From
newlaz at excite.com Sun Dec 09 22:45:09 2001
The Follower of Rorun Ethus Keeperstone awoke in a dwarven bed, hard stone matress, and rough blanket. It is the most comfort he has had in years. A pleasure that should be savored, but there is no time for that. The Historian had sent him another vision. He rolled out of bed, and quickily dressed in his robes. His eyes were wild with the visions sent to him. A priest in Irelia had called him a mad man, but he knew the truth. Rorun Ethus Keeperstone had chosen him for his holy mission. Dwarves are on the verge.
On the verge. The brink of destruction, or the precipise of rebirth. A way of unity, or the destruction of all dwarves. There would come a High King, the likes which had never been seen. A dwarf to lead all dwarves to unity. His Face was hidden from Granite, but he would be found. Found...he needed to find Prince Sol. Grabbing the silvered weapons, the only weapons left to him he left the room.
Dwarves are a proud people, loathe to accept help from outsiders, even outsiders of thier own race. Fiercly independant, yet totally dependant on each other. The paradox that is a dwarf. Sol was the paragon of the paradox. He needed no one, but required everyone. Right now he needs his Seneschal.
Walking to the common room of the pub, he looks wildly at the dwarven bartender. His eyes narrowed.
"The male with black hair, and the look of eternal battle in his eyes, where did he go?"
The bartender backed down a step, stunned by the clarity and intensity of the cleric's eyes.
"He, he, went out with a young noble, Father."
"A young one? Ninty-five or so?"
"Aye."
"Blessed be to Rorun Ethus Keeperstone. History is in the making, tender. Keep your wits about you, and your loyalty to the Dwarven Race above all else."
Trembling, the barkeep nodded as the intense white bearded cleric left his pub. The barkeep scared as he was, knew in his heart that things were about to change. He was filled with pride of being a dwarf. No human, or orc would ever feel the same about his race. A brief encounter, no longer then moments, has changed the young barkeep. When the call to arms would ring out, he would take his family's war axe, and armor and fight. SO was written, so shall be done!
From
cfrankert at hotmail.com Mon Dec 10 03:11:16 2001
Laz glad you found the new group :o) We'll be on our way soon enough by the looks of things. I'm not sure if you're on ICQ or not....but if you are message me next time you're
on. I may be there, I may not...but at least I'll know you're still around.
From
cfrankert at hotmail.com Tue Dec 11 08:11:26 2001
Sol and Irongate finally arrive at Copperwell's capital after a few hours walk from the tavern they had both ate supper at. A guard approaches from the doors and challenges the two younger dwarves, "Halt, I need identification to let either of you come further as the Thane's court is not in session."
Sol quickly responds, "Sir, I am Prince Sol Blackstar from Dol Geldar and at my side is Flood Irongate, the representative from Nod Geldar. I believe Coros Steelbiter is awaiting my arrival and it is important that I speak to him immediately."
The guard, realizing that Sol is telling him the truth, bows to the prince. Upon standing, "If you will both follow me, I believe Thane Steelbiter has already fallen asleep. I do know that he requested a room be set aside for you Prince Blackstar, and I believe we can also put Sir Irongate up for the night as well." The guard continues, Prince Blackstar, we were informed that you would be travelling with one Granite Armstrong, is he still with you or have you two gone seperate ways?"
Sol, bowing is head slightly, "Granite and I are still together. He is resting at a tavern near the front gates of your great city. He will be along either tonight or in the morning. When he arrives, please escort him to my room."
The guard turns and waves both Sol and Flood through the front doors. He than precedes to escort them to their rooms, both of which are guarded by two stout dwarves.
The lead guard upon arriving at the rooms says, "These men are here to insure your safety sir. They have Thane Steelbiter's trust and were chosen specifically by him as he knew that you did not have a full entourage."
Sol, a bit of unease passing over his face, "Thank you for the room sir, and be sure to inform Thane Steelbiter of my arrival when he arises this morning." Sol than steps into his room after watching young Flood stumble into his own. As the main guard returns to his post, Sol shuts and locks the door to his room, afterwhich he braces his battle-axe against it making sure no one is getting in without a fight. He collaspes into bed, laying there restlessly, his mind racing with thoughts of what is to come...and questions of his own destiny.
