Ulrin Mercantile Hub.

Forgrim was a dwarf. Was being the key word. Like all dwarves he cared and respected the stone and ground beneath his feet like all his kin did. So sure in its firmness and reliability like the Stone Father Himself. Or so Forgrim had thought.

Then that day, that dreaded day. The day when the ground wasn't so firm and welcoming. Wasn't so reliable and sure. The day that made him no longer a dwarf, he thought as he stared into his pint of beer. It wasn't dwarven unfortunately. If it was, he could down it with the assurance that it would numb his worries long enough to sleep. But it wasn't. It was the piss water that humans made and no matter how much he chugged it he would be little more than mildly buzzed at best. Even the local variety that the local humans call "moonshine" does little to sooth away the fear and uncertainty.

He wasn't the only one though, he thought as he turned his gaze to the other dwarves that had joined him in that ill-fated venture up the hill. A dozen had gone up that hill. Two had fled for help when things turned bad. Those lucky bastards, Forgrim thought bitterly. If only the rest of them had the good sense to've ran as well.

Instead they stayed and fought with those kobolds, and that creature. Forgrim shuddered as even now he could see those ghostly lights whenever he closed his eyes. Like they were burned into his mind! Never letting him, or the others, forget their folly. It wasn't what made them no longer dwarves though. What made them no longer dwarves was that they could no longer find peace and comfort in the stone. Their homes were built from sturdy solid stone. Yet there was nothing there but nightmares and fear for them.

Even when doing their shifts in the tunnels was like entering a foreign realm. Dwarves that were scared of being underground! There was no such thing though. Even those like him that were born aboveground and far away from any of the dwarf holds or even Orgram-Khazar, or simply The Capital in the Common Tongue, had much love and respect and still found comfort below the ground.

Even those of his kin that had traveled deep below the ground. Far away and hidden within the dark crags and caverns. Those that were said to've turned their backs on the Stone Father and instead turned to dark magics and used their divine gift of forging and craft into creating dark devices used for enslavement, torture, and other cruel profanity!

Even they were considered dwarves. Though no surface dwarf would ever even utter that such kin even existed in the first place. But Forgrim and the others? They wouldn't be considered dwarves. Even those dishonored by their clans for unforgivable deeds were at least acknowledged as being dwarves.

But not Forgrim. For what dwarf says they're afraid of the stone? Afraid of the firm and cool embrace of the Stone Father's domain?! No. He was no longer a dwarf. He nor the rest of his party that had survived that dreaded day. At first it was just physical injuries. Deep gashes and cuts that were far too close to severing something important.

But those healed thanks to the efforts of the rune priests. Though not all of them were lucky. Halstad was the first to go. Though with how little of his arm was left and how much blood was lost that wasn't a surprise to anyone. But to hear that Olin also passed swiftly was. He wasn't as fortunate as the rest of them and those dreaded thorns cut him just right. When the rune priests removed the bandages he had received from the kobolds he had bled out within seconds! He was gone before the rune priests even knew what was happening.

Then again, maybe they were the lucky ones, Forgrim thought as he downed his pint of beer. At least their suffering has ended. While the rest of theirs's continues on. They couldn't even sleep anymore without nightmares of the ground opening up to consume them with thorned teeth while pale lights bear down on them like specters of death. It was better if they didn't try and sleep in their stone homes. They had started sleeping in the worker bunkhouses instead. But even that only lessened their dread. Even there the shadows seemed to have minds of their own and none of the dwarves found fruitful sleep.

So they had thrown themselves into their work as best they could. Working until their arms and legs were but jelly and they were ready to pass out from exhaustion. But dwarves aren't known for being weak and frail. Some of them worked for days on end until they couldn't anymore. But all it did for them was make their bodies as weak as their spirits and minds were.

One of them had thought about going to the rune priests. A curse is what it was, some of them said. Forgrim could believe that. Nothing that happened was of the natural world after all. But none had yet to approach the ornery rune priests for fear of hearing something different. What if it wasn't a curse? What if they were well and truly afraid of going underground again?

The day would come though, Forgrim thought. As much as they might've kept their ills and woes hidden like the stoic folk that dwarves are, even their fellow kin were noticing that things were amiss with them. It wouldn't be long before they are called to answer for their undwarf-like behavior.

