The Dwarven Kingdom of Thazdulrene
Story I
by
Geltab
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Geltab on Smashwords
The Dwarven Kingdom of Thazdulrene Book I
Copyright © 2010 by Geltab
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
Testimony I
The war of the Two Kupoinin
As Told by Bultan the wizened: Bultan’s Introduction
Mak-Thazul is the capital of the under the mountain Dwarven kingdom of Thazdulrene. Being closed for now shortly over a millennium in human years, this being the time measurement we shall use since this is the beginning of a new age for humankind. Most readers of my introduction will no doubt be men should we succeed in our endeavors. The dwarves at last understanding had perfected their mining, smelting and rock work to seemingly supernatural proportions according to mortal knowledge. Their underground mountain halls burned bright as the noonday sun, their mastery of light to banish the darkness of the underground mountain kingdoms cannot be properly expressed in words of any Language known and must be witnessed. I can try to attest however that I, Bultan, wizard of the sacred spark, servant of Xamueiz do this day in the year 11,146 by my counting of personal age do declare I have just visited Mak-Thazul as I have not done for over a thousand years. Upon spending one year in their kingdom this is my reporting on the current status of the dwarves. Forgive me for jumping to disparate subjects there is much information to relay after such a long time and now the opportunity to tell the tale grows short. Firstly, and most important all the myths and legends of men as well as my memory are true beyond imagining.
The lost Dwarven kingdom not only still exists but thrives under the whole world, more than is known even to wizards imaginings. Their number and size is only comparable and understandable to ants within the animal kingdom, their scope and power has truly expanded beyond any sight. Surpassing what I remember even in the old days before the great stone closing. Their numbers were nowhere near as great in years past. The dwarves have not troubled with matters other than their own stonework for many generations. The reason for their calling upon me to enter again had yet to reveal itself. The kingdom is currently ruled by Ul-baine son of Thrages, he is grandson of Kupoinin, the longest lived of any known dwarf, and they all live to at least six hundred in human span. Not only long lived, but he is responsible for the decision to isolate the kingdom from all but dwarves.
Their hall of records is immaculate in recording this and all matters. It is peculiar such a hardy and stout rock driven folk would also contain a class dedicated to preserving every shred of their history. Yes, they are divided into classes as all the lore dictates, that much is true. However there are no classless dwarves as some tales tell. They don't allow classlessness; any such dwarf when born classless although rare is immediately executed as well as any involved in the distortion of the rigid class hierarchy established. Their hearts are as hard as their stone in general, there are a few exceptions. One almost feels sorry for the "goblins" they have met in forgotten underground battles. The last one was over four hundred years ago according to the Dwarven records. They are called goblins because the word from myth and legend so accurately describes them in both behavior and appearance. They of course do not call themselves goblins and are called Eshken in their native guttural language.
One Thousand years ago a goblin warlord who fancied himself a king calling himself Kupoinin in a mock reference to the great king of the Dwarves ambushed two Dwarven halls as weddings were being celebrated ,as was their evil plan to maximize the carnage both physical and mental. One wedding hall was for the king’s niece. He was, as fortune would have it not attending as a riot between two houses over a newly discovered gold vein had erupted in another distant part of the city. All were killed at the wedding ambushes, the corpses mutilated in the most horrible fashions imaginable and piled in an apparent act of random cruelty and murder declaring to the Dwarves that the Eshken are here and they choose where they strike, the underground rock belongs to Eshken not Dwarven kind. This insult was beyond acceptance even for the most timid of people known and the dwarves are anything but timid. They resolved to go to war, not a typical campaign, but a war of extermination, no marching for victory and honor, but marching until every single Eshken they knew of in their Southern lands lay dead.
The feeling was then and only could they truly thrive and live in peace. Dwelling alone as the kings under the rock the whole Dwarven race was of one mind on this subject. Dwarves being a naturally martial people had no hesitation at going to war. It was only a matter of resolving internal strife, a task much easier said than done for those familiar with the Dwarven disposition. Once united, such a fearsome war machine is hard to recollect even among the oldest of the dark wars. The only comparison would be when Zangoath first brought evil into the world in its infancy. However, such an extensive tale is for other times. The war is officially known in the Dwarven hall of records as the war of the two Kupoinin in reference to the Dwarven king and in reference to the goblin warlord mockingly using the same kingly name. Though the records tell the Dwarven king was very old at the time and apparently close to death. His son Thrages led most of the armies of Thazdulrene.
Speaking on the Dwarven armaments, what can be said about the armor and weapons of the Dwarven armies of Thazdulrene? Each dwarf warrior is fitted in a personal robe of chain mail armor, from the top of their wide heads, over their short and stout bodies all the way to the muscled wrists and ankles. The weight of the mail alone would keep a full grown man pinned in place. On their hands they wear another thicker type of armor called Rethlin, articulated and fitted to each individual’s proportions. Their boots are fitted in the same manner of the same material. Over their helm of mail already fitting their thick, skulls they place an outer helm of the same material as the gloves and boots studded with jewels describing rank, class and family lineage. The outer helm reaches down to under the shoulders and covers up to the eyes and nose so they can see perfectly and are protected at the same time. Each has a belt fitted with four razor sharp daggers, each boot carries two daggers. The number eight is special number to the dwarves; for certain instances unknown to even myself.
