Fires blazed, lighting the darkness and bathing the stone halls in a series of ruddy orange glows, the sound of metal clashing and screeching echoed across the vast space, hundreds of deep voices boomed and resonated, each one joining together in a chorus that matched the hammering of steel in perfect harmony.
Hey ho! (clang!), hey ho! (clang!)
Grungni hear our prayer! (clang!)
Hey ho! (Clang!), hey ho! (clang!)
Forging night and day! (clang!)
The ore! (clang!) Is strong! (clang!)
Bend it with a blaze! (clang!)
Hey ho! (clang!), Hey ho! (clang!)
Melt it through and through (clang!)
Amidst the chorus was the voice of an engineer, diligently assembling the parts of various guns, each piece clicking into place along with the rhythm of the song.
With Az (click!), and Klad (click!)
Ratkin's bane is made (click!)
With Grund! (click!), and Grong! (click!)
Grobi's doom we make (click!)
With Rhun! (click!), and Thrund! (click!)
Dawi wins this day (click!)
Hey ho! (click!), hey ho! (click!)
Elgi we've broken you (click!)-
The song was interrupted by a series of loud steam whistles across the work space, signaling the end of the current shift. The dwarfs began packing up their tools; many of the stout creatures began wiping away the sweat from their brows and they chatted casually amongst each other, all looking forward to spending some time at the local taverns.
The Engineer began packing up as well; removing a sweaty leather strap tied to the face with a series of magnifying glasses attached, designed to either take a much closer look at delicate machinery or to see the inscriptions of runes or the surface of a cut gem. The Engineer then removed a leather apron which was drenched along a white tunic underneath, taking a swig of tepid water from a leather skin, the engineer wiped away some of the dribble from a beardless chin. The Engineer noticed some co-workers giving looks with more than few having lewd grins, Vanyra Skorrisdottir gave a grin and wink of her own at her co-workers before leaving the Foundry.
All across the city of Karaz-a-Karak, dwarfs were finishing their work for the day and began making their way in droves to the various taverns and pubs intent on a good feast. Vanyra undid the bun her hair had been tied into to let it down, her auburn hair cascaded down reaching to the bottom of her shoulder blades, she changed into a simple woolen tunic and re-did her hair into a single short braid.
The scene at the Troll's Toll was one all too common throughout the hold, Dwarfs were draining down tankards of various beers and ale, they wolfed down generous portions of meat and bread, there was the usual bit of friendly roughhousing, smoking, boasting and gambling. The Troll's Toll was a favorite haunt amongst the Rangers and the passing Slayer who would often display trophies and skins from various monsters such as goblins, orcs, trolls obviously, skaven, various breeds of beast men and other things.
Vanyra ordered the usual from the barman, a bowl of kuri her favorite with a loaf of bread and a flagon of beer. She joined in the revelries of her kin, taking part in a game of blind folded az throwing at several taxidermied skaven, playing bagpipes with the bards, a few casual flirtations here and there, just another night.
Later that night, Vanyra staggered home; even in her drunken state she still appreciated the grandeur and beauty of the capital city. The protective and proud faces of the ancestors could be found looking down or across, reminding the dwarfs of the glories they can achieve, the countless gemstones studded into the ceiling and shining like the stars in the skies. There were the great pillars which held up the ceiling each inscribed with runes, gems, gold and various decorations which dazzled the eyes.
When she arrived at the thick oaken front door of her home she fumbled a bit with the key trying to get it into the hole and was eventually able to work the lock, she miraculously made her way to bed without knocking around any of the furniture or decoration scattered about. Vanyra's home was a simple thing by dwarf standards, lit by gas lanterns, it was a two-story building with seven rooms, the building and the rooms themselves were square in shape and carved from the stones, her home was situated on the western slopes of the Anvil mountain.
It had a balcony which granted a view to the Forest of Gloom and the grobi infested Black Spider forest, the old dwarf road leading to Black Fire pass and even in the distance the lands west known as the Border Princes. The balcony also was a good place to do laundry as from there she kept a metal basin for washing, attached to the wall by the doorway were a pair of stone handles with holes drilled through, the holes held a pair of ropes tied to both ends where she would hang soggy clothes to be dried by the sun.
Her home's two floors one on the 'ground level' and another going down, the rooms on the ground level was the kitchen which has a stove, a larder, a drawer full of cutting and eating utensils, a stone cabinet of cups, tankards, flagons and other drinking containers, another cabinet containing some imported drinks from human lands and of course beside the cabinet of drinks were two wooden kegs of beer, one of which was propped upon four wooden legs and already with a spigot attached. The second room was living room of which there was a hearth, some cushioned chairs and couches of dwarf craft, a small wooden circular table with a pair of dining chairs, and a wooden shelf with books meant to entertain, among Vanyra's current favorites was the series by an Imperial author 'My Travels with Gotrek'.
The lower level of her home was connected by two flights of stairs which led to a fork shaped hall. On the east end was the largest, her engineering room where she kept her various machines, gadgets, other mechanical items and books regarding such topics. On the west end was the privy and the bathing room, the purpose of which should be self-explanatory but like many dwarf homes was connected through a series of pipes and tubes which connected to a natural stream thus ensuring a steady flow of water which drained then out of the mountains. And finally at the center was her bedroom where she kept a single bed, a dresser full of clothes and an armoire of family heirlooms and keepsakes from her past.