He jumped a little when the shrill whistle rang out signaling an end to their break. The humans grumbled and trudged to their duties while the dwarves were eager to resume their work. Except for Forgrim and his party. They all knew that they would have to brave their fears once again.

He looked at the others and found that they were as dispirited as before. He was sure if he peered into a mirror he would see the same sullen expression that they had on his face. The same haunted look in their eyes that seemed to dart at every shadow and dark corner like that Haunter would somehow appear and lay his fell eyes upon them once again.

An apt name, he thought grimly. Haunter. What else was there to call that creature? Demon? Fey? No. Dwarves had dealings with both before and none would label that creature as either. It was... wrong. Like its very presence seemed to corrupt and twist the natural world around it. Demons and fey don't do that. Can they change the land? Yes. But what that creature did wasn't just change it. It USURPED it! Like a parasite!

A fitting description indeed. Even now he could point out each and every spot that had been slashed and cut by those fell thorns. The rune priests did good work. There was barely even any scarring. But even now he could feel something different where he had been attacked. It wasn't like a piece of him was missing. It was like a piece of him was CHANGED! Like a part of him had been claimed by that fell Haunter!

He had to shake his head and dismiss those thoughts though. He knew the others felt it too. The same feeling of perversion within them. They also knew what would happen if they let it fester in their minds. One of their number had driven himself batty at the thought that something was in him and had taken a knife and tried to carve it out of himself!

That was the first real clue to the rest of the dwarves that something wasn't right with their lot. He had gotten restrained before he could seriously injure himself though. Was chalked up to poor sleep and stress from everything that happened. But he could see the rune priests mumbling among themselves as he was taken away for care.

He wasn't sure which he would care to hear, Forgrim thought. That they were cursed by that foul creature, or that they had gone mad from it! But he was sure it it wouldn't be long before they had their answer as the rune priests checked in on the maddened dwarf. In the meantime though, the rest of them would have to carry on and shoulder their burdens a while longer.

Part of why the rune priests hadn't checked them for anything such as being cursed was because the runery, their temple/workshop, had yet to be completed and what work they could do was limited to quelling physical ailments and injuries as best they could. Once it was fully completed then he was sure they'd approach them and see to any possible foul curses or afflictions had befallen them.

Or so he hoped, Forgrim thought as he and the rest of them had gathered their tools and made for the tunnels into the mountains. The place was looking like a proper dwarf hold. It'd never be like Orgram-Khazar though. But then again, few places were like the dwarven capital. A dwarven metropolis built within the confines of a truly gigantic cavern! One that even had its own weather and ecosystem separate from the world above!

He had seen it but once in his life. But he'll never forget the feeling and sight of travelling by pack ram along the large cobbled roads past the giant mushroom forests and beholding the great dwarven capital! The air was filled with countless plumbs of smoke and steam from thousands of workshops and homes. It went so far into the cavern that he couldn't see either end of the city even when he neared the gate. But that wasn't the only thing that was grand about it. It also went UP! Several gigantic stone pillars that rose from the ground and up to the cavern's roof was littered with thousands of lights and stairs as dwarves used every inch available for all manner of housing and workspace. Even the cavern roof had stretches of buildings carved from the ceiling with stone walkways and bridges crisscrossing from pillar to pillar as it seemed an entire city had been built in a seeming mirror to the one below it!

Yet the city still went on further he heard. Some said that the city actually continued on up towards the surface as well! Others said that the city went as deep as the core of their world! It was so large that it took days just to get from the gate to his destination. He was sure that if the city reached the edges of the cavern that there would be dwarves staking a claim on every spot all the way up to the roof and then upon the roof itself! Even the clan office was seemingly gigantic compared to the pitiful one they had in Daele and had two waterfalls from some hidden lake or ocean nearby that spilled an untold amount of water on either side of a bridge that led just to the clerk desks!

As grand as they might make this place, all dwarves that beheld the capital all knew that nothing would ever compare to the majesty that was the heart of dwarfdom. But thoughts of such a grand place did little to quell his troubled mind.

