Comzy
Registered user
Registered: 01-2011
Posts: 29
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Nurlmann the Dwarf
Nurl could not believe he was there. Since he had gotten to the island, he had met many strange beings and made a few friends. Now, it was time he faced what had been troubling him the most, he had come to schedule a meeting to speak with the dwarven representatives of Khaz'Nazim.
He doubted the meeting would go very well, and was fearful that his anger would cause him to say something foolish, or worse, illegal. It wouldn't be the first time. He had done it before, far too many times to count, in fact. He may have been a little wiser in his later years, but the dwarf within him came out, especially when he was emotional about the situation. And when it came to dwarves living with goblins, emotions were running, well ... let's just say they were high.
It was a confusing situation, and with all his free time, he had gone around asking fellow dwarven and talking to anyone who would lend him the time. So far, he had only gotten himself more confused. He had pulled every string he could find, and when there was no more, he realized he would have to take things a step further, he would have to follow political channels.
"Name?", the crooked nosed man at the desk droned, never looking up to see who was in front of him.
Nurl was not good when it came to the public, he was even worse with those that seemed to have an arrogant air about them. The clerk was definitely arrogant.
"A said, name? Are you paying attention shorty?"
Nurl bit his tongue as best he could, and was surprised that he was able to keep restrained."Nurl o' Clan 'ogglesteel."
"You are not in the registry," the spindly man retorted. "You will need to register as a citizen to speak with any member of the diplomatic court. Didn't you know that, SIR?"
Nurl couldn't have furrowed his brow any further. "N...nae, lad. Dey sen' me 'ere firs' dey did."
"Well now you know. NEXT!"
It was probably fortunate that the clerk knew nothing of the dwarven tongue, for it could have caused a major scene if he had. After Nurl had muttered enough curses as he felt proper, he then moved on as the man had suggested.
"Moradin's beard," he boomed as he realized he would probably be there another three hours, waiting in line to register. Nurl heaved a deep sigh and stood for a moment, then as he exhaled, he walked over and got in line. He was going to see this through.
He had nearly lost his wits, though, when the short lady working the registration booth had declared that he was missing form 4-G, and that he had better hurry, the line for that was usually long.
----------
After six hours of red tape and procedural detours, Nurl had obtained his meeting time with the local ambassador of the dwarven city. Now all he had to do was go and prepare what he wanted to say. Perhaps he would ask Kedri, Numos, Isania, or one of the others he knew. They seemed pretty good with words.
Nurl headed for the main doors. Downtrodden as ever, he made one final visual sweep of the building he had been in all day. He was not much for this sort of nonsense, he was more comfortable spending his time among his kin. More comfortable drinking and telling stories of adventures, pride, and honor; of the anvil and stone.
Perhaps he could do that again sometime. Perhaps he would see the day he would be sitting around with his kin, drinking and telling stories. He could tell of his adventures and learn more of this unique dwarven culture... if he didn't kill them first.
Last edited by Comzy, 2/5/2011, 5:28 pm
|
|
2/5/2011, 5:25 pm
|
Link to this post
Send Email to Comzy
Send PM to Comzy
Blog
|
Comzy
Registered user
Registered: 01-2011
Posts: 29
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Re: Nurlmann the Dwarf
For the first night in a while, Nurlmann didn't have nightmares. He would not be haunted by any visions of past mistakes, lost friends, or soured ale. Nurl didn't have nightmares, because he never fell asleep.
His mind had been racing, trying to figure out what he should do. There were many things happening on many fronts, most of which picked at him, nibbling at his fortitude and stamina. The latest developments, though, had definitely lifted his spirits. He had finally made contact with a few of his kin. Not the brainwashed citizens of Avendel who were fed the Andrunese propaganda, but real life dwarven kin. Breathing living, drinking, fighting, crafting kin.
They were holed up in an area of the Dragon Teeth Pass near the upper slopes of the Stormcrest mountains. Apparently, the Goblin King was losing his grip on the goblins, and they were now turning on the dwarves who were forced to live with them. It was a far cry from the story that had been painted by those in Avendel, and made much more sense to Nurl. The kin of Khaz'Nazim weren't living with the goblins, but were being watched and manipulated by them. It was enough to want to make Nurl scream.
