The Funeral Train from Dargis to Zerdargia

[Firebird]

Timestamp: The Second Brightening, in the Month of Pontius, in the Season of Winter, Era I of the Celestine Mandate, Era XV Post Fractum.

The sad cortage moved slowly along the road to Zerdargia, mourners following the wagons carrying the bodies of the three dead miners and their families. The wives and children quietly sobbed as members of the Honor squad of the Dargis militia marched beside them. Coulter and the friends of the families walked somberly behind them. These were the family and clan affiliations Coulter had been seeking. Never was the brotherhood of dwarves more evident than in times of distress and grief.

Coulter was walking beside a young red-bearded dwarf who began to tell Coulter of the clan affiliations of the Dargians. He introduced himself as Colin Coppersmith of the clan Coppersmith. The Coppersmith clan and Osborne clan had been bound in fealty in the time of the great kings of Dargis. Smaller clans which became part of their heritage were the Millun and Dugan clans. "Them boys there," he pointed to the wooden coffins, "them are Osborne and Dugans. They have worked together for hundreds of patterns. When the great war came, they were the ones who ran deep into the inner caverans of the underground city. Yeah, they thought they'd destroyed the City, but they only destroyed the large mercantile area. We let the high dwarves think we were destroyed, but we weren't. They got the king and his family, but not us. Yeah, we showed them, someday we'll hoist a few and I'll tell you more."

Sadness made Colin loose tongued, and Coulter was a man of substance. The young dwarf, whose cousin was one of the deceased, shook his head. "It wasn't like this before, but when we opened Dargis for trade, the vultures began to descend. What they couldn't take by force, we ended up giving them. Oh, there's still some clan mines, but its always a struggle to compete with 'em. One day we'll throw them out ... by Cetheron. Someday.

The road along which they traveled had fewer travelers than usual, and as they came across stragglers, they joined them. The merchant convoys which passed them on their way to Dargis, had either militia guards escorting them, or mercenaries. One large group of Saurid mercenaries were guarding a large convoy of fine Zerdargian ale, which was the delicious ale Coulter had sampled at the Hole in the Wall Tavern.

The young dwarf continued his monologue with Coulter. "Yes, about two cycles ago a wagon convoy of foodstuffs and ale disappeared not far from here. They found the drivers and rousters laying right by the side of the road. Not a drop of blood on them. No wounds, darndest thing you ever saw. Only thing was that their eyes was all open, just staring into air. Didn't even know they was dead until they tried to rouse them. Petrified they was and never a breath could they draw from any of them."
The young dwarf shook his head. "never heard of anything like it."

[Coulter Minith]

It seemed to be such a glories and beautiful brightening to perform the task of taken the bodies of loved ones to their funeral, or at least these were the thoughts and feelings of the black-bearded dwarf named Coulter Minith. However perhaps the lack of snow and rain upon this winter’s brightening was in fact Cetheron, God of the Dwarfs, showing his own feelings about the unnecessary death of three of his children, and trying in some small way to bring some comfort to the dead dwarfen miners’ families and friends. Perhaps it was just plain old luck, the four-foot tall dwarfen adventurer knew, or at the very least prayed, that such a meeting was many eras in the future.

While thinking these thoughts, the harden dwarfen warrior seemed to any casual observer to be in his own little world of grief, perhaps contemplating and thinking about his own life and how many kinsmen and friends would turn up for his own funeral. However, such dark and pointless thoughts were not meant for such a brightening, when the bodies of loved ones were to be returned to Cetheron, and as such the young dwarfen male’s thoughts and attention soon returned to what his newest, in a long line of travelling companions were saying.

It came as quite a surprise to Coulter Minith to learn about what was really happening in the Mines of Dargis below his feet, from dwarfs no less, whom had lived and worked in them for countless eras. As for the news that the few roads leading to Zerdargia were suddenly dangerous and infected with bandits was certainly news to well-travelled dwarfen adventurer; perhaps this problem was in some way due to the conflict occurring in the South between the Imperial Legions and the numerous hordes of the evil and battle harden greenskins.

