Crucible, Trials & Tribulations, Book II

By Christopher Lapides

The enemy of my enemy...is my weapon.

War is coming and both the dwarven kingdom of Thoriddon and the human city of Thornstone position themselves to be the victor. And caught in the middle are two friends that want only peace, peace that may ultimately be impossible.

While Brom sits imprisoned, trying to calm the anger and rage of his fellow dwarves, Orin journeys into the unknown, trying to find answers. Meanwhile, the dark powers that began the unrest continue to keep the humans and the dwarves at each other’s throats, but their shadowy manipulation will only keep them sated for so long. Many want revenge for centuries of oppression while others simply want blood. Soon, they will act, bringing death and destruction to all who have wronged them.

As the two nations teeter on the edge of all out bloodshed, Orin and Brom rush to stop the conflict. Unfortunately, they find evil of incredible power, willing to stop at nothing to see both nations destroyed. To succeed, their strength, resolve, and friendship will be tested like never before. And nothing will ever be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Lapides
• Release date: Mar 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463736555

Christopher Lapides

"Daddy, you're the coolest daddy in my life." Those are the words of my oldest daughter when she was only two years old. I would like to think that everyone has this view of me, except the daddy part, but reality is often very different from the mind of a child. I was born in Anaheim, California in 1979. I created my first design with the ever reliable pencil when I was five. I have been designing ever since, though the medium has changed throughout the years. Now the keyboard, mouse, and occasional drawing pad are my tools. In 1989, I moved to Georgia, where I continued to doodle, dream, and get in trouble for sketching while the teacher was talking. I attended Brookwood High School in Snellville. After graduating, I went on an exploratory quest, trying out Georgia State and Perimeter College before finally settling on UGA, where I graduated in 2001 with a degree in Journalism/Advertising. I was immediately hired by a bridal magazine as an Art Director. From there I went to a small catalog company based in Stone Mountain where I worked as a graphic designer. After that it was onto Progressive Lighting where I worked as a graphic designer for four years. Now, I am currently the Creative Services Production Manager for Acuity Brands Lighting, while also doing some freelance work when time allows. During those precious moments of free time, when my children allow it, I like to draw, sketch, and write. I currently live in Dacula with my family. We spend the days as all families should, playing and laughing as if nothing else in all the world matters.

Book preview

Crucible

Trails & Tribulations

Book II

by Christopher Lapides

Smashwords Edition

Books by Christopher Lapides

www.cal-productions.com

The Slayer Series

Dragons Plight

Town Shadows

Kingdoms Peril

Heritage Lost

Identity

Lineage

Destiny

Dark Descent

Seeds of Virtue

Seeds of Doubt

Seeds of Malice

Trials & Tribulations

Dark Rising

Crucible

New Dawn

September 2020

CRUCIBLE

Copyright © 2020 Cal Productions

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of Cal Productions.

All characters in the book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters, character names, and the distinctive likenesses thereof are trademarks owned by Cal Productions.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to everyone who supported me. You all rule!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

BOOKS BY CHRISTOPHER LAPIDES

* * * * *

CHAPTER 1

As summer slowly came to an end, the gentle winds of fall started to blow across Terrial, bringing cool weather and changes that were welcomed by all weary travelers. The heat of summer had been bearable this year and the comfort brought by the changing of the seasons was always preferable to Solaris’s blazing rays. Over the next few months, the leaves on the trees will change, most of the grass will go dormant, and the roads winding through the world will see many more feet, hooves, and wheels as thousands of merchants and traders make their way across the world to sell their goods and make coin. Adventures will also be on the soft trails, searching for treasure, protecting caravans, or simply enjoying the comforting breeze, but not everyone will be venturing from their beds. Others will just be going home, returning from a long hard journey of selling their wares and buying supplies, taking a few weeks of rest before having to return to the open road. For Rorok Marbleblock, the call of home was strong, and he could not return fast enough.

For six months, the dwarven stonecutter had traveled all across Terrial, looking for new avenues of business. Along with three of his brothers, four cousins, and a half dozen other dwarves who helped him transport the heavy blocks of stone, he had been to over a hundred cities. There, he sold his product and set up new partnerships with those who desired the superior rock that came right from the mining halls of the dwarven kingdom of Thoriddon. He had even been to a few elven cities, demonstrating that his product was stronger and more durable than any the elves could find. Though the elves were some of his more stubborn clients, he never left a meeting without adding a few elven coins to his pockets. Even they knew the value of what he offered and though there were many dwarven kingdoms throughout the land, Thoriddon was the largest and had the best stone, much of which was used by mayors, kings, stewards, and other leaders in the foundations of many of their grandest structures. Rorok was proud to say that Marbleblock stone sat at the base of more than a dozen castles, towers, and estates that housed some of the most influential people in the world. It was one of his biggest selling points and made his product some of the most sought after throughout all of Terrial. Of course, he had very little to do with the quality of the stone. Time, pressure, and the fact that the stone just happened to be under his home helped the most. He and his crew simply pulled it from the earth, shaped it, and transported it across the land, but his clients did not need to know the facts. All they needed to know is that it was the best and they would be foolish to let such a deal slip through their fingers. That message helped to fill his pockets with gold and empty his wagons of stone. Now, after six months, he and his kin had sold everything they had. It was time to return home. After a long rest and taking the winter to restock, they would be back out selling once more, hoping to make even more coin.