He was forced to forge ahead to his duty for today. He had some small hope that he could be given sentry duty instead, or perhaps assigned to the rangers and scout out the mountains. He heard from some of the dwarves at the watering hole that they had encountered a mated pair of owlbears nearby! But they didn't want to risk angering two beasts as they seemed to be getting ready to hibernate. They were already an aggressive lot and gorging themselves for winter, and maybe preparing for a cub, made them even more temperamental.

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Honestly, anything was better than going back down into the tunnels in search of ore. All they've managed to find so far is fyrstone, and lots of it. But they had yet to find any decent veins of iron or even copper. The clan patriarch was growing dissatisfied and impatient and Forgrim couldn't blame him. What kind of mountain had so little to offer?

Everything about this new world was strange and wrong, Forgrim thought as him and the others collected their picks, shovels, and hammers and made their way to the tunnels, only to be stopped by Alwin, one of the patriarch's sons.

"Not today lads. Your goin' ta tha rail tunnel."

Forgrim and the others looked confused for a moment. The clan has been blasting at the collapsed section of tunnel for what seemed like weeks now. Why would they be sent there if blasting it didn't do anything, Forgrim thought. Fortunately it was another that voiced such a question.

"Why there?"

"We believe tha' there is little left o' tha rubble remainin'. We want laborers ready for when it's cleared ta move in and secure it ta prevent future collapses." Alwin explained.

The crew looked a little unsure, and he could swear that Alwin looked at them with a curious expression on his face. Forgrim couldn't blame the others though. He wasn't too thrilled to be going into a place that already has a history of being unreliable and prone to collapsing on them.

But they were part of the clan. They couldn't refuse even if they wanted to. So the dwarves made their way over to the collapsed section of tunnel. Past the human trains that sat collecting even more rust as the dwarves and gnomes went over every inch of them in trying to get them back up and running after the recent string of problems that had befallen them.

He heard whispers of sabotage spoken whenever word came up about the trains. The patriarch has made no secret that he wishes to travel out of the hub and to one of the nearby human cities for himself. It's also no secret that not long after The Haunter had departed from the area that the trains had started breaking down before they could make it out of the hub.

Perhaps another curse, Forgrim thought grimly. But the rest of the dwarves seemed to be casting their eyes on the humans instead. They heard tales of humans further into the mountains and hills that didn't seem to like the idea of the tunnel going through the mountain. But so far they've been quiet towards them. Something that some of the local humans have said is unnatural and worrisome.

Then there was the humans dressed in black and whose train appeared every other night. Pulling silently into the hub and departing with nothing on board save for the hollow containers empty of their burdens. It was these secretive humans that seemed to worry the dwarves more than these "hillfolk" the locals whisper about in such a tone that made them seem more like monsters lurking in the dark than humans.

Then again, he heard that The Haunter was actually related to them as well. If that were true, perhaps they really are unnatural creatures of the dark that the locals have every right to fear. His troubled thoughts ceased though as they came to the sight of the tunnel. Much of it had already been cleared by days of excavation and blasting and one could walk at least several arms length into the mountain before reaching the supposedly last of the rubble.

Many of the other laborers had gathered as well. Some had logs fashioned into support beams at the ready while others carried all manner of mining and excavation equipment that they had. Yet more stood on the sidelines as they prepared for the taxing logistics of tunneling into the mountain. Rune priests stood even more stoically nearby with runic bandages ready for any injuries that might impede work. Cooks were already preparing fresh rations for the hours or perhaps even days of tunneling that they'll be doing. Waterholders that would be accompanying them into the dark as they kept parched throats at bay.

He spotted several of the indentured among the ranks of the latter. Mainly children whose parents had the idea of dragging their children into being shackled with their debts, either knowingly or not. At least it wasn't a terribly hard job. Not like they would be chipping away at rock and stone like the rest of them. Though he has heard some dwarven clans aren't so lenient to the indentured. Some are cruel taskmasters that have entire families laboring in mines or workshops to pay off their debts. He's even heard of entire dwarven clans falling so far into debt and ruin that they are forced to become servant clans for generations just to avoid losing their clan's honor or risk being exiled and barred from all dwarf holdings until they either payed off the debt or a sufficient feat was attained by a member that made them worthy of their debts being washed away in pride and glory.