When she awoke the following morning she continued her daily routine, she drank a large tankard of beer which held enough nutrients to last the day, she made sure to wash and clean herself before heading back to the foundry where she was employed, one of many across the entire city. And so the day went as normal either she was assembling guns, cannons, catapults or clocks, then when the work day ended she went back to the Troll's Toll and joined the revelry with her kin once more.
Born and raised near the capital of the Dwarfs, she belonged to one of the surface clans or the Skarrenawi in the language of the dwarfs, her particular clan is known as the Sky Hearths of which was part of a surface town called Khazid-Zon. At an early age Vanyra had shown an affinity towards machinery and technology, taking apart clocks crossbows, firearms, a few other common house hold devices and putting it back perfectly in place, it was at the behest of one of her father's cousins a member of the Engineer's Guild that Vanyra learned to become an Endrinkuli, she studied engineering in Zhufbar for many years and was deemed to be satisfactory to the elders. Afterwards she spent a number of years in Barak Varr helping build a variety of ships from the Ironclads to the underwater traveling Nautilus, she then had spent the last dozen years in Karaz-a-Karak.
By the physical standards of her kin, Vanyra was very lean but she was strong like a wolf in its prime, her father had been a Ranger who taught both Vanyra and her older brother Thori the skills of his trade, especially the way of Grobkul, She had spent much of her childhood as well as whatever chance she could nowadays to go running around the wilds and hunting game. Her mother had been an apothecary and herbalist, she would often go out into the wilds with their father or ask him to get for her various plants needed to make medicines, draughts and tonics.
Her elder brother, Thori was once a Ranger like her father, the two of them had slain many green skins, wild animals and beast men. Before she had left for Zhufbar, her brother had become an adventurer like their father had once been, he would sometimes send letters back or would even come back himself regaling kith and kin of his travels and the gold he had made. He was a quite a role model to Vanyra when she was a child, she often wanted to be like him, to travel the world, seeing foreign lands and finding lost wealth like the heroes of stories.
Unfortunately for her, dwarf culture is somewhat restrictive for its daughters, the reasoning though at the least was sound because there were significantly fewer girls born when compared to boys as such, the women-folk were highly precious to the dwindling race and must be protected. To Vanyra's view, at least their lots was much better than those of the humans who seemed to have some sort of universally innate view that all females were highly inferior to the males and were only good for producing children, keeping the men fed and being around to romp.
Around a decade ago, her father had met his end during a skirmish against the hated Dawi Zharr, by all accounts at the least he had met a good doom, shooting down several of the tainted ones before being shot himself, her mother died of natural causes not long afterwards from the grief often refusing many basic bodily needs and deep in a depression. Her tale although may be sad, was one common to a people surrounded by foes. But like many others of her kin she found the strength to move on and to at the least try to forge a better future, unfortunately, her brother had not taken it as well too. Thori had tagged along with their father at the time verifying to see if it was true about the Dawi Zharr in the territory of Karaz-a-Karak. When their father was slain, Thori had vowed vengeance against the Dawi Zharr; he left for Karak Kadrin to take the Slayer Oath for he felt that he was responsible for their father's death. She often prayed that he would find or has found a good doom, and often wondered if he still lived.
Now at the age of sixty-one, still relatively young by the counting of her people, Vanyra lived and worked along with her kin, doing her part in its industry, she never had much thought on marriage, she was more interested in making things with her hands rather than… other parts. Aside from making the usual weapons and gadgets of war, she also spent time making things for everyday use such as pipes, stoves, clockwork toys and even designing some unusual things like a thick glass jar attached to a small metal platform with blades at the bottom and a crank at the side, the crank would cause the blades to spin quickly and slice up whatever food was inside the jar. the usual sort of things here and there in the home of an engineer
The days went on and she continued her routine as she did for the last three years, assembling, drinking, with the occasional bit of field testing, designing and hunting from time to time. On one night at the Toll, she was approached by a grizzled looking Slayer, the slayer's tanned muscular body was covered with scars and runic tattoos, and his long beard was tied into three braids, with a large pointy mustache, his right eye was milky white with a scar running across it down to his chin, his other eye had a garnet hue
He wore a ragged pair of trousers and boots that would make an ufdi faint if one were to wear it, she saw that there was a leather strap across his torso and saw the hilt of a sword tied to his back, a curious choice of weapon for a dawi. Around his waist were twin double-bladed axes which dangled from the handles, each tied to his belt, there were also a number of human looking skulls around his waist, more than a few she noticed with deformities or features that were clearly not natural such as two extra pairs of eye holes with one set on the lower jaw and another set where the forehead should be.
"Ye be Vanyra Skorrisdottir, aye?" said the Slayer rather gruffly with a deep gravelly voice. She noted that his accent was strange but could not figure out what it was
"Aye, that is I" she said, somewhat tensely.
