#garin goldseeker

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None Can Break- Part Eleven

Summary: Selene has been called to the Archlector's personal apartment to meet with King Storri, the Archlector and Librarian Haneskeeper to discuss what aid, if any, Fangthane might be willing to give the beleaguered Grand Magus.

Words: 2,422

Warnings: None. Just some very frayed tempers on both sides.

Notes: This is the bit I've been most looking forward to getting to. I must admit, I didn't expect this to go in the direction it did, but I think it works out way better than the first draft now.

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @sparrow-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe

Selene whooshed out a sigh as she made her way through the Cathedral to the Archlector's personal apartment. It had finally been decided that the Cathedral was the most neutral place for this smaller and more intimate meeting, and the Archlector's apartment was the most comfortable place for the dignitaries that would be attending. The wizard was grateful that His Holiness had insisted on the location, her most recent experience of the palace had been less than pleasant, but she was still not looking forward to this.

The Moradhir paladin that was accompanying Selene through the Cathedral looked back at the human wizard and sent her an encouraging smile,

"It's not often that anyone gets to see His Holiness' personal apartment. He must like you if he's invited you there." He said. Selene flicked her eyes to the floor briefly and shook her head,

"While I am incredibly grateful to hear such, I am uncertain as to why." She admitted, returning her gaze to the armoured dwarf walking in front of her, "As I understand it, most of your people are less than happy with those of us who chose to stay in Toreguarde following Drakemar's involvement in its reconstruction." The paladin shrugged, his pauldrons clanking at the motion,

"His Holiness was chosen as Archlector fer a reason, my lady." He pointed out, "Those of us who serve Moradin, or any of the other Gods worshipped in the mount, trust his judgement." 

Selene's heart lifted at the statement. While she had never met the man before, he had clearly believed her words to be important enough to cow the rest of the mountain into listening to her. Certainly, it seemed that the Archlector's words had been enough to convince king Storri to allow her to stay. Feeling better, Selene allowed herself a small smile. Maybe there was a chance for her to swiftly solve the problem of the Seal after all.

"Right, here we are." The paladin announced, "I'll be right outside just in case. There shouldn't be any more nasty surprises like there were with the Council." He added, stepping to one side after rapping out a code on the elaborately carved door. Selene inclined her head,

"Thank you, Ser Stonebreaker." She said, "Hopefully this will not take long, and I can be out of your collective hair shortly. I don't want to be responsible for bringing any more trouble, or grief, to your people." Stonebreaker shook his head,

"We'd be dealing with it whether you were visiting or no." He pointed out, "Good luck." He added as an attendant opened the door. Selene nodded to the paladin once more before following the beardling inside.

King Storri, the Archlector and Haneskeeper were already inside, all three sat on comfortable chairs around a large marble table. Another beardling –with wavy blonde hair and dressed in a smart, richly embroidered tunic – sat in a wingback chair next to a generously sized bookcase, his nose currently buried in a book. So His Majesty had brought Prince Garin with him, this was, hopefully, a good sign. The room was, helpfully, lit by a myriad of glowstones artfully, and unobtrusively, placed around the room, allowing Selene to see the various mosaics laid into the floor and the tapestries adorning the walls. Most were, understandably, related to Moradin, though a few seemed to depict old clan crests. Presumably the clans of Archlectors in centuries and ages past.

The attendant coughed politely,

"Presenting Grand Magus Frigidwake, as requested, Yer Holiness." She said, "Was there anything else you or your guests needed?" She asked, allowing Selene to step into the room. The Archlector's cragged face split into a gracious smile,

"Some more refreshments would be appreciated, if ye don't mind fetching them Dora." He requested, "We may be here for a while." Dora curtsied and quickly scurried off. Storri scoffed as Selene came to the table and took the seat next to Haneskeeper,

"I rather hope it doesn't." He said shortly, "I mean no disparagement on yer hospitality, Yer Grace, but I do have other matters to attend to." Selene's gaze flicked from king to Archlector, suddenly reminded that king Storri was still very young by the standards of dwarves. Archlector Vanskleig merely shrugged, shifting into a more comfortable position,

"I do understand, Your Majesty, however, this is a matter that  I believe, requires all the time we can give it." He said pleasantly. The elderly dwarf turned his attention to Selene, grey eyes meeting green. Selene felt a shiver run down her spine. While the Archlector's gaze was pleasant, almost grandfatherly, she could sense the centuries of wisdom and power the ancient dwarf held despite his frail frame. It reminded her very much of Yastromo.