The large caravan, consisting of eight carriages, made its way along the winding trail, heading north toward home. Clouds filled the sky and a slight drizzle had fallen just a few hours ago, wetting the ground. Though the road had turned slightly muddy due to the heavy traffic, Rorok spurred his horses on, refusing to let anything slow him down. He, along with every dwarf riding behind him, was anxious to be back within the halls of Thoriddon, enjoying a drink and heavy platters of food. It had been a long trip, and a profitable one, and it was time to enjoy the spoils of their hard work.

They had just sold off the rest of their product four days ago in the city of Rootbridge, a large city located just on the edge of the Grondalwood, a large forest spanning hundreds of miles to the south. Since the city had very little mining and excavation sites, they were able to get a good price for what they had left. Though what was left was just small chunks of stone and scrapes of rock, they went rather quickly. Since winter was only a few months away, their customers knew it would be some time before they had such an opportunity to purchase such marvelous stone. The road would be thick with merchants since fall was just starting, but most of them would be selling something other than stone and rock since such material took so long to mine and shape. Even if more stonecutters took to the road, Rorok had little worry for his business. He sold the best available after all.

After a few hours of celebration in a local tavern in Rootbridge for another successful season, they set out for home, which lay ten days to the north. Before they reached the kingdom though, they would first come to the city of Thornstone, which they would reach late tomorrow. Rorok was looking forward to seeing that place as well for he had many fond memories of the times he spent in the city. He may spend most of his time in the castle, but Thornstone was home to many of his friends, both human and dwarf alike, and he always had a good time when visiting. He was also looking forward to seeing Tarkin’s Point for his kin always put on a grand celebration upon their return. Being friends with many of the tavern owners definitely had its advantages. They were all anxious to start celebrating and they could not wait for the party that awaited them in Thoriddon, which should be much grander than whatever they experienced in the dwarven outpost. Dwarves were notorious for using any excuse to drink and indulge.

It be quiet on the roads these past days, Seken, one of Rorok’s cousins, said as they started to set up camp for the night. They were only a day out from Thornstone. They could have kept going and reached the city by midday tomorrow, but they were tired from the trip and wanted to rest.

Aye, Rorok said, looking north along the trail. Usually, they would pass dozens of human, dwarven, and even a few elven caravans traveling to Rootbridge this time of year, all coming from Thornstone. This time, they had only passed a handful and that had been a few days ago. Since then, they had seen nothing but an empty road, which was strange. I be expectin’ to be seein’ many more on the road since we be gettin’ close.

Think there be trouble a’ead o’ us? Rordre asked. He was the youngest of the Marbleblock brothers and had a habit of worrying too much. Concern clung to his mind ever since passing the few caravans they met along the road. All of them had been comprised of humans and none of them seemed to want anything to do with the dwarves. They simply ignored them and went on their way. Though Rorok and his men had been met with scorn before, these people seemed especially hostile this time around. Most of them just attributed to jealously, saying that the humans could never complete with dwarves. Rordre wasn’t so sure the answer was that simple.

Nay, Rorad replied as he spread out his bedroll. He was the second born of the brothers and was a little more carefree than his youngest sibling. Ye know ‘ow the roads be as the seasons be changin’. They be empty then they be full. I be bettin’ we see more on the morrow.

‘opefully, they be filled with dwarves and not ‘em dirty orc kissers, the third in the Marbleblock clan said angrily. Rorcron was the most hot-tempered of the four brothers and had wanted to teach the humans a lesson, but Rorok asked him to let the rudeness pass. The angry dwarf grumbled a curse and held his tongue as they left the humans behind.

The dwarves prepared their separate spaces, secured the horses and carriages, and started a large fire. For the next hour, they talked and ate a large dinner composed of hard cheeses, spicy meats, and mugs full of sweet mead. After finishing, they cleaned up and readied their beds. Usually, they would have left a mess, but being so close to home, they wanted to get moving early, so they made sure everything was put away.

Be it me or do ‘em nasties seem scarce lately? Gehem asked. Though not related to any in the group, Gehem had the best eyes among them and was constantly scanning the surrounding plains, looking for trouble. Since they had left Rootbridge, they had seen no signs of orcs, goblins, or other dangerous creatures. All of the caravans they passed a few days ago also said–when they actually spoke–that they had no trouble since leaving Thornstone. The roads were perfectly clear and safe. That wasn’t unusual but there were usually some signs of goblinkind in the area, be it spore or a half-eaten animal they had discarded. Lately, it was as if they had all just disappeared.

