Chapter 1. On the Superiority of Dwarves"Nish Standardcrazes, Sire." Having made the required announcement the guard stepped back into the shadows beside the grand doors. Alone, Nish proceeded down the gloomy colonnade to the dimly lit throne at the far end. His boots echoed dully from the darkness beyond the slender supports and despite his preoccupation he found time to appreciate the elegance of their construction.
Nish stopped at the foot of the pedestal supporting the ponderous throne and waited. Upon the seat of power sat a dwarf swathed in cloth of funereal black and gray. More correctly he slouched in the chairs stone embrace, propped against a grotesquely carved arm rest as if slowly sagging beneath an unseen weight. He stared ruminatively into the darkness and gave no indication that he had either heard Nish's introduction or noticed his approach.
Nish waited in silence for a time but with no indication of initiative from the other, decided to break the silence. "You summoned me, my King?"
King Amost Dabblinginks plucked absently at his dark garments. No-one knew for certain what he mourned or that in fact his choice of garb signified anything at all. Most figured he grieved for a family long since lost to both time and the memory of his subjects. Others less sympathetic complained that he sorrowed for himself and his fate. Some conjectured that he lamented for The Uncertain Volcano itself.
"Do you judge the Dwarves preeminent amongst the civilized peoples?" he did not shift his eyes to his subject as he spoke and so it seemed his bass voice addressed the mysterious darkness beyond the colonnade.
"My lord?" offered Nish uncertainly, somewhat nonplussed and not entirely sure that the question was not rhetorical.
"A simply question requires no repetition," sighed the King gloomily to the dark.
Nish cleared his throat and decided to answer the question on its merit without speculating on the eccentricities of his liege. "Ahem. Well, there is no doubt in my mind that we as a people, us Dwarves, are unrivalled as a civilization, Sire."
Amost finally shifted to face his guest. He did not do it all at once. He moved as if on a single tie line directed by a slow and disinterested puppeteer. First one arm swung out to the other side of the chair. Then after a moment of supposed consideration he shifted his hips so that he was no longer leaning away from Nish. Lastly he levered his head around and propped his luxuriantly bearded chin on one fist before it could drop to his chest. The whole display left Nish feeling vaguely inconsiderate. If he had walked to be within the kings gaze from the first he could have saved him the apparent effort.
"Then we are in agreement," Amost finally replied. "Listen attentively now, for this next question is not so simple. Why do you believe...You, Nish. You. Why do you believe in the superiority of Dwarves?"
Nish studied the saturnine monarch on his throne as he carefully considered the query. At first thought the answer, or more correctly answers, seemed easily apparent to Nish and so he prudently decided to take his time in contemplation. King Dabblinginks impassively awaited his subjects reasoning, his slow and infrequent blinking the only evidence of his animation. He gave every indication of a willingness to wait without interrupting for as long as it took Nish to reach a conclusion.
Eventually, finding no trick in the question, Nish inhaled deeply to reply, "Our superiority is plainly displayed in our great works, unmatched by any rivals. In our art and our architecture. In our soaring structures and in our fathomless delvings. It is shown in our cunning mechanisms and in our unyielding steel and in so many more ways, but perhaps it is best and most simply reflected in the envious eyes of goblin, elf and man."
"I ask for the cause and you offer me symptoms," breathed the King dispiritedly. He had sat unmoved through Nish's speech and now remained staring into the young dwarve's cobalt eyes. Nish stiffened slightly but remained calm despite the King's bleak criticism.
"Will you enlighten me, Lord?" prompted Nish.
"There. In that question of yours is a clue to the truth," muttered Amost cryptically. "It is not
what the dwarves know or have done, Nish Standardcrazes, it is
that we know and have done it."
Nish pondered King Dabblinginks words for long moments but when it became apparent that he did not understand, Amost continued, "Slay a peacock and use its feathers to line a cap. You now possess an impressive cap. That you did not grow the feathers does not change the fact. Were the goblins to overrun us tomorrow with slaughter and claim the mountainhomes, our creations would be theirs, and thus by one measure in your summation they would be our equals. It is not so."
Amost slouched forward, holding the others gaze intently. "Steel is but a secret and were the elves to learn it even by treachery or guile you believe they would be closer to our match? They would not. Mechanisms are a genius not beyond the grasp of human intellect given time or instruction, and in its mastery would they become our peers? No."
Nish had began shaking his finger unconsciously, a habit of his when thinking or trying to remember. He was not a slow-witted dwarf and felt on the verge of understanding. Seeing this, the sepulchral king became quiescent again and waited.
Slowly Nish's wagging finger became still and he refocused on his expectant king. When he spoke it was in a speculative tone. "But they don't know and have not done, Sire. And neither could they hope to learn or create what we have, if we had not first done so. Is that it? It is not what we have learned or created, but that we have thought to seek the knowledge and put it to use in the first place."
Amost's visage remained bleak but he inclined his head to the younger dwarf. "There. That is the truth. It is our thirst for knowledge and our pursuit of it that raises us beyond the standards of others. It is not the lore we currently have, for knowledge owes loyalty to no master and what we hold now will inevitably pass to others. But if in that time we have gained new insight and created new wonders to overshadow our past limits, our preeminence is reaffirmed and assured. The Uncertain Volcano shall never rest on it laurels while I am King. All of which brings us to my reason for summoning you, Nish Standardcrazes."
