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aquadestinyswriting · 9 months

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A Circle None can Break- Part Twelve

Summary: Selene and Edwin have a small heart-to-heart before heading down to the Hammer and Anvil's barroom to drown their collective sorrows, Firetome finds out an interesting tidbit that will help his own schemes and all the dwarves of Fangthane have noticed that the mountain's unhappy about something as it won't stop tremoring.

Words: 2,487

Warnings: None that I can tell. Enjoy the shippy fluff that's in here.

Notes: I am very pleased to have found out what motivates Firetome to do what he does in Fangthane's Folly and the Anvil's Fall. in the meantime, I need to go give Edwin a hug

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

Firetome drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently. It had been hours since he’d sent young Gurrisdottir off to the Archives to find those records for him. True, it the records he was after were probably highly restricted, but surely the Archivers would be happy to help her once she showed them the note he’d given her.

A Shaper? Here, in Fangthane? Either Kherillim had seen fit to Bless a different family due to the apparent doom that was coming for the world, or his was not the only family left in the mount with a connection to the Purged. He would know for certain either way if the girl would just hurry up with those records already!

Firetome’s mind spun with the possibilities. While Gruksdottir had clearly been raised Moradhir, was her family simply low-lying Throffites like his own? If so, then perhaps they could be convinced to join him and his fellows in unseating the Heretical Goldseeker line for good. The High Inquisitor seethed at the old memory that bubbled up to the surface:

“But Da, if Moradin’s not even really from Titan, why do we even have to worship him?” the beardlet protested. He yelped as his father swiftly clipped him around the ear,

“Hold yer wheesth, lad!” the older dwarf hissed, “D’ye want to be taken away, like yer uncle was?” Skarld’s eyes went wide with pain and fear and he fervently shook his head. His father nodded in satisfaction, “Then don’t go around saying such things where folk can hear. All you need to ken is that Moradin overthrew the Goddess that created us and the king and his family agree with Him.”

While Firetome now knew his father had greatly simplified the matter, the fact yet remained that the royal family were responsible for allowing an Outsider God into the midst of the people of Fangthane, no matter how much they now insisted that Throff was still just as revered as their supposed Dwarf Father. He was startled out of his thoughts as the door to his office swung open,

“I finally got the records ye asked for, yer Eminence.” Gurrisdottir’s voice called from the doorway, “I’m sorry it took so long, I had to spend an hour arguing with one of the Archivers, and it took them an age to find the one you were after.” The younger dwarf frowned as she placed the slates onto the desk in front of Firetome, but said nothing as she waited for permission to leave. Firetome smiled at her,

“Thank you very much for getting this for me, Birghe.” he said in his most fatherly tone, “Please don’t worry about it taking so long. Ordinarily I’d ask Vera to get these for me, but she’s out on a training exercise. I’ll have a word with the Archivers and see that this sort of nonsense doesn’t happen again.” The sandy-haired Acolyte bowed deeply,

“Thank you, sir. Do you need anything else?” she asked. Firetome shook his head,

“No, thank you, Birghe, you’re free to return to your duties.” he said, “Please pass on my apologies to Sister Imraksdottir for keeping you away for so long.” He gave the younger woman another indulgent smile as she bowed again, then walked out of his study. The smile dropped from his face the moment she closed the door behind her,

“I suppose I’d better keep an eye. I don’t need Ragnarsson questioning why I’m even after these.” he muttered, sliding the protective slate to one side and peering at the family tree that was now laid out before him. The High Inquisitor’s eyes slid up from the bottom, tracing the line from Gruksdottir herself until he noticed a name familiar to him from his grandfather’s stories,

“Well now. I wonder how long the Church was going to keep that little tidbit under wraps.” he murmured, stroking his beard as he stared at the dotted line that had been crossed through between ‘Merewin Stonespeaker’ and ‘Ragnar Goldseeker’. “Looks like I need to ask the Record Keepers some questions.” Smiling to himself, Firetome pulled out a drawer and picked up the winged eye necklace from it,

“If all goes to plan, then Fangthane will be ours by the end of the year, my Lord. Then we can finally oust the Usurper Gods from this world for good and reinstate the Natural Order.” The necklace grew warm in his hands,

Firetome’s smile fell, what a disappointment. He nodded,

Well done. However, do not rely on the help of the Shaper girl. She has been too corrupted by the Usurper to be useful to our cause. Be careful around her.

“Of course, my Lord.” he murmured, gently placing the necklace back in the drawer and locking it. He glanced back at the Record on his desk. Well, if nothing else, he had evidence that King Jotunn’s decree hadn’t entirely wiped out the Redhammer heritage from Fangthane. Oh what a delight it would be to throw that in His Majesty’s, and the Church’s faces. Satisfied, Firetome returned to the paperwork he’d abandoned upon getting the news about Gruksdottir, feeling much better about his chances.

Edwin grimaced as he watched Selene throw her belongings into her personal Bag of Holding,

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't help any more." He sighed, "Will you be alright to make it back to Toreguarde alone?" He asked. Selene huffed out a stressed sigh,

"Getting back is the easy bit." She said, her voice strained, "The hard bit is going to be telling everyone else that there's nothing I can do about the Seal, aside from hoping for yet another Divine Intervention. At least I've got time to organise a full evacuation for when…" she trailed off, shaking her head and gulping down her emotions.

Edwin his fingers over his brow. Selene didn't need to finish her sentence. He knew full well what would be coming the minute the Seal failed entirely. Gods damn it all, why was king Storri being so damned stubborn? The cleric felt the floor under his feet vibrate, a low dangerous growl emanating from the earth below. While he was no devotee of Moradin or Throff, he'd lived in Fangthane long enough to know what such a thing portended. He cautiously laid a hand on Selene's shoulder, his heart squeezing painfully at her dejected slump,

"While His Majesty is being unreasonably stubborn, I believe that his mind can, and will, be changed." He said softly, "Don't give up entirely. Not yet." He said, his voice soft. Selene leaned back into the touch, shuddering out another sigh. She looked up at him with a small, fragile smile,

"I'll try." She said, "If he does, can you let me know? I'd rather know if I need to call off any evacuation efforts than take the risk that he won't, or will leave it until the last possible moment." Edwin nodded,

"Of course I will." He said, squeezing his old friend's shoulder. Selene leaned her head against the cleric, briefly closing her eyes,

"Thank you." She murmured. Edwin resisted the sudden urge to kiss the woman's forehead. Where had that even come from? He settled for hugging her instead,

"No matter what happens, I will be here any time you need me." He told her, "Even if you get told I'm busy, keep insisting. I'm not leaving you to face this alone." The cleric's resolve hardened as Selene nodded. He couldn't, and wouldn't, allow disaster to befall anyone else. He'd already failed Alexis and Fai. He wasn't going to fail Selene. Edwin felt oddly disappointed when Selene finally broke the hug,

"Sorry, I should be getting on with this." She said with a half-hearted chuckle, "Don't want His Royal Pain In The Ass sending over his kingsguard to kick me out." Edwin shook his head to clear it,

"I seem to recall you saying he was giving you another day." He pointed out, "At least stay until morning, Snorri and Gruk are going to be right upset if you leave without saying goodbye properly." His heart skipped when Selene snorted, looked back at him and smiled,

"I suppose it would be a bit rude to up and leave without having a few pints for the road." She agreed, "Let me just make sure I've got everything, then we can head down to the bar."

Archlector Vanskleig sighed as he felt the floor under his feet vibrate violently. While he was of a mind to march up to the palace to give the young king of Fangthane what for following his little tantrum at the meeting earlier that day, the wrath the mountain was channelling was not Moradin's. It was Throff's. The elderly dwarf settled into his armchair and picked out another biscuit from the box next to him, dipping it into his tea to soften it. Best to leave Her to it, he decided, he could help deal with the cleanup after.

Half the mountain was abuzz with rumours that the elemental of Fangthane was getting restless as the tremors continued throughout the afternoon. The landlord of the Elemental's Crack spent most of that time making sure that everything in the pub was utterly secured and couldn't fall off if the Elemental did decide to go for a walkabout.

