Two millennia had passed since then. Now King Shrrgknurl—King Wolfstone—the tenth king of the dwarves, sat on the throne. A hundred and sixty years he had ruled so far, and the dwarves had prospered. One day a guard ran into the throne room unannounced and uncalled for. The king would have called for the guards that very instant had he not spotted that the dwarf's face was white. He trembled slightly, and King Shrrgknurl suddenly felt uneasy. "Your Majesty," he said, kneeling.
"Yes?" asked the king.
"I am Horganr, one of the knurla of Durgrimst Ingeitum, a scout for the captain of the guards. I have seen a great horde of Nagran; it comes this way, from the north, not running, but coming fairly quickly. There is another scout on the south end of Farthen Dur, and he has seen another horde, but of Urzhadn. He sprained his ankle on a rock attempting to come here quickly, so I was sent with both messages." Now he seemed out of breath from his tirade, but he went on, a note of panic in his voice. "They approach from both sides; the spellcasters are not strong enough to hold them all off. There will be a rampage, or at the very least a great fight between the beasts when they meet. Of course, the gates are closed, but they will smell each other and attack the gates in an attempt to fight each other. Many will be killed if nothing is done!"
Several of the king's advisers, who had evidently been eavesdropping, entered through the thick stone doors. "My lord," said one of them solemnly, "there is no other choice we can think of. We must abandon Tronjheim and evacuate to the undisturbed tunnels."
"And suppose they are not undisturbed much longer?" asked the king scornfully. At the advisers' looks of confusion, he amended, "Suppose the beasts exit by those tunnels? It is likely."
The advisers went pale and started muttering among themselves until there came a loud, joyful, and slightly scornful laugh. "Ha!" he cried. "Knurlhiemn! What did Korgan, founder of Tronjheim say? 'Those floors will help us someday...'"
One of his advisers scrunched up his face. "But my lord, to get the people up high enough that the beasts will not be interested..."
Shrrgknurl gave a howl of disgust. "Fools! Werg! Enough, I say! You are blinded to words of wisdom by your incessant jabbering! To work! There remain but few minutes until the Nagran and Urzhadn arrive! We must warn the people! To work, I say!"
Criers were sent around Tronjheim with the message: "Great hordes of fierce Nagran and mighty Urzhadn approach! The king commands that all collect in the higher levels of Tronjheim!
Men, women (most without beards, but some had taken the time to grow them), and children raced for Vol Turin or the pulley system. Some feared that the newly invented system, comprised of numerous pulleys and levers, would break and so preferred the stairs. They raced up the stairs, which was, for the first time, since its building, once more filled with people.
Minutes later the thousands of dwarves were on the twelfth floor and still running as if the very animals they sought to escape were on their heels. Shrrgknurl, who was at the front of the crowd, finally halted the procession with the call, "We are safe for now!"
Relieved dwarves settled down as he added, "All we can do now is wait."
And they did. Slowly the sound of a gate being struck by thick, heavy bodies permeated the silent air. There was more silence as the apprehensive crowd listened hard. There was a crash as the gates fell on one side, and a few moments later another crash as thick chunks of stone and metal fell to the ground, no doubt to be replaced by large bodies that could crush two or three dwarves easily with one blow.
Then there were squeals of fear from the children as sounds of anger floated up: growls and fiercer squeals grew louder in volume as there were more sounds of crashing. A scream of pain rent the air and several fearful-looking dwarf mothers covered the ears of their children.
Minutes passed, now frequently punctuated by roars, bestial screams that drew terror out of the citizens which blanketed the silence.
There was a yowl, another crash... A monster din slashed the air, causing most people to start and drop thins if they were holding any.
And then as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
The people warily crept down, but there was no need for silence now; the animals were indeed gone.
King Shrrgknurl, His Majesty, tenth king of the dwarves, gazed at his advisers triumphantly. "You see?" he told them. "Korgan was right!"