Murdi, Lord of Mountain Clans, wore a sumptuous dark robe decorated with intricate golden runes on the day he was going to become King.
He felt agitated, full of life and pride. Soon, his plans would reveal the polished beauty of what had once been crude rock. There was no time for reveries, however, as preparations had already started.
With jittery steps, Murdi shuffled around his grand room in Farthen Dur, picking a gold ornate bracelet and whatever metals were present in the room, along with other decorations. Murdi frowned at such trifles, but like in the case of Guntera the false God, the image he created before the dwarves counted.
Two months had passed since Gannel, pressed hard by Murdi's will and lack of supplies, accepted to serve under his rule. Being the most influential clan, Quan—at Murdi's request—immediately started to spread its messengers across the Beors and trample Orik's image by accusing him of leaving the dwarves unprotected because the human Rider commanded so. Other messages were even more outrageous, explaining how Eragon was actually the King and Orik was his puppet.
Yet, no one dared to oppose Quan, not when Gannel slyly promised them that Guntera will appear again to guide the dwarves during these times of turmoil. Every Grimsborith contemplated such words with suspicion, but their sinister minds and intentions urged them to converge on Farthen Dur and see with their own eyes if the gods had indeed forsaken Orik.
Even from his secluded room Murdi could hear the clinking of metal boots on stone and idle chatter among the huge amount of dwarves that headed towards the central hall where Guntera would show the dwarves his choice.
With one last stroke of his beard, Murdi mumbled something to himself, equipped a silver tiara because the rite demanded so and walked nervously towards the door where Thodris was supposed to wait for him.
The massive doors parted in front of Murdi, allowing the mumblings and chatter to rampantly circulate along the walls. The crowd gathered in front of Murdi's room was impressive, and only his own personal guards kept their weapons high, the imposing blades intimidating everyone who dared lash out at him.
Confused, Murdi frowned at the sea of people who vehemently insulted the name of his clan, along with his own.
"Pay the basterds no nevermind," Thodris said, beckoning his own guards to keep the sea of dwarves at bay while they began walking.
"Betrayer! Heathen!" One dwarf shouted.
"Yer ambitions will ruin us all," another voice overpowered the rest.
"Yer clan is named after dirt," a yell reached his ears, but Murdi shrugged it easily. Dwarves with vision were always loathed in the beginning, only to be praised and loved later. Dwarves needed time to adjust, and Murdi had no intentions to deny them a peaceful transition from a damned king to a rightful one.
The impressive number of dwarves only increased in numbers as Murdi and Thodris made their way towards the central hall. The grand chamber lacked the frivolous decorations that were usually present at such ceremony. Instead, numerous dwarven lamps were hung throughout the darkening hall, their glow creating an air of mystery and power.
Murdi signaled Thodris to stop. Before them lay the same black throne where Orik had been crowned king. Now, the same throne would belong to him as well as disposing of Orik's troublesome rule and wishful ideals altered by the presence of Eragon and them humans.
Gannel, clan chief of Dûrgrimst Quan, stepped forward, breaking the ring of people around the chamber, and walked to stand on the right-hand side of the throne. The heavy-shouldered dwarf was dressed in sumptuous red robes, the borders of which gleamed with runes outlined with metal thread. In one hand, Gannel bore a tall staff with a clear, pointed runed stone mounted on the top.
Cunning basterd, Murdi thought, looking at the priest intently. Gannel spread his arms, quieting the noisy crowd. Shouts were reduced to whispers, which in turn dissipated into an eerie silence.
"Dwarves of the thirteen clans," Gannel began his preach. "The gods frown upon our people, their wisdom seeking to slither into the minds of their worshippers through signs. As the favored son of Guntera and Grimsborith of Durgrimst Quan, the creator of the earth and heavens and the boundless sea has gifted me with a certain revelation, one that may forever shape the future of our kind."
The crowd began to whispers restlessly, but Gannel's voice thundered through the sea of dwarves.
"The signs point towards a great disaster and a betrayal coming from one of our own. The proofs are unfathomable and the wisdom of the gods unmatched. I, Gannel, as their messenger, found it necessary to spread my concerns to all thirteen clans."
Murdi shifted nervously. The speech seemed carved of the finest stone, and Gannel finally seemed to see reason after a life spent in darkness and obedience.
"Orik, King of the dwarves, has gathered all of our finest warriors to wage war against a fierce and perilous force. However, even Galbatorix fears our stone fortresses and sharp axes. But Orik, in his irrational aspiration instilled by Eragon and them humans, has relinquished the protection of stone and gladly embraced the aggressive and barbarous tactics of humans. His transgressions go beyond that of forsaking the nature of his kin; recently, he adopted a human in his clan to increase his reputation with them and insert their barbarity among our own!"