Gruk frowned as he felt the floor under his feet vibrate again. Despite his father having been a Stonespeaker –one of the best of his generation – the ability had skipped a generation, leaving the smith unable to figure out what in the Pit was going on with the mountain he called home. It didn’t help that the one family member who could hadn’t felt like coming to her uncle’s pub for almost a month. Snorri placed Gruk’s stein in front of him, breaking the younger man out of his reverie,

“What’s on your mind, wean?” The elder Ironforge asked, sitting down heavily in the seat next to Gruk. Gruk snorted,

“I wish ye’d stop calling me that. I’m not even the youngest one.” he protested.Snorri chuckled,

“Well, if Ufgi showed up more often, I wouldn’t need to.” he pointed out, “So, I’ll ask again, what’s on yer mind?” Gruk looked at his older brother incredulously,

“Aside from my youngest daughter stressing herself out to the hells and back, the fact that we ken that, unless she gets out there to help, that we’re gonna have another Demon War on our hands and now the mountain’s complaining about something and neither of us can tell what in the Pit’s wrong with it?” he replied, ticking off each issue on his fingers. Snorri shrugged,

“Well, I think I can help with the last one.” he said, “Word in the vein from the Stonespeakers that’ve turned up here rather than risking the Crack is that summat’s gone and upset it. They can’t say what because, apparently, it’s talking nonsense and no one can figure it out, but that seems to be the general gist.” Gruk scoffed,

“Da probably would’ve figured it out hours ago.” he said bitterly, “Knowing our luck it’s because that damn Seal’s already given way.”

“Given I haven’t had any panicked Scrys sent to my personal mirror in the last hour or so, I very much doubt it.” Selene’s voice stated from behind the two dwarven men. Snorri grinned at her,

“Well, that’s a relief, but it still doesn’t answer the question of what the hells is up with the mountain.” The ex-slayer’s face fell when he noticed the pack lying at Selene’s feet, “Ye’re leaving already?” he asked. Edwin grimaced as he joined the group at the table, two pint glasses already in his hands,

“His Majesty has decided that he’s had enough of our visitor and is giving her until tomorrow to pack up and get out.” he sighed, placing the glasses on the table. Gruk’s frown deepened further,

“What, did ye insult his honour or summat?” he asked. Selene shrugged and necked half her pint before answering,

“He started it.” she replied shortly. Snorri slowly got up and sent his brother a look,

“I’ll go get Reggie to deal with the bar tonight.” he said, “I’ll be right back.” Gruk cocked his head as he returned his attention to the Grand Magus and the Abouna,

“What even happened?” he asked, already dreading the answer as the vibrations in the floor became stronger. Selene downed the rest of her pint, huffed a stressed sigh and spent the next ten minutes informing the increasingly outraged smith of what had transpired in her meeting, quietly leaving out the location of the God Clay at Edwin’s suggestion.

“So, in summary, I’m free to go get the godsdamned clay if I feel like it, but His Majesty will be damned if he’s going to actually help.” she finished. The whole pub had stopped to listen into the wizard’s rant the moment it had started, after all such rants were normally extremely entertaining. This one, however, had not been. Right as voices started to rise in protest, the floor jerked violently once, then fell still, causing the voices to die almost immediately. Edwin, who had been leaning on the table, shaking his head as he listened to Selene’s rant, shot upright, jolted from his thoughts as a shock of divine power rippled through the magical weave. A dozen other dwarves followed suit seconds after, most of them lower level clerics and paladins of various faiths. Selene, looked around the room, frowning as she felt a smaller ripple in the weave,

“What was that?” she asked, a pit of dread building in her stomach. Edwin shook his head,

“I’m… not sure.” he admitted, pulling out his Holy Symbol and muttering a prayer to it. He sighed in relief when Galana immediately answered his call, a soothing river of warmth filing him from head to toe.

My sister’s taking care of things.

Edwin blinked. It was rare for Galana to give him any direct messages, especially one as short and straightforward (yet still frustratingly vague) as that. He shrugged at the perplexed look Selene was giving him,

“Apparently Throff’s taking care of matters.” he said, “I’ve no idea how.” he added as Selene opened her mouth. The wizard grimaced,

“Well, at least it’s something.” she grumbled. She glanced over to Gruk, who was frowning into his stein, “You alright there Gruk?” she asked.

Gruk peered into his beer as though it held any answers to the questions that now ran through his mind. He was no cleric- he hadn’t once felt the Call like Meredith had, and he had never had any inclination to get involved with the divine in any way, shape or form-and yet he knew he’d felt something at the same time as all the clerics and paladins had. His stomach twisted uncomfortably right as the doors of the Hammer and Anvil were slammed open.

#aquadestinyswriting #writeblrcafe #the wizard's tale #a circle none can break #selene frigidwake #edwin goodwin #gruk ironforge #snorri ironforge #skarld firetome

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aquadestinyswriting · 6 months

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A Circle None Can Break: Part Thirteen

Summary: His Majesty is brought into the Royal Vaults to see the message left for him there. He sends his Kingsguard to find the thief and vandal responsible, only to have a heart to heart with the Archlector

Words: 2,332

Warnings: None that I can tell. Let me know if I'm wrong

Notes: Second to last chapter folks! This has been a journey and a bit. The message being referred to can be found at the end of the Flash Fiction entry A Mother's Wrath

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

King Storri glared at the moulded runes on the wall of the Royal Vault. He sniffed and turned to the captain of his Kingsguard,

“Do we have any idea how the culprit even got into the vault?” he asked lightly. Captain Bloodvein stroked his beard thoughtfully, mulling the question over,

“Not yet, Your Majesty. All we know so far is that the doors weren’t forced open and none of the guards, or any of the rest of the staff, have seen anyone skulking around the palace.” he replied. The taller dwarf glanced at the runes on the wall. They had been too perfectly moulded onto the surface to have been the work of some random thief and vandal. He cleared his throat as his king fumed,

“Your Majesty, perhaps we need to consider the possibility that this was not the work of a mortal being,” he ventured warily, “The Vault has been thoroughly protected from all manner of teleportation magic and the runes are confirmed to be physically present and, by all accounts, appear to be part of the wall. The language used is also indicative of-” he was cut off as Storri raised a hand,

“I will confer with the Church with regards to this message, Captain. However, if the disappearance of a potentially sacred or heretical artefact was the work of the gods, then how do you explain that?” he asked, pointing to a scuff mark on the floor next to the shelf and a faint footprint next to it. Captain Bloodvein heaved a sigh and nodded,

“I’ll send out a search party for the individual responsible at once, sire.” he said, turning to the small troupe of guards he had brought with him, “Broadaxe, Silverhand with me.” he called, starting to lead the two other dwarves out of the Vault, only to be stopped by the appearance of a tall, thin figure in the doorway. The Kingsguard stumbled to a halt and bowed deeply as the Archlector quietly sauntered into the cavern. He nodded to the Kingsguard and smiled,

“Please, don’t stop your search on my account.” he said mildly, stepping aside to allow the Kingsguard to leave. Captain Bloodvein bowed once more, frowning in consternation, but quickly recalled himself and left.

Storri turned stiffly and inclined his head at the sound of the Archlector’s voice behind him,

“Archlector, to what do we owe the pleasure?” he asked. Archlector Vanskleig said nothing as he glided across the cavern, peering at the runes moulded onto the wall his king was standing next to. The elderly dwarf cocked his head,

“It’s curious, don’t you think? That we should be so troubled by earthquakes, and that some random miscreant manages to gain entry into the Royal Vault, of all places, to steal a random sacred item mere hours after you dismissed Lady Frigidwake from the mountain?”

Storri tensed. The Archlector’s voice was soft, gentle even. However, even Storri could not miss the undercurrent in the elderly dwarf’s words. The king turned back to the wall, shaking his head,

“What should I have done instead, Archlector? Sent one of our own out on what amounts to a suicide mission when we are only barely recovering from a disaster that Lady Frigidwake, and her companions, were responsible for?” Vanskleig sighed, leaned on his staff and laid a hand on the young king’s shoulder,

“I just don’t want to see ma people suffer any more.” he murmured. He huffed a sigh and shook his head, “However, I will concede to yer wisdom on this matter. The tablet still needs to be returned, however.” Vanskleig squeezed the younger dwarf’s shoulder,

“I understand your reluctance to get involved, Your Majesty, I do.” he said quietly, “However, inaction on our part will have graver consequences than can possibly be imagined.” He gestured to the runes, “Not a one of us, not even I, can deny the Call of Kherillim or even Dànadas.” he added. Storri hung his head,

“Aye, that it does. So long as yer Kingsguard don’t do anything rash, then there won’t be any further issues.”

Edwin and Selene raced through the streets of Fangthane, Gruk in tow, while Snorri kept the patrons of his bar in their seats.

“What in all the Hells is the lassie doin’?!” Gruk despaired as he skidded around the corner and onto the street leading out to the main entrance to Fangthane. Edwin shook his head,

“It’s not Meredith, Gruk. Throff has had enough and is making a Statement. I just hope we find your daughter before the Kingsguard do.” he muttered. Selene said nothing, guilt squeezing at her heart. While she was more than aware that getting Gruk’s daughter involved in her city’s problems was the Will of the Gods, that didn’t stop her from wishing that there was another way to solve the problem.