"I have asked High Librarian Haneskeeper to see what information he could find regarding God Clay and its potential whereabouts with all the archives we hold here in Fangthane." The Archlector said, gesturing to the old, but not yet ancient, dwarf. Haneskeeper cleared his throat,

"Aye, I scoured every last shelf of the Library and the Cathedral's archives for ye." He said. Selene smiled at him,

"Thank you for being so thorough. Any information, no matter how scant, will be invaluable." Haneskeeper shifted uncomfortably,

"Aye, well, unfortunately, I regret to inform you that Fangthane doesn't hold any God Clay that might yet remain on the Material Plane." He said. Selene's smile fell a bit, but she shook her head,

"I suppose it would have been far too convenient if it were." She sighed, "Did your research turn up any possible locations?" She asked. The silence that met it was almost deafening in itself. The hopeful expression on Selene's face dropped entirely as an icy stillness descended on the room. Haneskeeper cleared his throat,

"It did." he confirmed slowly, his eyes flicking to king Storri, whose expression remained neutral, but his body language belied the silent rage building within him. Selene looked between the two men, briefly glancing over to note that prince Garin was sitting utterly still. She slowly leaned forward,

"And..?" She asked, her stomach dropping as the bubble of hope she'd started to feel earlier burst. Haneskeeper whooshed out a sigh,

"The God Clay's last known location was within the God Vault of the Redhammer Clan." He replied, "As their lineage was known to have been Blessed with the ability to Shape the stuff, it makes sense that this would be where the God Clay is currently located." He explained. Selene frowned,

"That makes sense, what little information I was able to glean from my own research made mention of this Blessing." She admitted. Her eyes narrowed, "So do you mind telling me why His Majesty looks like he's about to throttle me?" She asked lightly, looking over to Storri, who was now clearly biting back a tirade of some sort. Haneskeeper sent the younger dwarf a short glare before returning his attention to Selene, a haggard expression on his face,

"Putting aside some ancient dwarven Grudges, the ancestral home of the Redhammer clan used to be known as Kar'ak Ungor and was located in a volcano near the northwestern coast of Allansia, just off the Bay of Corpses in the area now known as the Dragon Reaches." He explained. Selene's annoyed expression settled into a frown as she mentally mapped out the area. Her heart froze as she finally realised what the old librarian was telling her,

"Wyrmholme." She murmured, horrified. The moment she had uttered the word, the damn holding Storri back finally broke,

"Aye. That ancient artefact that's sacred to our people is in the claws of the dragon ye sold yer bloody city to!" He snapped, "Tell me, Grand Magus, why is that knowledge suddenly so damn problematic?" He asked. Selene blinked herself back into the room and frowned at the enraged dwarven king. She shook her head,

"It's a problem because I know that, while House Drakemar provided the capital that allowed us to rebuild Toreguarde into what it is today, I don't believe that it has the best interests of the people at heart." She replied, "I am fully aware, too, of the general hostility that the relationship with Drakemar has caused between us." She added. Storri leapt to his feet, slamming his hands on the table and knocking his seat over,

"Then why ignore the advice given ye when that damned Emissary turned up?” he asked, with an angry growl, “We didna send ye 30,000 souls to fight off the damn demons you let into the world just so ye could turn around and work with that damned beast!” he shouted. Selene immediately sat upright, her knuckles white as she tried to reign in her own, dangerously flaring, temper. She sucked in a breath before replying in as even a tone as she could manage,

“First thing, Your Majesty, the decision to send so many people to help fight off the Demonic Horde was not ours to make. The blame for such lies squarely on the shoulders of King Nargond, gods rest his soul.” She stated, earning her a nasty glare from the young king.