From
adamdavis64 at hotmail.com Sat Dec 15 11:46:03 2001
Coros Steelbiter awoke slowly, blinking at the stone ceiling of his personal chamber. It was tall for a dwarven sleeping room; a human could have stood comfortably here. The pillars supporting it were intricately carved with complex patterns which actually enhanced their load-bearing capacity by distributing force throughout them. The floor was covered in a rough hemp rug, a gift from a human nation to the south whose ruler had understood that a dwarf wanted a carpet that lasted for a century, not a beautiful one that wore out in a mere three decades. Coros had always admired that baron, now two
centuries dead, and the dyes which colored the hemp had only begun to fade slightly within the past thirty years.
The dwarven ruler climbed off of his sleeping slab and donned his ceremonial clothing...hard leather trousers polished until they gleamed, a thick woolen vest plated with thin copper scales, his copper hammer of office hanging from a silver belt, a domed copper helm adourned with ivory inlay, and the medallion which had been
recovered from the runins of Anhold. A heavy one of dark iron, supposedly a piece of An's True Forge on which the dwarven people had been made, the medallion was the badge of office of the de facto leader of dwarvenkind. Marked with twenty-four tiny glyphs of intricate detail...the signs of the cities which had once made up the
Dwarven Confederacy. Twenty-seven hundred years ago, two dozen city-states had dotted the dwarven lands. When he had become thane of Copperwell three hundred years ago, twelve cities belonged to the confederation. Now only seven still stood. Coros slipped the chain around his neck, wondering how many more of those glyphs would be
obsolete inside his lifetime. The iron medal felt far heavier around his neck than it should.
As Coros combed his beard, a heavy belllpull sounded outside his chamber, and a moment later Torc, his grandnephew and personal assistant, strode in. "My Thane," he said bowing his head. Coros placed a hand on the younger dwarf's head in a gesture of traditional blessing. "What is it, my son?" the ruler asked.
"There are visitors, my Thane. Nobles from other city-states. A junior representative from Nod Geldar, a member of Clan Irongate...I do not recognize him. And another, who seems to be traveling with him...the one the priest of Rorun has been waiting for."
Coros' eyes widened. "Why didn't you say so! Prince Sol is here?" The ruler yanked his comb out of his beard, wincing slightly. "Send for meat and spirits and bread, lad, to be sent to my private audience chamber. Tell the prince I will speak with him at his earliest
convenience. Also, get someone to fetch the trunk prepared for the Gifting. I can't very well receive a ruler without a gift of hospitality. And find Granite Armstrong. He'll be pleased to know that the prince has arrived."
"Yes, my Thane," the boy said, rushing out of the room. Coros Steelbiter looked at himself in the polished stone mirror. So Dol Geldar's last ruler, a prince only because those able to crown him king had died in the fall of his city, had come to Copperwell. And the other representatives were arriving one by one...the thane had not anticipated the need for an extra seat at the council table, especially not one occupied by the last son of Clan Blackstar. Anxiety marking his usually unmoved face, Coros Steelbiter left his
sleeping room and hurried to his audience chamber to await the prince's arrival.
From
cfrankert at hotmail.com Mon Dec 17 22:07:37 2001
Sol awakens to a pounding on his bedroom door. He looks around, confused at first. Accustomed to the uneven roads, Sol isn't completely sure where he's when he awakens. He realizes there is someone knocking at the door and it wasn't part of his dream.
Torc is standing outside of Sol's chambers, knocking on the door. He finally hears a gruff voice from inside the room yell out, "I'm coming, I'm coming." Torc is a bit startled as he hears some metal on stone grinding from inside Sol's chambers.
Sol slowly opens the door, placing the battle axe he propped against it last night to the side, clearly in view but out of the way. When he looks up he sees Torc standing there, a bit startled by Sol's appearance and the battle axe.
