Introduction
The miners of Dormoor saw increasing activity as of late.
It was to be expected. The Kingdom was at war. The tribals had united, forcing the civilized races to band together once more and drive them back.
The King, too old to lead men into battle, was forced to stay at home, while his son and heir marched south with an army of twelve thousand in order to honour their old pledge. Of course, armies needed swords, swords needed metal, and metal needed ore. Even though the army had long since departed, new equipment needed to be shipped to the front, and since many of the miners had gotten it into their heads to join the Dwarven Army, that meant the remaining miners needed to fill in for them.
Edric was one of these miners. At four feet, he was of average dwarven height, with a short brown beard and a bald head. Truthfully, he did not mind the work all that much. It wasn't as glorious as marching into battle, but someone had to do it, and the Pillar of Labour was just as important as the Pillar of Valour. That was what the Elders had always taught.
Dagar, however, was of a different mind. "By the Foundation..." He grumbled, stopping to wipe some threat from his brow as he stood at a nearby wall. He had forgotten to remove his gloves, so the act only served to further smear his forehead with grime and dust. Large-bellied with thick black hair and a long beard, the dwarf did not appear to be well suited to a life in the mines, yet here he was.
Dagar had always been known to favor the Pillar of Revelry more so than the other pillars. When it came to the mines, he was the last to show up and the first to leave. When it came to the tavern, it was the opposite.
Edric was not in a mood to converse, but Dagar continued regardless. "Seems like 'alf the smiths have gone south with the Princeling. 'ow much ore does the city really need?"
Beneath the gold, the Bitter Steel.
25-May-2018 03:20:08
- Last edited on
26-May-2018 21:25:31
by
NotFishing