In 1, the Merchant of Echoing founded Mountaindune and Whiskeredgloves, twin mountain halls dug into the mountain range known as the Enchanted Tower. By 18, both settlements had been broken, crushed beneath the heel of so many nightmarish horrors. The dwarves fled into the Enchanted Tower, making their homes in the highest spires, far from the influence of man or monster.
For generations, the Merchant of Echoing was a civilization in exile - a kingdom with no monarch, a country with no capitol. The dwarves must have lived day to day, feeding upon whatever meagre fungus could be scrounged from natural caves, and cowering in fear from the mountain titan, Usu Wavedpearl the Murky Deer. Nobody knows for sure - all dwarves who were alive during those days are dead, except for the commander, Ézum Openeddoors, and no records survive from those dark years.
Then, in 126, more than a century after the ettin Baspu Powerhale slew the last fool who stood in defense of Mountaindune, a group of seven dwarves descended from the peaks of the Enchanted Tower to found a new fortress, a bastion which would house dwarvenkind in peace and prosperity forever. With only a wagon hewed of tower-cap, the pioneers, naming themselves the Diamond Cloisters, struck the earth in the shadow of the Fire of Channels, a fuming active volcano overlooking the Musty Field, a terrifying temperate grassland. At that time, hopes were high, and prospects for the future were grand, despite the plagues of zombie giant badgers and constant goblin raids - and yet, the future seemed bright.
Alas, twas not to be.
It is 234. A mere eight dwarves remain, the last surviving members of a race that has always been struggling against adversity. Out of these eight, however, only one is a natural citizen, and thus a member of the Diamond Cloisters: Ézum Openeddoors the Robust Stoker of Lances. Despite being the militia commander, he is only acquaintances with one other living dwarf - the others are doubtless only aware of the presence of a legendary warrior, slayer of countless demons and last remnant of the original fortress.
For the first time, the dwarves of Weatherwires have elected a mayor who is not a member of the Diamond Cloisters - not an original citizen. Tun Dyefight, merchant, has been elected despite her having been strong-armed into joining the failing fortress in the first place.
Now, more than ever, these recruited dwarves regret their decision to willingly join their brethren beneath the earth. They gave up their mercantile prospects for the promise of endless wealth in the deeps - but they have come to realize that the promise of the queen, Domas Tickcities, was empty. The days of glory and wealth in Weatherwires are over - the artifacts have been sealed far beneath the earth in hell itself, and very soon the fortress itself will fade into myth forever.
The doom of Weatherwires had been apparent to all of the merchants and their guards for decades. The way to the surface was sealed, however, and the levers guarded by the militia. Tun and her comrades were, for better or worse, citizens of the fortress until its end.
Or were they? In the late winter of 234, Tun considers her options. The commander would die soon, she was sure - death itself kept a constant company about him.
As the last member of the Diamond Cloisters, Ézum was the only reason the merchants remained in the fortress. Weatherwires was dead, and yet the commander continued training, day in and day out, in the antechamber above the stairwell to hell - but the stair was sealed with obsidian hatches, controlled by levers. Clearly the commander was mad. Tun considers her options - she and her recruited companions could either stay and die, or escape and try risk their chances.
The year was almost out. The doom of Weatherwires approaches.
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Topic: The Saga of Weatherwires: Children of Dwarves (spoilers + image heavy) (Read 155835 times)