Aye, it be a bit quiet, Rorok said, but I say thank Keggrar. The less that be standin’ in our way, the quicker we be gettin’ ‘ome.

Aye! most of the dwarves replied in agreement.

Just be givin’ me one orc to vent me anger on, Rorcron said, still thinking about the humans who had disrespected him. Just one.

A few of his companions nodded in agreement. Rorok simply shook his head and lay down for the night. The next morning, after sleeping in a few hours longer than they planned, the dwarves woke and continued on their way.

As before, they road ahead of them was empty of other travelers and Gehem continued to see no signs of anything even remotely dangerous. The plains were quiet and the sky was clear. Rordre said he had a bad feeling but since he always had a bad feeling, the others ignored him. Rorcron even punched him in the shoulder, ordering him to stop being such an idiot.

Late that day, as Solaris started his slow descent toward the horizon, the city of Thornstone came into view. They had seen the Heldonrock Mountains many days before, but now they could see the tall stone walls of the city. It warmed all their hearts to see such a familiar sight and soon they were all smiling at the thought of familiar faces and good food. They may only be here until the morning, but they all looked forward to spending time in what many considered their second home.

The gates be closed, Gehem said to Rorok. He usually traveled in one of the middle carriages to keep watch in all directions, but since they were almost home, Rorok wanted him up front with him.

Ye be sure? Rorok asked. He knew it was almost dark, but Thoriddon usually kept their gates open well into the night.

Aye, Gehem said after looking a little harder at the city. And there be many guards walkin’ the walls. It be like they be preparin’ fer war.

Rorok slowly brought his carriage to a stop. His brothers did the same behind him. Knowing that Rorok would not stop unless something was wrong, Rorad brought his carriage up to the right of his brother while Rorcron came up on the left. Rordre rode up next to him. The others formed a line behind them with the five remaining carriages. All of the dwarves then looked toward Thornstone, wondering what would cause the city to behave in such a manner.

Thoughts of why the gates would be closed quickly started to go through Rorok’s head. He thought back to the empty roads and the lack of orc sightings. Then he thought of what Rordre said, about trouble being ahead of them. Had the city been in a fight? Were they preparing for some type of battle? Were the goblinkind in the area gathering for some type of assault? There were so many possibilities and answers as to why Thornstone appeared to be on the offensive. But there was only one way to find out for sure.

Come on, Rorok said, snapping the reins, slowly moving toward the city. Rorcron looked over at Rordre.

I guess yer words not be as crazy as ye be thinkin’, he said to his nervous brother. Rordre said nothing and followed Rorok.

They slowly moved toward Thornstone, careful not to make any threatening maneuvers. The last thing they wanted was to agitate the no doubt already on edge guards that walked the walls. Though they knew they would most likely be seen as allies of the city, none of them wanted to take any chances. Rorok hoped that once they found out what was going on, they could help if needed. They may have wanted to get home, but if the city was under assault, it was his duty, as well as the duty of every dwarf who labeled the people of Thornstone their friends, to lend aid.

He knew that they had been spotted for the guards started to point and scramble to the front of the battlements. Rorok watched as guards rushed to the wall. In less than a few seconds, the amount of bodies doubled and many of them were holding bows. Thankfully, they held them down, but Rorok knew it would only take a few seconds for them to draw and fire.

Halt! came a loud shout as Rorok and his men came upon the city. They stopped fifty feet from the gates and looked up at the Thorns. The crew of the Marbleblock Company looked up at angry eyes, which surprised them all.

What the ‘ells be ‘appenin’ ‘ere? Rorcron asked no one in particular.

Quiet! Rorok snapped in a hushed whisper. He looked all over the wall and saw many of the guards staring them with disgust and anger. Most looked impassive and calm, but the bitterness in the others overshadowed their companions’ expression.

Identify yourselves! one of the Thorns yelled. He was dressed like a minor general and had an impatient tone to his voice.

Rorok Marbleblock, of the Marbleblock Company, Rorok said, knowing that honesty and cooperation were the best ways to get to the bottom of what was happening. These be me brudders and business partners. The rest be–

Where do you hail from? the guard asked forcefully, cutting him off. What was going on? the dwarven merchant asked himself.

We be travelin’ from Rootbridge, he said, looking at the minor general but watching the rest of the guards out of the corner of his eye. We be on the road fer months and finally be ‘eadin’ ‘ome. Something was defiantly wrong. He didn’t know why the guards seemed so upset, but he did know that their ire was apparently turned toward them. Did we do something wrong? Rorok asked himself. He quickly thought of his last trip to Thornstone, trying to remember if he or any of his crew had crossed someone the wrong way. He didn’t think so, but the guards were certainly angry with him and his men for some reason.