Nish toyed with the thick braid of his long beard as he gazed curiously at Amost who was again shifting in his throne by slow and deliberate increments. Having assumed a new yet still entirely inappropriate posture the king asked in a subdued tone, "How many monarchs has the Uncertain Volcano known since the first Queen Zasit Pulleyford?"
Nish blinked doubtfully. "I'm unsure, my Lord, but it has been many-"
"Two hundred and ninety two, including myself," interrupted Amost. "I have studied the engravings
1. Do you know how long a ruler of the Uncertain Volcano is usually destined to live upon ascendancy to the throne?"
"Again I am unsure, Sire, but-"
"Four years. On average," interjected the King dourly. "I figured the math
2. Most managed one and none more than fourteen. Two hundred and ninety two dead monarchs over a thousand years. All but one of them requiring the establishment of a new line. The cost of royal tombs alone has done more to impoverish us than any famine or war in our history!"
Amost was now at his most animated since his guest had first arrived, but his bitterness remained a strangely detached thing. "None doubt the throne cursed, how could they? And we have long since learned to keep our best and brightest from ascending it. That is how the burden has fallen to me in my misfortune and there is no reason to suspect that I will out live those who came before. I am in my first year of rule and if history is any indication I do not possess the luxury of time in which to consolidate my legacy or the elevation of my people."
King Dabblinginks paused to release a protracted breath through his long nose. The dwarven king seemed to slowly deflate and crumple in upon himself before Nish's eyes, the brief intimation of the vigour of moments ago now gone. "I charge you with a task, Nish Standardcrazes," intoned Amost grimly, "and I will not offer you the luxury of refusal."
"I will serve you to the best of my abilities, my Liege," replied Nish apprehensively.
"You are to go forth and seek new knowledge to distinguish your King, our civilization, and our Gods," instructed Amost somberly. "But I will not cut you loose without direction, for I know that to be as sure an invitation to failure as any other. No, you will limit your empirical crusade to one field."
Somewhat dazed by the mounting implications of all that he was hearing Nish asked tentatively, "Which field, Sire?"
"Restraints," replied Amost flatly.
"My Lord?" queried Nish quizzically.
"Restraints!" sighed his King testily. "You know, both ropes of cloth and chains of metal. You are to investigate the use of restraints and report new knowledge of their application."
Nish shifted his weight from foot to foot as he quickly considered his options. He did not find many. "Forgive me, Sire, is there not a more promising field you could task me with exploring? Have we not already established all there is to know of ropes and chains? "
"You think so, do you?" rumbled the king softly. "You think we know restraints in their totality and that there is nothing more of interest to glean? Pray that you are wrong, or your time in the field will be long as you are not to return until you succeed. This is the task that you have been given and you will accept it without complaint, as is the dwarven way. Others will be bestowed tasks perhaps more burdensome than your own, do not think that I would limit my legacy to a sole enterprise."
Nish dropped his eyes from his bleak liege and inhaled deeply while digesting all he had been told. His eyes moved to the monstrous throne supporting the largely supine monarch and for the first time he paused to admire its extravagant bulk. It held the king aloft like a titans hand proffering a sack of rocknuts to the unseen sky somewhere beyond the fortress hold. Cursed or not, it was an exceptional piece of furniture and it lightened Nish's spirits.
"I have but one question, Sire."
"Only one?" muttered Amost. "That hardly bodes well for you in this endeavor."
"Why have you chosen me?" quizzed the young dwarf.
"Ah. Egocentric curiosity. That I can understand and easily answer. I chose you, Nish Standardcrazes, because I deem that you have some of the skill and disposition required to lead this expedition with at least an even chance of success. And to be blunt, you have not made yourself so indispensable to me in Papertemples that I can not afford to risk your life in a venture that may well be doomed to failure and death."
Nish accepted the kings explanation stoically.
"I have done all that I can by you, Nish Standardcrazes," intoned Amost pensively. "It is the millennium year by our calendars reckoning. An auspicious year to begin. I will allow you command of six other dwarves so that you are seven when you venture out, a holy number known to be lucky. I give you free rein in your choice of companions. And though you have the weight of royal decree I would request that you attempt to involve those dwarves eager to accompany you if possible. I chose you partly for your nascent ability at keeping rebellion at abeyance, but you'd be best served if not quashing mutiny at every turn. I suggest you pay especial reverence at the shrine to Lūk and Vumom for they are the gods most intimately linked to your task. I am informed that you are a worshipper of Vunom. That is apt. Please see the clerk on your way out for details on the credit you will be allowed to purchase supplies."
As he spoke King Dabblinginks slowly jerked and rolled over to lay against his thrones gnarled arm, his eyes once more surveying the darkness beyond the colonnade and his doleful mind once more free of Nish.
Nish bowed gravely to Dabblinginks royal back before retreating from the oppressive chamber and its moribund occupant.
1 I counted them in region1-world_history.txt 2 Again worked it out from region1-world_history.txt
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Topic: Ropequest (Read 2341 times)