Torc, finally overcoming his initial shock, bows to Sol. "My lord, Thane Steelbiter is waiting for you in his audience chamber where breakfast will be served. There is no rush as Thane Steelbiter specified that you were to arrive at your earliest convenience."
Sol, measures the young dwarf in front of him. "Son, would you bring me a wash tub so I may wash up?"
Torc, almost staring at the scar running up Sol's chest, "Yes my lord, I'll bring a wash tub immediately for your use." At that, Torc turns and hurries away from Sol's chambers after closing the door. A few minutes later Torc returns with the wash tub and a fresh suit of
clothes for the visiting noblity. "My lord, here is the wash tub you requested, and I took the liberty of bringing you a fresh suite of clothes."
Sol, looking at the clothing he's spread over the bed looks up, "Thank you son. What is your name by the way? I can't be walking around here calling everyone son."
Torc, "My lord, my name is Torc, I am Thane Steelbiter's personal assistant and grandnephew."
Sol realizes that Torc isn't as young as he originally thought. "I'm sorry Torc, you're not even close to being a son I could have fathered, but the times have already started to take their toll." Sol finishes washing up, "If you'll wait outside for me you can lead to me Coros' Audience Chamber and we can get an early jump on today."
After seeing Torc out, Sol looks over the clothes the older assistant brought for him. A proper suit of clothes, made with fine Dwarven worksmanship. Its been sometime since Sol has worn anything of its nature. As Sol dresses, his mind wanders back to the last time he was in attendance of a proper function. His father still ruled Dol Geldar at that time, the orcs were a distant threat at that time...if a threat at all. After Sol finishes dressing he steps out into the hall way, the only addition to the garb brought by Torc being Sol's bastard sword on his hip. "Lead the way Torc for I have not the slightest clue where we're going," as the two head down the hallway towards Coros' chambers.
From
justincryder at yahoo.com Tue Dec 18 10:43:13 2001
Young Irongate slept soundly in his quarters that evening. He awoke on his own that morning, and sitting up in his bed, he admired the room which was much nicer than one of his stature would normally receive. Rising out of bed, Flood began to dress for today,
wearing his finest clothing, and feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation for the coming day. He was determined to make a good first impression with Thane Steelbiter, to represent his the people of Nod Geldar to the best of his ability, and bring honor to clan
Irongate.
From
newlaz at excite.com Fri Jan 11 19:38:51 2002
The two gaurds left Steelbiter's home with the intention of finding the Seneschal Armstrong. With infallible dwarven logic they headed toward the small temple dedicated to Rorun Ethus Keeperstone, where else would one of his clergy be?
As they turned a corner, they saw the bleak almost hidden temple. Dwarves with thier long life do not need a daily reminder of thier mortality, especially in times when dwarves are a dying race. To thier shock, the strong temple doors were lying to the side of the entry way. Pulling out battle axes they charged in. As they were about to burst through the door a high priest stepped in blocking them.
"Delver Copperfist, and Therin Nailbeard. You were expected, enter in peace."
The two gaurds lower thier battle axes. One of them speaks: "But the doors, Father, we thought the temple was in trouble."
"Nay, Nailbeard. The will of Gods does not wait for the elderly to unlock doors."
The other gaurd speaks up "Uh, Father, we were sent by Thane Steelbiter to..."
"Gather Granite Armstrong. Yes, I know."
"How did you know?"
"Granite told me. Follow me."
The high priest leads them both down the aisle to the alter. An alter normally reserved for the dead being honored. It held Granite Armstrong. The two gaurds surged forward. Nailbeard grabs Granite's hand, and gasps.
"He's..he's DEAD!"
"No, Nailbeard. He is with the Master of this House. He is niether alive nor dead."
"So he is only, what kind of dead?"
The High Priest chuckles "Or somewhat alive, Copperfist."
Granite groans and rolls over. "Forgive me father."
"No need Granite. My bones are old and about to join Rorun Ethus Keeperstone. These men are here to pick you up."
"Yes, I was told. I need some things."
"Take what you need. This is our Master's house."
"Thank you." Granite departs to the rectory. The gaurds go to follow him, but are stopped yet again by the old palsied hand of the High Priest.
