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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1442465
This is the story of an ancient war that is effecting the people of a fantasy world today.
In the very earlist age of this world the dwarves came first into this land, from the east they came, from a place that no map shows. By mountain pass they entered this realm and not from across the sea of Davin as did the elves and, far later, men.
Already the dwarves were masters of metal craft, forging, and at mining also. They used their skills to build mighty cities beneath the mountains of Cel-Dalas, for such was their custom and their favoured place for settlement. As all men know dwarves like not to look upon the open sky.
Long years did this process of construction take and when they had finished the dwarves were proud of their works, and rightly so. Cities like those of the dwarves would not be seen upon the surface of the earth until the Galda Urkal, the golden age of the elves.
When at last their cities were fully raised in glory the dwarves forsook the land under sky and left only farms, pastures and hunting posts upon the surface. The dwarves who worked to feed their people were few but they worked hard and never did the dwarves face starvation in the early years of their settlement in the mountains of Cel-Dalas.
With their subterranean realm complete the dwarves delved furthur into the mountains, and deeper. Many were the wonders they unearthed and they became the first of all the races of this world to know of gold, of silver and of diamonds.
Now when the dwarves beheld these things they were gripped by fervour and sought ever more urgently and derperately for them. Indeed the dwarves spoke of little else and so perhaps it is reasonable that their words for the precious stones and metals they found, galda, silvarra and diameld, were transcribed directly into the tongue of the elves and are the basis for our term's for them.
After a century living beneath the mountains an excavator, by the name of Durngost the Ill-Fated, found something that would forever change the world. It was a gem, larger and more handsome then any the dwarves had found before or have discovered since.
It was green in colour and Durngost coveted it. He saw that the gem had power, so much power, and he called it Griscal, the Conqueror. For Durngost felt that with it he could never be beaten in any endeavour.
He left the tunnel in which he worked and ignored the bewildered looks of those who toiled with him. They would suffer for theit foolishness, he promished silently, they who had mocked him for his weakness and his stature, which was short even for a dwarf.
Durngost went to the Hall of the High-King of the dwarf clans and in that place of power he did challenge Fagran the Mighty, ruler of the dwarves, the representative of the Gods on earth and the mightiest warrior who ever walked upon the world.
All dwarves mocked Durngost then, for how could such a weakling slay Fagran in ritualistic single combat for the throne of the High-King and the power that went with it. Second only to that of the Gods.
This taunting made Durngost furious and hate-filled and he vowed that those who had had the impertinence to laugh at him would learn to regret their actions and their words which dug into him like icy shards.
Every dwarf knew that Durngost would be slain by the fierce blows of Fagran's axe, Mithgor, the Slayer. And armed with this knowledge few dwarves came to see the battle between Durngost and Fagran for surely it would be a slaughter.
Alas however it was not so, Fagran was the one who was felled. It is said in the Ak Makrasa, the most detailed and accurate history of the dwarven race, that their fight lasted from dawn until dusk and the relentless strokes could be heard by miners digging many leagues away. Though doubtless untrue there can be no denying that it was an epic fight.
Durngost was hailed High-King of the dwarves the next day and thus began his reign. Long and brutal were the years of his leadership and when the elves came from the west he sought lordship and dominion over them and an extension of his autocratic power. Many battles were fought and high were the losses on both sides.
After nearly five score years the elves had pushed back the dwarves into the mountains. There many skirmishes were fought and in one such confrontation Durngost was attacked by Eladrial, the elven emperor, and with Griscal set in the pommel of his sword Durngost came close to slaying his foe.
And just as he raised his blade in triumph he was stabbed from behind by Hadrak, one of his own general's. Hadrak had grown weary of living under the yoke of tyranny and with the fabled Mithgor he cleaved the body of his monarch in twain.
Hadrak became the leader of the dwarves, for all of his race were grateful and readily forgive him of the crime of killing their High-King and with Eladrial he forged a peace accord, the Treaty of Valo. It was decided then to bury the gem, now called Sarakin, the Doom Bringer, for it was known that Sarakin brought corruption and death and that it tainted the mind and the body of any who handled it.
Yet for all that they could not destroy Sarakin and so it was buried. But lo after three ages and ten thousand years the gem was unearthed and as its history is now obscured the rulers of this land the lands beyond descend on the mountains of Cel-Dalas seeking it and warring against all those who stand in their path to claim it for the glory of their nation.


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