Prologue “Blackstone ore. Hard, but its malleability is finer than any tree fairy’s steel. There’s a reason they like their arrows so much.” Young Idori stood just behind his father with towering mountains around him. They had been here since dawn, and as ravens pecked at the rocks nearby, Idori couldn’t help but think of how it was his birthday. Idori and his parents had lived in the Madora Valley, south of the great dwarven capital of Harrodarr, for as long as he could remember. His father had suffered a mining accident just before he was born. He struggled to use both of his arms, but with the one arm he could use, no stone was safe. He did what he could to provide for them, spending hours working in the forge at a distant village. They’d spend two to three days mining rock like today, and then his father would leave and work as long as he could. “Boy,” his father said in a gruff tone. He was supposed to be taking the pieces of blackstone and putting them in the cart, but as usual, his mind was wandering.
“Sorry, Papa, I—” He wasn’t sure what to say. His father turned to him, resting his pickaxe at his side. “You know, before the accident, I could have cleared three times what we’ve got here and carried it without a wagon all the way up the grand stairs of Harrodarr if I had to.” Idori smiled. “You always talk of the city so much, but we’ve never gone there!” His father nodded, a solemn expression crossing his face. “Well, we have a good life here. Your mama has been working on something rather special for you. We know you’ve heard her hammering away. Now, gather that stone. I think we’re good for now.” Idori did as his father asked him and found it odd they were leaving earlier than normal. But he was okay with it. As he placed the stones with the others in the cart, he went to Bilbu. Bilbu was a very old boar, too old for riding now, but Idori knew how he loved to pull their stone cart. The boar snorted as Idori patted him on the snout. “’Bout time to go. When we get back, I’ll get you a grizzle cake! We made bacon last night, and I saw Mama soaking it up with bread. You know what that means!” The boar bobbed its head, almost like a nod. “Ha! I knew it.”
They made their way toward their home, taking the path out of their personal quarry and up to the Ash Road. From here, they snaked up through the jagged reaches of the Vabidor Mountains. With the sun burning high above them, Idori was tired. But he knew his father would keep going, keep pushing. So he didn’t complain. They came to a narrow portion of the path, and Idori took Bilbu’s reins, assuring he didn’t wander too close to the edge. They were rather high now, and a slip from here would mean no more birthdays for whoever fell. “Come on, boy, make your way,” his father said, walking ahead of them. Thankfully, he had led Bilbu many times, and it was one of the few things he was confident about. After a few more precarious steps, they were back on solid ground. They had one more hill ahead and they’d be home. “I can’t wait to see what you and Mama got me for my birthday!” he said, waiting for his papa to say something. He looked back and realized that his father was kneeling and rubbing his right leg. “Bothering you again?” Idori asked. “It is, just give me a moment.” His father had many large scars from the accident. At one point, he had even been pinned under a mining cart for over a day, and his leg was never the same afterward. “Don’t mind me, boy. Get that cart home and get it unloaded.”
I hate when he gets like this. He knew his father didn’t mean to be angry. His injuries frequently crept back up. He turned back to the cart and continued on. * * * Reaching their simple three-stone cavern door, he smiled as he could smell that his mom was baking something. Their home was built into a large cavern, but off to the side, they had a workshop where the forge and ore storage was. He led Bilbu over and unhitched him. “There you go. I’ll get you that grizzle cake later! Need to hurry before Papa gets home.” He began to unload the stones and thankfully had the entire cart unloaded just as his father slowly made his way into the workshop. He was still limping. “My apologies, son. It just…it just really has been hurting more.” “Guess I need to be careful in the mines when I get old enough to go train like you did.” His father seemed to smile, strangely aloof for a moment, and then looked down. “Yes, the mines are a dangerous place. I was careless. That is why I teach you to swing hard and fast. Strike the stone with direct strokes. Do not hesitate. Ever.” His father headed inside, and he followed just behind.