With this newest piece of information in mind, and now knowing about the threat facing the small caravan train, Coulter Minith would begin scanning the surrounding countryside looking for the tell-tale signs of troop movements, even bandits showed signs of their movements, or anywhere that looked like a potential sight for an ambush. While doing this, the young dwarfen warrior would continue to listen to the talk of his fellow travellers, noting anything of interest that might be said.

[Firebird]

A funeral train was not something anyone would ever think would attract attention, however, several hours earlier, another train of goods left Dargis which was of importance. Gold ore, ready to be smeltered was on its way to Studdard Brothers smelter right outside of Zerdargia. In that case thousands of crowns could very well be residing in that golden ore.

Around the bend the road began its short descent into the heart of the Dolwoods. Up ahead the mourners could not see that the wagons of ore were stopped. On the ground beside the wagons lay 6 dwarfs, all stiff as a board. A hooded figure appeared out of the forest. Unbeknown to travelers a sinister force within the forest was beginning to act his revenge upon the citizens of Centripax province. This time the wagons were still there, however, the ore had disappeared.

As the funeral train approached, they saw the wagons stopped. Pulling to a stop beside the wagons, one of the drivers leapt down and went to see what was wrong. At first the mourners walking behind the wagons noticed nothing. However, when the wagons stopped, Coulter was able to see that the drivers were looking at something on the ground.

[Coulter Minith]

With the eye of a professional soldier, or a former soldier’s eye in this case, Coulter Minith instantly noticed the half-dozen dead bodies of his fellow dwarfen brethren and kinsmen littered around the abandoned wagons upon the road ahead. Upon seeing these dead dwarfen bodies, or any bodies for that matter, Coulter Minith reacted in the manner his basic drill sergeants in the Daltina Armed Forces had trained him to react, and the four-foot tall dwarf swiftly placed himself into a defensive position in order to not only defend himself, but his felloe travellers as well.

With a speed only gained through countless candlemarks and brightening of training and practice upon the training field, the black-bearded dwarfen warrior had hurriedly raised his metal round shield, upon which was the crest of Daltina, to cover the majority of his dwarfen body. In conjunctions with this action, the young dwarf had also placed his free right-hand, his shield being held by his left, and grasped the handle of his left sheathed short-sword. With a hand upon one of his two short-swords and his already heavily armoured person, Coulter Minith was wearing his trusted vest of maille under his black-shirt, was further guarded by his metal round shield.

Now as prepared as he could be in the current situation, Coulter Minith began to graze around the scene of robbery and destruction, trying to figure out what had occurred some short time ago. It was obvious to the young dwarfen adventurer that another merchant/supply wagon train from Dargis to Zerdargia had been intercepted and robbed, but something just didn’t seem right to Coulter Minith.

The attack seemed, at least to the young dwarf, to have been perfectly planned and executed for like of simply bandits, even professional bandits. Although he wasn’t too sure about what had been transported in them, Coulter Minith could see that the number of wagons and the number of dead just didn’t match. It all the other wagons teams the young dwarf had seen that brightening had been heavily guarded by either local militia like his own, or by hired mercenaries like the Saurid. Therefore it was clear to the black-bearded dwarf that either this particular wagon had been seriously too poorly guarded, which could possible be the cause or prisoners in one form or another had been taken, more likely thought the young dwarf.

With the ease of someone whom knew what it was like to command troops, Coulter Minith quickly began issuing orders to his fellow travellers. ‘Quickly search around as see if ye can find any clues to whom has killed r kinsmen, and if they around any more bodies…’ It was at the point that Coulter Minith noticed the hooded figure appearing from the Dolwood and would instantly reacted to its presence. ‘Halt and identify yeself, there has been murder done here, and aye wish to speak with ye about it.’ With these words, the former dwarfen soldier would appear the hooded figure still in his defensive position.

[Firebird]

Responding to Coulter's words, the cloaked man let his hood slip down and Coulter saw an aged elf with long silver gray hair and a rugged countenance. The countenance was sad, and before Coulter could say more, he held up his hand in peace. The elf knew he was in dwarven territory, however, something had called him to this area of the Dolwoods, so he meant to make peace with the dwarven warrior.

"Searle," he said, "my name is Cletus and I am also wondering what has happened. I came upon these wagons and these six men only moments before you. I am from Natura, a Master Druid, and I have suspected there is something wrong with the forest for some time. That is why I am here. I have been trying to gather clues as to what is disturbing the forest. The Dolwoods are always mysterious, but this is different."