~Too bad, there isn’t.~ came Chrackle’s voice in her head, ~Anyway, you’re a bit late. The girl’s surrounded by Kingsguard. Giving you a heads up that she’s very upset so you might want to duck and cover.~ he said. Selene grimaced, realising only now that she could feel the pull of magic towards the front door. She grabbed Edwin and Gruk and pulled them behind a pillar just as a loud Crack! Echoed around the hall. Loud shouts of fear and partial outrage quickly followed suit, along with the muffled voice of a young, female dwarf yelling something. Selene couldn’t make out what the young cleric was saying over the ringing in her ears. She could barely hear Edwin’s swearing. She glanced over to Gruk, who had gone white under his beard. The smith looked up at the human wizard and gestured in the direction of the front door with a determined grimace. Selene shook her head, but Gruk could not be swayed and he snorted, got up and marched out from behind the pillar to confront whoever got in his way first. Selene swept her gaze over to Edwin, who shrugged and got up to follow the dwarven man. The ringing in her ears abated slightly as Selene rounded the pillar, only to find Captain Bloodvein standing next to a wary looking young dwarven girl wearing clerical vestments and clutching a stone tablet in her arms. The Captain of the Kingsguard was waving for the other dwarves with him to stand down as he approached Meredith, glancing up at the doors at the girl’s back. Selene followed his gaze, jaw dropping open at the sight of the huge crack spread across the massive, granite slabs that made up the front door. Selene quickly recalled herself and brought her gaze back to the two dwarves at the foot of the doors.

Captain Bloodvein held up his hands in the most placating manner he could,

“Alright hen, point made. I’m just here to get that tablet and take it back where it belongs.” he said, keeping his voice level. The young woman glared at him, tears brimming in her eyes,

“And I just telt ye that I couldn’t.” she snapped. Captain Bloodvein heaved a sigh,

“I can’t let ye keep it.” he said patiently, “If ye’re worried that ye’re in major trouble, don’t be. I saw the message yer Mistress left fer us. I’m no’ daft enough to get in Her way.” Meredith frowned, concerned,

“Ye swear I’m not in trouble fer this?” she asked. Captain Bloodvein clasped his hand to his chest and bowed his head,

“On my Oath and Honour as Kingsguard, ye have my word.” he said. Meredith’s frown lifted into a look of shocked surprise for a moment, before she grimaced, nodded to herself and held the tablet out,

“I’m not even sure why She wanted me to take this anyway.” she muttered. Bloodvein smiled as he took the tablet from the girl’s hands,

“I’ve got a vague idea as to why, but let’s wait to see what happens next, eh?” He turned around and nodded to the half-incensed, half- worried Gruk, who had stopped in his tracks halfway up the entrance hall, “My apologies, Mr Ironforge, I’m gonna have to borrow yer daughter fer a bit longer. I rather think there are some folk that want to have a chat with her first.” he said, glancing over to Selene, who bowed her head in embarrassment. Gruk snorted, crossed his arms over his chest and nodded,

“Of course, Captain, I’ll no’ get in the way of that.” he agreed. He glanced over to his daughter, his expression softening slightly on seeing the scared and anxious look she was giving him,

“We’ll have a chat with yer mum when ye get home.” he said, “We’ll sort something out. In the meantime, mind yer manners.” he told her. Meredith slowly nodded, a small smile finally gracing her features. Edwin sighed and ran a hand through his hair,

“I suppose you’ll be needing someone to get word back to Snorri and his pub about what’s going on?” he asked, “I dread to think what kinds of rumours are making their way around the place by now.” Gruk slapped the Abouna on the arm,

“Dinna panic, I’m comin’ with ye, ye daft blithy.” he sighed, “It’s not like I want any of those rumours doing the rounds, and I know what’s being said in that bloody taproom.” the smith looked over to Selene,

“You make sure to take care of ma wee girl, aye?” he said, voice stern once more. Selene chuckled and nodded,

“Of course. I’ll, hopefully, see you later. Provided His Majesty doesn’t throw another hissy fit and throw me out immediately.”

“Be an idiot if he did.” Chrackle squawked, fluttering onto Selene’s shoulder, “Already need to repair door. Will need replace if he that stupid.” Selene glanced to the crack in the door again,

“Quite.” she murmured. She waved Gruk and Edwin off and turned to Captain Bloodvein, who had finally managed to coax Meredith down the stairs. The kingsguard quickly created a square around their Captain and his two guests and quickly marched back towards the Palace, making every attempt to keep ahead of the slowly gathering crowd that was congregating near the front doors.

Firetome seethed as he read through the latest report that was hurriedly placed onto his desk. He, and his his master, had both been most pleased when word had reached them of the theft from the Royal Vault. The High Inquisitor had been hopeful that, once the girl had been arrested, he’d be brought in to question her. This latest report, however… He threw the parchment onto the fire with a frustrated grunt. Now that the Archlector had become involved, there was little to no chance of stopping Moradin’s little pet from getting to Toreguarde. He didn’t bother looking up at the knock on his door.

“Yer Eminence, ye have a visitor.” Vera called from the door. Firetome schooled his expression into one of weariness,

“May I ask who it is?” he asked with a resigned sigh. Vera stepped to one side as another, feminine figure appeared in the doorway,

“Thank you for bringing me here dear.” came a familiar, lilting voice, “I believe I can take it from here.” Firetome nodded at the dubious expression on Vera’s face and smiled as Lady Copperheart walked into the office,

“Lady Copperheart, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked, smiling broadly at her. Vera sighed, shrugged and left, closing the door behind her. Ionah waited until she was sure the trainee Inquisitor was gone before she replied, sitting down smoothly in the chair opposite Firetome. She smoothed out her dress,

“It’s recently come to my attention that His Majesty has agreed to have one last meeting with Lady Frigidwake, despite insisting that she leave the mountain earlier today.” she sniffed, “As I understand it, there were some…ecumenical developments that led to his change of heart.” She glanced up at Firetome, “You happen to know anything about that?” she asked sweetly. Firetome huffed a sigh,

“Aye, disappointingly. Apparently Throff Herself saw fit to get involved.” he replied, “T’would seem that our attempts to prevent help from reaching Toreguarde have been thwarted for the time being.” he grumbled. Ionah shook her head,

“Disappointing.” she tutted, “However, we are not entirely out of options.” the noblewoman took out a compact mirror and checked her reflection, “The girl is young and inexperienced and there are rumours afoot about other forces encroaching on Toreguarde, which I’m sure will be more than enough to take care of her.” she added. Firetome snorted,

“Given that she seems to be a favourite of Moradin and Kherillim both, I doubt anything else that wants to throw itself at her will be enough.” he muttered, “I’m of a mind to ask Grimbeard to keep an eye on her. See if he can’t cause her some trouble while she’s there.”

Ionah smiled,

“You speak to dear Grimbeard, and I’ll see what my own connections in the city can do. A word or two in the right ears should be enough to keep her too busy to deal with what she’s there to do.” she said, leaning back in her seat. Firetome grinned at her,

“Well then, my lady, I think we both have rather a lot of work to do. I’ll make sure to tell my Inquisitors to allow you entry whensoever you need to speak to me again.” he added, getting up from his chair and offering his arm. Ionah beamed at him, took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be escorted back to the door,

“Thank you, High Inquisitor. Do endeavour to keep in touch, won’t you?” she simpered. Firetome kissed her hand as he opened the door,

“Of course, my lady. Until next time.” he said. The High Inquisitor watched the noblewoman go, feeling a little better about the situation and returning to his desk to get on with the mountain of paperwork that was waiting for him.

#aquadestinyswriting #the wizard's tale #a circle none can break #storri goldseeker #kargun vanskleig #selene frigidwake #edwin goodwin #gruk ironforge #skarld firetome #ionah copperheart

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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year

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Come Back Again

Summary: Gruk is on the hunt for his youngest daughter, who seems to have vanished after the weekly service in the Cathedral of Kherillim

Words: 2,152

Tags: @druidx @homesteadchronicles @asher-orion-writes,@warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings

Warnings: None. Fluffy fluff is fluffy

Notes: Meredith is about the equivalent of 6 or 7 years old in this one, so she has no idea of the significance of what she's doing. The lyrics she's singing is from Will Ye No Come Back Again? I'm going to try and sort out some in-universe lyrics that would fit because it does sound a bit hymn-like

The Cathedral of Kherillim had been the centre of Fangthane society since its founding. It was a huge edifice carved directly out of the mountain initially, but as the millenia went on, new parts were added as the city grew and prospered. Now the entrance hall was made of brilliantly polished marble and obsidian and mosaics and tapestries covered the floors, walls and pillars of the interior. The oldest parts still bore scars from the various wars that had happened centuries before, but, for the most part, the building gleamed, lit by the light of the divine that infused the place.