“As for the matter of accepting the aid offered by the Emissary; what else would you have had us do? We had barely managed to build the bare bones of the old town, never mind enough houses for everyone that had been displaced by the time any money we had had run out. Besides, my own objections about Drakemar's continued involvement were thoroughly overruled by the time the Edict came into effect." Storri scoffed,

“Then why stay in the Dragon’s employ, love?” he snapped, “Ye had ample opportunity to leave alongside plenty others!” The shadows cast by the glowstones lengthened as Selene flushed, scowled at the king and stood, towering over the dwarves sitting around the table,

“Had I left, Your Majesty, the Sealed Hellmouth that lies beneath my tower would have been breached long before now and your mountain overrun by demons." She growled, "You would ask me to place the lives of over a hundred thousand souls spread over the entirety of the Pagan Plains at risk? You would ask me to abandon the people I was tasked to protect by Yastromo himself, all so you can feel all better about even deigning to talk to me?!" 

Haneskeeper yelped as a gust of icy wind blew around the room, knocking over some of the small knick knacks scattered around the room. Prince Garin huddled into his chair as much as he could, protectively holding the book he'd been reading to his chest. Archlector Vandkleig merely raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, unruffled by the emotionally charged magic that was building within his personal chambers. The elderly dwarf muttered a prayer and Dispelled it,

"I think we're rather letting our tempers get away from us." He said mildly, "Let us return to the matter at hand, shall we?" He suggested. He looked over to Selene, who bowed her head, chastened,

"Yes, Your Holiness, I apologise." She murmured, sitting down once more. Storri snorted, but also sat once more. Haneskeeper cautiously looked between his king and the Grand Magus,

"Getting back to our discussion, I'm sorry that we can't be much help to you with regards to the God Clay, hen." He said, "That's something ye'll need to take up with yer Emissary." Selene shook her head,

"I suppose I have no other choice." She sighed, "However, from my understanding, that only solves half my problem." She said, turning her attention back to the Archlector, ignoring Storri entirely as he made a grumble of protest. The Archlector stroked his beard,

"Ah, you did say your research mentioned Shapers. I can only surmise that you've worked out that you require one to use the God Clay." He said. Selene nodded,

"Yes, Your Holiness. I had kept the question of enquiring about this after learning what I could about the God Clay first. I really do not wish to ask any more of you-" 

"Then don't." Storri snapped suddenly, "We can't help you." Selene frowned, turning to face the still outraged king. Was he not aware of Meredith's talents? She glanced to the Archlector, who was gazing at his king with an exasperated expression.

"While I understand your reticence Your Majesty-" she began, only to be cut off once more,

"I just said we can't help ye! What are ye not understanding?" Selene inhaled deeply. While she did not personally pay direct homage to any god in particular, she found herself asking for the patience to deal with the frustrating dwarf in front of her from any that happened to be listening in. So long as it wasn't Him.

"Your Majesty, what I do understand is why you are reluctant to allow me to request the help of one of your youngest citizens. Unfortunately, given the nature of the situation, I really do not have any other recourse." She pleaded. All three dwarves stared at the wizard. Haneskeeper frowned,

"Now how did ye-?" He started as Selene quickly held up her hands as Storri's expression grew thunderous,

"I've been staying at the Hammer and Anvil. I was speaking with Gruk about the situation and he told me about his youngest daughter." She explained, as quickly as she could manage. "I don't want to drag anyone else into this but-" 

"No."

Selene stared at Storri, desperation writ plain over her face,

"Your Majesty. Please-" she began. Storri's nostrils flared as he lifted his chin,

"We've given ye what ye came here for." The king stated evenly, his voice colder than the winter winds that lashed against the mountain, "I will not permit ye to take anyone back to that godsforsaken place, least of all a woman as young and impressionable as Miss Ironforge." He looked to Haneskeeper, then bowed deeply to the Archlector as he rose once more,

"Since the matter's been settled, I'll see myself out. Grand Magus, I'll give ye one more day to pack yer things then I want you out of this mountain never to darken its doors again. Am I clear?" He didn't bother waiting for an answer, simply gesturing for Garin to follow him out as he walked away. Selene could only stare, dumbfounded as the king of Fangthane left the room, almost barging into the Archlector's attendant, who had just returned with a large trolley filled with food and beverages. Garin, bowed and muttered an apology before following his father out of the door.