Where’s home? the man asked angrily, as if he was upset that his questions were taking so long to get the answers he desired.

That be Castle Thoriddon, Rorcron said with annoyance. He was already tired from the road and the guard’s attitude was grating on his nerves. Now be openin’ the gates so we be gettin’ a few winks befer goin’ ‘ome. What ye be closin’ ‘em fer anyway?

Rorcron! Rorok said.

What?! he said angrily.

Shut it, his brother said. Rorcron was about to offer another retort, but he looked at his brother and noticed him intently watching the guards. Rorcron followed his gaze and saw that many of the guards had raised their bows and many more had unsheathed their weapons. Though they had not yet pointed any arrows at them, their intent was clear.

What be goin’ on? Why they be takin’ up arms? Rordre whispered with worry, but no one was listening.

Rorok ignored his brother and continued to stare at the guards. As soon as his brother had mentioned Thoriddon, the minor general’s eyes narrowed and he leaned back from the wall, disappearing from sight. That was when the dwarven merchant saw the guards ready their weapons. There was no doubt in his mind that something bad had happened in the city when he was gone, and it had not involved any goblinkind.

Me lord? Rorok said loudly after a few moments. He knew the man was still there for he could hear him talking to someone on the other side of the battlements. The other guards just continued to wait and stare.

What be ‘appenin’ to the city? We be gone since spring and be ‘earin’ no news. Somethin’ bad be breakin’? He was trying to assure the man and those guards on the wall that he had no idea what was going on. He opened his mouth to try to further assuage their fears, but before he spoke, the minor general appeared.

Until further notice, the man said strongly, reading from a scroll he was holding in his hands. No dwarves shall be allowed entrance to the city of Thornstone. All those dwarves traveling to the kingdom of Thoriddon must find an alternate route. The pass through Thornstone has been closed and shall remain closed until deemed safe by the mayor and his council.

The dwarves looked at the minor general in shock as he calmly lowered the scroll, rolled it up, and tucked it away. He then looked down at them, watching as his words sunk in. He had clearly shocked them into silence.

Rorok could not believe his ears. Thornstone had never before shut their gates to their dwarven neighbors and certainly not to those travelers seeking the kingdom. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that something disastrous had happened between the city and his home. Had there been some type of battle? Was someone assassinated? Did the mayor and the king have some type of fallout? He usually kept up with any news involving Thoriddon when he was out on the road by paying wizards to send messages home, but he had not done so this trip. Business had been unusually good and he had simply forgotten. Now, he wish he had. Perhaps he would not be as stunned.

Closed! Browtrock exclaimed. What ye be meanin’ closed? And what be goin’ on that ye be shuttin’ dwarves out? Where be our kin that be livin’ in the city? Another of Rorok’s cousins, he had distant family who lived in Thornstone and was not about to be turned away until he knew what was going on with his family.

That information is not your concern, the man said plainly.

Every eye in the dwarven caravan widened in disbelief at the minor general’s words. To say that something so obviously grave that involved their fellow dwarves was none of their business filled all of them with anger.

Not our concern me ‘airy arse! Rorcron growled.

We be ‘avin’ family be’ind yer walls, Seken said. Ye best be tellin’ us what be ‘appenin’ to ‘em!

You are in no position to threaten me, the guard said with anger. He was clearly agitated at being spoken to in such a tone.

It not be a threat, Basualk, another cousin, said with strength. We just want to be knowin’ what be goin’ on with our kin and why ye be shuttin’ us out o’ the city we be welcomed in fer decades. Ye tell us our brudders’ well bein’ be none o’ our concern but we be tellin’ you diff’rently. We be ‘avin’ a right to know ‘bout ‘em.

You have no rights here, the man explained, his eyes filled with annoyance. I have told you all you need to know.

It not be right! Rorcron yelled, shaking his fist at the city. Many of the dwarves around him started yelling again, pointing fingers, and demanding to be let into the city. Usually Rorok would be doing the same, but he was still too surprised by the current events to voice his opinion.

Enough! the minor general shouted, finally having enough. He raised a hand in the air and every guard with a bow raised it and aimed their arrows right at the dwarves. That had the desired effect the guard wanted for the dwarves quickly went silent. Their eyes widened in surprise and darted to the dozens of steel tips pointed in their direction. I have given you all the information you are going to get. Now it is time for you to move along. I don’t care where you go, but be gone from our gates. Now, before I lose what patience I have left.

The dwarves looked from the minor general to the bowmen and finally to Rorok, who was still looking at the scene before him in speechless astonishment.

Please, he finally said as the silence stretched on and the man grew more agitated. We just want to be knowin’ what be goin’ on. We be gone fer months, out on the road, sellin’ our wares. If somethin’ be ‘appenin’ between the city and Thoriddon, we be knowin’ nothin’ o’ it. We just be concerned ‘bout our kin and their families.