A stocky, near middle-aged dwarven man grumbled as he walked through the hallway leading further into the cathedral and away from the main vestibule. He was currently wearing a smart suit and tie and his dark auburn beard and hair were freshly washed and combed through, dimly reflecting the light from the various glowstones that lit his way. The man grumbled as he strode down the hall, passing a small gaggle of junior members of the clergy who hurried off to attend to their various duties now that the morning service was over.

“I swear, the lassie must be part kobold to have disappeared this fast.” he groused, stopping at a junction and peering down each passageway, hoping to catch a glimpse of his currently wayward youngest daughter. He turned at the sound of footsteps behind him,

“Ah, good morning Mr Ovaksson. Can I help you with anything?” A deep but quiet voice asked. Ovaksson grumbled a bit more, waving his hand in the direction he’d been walking,

“Hopefully ye can Faither. My youngest daughter, wee Meredith, has decided to take it upon herself to go for a wander.” The sandy-haired cleric of Moradin shook his head and laid a hand on the despondent man’s shoulder,

“It’s alright Gruk, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. When was the last time ye saw her?” he asked. Gruk looked guiltily at the floor,

“Ah, to be honest, I wasn’t the one watching her during the service. That was supposed to be Alfie. Last I was looking was at the start of the service and she seemed content enough then.” The cleric huffed a patient sigh, and gestured for Gruk to follow him,

“We might as well check the Infirmary first, then. It’s the place she’s the most familiar with.”

It wasn’t long before other members of the clergy were roped into the search. The cleric Gruk had initially told about his daughter’s disappearance had collected a group of acolytes to help him, while Gruk was sent off with a more senior member of staff. The dark-haired man looked back at a frantic Gruk as the pair turned down another corridor,

“Don’t worry Gruk, she has to be somewhere down here. I can’t imagine that she’s left the Cathedral.” Gruk waved his hands in front of him, gesturing down the corridor,

“That’s not what I’m worried aboot Faither.” he said, his voice tight, “I just hope she’s not gotten into someplace she’s not meant to.” Father Ragnarsson pursed his lips as he carried on down the hall. While it was not unusual for children to go wandering through the Cathedral- especially if they felt an affinity for the place- it was rare for them to wander far from the main vestibule. The priest pondered what it meant that young Meredith had wandered so far. He paused, causing Gruk to run into the back of him,

“Oof! What’re ye-” Ragnarsson held up a hand to quiet the blacksmith and cocked his head. A quiet giggle, followed by murmuring filtered through a doorway further down the corridor. A soft blue-ish light was barely visible through the gloom. Ragnarsson turned back to Gruk,

“I think we’ve got her.” he said, voice low, “I don’t know what she’s doing, but I don’t think it’s wise to march up there and startle her.” Gruk’s brow furrowed as he inhaled sharply through his teeth,

“She’s been missing fer over an hour.” he growled. Ragnarsson patiently crossed his arms over his chest,

“And most young children don’t feel the need to go exploring the storage rooms of the Cathedral when there are infinitely more exciting places to find.” he retorted mildly. Gruk glared at him for a moment before finally nodding,

“Fine. But she’s still grounded for the rest o’ the year.” he grumbled. The cleric in front of him repressed a snort of amusement and gestured for Gruk to follow him, quietly. The two of them could now clearly hear the voice of a young child singing an old dwarven hymn,

“Sweet’s the laverock’s note and lang,

Lilting wildly up the glen;

But aye to me He sings ae sang,

Will ye no come back again?”

Ragnarsson smiled; while Meredith was a bit young to know the meaning of what she sang, it clearly spoke to her. The soft light brightened slightly as the blacksmith and cleric approached the door. The two men poked their heads through, one prepared to start giving the girl what for, the other preparing to talk his companion down, but both simply stared at the sight that greeted them.

The room was small, containing only a table with a gold and red runned and a simple clay bowl on top. Sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the table was a small dwarven girl wearing a dark green dress, which was currently covered in dust. Her hair was tied into unruly pigtails, the curls making it look like she was wearing bobbles on her head and in her hands…

Neither man spoke, too enraptured by what Meredith was doing. In the soft blue light between her hands was a handful of what looked like claydust gently being teased into the shape of a rabbit. Sitting at her knee, currently cleaning its nose and ears, was a mouse that looked to be made of the same material. The dust-creature froze and looked up at the two dwarven men, squeaking in alarm. The noise was enough to break the girl’s concentration and the soft blue light faded as she looked up, eyes wide. She quickly cupped her hands and brought them to her chest protectively, while the dust-mouse scampered into the space between her legs. The three dwarves stared at each other, none of them sure what to say.

Ragnarsson stared dumbly at the mouse. The thing was made of claydust. It shouldn’t be staying together like that, never mind moving and squeaking. He glanced up at the bowl on the table, dim memories of being told about it; its importance to Fangthane’s history, what exactly it was made of and who had created it.

Shaper.

The word rang loud and clear in his mind. But how? The last known Shaper died over 2,000 years ago and the family line the ability had been linked to had been extinct for almost a millennium…

He was shaken out of his thoughts by Gruk finally breaking the silence,

“What’ve ye got there, Merri?” the blacksmith asked, his voice low, gentle and genuinely curious. The blacksmith slowly crept into the room and crouched in front of his daughter, who shuffled back, a little, looking up at her father warily,

“Ye- ye’re not upset?” she asked, voice quavering. Gruk shook his head, now kneeling and sitting back on his haunches,

“I was.” he admitted, “You know ye’re not supposed to run off on yer own like that.” he paused, trying to find a way to reassure his youngest child that he wasn’t really angry with her. He huffed out a sigh, “Ye’re not in trouble.” he said, “We were just worried.” Meredith glanced up to the cleric, who nodded and crouched down next to Gruk,

“Why did you come all the way down here, Meredith?” he asked “It’s a long way from the church hall.” he added. Meredith looked up at the bowl, frowned, then looked back to the priest,

“The really nice lady said to." She replied, "I was gettin' bored 'cause Alfie was just standing talking to folk and I wanted to go explore and-"

"What really nice lady?" Gruk asked, getting a glare for daring to interrupt his daughter's spiel just as it was getting started. Meredith huffed, puffing out her cheeks,

"The invisible one." She stated simply, "Anyway, she said that if I wanted to explore that there was something really special I had to see and she brought me here." Gruk frowned looking up to Ragnarsson.

The cleric could hardly believe what he was hearing. While it was clear that Meredith didn't have the words to describe it accurately, she had obviously been Called down here. And not only that, but by Throff Herself, if the child's wording was anything to go by. He cleared his throat,

"Did the really nice lady say anything else to you?" He asked, gesturing for Gruk to allow the child to speak. Meredith looked down at her hands thoughtfully,

"Only that she was happy that I could hear her." She said, "And that if I wanted to talk to her she would always listen, but that she was very busy sometimes so she can't talk all the time." The girl looked down to the mouse that was now sitting on her knee,

"She's not here any more, but the lady told me the dust on the bowl was special and that I was allowed to play with it." She added. Ragnarsson nodded,

"That's alright, but I think it's about time you went home. There are a lot of people currently looking for you because you didn't tell anyone where you were going." Meredith pouted,

"I told Alfie!" She retorted, "Not my fault he didn't pay attention." Gruk rolled his eyes and gestured for his daughter to get up,

"Then he'll get in more trouble than he already is." He said, "But right now, it's past lunchtime and yer mum is worried sick." Meredith looked down at the floor,

"Sorry da." She mumbled. She unclasped her hands, letting the dust between them fall to the floor and picked up the mouse on her knee instead. She showed the creature to her father,

"Can Dusty come with us?" She asked. Ragnarsson interjected before Gruk could disappoint his daughter,

"Actually, Merri, would it be alright if he came with me?" He asked. Meredith looked up at the old priest warily as she stood,

"Why?" She asked slowly, bringing the creature she'd made closer to her. Ragnarsson smiled,

"I would like to show him to someone very important." He replied patiently, "Don't worry, I promise I'll take good care of him." Meredith looked down at the mouse, which turned in the beardlet's hand and twitched its nose at her. Slowly Meredith nodded, gently placing the mouse into Ragnarsson's outstretched hand,

"Only because Dusty thinks it's a good idea." She mumbled. Ragnarsson's smile widened, placing the mouse into a pocket. Meredith sulked out of the little room while Gruk pulled himself back up. The smith frowned at the priest,

"So mind tellin' me what in the Pit is going on?" He grumbled, a worried frown settling on his face as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. Ragnarsson laid a hand on the smith's shoulder,

"To be honest, I'm not sure, but you might want to make an appointment with the High Priest to enroll her as an acolyte once she's old enough." Gruk followed Ragnarsson out into the corridor, watching as Meredith chatted animatedly to thin air. He sighed as he tromped after her,

"Well, I suppose it's better than her getting into my toolbox like her brother did." He grumbled, quickly catching up to the girl and promptly leading her back to the rest of their family.

