The Last Pantheon: of hammers and storms

by Jason Jones

  “Zen, what is it?!” Shinayne put her back to the wall by the throne, peering and sensing every direction. She felt nor saw any danger. She nodded to the rest, and they took positions around the door and the throne, ready for anything.

  “Shinayne…” Zen waved his hand down, tears in his eyes, and waited until they relaxed. “…how much is a sapphire worth, then?”

  “Thanks to the blue eyed nobility of Altestan, they are worth twice that of a diamond, but it depends upon the size and cut. Why?”

  “Say, the size o’ yer’ fist then, a bit smaller maybe, and cut square and stepped?”

  “Uhh…ehmm….that would be worth around one thousand platinum griffons, in Kilikala that is. Perhaps, ten thousand in gold, depending on the country. Why?” Shinayne followed Zen as he walked into the latrine.

  “So, a few thousand o’ those, and that would be?” Zen pointed as the rest gathered in tight.

  “By Siril…” Shinayne sheathed her blades and put her hand over her chest. “Millions…upon millions…is that…oh my…”

  Gwenneth stopped breathing, seeing the tomes and books, and the layers of shelved and stacked sapphires on the far wall. James just blinked over and over, not believing what he saw. Cristoff gasped and made the sign of the cross. Saberrak huffed and grinned.

  “See, as I said, no taxes.”

  “Vundrens certainty on that, Saberrak Agrannar, aye indeed.”

  No one moved, no one dared, for the riches of five or more kingdoms were before them. Centuries of history, coins, flags and banners, and chests of untold wealth stared back. The secret treasures of Kakisteele were silent, as were those that had found them, after two thousand years.

  The Dwarven Kingdoms

  Boraduum

  Bori Mountains

  Realm of Law and Family

  population 65, 875

  The youngest of the dwarven realms, Boraduum is well over three thousand years since ordained a holy seat by the MoonHammer of Vundren. It is here that the fourth and final section of tablet, from the Golhiarden, rests, high in the gray Bori Mountains. Although pious in their endeavors, the southern blackbeards of Boraduum have slowly adopted Agarian as a close second language, and even Aldane titles have replaced dwarven ones at many temples. The families of this cold and southern frontier mountain city have the most contact and trade with humans. Thurick and Tusko are both dwarven founded settlements, and trade with Hurne, Addisonia, Silverbridge, and Loucas in Chazzrynn, has been honored for thousands of years. Although uncommon, merchants will also trade with Claumoore and Fort Tyl, in Willborne.

  Boraduum represents the heart of dwarven family life, their homes often consisting of three to four generations, and built into the upper peaks of the southern Bori Mountains. The higher and closer to the peaks and outside world, the better one’s station and holdings in society are considered. Mining, tunneling, artistic and architectural stoneworking, leatherworking, smithing, and exploration are the mainstay of the men. Ceramics and pottery, cooking, education, and all manner of tailoring belong to the women. Children here are raised in Vundren guided schools, some in the very temples, yet education is dependent upon the one thing fought most for in Boraduum, money.

  Family here is a unifying force that one should not disrespect, yet at the end of life or any disagreement before then, a man is weighed by his coin and debts. It is their belief, derived from the Words of Vundren upon the Tablet, that all debts are paid at the end, and for a clean life and afterlife, this cannot be overlooked. That has been interpreted into a wide array of meanings, including family members adopting into other family names to avoid the looming debts of a misfortuned father. While there is no homelessness or poverty in Boraduum, women and children often abosorb into other clans upon the passing of a husband, and the collection of debts is presided over by both church and state.

  The glories of Boraduum are held in long written histories, and are mostly from great wars and battles across southern Agara. Famous kings and families have warred against ogre hordes, Bori giant clans, troll invasions, and even Altestan legions once or twice. The greatest war, the one sung most of in both tavern and temple, is over nine centuries past. It was in Draach Vyyn, Willborne, where the armies of Marlennak and Boraduum united against the forces of Khosk Bloodskull and the legion of Wyyvekan. The last of the wingless wyrms of southern heritage, seven to be precise, had been offered to the youngest ogre prince of Bloodskull, by his father. Travelling south, Khosk and his ogre legions decimated Willborne cities, determined to claim both valley and mountains as his own.

