Hrothgar Stoneback, King of Karak Vlag, was rather perplexed. He and his kin had been defending their hold for days against a massive army of chaos beasts and warriors. The khazaki-dum had hammered on the great iron doors every hour. Still they had held. Hundreds of chaos monstrosities were cut down by dwarf artillery, crossbows, and thunderers. Only a couple dozen or so brave dawi had been slain, mainly slayers who had sallied forth to find their doom.
After three days, the chaos army had retreated down the mountain, but Hrothgar had not celebrated. He knew it was too soon for them to give up, and that the forces of Darkness were not so easily dissuaded. They had something foul planned. He was proven right when tendrils of multicolored sorcery appeared around Karak Vlag. They were miles out, surrounding them in all directions, even above! Then, suddenly, there had been a flash of bright light, and the chaos army was gone.
They were not the only thing which was gone, however. The mountains were as well, replaced by an unfamiliar yet no less rugged vista. And so we return to the present. King Hrothgar swore under his breath. Those thrice damned chaos sons of Grobi! They knew they could not hope to overcome the expertly crafted Dawi defense. So they resorted to foul sorceries, sending the Karak far from battle! Perhaps far from the World's Edge Mountains, the king thought, as he looked out at Karak Vlag's new surroundings. These peaks were unlike any he had seen in the Old World, and he was fairly well traveled for a dwarf, having visited every major hold from Karak Kadrin down to Karaz-A-Karak.
Putting those thoughts aside, he turned to the more immediate concern of taking care of his people. Clan and kin always came first, that was what his father had taught him. "Brokk! I need you to give me a report on the casualties. And bring me my advisors. There is much to discuss!" He shouted to his bodyguard and advisor, a burly old longbeard. Brokk had guarded three kings of Karak Vlag, and Hrothgar trusted him more than anyone else. Well, anyone else except his wife. Brokk nodded, and went off to do his duty. He returned shortly afterwards with a large stack of scrolled reports and messages.
As he read the reports, he was both pleased and concerned. Casualties were minimal, thank Valaya, but they had lost a few dwarfs guarding the deep tunnels. Apparently whatever spell the sorcerer had used to bring them there had fused Karak Vlag to the stone of this new mountain. The lower tunnels had become structurally unstable, collapsing on roughly half a dozen Dawi. Miners were already beginning rescue and retrieval attempts. The report from the stonemasons indicated that the Karak had suffered only minor damage during transportation, mainly in the mines.
The report from the lookouts in their towers declared that no enemies were in sight. Not only that, but those the furthest out gave an interesting description of their new location. Where once the great stone road had descended down into the valley of the High Pass, now a shear cliff stood. It seemed their translocation had resulted in the southern outskirts of the Karak forming a kind of plateau. That was no matter, though. Another road could be built, if need be.
Now that he was assured of the safety of his people and his kingdom, Hrothgar could turn his attention to figuring out where they were, and how they could contact the Karaz Ankor. There was still a chaos invasion, after all, and Karak Vlag would honor its oaths to the High King! As he was seated on his throne, reading the reports, the door to the Grand Hall of Grund Ungor opened. In entered his advisors, the Dawi whom he trusted most to aid him in running his kingdom. The various priests, generals, and guild representatives all gathered together under the vaulted stone ceiling and the reliefs of ancient dwarf heroes and Ancestor Gods.
Brokk stood before the throne on the left hand side, the shine of his armor matching the luster of the throne, for both were composed of gromril, star-metal. On the right, seated upon a beautifully varnished wooden throne, was Hilda Stoneback, Queen of Karak Vlag and wife of Hrothgar. The red of her hair matched the red varnish of her seat, it's carved surface inlaid with twisting golden dragons, the same as her husband's. She surveyed the room with an even expression, and Hrothgar knew she was carefully analyzing the situation in a thousand different ways. She was one of the smartest Dawi he had ever met, after all!
Finally, hobbling into the hall came Khazrindal Mountainguard, the eldest dwarf in Karak Vlag and their Loremaster. His pure white beard nearly dragged on the ground, even wrapped around his shoulders. He was nearly 600 years old, well beyond the average lifespan of a dwarf, and thus he held much wisdom and knowledge. He was helped along by Gromenna Mountainguard, his great-granddaughter. Though she was but 19 years of age, at least as humans reckon time, she was already a bright young Dawi. She was already in training to become a Loremaster herself, having already memorized many of the ancient stories of their ancestors.