Ragnarsson watched them leave for a moment, before turning back to the room he'd just exited, frowning at the bowl on the table and the small collection of dust on the flood. He closed the door and swept off in another direction, head still spinning. Never mind the High Priest, the Archlector had to be informed about this. He petted the mouse absentmindedly as he walked. If this was what Meredith was already capable of with no training, then who knew how powerful she could be with the proper guidance. Mind made up, he strode down to the deepest part of the cathedral.

Elsewhere, Meredith and Gruk were hugged and admonished for being gone so long. Meredith stayed quiet as her father laid into her oldest brother for letting her wander off and her mother fussed over the state of her dress. She wondered how long Dusty would stay in that form. The lady did say he wouldn't stay that way forever. Her stomach grumbled, immediately distracting the girl. She looked up to her mother with a pout,

"Mama, I'm hungry!"

#aquadestinyswriting #titan fighting fantasy #meredith gruksdottir #gruk ironforge #jotunn ragnarsson

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aquadestinyswriting · 9 months

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From the family asks, for someone in Fangthane (you get to roll the dice because I'm not awake yet 😅️ )

Grandparents: What is some family tradition other might confuse or think it’s weird, but the OC keeps alive?

Aunt: Who taught some important skills to the OC? What skill was it?

Thanks very much for the questions, hen <3. Gonna put the answers under a cut to save people's dashes since these might get quite long if I decide to ramble.

Grandparents: What is some family tradition other might confuse or think it’s weird, but the OC keeps alive?

I'm not going to roll for this one since it's so rare for dwarven family traditions to become so forgotten that only a few people keep them alive. In this case the question will be answered for Gruk because his family history is the only one that lends itself to having a near-entirely forgotten family tradition.

As far as Gruk knows, his family is the only one that has kept the tradition of consistently thanking Fangthane itself for allowing the miners to find the metal he uses in his work. Most other smiths no longer bother to do so, and any apprentices Gruk has taken on have given him some strange looks when he asks them to follow suit. According to Gruk, his father mentioned that there used to be a prayer involved, said in Terran, but that Ovak only remembered parts of it because his parents died (read: were executed) when he was very young. After Fangthane, the elemental, got up and took a stroll to go kick some demon butt during the Demon War, fewer people think it's strange, but Gruk still gets a few odd looks now and then. At least now, he has irrefutable evidence that the mountain's actually alive. What he does still get grief for is his assertion that Fangthane is one of the manifestations of Throff upon Titan, or at least one of Her divine servants.

Aunt: Who taught some important skills to the OC? What skill was it?

Well, the dice rolled Hilde for this. Since Hilde is an Archiver for the main Fangthane Library, she learned most of the skills important to her work from Auld Derek as she apprenticed under him directly. There is a lot of skill that goes into keeping as large a collection of knowledge as Fangthane keeps safe. Especially if most of it is written in ancient dwarven in books made of stone.

The most important skill, however, is finding your way directly to the correct book exactly for the needs of anyone asking for information. Hilde doesn't quite have the level needed to even meet Derek's ability, but it's a skill that takes centuries to master, and Hilde is still very young as she's only barely into her first century at 120 years old. However, thanks to Derek's tutelage, she does have an idea of what *section* she needs to look in for any given query, which is more advanced than the majority of Archivers far older than her (to be fair to them, there are a *lot* of different sections that might cover various types of queries, depending on the question being asked. Hilde is just better at figuring out specifics to get the exact right section).

#writeblr ask games #answered asks #aquadestinyswriting #titan fighting fantasy #gruk ironforge #hilde ironforge

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aquadestinyswriting · 10 months

Text

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.

#aquadestinyswriting #writeblrcafe #the wizard's tale #a circle none can break #storri goldseeker #garin goldseeker #garni goldseeker #jotunn ragnarsson #archlector vanskleig #derek heimlig #selene frigidwake #edwin goodwin #gruk ironforge #snorri ironforge

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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year

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A Circle None Can Break- Part Six

Summary: Selene's interrogation is finally ended, though she is less than happy with the way she's been treated. Meanwhile, Edwin is consoling a less than happy Gruk about his problems.

Words: 2,326

Warnings: None that I can immediately think of. Let me know if there's anything that needs tagging

Notes: Finally a chapter that's a little bit lighter. Some 'new' characters get their introduction here.

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes

Selene stared impassively at the red-haired dwarven man sitting opposite her. She hadn’t been best pleased to have had to spend the night and most of the following morning in the cell she’d been taken to. Nor was she very happy about the reinstatement of the antimagic field or the fact that she had not been permitted to have Chrackle remain with her. So she was understandably irritated when Moradin’s High Inquisitor started stalling following at least two hours of questioning about her motives for her visit.

“I have answered all of your questions to the best of my ability, High Inquisitor. As you can see, given the Zone of Truth that was cast, I have not been lying to you in any sense of the word. I honestly do not know what else you want me to tell you.” Firetome grumbled a little and huffed out a sigh, looking over the notes he’d been taking throughout the ‘interview’,

“I’m sorry, Lady Frigidwake, I was just trying to make sure that there was nothing I’d missed.” he said. He looked up at the human wizard again, “As it stands, yer testimony has indeed been proven true, so there is no reason fer us to hold ye any longer.” He gestured to another dwarf, a young woman with a dark blonde beard who was clearly in training to become an Inquisitor,

“Vera, be a lass and take the antimagic manacles off the good Lady please.” he requested, gathering up the paperwork and shuffling it together. He stood, backed away a step and bowed as Vera unlocked the manacles around Selene’s wrists and took them away, “I know it probably doesn’t mean much, my Lady, but I do sincerely apologise fer the hassle.” Selene glared up at him, rubbing her wrists,

“‘Hassle’ isn’t even the word for it.” she retorted sharply, before recalling herself and shaking her head, “Please inform His Majesty, that I still intend to speak before the Council because I really don’t have any other choice. The artefact I told you about has been the only thing I’ve been able to find that can possibly solve our mutual problem. Had I any other recourse, I would be quite happy to see myself out of the mountain and never bother you again.” Firetome stroked his beard,

“Are ye happy for me to at least inform His Majesty of said artefact ahead of yer meeting with the Council?” he asked. Selene rose from her seat and regarded the dwarf carefully, mulling his question over. Slowly, she nodded,

“Yes. If only to prepare him for the reaction of what will likely be most of the mountain, never mind the Council, given your reaction to what I said.” she said. Firetome gave her another short bow,

“Very well. In the meantime, I’ll have Vera help you collect your belongings so you can sort yerself out. You mentioned that ye’d be seeking other accommodations?” he inquired. Selene crossed her arms moodily and fixed the Inquisitor with a dark glare,

“Given the manner in which I was treated mere hours after accepting His Majesty’s hospitality, I don’t think it is wise to intrude upon it any longer.” she stated, “I’ll be inquiring about any taverns that have rooms available once I leave.” Firetome sighed and Blessed the wizard,

“In which case, I’ll let ye get on with that. Again, my most sincere apologies fer the way ye’ve been treated. Moradin watch yer steps.” His Blessing given, Firetome swept out of the room. Vera immediately came to Selene’s side, quietly dispelling the Zone of Truth,

“If it helps, my lady, I know of a tavern that would be more than happy to host ye for the remainder of yer visit.” she said. Selene sent the young dwarf a smile,

“Let me guess, the Elemental’s Crack?” she asked. Vera quickly stifled a snort and shook her head, leading Selene out of the interview room and out into the palace dungeons again,

“Och, no. The Crack is right doon the bottom of the residential parts of the mount. I’ll no’ have a visiting dignitary sully themselves headin’ doon there.” the pair of women rounded a corner, “Not that it’s a bad pub or anythin’, it’s just it’s right next to the entrances to the mines and we’ve been havin’ a problem with some unwanted visitors from the underpass comin’ up through that way.” Vera explained. Selene made a quiet ‘huh’ sound,

“I hadn’t realised it was that far down.” she said, “Then again, my last visit to your city was a little too hectic to really parse where everything was in relation to each other. Then there was the fact that half the mountain got up and wandered off for a bit.” Vera snorted, amused,

“Aye, that would throw off yer sense o’ geography.” she agreed, “However, back to the matter at hand; there’s a tavern doon in the tradin’ district whose landlord will likely be happy to host ye fer a day or two. The Abouna is a frequent visitor too.” she added. Selene tapped her chin,

“I think I heard Edwin mention a pub he frequented. The Hammer and…. Something I think.” Vera beamed up at the wizard,