The slayer nodded and put his hands around the strap in front of his torso, he removed the sword which was held in place by a dark red sheath, he handed to sheathed weapon to Vanyra and nodded
"Yer brother wanted ya ta have this" he said solemnly
Vanyra's eyes widened at the words and many questions raced through her mind, she struggled with what to say next, her mouth was open, her jaw twitched and her eyes slowly gazed upon the sword. She recognized the design of the weapon as of being the same kind used by the commons swordsmen of the Imperial army, the hilt was bronze and emblazoned with an anvil and a foaming mug of beer on top, its grip was wrapped in fine crimson leather strips and its guard was shaped with an ancestor face with the beard splitting into two form the cross guard.
"Yer brother be findin' a good doom, met his end killin' a bunch o filthy Kurgan and the Tainted from Zhar Naggrund"
At the word of that desolate land of the traitorous Chaos Dwarfs, many of the patrons pounded the tables, and spat curses at the Dawi Zharr, an eavesdropping Slayer obviously deep in his cups muttered a bit too loudly "lucky bastard".
Vanyra ignored the other dwarfs and ordered another a tankard of ale for the scarred Slayer. The dwarf accepted and took a seat at her table; he took the drink and thoroughly enjoyed it as if he had not had a good drink in a long while. After the scarred slayer had settled, Vanyra spoke up
"H-how did this happen?" was all she asked with more anxiety than she wanted
The scarred Slayer wiped the foam off of his beard and continued his tale
"Well long story, short, we be meetin' in a decade ago in Karak Kadrin, took the Oath there all formal like and we be stickin together since then" the slayer took another swig of his drink and continued while Vanyra listened with undivided attention.
"So anways, we just be travelin' around 'ere and there killin' beasties and letting manlings pay us fer it, eventually we be makin' our way ta the Ostermark in the Empire abou' two months ago where we helped some manlings kill off some troublesome Kurgan with cannons, and well I be already tellin ye how that went fer Thori, lucky bugger smashed up three cannons and their crew before going down from a Kurgan axe, I killed the bastards meself after" the slayer then patted one of the skulls on his belt.
Vanyra took this all in, unsure how to feel for one thing her brother was dead and that was a wound she had closed before and now had just re-opened, on the other hand he at the least he had met a good doom so now he would be in the halls of the ancestors. She gave a deep sigh and thanked the scarred Slayer, she offered to pay for his drink but the Slayer swiftly declined saying that he owed Thori a bit of gold and felt that he could repay him for that way, aside from of course her being a rinn and all.
"Thank you for telling me this" she said stoically, a somewhat bashful look came upon the slayer as he rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. The Slayer suddenly had a surprised look and reached for something on his lower back, he pulled out a tome, no larger than four inches long and five inches wide, it was bound in hardened leather, it had a thick number of pages which were yellowed with age, upon the spine of the book was a thin leather thong intended for easy carrying, a bronze circle depicting seven runes, remembrance, oath, grudge, honor, duty, family and blood were placed upon the center of the book. The bronze circle was attached to a leather clasp which went over the pages and attached to a bronze buckle on the underside of the book.
"Err before I be forgettin lass" he said
The Slayer offered the book to Vanyra who took it with curiosity, it had no writing upon it and she gave questioning look to the slayer who shrugged. She attempted to open it but it would not budge, Vanyra resolved to go home early and more sober than usual and figure out a way to open it; she looked to the slayer and said
"Before we part ways, I would like to know your name"
The Slayer seemed to puff up his chest and replied
"Jurgen Olafson o Kraka Ornsmotek, me fair rinn" he said proudly
One of the Norse-kin thought Vanyra. That certainly explains his collection of mutated human skulls and the accent she noted mentally.
"Well again you have my thanks, if you were Thori's friend then I will gladly consider you as one too" she said with as much formality as she could muster.
The Slayer gave her a nod and replied "Little need fer that lass, yer brother was a good friend, and a damned fine fighter, I've drunk ta his memory and hope that I be findin me own doom soon", the slayer then raised his drink
"I hope you find a glorious doom my friend, one worthy of tale and song" said Vanyra, raising hers as well
And with that the two parted that evening; the Slayer went his way, leaving Karaz-a-Karak while Vanyra went her way home with both book and sword. In her home, she left the sword dangling from its strap on a hook of a cloak hanger, she quickly went to her engineering room where various papers regarding the schematics on many tried and tested machines as well as those of prototypes and concepts were neatly arranged, tomes of knowledge in regards to physics, mathematics, mechanics, a treatise on the differences of chemistry and alchemy, history, cooking and various other topics were neatly arranged upon stone shelves.
Vanyra cleared her engineer's lectern where she would draw the designs of machines or take down notes from experiments leaving only the writing quill and ink pot by the edge; she twisted the knobs on a pair of gas-powered lanterns which illuminated the room in a yellow light, she attempted to release the leather clasp with her hands, this proved to be highly unsuccessful, she attempted again with a kitchen knife which could not cut through and ended up breaking, she tried with a knife and it broke causing her to fall back in surprise. Grunting with frustration, she threw up her hands and gave up, figuring that she will try tomorrow.