What did the one dwarf say? That they had to 'close off the western tunnels'? The dwarves of Khaz were trapped with no way to escape, and no communication with the other side. Nurl seemed to ponder this a moment. How big was their network? Did Khaz stretch beneath a larger than expected section of the Stormcrest? It seemed so, and all the more reason to find a way to help. It is possible this was the remnants of an the eastern entrance, the western being far away, and hidden. But where? And how would he ever find it? There were many uncivilized and unexplored areas of Aolyth, it would take the rest of his lifetime. He was willing...
He had to help, and hopefully, with some persuading, he could get others he knew to help also. His people had to be freed. It would take time, and more information gathering, but in the end he would see the halls of his cousins, or die on route.
Nurl's mind turned to the upcoming meeting with the ambassador. He cringed a bit, wondering if it had been so wise to do so now. After the recent events, he had to wonder if telling him too much was such a grand idea. The one dwarf had told him about the fat cats from the city getting rich off the dwarven crafted wares. In Nurl's experience, such business transactions had bad seeds on both ends germinating into weeds. He had to be cautious. It was assumed the Goblin King was behind this mess, but others had to allow it to happen, had to betray the dwarven people.
Nurl scowled, biting out one of the foulest words in the dwarven language. It was not really a foul word to outsiders, but to adwarf, it meant all that was unholy, improper, and unjust in the world. Nurl held his thoughts a moment, repeating the word he had just uttered in the more common tongue, "Sandstone".
He sighed, realizing it still was worth his while talking to the ambassador. Perhaps, some of his new friends from Bodkin and elsewhere would be willing to come. It would certainly give him strength and perhaps a bit more level-headed-ness.
Nurl looked at his newly acquired time piece, a dwarven item that he had picked up, lost among the debris of the ambushed caravan. 3 hours until his post started in Bodkin. He would not be very awake this day. He hadn't slept right for over a week now. Nurl's thoughts, though, weren't on his work duties, they were on his kin. Nurl sighed a deep and stressful sounding breath. It was quite possible he wouldn't get any sleep after his shift either, for he was planning to return to Dragon's Teeth, to see if he could help his relatives out.
Nurl spent the next three hours thinking more than he had in the past 50 years of his life. If nothing else, he had made one definite decree. He would never go on a scenic boat cruise ever again...
Last edited by Comzy, 3/8/2011, 3:50 pm
|
|
2/12/2011, 11:47 am
|
Link to this post
Send Email to Comzy
Send PM to Comzy
Blog
|
Comzy
Registered user
Registered: 01-2011
Posts: 29
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Re: Nurlmann the Dwarf
It was a quiet evening in Bodkin, most evenings were. It were the other days that seemed to make up for it, stressing Nurl to the maximum. With the recent dog slaying, the ever-bearing Yewbender threat, the endless nightmares being cause by strange beings, and the quasi-threat of Sully, it was good to have a few days to relax, kick back, and down a couple pints.
With all the stress, Nurl felt good as he propped his feet up on the desk. Sure it was rather uncomfortable for a person of his height, but it made him feel important. Plus if anyone walked in, it would appear all was in perfect order, especially if that someone was Lord Rowley.
The evening hours were waning and the frogs were beginning to croak outside. Nurl lit a few extra candles as the darkness overtook the office desk in the armory. Normally, he preferred it dark, but today he had some work which required a bit more light. Nurl pulled out a rolled parchment that he had acquired just last evening. It was what, at the time, was assumed to have been a treasure map. The map itself, turned out to be a dwarven marker for a tomb. Amazingly, enough, the tomb brought far more riches than any buried treasure could have. Nurl had asked Isania for the map after the adventure was over. Having no real monetary value, it was just a keepsake for remembrance, or at least the others had thought. To the dwarf, the memories were quite strong, and this was probably the reason why Isania handed the map over without so much as a word being spoken. It meant far more to the homesick dwarf, and she felt good that it made him happy.