The old man just shrugged a little, he seemed as bewildered as the others as to what had happened here.

Coulter could read the side of the wagons now, and it was no surprise to him that the name on the Wagons was Studdard Mining Company. Upon further examination there were flecks of golddust in the wagons, so it was obvious that they had contained ore.

The two wagons had apparantly had only 3 men on each one, as there seemed no other bodies around. It was probably possible that the stingy Gard had not contracted any other workers for the journey, or more armed guards. It was instantly apparent to Coulter that four of the six men were armed guards as they were decked out in light armour and heavily armed. The other two appeared to just be drivers.

[Coulter Minith]

‘A pointy eared elf…why by Cetheron’s hairy beard has it always got to be an elf?’ these simple but true thoughts were quickly running through the young dwarfen warrior’s mind as he slowly scanned the area surrounding the attack; taken in all the available information like the gold dust and to whom the wagons belonged. It wasn’t that Coulter Minith was totally against elves, he was quite positive that there had to be a useful one somewhere, but he couldn’t help thinking, and being, the way he was…a dwarf from his helmet to his boot feet.

This depressingly familiar scene of dead dwarfs and mysterious elves, or elf in this case, turning up out of the blue seemed to be a scene repeated countless times throughout the history of the Aelyrian Empire and beyond. However, the dwarf in Coulter Minith, which there was a whole lot of, couldn’t help noticing a simple, repeating pattern whenever these scenes are played out; it was always the Children of Cetheron whom seemed to be the ones going to face their makers, and never, never ever the elves. As the old dwarfen saying goes, you can only smile in the face of an avalanche.

Therefore with the gift of warning from his ancient ancestor’s sacrifice, the young black-bearded dwarf would be very weary of this ‘druid elf’ until the actions of the elf showed his true nature, and whether or not Cletus had anything to do with the deaths of the young dwarfen adventurer’s kinsmen and brethren. As another old dwarfen saying goes, just because a duck looks and acts like a sheep doesn’t make it a sheep. With warning of old, and ancient dwarfen saying rolling around in his well-helmeted head, Coulter Minith would appear the elfin druid with caution, leaving the proper investigation to the leader of the Dargis militia.

Hopefully walking the short distance between himself and the Cletus safely and without incident, and being face-to-face as it was with the elf, Coulter Minith would ask in his usual low rumbling voice. ‘Serale to ye Cletus of Natura and of the Forest. Aye be Coulter Minith, may aye ask what ye re doing so far from home, and what ye investigation have so far uncovered?’

[Firebird]

Cletus nodded to Coulter, then went over to the prone dwarfs. These men are not dead, he said, standing up after examining one. They have been dealt dark magic, though not by a Master Necromancer. I would say no higher than an adept. Summoning his arcana he moved from one dwarf to another until they all had roused. The dwarves stood up and looked around at all the people. They seemed dazed, then upon seeing the elven druid raised their weapons against him. The druid stepped back and in an instant was gone from sight, but not before telling Coulter. Should you need me, I can be found.

[Coulter Minith]

At the reviving of the recently ‘dead’ dwarfen guards and drivers at the hands of the elfin druid, Coulter Minith could have smiled at this futurist turn of events. Perhaps Cetheron, God of the Dwarfs, in his immeasurable wisdom and kindness towards his favourite children, had for some unknown reason aid his children once more using a very unusual source; an elf. Never the less, whatever the reason a few less dead dwarfen kinsmen was something not to be snide at, and perhaps for once in his short six decades of life, Coulter Minith had finally met an elf that was useful.

However fortunate the young black-bearded dwarf was to see such a miracle as bringing the ‘dead’ back to life, which was how it appeared to the un-knowledgeable about acrana dwarf, this miracle also, caused a problem/debt for the young dwarfen warrior. Although not blood relatives of the returned dwarfs, Coulter Minith like every dwarf within the Aelyrian Empire and beyond where all related in one way or another by blood, and as such every member of the dwarfen race were kinsmen.

