Mosus hadn’t spoken to anyone in days. Not even his wife could get him to speak. He would not even come out of the forge. The elders said it was normal, that occasionally a dwarf would be stricken by such a strange mood. However, that didn’t make Mosus’s friends and family feel any better.
Finally, after almost two weeks, he emerged carrying the most magnificent sword anyone had ever seen. All manner of gems were embedded in the handle. Gold, silver, and platinum designs ran up the center of the blade, which was made of the finest steel and sharp enough to split a beard-hair. Oddly, Mosus seemed just as astonished as everyone else by it. He remembered nothing of the past weeks, and loudly insisted that he hadn’t made the sword. The elders decided to have it placed in a special niche in the armory and guarded at all times.
Many years later, miners discovered a strange natural chamber deep underground. Mysteriously glowing pits were scattered across the floor. Suddenly, grotesque, demonic beasts began to drag themselves out of the pits and started attacking the miners. Fortunately, one of the miners escaped and ran to the barracks to warn the soldiers.
While everyone else ran to the mysterious chamber, Lorbam, the fortress’s most skilled swordsdwarf, ran to the armory, where Mosus’s sword was still kept. As his hand closed around the sword’s hilt, an odd feeling of total clarity passed over him. In that moment, he knew that he was destined to use this sword.
He later said that he didn’t clearly remember what happened next. It was just a blur of stone walls, demonic figures, flashing steel, and blood. Those who saw him said he was only a blur, cutting through the monsters like paper. From that day forth, he was known as “Lorbam the Demon-Slayer” and his sword as “The Blade of Purity.”
A great feast was held in his honor that night. Everyone praised him for his combat prowess, and for saving the fortress from the monsters that had badly injured most of the other soldiers. When it came time for Lorbam to speak, he thanked everyone and stated that Mosus (who had died of old age just a few months ago) was also partially responsible for his success. He also declared that he would be leaving in the morning; he said the sword seemed to be drawing him towards the ancient ruins in the north.
After the feast, Lorbam’s family and closest friends desperately tried to convince him to stay, but he was resolute. “If I stay here now, the sword will drive me insane. I must go to the ancient ruins,” he said, as he gathered what he needed for his voyage. By the time everyone woke the next morning, Lorbam was gone along with the sword.
After months of traveling, Lorbam had finally arrived. At last, he stood before the ruins of an ancient temple of a forgotten religion. However, as he entered, he heard distant chanting from deep within the structure. Apparently it wasn’t completely forgotten. Following the voices, Lorbam eventually came to large room deep underground.
As he entered the room, he saw about a dozen cloaked and hooded figures standing around a deep chasm in the center of the room. Arms outstretched, they were the source of the incomprehensible chanting. As the chanting seemed to reach a climax, Lorbam crept closer. Suddenly, as one, they jumped into the hole, still chanting. He froze, and then quickly moved to the edge of the chasm as their voices faded.
For the first time since he fought the demons in the mines back home, a sense of clarity overcame Lorbam as he gazed into the abyss. Then, he noticed that his sword was glowing slightly, but was almost immediately distracted by a deep rumbling from within the pit. The sound shook the entire temple, and Lorbam could hear walls crashing down up above. He took several steps back from the edge and was about to run for the surface, but the sword seemed to speak to him “This is what we’re here for, to stop it.”
At that moment, a huge dark creature with evil red eyes appeared from within the chasm with a roar. It was still pulling itself out of the pit, but already nearly filled the room. Lorbam seemed to enter a trance and started slashing at its hands where they gripped the edge of the hole. Thought his sword seemed to cut the beast, the gashes quickly faded, and the entire assault didn’t even draw the monster’s attention. It continued to drag itself out of the hole.
Lorbam noticed that its chest was now above the edge of the pit. Realizing the fruitlessness of his previous strategy, he attacked that hopefully more vulnerable area. At the first cut, the monster clutched its chest, trapping Lorbam against it and losing its grip on the edge.
Thinking quickly, Lorbam continued to slash at its chest, ignoring the fact that he was probably falling to his death with the beast. It seemed surprised that it was falling and confused that its chest still hurt. Before it could react, Lorbam had carved into its chest (there was no blood) and discovered what looked a heart, a hard black lump. The monster tried to grab him, but Lorbam had sliced away so much of its flesh that the hole in its chest was deeper that he was tall; it couldn’t reach him.
Before it could think of something else, Lorbam had stabbed the lump. His sword, glowing brightly, sunk into it up to the hand guard. At this, the creature let out a blood-curdling roar and spasmed violently, throwing Lorbam away from it. As his grip on the sword slipped, it seemed to speak to him again “We did it; it’s dead.”
Suddenly, one of the monster’s huge arms slammed into Lorbam, smashing him into the wall of chasm. When its arm moved, Lorbam could barely see the sword, still glowing, in the beast’s chest. As his vision faded for the last time, “It’s dead” echoed thought his mind again, and he thought, “Yes, we did it....”
Author
Topic: A DF-inspired story (Read 1179 times)