He doubt that such a thing will befall him though, Forgrim thought. He belonged to a cadet branch of the Ulrin Clan and so would have SOME favor to pull on to avoid such a fate. If whatever curse or malaise that had befallen him and the others didn't take its toll on them first.

He watched as the others shuffled about. Most were excited to be working on something that wasn't mining for fyrestone or eating away at the land around them for houses and workshops. But Forgrim and his party weren't content and buzzed with a nervous energy as they could feel an animosity coming from the rubble.

If anyone else felt it they didn't let it show like they did. One of the dwarf leads marched over to where a explosive detonator was placed well away from the rubble. He turned to the large group of laborers.

"READY?!"

The group cheered excitedly and the dwarf turned back towards the detonator and spat into his hands before placing them on the pump. With a grunt he pressed down and the world shook as the bundles of explosives went off. A boom rumbled the air and rock flew and tumbled every which way. Some of the laborers were quick enough to dodge out of the way of the falling rubble while others were still too dazed from the explosion and found themselves prone either from the shockwave or from stray debris.

No-one was killed fortunately. Though it wasn't taken as a good omen that some had gotten injured so soon into a project. The mood of the group seemed to lessen as they got their bearings and gazed upon the gaping hole that now yawned before them.

If the rest of them couldn't sense the animosity coming from the mountain before. He was ADAMANT that they could now! It was like the darkness itself was glaring at them. He and the others began to panic as the same feeling of dread raced through their veins and into their hearts like ice as they began to wonder if The Haunter had returned and were staring intently at the darkness, waiting for those dreaded bale eyes to pierce through the shadow and into their souls!

The lead dwarf, no less hesitant than the rest, but braver than they, looked to the group and then back to the yawning chasm before them. He turned and called to the rest of them.

"Well? Off we go!"

His voice was unsteady though. Even the nearby rune priests could sense that something was foul in the air and they glared at the darkness as they gripped their runic hammers, ready for whatever might come from the darkness that seemed to swallow what little light there was.

The lead dwarf visibly swallowed and turned towards the darkness. None made to enter. Even he took slow hesitant steps towards the impenetrable wall of shadow before him. Step by step he inched closer. All sound was seemingly gone from the world as everyone and everything seemed to hold their breath, waiting for what might happen.

Though it might've been a minute, maybe two, it felt like an eternity for Forgrim and the rest. But eventually the dwarf reached the darkness and brought his shaking hand up and inched it forwards.

As soon as his fingers seemed to touch the blackness, it exploded. The still air was shattered into screams as creatures of no natural make burst forth from the void! One of these creatures immediately leapt upon the lead dwarf and clamped its worm-like maw around his head. The dwarf cried out for but a moment before a sickening crunch silenced him forever.

The rest of the creatures weren't idle though. They raced towards the rest of the laborers with seemingly malicious intent! As they got closer Forgrim could see the unnatural nightmares that birthed forth from the dark womb of this world.

They were like hounds or wolves with the heads of worms, their maws were circular and ringed with teeth with a long thin barbed black tongue that darted out and switched between acting like a spear or a whip as it either lashed against exposed legs and arms or darted to puncture through clothes and even thick leather armor. Their bodies had black chitin along their back and where their thick clawed limbs attached to their pale bodies that seemed to secrete some kind of viscous fluid. Their backs were covered with thick bristles. But their eyes was what was unnerving for Forgrim. Six beady black eyes were on either side of their worm-like heads.

Forgrim couldn't move as he watched the creatures closing in on him and the rest of the laborers that were too scared to flee. If it wasn't for the rune priests charging into battle with cries to the Stone Father and their ancestors then he was sure that he'd been next.

But fate seemed kind to him as a crunch and whine from one of the beasts was enough to shake him and the others out of their dazes and either run or enter combat. Though he might not consider himself a dwarf because of his recent fear of the underground, that didn't mean he would leave his kin alone to die to these monsters.

So he charged the creatures with his pickaxe and roared as he brought the pick down and pierced the chitin of one of them! It gave a shrill unnatural cry as it turned its equally unnatural head towards him and brought its tongue to bear and lashed it against his arm!