Again, the guard said, that is none of your concern. That information is reserved for the mayor, his advisors, and to a select few. Now, move along.

Me lord, Rorok pleaded.

I’m not going to tell you again, the angry man said. The bowmen tensed and drew back a little more, telling Rorok that they were ready to carry out with their threat.

With no other option, the defeated dwarf looked to his companions and motioned for them to turn away from the city. Rorcron looked as if he wanted to say something, but Rorok quickly shook his head, telling his brother it would be best to stay silent. The other dwarves, wearing looks of frustration and anger, moved their carriages away and they angled them to the east. They would have to travel along the base of the mountains until they found a trail that led to Thoriddon. Rorok knew of a handful of small paths that led to the kingdom, but none of them would be as easy as going through Thornstone. Most of them were quiet dangerous in fact, filled with sharp rock and steep cliffs. Unfortunately, they no longer had a choice in the matter. If they wanted to get home, that was their only option.

After they had turned around and started moving away from Thornstone, Rorok turned and looked back toward the city. Though the guards on the wall had lowered their bows, every one of them, including the minor general, continued to watch the caravan. The continued to do so even when Rorok could no longer see their eyes.

What the hells happened between Thornstone and Thoriddon? Rorok asked himself as he faced the road in front of him. What could have possibly turned the nations, nations that had been allies for generations, against one another? The only way to find out was to get home.

* * * * *

Except for the flickering of flames, coming from the hundreds of torches that sat against the tall stone walls, the large room was silent. A handful of gentle currents of air wound their way through the long hall, curling around the thick stone columns or brushing against the arched ceilings, but they were quiet as they went, silently moving without care or worry. A few even tickled the beards of those dwarven guards that stood on watch in the grand throne room of Thoriddon, but they ignored the breeze and kept their bodies rigid as stone, constantly on guard. Like the wind, they were silent and without concern for it had been centuries since they had taken up arms and actually fought within the chamber. Many of them were relieved by that fact but more than a couple secretly wished battle would find them every now and then. As an old dwarven saying went, steel was not the only thing that could become rusty.

It had been decades since any real battle had come to the halls of Thoriddon. Any fighting now usually took place in the tunnels deep within the mountain and the only dwarves that were involved were those heading out with a mining expedition. Sometimes, a handful of dwarves would go out, simply looking to hone their battle skills, hoping to run across evil monsters or wandering creatures. Unfortunately, unless they went deep enough, they usually just found empty tunnels. The dwarven kingdom had been around for so long that those creatures intelligent enough to know better gave Thoriddon a wide berth. A stray beast would occasionally come close, but they never lasted long against strong dwarven steel. No, nowadays, any dwarf wishing for adventure or a few bruises would have to leave the kingdom and search for it in other places. Many did, traveling across the world, looking for a few skulls to bash, but they always ended up returning home. The call of the thick stone walls was too strong and before long, almost every dwarf ended up spending their remaining days within the kingdom. Many of those guards that stood within the throne room now had already had their odyssey across Terrial. A few were still young and secretly yearned for the road. Their time would come eventually, but now, they had a duty to perform. They would stand guard with their peers without complaint or regret, even if it were as boring as counting stones.

Though the guards stood watch with little care on their minds, they were not the only ones in the room. One more dwarf was among them, and he sat on the large jewel-encrusted throne, his mind thick with worry and regret. He cared nothing for the wind or the thick stone that surrounded him. He did not crave battle or fret over losing his battle prowess. No dreams of exploration or travel gnawed at his bones. Something much more important concerned him. Something much more pressing than fighting and bloodletting coursed through his thoughts and in the end, it would decide the fate of both his own kingdom and the human city that sat at the base of the mountains. In the end, it would decide the fate of thousands of lives.

King Daghall Thoriddon sat on his stone throne, staring out into the long hall, deep in thought. His eyes were set on the large doors at the end of the hall, which led into the room, but he was not seeing the strong steel doors. He was not seeing the grand designs or decorative runes that painted the surface. The only thing before his eyes and swirling in his mind were the three people that would decide the fate of his kingdom.

Eight days ago, Daghall had met with two people he hoped would deliver his message to Stone Bluecreek, the mayor of Thornstone, and end the conflict that had developed between the human city and the dwarven kingdom. In that message, the King had expressed his deepest apologies for not issuing a warning to the people of Thornstone about the dangers their caravans faced in the north. Blinded by his foolishness and wounded pride, Daghall had let Stone send multiple expeditions to the Granite Ridge Mountains, unaware that a small army of giants were enslaving everyone that arrived. Dozens had perished and even more had been injured. Thankfully, the people had been freed by a small group of adventurers and those that survived, including many dwarves from Thoriddon, returned home. Riddled with guilt and ashamed at what he had done, Daghall eventually sent a letter to Stone, explaining his actions, how his silence had caused the death of many of his citizens. Also included in that letter was an offer to pay the city and those affected by the tragedy with gold and precious gems from Thoriddon’s treasury. Daghall hoped that would start the healing process, but it only made relations between the two nations more strained.