The following day Vanyra went to work with her thoughts occupied by the book, she spent the day producing gun powder in a separate workshop away from the fires of the foundries. When her work shift had ended she went to the local library and searched for a book regarding the disciplines of runes and magic, the aging library keeper, a spectacled grey bearded dwarf whose facial hair reached to floor pointed her to the section of the library she sought. After a few minutes of searching, she found the book titled 'The Gift of Valaya: A Codex of Rhuns and their properties by Ullya Maraksdottir', placing it upon a sturdy wutroth table, she flipped through the pages of the thick tome, the book was divided between pages depicting a single rune, which were then followed by several pages of varying lengths which described the history, purpose and use of the rune, but to actually make one was not written in.
Eventually, Vanyra found the runes she was looking. Many of the runes she was already familiar with as their concepts were highly ingrained into the culture of the dwarf race, but the rune of blood was one she was not familiar with. According to the tome, the rune of blood is sometimes used by the rhunkis upon enchanted items as a catalyst, by using a small portion of blood specifically dawi blood, the rune would be activated and whatever magic upon the item would come to life. The tome also spoke that the rune could also be used to ensure that only a single family would be capable of using the power of certain artifacts, unfortunately with the slow decline of the dwarf race, more than a few great relics have now become impotent with the loss of specific bloodlines.
Finally realizing what must be done, Vanyra returned the book and headed back home. When she arrived home, she went to a clay bin in the engineering room where she threw away scrap metal to be smelted. From the bin she took out the broken knife. She placed the dagger beside the tome on the lectern and left the room, she went up to her kitchen to prepare a simple dinner of roasted goat meat, bread, goat cheese and beer. After finishing her meal, Vanyra cleaned the dishes and plates with water and soap and wiped it down with a clean cloth; she took out a pewter cup from one of the cabinets and from the other she took out a bottle of Kislevite Vodka.
Pouring the imported drink into the cup, she returned to the engineering room. She placed the cup upon the lectern beside the book; she picked up the bent blade and placed it into cup, immersing the blade into the liquid. According to a book she kept called 'Durak Plague Smiter's Guide on Umgi and their Poxes', a rather insightful treatise by a dwarf physician turned Slayer who according to all accounts was a major enemy of the Plague God's followers and had met his doom slaying a daemon of that god, the book is intended for dwarfs who desired to travel to human lands and wished to avoid catching sicknesses that could actually spread to the dawi themselves.
According to 'Durak's Guide', plagues and diseases were all to common amongst human settlements both due to the heavy unsanitary living conditions they often enjoyed living amongst and their own naturally feeble constitutions, the book explained a number of medical practices which were useful such as placing surgical tools into boiling water or leaving it in alcohol for a period of time to cleanse it of any of the plague god's tiny daemons, the author had also left in the book, strong words of condemnation at the idea of using good dawi made brew for the cleansing and suggested the use of inferior human swills which were useful at the least to do the job, there were also suggestions to avoid using elf made ones, because elf drinks like their makers were weak and would do little to actually cleanse the tools.
After searching for some time, Vanyra removed the blade, she pricked the tip of her left index finger, feeling the tiny sting of pain and wincing a little, she placed her bleeding finger unto the center of the book. As soon as she pressed into it, the lights began to materialize among the runes, the clasp that kept the book closed made a click and it came off from the bronze circle. Placing her finger into the cup and wincing again as the sting of the imported drink cleansed the tiny wound,. She then used her right hand to flipp open the cover and read the first page
"Herein this Kron is the memories of grudges, debts, and oaths of the Sky Hearth clan. Return this copy of the clan's Dammaz Kron to the Lore Keepers for recording every fifty years or when possession of this Kron passes. Never forget a grudge; Never break an oath, and Never trust and elf. –Gudmund Stennarson, Lore Keeper of Thane Randevar Daemon-Hewer, Lord of Khazid-Zon"
Vanyra was surprised at was written, within these pages contained a miniaturized list of oaths, debts and grudges her clan's hold kept. Some entries were written by the Lore Keepers themselves, others by individuals with their own personal entries, the book itself dated back to seven hundred years ago.
She grabbed the cup and drained its contents, not caring for the blood or dirt inside; she felt the heat of the drink wash through her insides and knew it was going to be a long night. As she read through the list she saw many were crossed out with the words "recorded" with a date beneath signed in small letters on the upper right edge of the page as well as at the bottom, an explanation of who, how, where and when had the matter been settled followed by a the signature of who wrote it.
When weariness began to get to her, she had gone over seventy pages of crossed out grudges, oaths and debts, she found signatures of names she recognized from her great grand father's uncle to his cousin's brothers and his son, and so on. It took her over three nights just to go over the entire book; she spent her time after work to go over the tome, using a thin piece of flint as a book marker. After the four hundredth and ninety seventh page she began finding the signatures of her father's and seventy-one pages after that, she found the handwriting of her brother.