[druidx]

Storri Nargondsson, Clan Goldseeker, King of Fangthane

His Majesty the Gilded, King Storri Nargondsson, Lord-High Commander of Fangthane, Archduke of Stonebridge, Denheb Iben of Moradin, Diamond of Throff, and Low King of Dwarves in all His Realms and Territories is, by his position, a very serious man.

As is expected of his station he's fluent in the major languages of the continent, with middling fluency in a few others. He is excellent at bookkeeping and logistics, with some success in strategising and a moderate understanding of higher theological philosophy and ritual.

Storri came to his position unfortunately very young, at an equivalent maturity of about 20 years to a human, when his father, Nargond, perished in the Demon Wars of Allansia.

As such, not only was his coronation rushed through, but so was his previously arranged marriage to Kalasia Theoardottir, clan Bloodvein. A few years later the pair became parents to twins, Garni and Garin. Alas, Kalasia fought the ultimate battle expected of a shield maiden, and perished in childbirth.

Now a single father in addition to ruling alone, Storri became more dour than ever, plagued with the stress of his position which his extended family and the royal court sought to mitigate, with limited success.

Matters came to a head during the rebuilding of Toreguard, a former ally, when, in a rare display, Storri's temper flared at a major disagreement. The King marched home, sealing the great gates of the mountain behind him, and never to be opened again.

It wasn't until a decade later that a non-Fangthanian citizen was "permitted" to enter, one Alexis Dalliance¹, who was thence employed by the Crown to retrieve the greatest hero of the century, Ivan 'the Hammer' Jägerson, from the outer planes. Once Jägerson returned, rumors around that time sprang up that the King was having some kind of affair with Dalliance²; the change in Storri's attitude shifted considerably - first for the better and then for the worst. Things became more dire when Storri was stuck down and entered some kind of magical coma³, during which Princess Garni became Queen. Once Storri regained consciousness, she stepped down to allow her father to complete his rule.

Thereafter, Storri was plagued by nightmares of his time in the coma, making the whole mountain tense as his normally stoic nature waxed and waned on a coin flip. This was made worse with new rumours of a Church schism and the scene caused by one Meredith Gruksdottir, clan Ironforge...

(I'm going to stop here because I'm skewing so off-topic, and I don't really think I need to cover the events of the Destiny's New Servant's Campaign from his POV. Also, Aquadestiny might be the better one to write that...)

---

And, because of course I had to, here he is per the modern AU:

(I wanted to give him some kind of royal sash, but I couldn't find anything that looked appropriate, so this will have to do. Modern AU Storri is has had a significantly better time than Vanilla Setting Storri, hence the fact he can smile easier.)

----

¹ This is basically the plot of Her Lonely Shadow.

² They were not, but they could've if Alexis hadn't 1. had a crisis of conscience, and 2. been going to fulfill her god's orders.

³ He died, his soul was dragged to the Pit, and Alexis used a Wish spell to send him back and make him forget their feelings for each other.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None Can Break- Part Ten

Summary: King Storri has an intimate meeting with Ragnarsson, Head Librarian Haneskeeper and the Archlector, along with both of his children. In the meantime, Gruk finally admits that his youngest daughter might be the only person in the mountain that can help the Grand Magus in her quest.

Words: 3,423 a little longer than usual, but it's necessary.

Warnings: None

Notes: So who wants to know more about Fangthane's sordid history? This was such a fun chapter to write, but by all the gods, Selene can be so dense sometimes.

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe

Despite an extensive search, the caster of the Fireball thrown into the middle of the council chamber was not found. While Captain Bloodvein had been annoyed that his guard for the Grand Magus had left the woman unattended, if only briefly, he had acknowledged the necessity. Thankfully, no one had been seriously hurt in the attempted assisination, but it was very clear to everyone involved that the target had been the Grand Magus herself, rather than the king or any of the Fangthane council members.