* * * While from the outside their home didn’t look like much, the inside was far from simple. The walls were all hand carved by his mother, and while it wasn’t a massive dwarven hall like the stories of Harrodarr or even further dwarven cities to the west, it was the most beautiful red stone. There was a large central pillar, and around the pillar were racks of pickaxes, hand axes, and even a short sword. They had two different rooms off the main room. One was his parents’, and his, tucked in the back corner, was even larger than his parents’. The common room and cooking area were one and the same. A long fireplace was at the back of their home, and here was the largest black hammer he had ever seen. His father told him he was gifted that hammer after his accident in the mines, a weapon of the High Guard of Harrodarr, the Hammersong. Apparently, he had pulled two Hammersong out of a cave collapse just before he himself was trapped. Idori hoped he could be as brave as his father one day. For now, he’d make sure Bilbu got his grizzle cake and wait for his party. * * * The sun was beginning to set over the hills, the sky becoming a blend of red and deep orange. Idori had been in nervous anticipation of his party since earlier, and his parents had kept him outside while they set up. But now everything was ready. “Idori! Come! It is time!” his mother said. He joined them in the Great Room, where he found a large assortment of polished rocks set out across a table. There was polished red Dragon Orb, a blue Sea Pearl, and even a very tiny bit of unrefined mithril. “Mama, Papa! You got mithril!” His mother laughed. “Of course, we told you when you turned ten you’d get some. One day, you can get more, and then you can forge something from it.” He went to the table, picking up the stones and staring at the center of each. He had always wanted these exact stones. He tucked them into a pocket in his pants as he noticed the massive root cake his mother had made. The sugar and cinnamon were causing his mouth to water, but it was nearly as intoxicating to him as the salted pork sliced and prepared with sauteed onions. These were his favorite foods. “And this,” his mother said, tapping him on the shoulder. As he turned to her, she was holding something wrapped in simple cloth. She set it in his hands, and his father seemed to smile just a little. “You are ten, and the world is a curious place. But I made this, and I want it to always stay with you. No matter what you choose to do in life, this will be with you.” He unwrapped the rather heavy gift. As the cloths fell to the ground, he gripped the wooden handle of a beautiful short axe. The silver head had a halfmoon cutting edge and a large spike at the top. On the blade itself, written in dwarvish runes, read, “Moon of Twilight, Edge of Sunrise. May both guide, be with, and always protect you.” His father loved the moon high in the sky, and his mother, the sunrise. He smiled. “We are always with you, but one day you will go out and chase whatever dreams you have. No dwarf should ever be caught without an axe, and so no matter what, you have both our love and an axe.” “It’s infused with Lini ore,” his father said. “Lini ore?” he asked. He had not heard of that before. “It means it can be enchanted,” his mother said. “I can’t do it here, but enchanting is something you do in time anyway, especially with a personal gift.” He smiled. “Thank you so much, Mama. I love it. You, too, Papa.” She hugged him, kissing his head. “Now, how about we eat!” * * * His birthday was perfect. The food was better than any other time, and as was expected, his father poured him a small malt beer, which was customary of all dwarves when they turned ten. “Before I know it, you’ll be wanting to brew your own,” his father said.
“Never a thirsty dwarf when dwarves can brew their own ale, right?” Idori joked. He had never tasted beer, but as the suds tickled his nose, he sipped it. It was sweet and somewhat nutty, its flavor rushing across his tongue and turning bitter. He swallowed and kind of choked. His mother laughed. “Ah-ha! At least you got it down! I always heard your father spat it back out!” His father smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t know why you think that’s what happened, but our boy will be better than either of us.” “I’ll mine mithril! I know it!” he said. His father nodded. “You’ll do great things. That’s what I know.” * * * Night waned on, and as the hour grew late, the festivities had worn the young dwarf out. As his mother tucked him into his bed, he clenched his axe and smiled. “I’m not sure you should sleep with your axe in hand, son!” It wasn’t just his axe. He also had the stones he had been given. Those were in his pant pocket. “It’ll be fine. I know it. I’ll be careful.” She kissed his head. “You are your father’s son. Oh, how you’re your father’s son. Good night, my love.” She lifted up her thumb and index finger, making a tiny opening. “Do you love me this much?” It was something they had done since he was very little. He reached up, pushing her fingers apart. “No, Mama,” he