The Road, Dwarven kingdom of Hasandri
16th of Kielat, First month of Summer.
2290 years since the new gods came.
When all this is over, I need to have a talk with Bjorn about this non-interference thing of the gods. I'm just one guy. Six more days of travel before we reach Barakib. What other shenanigans will await us there?
17th of Kielat,
Tonight's rest spot had the remains of several wagons, and several graves. We are traveling with a couple three other wagons now. They wanted protection from the militias, and we are more than willing to provide it.
We scavenged the destroyed wagons, and then burned them. Sad. The pointless loss of life. I am getting more than a little irate.
20th of Kielat,
A section of the road had been blocked by a landslide. We managed to clear it. Two more days, thirty some miles, to Barakib.
21st of Kielat,
Tomorrow we will make it to Barakib. The roads, such as they are, are wider in this section, and well maintained. We actually met some of the local guards today. Nice people. Informed them that we cleared a landslide. They were grateful.
Barakib had a lockdown after the troubles started. The mayor is more secular than religious, and put the guard to good use. This may be more pleasant than Newleigh.
22nd of Kielat,
Barakib. A delightful city of 11,000 souls. There are some non-dwarves in the city. I have been invited into the Mine proper tomorrow. I should probably explain...
The Dwarven mine is a combination city/mine/living quarters for the population. Wood is scarce in the mountains, so it is used as decoration as opposed to furniture/fire etc. The city runs on coal for heat, by way of steam pipes. They were the first to have running water that didn't require magic. The entire place is regulated to a temp of 15-20 degrees, a comfortable temp. The occasional combustible gas cavern is quickly sealed and tapped for the use in lighting. It is very ingenious, if you ask me.
Dwarves are an insular people. Not exactly speciesist, but close, it is mainly due to a lack of exposure to the outside world. The average Dwarf doesn't usually travel much, if any, as almost everything they need in in the mine, or a short distance above ground. Some mines have shafts that lead to nearby mines, but that is the exception, not the rule. Those that dwell mostly on the surface for food production, or who trade with the rest of the world, are almost as respected as the deep miners, or master crafters of the community.
Deep miners are a breed apart. They delve into the bowels of the mountain and explore for new places, seams, and other things. Dangerous work.
I have arranged a meeting with the Mine Master aka Mayor in the morning.
23rd of Kielat,
The meeting was not eventful. The Mine has been in a state of lock-down since the troubles started. The church has had only minor objections. Things seem to be calm so far. I wonder how things really are.
Tomorrow I visit the cathedral. I hope Bjorn appreciates all this.
24th of Kielat,
Bad day. Assassins. Thugs. Unresponsive clergy.
Coup.
- - -
The knife through the heart didn't wake Max up, and he awoke with blood covering his bed. Looking around, he found bloody footprints on the floor and followed them, but they disappeared halfway down the hall of the inn. He shook his head and reported the need of cleaning at the front desk, cleaned himself up in the inn's private bath and headed out for the day.
No sun shown in the immense cavern of the mine, but the gas lamps had been turned all the way up. He stopped at a morning vendor and got a 'pulled pork' sandwich for breakfast. Several block of walking later, he arrived at the modest cathedral that had been carved from the actual stone of the mine (as opposed to being built of blocks). In his opinion it was rather plain, all things considered. He entered the courtyard and looked around. The holy forges were as busy as usual, and no one paid him much mind.
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As he crossed the area, he saw a plinth that had had it's statue destroyed. When he asked about it, all he got was “the undeserving were removed.” as an answer.
When he made himself known at the front desk, he was hustled to a small waiting room, and was soon taken to the bishop.
Max looked at the old, round shouldered dwarf, “Master Bishop, I have come to see how things are here in Barakib.”
“Everything is fine here, heretic.”
“I am happy to hear that.” Max smiled. “I assume then, that I don't have to give my speech about just being a cursed man who has fallen in with some odd company?”
“Such deception is not needed here for my flock.” The bishop said. “We all know who and what you are. A twisted pile of flesh, masquerading as a man, even able to somehow twist the mind of our god. If it were within my power, I would rid the world of you myself.”
“That was not at all what I was expecting.” Max said, raising both his eyebrows. “I don't suppose there is any way to prove otherwise?”
The bishop laughed, “Prove otherwise? Meh. You are a cursed demon spawn who aspires to godhood! There is no test that you could fail! Therefore, we rebuke you in the name of Bjorn, and all the other Gods!” The Bishop hurled a ball of holy water at Max. It splashed across Max's face, and ran down the front of his clothes. Nothing else happened.
“Gods curse you, Demon of the Abyss! Get the behind me!” The bishop threw another ball of holy water. Again it splashed across Max's face, and ran down his shirt.