Dwarves and humans within the city and in the stronghold of Tarkin’s Point, which housed both races, started to fight and bicker. The humans were outraged at the revelation of the dwarves’ silence that led to their loved ones’ pain and the dwarves were angry that their human neighbors started to treat them like second-class citizens of Thornstone, even though many had lived in the city for decades. Hoping to alleviate the tension, Stone and Daghall, along with many of their advisors, met to discuss the terms of the King’s offer. Unfortunately, that only led to more fighting as Thornstone demanded more even though the King’s advisors thought the offer was more than generous. Without an agreement, the meeting ended and the fighting in the city continued to escalate.

Knowing that he was wrong and wanting to make amends for the pain and suffering he had caused, Daghall relented and decided to give Stone everything he wanted, knowing it was the right thing to do. Unfortunately, Daghall knew that giving such treasure to the city would cause great unrest with many of his own people, so he called together only a few and told them what he planned in secret. He knew such a decision would shake Thoriddon for many years, but he knew it was right and he would willingly face the consequences when they came. The most important thing to him was to right the wrongs he had wrought upon Stone and his people.

With that thought in mind, Daghall had met with Orin Brightsun, a human, and Brom Strongskull, a dwarf of Thoriddon, to deliver his message to Stone. Since both had been in the group that had liberated those that were enslaved by the giants, the King thought that the human and dwarf were the perfect pair to give his message to the mayor. They were a symbol of the future Daghall hoped to bring, a picture of the races being united and since they were considered heroes in the eyes of both his kingdom and the human city, there was no one better to go meet with Stone. They agreed willingly and set out for Thornstone, to deliver peace and hope to the city.

Since Orin and Brom had left, Daghall wondered the halls of his kingdom, his mind thick with worry and fear. He had hope as well, but he could not help but think about what would happen should Stone refuse his offer. Though he was giving the mayor everything he asked for, even more in fact, Daghall could not shake the concern from his mind. That feeling on grew as the days slowly passed. Usually, the journey to Thornstone took up to five days, but he had heard that Brom and Orin had reached the city late on the fourth. Since then, he had heard nothing from his contacts within Thornstone. He assumed that they would meet with Stone the next morning, but he could not be sure. There was still fighting between the dwarves and humans in the city and stopping such conflict may take up most of Stone’s time, but Daghall had to think that when the mayor heard that his message was in the city, since he was expecting it, he would make time to hear the words. Once again, he could only speculate.

Eight days, he whispered to himself. It was two longer than he thought would be necessary. He had hoped they would be back by now. Thornel Flamekeg, his friend and closest advisor, told him that Brom and Orin planned on teleporting back to Thoriddon via Tarkin’s Point, but they had yet to return.

Thinking such thoughts only made him nervous. Perhaps they met a few days later, he thought to himself. Maybe the mayor has heard the words but wanted to bring in a few extra ears to hear the message. Daghall knew that would take time, but he did not think it would be days. Could they have possibly refused the offer? he then thought, thinking such an option outrageous. He was giving them more then they wanted. Would they actually say no?

Bah! he grumbled, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. One of the guards looked in his direction but said nothing. They just be delayed, Daghall said to himself. They just be meetin’ later than expected.

He did not want to think about what would happen should Stone reject his offer. Last time, those in the room had almost come to blows and that had only been between a select few. This may bring both nations to war and that was not something Daghall wanted. But what can I do next? he asked himself. He already agreed to give them want they wanted. He could not give anymore. His people would already be enraged when they found out what he had done. How much more angrier would they be if they found out his secret offering was still not enough? What would happen to those dwarves still living in Thornstone? What would the other surrounding cities do? If this led to a war, would the cities of Ferovale, Indelshire, and even Arrostar join with Thornstone? Though Thoriddon traded with those cities, Thornstone was their main partner. Most of those cities were comprised of humans as well, but dwarves made up a small portion of the population. What would become of them?

Damn it all! he growled, pounding the stone armrest of his throne, venting his worry and frustration. The sound echoed throughout the hall but eventually faded. A few guards shifted uncomfortably. They knew well the trouble facing their king, but they wisely stayed silent and continued to stand guard.

Ye need another walk, Daghall said to himself, pushing himself to his feet. His stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders, trying to relive the tension. It helped a little but his muscles were still tight and sore, as was his head. This entire ordeal had given him a headache, a headache that had lasted ever since this started. He was looking forward to it being over, so he could actually have a good night’s rest, something he had not had in many months.