KIng Storri paced around his office, hands held firmly behind his back while Head Librarian Haneskeeper, the High Priest of Moradin and the Archlector watched from their seats. Prince Garin, stood awkwardly in the corner, eyeing his father warily, while his twin sister, Crown Princess Garni, poured out some much needed sweet tea.

“Come now, Father, you’ll wear yourself out with all that pacing, sit down and have some tea.” Garni said. Storri huffed a sigh and looked over to his daughter with a wane smile,

“My apologies Garni, I’ll sit down in a minute. Still too frazzled by what happened.” 

“Aye, we’re all a wee bit frazzled, Your Majesty, but the princess is right; ye’ll feel better once you’ve had something to drink.” Ragnarsson said. Storri huffed an irritated sigh, stopped pacing and grudgingly sat down and picked up the teacup. He took a small sip of the drink, then placed it back on the table. He sat back and ran a hand down his face,

“So, what are we gonna do about this?” he asked, “We all know the Grand Magus is like to want to leave much sooner now there’s been a public attempt on her life. Not that I’ll complain if she leaves early, mind, but I’m worried that we still don’t have any clue as to who did it.” 

“If I may, father, Captain Bloodvein is of the opinion that it was probably a member of the Cabal. He said something about the stink of dark, arcane magic.” Garin said. Storri lifted his head and looked at his son out of the corner of his eye,

“If that’s the case, then there’ll probably be more attempts.” he grumbled, “Any suggestions on how we handle things?” he asked the rest of the group. Haneskeeper shook his head, as did Ragnarsson. The Archlector, however, ran his fingers through his beard, his expression thoughtful,

“If this individual is the type to keep hanging around, then may I suggest a smaller meeting with the Grand Magus in a more secure part of either the palace or the Cathedral?” He said, “A second, very public, convening of the Council is likely to give the miscreant the opportunity to cause quite a lot of collateral damage should they make another attempt on the good Grand Magus’ life.”

All three other men stroked their beards thoughtfully. Garni scoffed,

“Forgive me, Yer Eminence, but if this individual is going to keep making attempts on the Grand Magus’ life, then surely it is in the best interest of the people of Fangthane for the Grand Magus to be given copies of whatever information it is she seeks and then sent on her way?” she asked. She ignored the warning glare her father sent her way and continued looking directly at the Archlector. The elderly dwarf gave the princess a warm smile,

“While I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, I believe that the Grand Magus has every right to know everything she needs to in order to prevent catastrophe befalling us all.” The Archlector looked over to Ragnarsson, “After all, it is not just the possible location of the God Clay that she requires.” he added, voice low. 

Storri frowned in confusion as he looked between the Archlector and Moradin’s High Priest. The latter was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. A few long moments later, Ragnarsson huffed a stressed sigh with a shake of his head,

“As much as I would rather we didn’t have to share that particular bit o’ knowledge, if using the God Clay is the only way to stop that hellmouth from being prised back open again, I suppose we have no other choice.”  he grumbled. Storri’s frown deepened,

“What d’ye mean ‘that particular bit of knowledge’?” he asked lightly, “If the Church has something to share, then I would very much like to hear about it.” Haneskeeper frowned, running his fingers through his greying, brown beard. Slowly his movements slowed and his eyes widened,

“Wait, ye canna possibly mean..?” he asked, trailing off as Ragnarsson glanced over to him and nodded, before returning his attention back to his increasingly irate king,

“I believe High Librarian Heimlig and High Inquisitor Firetome have previously explained that the Grand Magus did not only need access to the God Clay, but a Shaper as well?” he asked. Storri nodded, his face twisting into an unhappy grimace,

“Aye, that they did, though neither elaborated on that particular point.” he said, “They didn’t seem to think that we could provide one. Though, to be honest, I was more concerned about the God Clay itself at the time. Perhaps I should have asked them more about it.” he added with a shake of his head. Ragnarsson glanced over to Haneskeeper, who was staring, open-mouthed at the other man, disbelief writ plain over his weathered features. Haneskeeper shook his head and turned his attention to the king,