  Seeing the migration of ogre worsening in Chazzrynn, and Marlennak fearing the might of a growing Bloodskull in the Misathi, the kings of Boraduum and Marlennak communicated by messenger hawks alone, and strategized a flanking assault in the middle of Willborne. King Lomhik Thalanaxe led Boraduum while Marshall Runonn Anduvann led Marlennak for his elderly king. Within two days, the seven gray wingless dragons, five legions of ogre, and Prince Khosk himself lay dead at Draach Vyyn. Since then, the understood alliance between the two kingdoms has never come into question or dishonor.

  Siding with Chazzrynn in half a dozen battles, Boraduum has also earned legendary respect from southern human men and their own kin alike. The Second War of Harlaheim in 121 AD, The Willborne Revolution of 385 BC, and even the distant Cabberan Inquisition of 945 BC, Boraduum has come to the aid of its neighbors when the need was dire. The names of Granvang, Silvunak, Thalanaxe, Pirishak, Nalanobek, and Barrifaine have inscriptions and statues of their founders among the city streets. Boraduum is ruled today by King Neurik Nalanobek the First, who has three sons and two daughters with his wife, Queen Dinniya. Bishop Umrik Dalurthain holds the central Temple of Vundren in piety, while Marshall Kizek Pirishak keeps the Boruvan people safe with the Outguard Scouts.

  Fazurand

  Zuran Mountains

  Realm of Faith and Wealth

  population 36, 755

  Deep within the northern reaches of the Zuran Mountains, in the heart of Harlaheim’s sacred wine country, lies the hidden city stronghold of Fazurand. Here, it is written and said, the faith of Vundren is kept with a vigil most unbreakable. For those few outsiders who have claimed to have seen the wondrous depths of this kingdom, give them not a coin for their story, for it is but lies. To date, spanning over six thousand years of recorded history, no one but one of the Duvan (dwarven race) has set foot past the Fire Quartz Doors of Fazurand. By all accounts, the Zurnuvan people plan on keeping this isolated existence.

  The silverbeards, as they are called, are lighter of complexion and hair than their black or red bearded cousins in other nations. White to blonde to gray and silver, the dwarves of Fazurand also boast sky blue eyes with the strains of gray, white, and orange being honored as blessings. Many say this is due to the lack of sun, if any, a dwarf may see in their lifetime here. Others, sages and scholars mostly, say it is due to the radiating lights of the quartz and gemstone walls that give Fazurand a holy and mystical existence. The few residents that do see the sun, guarding the miles of bridgework leading to the only entrance, often develop freckles and sunspots rapidly, which keeps those duties limited to but a few years at most.

  Outside trade is seldom, only allowed with Marlennak in the Misathi Mountains. Fazurand will not trade with humans or elves directly, nor any other race, as they are very wary of engagements of others not of the faith of Vundren. To the dwarves of Fazurand, they are tasked with maintining the sacred first temples to their God, and tasks of trade and coin with non-believers is simply something they will not risk for the sake of ease or comfort. Harlaheim stopped their attempts at trade and commerce with Fazurand nearly sixteen centuries past, after more than twenty kings had their letters and messengers returned to them.

  Gem cutting and the art of precious stones is the expected craft for half of the men born here. Soldiers, priests, scholars, and sages of all sorts fill the rest. Despite its isolation deep underground, Fazurand often wars with salisans, t
rolls, cave giants, and other creatures of their far reaching realm. Many things that their men face, are not even known to the outside world. However, it is not the men that face the most deadly of horrors, it is the women, and by choice and divine guidance.

  When a woman of Fazurand becomes a widow by way of battle, she partakes in an ancient custom. Held at the Temple of the MoonHammer, the widow paints half of her face with black inked scripture, naming the deeds of her late husband. If she is too old or unable, the eldest daughter shall take her place, in honor. Once complete, a ritual is performed, and the woman is taken to the lowest tunnel and trained to stalk the shadows and kill with blade and knife, by others like herself. She becomes one of the Vonna Vundai, or Vundren’s Widows, and seeks to protect the outside tunnels deep in the earth below Fazurand. The family so honored to lose a matriarch in such a way, is held in noble regard henceforth, and pays no taxes for three generations to come.