It hit him harder than he thought the thin muscle was capable of and he found himself flung away from his improvised weapon and his foe. He barely had time to sit up before the monster was upon him and it was only careful timing and good fortune that prevented it from clamping its circular maw around his head!

Growing frustrated it instead started using its tongue as a spear and punched it into the ground just where his head had been not even a heartbeat ago! The next jab he wasn't so lucky however and got a gash across his forehead. He feared that the next would go right through his skull!

Fortune seemed to be on his side for now though as a roar arose from nearby and a heavily plated dwarven warrior charged into the beast with axe in plated fist! The dwarven warrior roared and slammed his fist into the creature to daze it before bringing his axe down on its neck. But the chitin kept it from completely being severed and the dwarf wrenched Forgrim's pick from the monster's side and brought it around to pierce its worm-like head.

It gave a last shrill death rattle as it fell down dead. But the dwarven warrior didn't stop to see to Forgrim or even admire his handy work as he reclaimed his axe and charged once more into the fray, joining his fellow dwarven warriors as they rallied to the rune priests that still held back some of the creatures.

Forgrim rose and reclaimed his own weapon and glanced around in an effort to see what he might need to do or who needed help. It wasn't long before he could see more enemies coming their way. This time it was what looked like humans dressed in dark purple hooded robes. They cried out in crazed voices and charged at anyone nearby with a curved ritual dagger.

Forgrim brought his pick up in time to stop a downward stab at him from one of the robed figures. He could only see his eyes from two holes in the hood but that was enough to see that whoever these people are were crazed beyond reason. The robed figure kicked at Fulgrim in an effort to send him off balance but the dwarf was still hardy enough to prevent such a thing from what was more than likely a human.

Or so he thought. He wasn't sure if it was a curse or fatigue from working himself ragged or perhaps some dark boon from whomever these men served. But Forgrim found himself crumbling before the robed figure as it felt like he was just hit in the gut with a hammer instead of a simple boot.

Once again he found himself fighting for his life from a disadvantage as the robed figure brought the dagger closer and closer to Forgrim's throat. He laughed manically as the dagger inched its way closer.

"She will have what was taken from Her! You're blood will sate Her thirst and quench Her rage!"

Forgrim found his arms weakening as whatever seemed to either aid his enemy or hinder himself did its work and he was beginning to come to terms with the fact that he was about to die when he heard a boom and the robed figure's head snapped back and blood and viscera poured forth from the wound.

Despite his previous weakness, or his foe's strength, the body was far easier to cast aside now that it was dead. He turned to the source of his assistance and found another dwarf, but this one was carrying the new thundersticks that the clan was being supplied with by someone in the town.

The dwarf swung the long barrel around and sent another robed figure to the ground followed by one of the creatures. Forgrim took this opportunity to admit he was out of his depth now and retrieved his pick and retreated to where the others had ran to and regrouped.

As he did though, he could hear more fighting. Not just from behind him either. He could see dwarven rangers up in lookout towers taking aim to their east towards the mountains and firing at something. He wasn't sure if it was goblins using the chaos as a chance to attack or if their foe was coming in from more than just the opened tunnel.

It wasn't long before he and the others found out though. As Forgrim regrouped with the others they readied their weapons as more dwarf warriors ran towards both the tunnel and towards the main gate. He even saw some heading towards the newly excavated homes and mining tunnels! Just how big was this assault, Forgrim thought as he wasn't sure where to even go to assist.

Then he heard a bestial roar coming from nearby and saw something charge into a line of dwarven warriors. At first glance it appeared to be a human. But it took little thought to dispel that assumption as he noted the darkened hooves, curved horns, bestial head with a vertical maw filled with teeth and a similar tongue to the wormwolves. It rammed its horns into a dwarven warrior and tossed the dwarf away like he was nothing before slamming down a primitive axe upon another dwarf's plated helmet.

Fortunately for the dwarves, dwarven armor is as sturdy as they were and held fast against the primitive onslaught. Not that it still didn't make holding formation against such a creature easy though as its size and monstrous strength and surprisingly quick movements made combating it difficult.

But they were dwarves and they would not abandon a fight. Forgrim and the other dwarves readied their own improvised weapons and moved in to join the fight yet again.