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The door slammed open.

I could see the apparent surprise and a slight fright emerge on the face of the towncrier. I can easily imagine it is not common occasion to witness a heavily armored, battle scarred dwarf heading straight towards you. I slammed down the heavy, ostentively red stained battleaxe upon his counter and glanced upon his face.

I curled a wicked smile as the poor man slowly, cautiously stepped back as he noticed the extensive scarring upon the left side of my face; a gift from Samael, no less. He reluctantly stepped forward, obviously ill-at-ease, as I waved him forward.
“I have a message to be spread over these lands. All must know, hear or read these words”, I said, shoving a roll of parchment over the counter. The poor clerk barely managed a stammer. “Gold is not an issue” and placed a sack of gold on the wood. He opened the scroll and as he read it, he could not help feeling the exquisite quality of the parchment, and a flicker of greed upon the sight of the Gold Seal bearing a crossed pickaxe and axe.

“To all that will read or hear these words, Hail.
I Torin, son of Hurin, son of Gloin, known as the Gryphoneye, currently investured as High Constable and Baron of the Kingdom of Mythdale state the following, upon deliberation and on charge of his grace Merrick, King of Mythdale, first of that name.

Knowing that these lands slowly descend into Chaos and oblivion, we hereby stretch out a hand of friendship to all those willing to cooperate to turn the tide and bring peace and tranquility to these Isles. We weep at the sight of bandits running rampage amongst the innocent, of blood shed for no apparent reason, we mourn for the fields plowed with blood and bones. It is our desire to bring together all willing to aid, to work together in unison and defend our lands, all lands, from these ongoing marauders. Working together, uniting our efforts, we can only hope to help those unable to defend themselves and bring trade and wealth back into our realms.

Let it hence be known that Mythdale graciously extends a token of peace and genuine friendship and we sincerely hope that whomever that might read or hear these words, will endeavor to speak with us of this matter or any other, that might concern us. We would kindly consider any offer of Alliance or request for protection that anyone would choose to lay before us.

Signed: Torin Gryphoneye, High Constable and Baron of Mythdale
Sealed with a gold seal on a red silk tail, picturing a pickaxe and axe, balancing upon a scale. “

Upon reading it, the towncrier looked anew to this old, strange dwarf, a flicker of recognition in his eyes, his head slowly nodding. “I shall dispatch it with haste, mylo …eh Torin”, he said.

Curling a slight smile, and nodding curtly, my voice grated with fatigue: “Gratitude, I would greatly appreciate were it dispatched with utmost haste”. As I stepped outside and gently poured a mug of ale, I heard the first orders being shouted and soon thereafter horseman and ravens flew to their dedicated destination with a haste proportionate to the sack of gold upon the counter.

I just couldn’t help smiling.

I couldn’t help laughing as I pondered upon the actions I witnessed. The comfort of Nutcracker’s weight upon my back, Lightbringer and Lightkeeper at the ready. Watching, guarding over the safety of the workers, masons, stonecutters toiling at the Great Wall of Mythdale.

Merrick and me, Duke and Baron, King and Constable, the founders of Mythdale. Together we are building a haven of peace, of tranquility, a beacon of Order in these realms. Together with friends, allies, relatives we are working towards a safehaven in these lands, otherwise overwhelmed, slowly usurped by Chaos. The soil enriched with the blood of the innocent, bearing the fruits of war and decay.

Balance must be kept at all times I mumble barely audible, clenching the smooth, battle worn hilt of my falchion. My hands roughened by a lifetime of war slowly caressing the yellowed bone. Sheathing it, I checked the edge of old faithful Nutcracker, never once losing my vigilance over the workers. Grey eyes continually glancing about for any apparent sign of danger. I never realized how my fingers unwittingly sought out the inlaid gems in the hilt of the Greataxe, the smooth surface of the slight bump bringing some kind of tranquility in my soul. A bluefrosted gem shone upon my touch, gifted by the small, lovely Neheleniah and a ruby red as blood by the beautifull and kind Scarlet.

