, or if he have a multiple personality disorder. "You don't look like the Gumar I spoke with, Svirfneblin. Anyway, your plan will not work. Our civilizations will not work together on the large scale. They do not see it as you or I do, but instead will live isolated from the rest, and perish alone. By the way, are you high?"
He scrutinizes you slowly, serious.
"Well, if you must know. I have stopped over a dozen caravans from being robbed. Their goods helped other towns prosper. I was able to take out more assault teams that were going to attack various settlements before they struck than I can count. Was this all single handed? No, of course not, but I have made a difference. Tell me grey gnome, what have you done in your two hundred and twenty five years of life, that comes close to matching what I have accomplished?"
Dietrich, the center of this conversation up until this point, relishes in the chance to sit back and observe his companions for the evening. Ariael his friend and his student from so long ago, arguing from a point of disdain, Skygge, his new acquaintance, who seems to desire to take back Dammerhall for the right reasons, but the means doesn't seem to have connected yet. Ancian, the surface dwarf, who hadn't spoken in awhile, and then this dark gnome, Gumar. His attitude earlier indicated he wanted no part, that he was running from his past, but his words now, indicated something radically different, as if he knows he can't leave his past behind him forever. "I didn't expect this kind of fight out of him," he says, speaking softly and to himself.
As the argument goes on, and they begin to cycle back to their first arguments to reuse them again, Dietrich slowly raises himself up, moves to an adjacent table, and kicks over two of the chairs, as he perches himself on its surface. When he spoke, it wasn't just the voice of an aging elf, it was a powerful and deep voice of stone and metal, carrying the mountains on their shoulders for eons.
Two thousand years ago, the underdark was a place of chaos, fear, and evil. Thieves, brigands, and mercenaries filled the edges of its space, hiding in the solace of its darkness, but terrified of the horrors that lied deeper in. In the depths of the underdark were the monsters of ages gone by. Orcs by the legion, trolls roving in bands, and goblins who feasted on the flesh of their enemies were the ranks, but they weren't the true terrors. Devils and demons, evil personified, giants of stone, and living darkness all had territory in the underdark. Because the underdark itself had so many entrances to the surface, every nation, and every people, occasionally experienced its fear and evil. For generations previous, the world was content to live this way, pretending everything was fine on top, while a tempest of chaos and evil raged just beneath the surface."
"At least, it was that way until a dwarf from the mountains at the Edge of the World came to unite his people. Dammer Stormhammer spoke from a past of pain, and place of loss. His entire family had been killed in one fell swoop when the darkness erupted forth from below. His entire tribe had perished, he was one of 4 survivors who all had been away hunting mountain goats together. He spoke of the terrors he had seen when he returned, of the pain that had been caused, and he called for every human, dwarf, and elf to respond. The humans, being so numerous, could spare a town here or there when the evil erupted forth, didn't pay much mind. A few willing volunteers, and some supplies, that was all. The elves did not fair much better, sending a 100 rangers and scouts, but the promise of no more. It was a task left to the dwarves alone. It did not take long before they had made headway, clearing out the caves and catacombs around the entrance to the underdark. With each victory relayed back to the surface, more dwarves swarmed to his ranks. He was a brilliant strategist, a heroic fighter, he was the epitome of everything dwarven."
"After clearing out the outskirts, he moved into the heart of the under dark. He decimated legions of goblins, orcs, and trolls. His legions destroyed stone giants, and made the geysers of Cor'mul red with the blood of the Drow. With each victory, he freed more than he had defeated. Duegar who had been born into captivity, Svirfneblin by the thousands had been enslaved made to work for the evil overlords. What shocked the legions of Stormhammer, wasn't the conditions, or the fact that the monstrous ones who resided and claimed this darkness as their kingdom had captives, it was the way the captives reacted. There was one or two who when freed, when run away, but the vast majority of those who had been enslaved all their live finally had a chance to do what they dreamed of every time they closed their eyes, they had the chance to fight back."
"Soon, the legions were so intermixed with those who had been freed, it was hard to tell that the legions themselves had ever suffered a loss in their campaign. In fact, by the time they reached the bridge leading into what was then called Gar'untal, the armies of Dammer Stormhammer were double that of the size of the army entering the under dark. The very idea of attacking darkness, of defeating evil and of driving it back into the deepest of prisoners was a powerful draw, and soon, even the reluctant humans and elves were sending reinforcements to this quest they had once scoffed at."