When she finally finished all six hundred pages of the book, she found nine un-crossed entries her brother had written. The first was his oath as a Slayer, to find a good doom; Vanyra felt a pang of sadness, she went to this page, placing her right hand on a white feathered quill and dipping its edge into an inkpot, she began crossing a line over the oath, she then added to the bottom
"Thori Skorrisson met an honorable doom in battle against the Tainted of Zharr Nagrund and the Kurgan followers of the Ruinous Powers in the Imperial realm of the Ostermark, witnessed & avenged by the Slayer Jurgen Olafson of Kraka Ornsmotek, written by Vanrya Skorrisdottir of the Sky Hearth Clan, beloved sister to the Deceased"
She gave a deep sigh as nostalgia and memories began to flood back into her, of younger and happier days, soon she was filled with foreboding at the implications. Among the entries was an oath dedicated to her to be given the sword as a gift. The sword in question was received as a reward from the Duke of a city called L'anguile for aiding them in the ending of elf raids upon the coast of Brettonia. This she had crossed out and signed, but what worried her were the seven remaining entries, there were three debts and five grudges, three of those grudges were of a great magnitude (more than the usual standards of dwarfs). If these three grudges in particular were left unsettled it would mean that her brother would not be allowed in the halls of the Ancestors, awaiting judgment, and would continue to wait till the end of time until those grudges were settled by his blood-kin or an oath-sworn of a next of kin's choosing.
Among the dwarfs, grudges are especially considered to be a matter of great import, every pact and oath must be honored with the specifications of the involved parties, otherwise even something as simple as missing a single copper coin in repayment for a service could result in dire consequences for it meant that the party to be paid was cheated. And every grudge is to be repaid in either an appropriate fine in gold, or be paid in blood. Sighing deeply she began to feel great weight upon her shoulders.
The following day, Vanyra informed her foreman that she would be unable to come to work due to important clan matters, after taking a formal leave of absence she locked up her home and left for the Ungdrin tunnels of Karaz-a-Karak to head to the town of which she was born in. Clad in a near full set of a ranger's chain armor sans the coif with the mail shirt covered by a stone grey tunic, she wore dyed woolen cloak of similar coloring.
The book was tied to the back of her leather belt with a bit of rope, the spaciously well-lit and beautifully carved tunnels were filled with many dwarfs; still there were possible dangers around so she made sure to bring a repeater crossbow which she kept in both her hands, she brought her engineering wrench which was large and heavy enough to double as a mace, this she kept by her left hip, a pair of egg-shaped devices which actually carried a volatile mix of gunpowder and sharpened metal fragments inside were secured by her right hip, she had thought about taking the sword, but decided perhaps another time, in her full kit, she looked every bit of a prepared Ranger.
She passed many patrols of Iron Breakers, groups of Miners, merchants and other travelers, many of whom offered and even insisted on escorting her. Vanyra declined these offers of course but more than once had to try to run away from the other dwarfs, eventually after half a day of travel she found the welcoming sights of the tunnel leading to Khazid-Zon.
At the entrance to the clan's tunnel, sealed by a wutroth door, studded with metal bolts and runes of protection against both physical and magical, she saw a guard in chain armor and a horned helmet sitting on a sturdy stool, he had a black beard that reached to his belly, a pipe was sticking out of his mouth, creating a slight fog of tobacco smoke, the guard looked to be around fifteen years Vanyra's senior, his right hand calmly held a Thunderer's rifle over his shoulder. She knew this dwarf to be Morik Powderbeard. The guard gave a warm smile and waved his left hand at her
"Well by my beard! Vany!" he loudly spoke in a friendly tone "Long time no see!"
Vanyra gave a sweet smile at the guard and replied while thumping a fist over her heart
"Gnoll-engrom cousin, indeed it's been too long that I have been away from the clan, but today is not a day for celebration" she said with those last words being said grimly
The guard nodded in acknowledgement at this
"Thori finally found his doom then?" he asked with a tinge of sadness, Morik and Thori were close, almost like brothers, they often competed with each other in shooting contests and often trying to outdo each other with trick shots.
Vanyra nodded a bit solemnly "He had found a good one; I am to take his Kron to the Lore Keeper"
The guard's eyes widened at the word of the book, he quickly got off of his seat and went for the door, the dwarf quickly whispered as series of words, and was followed by a click from the door. The guard twisted the handle and ushered her in. She nodded to her cousin and bid farewell, he respectfully thumped his right fist over his heart in response, and she went through towards Khazid-Zon.
Within the Ungdrin tunnel towards the Khazid-Zon, Vanyra could feel the faint breeze of the wind, the tunnel was large and spacious enough for two dwarfs to walk through side by side and tall enough for a human of average height to pass, this eventually connected to the larger tunnel known as the Warrior's Way which was more heavily guarded, the Warrior's Way tunnel was mainly used when the clan needed to move large numbers of soldiers through the Ungdrin, as such it was wide enough for ten dwarfs to walk across and high enough for even war machines such as cannons, organ guns, or grudge throwers to pass through.
Vanyra passed by a number of recognizable faces here and there, cousins, old friends, uncles, and various kinsmen who acknowledge her passing. Eventually she made her way to the surface tunnel where the dying light of the sun shone and the wind blew stronger, she passed the statues of ancestor guardians wielding stone weapons and shields alongside the flesh and blood guardians. Her path began to incline as it went to the surface; she smiled mischievously as she saw overhead the ancestor faces on the ceiling.