"Don't."
"Yes, Father." they both intone. Granite comes out a few moments later. He is wearing the pure black satin robes and mask of the High Cerimonies, sending chills down the gaurds' spines. It is not easy to spook the Thane's gaurd. In his arms he carries a large rectangular object wrapped in a funeral shroud. Completly obscurred except for the vague outline of the Hourglass holy symbol of Rorun Ethus Keeperstone.
"Even that?!?"
"Aye Father, especially this. It was ordered of me."
"Father Armstrong, at least let us carry that. It is nearly as big as you are, and must be heavy." says Copperfist. A glare rises in Granite's ice blue eyes.
"You don't give a waraxe to a beardless child to carry to battle for you, do you?"
"Why, of course not Father. They could hurt themself."
"Then learn NEVER ask to bear my burdens! Take me to the Thane. Blackstar is already breaking fast with him, and I am hungry."
"YES SIR!" comes the trained response. In a few moments the two gaurds went from fear, to pity, to finally respect and loyalty. They cleared the streets towards Steelbiter's manor, were they walk the short in, completly ignoring the other gaurds.
At a door to a dining room they rush ahead of Granite, and open the door. As one they intone "Father Granite Armstrong, prophet of Rorun Ethus Keeperstone, to see Thane Steelbiter."
Granite looks at them with a mixture of scorn, pity, and gratuity. He slams the large rectangle object covered in a funeral shroud down beside a chair. He does a short but meaningful bow to Thane Steelbiter, and a nod at the young noble from Nox Geldar, and bow to the waist toward Prince Sol Blackstar. "My introduction is over important. Pardon my slips of formality, but Ihave been fasting over long, and a haunch of meat would suit me well, my Lords."
From
cfrankert at hotmail.com Sun Jan 13 06:13:42 2002
Before Granite's arrival, both Sol Blackstar and Flood Irongate had been summoned to Thane Steelbiter's Private Chamber by Torc. Sol had been presented with suitable clothing for the occasion. Once dressed, the three of them, immediately headed to meet Thane Steelbiter.
After introductions and announcements, Sol and Flood were seated at the almost massive table. Coros informed them breakfast would be served as soon as they were waiting for one more to arrive. Within minutes, the doors opened again and in walked Granite.
To Sol's amazement, Granite is carrying an extremely large box, and some color has returned to him that was missing on the previous night.
The Thane looks at Granite, surprised at his frailness, "Please join us father, I understand your hunger and breakfast will be served now that you have arrived."
With a wave of his hand, Thane Steelbiter summons in the breakfast, and the three nobles and the priest of Rorun Ethus Keeperstone sit down to eat.
From
justincryder at yahoo.com Sun Jan 13 06:37:23 2002
Young Irongate was feeling very much out of his league, sitting at the breakfast table that morning with Thane Steelbiter, Prince Blackstar, and Father Armstrong. Dwarves are generally not a trusting race, but somehow he had managed to gain the confidence of Prince Blackstar. In this, Flood felt much pride. And perhaps, he thought, he was not so much out of his league as he thought?
As the youthful represenatitive from Nod Geldar sat at the table, he
could not help but take notice of Father Armstrong, whom he had seen
only very briefly the night previous, and passed out in a chair in the tavern. At that time the cleric had appeared very weak, very frail, and very old. Observing him now, he was still very much each of those three things, but at the same time Irongate noticed a discernible inner strength eminating from Father Armstrong. Perhaps it was his faith, perhaps it was his sense of duty to Prince Blackstar, or perhaps it was a combination of both faith and duty. Regardless of what the source was, Irongate was duly impressed and held the cleric in the utmost respect.
From
newlaz at excite.com Mon Jan 21 20:07:46 2002
The Dwarven noblemen ate in silence, as was customary for the morning breaking of fast. The thin and emaciated cleric had trouble with his stomach, not having used it for such a long time, but ate as much or more then the others. Finishing his third serving of mushrooms and bacon, he wiped his mouth, and quickily combed the remaining food out of his beard just as the other's did. They all set down thier beard combs at the same moment, thus not showing that any of them were more vain then the others. A dispicable trait amoung dwarves vanity. Granite clears his throat. Thane Steelbiter, senior in his own home recognizes Granite's right to speak.