“Aye, the Hammer and Anvil it’s called. The landlord is one of the few Slayers that was accepted back into the mountain after the war ended. His Majesty realised that we just didn’t have enough adult dwarven men left afterwards and issued pardons to any that wanted to come back and help rebuild.” Selene frowned at Vera,

“That was… surprisingly noble of him.” she said slowly, trying to match up her experience of the Low King with what Vera clearly believed was a man of good and noble intent. The pair reached the entrance to the dungeon, where a small troupe of kingsguard was waiting, along with Selene’s things. Vera stopped short of reaching them and shook her head,

“His Majesty is not a bad person, yer ladyship.” she said in a low voice, “But he is very young- barely a century- and a bit afeart of recent events.” she explained. Selene’s frown deepened momentarily, but she lifted it and held out her hand,

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Thank you.” Vera shook the offered appendage. She continued to watch Selene as the human swept up to the kingsguard, bowed her head politely, took her staff and walked out of the dungeons. The cleric frowned. She had only been working under Firetome for a year, but something about the way he'd conducted the interview with the woman had rankled. Not to mention that he seemed to be as cagey about his questions as Lady Frigidwake had been about answering them until he'd stepped outside the limit of the Zone of Truth spell. Vera shook her head, unless she was permitted to approach the Archlector himself, there was no one she could approach about it. The dwarven woman grumbled, stomping out of the dungeons. After all that, she desperately needed a stiff drink or three.

~*~

The Hammer and Anvil was relatively quiet; the evening hadn’t quite set in yet and the only patrons in the pub were those in the mountain purely for business or those dwarves who worked the night shift coming in for a bite to eat before work. Edwin was glad for the peace, the last two days had been quite stressful enough. The human cleric took a sip of his ale as he considered what to say to his drinking companion, who was sitting directly opposite him, head in his sooty hands,

“You’d be better off trying to speak to Father Ragnarsson about it, Gruk.” he said, “Merri isn’t one of mine.” He added. The despondent blacksmith looked up at Edwin looking annoyed,

“Aye, but I canna get a hold of Ragnarsson.” he protested, “I’ve been trying fer the last two and a bit days, but I keep getting fobbed off!” Another round of drinks was suddenly plonked onto the table between the two friends,

“Ye’ll no’ be gettin’ a meeting with him until our wizard friend is gone from the mount.” Snorri said smoothly, “Word in the vein is that there’s a bit o’ a divide over what the Church’s official position on her is.” The burly dwarf turned his attention to Edwin, “Apparently the lassie’s not long been released, and on her way here. I’ve got a drink here for her already; she good with dwarven made ales?” Edwin beamed up at the burly landlord,

“Thank you, Snorri.” he said, “As far as Selene’s drinking habits go, I’m not sure what she drinks any more, it’s been more than ten years since we’ve been in each other’s company.” he added, “If she doesn’t want the ale, I’ll probably have it and let you know otherwise.” Snorri nodded and pulled out a key from the pocket of his pinnie, handing it to the perplexed cleric,

“I might be making assumptions here, but if yer wizard friend needs a place to sleep fer the rest of her stay, I’ve got a room made up and available fer her.” Edwin took the key, staring at it for a moment, before looking back up at the near middle-aged dwarf,

“Thank you. You really don’t need to go to such trouble-” Snorri waved a hand dismissively,

“I get all sorts passing through, and ye’ve become enough of a regular to get a favour or two.” he replied, “Besides, you and yer friends did more fer us than folk round here want to admit. An’ don’t start on my reputation or anythin’ either,” he added, noticing Edwin opening his mouth again, “This is my pub and I’ll put up who I damn well please.” Edwin looked over to Gruk, who shrugged,

“He’s got a point, laddie. Most of the mount might not like yer friends very much after what happened, but for what it’s worth, there’re still plenty of us who appreciate that we still have a world to live in.” Edwin felt his throat constrict, looking between the two men, grateful almost beyond words,

“I- thank you. Knowing that there are still people who believe in them- in us- makes the current situation a lot easier to deal with.” He put the key into a pocket on his vestments and down the rest of his original drink, “I’d best go out and meet Selene before she gets here. If only to find out how many kingsguard I need to buy drinks for for the rest of the evening.” he sighed. Snorri grunted, getting up as well,

“I’d best get back to it then, the regulars’ll no’ be long in coming in. Ye alright to entertain them Gruk?” he asked. Gruk lifted his tankard towards the two other men,

“Aye, I’ll be alright. I’ll give ye a holler if we need ye.” he said. Snorri nodded and bustled back to his bar. Edwin eyed his own mug, then looked at Gruk,

“Keep an eye on that for me will you?” he said, throwing his cloak over his shoulders and heading to the door, “And I know how much is in it!” he called, not even looking back as he exited the pub. Gruk, who had reached over towards said mug, brought his hand back with a grumble, crossing his arms over his chest,

“He’s been here too long.” he muttered, sulking.

It wasn’t long before Edwin reappeared with Selene in tow. The two humans seemed to tower over the single Kingsguard that had clearly been charged with the Grand Magus’ security. Gruk watched with interest as a magpie flew in over their heads and landed on a rafter above the dwarven smith. The bird looked around the pub, tilting its head back and forth several times before croaking and settling down to rest. Gruk returned his attention to his table, smiling widely as Edwin pulled out a seat for the woman that had joined him,

“Hullo there, lass.” he greeted, holding out his hand towards her, “Gruk Ovaksson of clan Ironforge, right pleased to finally meet ye.” The expression on Selene’s face brightened as she took the hand and shook it firmly,

“The pleasure is mine, son of Ovak.” she replied politely, “Edwin told me a little about you and your family before we came in, it’s nice to put a face to the name.” Gruk shifted and glanced over to the Kingsguard that was now sitting next to him,

“Eh, aren’t you Rabbie’s wee lad? Clan Broadfir, aye?” he exclaimed. The younger dwarf nodded, sheepishly,

“Aye, my da became friends wi’ Captain Bloodvein during the Demon War. The Captain put in a good word fer me when I started training as an Ironguard.” he said quietly, “Look, please don’t make this a huge deal. I’m supposed to be workin’.” he added, glancing around the pub. Gruk clapped a hand on the barely-more-than-a-bearling’s shoulder,

“Don’t worry, son.” he soothed, “I ken ye’re here fer work, I just didn’t expect to see you in that kind of fancy getup.” he said, winking at the boy. Selene stifled a laugh,

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve been in a community where everyone knows everyone else.” she noted, “I think you can afford to relax a little though Rabbiesson, Chrackle is an excellent lookout, provided he doesn’t get distracted.” she added, sending her familiar a glare of warning. There was an annoyed croak from the rafters, “You’re just mad because it’s true.” she said, picking up the mug that was handed to her and taking a swig from it. Edwin cleared his throat,

“Well, since we’re all here and settled, how about we all take this rare opportunity to actually relax for once?” he suggested.

“I’ll drink to that!” Gruk cheered. His cheer was echoed around the table as everyone finally felt the atmosphere relax and the two dwarves and humans began exchanging gossip.

#writing #aquadestinyswriting #the wizard's tale #a circle none can break #selene frigidwake #skarld firetome #edwin goodwin #gruk ironforge #snorri ironforge

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aquadestinyswriting · 3 months

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A Mother's Intuition

Summary: Meredith finally makes it home, and her mother is waiting in the kitchen to have some choice words with her.

Words: 854

Tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch

Warnings: Discussion of potential pregnancy. That's it .

Notes: Takes place pretty much immediately after 'A Lesson in Propriety'. Dru, I hope this makes up for breaking your heart the other day <3.

The Ironforge household was quiet and empty as Meredith quietly stepped in through the front door. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her as quietly as she could manage, not that it would help her any. The rest of her family were all at their various jobs, and the fact that the front door was unlocked meant that the only person that could be in the house was her mother. The young woman slowly put her pack on the seat beneath the coat rack, slipped off her borrowed cloak, sucked in a breath and nervously walked towards the kitchen door.

Morag was waiting, her arms crossed over her chest and a less than happy expression on her face, when Meredith finally slunk into the kitchen. The rotund dwarf was leaning against the counter facing the door. She glared at the sight of her youngest daughter and gestured to the dining table,

“Sit.” She directed simply, turning around and grabbing the kettle from over the fire and mixing up another mug of the vile concoction she had sent her daughter earlier.

Meredith did as she was told, hanging her head and worrying her bottom lip. It was rare for Morag to be this upset with her youngest daughter. Normally Gruk was the one doing all the shouting and attempting to punish her, Morag had rarely had any real cause to raise her voice. On the few occasions that she had, Meredith had vowed to herself that she would never manage to do it again. Yet here she was.