At the end of the tunnel by the surface gate was a rune-etched lever which would cause several of the stone faces and statues across the tunnels to pour flammable oil upon an invading force, then a warrior could simply throw a torch in and the entire path would be engulfed in flames. It had been designed over a millennium ago by an engineer of her clan and it served as a nasty and deadly surprise to invaders such as a skaven horde that attacked through the tunnel six hundred years earlier, the dwarfs allowed the vermin through, and formed a guard at the surface where the sun would blind the invaders, the skaven never knew what hit them when the flammable liquid began dousing the tunnels and the skaven themselves and the Thane at the time according to all accounts simply flicked the embers of his pipe into the oil slicked tunnel. The entire skaven horde was said to be incinerated and it was that it supposedly took the clan over three decades to clean the ashes and the stink of charred rats out.
When she finally got to the surface, she was greeted by the orange light of the sky and emerging lights of the stars, she took a deep breath of cold and fresh air which was mixed with the smells typical of a dwarf settlement as well as the natural smells of the nearby forest. It was good to be home thought Vanyra
She walked across the stone streets of the place of her hometown, dwarf built structures were neatly arranged in blocks, and posts with lanterns above glowed brightly while moths and other insects bumped themselves into the glass casings, attracted to the lights. She greeted many familiar faces here and there as well the faces of children who were now grown into young adults or almost adults. She made her way to the center of the town, a large walled fortress formed into a diamond shape, its height she estimated to be at least twenty-eight feet high with defensive parapets, murder holes and towers where Quarrelers, and Thunderers could fire at their foe, naphtha could be poured and even carrying cannons to counter the siege weapons of any attackers.
What truly was impressive though was the great round pillar at the center of the fortress, rising high into the sky with seven ancestor statues inlaid to the walls, at the top was a massive brazier, blazing with a fire which gave the Hold its name, it reminded her of the light houses of Barak Varr. Vanyra's home town was considered by the standards of her kin to be rather medium in terms of wealth and size, and indeed in her travels the wonders and glories of Khazid-Zon paled in comparison to that of places like Barak Varr of Karaz-a-Karak, but to Vanyra this would always be the greatest for it was her home.
The massive double steel and stone gate to the fortress was opened, flanked to the sides were the two heavily armored figures of the Thane's guard, both warriors wielded mauls in both hands, both gripped the ends of the shaft with the heads being firmly planted on the ground, their faces and beards were covered by steel winged helmets which only left the eyes exposed for obvious reasons, the plates of the winged helmets reached to the upper jaw and had veils of chains that covered the lower half and their beards, both of whom reminded her of a cross between the Iron Breakers and the Hammerers. As she neared the gate, the guard to her left raised his right hand and spoke
"Please state your name and business" said the guard gruffly
Vanyra recognized the voice as that of one her mother's cousins a veteran warrior named Logri Boulderfist "You know who I am uncle"
The guard chuckled slightly and she was sure he would have been smiling behind the helmet
"Aye that I do, but protocols demands must be followed" he replied in a polite tone
Vanyra nodded and did her best to be as formal as possible, she straightened up with her shoulders squared and said
"Gnoll-engrom, I am Vanyra Skorrisdottir, I am here to return the Kron of my brother Thori Skorrison for recording, and he has completed his oath as a Slayer"
"You may proceed Vanyra Skorrisdottir" replied her uncle "The Lore Keeper's archives is passed the gate, take the hall to your right, and then go to the 4th flight of stairs down to the left then when you are down go right from the statue of Thane Ranulf."
Vanyra nodded appreciatively to the guards, the two dwarfs thumped their right fists over their hearts in perfect unison. The halls of the clan's fortress was certainly grand, its reflective marble floor was laid with ornamental runes detailing praises and prayers to the deities of Dwarf-kind as well as tales of past ancestors glories. She met many nobles of whom she gave respectful greetings to in accord to their stations as Vanyra would be considered to be a commoner among her people; the nobles were at the least polite enough to acknowledge her as she passed. There were many warriors clad in all sorts of garments and armors within the forts as well as Guards equipped like the ones at the gate.
Following the directions given to her, she eventually reached the Lore Keeper's archive which was as they said to the right of a statue of the Thane during the time of great grand father. The massive door-way was left open, there were several tomes and books neatly arranged on stone shelves, at the center was an old white bearded dwarf wearing a monocle on his right eye, the Lore Keeper's beard was tied into several thick knots which reached to his ankles, the elder was busy writing on a lectern, his quill gently scratched against parchment as he supped from a pipe. Giving a polite cough to get the Lore Keeper's attention; the elder gave Vanyra a brief glance before going back to writing, an awkward silence followed and she gave began to grow uncomfortable.
After a minute of silence, the Lore Keeper stopped writing, he put his quill down then picked up a small jar upon the lectern, he poured a dusty powder upon the parchment, the Lore Keeper began to casually analyze the paper before giving a satisfied grunt, and he then looked to Vanyra his creating a steady stream of smoke
"At least not all of you younglings are not impatient" he said in a weary tone "well, what is it girl?"