“A Shaper, Your Majesty, is an individual who has been Blessed by Kherillim with the ability to use and… well, shape, God Clay.” the old librarian explained, “It’s an ancient ability that was only ever found in one family line, passed down directly from one generation to the next. However, the line became extinct several centuries ago, during the War of the Red Hammer. There shouldn’t be a Shaper for the Grand Magus to use.” Storri frowned as he considered the information. Garni tapped her chin thoughtfully,

“Oh, wasn’t that the war that started because some cousins all the way over on the western coast of Allansia turned their worship to Ladeurger and were all turned into Duregar by Moradin as punishment?” she asked, “I remember reading a bit about it not long ago. Apparently there was a line that was once Blessed by Kherillim that fell from Her grace and were punished along with all the other heretics in the Purges that came in the war’s aftermath.” Haneskeeper nodded and smiled at the girl,

“I see ye’ve been keeping up with yer lessons, Your Highness.” he noted proudly. He turned his attention back to the other men in the room, “By all historical accounts, the Blessing in question should not currently exist.” 

Now that Garni had mentioned it, Storri did recall having to learn about the war of the Red Hammer in his own youth, along with the history of the Purges when he asked why so many clans were no longer talked, or written, about afterwards. He looked over to Ragnarsson and the Archlector, confused,

“So ye’re saying that Fangthane’s Church of Moradin has a Shaper, despite the fact that it should be an extinct ability?” he asked. Ragnarsson nodded,

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Your Majesty." The older man confirmed, "We've been keepin' it quiet because it's something that a lot of people with ill intentions will be very interested in." 

"Given that the girl exists at this particular time, however, is not a coincidence." The Archlector stated, "The Grand Magus has already all but stated outright that the God Clay is the only way to permanently seal the portal to the Pit that currently rests beneath her tower. While we do not have any of the God Clay here, we do have someone who can use it."

Storri stroked his moustache as the two clerics spoke. He was not happy to hear that such information had been kept from the Royal Family, though he understood Ragnarsson's reasoning. 

"You said girl," Storri said slowly, staring at the fireplace behind and between Ragnarsson and the Archlector, "how old?" He asked, already dreading the answer. Ragnarsson sighed,

"Not long reached age of majority, Your Majesty. We had her fully ordained as a cleric almost a year ago, on the Archlector's suggestion, rather than waiting 'til the next Throff's Day." 

Storri frowned, staring into the fire. While said girl was technically a woman, she was still so young… The king shook his head,

"Very well, we might as well convene a small meeting with only a few, senior members of the Council." He said. He turned his attention to Garin, who came to his father's side almost immediately, "Garin, please have a message sent to the Grand Magus informing her that there will be a meeting, arranged at our earliest convenience, to discuss any aid that we might be able to render." He said. Garin nodded, bowed, and quickly left the room. Garni cocked her head, her brow furrowing in consternation,

"Father, you cannot mean to –" she was quickly cut off by her father's stern glance,

"Nothing has yet been decided." He stated shortly, "The meeting is merely to go over the options available." 

The Archlector gave the affronted princess a soft smile, leaning forward,

"I realise that you worry for the young lady in question, Your Highness, and I am glad that you do. However, should it be Moradin's will that she go to Toreguarde to right the wrong that has been done to the world, then she, and we, must abide by it." He reminded her, glancing briefly over to Storri. Garni nodded, sitting back in her seat, chastened,

"Aye Yer Holiness." She said quietly. Storri bowed his head; he knew very well that to defy the Gods was folly. However, a small part of him still bristled. Fangthane couldn't afford to lose more people, especially the youngest of them. If the girl had a talent that was believed to have been extinct for centuries, then surely the Crown and Church had a duty to ensure her safety above all else?

Haneskeeper was the first to leave, muttering about needing to check the records held in his library. Garni, recognising her father was in a maudlin mood when Storri barely acknowledged the elderly dwarf, was quick to take responsibility for seeing her family's guests out the door.

