A poem about the life and death of Ogrimbal, first of the Dwarf-kings. |
Ogrimbal was the first dwarf king in the world, one of the strongest of his kind and founder of the first dwarven city, Dyn-Gholos, thought by many to be the first city in the world. While Dyn-Gholos became a city of immense proportions and prosperity, darkness took it during first demon war, when Ogrimbal was old and failing. He fell in the defence of his home. This verse recounts part of the life of Ogrimbal just before his end, and his death. It is part of the tome known as the Drugir veros do-Drugabar, or in the common tongue the Dwarf Verses of the Fallen. By torch-lit roads under mountain grey In grand halls were peace held sway There sat our king, his crown of gold Of jewels grander than in stories told The hammers struck and embers blazed And songs were sung and pints were raised In name of king, and name of home There under mountain’s heart alone On diamond throne there sat our king Lo! Ogrimbal, the ancient’s kin His prideful heart beat ever bright His watchful gaze yet pierced the night In olden halls under mountain grey In ancient dark, no dwarf remains The dark outside entered our halls And now remains ‘till end time calls Under ancient throne, now shattered and torn There lies our king, the Titan-Born Lo! There he lies in forgotten deep Until the darkness away will seep. |