The younger woman winced as a steaming mug was slammed onto the table in front of her,

“Go on, before it gets cold.” Morag instructed tersely, taking the opportunity to roll her now greying hair back into its usual bun and sitting down opposite her daughter, still glaring at her. The silence in the small kitchen was deafening to Meredith as she blew on the ‘tea’ and drained the mug as quickly as she could manage, still trying to avoid eye contact with the middle aged dwarf in front of her.

“Right, that should help avoid any unwanted surprises.” She said, leaning back in her chair, “Now, would you care to explain exactly what the two of you were thinking last night?” she hissed, her brown eyes narrowing dangerously. Meredith shifted uncomfortably in her chair,

“Well… we kinda... didn’t.” she replied quietly, staring at the table rather than facing the angry and disappointed expression on her mother’s face. Morag sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment,

“Right, now that’s been established, can you remind me what I told you after Yoruk told us he wanted to openly court you?” she asked. Meredith nodded and began playing with one of the smaller braids in her beard,

“That ye didn’t want to hear the patter o’ little dwarven feet comin’ from our direction for at least another decade, and preferably after we got married.” She replied, only now daring to chance a glance up at her mother. Morag snorted,

“Exactly! The fact that ye’re even here tells me that at least Ionah doesn’t know about this. At least we can be grateful for small mercies.” The older woman sighed heavily, her stern expression lifting slightly, “I had just hoped that ye would actually tak’ the advice Merri. Ye’re not that long of age, and ye’ve been tellin’ me and yer da that ye feel that ye’re needed by Moradin outside the mountain. Ye canna do that if ye’ve got a baby to look after.”

Meredith squirmed under the extreme disappointment in her mother’s voice and face,

“I ken,” she sighed, “I did say as much to Yoruk at breakfast.”

Morag sent her daughter a small smile,

“Then ye ken full well that ye’re maybe better holdin’ off entirely until after that’s all sorted out?” she suggested. Meredith looked back down at the table again,

“Aye.” She agreed, “What about da though? He’s gonna put two and two together eventually.” She pointed out sullenly. Morag shook her head,

“Dinna you mind aboot yer da, hen. I’ll deal with that.” She said firmly. The older woman reached across the table and lifted her daughter’s chin, “Mistake made and lesson learnt?” she asked gently. Meredith met her mother’s gaze and smiled sadly,

“Aye, the hard way. As usual.”

Morag chuckled,

“I don’t think there’s ever been any other way for you to learn.” She teased. Her expression became a bit more serious, “Make a note o’ when yer next Moon’s due and if ye miss it by more than two weeks, or start to feel unwell in the mornings, tell me.” She ordered. Meredith nodded,

“I will mam.” She promised. Morag nodded in satisfaction, got up and hugged the younger woman. Meredith relaxed at the gesture. Yes she had been careless, but it seemed that her mother still had her back when it mattered. When the two women separated, Morag smiled cheekily at her daughter,

“Just in case though, have ye given any thought at all to names? And where’s the engagement present, for that matter?”

#aquadestinyswriting #titan fighting fantasy #the trouble with meredith #meredith gruksdottir #morag ironforge #pregnancy discussion

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aquadestinyswriting · 7 months

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15 Questions OC edition poll

Alright, so I've been tagged for this game again, twice even. So now I need help to figure out which OCs are getting interrooo....I mean interviewed next as I have so many to choose from.

#writeblr poll #15 question tag game #aquadestinyswriting #I'm limiting the choices a little so I can get a decent sample size #I have so many characters I can do this game for ;-;

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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year

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WIP Series: The Trouble with Meredith

Genres- High Fantasy, drama, angst

Themes- family, growing up, faith and its impact on a personal and societal level, political bureaucracy, Destiny and its implications.

Synopsis: Meredith Gruksdottir is the youngest daughter of Gruk and Morag, both members of the Ironforge clan. She is found to have a deep connection to both Moradin and Throff from a young age and, not only that, but is a Shaper to boot! No one seems to know how, considering the ability to Shape was completely lost to the dwarves of Titan, but it's clear to the clergy of the Church of Moradin that the girl's been Marked. Now it's up to the new High Priest, Jotunn Ragnarsson, to try and help this little girl navigate her life with a Destiny hanging over her head.

Roughly a decade after the Demon War's end, Meredith begins having distressing nightmares of a city crumbling into the abyss. She knows that she must set out to try and save it, but her young age and the simmering distrust between Fangthane and Toreguarde make it seem like that's an almost impossible task.

Main Characters

Meredith Gruksdottir: The main protagonist of this series

Meredith's Family: Merri's immediate, biological family.

Jotunn Ragnarsson: The High Priest of Moradin in Fangthane, who has to navigate teaching Meredith through her training from Acolyte to full Cleric.

Yoruk Copperheart: Meredith's sweetheart. A young Paladin who has a lot of deep and very much reciprocated feelings for her. He's trying to find his own way in the world, despite his mother's constant interference.

Ionah Copperheart: Yoruk’s mother, a witch of a woman who despises her position in life. Has greater aspirations for her son.

Tag list (dm for +/-): @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @writeblrsupport, @blind-the-winds,

Stories (all of these are pre-DNS)

(multi-chapter stories will be linked via their own introduction pages. All stories will be linked in Chronological order)

Come Back Again Ao3

A Theological Conundrum Ao3

Kith and Kin Ao3

A Lesson in Propriety Ao3

A Mother's Intuition Ao3

The Final Straw Ao3

Shattered Glass Ao3

Brìgh an Teaghlaich Ao3

Foreshocks Ao3

Striking the Anvil Ao3

Filled with Clarity Ao3

A Mother's Wrath Ao3

#aquadestinyswriting #wip series #titan fighting fantasy #the trouble with meredith #meredith gruksdottir

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aquadestinyswriting · 11 months

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Truth's Embers

Summary: Vera finally makes it to the front door of the Ironforge household, but finds her resolve wavering.

Words: 2,290

Warnings: None, amazingly. Aside from quite a lot of angst.

Tags: @druidx @homesteadchronicles @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @odysseywritings, @writeblrsupport,@freedominique

note: this is a continuation of the story started in Where Secrets Lie

Vera swallowed nervously, dithering at the front door of the modest house just off the main street of the trading district. All she had to do was knock on the door, hand the journal in her hands, hidden underneath her cloak, to whoever answered, then walk away.

The young dwarven woman cleared her throat, raised her hand and rapped on the smooth stone surface. She waited, holding her breath as she heard heavy footsteps approach the door. Whoever was coming to answer was grumbling profusely.

It seemed like it took forever before the door opened to reveal a portly middle-aged man wearing a toughened leather jerkin and troos. He blinked in surprise, staring at the sandy coloured vestments that trailed under the travel cloak the young woman at his door was wearing. He cleared his throat and stepped to one side,

"Well, ye might as well come in rather than dithering in the doorway." He sighed. Vera startled a little,

"I really shouldn't… I-I don't want to impose." She stammered. Gruk Ovaksson rolled his eyes and jerked his head towards the hall behind him,

"Given that ye're clearly from the Cathedral and are otherwise unknown to me, I absolutely insist." He said, voice low. Vera swallowed thickly, nodded and stepped through the door. Gruk closed it behind her and chivvied the younger dwarf straight through to the sitting room.

"Morag, hen, we've a visitor." He called as Vera swept her hood back and cautiously sat on the chair the middle aged blacksmith had chased her to. She glanced to a doorway, leading to what she presumed was a kitchen, where another dwarven man, nearly five inches taller than she was, wearing scuffed mail armour had just appeared. This new person cocked his head to one side as he regarded the inquisitor in front of him, stepping into the sitting room,

"Oh, hello Vera. You finally managed to make Inquisitor, huh?" He asked. Vera blinked owlishly at the paladin, hardly believing her luck,

"As I live and breathe. What in Moradin's name are you doing here Forhoksson? Last I heard you went on a five year expedition to Khull." She exclaimed. Gruk grunted as he sat in his favourite chair by the fire, eyeing the young woman warily,

"You know each other?” he asked. Yoruk turned to the blacksmith and nodded,

"Aye, Vera was the one who convinced me to go into training as a paladin." He explained. The younger man turned his attention back to Vera,

"I ken ye were away for a bit to deal with some family stuff, so you missed out on a lot. I'm here because Gruk and Morag offered me a place to stay once I came back. My mother decided to disown me not long after I proposed to Merri, so I can't exactly go back there."