I couldn’t help smile, thinking of them, memories clouded by age. My eyes suddenly shoot towards a human worker, shouting a joke. Arrogant and futile their attempts are, a conclusion made by centuries of experience in leading men into into battle, by ruling and judging towns and shires. It has been long since I was Steward of my Dwarven Kingdom. My kinsmen governed by tradition, sturdy as the stone they are made of. These young ones brood Chaos, inhibit nay, embrace Change as their second nature. Their lives as short as their actions, I can only applaud the efforts they, … we make to turn the Tides. Be they futile and arrogant in their lack of longterm vision, they are worth my attention. If the Ancients would turn from them, … alas we are too few in number, we need their energy, their labour, their aptitude for profound Change, … only than we might restore the Balance …

My thoughts fleeing as mist in the sun, I turned as I heard the Quartermaster approach. A trustworthy dwarf, sworn to Mythdale, bringing me ale and meat from the stores he soo energetically collects. Smiling thankfully I accept the mug of fresh foaming beer. “Gratitude Grim”, and I nod my head in acknowledgement and after a long gulp, I cannot help asking him: “tell me Grimm, how many guards can we enlist the coming days?”

The northern tribes numbered only and handful of members now. The tribes have waged war against the humans for many years. They fought to keep the northern lands free from the grip of the humans and their ways. It had bin two months since the last great warlord of the tribes fell in battle. He fell fighting at the sacred temple of the moon goddess. The human armies stoped long enough to destroy the once beloved temple to rubble.

Following that defeat the humans made their way deeper into the northern land. As they did they put all the villages and people to the flames with their magics and all who lived felt the sharpness of the blades. The humans started to use dogs to track any who have ran.
The few who had survived the attacks tried to go deeper into the northern lands. For the survivors had but one hope left to them and that was to make there way to the sacred groves. The groves were where the last Oracle of the moon lived.
With each day the survivors would wake early and start to run before the hunting parties. On the fourth day the five survivors awoke to sounds of the hunting parties gaining. All quickly made ready to run again. As they readied them selves to run. Two of the five sat on the ground and whispers lowly to each other. Then the elderly man stands up weakly, he turned to the other three and told them that he and his mate could not run any longer. The elderly couple gray with age told the others that when the human came this way that they would try to slow them some.

The other three turned around to face the elder couple and nodded to them. After, one by one the three hugged the elders warmly then left the campsite. The three ran for two hours then stoped at the sound of battle behind them. At the sound of the old couples death howls the three started to run with all the strength they had left to them. The survivors ran into the night trying to put more distance between them and the hunting parties. All three ran long into the night and then finally they started to fall to the ground from exhaustion. As they layed on the cold damp ground one by one they turned over on their backs and stared up at the moon.

The three layed there to rest some. The wind shifted and carried the scent of sweet flowers from the groves. They sat up and looked at each others faces and started to stand and slowly walk to where the smell was coming from. They came apon a clearing with six great stones reaching to the sky. In the middle of the stones they seen the Oracle kneeling. Looking up she waved them closer to her. The survivors walked into the circle of stones and bowed to the Oracle.

The Oracle sat still at she looked them over. Then she sighed deeply and ask,” Is this all that is left of the northern tribes? Just a old warrior followed by a younger warrior and a child.” They watched as her eyes filled with sadness. The old warrior nodded to the Oracle. She motioned for them to sit before her. As they did she spoke of her plan to try and save the survivors. She looked to the moon and told the other that tonight would be the blood moon. She went on to say how she would try to save them by using her magics to open a portal to a new land to live free of these foul humans touch. She looked back down at the three and told them to rest for now.

The three awoke close to dust and seen the Oracle off to their side with her eyes closed. The three talked about the many people that they had lost to make it to the groves. They talked for a few hours until the Oracle opened her eyes and stared at the blood moon rising into place. As she watched the moon she told the three where the portal would open and where to stand.

The Oracle rose to her feet and pointed to the places to stand. She walked to the middle on the great stones and started her chanting calling on the blood moon to aid her magics this night following that she chanted the the goddess to give her the strength she would need for the magics to work. As the Oracles voice started to rise in volume so did the winds around the stones. Her voice boomed over the winds till it was all that could be heard.

The magics started to work, the three stared at the portal as it glowed a golden color then changed to green then to a dark red. The three walked to the glowing portal. The old warrior turned around and watched as four scout clad in black armor made their way against the winds. The old warrior smiled and pushed firmly the other two to the portal. The old warrior turn around to face these scout.

The young child held the hand of the young warrior and watched as the older one riped his armor free of his body and his body started to make the change to that of a Hugh brown wolf. From the ground to his shoulder he stood four foot tall. The wolf walked low to the ground at first then charged the scouts.