In the dwarfen community, which was a community based on a warrior’s society, a blood debt, for lack of a better word, was usually a very important event, and by saving the life of these six dwarfs the dwarfen race was now indebted to Cletus. Being in debt to anyone, especially an elf was not something Coulter Minith was totally happy with, and like any self-respecting dwarf, the four-foot tall dwarf knew that this debt would cost him dear in the future to come.

Things, however, was happening before this ‘blood debt’ could be explained to the elfin druid, he was currently disappearing from sight. Therefore with the revived dwarfs coming round, the four-foot tall dwarfen warrior would appear them and gather their stories, or as much as they could remember, about the ambush and what/who had attack them.

[Firebird]

As the formerly prone dwarfs came to their senses, Coulter found out after questioning them that they were not able to tell him much. It seems that a figure draped in a long black cloak had been standing in the road, stopping the front wagon. They did not see his face. After that they remembered nothing. In fact, they thought that the elvin druid was the one.

When Coulter told them that the Druid had revived them, they were astounded. They had no idea what had become of the gold ore, but were frightened to go back to Dargis with their sad tale.

[Coulter Minith]

Events just seemed to get more and more confusing for the young black-bearded dwarf after hearing the tale of fellow dwarfs. At the start of this brightening, Coulter Minith had been but a simple traveller journeying to the dwarfen City of Zerdargia to confront four dwarfen brothers about a tale of part of the Dolwood disappearing. Somehow, the young dwarf wasn’t too sure how, he had got mixed up in a series of mysteries the like of which Coulter Minith had not known in his short six decades of life.

Like the majority of long-lived races within Aelyria, the young dwarfen male found the endless eras to be somewhat boring, and like any good dwarf Coulter Minith would find and take any excitement that he could; there was nothing more the former Prefect of Daltina liked than a good old mystery.

Therefore with his mind made up to investigate this supposed ‘druid’ and what was/who was really doing the ambushing around the Dolwood, the four-foot tall dwarfen adventurer would turn to the rest of the recently enlarged group and say. ‘By Cetheron’s beard things seem to get more and more confusing when ye deal with any member of the pointy eared race. Right aye’m going in there,’ a quickly raised short-sword interacted the Dolwood, ‘if any of ye wish to come with me, ye be welcomed. But remember our fallen kinsmen need honouring and buried in the tombs of their forefathers, and that task is more important than chasing after tree-huggers all brightening…so decide.’

Without waiting to see whom, if anyone was accompanying him, the brave little warrior would approach the mysterious trees of the Dolwood with a whole lot of apprehension and not a little bit of terror. This apprehension and terror was quite the natural reaction for anyone, but especially a dwarf, upon approaching the Dolwood. Given the reputation and magical nature of the Dolwood, combined with its history and the numerous dwarfen deaths its creation caused, anyone with any sense would have some apprehension at entering its shadowy darkness.

However to a dwarf whom had seen the horrors of Malice, a trip into any wood, even a magical wood like the Dolwood, wasn’t that dangerous…was it? With a deep, slow breath, which for all Coulter Minith knew could be his last; the young dwarf would step into the tree line of the Dolwood to begin a new adventure.

[Firebird]

Coulter advanced several hundred yards on a path that appeared before him. Deep into the woods, the tree canopy blocked out the little sun there was on that wintery day. He realized that the cold icy drops from moisture in the dark woods, was making his limbs go numb with cold. If he had been a little less hasty, he would have realized that inside the womb of the magical realm, it would be hard to find his way. If he would have turned around he would see that the path he had traveled had disappeared and now there was forked path before him. Should he go left or right was his decision to make.

[Coulter Minith]

The Children of Cetheron was another common name for the dwarfen race within Aelyria, use both by themselves and non-dwarfs alike. Now most of these non-dwarfen races, and therefore uninformed races, thought this common phase came about due to the fact that the dwarfen race was created by Cetheron countless eras ago; which was quite correct and true. However, the dwarfen race were called the Children of Cetheron, by themselves, because they saw themselves as a smaller version of Cetheron, or the Ethereal Warrior as he was known within certain parts of Aelyria.