Ragnarsson shook his head as he escorted the Archlector to their carriage,

"Do you think His Royal Nibs is going to let the lassie go with our wizard friend?" He asked, the two of them settling into their seats as the carriage rocked into motion. The Archlector leaned his head back, looking out the window at the palace,

"If not, then he will be in for a very rude awakening once Moradin deigns to take matters into His own hands." The ancient dwarf replied wearily. "For now, my friend, all we can do is wait." 

~*~

Selene tickled Chrackle under his beak and handed him a piece of the meat on her plate,

“Now, don’t go begging everyone else for some.” she warned, “You’ve had plenty.” Chrackle said nothing, either aloud or mentally, but he did send his wizard a short glare before flying back up into the rafters of the main barroom of the Hammer and Anvil. The pub was quiet, mostly because Snorri had only allowed his family and closest friends inside. It wasn’t that Selene wasn’t grateful, but she did worry that the landlord was going so far out of his way to help her,

“You don’t have to keep closing your establishment on my account, Snorri.” she said when the landlord returned to the table with another round of drinks, “I would have been perfectly happy to have stayed in my room.” she added. Snorri shook his head vehemently,

“I’ll no’ have a bunch of folk botherin’ ye with silly questions or comments, hen.” he replied. “Besides, it’s easier for yer security to keep an eye on ye with fewer folk around.” he added, nodding to the small group of kingsguard that were sitting at a nearby table, currently thoroughly enjoying Snorri’s hospitality. Edwin sighed,

“He’s got a point, Sel, I do feel a lot happier knowing everyone that’s in here is someone I know. I know the Crown has officially stated that the assassin that tried to kill you earlier was probably from the Cabal, but I’m not entirely convinced of that fact.” Selene frowned, turning her attention to her fellow human,

“What on Titan makes you say that, Edwin?” she asked, utterly perplexed, “I know there are plenty of dwarves here that have legitimate grievances against my presence, but I doubt any of them would have been stupid enough to have flung a Fireball at me while the Archlector and the King were present.” Edwin grimaced and said nothing, taking a gulp of the stout Snorri had handed to him instead. Gruk spoke up in the cleric’s stead,

“I wouldn’t be so sure, lass,” he sighed. “there was an incident involving a traveller who was passing through not that long ago. Since they’d come from Toreguarde’s way, they got a lot of grief themselves and had some attempts on their life, though the perpetrators were never caught. Most o’ the regulars here suspect that some of the most disgruntled folk in the mountain were responsible, if not directly, then they at least allowed outsiders entry into the mount to do their dirty work for them.” Selene grumbled and took a swig of her own drink,

“I suppose it doesn’t actually matter who it was, in the end. I made a lot of enemies in my time and I haven’t exactly been able to go and deal with them personally. I have a much more immediate problem to deal with anyway.” she said, drumming her fingers on the table and gesturing to the heavy, leatherbound book on the table next to her plate. Snorri blinked, noticing the ever so slight twitch in one of the Abouna’s eyebrows, but decided that, for the moment, it was best to keep his mouth shut. He looked back over to Selene as she started speaking once more,

“I asked Auld Derek if there was anything that he knew of that could help me locate some more information on the God Clay, or about Shapers, but this was the only thing he could find in the library. Apparently if I want something actually useful, I need to ask the Cathedral for access to their archives.” 

Gruk’s head snapped up,

“What was that, hen? Something about Shapers?”

All eyes turned to Gruk as Selene shrugged,

“Yes, the book Egrim let me see from his own collection, made mention that in order for the God Clay to be used, I’d need a Shaper.” she explained, “I figured it would be easier to ask about the God Clay first, then enquire about how to find a Shaper.” Her face pinched into a confused frown as Gruk slowly looked down at the table and shifted uncomfortably. Edwin laid a hand on the smith’s shoulder,

“Something on your mind Gruk?” he asked. Gruk’s worried frown lifted a little as he looked back up at the pair of concerned humans,

“Apologies, was just thinking about something Ragnarsson said a good while back.” he muttered, “It’s probably nothin’, but he did mention something about God Clay and Shapers when we were getting Merri enrolled as an Acolyte way back when.” Now it was Edwin’s turn to frown in confusion, while Selene leaned forward excitedly,

“Do you remember what he said?” she asked, “I only ask because this will give me a lead on who to talk to about it if the Council refuses to answer my questions at the next meeting.” 

