When Illithar and Erwin awoke, the Librarian created food for them to eat, having already disarmed most if not all the traps in his way. Once they had finished eating the food, far finer than they had expected, he once more began to make his way deeper into the mountain, the Custodian bearing the hammer leading the way.
This time, there were many branching tunnels but these were mostly ignored, the Librarian had already mapped out most of the tunnels by using the shadows so he didn’t need to explore them. And then finally, they reached the end of the main tunnel, standing before a pair of great stone doors, the dull gleam of metal inlay shining past the layer of dust the doors had collected through the centuries.
As they stood for a moment, appreciating the beauty of the door, the Librarian gave a silent command to the Custodian at the front. At his order, the Custodian began to move to the door, taking the great Hammer of Thavrar in its hand and then swinging it at the door, a great thud echoing throughout the tunnels. Two more times did the Custodian knock upon that door before it lowered the hammer, stepping back to await the door’s opening.
Deep within the mountain did those strikes echo, mostly falling on the empty tunnels that were hardly used anymore. But, they were not unheard, ears within the darkness caught the faint echoes and turned their heads in curiosity, waiting uncertainly in the darkness. In the silence that followed, hushed voices arguing amongst themselves on what needed to be done. Eventually, this was brought to the attention of the dwarven lord who, after much deliberation, decided to set out with a small party to investigate.
Of course, there were those that advised that he stay back but he could not. He told himself and the others that it was his duty to go forth but in reality, he was just wanted to get off that damned overrated chair. That stone throne was all he had known these last few centuries, he wanted to see something else, something new. And so, donning armor that hadn’t been worn for an age as well as a great mace which had only seen the oilcloth he used to polish it, he set out to find the source of what could only be called the knocking.
But as they marched, the dwarven Lord was wondering just what exactly caused the sound. The dwarves closest to the sound said that it sounded like it came from the South Hall, but that was impossible. The South Hall faced away from the passages connecting to the other cities so it couldn’t be a dwarf and since the South Hall could only be entered by passing through the maze, it certainly couldn’t be an outsider... could it?
However, he couldn’t think of a reason as to why a Crystallum would knock or why a demon would do so, he was just so terribly confused. In fact, he began to grow hesitant as to whether he should really keep on going, slowing down until he eventually came to a stop.
Confused, one of his guards asked, “Mi’Lord?”
Remembering himself, he shook his head.
“It is nothing, I was just thinking.”
The dwarven lord continued to move again, gripping his mace tightly as his heart pounded with anticipation. And finally, he stood before the great Southern Gate, not once having been opened since it had been sealed on the year 126 of the new calendar, started on the day that the Great Hammer of Thavrar was lost. It happened twelve years after the Calamity had begun, a day so terrible that the dwarves deemed it the day that their culture died.
The new calendar, named the Final Calendar, was brought about that day to symbolize the beginning of the end. It was believed that there would be no other calendar after this one, after all, what hope did the dwarves have after they lost the most important artifact of their people.
That was why, when the Southern Gate was opened, all the dwarves present froze, for it was impossible. Before them, they saw the Great Hammer of Thavrar, even though it had been lost, there was no dwarf who did not know the great hammer. For centuries, tales of the Hammer were spoken off, most often of its creation. As he stared upon the magnificence of the great Hammer, he remembered those words, falling to his knees as tears began to flow.
Thavrar, the First King of the Dwarves, did not gain power so easily. It was only through his vision of his Great Hammer and the aid of Agleon that he was able to unite the dwarves. Nothing more than a simple miner, he stumbled upon a cave, a cave that held a great emerald. This great jewel was no ordinary jewel, it was a shard of Agleon’s very own heart. As for why the shard was there, who could tell except Agleon herself, perhaps it was by Agleon’s hand that he came to find the great gem.