The booming and zealous voice caused an eruption of yells and curses and insults, the loudest coming from the members of Ingeitum. The guards barely restrained the masses of angry dwarves until spirits died down and Gannel could again speak.
"Guntera, however, is merciful with his people and clans, and in his great power, he knows that a wrong leader can spoil his people."
Murdi smiled under his mustache when the members of Ingeitum began whispering among themselves, pleased that the accusations against them stopped.
"The king of the Gods spoke to me. In order for our race to flourish, we need a new ruler. One that can bring prosperity back to our people and make sure that our traditions are never tarnished by them humans. In order for that to happen, Orik needs to be forgotten."
For a moment, there was silence. As a volcano that has just awakened, the crowd erupted, words of doubt being yelled and uncertainty quickly spreading through the sea of dwarves.
"Liar!" One dwarf yelled.
"There is no better king!"
Gannel spread his arms, his indomitable crimson stature silencing the crowd once again.
"Me kin, this is not a question worthy of a mortal," Gannel said, flicking his staff.
"Guntera, king of the Gods, is going to decide the future of our people," Gannel concluded and moved in front of the throne. After taking a deep breath, the priest began chanting in a language foreign to Murdi.
"The ancient language," Thodris whispered in his ear. "That's how the basterd calls his god."
Murdi nodded and watched Gannel intently. The runed head of the staff flickered with power, and as Gannel's words increased in power, so did the light began to radiate with frightening intensity. The nebulous form of light blazed to life suddenly, the shimmering patterns forming the same image Murdi had seen before: the one of a dwarf. His spies were right all along.
With a single motion, the dwarves sank to their knees. Murdi and Thodris mimicked their gesture, even though Murdi found it repulsive to bow before a spell.
"Great Guntera," Gannel asked with a shaky voice as he kneeled. "Who is the rightful King that will lead our people wisely during times of chaos?"
The dwarf made of light pointed a luminous finger towards Murdi.
"Rise," Gannel commanded.
Murdi's heart thumped in his chest, blood rushing through every fiber of his body. Arms felt shaky and insecure, and legs threatened to buckle under the weight exerted by his muscles. Murdi had never felt such shock, such awe before. It was the flood of emotions that drenched one after seeing a vision come true. Patiently, he waited, trying his best to hide the emotions that welled inside him.
Most of the dwarves were shocked, but no one dared disobeying a god.
"If not prevented by your power, O great Guntera," Gannel pleaded. "Who would have led our people to ruin?"
The blazing figure crackled, and then pointed towards the throne, the sign of Orik's kingdom and power. Before Murdi could mumble something, the iridescent dwarf disappeared, the veil of darkness engulfing the room in an instant.
"Orik would have ruined us!" Gannel bellowed and beckoned Murdi to come forward. No ill words were said, no whispers shared. After a god had chosen Murdi, no one seemed to doubt him anymore. Gannel quickly signaled a priest to fetch a golden crown.
"Noble dwarves, brothers," Gannel said, picking the crown. "The Gods have spoken. Murdi, Grismborith of Az Sweldn Rak Anhuin, will rule over us. May Guntera give him the wisdom to overcome what Orik could not and power to resist the danger of temptation oozing from humans."
And then, the King was crowned, a golden marvel resting on the head of a dwarf with vision and courage to pursue a dream.
Murdi, Lord of Mountain Clans, sat before a rich feast organized in the room that once belonged to Orik.
"Ye made a wise choice Gannel," Thodris said, rising his cup of wine. "Murdi may be cruel, but he cares about our people more than Orik ever did."
Gannel laughed merrily. "The basterd was about to kill me own people and starve them to death."
"Yet he did none of that," Thodris interrupted, sipping his wine. "Have ye realized how much prosperous our clans became after Murdi awakened us from our stupor?"
Murdi smiled contentedly, glancing at the golden crown that lay on a nightstand. The private feast included his most trusted advisors and it took place while the other revelers drank and danced and sang.
Each Clan Leader, even Freowin and Havard, learned to accept and respect him. Their people were fearful and apprehensive after Orik marched to war, and Murdi provided them protection. Their people lacked food and ale, and Murdi provided them with it. After the four clans began working together, the prosperity of the dwarves increased vastly. Instead of envying another Clan's riches, they worked together to provide wealth for the whole dwarven people.
"Will be no clans no more," Murdi said. The two dwarves looked at him for a moment, then continued to feast on the spiced haunches of meat.
"Ye conquered us all Murdi," Gannel said. "Yer gonna be a king unlike any other."
Thodris raised his cup. "For Murdi, Lord of Mountain Clans."