The child pulled on the young warriors arm to watch the battle. The warrior just stared at the portal not wanting to turn around. The child looked back it time to see the wolfs’ fangs bite down on the human’s neck. The wolf throw his head back and tore free the mans throat. The child pulled again on the warriors arm as the child looked to the young warriors face he could see tears flowing freely down his face.

Looking back to the wolf the child seen another human down and not moving. The two men with silver spears trying to push the wolf back. The wolf jumped quickly to the sides to dodge the spears. One mans spear was to high seeing this the wolf charged the man low to the ground. The wolf got under the spear tip and clamped down on the mans knee. The child watched as the wolf throw the man from side to side wile still in his jaws.

The wolf turned to late to dodge the last mans spear. As the spear head pierced the wolfs’ side deeply it jumped quickly to the side an snapped the spear head off. The man pulled his blades free and dove at the wolf filled with hate. The wolf was to slow now to dodge the blows. As the scout raised his blades one last blow across the wolfs’ head.

The child seeing this quickly left go of the other warriors’ hand to ran to the wolf and hugging the wolf looked up at the man as his blade raised and paused a moment. Turn to late to grab the child the warrior seen the scouts’ blade about ready to fall against the child. Starting to run torwards the child the warrior looked to the Oracle but she was lost to her magics and her chanting. Turning his head around to keep running he seen the blade fall down across the child again and again.

Falling to the ground at the sight, he filled with sorrow and rage caused his body to start to change into a Hugh wolf with white furr with dark grey streaks in it. His eyes lost their color and turned red. As the wolf stood up on all four legs he turned his glowing red eyes on the scout who was admiring his kills, The wolf cared nothing of life or the fate of the tribes now. The wolf charged the scout and jumped into the air before he opened his jaws. Seeing movement from the corner of his eyes the scout turned it time to see the wolfs’ fangs close around the front of his skull. The wolfs’ jaws closed around the scouts temples as the wolf hit the man to the ground. The wolf slowly closed his jaws till he tore the mans skull in half and was sprayed with the mans life blood. The wolf fiercely tore the mans body apart. The wolf heard more men come up the hill. Turning back to the bodies of his father and his young brothers’ he licked at their still faces tenderly then his sad howls filled the night air. The Oracles at hearing the howl turned and yelled at the wolf to be quick or all was lost.

Seeing the magical portal starting to fade the wolf closed his eyes and ran into the portal. As the wolf opened his eyes he came to see he was in a quite forest with a cool breeze blowing around the trees. Laying down on the cool grass the wolf trys to calm his rage so he could take human form again. As his body’s bones shifted and changed he stood up on two legs again and looked around the area for any danger to him. Seeing no real danger he sat back down and looked to the night sky. His green eyes seen movement from behind the trees. Sitting still he watched the trees for some time.

Then a elven hunter looked around the tree to the man. Steping out from the trees the elf smiled then looked quickly away, for the man sat naked on the grass watching the elf. The warrior watched closely as the elf removed his pack and started looking for something. The elf smiled as he found a dark robe and tossed it to the man. The man sniffed the clothing before putting it on. The elf started to talk as the man dressed,” Do you have a name? And what are you doing so deep in these woods alone? Wiping the blood from his body an face the mans’ cold green eyes turned to meet the elf’s’ gaze,” My name is Lucian and i was just out hunting prey.”

Grim Mineshadow walks about in thought as he looks over his newly aquired holdings.. ” It is time” he mumbles to himself. “Time for the dwarve of the land to have there place.” The time is now, with the oncoming darnkness from these deamons and dragons, he thinks to himself. We must take to these caverns and these halls and gather as many dwarven folks as can be gathered. Get them safe from all of what is going on above ground. Grim nods to himself as he prepares parchments which will be posted about the lands. They will call all dwarven folk to seek out each other and to seek out grim himself so he can show them where to bring there families. Its time the dwarves gather and protrct there race the best they can and let the “tall bodies” as his father refered to humans and elves alike, let them deal with the upper lands an we shall take care of our people in the depths of the mountains where we belong. We can gather her for now and ptrotect our find from what is possibly coming and when its all over we shall seek out a larger and even more proper home for the dwarves of these lands.
Grim gathers the parchments and starts posting them in all the blacksmiths, carpenter and tinker shops he can find. “Well, this is a start”” he mumbles to himself. “we have to start somewhere, might as well be here”