"But the final battle, the most glorious battle of the campaign came at that terrible place known as Gar'untal. It was the lair of a blackhearted dragon named Deathsmoke, who had denizens of evil under his control. The battle was ferocious, the storming of the bridge cost a legion alone, and once into the underground island stronghold itself, the losses didn't let up. Thousands on both sides lost their lives, but the battle finally ended, when a young Svirfneblin, named Tark Mudslinger saved the life of Dammer Stormhammer by slaying the dragon Deathsmoke, when he pierced the dragons brain while standing on its tongue."
"With their master's death, the hordes of evil retreated, and the dwarves begin to build an empire and a kingdom that would ensure, that no tempest of chaos that strong would ever rage again. On the sight of Gar'untal, which had been utterly destroyed and completely leveled, surface dwarf, Duegar, and Svirfneblin worked side by side to build what became known as Dammerhall. But do not think that the dwarves got all the glory. For I have visited the king of Dammerhall in his palace, and on my first visited I was told its name. Tarkan Hall. Named for the Svirfneblin who won the battle and the honor that day."
Taking a deep breath, he looks from face to face before he says, "You see, both of you are suggesting the correct path. It is not an either/or solution, but rather a both/and solution. Dammerhall of old, in its glory, was not a city of the dwarves, it was a city of freedom and a city of justice in the under dark. Not an island anymore, but the center for good in a place that had known far too much evil. In its homes lived dwarves, duegar, Svirfneblin, humans, elves, hobgoblins, orcs and more. Anyone who was dedicated to the purpose of containing, of imprisoning the darkness, was welcome inside that great city. Dammerhall is as much an ideal as it is a place, but it is an ideal that needs not just one race or two, but every race to bond together for the common good of all. But as has been said, and has been tried, building a new Dammerhall hasn't worked, the place, the symbol of such a powerful ideal is needed, as much as the ideal itself. To curb the growing chaos, and to contain the tempest once more, Dammerhall must be restored, and it needs more than just dwarves to take it back."
He pauses once more as he stoops to pick up the chairs he knocked over, and as he sits himself back into his own chair, he ends his story by saying simply, "It is good that you want to fight against the darkness, against the shame of a people losing its identity, against evil that has oppressed and afflicted, but you must first know who your enemy is. You talk and you fight as if the enemy is one another" he says with a glance at Ariael, "but the enemy isn't in here, the enemy is the one out there, slowly devouring what little light is left in the underdark until soon it will be too late to do anything about it." And with that, the old elf sighs, takes a swig of ale, and leans back in his seat.
"That, my old friend, was a fantastic story, and it speaks to my point. Dammerhall didn't sit back in his home and wait for his enemies to come to him, he sought them out, drove them back, defeated them in their home. Which seems like what our friends are saying here. Except this time, the enemy is perhaps a lot more intangible and certainly more unknown."
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"and my point is, we must work together. When I was first a slave of the Drow, each race kept to themselves. Things were pretty bad, lots of infighting and deaths, and the Drow were unhappy with our continual inefficiency and made examples of many."
"Then one day some topside dwarves came. The Drow put them with the Deep dwarves, who begrudgingly accepted them. When they had learned to speak Undercommon, they started reaching out to us Gnomes; things improved for us then as we had dwarves looking out for us as well as our own; in return we were able to help the Dwarves in the tasks we were assigned. Soon the Hobgoblins realised that we were on to something and were persuaded to work with us, and finally the Orcs came around. For the first time, I had hope that I might survive. It encouraged me to seek to escape."
"Now, you say that Dammerhall has caused the Dwarves to lose their soul. I say No, it's still there; but it's divided. The Deep Dwarves, they have the stubborn pride that makes your people endure any hardship. The surface Dwarves; they have the ability to reach out to others, to make alliances and friendships; only when they are together are they as they should be and only then will we be able to make a New Dammerhall."