  The heart of the dwarven faith of Vundren is here, in the city of temples, where the sacred MoonHammer resides. Mithrik Fairshield, the Holy Voice of Vundren, holds a sacred power over all the dwarven folk, even their kings. Any child born to a King or High Hammer, had better send word and prepare for the visit of the MoonHammer. Such a request is not always honored or available, yet monetary gifts and respects are expected be sent to Fazurand for the blessing, regardless. When travelling the outside world on divine errand, the MoonHammer will rarely be escorted by less than two thousand soldiers and priests.

  The ruling monarch of Fazurand, King Hihmel Gavrikk the Fifth, maintains the guilds and royal families of the nation as a representative more than a monarch or ruler. The noble lines of Gavrikk, Arnepyke, Joudeppe, Rishegre, Kreegan, and Vaehndrim are scheduled in turn to rule the throne, resulting in a complete lack of fighting for power or politics. The same is true of those of the faith, as Fairshield, Berlaborn, Vailenhelm, and theWikramm clans are evenly placed as to who shall rule when a MoonHammer passes on to Vundren. Such a passing of power brings the dwarves of all nations to Fazurand, in a ceremony that those who have partaken, will surely never forget.

  Marlennak

  Misathi Mountains

  Realm of War and Honor

  Population 79, 465

  Vuumber is the battle cry, and it is never failed in its return of voice and black steel bravado by any Masuvan clansman within earshot. The dwarves of Marlennak pride themselves upon their discipline, their ability to wage war, and their redbearded fearlessness in the face of battle and bloodshed. In fact, the warriors of this low mountain valley kingdom of the Misathi, have even frightened other dwarven folk with their chants to war. It is a common belief that five hundred redbeards on a march, sound as five thousand when driven to step and cadence. Their ferocity up close, is rumored to instill fear into twice that number.

  Where heavy weapons are forged with blackened steel, where bridges to districts and castle climes below the surface beckon, one may find themselves in fabled Marlennak. Open to visitors of any race, this hidden city offers hospitality, should one brave the red Misathi Mountains to find it. Giant stone doors of crimson rock and bronze adorne several places in the central valleys here, all leading to the capital of war for the dwarven race. Here, salisan hordes, ogre kingdoms, cannibal tribes, giants of the clouds, great northern dragons, and even a score of deep mountain and underground races threaten. And, Marlennak lets them threaten, in fact, they invite it.

  The Southside leads up to Redbridge, and that leads to both Blackbridge and Greenbridge, all sourrounding Castle Vairrek and the heart of the cavernous chasms of Marlennak. There, the Tablet of War is guarded, along with ancient temples and libraries. To exit north, one must take Goldbridge to Bronzebridge, in order to pass to Northside. Each bridge is miles long, heavily guarded, and sealed by doors and bars that force intruders into ever tightenting tunnels, and falls of thousands of feet onto jagged rock. The warlords of Marlennak have been noted for their love of battle, especially an invasion or siege, simply for the pleasure of another bridge skirmish, and the screams that accompany it.

  When the battles are over, there are several pleasures left for the weary soldier. Thick spicy wines, dark meads, and even harder spirits of dwarven whiskey are the favorite. Pipes kindle with traded tobaccos from Caberra. Taverns outnumber temples at least five to one here, and competitions of eating, drinking, and other odd concoctions are quite commonplace. Debates are often solved with such traditions. Women here, although not involved in the fighting and war, are feared in the home more than the men. Since violence toward one another is nearly unheard of, the ladies of the curling redbeards have used their intimidation and verbal skills to keep even the most renowned warrior in his proper place, beside his wife.

  The merchant quarters team with exotic foods and drink from nations around, as Marlennak travels often to the Shanador Tradeways, in both search for commerce, and perhaps a fight along the way. Dwarves of this nation are outspoken, eager to meet and greet, and very forthright in announcing themselves and demanding the same in return. Shanador leans upon them for trade and talk, and is quite used to the loud visits. In fact, relations between Shanador and Marlennak have always been sound, especially in times of war or confrontation.

  King Viddomok the Fourth of Clan Hadrubann has passed on decades ago, leaving his sons to rule equally, despite the laws of age and birth. His testament and requests were honored, and for the first time in recorded dwarven history, a nation has two kings. Therrak the Younger, King of the North and the City, rules from one throne. Rallik the Elder, King of the South and the Mountains, sits across from his brother, the two of them in debates that last weeks at times.