I be walkin’, he said as he reached the bottom of the stairs that led to his throne. The guards said nothing and made no indication they heard. Daghall cared little. He just walked to the end of the hall. The two guards standing near the doors parted and opened them for their king.

When the doors opened, the King walked out, already thinking deeply on Thornstone, Stone, and his two messengers. He had only taken a few steps before he heard someone shout.

Me king!

He stopped, taken by surprise. When he looked up, he saw Thornel, quickly moving down the hall in his direction. Beside him came a dwarf in thick gray robes and sporting a staff topped with a large purple gem. Daghall knew him to be Tuvok Darkanvil, a wizard of considerable power. Two other wizards walked behind him, all of them with grave expressions on their faces. And behind them came over two dozen dwarves, most of them his advisors, the same ones that were with him when he met with Stone in Tarkin’s Point. They all looked as though they had received dire news.

Aye! Daghall said, bracing himself for bad news. What be wrong? What be ‘appenin’? He thought he knew the reason for the large crowd, that the news of his offering had finally reached the kingdom, but based on the looks he was seeing, he wasn’t so sure. He expected anger and rage. What he was seeing now was concern and confusion.

Me king, Thornel said when he reached Daghall. Somethin’ be ‘appenin’, somethin’ in Thornstone.

Aye? Daghall asked as a new surge of fear coursed through him. Be explainin’ yerself and be quick ‘bout it.

Tell ‘im, Thornel said to Tuvok.

Me king, the wizard said, his voice thick with uneasiness. As ye be knowin’, we be ‘avin’ a few dwarves in Thornstone that be sendin’ us magical messages every so often. We be receivin’ the last full one when Orin and Brom be arrivin’ in the city. Since then, we be waitin’ and listenin’.

The fact that he did not already mention the message they carried filled Daghall with a small bit of relief. He would have thought that was what this confrontation was about. Though the wizards knew Orin and Brom went to Thornstone, none of them knew the reason why. They only knew that the pair were going on a personal errand for Daghall and they were to be watched over carefully. They had their suspicions but never gave them voice. Something else was going on.

Aye, Daghall said, already knowing this. The wizard swallowed hard.

Well, he continued, we be receivin’ a broken message two days ago.

What?! the King exclaimed, angry at not being told about a message, no matter how broken it happened to be. The wizard took a step back, as did all the dwarves behind him as the king’s voice echoed down the hall. Ye be receivin’ a message and not be informin’ me? Ye be daft!

Me king, Thornel said, stepping between them. Please, be listenin’. Daghall looked at him, anger in his eyes, but when he saw his friend’s dire expression, he calmed himself, knowing that something was wrong.

As I be sayin’, Tuvok said, the message be broken. We just be gettin’ a few words. It almost be like someone be tryin’ to stop the sendin’ or be ‘avin’ some type of magical block. We first be thinkin’ nothin’ o’ it, but after gettin’ three more broken messages, we be knowin’ somethin’ be wrong, so we be tryin’ to unravel the block. We be bringin’ this to you earlier, but we not be sure what it be, so we be wantin’ to wait ‘til we be ‘earin’ the whole message.

And?! Daghall asked impatiently.

There be some type o’ fight on the trail to Thornstone, the wizard explained. Some ‘umans be travelin’ back to the city after droppin’ off some supplies to the Point. While they be campin’ on the trail, they be attacked. Most o’ ‘em be killed, but some got away and be walkin’ back to the city. That be where the message ends. The other messages be sayin’ much the same.

Aye, the King said with confusion, not really understanding all the grave expressions. Though the trails were relatively safe, dangerous creatures were sometimes spotted. But why the uproar?

Me king, Thornel said sadly. The attackers be dwarves.

Daghall stared at his friend in stunned silence. At first, he thought he heard him wrong, but when Thornel started nodding with sorrow, the King knew he had heard correctly. Dwarves had attacked and killed humans from Thornstone.

How could this be possible? he asked himself, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock. His mind was suddenly a whirlwind of fear and worry. If this was true, then everything he had been working toward, everything he had been hoping for, was gone, destroyed in an instant. This would completely crush any goodwill or hope for reconciliation he had established with Stone. Who could have done such a thing? Which dwarves in his kingdom would have acted so boldly? Could they have possibly found out about his secret deal? Was this their attempt to crush it? If so, why would they do this? This would only lead to war and that would only mean death. So many questions rolled around in his mind and none of them had any answers.

Ye be sure? he asked softly, still trying to make sense of it all.

Aye, Tuvok said. All three messages be sayin’ it be dwarves. The men that be survivin’ be sayin’ as much.

Might they be mistaken? Daghall asked.

We not be knowin’, Pilgut Crevicesealer said. He was another wizard. All we be knowin’ is what the message be sayin’, but they be certain that be what they ‘eard when the survivors be returnin’ to the city. They be sayin’ it be a group o’ dwarves that be attackin’ ‘em.