"Now as to seeking them out, yes he did. he went where there was trouble and sought to overcome it. But I say, we don't need to go seeking trouble; it laps at our feet and seeks to overwhelm us. We can't expect to go to their home unless we first drive them from ours. Dammer Stormhammer started in his home, but his home was only occasionally affected by the dangers of the Underdark. Our homes are already in it. Dammer Stormhammer had to seek out his enemies, but our enemies will seek us out."
Ariael very pointedly looks to Gumar, Skygee, Ancian, and finally his forner teacher "Come together and work towards a united, common purpose you say? Such as the five of us, representing four races, seeking the answers to the mystery of Dammerhall? Really, you shouldn't make this so easy for me"
"A magnificent story, as I've never read alike." He thanks Dietrich for sharing it, and, finding no traces of unusual mushrooms on the Svirfneblin's plate, assumes it must have been a real change of mind. Better be careful with that.
"I agree we need to protect our homes, Gumar, but we can't wait. If we wait for the enemy to come, we will be playing under their terms, when they want. We must take the game to them, and seek the advantage in the surprise it will cause. They are certainly not expecting it. But I see we're getting into an understanding, here. Perchance are we decided to go after this mystery?"
Dietrich laughs at his former student and shakes his head. "The four of you" he corrects him pointedly emphasizing the words. "I am but an old storyteller, whose purpose is this: to stir in the hearts of many the dream of something better, and to give it some purpose and direction. What they do with it, and the name they make for themselves, is up to them, for I don't offer much in combat, and I would only slow them down in moments where haste might be required."
"Together though, together you could be very strong indeed" he muses as he leans back in his chair.
Ari chuckles at the correction "Oh come now, you weren't that slow on our last trip together, when those orcs ambushed us . Besides, if you think you have great stories now, imagine the tales you'll be able to weave about the taking back Dammerhall!" He says with that same boyish grin Dietrich will definitely recall from their time together. Especially since it usually came as it did right before some spectacular trouble.
Dietrich laughs, "I remember when those orcs ambushed us. They were yelling in common, "forget the old one, his bones are tired, that young one looks tasty!" But my boy, that was what, 150 years ago, even for us elves that is enough to take the edge off of one's first step." He said smiling again.
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"Oh, no! you're not getting me traipsing off into the Darklands on some dangfool quest without any proper plan. Going off half cocked will just get you killed. Besides, I've given enough for now. I'm going home. Or what's left of it. Find some young goggle-eyed gnome who swallows your dangfool rhetoric to follow you to your doom. Me, I'm going home to plan a proper alliance. When your all dead, I'll still be alive and following through on my plan. But I'll think you all from time to time - just to remind me what a dangfool idea it all was."
The elf can't help but laugh some more "My friend, your brain must be addled. That was only seventy five years or so ago this summer."
Skygge smiles with the situation. They certainly seem like a weird group, but there was more. The Svirfneblin certainly had some mental illness, the old elf had memory problems, the dwarf was kind of addicted and desperate, while Skygge would not even think about his own illness... Maybe the other elf was ok... maybe...
"Well, it seems we're all tired of the travel, and maybe a rest would do us good. Tell you what, why don't we rest and meet tomorrow morning for breakfast, so we can continue this conversation about our dangfool quest? Maybe we will get some new recruits by the morning, and decide what's our next step..."
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"Heh. I know what my next step is. I'm heading for Fasturvalt. I spent so long trying to get there, now my journey's nearly done. But for once, the Dwarf is correct. I get grouchy when I'm tired, so I think I'll find my way to bed. At least the great light seems to have gone. How can you topsiders stand it? a roofless world with a great light. You must all be crazy."
Skygge laughs. "Does that means you're always tired?"
Dietrich ignores his miscalculating friend, and laughs at the banter between Skygge and Gumar. "The grumpiness might be cured by a lullaby my friend, I am sure Skygge here could lull you to sleep quickly." Laughing he stands up slowly and sighs, and moves toward the door. "Old as I am, I still don't need as much sleep as you dwarves do, I am going to check on the caravan, I will see you all in the morning."
Ancian stays quiet during the discussion following his outburst. He had never done anything like that in his life. As Skygge spoke of his Homeland and Ariael reconnected with his old teacher, Ancian sat, clutching his book of ancient prayers.