Max just shook his head, “You know, if I had realized I would be getting a bath here, I wouldn't have bathed at my Inn this morning.”
The bishop began to froth at the mouth, “GET THEE OUT YOU BASE CREATURE OF THE DEEP! BE THEE GONE FROM THIS PLACE!” He began to shake. Then his eyes bulged, and the color slowly drained from his face. He fell off his chair with a crash, and lay still.
“Shit.” Max stared at the dead dwarf, “HELP! The bishop has fallen!”
Moments later the room was filled with lay preachers and guards. Max was shoved to the side, and eventually escorted from the cathedral.
*-*-*
Demon lands
The demon Lord lay on his throne, back laying on the seat, legs extended up the thrones back. “How goes our little civil war?”
“My Lord, the Heretic has only caused a small amount of disturbance so far. Newleigh is a loss. Our agent there fled as soon as the Heretic raised his head in the 'Devils Night' assault.” Vtev said. “Where did you get the name “Devils Night'?”
“Oh, there was a publication I found when I was searching through one of the losers castles. The 'Detret Time' I believe it was called.” The demon lord replied. “It looked like fun, fire and explosions everywhere. There was also a picture of a raven...”
“Humans. As if the real world wasn't scary enough, they have to make things up.”
“Yes. A truly deplorable species.” The demon lord rolled off his throne, landing in a standing position facing Vtev. “It will be good to finally get rid of them. Did you know their original god abandoned them? Something about them being unfit for service?”
“I did not. No wonder they submit to all those weak gods.” Vtev answered.
“Back to the war, where is the Heretic now?”
“He is causing our agents some trouble in Barakib. He survived the assassin's knife. Earlier this week he had his fairy slave throw a group of our militia off some cliffs.” Vtev replied. “Now he seems to have driven the Bishop of Barakib to having a heart attack. Our informant in the church has made the attack deadly.”
“Good, good.” The Demon Lord smiled. “What faction will be assuming the bishops post?”
“I am unsure. Our agent said he was trying to nudge them towards another member of the Anti-Heretic faction, but while plentiful, they don't have enough high members to be able to truly assume control.”
“Unfortunate.”
“Yes my lord.” Vtev cocked his head to one side listening to something, then smiled. “News has just been relayed, the Anti-Heretic faction has started a Coup! They are 'cleansing' the cathedral of all non Anti-Heretic individuals.”
The Demon Lord smiled. “This is getting better and better.”
*-*-*
Maxwell had been walking for under an hour when he felt an uncomfortable 'cramp' like sensation in his head. He glanced around, and when his eyes fell on the tallest cathedral tower, it went away. He looked left, and the 'cramp' returned. “I get it. I get it.” He mumbled, setting off for the cathedral at a dead run.
It took him less time than he thought it should, and he arrived at the now closed and barred gates in what would have been a record time, if anyone had noticed. He pounded on the gate several times with his fist, before drawing his sword. He stabbed the gate through the only crack he could find in the wood, twisted the blade a few degrees, and cut himself a doorway. As the chunk of gate fell inward with a small push Max saw blood.
The main courtyard was awash in blood. Blood on the ground. Blood on the walls. Blood on the benches. Blood on the gate. As Max took a breath, the iron and copper smell of dwarven blood hung thick in the air.
He could hear the sound of battle emanating from from all around. He chose a direction at random, and charged. A path to the right. A door he cut through. A short flight of stairs. Another door, chopped open. The barracks.
There were bodies everywhere. Dwarves in disheveled uniforms were facing off against each other, one side outnumbered three to one. Max leaned against the door frame in which he stood, and called out, “What in the hells do you thing you're doing?!?”
The fighting stopped, as all of the combatants looked over to him. The larger group with rage in their eyes, the smaller group with hope. “KILL THE HERETIC!” Someone yelled and a third of the large group broke off, and charged.
Maxwell parried and thrust like a madman, and still took what would have been deadly wounds for anyone else. He mentally cursed himself for his lack of proper maintenance training, and swore to get back to it soon. When the pile of bodies at his feet grew to half the number of his original attackers, he stepped back. “ENOUGH!” He dropped his sword point down, and the tip sank several inches into the stone floor. He cupped his hands together in front on him, quietly said a few words, then flung his arms apart. The semicircle of opponents didn't even have time to scream as the white flame of his magic burned through them.
The barracks went deathly still. “I am sick of this needless bloodshed!” He looked daggers at all of the dwarves. “What is wrong with you?”
The two sides looked at each other, then back at Max. “Murder?” Max took a step forward. “In These holy halls?” A second step forward. “Are you stupid?” Another step forward. “Are you stupid?” Another step. “Are you Demons?” Another step. “Are you trying to desecrate Everything Bjorn stands for?” Another step. “I ask again, What in the Abyss is going on?!?”
TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!