Now to most sentient races within Aelyria, perhaps even the mighty Aelyrian race of ancient ages, the prospect of entering an unknown magical realm, and than starting to feel numb through the cold, or perhaps through other unnatural means, would have worried the average adventurer. However, Coulter Minith was as dwarfen as a dwarf could be in these troubling times. To a race that had conquered the darkness of the underdark, had scaled the highest of mountains, and faced and defeated the countless hordes of the orcish nations of old, any thoughts of being defeated by a wood created by cowardly elfin magic, didn’t even enter the bearded skull of Coulter Minith.

Having faith not only in his own abilities, but in what his creator, Cetheron, had planned for him, the young four-foot dwarf decided to go left at the fork in the road. There were no apparent differences between both paths facing the young dwarf, so in his mind one way seemed as good as the other. So with a smile on his bearded face, and tighten the fingers around the hilt of his short-sword, the short legs of the young adventurer began walking in a mile eating march of a veteran soldier on the march to war.

[Firebird]

If Coulter had had any sensitivity at all to magikal things, he would have noticed that as he passed the trees and plantlife they all seemed to be hypervigilent. From the stoic little dwarf they had no fear, however, for like a druid could detect intentions so also had they detected that the little warrior was innocent from any malice or guile.

As Coulter marched through the forest the way opened up before him leading him into the very bowels of its magical realm. Up ahead Coulter finally saw some sun and as he marched into the opening he realized it was unlike any place he had visited before. Before his lay a pond, as blue as the azure color of the brightest summer day. The crystal blue lake was small, no more that 200 feet round, and all around the banks there were the most beautiful exotic plants the young warrior had ever seen. The colors ranged from the scarlets of salve, to the most beautiful roses of yellow, pink and violet. Everything was vibrant and alive. The weather seemed to be summer and the trees were smaller and covered with fruit.

[Coulter Minith]

Grazing upon the natural beauty of the hidden glen within the Dolwood, even a dwarf like Coulter Minith felt a stirring of warmth within himself at such beauty. However this natural beauty was also quite wasted upon the four-foot tall dwarf. Coming from a race that found beauty in shaping the world around them to their liken, the natural untamed beauty of the hidden glen, although nice to look at, held little to no appeal to Coulter Minith who looked upon the most beautiful roses he, and perhaps anyone had ever seen before, and saw just nicely coloured flowers.

The natural beauty of the hidden glen aside, the young black-bearded dwarf knew he was truly and utterly lost within the magical realm of the Dolwood. Not only did Coulter Minith have no idea where he was in terms of a location, but given the fact that it seemed to be summer within the hidden glen, when in time he was. However, the prospect of having travelled in time, or having been teleported across the world didn’t really trouble the thoughts of the young laird of Clan Minith. This little adventure into the Dolwood to search for the ambushes of the wagon team seemed to have turned into a very strange adventurer indeed, but the young dwarf couldn’t help thinking, and strangely smiling at such thoughts, at telling his kinsmen and brethren the tale of a dwarf entering the Dolwood, getting lost and finding a place that would bring tears of joy to the eyes of an elf.

Having been journeying for what seemed quite sometime now, both from the hidden dwarfen city of Dargis and his short adventure into the Dolwood, Coulter Minith upon finding this tranquil glen decided to rest for a few short moments here before continuing his adventure. Therefore the young dwarf would appear the crystal blue lake trying not to destroy any of the beautiful flowers surrounding it.

After checking to see there were no hidden dangers within its depth, the experienced dwarfen adventurer knowing he had no idea when he would find water again, would drink his fill from the water of the blue lake. Now the idea of drinking from an unknown water source would have turned the insides of many races within Aelyria, but Coulter Minith was a dwarf and as such was willing to drink from the blue waters of the lake within hesitating and worrying about how clean it was. This unfaltering came about more from the believe that his natural dwarfen resistance to poison and disease would combat any such agents in the water, than any foolishness on his part.

With hopefully his thirst gone, the young black-bearded dwarf would continue grazing around the small glen looking for any clue as to where to go next, or for anything of interest.

[Firebird]

The little dwarf had again walked into a situation in which his lack of knowledge or caution invited disaster. The pond from which he drank was from an underground magical source. So while he did not notice the effects of something immediately, a change in him had occurred. Now the pond did not contain any poisonous substance, but it was something no dwarf in the history of Aelyria had drank.

To his left he noticed a rift in the fabric of this