In awe of the great gem, Thavrar reached out a hand and touched its surface, immediately overcome by a vision of greatness. Emblazoned in his mind was the Hammer he would create, the Opifex, the Maker of Kings. It would be forged with the gem serving as its heart, a weapon that held the might of Agleon herself. Obsessed with the vision he saw, he searched for ways to create the hammer, but each was met with failure.
In desperation, he begged the gods themselves to aid him and with pity in their hearts, they lent him their power. With the blessing of the gods, he was able to brave the depths of Agleon, discovering molten lakes, each filled with all the materials that he would need to create his great hammer. With his bare hands, he took each material in its molten form and formed each to the shape he desired, creating first a frame of mithril and orichalcum around the two emerald shards before he dipped it in a pool of molten adamant, the heat of this pool so great that even with his divine protections, his skin came away scorched and blistered.
But even so, Thavrar persevered, taking out the rough block of adamant which he would carve to the form all would know it as. With hands that had received the blessing of Builder God, he began to shape the hammer, smoothing the adamant’s rough surface to match that with the parameters of the metal frame.
And eventually, he finished, holding aloft the great Hammer, made entirely of adamant with a frame of silver mithril and golden orichalcum, the Opifex was as beautiful as it was powerful, with two heads, one for pulverizing and the other for piercing. Designed to be held in one hand, the sword-hilt was graced with a pommel of glowing emerald, Agleon’s heart.
And it was this great weapon which would make him King, as its name suggested, a name that was made along with the weapon, not given. The Opifex, with the limitless strength of Agleon, conquered all of his foes and made him stand indomitable in the face of adversity. It gives the wielder the stability of a mountain, the strength of the volcano, and the energy of Agleon. It was the Opifex, Maker of Kings, the symbol of the Mighty Dwarf King.
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Similarly, the other dwarves fell to their knees as they beheld the Opifex, their hearts awash with great emotion. But, as they recovered, their eyes saw past the hammer to its current wielder, a tall figure cloaked in black robes. Seeing that it was a foreigner who held the Hammer, the governor stood up, charging the figure while demanding that he release the Opifex. But his efforts were for naught, for a voice spoke from behind the figure, a voice which once more brought him and his dwarves to their knees.
As the governor struggled to keep his head high, he saw the wielder of the Opifex step aside, revealing another cloaked figure, however, this one was obviously of higher authority. It was the Librarian, with his robes of black and silver and his eye, which shone like faint starlight. Staring at him, the governor was filled with instinctual awe and fear, this was a being that was beyond his understanding. As he reached this conclusion, the strange power which forced him to kneel disappeared, the dwarf and his guards cautiously standing up to face the Librarian.
A moment of silence passed until the Librarian bowed his head, saying, “I am sorry for treating you roughly but if I had let you attack, I’m afraid my Custodian would’ve killed you all in retaliation.”
The governor gulped upon hearing those words, as he studied the Custodian again with a clearer mind, he had no doubt that what the stranger had said was true. Feeling it was improper that the offended party should apologize, the governor bowed deeper.
“The fault lies with me and mine guards, you are not at fault. I thank you for sparing our lives.”
The Librarian said, “You need not bow for a fault that was not yours, I understand why you acted as you did, the fault does not weigh entirely upon you and your men.”
The governor, sighing inwardly with relief, stood up again, although he still needed to look up at the Librarian. But, remembering his duty as the Governor of the Southern Mountain, he stood at attention.
“I am Avaldur Grimrock, Governor of the Southern Mountain! I hereby welcome you to Vorberath, once the center of the greatest mines in all of Tenaria!”
The Librarian nodded and gestured for Avaldur to lead the way, this time holding onto the Opifex himself, commanding the Custodian to join the other in protecting Illithar and Erwin.
He noticed Vorberath’s eyes following the hammer and said, “It is indeed the Hammer of Thavrar but before you ask, I shall explain once we are in more appropriate quarters.”