All the assembled Dawi bowed before the longbeard and his apprentice, and even Hrothgar gave them a respectful nod. Once Khazrindal had taken his seat on his personal chair, Hrothgar and Hilda both rose from their thrones. He raised his hands, gesturing for the crowd to quiet. "My fellow Dawi. We have gathered at this time because by foul chaos sorcery, our fine Karak has been transported far from our homelands in the World's Edge Mountains." He paused there allowing his words to sink in. The crowds began to murmur, though they were not very shocked. Evidence of their teleportation was readily available to any dwarf who looked outside.
He gestured for silence yet again. "Now, our primary concerns are determining where we are, and how we may re-establish constant with the Karaz Ankor. We may be far from the battle now, but we have all sworn our oaths to the High King. We must rejoin the fight, aid our brethren, and defend the Realm!" His speech this time was met with cheers of approval from all assembled. Hilda gave him an encouraging nod and small smile, before returning to her more dignified expression. Brokk, like the other bodyguards, remained still and silent.
"Now, I will hear any ideas on how we may accomplish our goals, as well as any pertaining to the preservation of the Karak." He said, and a so the clamor began. Every dwarf present had an idea about how to remedy their situation. The Chief Engineer, Freki Frekisson, suggested they send gyrocopters to fly to the Karaz Ankor. Of course this was immediately countered by Bruni Hammerhead, the head of the Ironsmiths Guild, who pointed out that the flyers wouldn't be able to refuel in foreign territory. Freki had the decency to look embarrassed. He was well known as a tad absentminded, though a brilliant engineer nonetheless.
Thutrin Dourhewer was next to speak. He was the High Priest of Grimnir, as well as leader of all the slayers in the hold. He suggested that he take a party of warriors to go an trek back to the Karaz Ankor. Bruni Dourhewer, High Priest of Grungni, immediately made the accusation that his brother and his warriors only wanted to undertake such an expedition in order to find honor in glorious battle. They would get distracted by finding mighty foes, they would likely forget why they started the expedition in the first place! The two siblings seemed about to come to blows, before Hilda fixed them with a stare that could pierce dragon scales. They both apologized for disturbing the meeting's proceedings, and the meeting carried on.
Thus the meeting went on for hours. It was still in full swing when a panting warrior was allowed into the Hall. He was sweaty and clearly had run there. "My lord, urgent news." He said as he reached the throne. Hrothgar rose from his seat. "Speak then, lad. We're listening. Is it news of the Karaz Ankor?" He asked, hoping that their kin had found them. The guard looked up, his face rather pale. "Alas, no, my king. There is something outside you must see. You would not believe me if I told you of it. I did not believe it until I had gazed on the sky with my own eyes." Now Hrothgar was intrigued. He gestured for the guard to lead the way, and as they exited the hall they were followed by the entire congregation.
They walked through the vast halls of Karak Vlag, beneath stone skies and chandelier suns. Finally, they emerged into the cool mountain night. To Hrothgar, nothing odd was readily evident at the time. That is, until Bruni spoke. "Where is Grungni's Baldric?" He asked, concern and confusion evident in his voice. Hrothgar observed the skies yet again, and found it was true. The most sacred constellation of the Dawi, which should be visible in the Old World at this time of year, was gone. "It is not just that my lord. Look." The guard said, pointing towards the moon.
Hrothgar looked, and his blood ran cold. There was indeed a moon, but it was not their moon. The marks and craters upon its surface were all wrong. He may have lived his life underground, but no Dawi forgets the marks and crags in the face of a stone. What was even more astounding, however, was that the Dark Moon had vanished. It was the Silver Moon's constant twin, always visible somewhere in the sky nearby it. Now that great scar upon the heavens was nowhere to be seen. The crowd of dwarfs must have realized this, and was sent into a great commotion.
Hrothgar looked to Brokk, and for the first time in many years saw trepidation written upon the longbeard's face. He then looked to Hilda, and saw great concern, and a hint of fear. Hrothgar himself was feeling much the same. They were clearly somewhere no Dawi had ever been. Perhaps some other world. Now more than ever did he feel lost. All that was left, for now, was to gaze upon the beautiful, alien sky.