Nurl carefully unfurled the map, laying it flat on the table. His hands run across its surface, feeling the texture of the dwarven paper. No. It was not just sentimental value he had wanted with the map. Nurl knew, there was more here than met the common eye. He was dwarven after all, and knew well the subtleties of the dwarven craft. It was often the case, that such things had two purposes, or possibly other secrets to be revealed. Nurl hoped the map did as well.
The melting temperature of mithral; though the dwarves had no concept of degrees of temperature, they knew well enough the exact temperature at which mithral melts. Even non crafters, as Nurl was, had the inherent ability, almost as if it was inbred into them at a very young age. It was so ingrained, infact, that the concept seemed to return, from time to time, in other places.
Nurl produced a small vial from the hidden compartment that Phaeron had shown him. The vial contained a very small amount, though a very expensive amount, of pure mithral virgin ore. Along side the vial of ore, laid a small strange magical device he had gotten Mr. Senderthen to make, though this was not truly like the ones he sold to the rest of the public. Kedri had modified this one, to burn at the exact temperature it needed to. The exact temperature at which mithral melted.
Nurl had one chance at this, mithral was temperamental, and one screw up would cost him, monetarily at least, greatly. Virgin mithral ore was only virgin as long as it did not reach its melting temperature, once it did, the metal recrystallized in a different crystalline phase, creating its nearly impervious strength. A side effect being that the metal would not melt at such an easily obtainable temperature again.
The dwarf was surprisingly quick, the ore had been melted in the glass vial, and was now in a molten, silvery liquid state. He poured just a few drops over the parchment, and quickly wiped his hand across the page, smearing several silvery streaks into the fibers. It was not a simple technique, and was one only very few dwarven could learn. He was glad that for this one time, at least, he had learned well what his father had taught him. It was an incredibly small amount, and though his hand was stained with a silver hue, it was nearly unnoticeable on the map itself.
Nurl wasted no time, and held the map up to the brighter candlelight. As he stared at the map, darker lines began to form, transposing the existing map and adding a second layer of markings. It was almost like shadowing, from something within the parchment itself. The lines were vague and distorted, but definitely discernible now, leading through a branch of the western Stormcrest Mountains. The words Khaz'Nazim could be seen, written in dwarven runes, along with a larger path that led east. From what he could tell, a path lie under the mountain, hidden from the present day world.
Nurl smiled; the subtleties of the dwarf-kin. It had worked. Jax Stonewall and his clan had given him far more than some high quality magical items, and a wondrous tale of bravery and honor. He had given him hope. Nurl sat the map down on the table and leaned back, deep in thought. Now, it seems, Jax had given him a place to start looking. Nurl marked the area around the Kaddeth Academy. He was beginning to make some headway.
Nurl looked down at his silvery hued hand. The metal would absorb into his hand in a few days, leaving no trace that it had burned him when he worked it into the map. In a way, Nurl wished it would never leave, it was his treasure he had found, using his treasure map...
Last edited by Comzy, 3/8/2011, 3:37 pm
|
|
2/12/2011, 11:55 am
|
Link to this post
Send Email to Comzy
Send PM to Comzy
Blog
|
Comzy
Registered user
Registered: 01-2011
Posts: 29
|
|
Reply | Quote
|
|
Re: Nurlmann the Dwarf
Nurl got little out of the meetings he had with the ambassador of Khaz'Nazim. Their secrecy was overbearing, and it felt, to the dwarf, that they knew far more than they were letting on. There was, of course, no way to determine this, and so it looked that this avenue was at a stall. Nurl would not give up. He had knowledge of the eastern watch-post in Dragon Teeth pass and the passage under the mountain leading towards Khaz itself. Trade had to exist somehow, and he would not let the secrecy of the land get the best of him. He would find his way to Kahz and defend the city singlehanded, if he must. Just as Jax of clan Stonewall had done before.
|
|
3/8/2011, 3:45 pm
|
Link to this post
Send Email to Comzy
Send PM to Comzy
Blog
|
Add a reply
You are not logged in ( login)
|