Edwin watched Gruk’s expression; the man was clearly having some sort of internal debate about the subject, and Edwin wondered why the smith was suddenly being so cagey. Gruk was usually a very forthright individual, not one to bother with secrecy. Unless…?

Gruk fidgeted as he considered how to answer Selene’s question,

“Well, I do remember him saying that there were a couple of artefacts kept in the vault that were made of God Clay.” he said slowly, “I don’t recall him ever saying anything about the church having any that wasn’t already used to make things.” Snorri cocked his head in confusion,

“Why would he even mention the stuff to you?” he asked, “The only cleric we’ve got in the family is Merri! And ye just said ye were there to enrol her as an acolyte.” The ex-slayer took a breath to carry on with his interrogation, but was stopped by Edwin holding up at hand. The Abouna squeezed Gruk’s shoulder,

“You don’t have to answer, Gruk, but Snorri makes an excellent point.” he said slowly, “The High Priest of Moradin wouldn’t tell you something like that if it wasn’t relevant.” he added. 

Gruk tried not to let his panic show, but he was having a hard time doing so. He should have just kept his big mouth shut. He truly didn’t know much more than what Ragnarsson had told him, but if he told them everything then they’d want his wee baby girl to leave and help solve their problem immediately. He couldn’t let that happen, she was too young and inexperienced in the ways of the wider world. Another part of him railed against the instinct, reminding him that his youngest daughter was now a grown woman, and she was clearly aching to get out there and help. Who was he to stop her if she wanted to go? While he was no cleric, Gruk knew enough to know that to deny a Call was to defy the very God that his daughter now worked for. He heaved a sigh and looked between Edwin and Selene for a moment before hanging his head,

“It was relevant.” he said, voice low, “Merri found a bowl made of God Clay when she was just a wee bairn. She had gotten some of the claydust on her hands and found she could make things with it. By the time Ragnarsson and I found her, she’d already made a wee mouse companion for herself that was running around her feet.” He explained, “I knew it meant something, but I wasn’t told any details until I went to get the paperwork to enrol her as an acolyte a decade later.” Gruk looked back up, his expression haggard as he looked over to Selene,

“I’ve no idea if we’ve even got any God Clay in the mount, hen, but ye said it yourself; it’s no use to ye if ye don’t have someone that can use it.” 

“And your daughter is probably the only one that anyone knows of that can.” Selene surmised, grimacing at the defeated expression on the smith’s face. She reached over and laid a hand on top of his, “If there was any other way for me to deal with this, I’d jump all over it.” she said apologetically, “The last thing I want is to drag innocent people who had nothing to do with the portal’s existence into this mess.” Gruk smiled up at her,

“I ken.” he sighed wearily, “As much as I don’t like it, my wee girl is grown up and can make her own choice on the matter. And I rather get the feelin’ she’ll jump at the chance to help ye.” Edwin fiddled with one of the braids in his beard, frowning,

“That’s if the Council will let her.” he said, “We don’t even know if the Council wants to tell Selene anything about where she can even find the God Clay yet, never mind sending a barely adult woman to help a city they seem to despise.” he pointed out. Selene huffed a sigh,

“Well, let’s get the next Council meeting out of the way first. If they can’t help with locating the God Clay itself, I can at least make inquiries about them allowing Meredith to help.” 

None of the people around the table had noticed that one of the kingsguard had left the nearby table as soon as the conversation had ended. The heavily armoured dwarf excused himself, stating that he was going to do a quick patrol around the pub. No one noticed him pull out a small hand mirror from one of the pouches on his belt as he walked out the door. Firetome was going to be very interested to hear about this.