said, pushing apart her fingers, “this much.” She smiled. “I’ll see you at sunrise.” He closed his eyes, thankful for the day and excited to see what tomorrow would bring. He’d try his axe out on a tree, take Bilbu on a walk, and likely help his father again with ore. His life was exactly as he wanted. * * * “NO! Get him, now! Go for the Northern Road!” Idori’s eyes sprung open at his father shouting. “What about the signal?!” his mother cried. “I already did, but they’ll never get here in time. I activated the guardian stone. It’ll only last a few moments.” Idori’s mother ran into the room, holding a hand axe, and ripped him from bed. “We have to go, now!” “What is it?!” he shouted, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. She pushed his cloak into his arms. “I don’t have time to tell you—” “Screw you all!” his father shouted. As they went into the great hall, he saw his father standing atop the table with the massive warhammer that had always remained above the mantel of the fireplace. Blackened shrouds seemingly aflame with black fire were filing into the room. “Who sent you? Was it him? Again?” his father asked. “Took you long enough to find me!” His mother forced Idori behind her. They were trapped. One of the figures hissed, “Your guardian was nothing. Barely a tripping stone. You hide here. You will die here.” His mother pushed him toward the corner of the wall. She moved a stone, and a passage opened. “Go, hide.” A sudden shroud appeared beside them. “Shadows hide us,” a voice growled. His mother threw him into the passageway, moving to slash the shadow with her axe, but the shadow was quicker, striking her first in the face and then in her stomach with a dagger. She grabbed at its hands, pushing it against the wall, and Idori watched in horror. His father was attacked from all sides. He had no armor, just his pants. His hammer seemed to hum as he moved it through the air, but he was stumbling about. They struck him in his shoulders, sending blood pouring from his body. The figure stabbed his mother again and again as she screamed. She struck the figure with the axe, but it fell from her hand. “Mama—” his voice squeaked. He had his axe, and he charged and cleaved into the figure’s leg. It dropped its grip on his mother and fell. Idori struck it again in the chest, then the right shoulder. It stumbled backward, its hood falling, revealing a face of broken bone and nothing else. He also fell backward, going to his mother, who was lying on her back, choking. “Mama! Mama!” He shook her, but she wasn’t responding to him. Her eyes looked toward him, and her hand fell to his. She stopped moving. His father was on his knees now, his hammer on the ground. The attackers had him surrounded. “You and your blood are finished. The shadows consume all that you tried to keep. Our work will soon be complete.” The figure struck him in the face. There was a cracking sound as his father fell onto his back. “The child! Kill the child!” one of them hissed. The figures headed his way. He grabbed his mother’s axe, taking both hers and his in hand. He would be brave. He wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t the dwarven way. The figures began running toward him when in an explosion of form, his father barreled forward with his hammer held high. He had never seen his father move like that; he didn’t understand it. The hammer was glowing, a melody in the air as he brought it down, shattering the entire form of the nearest attacker. He turned, making an arching swipe and knocking back more of the shadows. He looked at Idori, his nose fractured; his eye had been partially torn and was only just within his skull. Massive fissures and torn flesh hung from his body. “Run, my son! Run!” The attackers were on him again, and Idori went to run when a figure grabbed him. His father’s hands were suddenly upon this foe, and Idori felt a sharp pinch in his side. He fell backward as his vision faded in and out. He saw his father still fighting, smashing those that remained against one another before only the massive form of his father lumbering about remained. His father then fell to his knees and collapsed. * * * “They are dead,” a voice said. Idori opened his eyes to see a massive form with several others. He struggled to move as one of them approached. “No, not all. The boy lives.” It was dark except for the torches these strangers held. Their voices did not seem threatening. Nothing like the ones who had attacked them. He thought maybe this was all a dream. But the pain in his side told him it wasn’t. “Just a dead boar out in the forge,” another one said. Bilbu? No. Not him, too. Everyone. Everyone in my life is gone. “Idori,” a voice said. Idori tried to speak but couldn’t. In the pale torchlight, he could barely see who spoke. It was a dwarf in heavy metal armor with a hammer on his back not too unlike the one his father had used. “You’re safe. We will help you. We are friends.” “Who—who are you?” Idori managed to say. “We are Hammersong of Harrodarr. You are not alone.” ...
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