Vera's eyes went wide. The last time she and Yoruk had seen each other, he'd mentioned falling for one of the acolytes he'd noticed in combat training, but that had been the last she'd heard about it. Now he was telling her that the girl he'd fallen for – and had since proposed to – was the same young woman that she'd helped to wrongly arrest for treason and heresy? She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was one thing to have to speak to Meredith’s parents, it was quite another to have to inform her fiance about what had transpired. Vera was shaken out of her thoughts by another, feminine voice, piping up from the door to the hall,

“Och, Gruk, the least you could’ve done was offer the poor lassie a drink.” Morag chastised, waddling into the sitting room and sitting heavily on the sofa next to Yoruk. Yoruk clapped a hand to his forehead,

“Sorry, I was the last one in the kitchen, and I didn’t think.” he groaned, “Let me get that sorted out.” he offered. Vera vehemently shook her head,

“No, please, you honestly don’t need to go to such trouble.” she said quickly, feeling a wave of nervous nausea hit her upon realising that Morag was several months pregnant. No, there was no way she could do this. Not if she became responsible for anything happening here.

Morag sighed softly and shook her head, noticing that the younger woman had gone very pale under her beard and had started to hyperventilate,

“It’s alright, hen. We already ken that this is probably about Meredith.” she said. Yoruk snapped his head around to stare in confusion at the middle aged woman,

“Wait… why does this have anything to do with Meredith?” he asked slowly, “ I know I only showed up an hour ago but-” he cut off as Morag shook her head,

“We’ll explain everything that’s been going on shortly, son. I want to know what yer friend wants to tell us first, then we can backtrack.” he told him patiently. Yoruk’s mouth twisted into an unhappy grimace, but he nodded and sat back, his gaze sweeping over to Vera.

Vera shrank back at the expectant looks on everyones’ faces. She slowly took out the journal Meredith had handed to her, swallowing thickly before taking a deep breath and staring between Morag and Yoruk’s heads.

“Given your reaction to my appearance at the door, I believe that you know there’s something up.” she said, glancing over to Gruk. The smith nodded, crossing his arms over his chest,

“Aye.” he snorted, “Given that the Toreguarde situation is all anybody’s been talking about for the last few months, I figured you were the sorry sod sent to give us an update.” Vera grimaced,

“Not exactly.” she said, her voice low. “I’m not actually here on official business by any means, but I am here to tell you about what’s going with regards to your daughter.” Morag tilted her head in confusion, while both Gruk and Yoruk’s faces fell into deep frowns. Vera’s heart hammered as she looked around the room,

“What was the last thing you heard?” she asked. Morag huffed another sigh, rubbing at her swollen belly anxiously,

“The last we heard from Father Ragnarsson was that Merri was back in Toreguarde and about to face off against Darkhide with her friends. We did hear, through the vein, that Darkhide had been defeated and his army routed, but we’ve had no word otherwise.” Vera ignored the stunned look on Yoruk’s face to stare at Morag in confusion,

“Nothing at all?” she asked, voice strained. Morag shook her head again. It was at this point that Gruk spoke up,

“We figured she was just busy sorting things out in the aftermath, but that was more’n a month ago. We expected that we would have received a message of some sort about how she was. To be honest, it’s starting to make us wonder if… ye ken.” he said, voice cracking. Vera looked at the despondent father and sent him a tight smile,

“On a positive note, Meredith is currently alive and well.” she said, her own voice starting to quaver.

“Positive note? ‘Currently’ alive and well?” Yoruk growled dangerously, “I’ve no idea what in the bloody Pit is going on, but you better start talking.” Vera’s took in a deep breath and whooshed it out again,

“That was the good news. The bad news is that, apparently, the High Inquisitor has reason to believe that Meredith is guilty of treason against the crown and heresy against the church.” She said slowly, “Now, I know for a fact that whatever charges he’s put against her are complete codswallop, but he put out a warrant for her arrest about a week ago.” Vera paused a moment to allow the information to sink in. All three dwarves had gone very pale and Gruk currently looked like he wanted to break something. Yoruk simply looked confused,

“Why does Firetome even believe such nonsense?” he asked plaintively.Vera blinked, before recalling that Yoruk had only recently arrived back in Fangthane himself. She shook her head,

“Firetome got elected to the position of Archlector after Vanskleig passed a couple of months ago. He named Garl Grimbeard High Inquisitor not long after.” she explained. Morag huffed a stressed sigh,

“We knew about that appointment already. To be fair, we weren’t entirely happy with that announcement, but what reason has he to believe that Merri is a heretic of all things?” she asked. Vera shook her head,

“I don’t know. All I can say is that, apparently, Grimbeard has some sort of major Grudge against your daughter.”

“Grudge or no, he needs some bloody evidence and he better have it. Thank Throff Merri’s no’ come home in that case.” Gruk grumbled, “As scared as I am that she’s o’er in Toreguarde, given the rumours that have come back about the place recently, I shudder to think what Grimbeard would do to her if she showed up at the front door of the mount now.” Vera snapped her mouth shut at Gruk’s words. Yoruk – who had been staring at Vera in disbelief as he processed what he’d just been told – narrowed his eyes again,

“Inquisitor Darkbek,” he said, voice low in warning, “have you anything else you want to share?” Morag brought her hand to her mouth, eyes brimming,

“Oh, she hasn’t?” she whispered. Vera closed her eyes briefly before turning to the older woman, her vision clouded by her own tears,

“We got word that she’d been spotted in the mount about three days ago.” she said, voice strained, “She must’ve found out about the arrest warrant because she managed to avoid capture for two days. She was eventually caught skulking around the Contemplation Chamber earlier this morning.”

“And you’re the sorry sod they sent to tell us.” Gruk groaned, placing his head in one of his hands, rubbing at his temple. Yoruk growled again, gripping the arms of his chair and causing the wood to creak ominously,

“I’m not just gonna sit here while-” he was cut off by Vera rounding on him and Dispelling the divine magic he’d unconsciously started to gather around him. The Inquisitor glared at him for a moment before relaxing once more,

“I’m sorry Forhoksson, but I can’t let you.” she said, “Storming over there and making demands will only make matters worse. Besides, I’m not actually here on official business.” Gruk’s head snapped up and everyone else stared at the young Inquisitor,

“Then why..?” Gruk asked, trailing off. Vera picked up the journal Meredith had given her,

“When I went to give Meredith her meal, she told me to give this to you. Apparently there’s a reason Grimbeard has a Grudge against her, and her account as to why is in here.” she explained, handing a wide-eyed Morag the leather-bound book. Morag’s expression softened as she ran her fingers over the cover,

“If this has her account of any wrongdoing on Grimbeard’s part, then surely it can be used as evidence against her arrest?” she asked. Vera shook her head,

“I don’t know.” Vera admitted, “However, in order to even get an arrest warrant, Grimbeard needed to have had some other evidence. I doubt an account written by Meredith would be taken as sufficient proof since she hasn’t brought anything else with her aside from some personal belongings.” Yoruk drummed his fingers absentmindedly,

“I’ve no idea what else mo goal has been up to, but since she’s apparently made some friends over in Toreguarde, can’t we ask them to bring the evidence we need here?” he asked. Gruk was the first to answer,

“Not unless we want to get in a heap o’ trouble with the law ourselves.” he said wearily, “Toreguarde’s been placed on the Fangthane’s official Book O’ Grudges and the whole population has been expressly forbidden from going anywhere near the place or contacting anyone that might still be there.” he smiled mirthlessly at the paladin, “A lot went on while ye were away, lad. Not a lot of it good.” Vera sighed and nodded,

“Mr Ovaksson has the right of it, Yoruk. I’d be obligated to arrest you if you tried. Besides, Meredith herself said she didn’t want to get them involved. She said they had enough on their plates as it was.” she added. Morag rubbed at her belly again with a soft smile,

“Aye, that’s Merri all over. Utterly selfless to a fault” she sighed. The middle aged woman opened her eyes and looked up at Vera with a curious expression, “I have to wonder then, why you came to tell us all this?” she pondered. Yoruk raised an eyebrow at the statement, as did Gruk. Vera squirmed a bit at the expectant stares she was getting,

“Because it’s the right and just thing to do.” She replied, “Despite a lack of evidence on Meredith’s part, I know that she’s done nothing wrong and that her arrest is a result of some sort of corruption in the higher echelons of the church and/or council.” Yoruk crossed his arms over his chest and nodded,

“Glad to know we’re on the same team then.” he stated, “So, what’s the plan for taking down about half our church’s leadership then?” he asked. Vera stared at him for a moment, before feeling a gentle warmth near her heart,

It’s the best chance you have.

“Well, we’re going to need to get a few more people involved.” she said. Morag chuckled and gestured to Gruk to get himself into the kitchen while she hauled herself up and went off to grab a corkboard for the two younger dwarves to use. Gruk grumbled and stalked off where he was bid while Yoruk and Vera sat on the floor pulling out scrolls of blank parchment, quills and ink.

#aquadestinyswriting #writeblrcafe #titan fighting fantasy #fangthane's folly and the anvil's fall #ironforge clan

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