"Thane Steelbiter, I have a question, or rather a statement that will seem rather, to be honest, forward."
"Speak Father Armstrong. Counsil is why you are here after all."
"We honor our dead, do we not?"
A tad shocked and wondering where the cleric is leading, the Thane nods and states "Of course, but you amoung us would know that better then others."
"We honor our dead. We do not play children's games, insisting that they are still alive."
"True Enough, Father Armstrong."
"Then why does everyone presist in calling your nephew, Sol Blackstar, as Prince? His forebearers have joined Rorun Ethus Keeperstone! By law of the Dwarves handed down generation to generation from the Gods themselves, by right of birth, and by right of death, he is THANE!"
OOC: THanks to Chuck for the detailed back history. This makes things much more interesting.
From
justincryder at yahoo.com Tue Jan 22 16:38:25 2002
It did not take long for Father Armstrong to validate young Irongate's gut feeling about him. He did possess a great deal of inner strength, and he had just made a bold (although very accurate) statement in the presence of Thane Steelbiter. Perhaps any other Dwarf alive who made such a statement would be unceremoniously thrown out onto the street, but Father Armstrong was not just "any other Dwarf." The youthful representative from Nod Geldar waited anxiously for Thane Steelbiter's rebuttal.
From
adamdavis64 at hotmail.com Wed Jan 23 12:33:09 2002
Thane Steelbiter sighed deeply and closed his eyes. "I fear that you are both right and wrong, Father," he replied. "It is true that young Sol is indeed the rightful heir to the throne of Dol Geldar, and should by all rights bear the Axe and Diadem. However...our own laws forbid it." He shook his head. "His father was slain, paving the way for his succession. But a thane can only be crowned by the High Priest of An. And as you are all too aware, the High Priest of An, and the rest of the Keepers of An, were slain in the fall of Anhold. The Gagnerians were very careful to make sure to strike them all down."
The Thane rose, and walked to the back of the chamber. "The succession of all the dwarven cities is hamstrung now. Tradition must be honored, as bound in the Compact by which the Confederation was formed. Only by the grace of An can a ruler ascend; history is marked with those who failed the High Priest's tests, and were passed over. But there are no more Keepers of An to choose a new High Priest, and no High Priest to
appoint more Keepers. Sol may claim the rulership of Dol Geldar, but he may not wear its crown. The Compact is clear."
He returned to the table, a cloth bundle in his hands. "This is not the Gifting," he said to Sol, setting it on the table. "A Gifting is something new, and it will come. This is something that is yours already." He unwrapped the bundle. Lying in the rough cloth lay a copy of the heavy medal he wore around his neck.
"This was recovered from the ruins of Dol Geldar," Steelbiter said softly. "The medallion of office. You may not wear the crown, but no one will dispute your right to wear the seal of your people."
*Deepflame will it so,* the thane thought to himself. *Let the rest of the council see sense. Dol Geldar may be shattered, but I will not allow the Council to bury it forever as some of them wish to....*
From
cfrankert at hotmail.com Sat Jan 26 15:20:39 2002
OOC: I'm going to assume that the Seal of the people is also called the diadem. Please correct me if I'm wrong.
Also, Laz, the complete background info was a joint venture between yourself and me. I just kept the compiled notes and finally got them online.
Adam: I thought An didn't have clerics/priests at any time, this came as a shock to me when you said the High Priest of An and the keepers of An. Also when you said that the ppl who would be responsible for crowning Sol king had died, I thought you had meant that those people had been at Dol Geldar at the time of the attack.
IC:
At Thane Steelbiter's offer of his Family's seal, Sol bows his head in silence. "Thank you Coros, I had believed the seal to have been either stolen or destroyed during the battle. It gladdens my heart to find that it is still in our possession." Sol, picks up the medallion and slips it over his head, placing it over his heart. "I will wear
this with the honor and pride that has driven my clan for centuries."