Clearing her throat, she was relieved that this could get moving
"I am Vanyra Skorrisdottir, and I am here to return the Kron of my brother, the slayer Thori Skorrisson of whom has completed his oath as a slayer. And I am here to settle his remaining oaths"
The Lore Keeper gave a look of surprise "what?" was all he said
Clearing her throat again she gave the Lore Keeper a look of resolution and determination
"As the next of kin to the deceased I exercise my right to settle whatever oaths and grudges he had recorded and I will bear them as my own, I declare myself Oath-Sworn"
The Lore Keeper looked upon Vanyra for a while, likely studying her and gauging her seriousness in the matter. Giving a satisfied grunt he motioned for her to follow him, the Lore Keeper led Vanyra past several shelves of books and tablets regarding history, mythology, legends, and biographies, eventually they arrived at the holding place to a large weathered tome, covered in thick leather of cured troll-hide with yellowed pages, the silvered seal of the Hold was placed upon its center, a mountain with fire upon its peak and wreathed by the clouds was seen, upon the center of the mountain was a keyhole, and the book itself was as tall as a dwarf and thick as well.
The Lore Keeper reached his right hand into his thick beard, after a second of searching, he pulled out a silver key, he gently placed the key into the seal and twisted it, there was a soft click, and the Lore Keeper placed the key back into wherever it was he kept it behind his beard. The Lore Keeper asked Vanyra for her copy, she quickly went for the kron, untying the rope which held it; she reverently gave the book to the Lore Keeper.
The Lore Keeper, examined the book's cover and muttered something, she though she heard some curse about disrespectful beardlings. The Lore Keeper looked to Vanyra
"Come back in six-day, I will be checking these entries and comparing this with the Hold's Kron and writing up a new one for you"
Vanyra gave a polite nod and a word of thanks to the Lore Keeper, the old dwarf grinned slightly and began gesturing with both hands to shoo her away.
Spending the night at an inn called the Skins and Rinns, a nice establishment owned by three sisters (quite a rarity among the dwarfs) of whom were old friends of Vanyra. The establishment's name came from the sister's fondness of filling drinking skins with all sorts of alcoholic drinks and giving it to Hunters and Rangers for easy carrying in the wilds. She spent the next few days catching up with old friends and family.
By the fourth night she decided to go out hunting after hearing about grobi sightings in the wilds. Vanyra equipped her armor and made sure to check her weapons. She thought about asking a Ranger or two to accompany her, but quickly decided against it because if there was any danger, the dwarf would put himself at unnecessary risks to ensure her safety. So in the early morning of her fifth day she quietly went off into the wilds, she felt a strong sense of freedom away from civilization, she enjoyed the smells of the forest, the cool morning air as the sun lazily rose across the east and the sounds of various things within the woods.
It was by late that morning, almost noon when she finally found a trail, there was a faint stench in the air, like that of old sweat and dung, she knelt down into the damp earth and traced her fingers into the prints, there were bare foot prints with a few actually wearing boots, and certainly the right size for grobi, she quickly found nine more sets of tracks, the grobi these tracks belonged to were rather lean, probably a very hungry group, they weren't wearing any real armor so most likely this was a group of hunters.
Vanyra continued following the tracks and the smell of the grobi, she found a smelly spot where half the party had decided to relieve themselves upon the vegetation. She knew she was not far from the pack; it was after nine minutes of following the trail that she finally caught sight of her prey, but was she found was something she did not expect. Hiding behind a tree, she saw two of the grobi, crouched behind a bush looking intently at something; she could not make out what it was from her position but quickly heard a loud roar of anger.
The roar was very beast like yet at the same sounded almost human, gor Vanyra thought referring to the dwarf term of Beast Men in general. She soon heard the heavy thundering of hooves and screams of grobi, the two grobi by the brush began to scramble away, bursting from the brush was a wild-eyed grobi, clad in furs and panic clearly etched on its face, the grobi looked to its side breathing heavily and searching for its kin, it cursed in its tongue and began running forward in the dwarf's direction, another loud roar emerged from the woods followed by more screams. Vanyra tightened her grip on her rifle, as the goblin drew closer she leapt out from behind the tree, reversing her grip, she smacked the goblin in the face with the stock of her crossbow.
The force of the impact was enough to knock the goblin off of its feet and landing on its back, dazed and losing consciousness, Vanyra grabbed for one of the grenades on her belt, she wanted to see what the green skins were running from, her curiosity was quickly answered. Bursting from the brush was a massive creature she had only heard tales of, its upper body was like that of a human's yet its face was savage and bestial, a pair of great horns like that of a ram jutted from the sides of head, but its lower body was like that of a particularly shaggy horse, with four legs and dark brown fur. In one hand it held a massive spear, in the other it held the struggling body of a goblin that scratched and pounded feebly upon the extremity which held it.
The Centigor as she remembered they were called, began surveying the area with dark eyes, the mutant caught sight of the goblin Vanyra had struck down of which was up clearly dazed and holding on to its broken nose. With a quick flick of the centigor's wrist, the neck of the goblin it held snapped loudly, the centigor tossed the dead goblin away and charged towards the other goblin which did not even register the incoming mutant. As the centigor thundered forth, Vanyra quickly removed the pin of her grenade and tossed it to the goblin's feet, she quickly ran off wanting to get away from the explosion.