Biting back his questions, Avaldur could only nod, his eyes lingering on the Opifex before he directed his gaze forward, leading the way to Vorberath. The Librarian and his party followed, soon entering the dwarven city. As expected, eyes followed them, specifically the Opifex which the Librarian held, word soon spreading throughout the entire city about the supposed return of the King Maker.
And among the hopeful eyes, there were sinister ones, ones which desired the Opifex for their own. However, they couldn’t make their move just yet, these outsiders were mysterious and potentially very dangerous. To act rashly was suicide, a lesson that every dwarf learned the day the last Dwarven King set out recklessly to help his allies, only to die and lose the Opifex.
So, the Librarian’s path was unobstructed and he reached the Governor’s residence without trouble, although he already began to use the shadows to his advantage, finding out information about those who sought to disturb the experiment. While he did not intend to do anything just yet, it wouldn’t hurt to know who it was that could become an irritation.
As he finished compiling information on these potential troublemakers, he returned his focus to the real world, taking a seat in Avaldur’s personal chambers. In here, which was protected with spells that canceled out sound, their conversations would be safe. He often used his chambers to conduct sensitive meetings, as it was the most protected as well, hidden deep within the bedrock which, while already difficult to mine, was further reinforced with magic.
Much of this, however, was before his time, during the early years of the Final Calendar when all of dwarf kind feared for their fate. They poured the entire effort into defense, waiting with apprehension for years for an attack that never came. In time, the dwarves slowly relaxed their guard, believing that their defenses were so formidable that no one could pierce through.
And while their defenses were indeed formidable, the reason as to why they had lived centuries in peace was simply because the orcs were ignorant of their whereabouts. The only contact that the orcs had with the dwarves was during the middle of their conquest when they were still busy driving the Alliance to the sea. The dwarves made a brief appearance but their King was slain so they just as quickly withdrew from the war and with the short lifespan of orcs, there were none alive today who knew of the dwarves.
Not even the Orc King himself knew much about the dwarves and even if he did, he still would’ve left them alone. Right now, the entirety of Occasus demanded his attention, something so obscure as the dwarves were not worthy of his attention.
While the dwarves may not accept such a fact, it was the truth, they had likely only survived this long because no one knew or cared enough about them to invade. Of course, if they were sieged, they would undoubtedly be able to hold off for a long period of time, but nothing in the world of mortals is absolute. They would’ve eventually fallen, their defenses like a boulder on the seashore, slowly eroded by wave after wave of orcs until it turns to dust.
And while their obscurity gave them peace and allowed them to live in relative happiness, not all was well. Because of the peace they knew for centuries, the military might of the dwarves had atrophied. Without the need to fight, they just sat within their great cities or mined ever deeper into the earth,
Of course, with the Dwarven Throne empty, there was no shortage of ambitious dwarves who sought to claim it, but each and every dwarf that stepped forth were all slain. None were able to unite the dwarves as the other clans viewed each other’s claims as invalid, each one wanted to rule and none would submit to the other. Because a ruler would never appear, the clans isolated themselves from one another, splitting up Tenaria into nine regions, each under the rule of nine clans.
However, the arrival of the Librarian and more specifically the Opifex will change all of this, whether for good or bad. This would ignite another civil war between the dwarves, all in order to gain the Opifex which would become the perfect excuse to claim the Throne. It was this desire that Illithar had to take advantage of, for the sake of the Alliance. She must decide which of the clans to give the Opifex in return for their aid.
However, even though she knew this goal and promised both herself and the Librarian that she would see it through, she found it hard to speak when faced with the dwarf in his chambers. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, and the dwarf made no effort to initiate a conversation, he was clearly waiting for her. But this knowledge only made her more nervous, a tense silence filling the air as she struggled to find the will to speak. It was then that she felt a hand on her shoulder, a cool sensation spreading throughout her body and calming her. It was, of course, the Librarian who soon withdrew his hand, gesturing for her to speak.
With a more calm mind, she took a deep breath and then looked straight at the dwarf, her eyes, while still a bit nervous, held sincerity.
“I am here to bargain.”