Two small one sided axes are left on their back forming an X and in their hands their favorite weapon, which each has been training with for a hundred years or more. A double edged battle axe made of a material that never bends or dulls, stronger than even the Rethlin armor. The blade is covered with a poison which the dwarves are immune to but others are not. The poison is said to come from a fungus that grows under some mountain stones. The stench of the poison is unbearable and overpowers even the normal stench coming from a full company of dwarves on the warpath.
Their Martial prowess is only matched by their craftsmanship. I can say that when the light during the day streamed in from the shafts carved in the mountainside, or when the light from the stars combined with the Dwarven ability to amplify the light of a single torch using special crystals made their halls and armor gleam as a thousand noonday suns, and in the darkness, believe or not, these crystals glowed a translucent almost ethereal silver. I tell you truly, the dwarves have mastered the crafts of metal and stone. Never in all my long years, can I remember such a sight of a metal monster as their army appeared a thousand years ago and it has grown immensely since then. What a fearful sight! Seeing upwards of one hundred and fifty thousand angry dwarves united under one banner, completely fitted in gleaming armor and weapons marching to destroy every Eshken or Eshken dwelling they come upon until their bloodlust is satiated. Most of the dwarves being veterans of many campaigns, a more grim and determined folk when angered do not walk this realm.
This is why to this day, even as I write this there are no Eshken in the southern lands of Oleskia below the forest of Sharmdewmon. The nearest goblin village or hole is over the lands and mountains as far north and away from Dwarven habitation as is possible. This is also why the Eshken now live in holes rather than deep rock, Dwarven fear consumes them. The Eshken learned a terrible lesson which they have never recovered from. Nor should they ever forget the price they paid for their arrogance, and the fear that memory instills in their race perpetually. Perhaps it will keep them from making a similar mistake again and call for the dwarves to spill above ground and search the entire world North, South, East and West. Searching for and destroying all Eshken down to the last. Eshken were known to have no fear before the war and be filled with pride, they fear the dwarves now and with good reason.
Many other races are coming of age and wondering if the doors to the mountains of Thazdulrene will ever open again, or if the doors actually exist within that seemingly solid stone. For it has been so long fact has become legend in the minds of men. Many wish to establish trade and good will. There are others who wish to probe for treasure and to foolishly test the ancient martial reputation of the Dwarves. None can say what is true anymore, after all it has been long centuries since any man has seen or heard from a dwarf except for their brief march above ground a thousand years ago.
The races of the world do not know a new Dwarven king sits on the throne. Ul-Baine has come of age and swiftly into his power. This king does not believe in further isolation of the dwarves. He believes, and correctly so that isolation has gone as far as it can and will now only cause them further harm. The king sees both the negative and positive effects the isolation has had upon the dwarves unlike his predecessors who saw only what they wished. He stands ready to rejoin the world of Oleskia, and establish relations with the races inhabiting the world be they helpful friend or helpless foe. The other races of the world, including that of the race of men have no way of knowing this information, so they go about their daily tasks as they have done since time immemorial.
A tale I briefly spoke of, is still told among many human villages of a Dwarven army passing by the edge of Sharmdewmon forest above ground a thousand years ago. The tale says the mere sight of the army caused many of the village men to pass out in fear at the dwarfs’ terrible countenance. For such things, dwarves, their items and the metal adorning them had never been dreamed about much less seen with the eye. This sighting of course, unknown to the people above ground coincided with the war of the two Kupoinin. The move and the march were part of a rear guard attack by Thrages in a stunning moment of clarity and genius. The dwarves did not stop in any human villages and made all effort to avoid any contact with others during their short march, and under strict orders. This, of course led to very few people witnessing the event as the march also took place under cover of darkness. Still, the story spread like wildfire on the parched mountainside. Prince-king Thrages and his gleaming legions of armored, scarred up and angry, stinking dwarves marching above ground to exterminate Eshken only whispered about by men in far off underground mountain lairs. Truly such a tale could not be made up if one were to try for a lifetime! Young Ul-Baine was there as well, full of the vigor of arrogant youth. Such a phase is often magnified within dwarves. Juvenile male dwarves coming of age are notorious for their violent outbursts. Dwarves are considered somewhat juvenile until they reach at least one hundred years old.
They shone brighter than the sun they did, two of my ancestors went blind just from looking at their armor, as the story goes. This is but one of the many quotes told in stories all over the land about this march. Ul-Baine still remembers his brief time above ground, and this is partly why he is eager to open his kingdom once again. The way he explained it to me was, taking that first breath of air above rock was both so exhilarating and frightening, it filled his heart to bursting and he needed his people to have that feeling of knowing both worlds over and under. I must say here, it is unknown to all even to myself why the Dwarven line of kings lives so much longer than the average six hundred year life span of other dwarves.