Father, as you made me, keep me strong,
and let never my honor fade
Let my iron will never rust or tarnish
and my shield deflect their every blade.
He listened to the same story he had heard 100 times growing up, of Stormhammer's conquest, smiling. What his Nana would say if she knew what he was setting off to do.
Father, as you made me, keep me strong
through firing and forge.
Unyielding and unbreakable,
Guide my hammer through the horde
He is shocked to hear Gumar speak of teamwork and even more so almost consider the task. Though it is not long before weariness takes them and the conversation dies down, with no true resolution.
Father, as you made me, keep me strong;
before your might my foes will cower
Let your blessing be my armor
and your word fill me with power.
As everyone starts to wander away, Ancian slowly gets up from his chair, still gripping his book, and says wistfully, "Then that settles it, we'll leave within a fortnight", he lets out a hearty laugh. "I guess I'll see you all in the morning, goodnight."
He turns and takes a new seat at the bar and orders a final ale, before retiring to his room and falling asleep.
The group talks for hours, long after the sun goes down, until the light of the tavern is burning a hole into the dark fabric of night. As they one by one filter from the bar to their rooms, exhausted from the journey and excitement, they cannot help but feel like something important has happened, as though they are on the edge of adventure. While some are hoping that sleep may get such ideas out of their heads, other are certain to lie awake for a time, imagining what the future may hold.
As the others prepare for bed, Dietrich finds himself outside, walking towards the closed-down caravan carts. Though they have been offered beds at the inn for no cost (as yet another sign of good faith from the town), many of the dwarves remain outside, savouring the black of night.
Even though there is surely no threat here, the caravans have been circled for protection, and the group of dwarves sit in the middle with a small fire, drinking and laughing. Drogic looks up with an enormous smile when Dietrich approaches between the wagons, pulling a pipe from his lips and wasting no time in teasing the old elf. "Can't sleep? Looks like you've spent too many years underground, old friend. Has a tendency to get you all turned about."
Dietrich makes his way out into the darkness outside the inn. he moves towards the caravan and the light dancing from the fire that is sure to be in the center of the dwarven wagons. As he clears the circle of wagons and steps into the light, he smirks as he is greeted by Drogic. "So it is true, dwarves really do have minds of stone, either that or you have fallen one too many times down a mine shaft and have forgotten that we elves don't need near the sleep as you dwarves do," he says with a mock face of haughty pride.
He then turns to Drogic and jokes, "and yet, my cantankerous old self sleeps less than most elves anyway, maybe it is because I have spent too much time underground. I like that answer better than I am just getting old and my eyes will soon miss the light, day or night." Laughing quietly, he asks, "So tell me about the journey my friend? Any news worth telling?"
Drogic smiles politely at his friend's joke, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, which burn like coals into the night. The dwarf knows that he hasn't a chance of living anything near as long as the elf does - His life had been hard, as had the lives of all dwarves for the past few centuries, and he expects it to end at any time.
When Dietrich asks about the journey, his smile fades further. "Not much to say, I'm afraid." he replies gruffly, speaking as much to Dietrich as anyone who would listen, clearly still annoyed by the rumour-mongering earlier. "Just a couple of Skis'Raal. Could have been a scout group, or outcasts." He shrugs. "They got away before we could deal with them."
"Quick little buggers." he mutters, shaking his head before explaining further. "The dwarf we lost was young, overwhelmed by being outside the walls. Could have happened to near anyone." His eyes brighten and he nods to the caravans. "Trade here at least seems to be going well, we ought to be more prepared on the trip back to deal with such nuisances." He cocks his head to the side. "Why do you ask old friend? Fancying another trip into the Dark?"
Dietrich nods, along with his friend as he tells of the trip. "So only one was lost? Good, I feared that damage might have been worse." He smiles as his friend jokes about his travel plans.
"Drogic, you know better than most that I spend more time in the underdark, than I probably do on the surface. But visiting Kraggodan or Janderhoff isn't the same as heading into the lost territory. I don't know if I have it in me for another such journey." He sighs, and looks at his friend and says softly, "I am tired my friend, when do you think the next generation will be ready to fill our shoes? I wouldn't mind a chance to sit in a rocking chair next to that cave retreat your parents had by the Geyers of Cor'mul."