As she looked back, Vanyra saw the goblin she had struck get skewered by the centigor's spear, the mutant raised the grobi high in the air roaring in victory, it did not notice the strange round device under its body before it went off. In a sudden explosion of fire and metal shards, the centigor's body flew all over the area in pieces, showering the surrounding area in a rain of blood, bones and meat. An amused grin came upon the dwarf's face, she felt slightly euphoric but quickly remembered the remaining goblins, she wondered if they were still around hoped to Grimnir that they were.
It did take a while before the remaining goblins worked up the courage to come back, there were now four of the creatures remaining, they were nervously studying the site where the centigor had exploded, two of the green skins seemed to be arguing, another was just scratching its head in puzzlement while the last was poking a bit of the bloody remains with a spear. It did not take long for one of them to mention the names of one of the green skin deities and soon the goblins were shouting praises to their gods
Taking a deep breath and trying to calm herself, Vanyra took aim with her rifle, looking down the scope she sighted one of the two arguing goblins, with a simple squeeze of the trigger, her crossbow clacked, firing an iron bolt into the side of a goblin's torso, knocking the creature to the side. On the top of her crossbow was a rectangular container carrying ten bolts, one of which was already used, swiftly switching to the next bolt she fired again, the second bolt struck the other arguing goblin a split second after the first one had been struck. The remaining two goblins tried to flee but were quickly shot down by Vanyra's marksmanship; she grinned and gave a word of thanks to Grimnir.
When night fell that evening, Vanyra had returned to Khazid-Zon with a certain sense of satisfaction along with a few trophies in her left hand, holding a clutch of four severed grobi heads tied to lengths of rope, among the trophies was also a horn from the centigor of which she was surprised to still be in once piece, she was also pleased at the performance of her crossbow and wondere what other modifications she could make. She made sure to pass by a shop where she could purchase a jar large enough to carry the four goblin heads; the jar she then filled with vinegar to make sure they would be preserved.
Having spent the night at the Skins, Vanyra slept quite well thanks to a mix of the weariness she felt from the day and all the ale. When morning came she had a breakfast of bread, butter and beer, she was hopeful by today she can get started with completing her brother's oaths, after her breakfast she went back to the settlement's main hold, she repeated the process with the guards of stating her identity and intentions. She made her way again to the Lore Keepers archives, she found the elder Lore Keeper chiseling words into a slab of stone, he motioned for her with his hammer to come to him, she obeyed the words of the elder who put his tools down. Snapping his fingers twice, a young beardling dressed in the manner of an apprentice Lore Keeper, came carrying a tome much like the one her brother and her ancestors had but this one was much newer.
The Lore Keeper took the tome from the beardling who politely bowed and went off; the elder presented the tome to Vanyra and gave her a stern look.
"As Oath-sworn of the late Thori Skorrison, do you know what is to be expected of you?" he said
"I do" she replied "As Oath-Sworn I will not rest until all of his Oaths, Debts and Gudges of Thori Skorrison are settled or forever await in shame if death claims me." She said these with gravitas and solemnity, the last especially with greater emphasis.
Taking the tome, the Lore Keeper's stern gaze remained, silence followed before he thumped a fist over his heart
"Dreng-Tromm" was all he said
Varnya nodded, making the same gesture and repeating the words. She left her home town that morning and made it back to Karaz-a-karak, her journey to the dwarf capital was as un-eventful as her journey from it. When she arrived at her home in the city, she began preparing for her journey, rationing food, drink, stockpiling ammunition, gunpowder, and various pieces of equipment. In the days that followed she had visited the markets and purchased a grey mule to help carry her equipment and tools, she made arrangements at her workplace formally resigning as well as items she needed for her equipment.
After a week of preparation, she found herself at the balcony of her home, looking to the setting sun with her hands gripping the rails; she gave a weary sigh and knew what had to be done, taking a swig from a tankard beside her. Her thoughts weighed heavy with the journey ahead, but at the same she felt a sense of excitement at being able to see the wider world.
And so she stood there with only the sounds of the wind blowing, watching as the sun set across the horizon and when darkness fell and the stars shone she went back into her home, shutting the door and locking it.
Glossary: (sources Dwarf Army Book 6th ed, WFRP 1st edition Stone and Steel, Time of Legends: Great Betrayal)
Az- Axe
Dammaz- Grudge
Dawi- Dwarf
Dren-Tromm – A lament
Elgi- elf or weak
Gnoll-engrom – respectful greeting
Gor- Beast Men
Grund- Hammer
Grong- Anvil
Grobi- Goblin
Klad- Armor
Karak- Enduring
Karaz- Mountain
Khazid- Town
Kron- Book
Rhun- Rune
Rinn- dwarf woman
Skarrennawi –surface dwelling dwarfs
Nagrund- Desolation
Thrund – a name or the word for firearms
Wutroth- ancient mountain oak tree
Zharr- Fire
Zon- Sun