Daghall could guess how the people in the city would react after hearing such news. Since the relationship between the two races were already strained, this would surely make it worse, perhaps even causing a full-blown riot. If the message had first come in two days ago, the city may already be embroiled in a civil war. If that were the case, wouldn’t they already know about it? Shouldn’t messages be coming in even as they stood there wondering what was going on? Could the city be blocking any dwarven messages on purpose? Maybe nothing happened. Daghall did not believe that thought for an instant.

What be the city’s response? Daghall quickly asked, truly worried about his fellow dwarves and the pair of messengers he had sent into the city.

We not be knowin’, Tuvok replied. We not be able to get in contact with any o’ the messengers. That magical barrier still be in place.

So they were blocking the messages, the King thought. But why? Why would they block all information from the city? The only answer was that they did not want the dwarves in the kingdom to know what was happening. Surely Stone would not let the dwarves be harmed, Daghall hoped. Or would he? What reaction would he have to news of the attack? And who in the hells were the dwarves that acted in such a manner? If I find them, Daghall said to himself in anger, they will not enjoy what is left of their lives.

This must be a lie! someone in the crowd said loudly as news slowly spread to the other dwarves in the area. The crowd had already almost doubled as dwarves started to talk about the attack.

No dwarves be goin’ against the king! said another voice.

‘ho be the ones attackin’? someone asked

They killed ‘em all?

What be ‘appenin’ in the city? I gots friends there.

This be leadin’ to war!

The voices grew as Daghall stood there, trying to sort through his thoughts and the worries that ran through him. The wizards started to talk to one another, analyzing the messages, searching for hidden meanings, while Thornel and the other advisors started to argue about what was going on in the city and what the kingdom should do about the news. Soon, the entire hallway was alive with voices, most of them attempting to make sense of the situation. The news spread quickly, flowing through the hallways like a tidal wave. Soon, everyone within a thousand yards of the King knew what happened on the trail to Thornstone, and it continued to spread.

Me king! came a frantic voice above the tumult. Me king!

Move aside! someone shouted.

Be gettin’ out o’ the way!

Daghall looked up and saw the crowd part before him. Dagam Tunnelrunner came running toward him. The small, unnaturally slim dwarf was a messenger for many of the wizards. Because of his size, he was much faster than any dwarf in the kingdom, so the wizards used him to carry messages. Now, he was sweating profusely, having obviously run all the way from some chamber located across the castle. When he came close to the King, he skidded to a stop, almost toppling over.

Me king! he said, clearly out of breath.

What is it? Daghall asked hurriedly. The quick dwarf obviously has some type of news. Every dwarf went silent as he opened his mouth.

Groundar be deciph’rin’ another message from Thornstone, Dagam said in gasps. It be sent…shortly after…the one ‘bout the attack.

Out with it, boy, Daghall snapped.

The dwarves, Dagam said, in Thornstone. They…all be…imprisoned!

What?! Daghall, Thornel, Tuvok, and a handful of other dwarves all shouted at the same time.

The mayor, the out of breath dwarf explained, be roundin’ up all dwarves in the city after ‘e be ‘earin’ ‘bout the attack. ‘e be puttin’ ‘em in the dungeons and some o’ the warehouses, keepin’ ‘em under lock and key ‘til ‘e be findin’ those that be committin’ the murders. None be allowed to leave.

The reaction to those words was immediate. Almost every dwarf nearby practically exploded in outrage.

This be an act o’ war! someone shouted.

They be jailin’ ‘em all because o’ a few?

Our kin not be criminals!

This be the final straw!

I say we march!

A few voices were a bit more reasonable, calling for restraint and understanding, but many were angered and called for the blood of the mayor and his people. The news about the dead humans immediately left their minds. All they knew now was that their kin had been unlawfully imprisoned by the humans of Thornstone and such an injustice cannot stand.

They’s be sorry fer this!

I not be fergettin’ such treatment o’ me brudders!

They think we all guilty because o’ the actions o’ a few!

I say kill ‘em all!

THAT BE ENOUGH! came a shout that shook the very walls of the hallway. The voice had obviously been amplified by magic, but it had the desired effect. The ground trembled and every dwarf went silent, shaken by the power and strength of the words. When they regained their wits, they turned their eyes towards the speaker, to their very angry king.

King Thoriddon stood looking at them with a look of pure rage. His eyes burned like the forges and his face looked angry enough to melt steel. He stood with his hands balled into fists and he eyed the crowd with disdain. I not be ‘avin’ talk o’ war! he said with force, his voice still amplified by some type of spell that Tuvok had cast during the chaos. Not yet, he then added, bringing confused looks from every dwarf in front of him. Even Thornel looked befuddled, unsure of what his king was thinking.

Ain’t no one be knowin’ nothin’ except what we be ‘earin’ from those messages, he said. "‘til we be knowin’ more, I