  Recently, Tannek Anduvann, the Marshall of the South, Drodunn, the High Priest of the Cracked Wall Temple, and Brunnwik, the High Hammer of Marlennak, were peacefully exiled. The dispute was regarding the lineages of Azenairk Thalanaxe, Mudren Sheldathain, and the lost myths of Kakisteele. The Marshall of the Northern Outguard Scouts is being replaced as well, having lost a challenge of flask and mug, to the previously mentioned Marshall. Though the matter is agreed upon by both kings, a rare instance indeed, the relations of the Anduvann Clan have stepped forth to see this ruling reversed. Primarily organized behind Chordene Anduvann, wife of Drodunn, the petition seems to be making progress before the thrones, quite rapidly in fact.

  Kakisteele

  Kaki Mountains

  Realm of Forges and Secrets

  Population 273

  Far to the west, hidden among the golden peaks of the mythical Kaki Mountains, supposedly lies a place that most dwarves say does not truly exist. It is said, in tall tales and superstition alone, that Vundren and his brothers built a kingdom for themselves and their angelic children, long before the desecration and flood of Aldane teachings. It was abandoned for thousands of years, yet Vundren called from Mount Maonell to his devout, and they arrived to this empty place, centuries later.

  What is said to be there, is the legendary Thane Kalivak, a divine forge made by God, for the survival of all people. Not only a forge, but forges devoted to all Carician Gods of old, and temples arranged for them all as well. The Last Pantheon of the White Moon, so the stories go, was to be the center of all worship upon Agara, in fact, it was hailed as the new holy land. For a short time, this place was rumored to be populated by the Vunuvan, brownbeards, amber haired dwarven nobility, sent by the father of their race. There, a king by the name of Mudren Sheldathain ruled for a short stretch of years, right before the Inquisition of Altestan came to their lands, in secret. All history and knowledge was destroyed, the mines and caverns looted of wealth, and a curse of the northern oppression was placed with demons and fiends to hold it as such, for all eternity. It was the will of God, Yjaros, and so it became truth.

  Truth, to the curse at least, is evident. A storm of hurricane force gales spins around this area by day. At night, it is said the dead, both bones and spirits, wander the ruins and lands, in search of escape. For over two thousand years, ze
alous historians, brave knights, greedy treasure-seekers, kings, and all manner of adventurer have boasted of their planned excursions into the stormlands of the west. None, despite the size of their army, mettle of their courage, or nobility of blood, has ever returned. Dwarven legions lost, elven scouts vanished, and human armies from five different kingdoms, never heard from again. The city of Mooncrest, the Curselands of Armondeen, the elven realm of Tintasarn, all inside the Kingdom of the Crescent Moon, San Sidomius in the ancient Carician texts, and no one has seen it found or freed.

  Here, the lost fourth of the Golhiarden, Sacred Tablet of Vundren, is said to reside with secrets of the Divine Forge. Who the forge is for, what manner of weapons it creates, and why, are all questions without answers. Like many other dwarven kingdoms long gone, Kakisteele seemed to be abandoned to myth and legend, until just recently.

  From Boraduum, one priest of Vundren inherited the very deed to Kakisteele, from his passing father, and he promised to find it. Through lineage too astounding to follow, spanning all four known dwarven kingdoms, a box with a key, a bag of ancestral ashes, and the rights to the lands of Kakisteele, have been passed on. This descendant, one Azenairk Thalanaxe, set out from his home, into the unknown. From Chazzrynn he left east, with the strangest and most powerful of allies. A knight of Southwind named James Andellis, a gray minotaur gladiator named Saberrak Agrannar who escaped from Unlinn, an elven noble by the name of Shinayne T’Sarrin from Kilikala, and a prodigal wizard known as Gwenneth Lazlette of Vallakazz, all accompanied Azenairk upon this promised journey.

  Through the dangers of Valhirst and the Carisian Sea they went, hunted by the White Spider and even Altestan. From their landing in Harlaheim they faced salisan hordes and dragons amidst a revolutionary war. Fleeing Devonmir, they raced into Deadman’s Pass, barely surviving the trek to Marlennak. After leaving the two kings there, they continued through the giant infested Misathi, and made it to Evermont, in Shanador. Once they saw the Kaki peaks and the storm, they turned west, and fought their way into Kakisteele. It is said that they freed two of the lost Carician Immortals, ended the curse of Arabashiel and her demons, and fought off the armies of Armondeen as they tried to lay claim. They were not alone, as those of faith had followed them.