Sol looking over at Granite continues, "As to my kingship, Coros is correct. I have not right to be king of Dol Geldar. That position of honor died with my father. The High Priest and keepers of An were to test me some 40 years from now when my father believed he would be ready to step down from his position. Not until that time was I to be crowned King of Dol Geldar."
With a slight tremble in his voice, "Granite, as you should know by now, positions of dignity mean very little to me. I do not wish to be king of anything at this time. You have followed me from one end of this world to the next searching out the one who caused our people so much pain. During my journey here, I had several dreams, visions... whatever you would like to call them. In those dreams, I saw images that put fear into me like none I have felt before. We as a people have erred in our ways. We believed ourselves to be superior to everything and allowed our deligience to lax. That is why the orcs were able to conquer our cities and destroy our way of live. I believe these attacks are not over and more cities will fall if we do not correct the error in our ways."
"I will admit to forgetting the purpose of a ruler in our lands when I left Dol Geldar after the attack. I have realized the error in my ways. We can not being to rebuild until our lands are completely free of orcs. As Thane Deathhammer asked with his dying words, we must protect what we still have. It is for that reason that I will be unable to stay in Copperwell long past the meeting.(OOC: Name forgotten) I will be leaving for Cavecrest Ridge as soon as possible. I have vowed to free those cities currently besieged by the orcs and
aid them in any way I can."
From
adamdavis64 at hotmail.com Tue Jan 29 09:27:32 2002
A few points of dwarven cultural clarification:
1) Because Dol Geldar's Thane took the title of king, he wears a crown and not a helm as his mark of office. The symbols of office for Dol Geldar are the Diadem (crown) and Axe; most dwarven city-states are ruled by a thane whose symbols are a helm and either an axe (if their city name ends in "Geldar" or "Hold"), a hammer (for those ending in "-well" or "Forge"), or a mace (for those ending in "Keep"); all others bear their own unique symbols. The symbols of office have no bearing on the personal weapons chosen by a ruler, although the thane must prove his skill with the weapon that is his symbol of office as part of the testing to be thane. The Seal Coros wears, the Seal of An, is the sign of the leader of all dwarvenkind, and bears 24 glyphs marking the original 24 city-states; each present ruler bears a seal showing the crest and glyph of their individual state, including Sol. Those seals are simply known as "The Seal of (city-state)."
2) You are correct, Chuck, in that An has no clergy of his own. The title of High Priest of An was a ceremonial one. The original High Priest of An is said to have been installed by the three gods themselves at the founding of the Confederation, and is the only dwarf to have ever been a cleric of An himself; he in turn appointed
Keepers of An, one from each city-state, to serve him. Both the High Priest of An and the Keepers of An (except for the original High Priest) were actually clerics of one of the other three major dwarven gods (and rarely one of the minor local ones), and retained all the spells and powers granted to their own priesthoods, in addition to a few unique powers only available to An's servitors. Therefore, their role as "clerics of An" was strictly ceremonial, since An himself takes no direct involvment in dwarven affairs and they continued to
pray to their own deities. When a Keeper of An died or stepped down (very few were ever removed from office by the High Priest, only seven throughout all dwarven history), the High Priest would appoint a replacement from the appropriate city-state; the surviving Keeper of a city-state which had fallen was permitted to remain Keeper for 101 years after, and was not replaced when he fell or that time ran out. When the High Priest himself died, the Keepers would choose a successor from outside their own ranks (although former Keepers who had stepped down have often been selected over the years). The High Priest was considered the spiritual leader of dwarvenkind, in much the same way that the Thane of Anhold was the de facto political leader of the dwarves. All of the living Keepers of An died in orcish attacks (see below), as well as the High Priest himself, therefore preventing any new Keepers or High Priests from being appointed.
3) The individual responsible for crowning Sol was killed in Dol Geldar. The High Priest of An must test each possible thane before his succession and approve him, but the crowning is actually done by the Keeper of An from that thane's own city. The Keeper of An from Dol Geldar escaped the slaughter at Anhold (the only Keeper to do so), was in Dol Geldar when the orcs attacked, and was killed; it is entirely possible that Dol Geldar, unusually far from the orcish border, was attacked next by the orcs specifically so that the Keeper
could be eliminated, thus disrupting the dwarven succession process.
IC: The Thane listened carefully to Sol's words and nodded. "You are wise and strong, Sol Blackstar," he said. "Your words before the Council may well turn their minds and guide them to aid you in whatever way we can to free Cavecrest Ridge before it falls. Perhaps we can even claim back Grayaxe Hold with your strength and that of the dwarven people."
Inwardly, the thane was relieved. *His absence will make dealing with his situation easier,* he thought. *As long as Sol Blackstar walks these halls, the Council will question his legitimacy here, and my defense of his position undermines what little unity I can hold to. Deepflame, give me strength....*
Coros lifted a bell and rang it, its tones echoing in the chamber. "To that end, Sol Blackstar, I have for you a gift, appropriate to your mission. I hope it will aid you in your endeavors once you leave these halls."
Two dwarves entered bearing a large chest, bound in dwarven steel and chased in silver, its smooth stone panels lacquered blue and worked with images of dwarven mythic glory. Four intricate dwarven locks marked its face. Coros held before Sol a ring of four silver keys. "The trunk is five hundred years old, and was crafted by my great-granduncle Katos Steelbiter, son of Loran Steelbiter. It is yours, as are its contents." Turning to the trunk, he opened it slowly and solemnly, unlocking each mightly lock in turn carefully, so Sol could see the workings of the mechanisms and the proper ways to turn the keys so that the intricate locks would open. He lifted the lid.
In the torchlight glittered the shine of copper and gold. Lying on a bed of heavy gold coins lay an intricate suit of copper plate mail, elaborately worked with intricate designs. The breastplate was adourned with a strangely blank round seal of white enamel.
"Tradition calls for five thousand measures of gold," Coros said, "but I regret I can only spare three thousand right now." He lowered his eyes and moved his hand in a cutting gesture across his beard to show his shame. "Be assured Copperwell will grant you the remainder, and half again as much to make good my shame, in aid to your cause."
The serving dwarves lifted out the mail. "This armor was forged by Keeper Larm Evenhand, son of Rorm Evenhand, seven hundred years ago, on the Forge of Anhold. I need not tell you that it carries the blessing of the gods in its metal. Though it is copper, it is the strong copper of this very city, tempered by craft and blessings, and has all the strength of steel. It will adjust itself to fit you, and the blank seal on the breast will take on your personal arms when worn." He bowed deeply and spoke the traditional words of giving. "Bear it proudly, my guest, and know that you and your sons are always welcome in my hall. May you be always blessed by the Three Lords of the World. By my honor, I pray my gift is fitting."
(OOC: I don't know the traditional reply; feel free to invent one. Sol was gifted first due to his rank; Flood will be gifted once Sol replies. Granite, as a cleric, will be given a smaller gift more as a countesy, and with less ceremony.)
From
cfrankert at hotmail.com Wed Jan 30 18:59:41 2002
{OOC: Adam, you know we need to have a chat...and you know what about. I wasn't quite expecting that response from Coros, although I'm guessing that something passed over his face as he was thinking. I'm
not going to act on it currently but let me know if there was anything noticeably unusual about his mannerism after his first announcement to Sol, ending with "...with your strength and that of the dwarven people."
Also...what does Sol know about this armor?
1. About the creator?
2. Last one to wear the armor?
3. What bonuses the armor gives to the wearer? (by the sounds of it, the movement penalty is reduced and the fatigue factor isn't as great)
As for the traditional response, I'll do my best.}
IC: Sol, kneeling before Coros: "Thank you, My Thane. I do not feel worthy of the gift you have presented before me, but I accept it with pride and honor. I pray to the Three Lords of the World that I do not
tarnish the pride and honor that surrounds the gift you have presented to me."
His eyes have still not left the chest with the armor and gold laying in it as he resumes his seat at the table. He had heard of the gift giving from his elders at Dol Geldar, but he had never been present at one in the past. His amazement at the value of the armor and the gold underneath it were obvious as he took his seat.