Goldforge's travels
- orangetree
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Epic as always. You have such talent and skill.
Re: Goldforge's travels
When in doubt, smash things with a hammer.
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Re: Goldforge's travels
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
Re: Goldforge's travels
Don't forget a nice refreshing drink after. Nice work.
12.August.2015: Never forget.
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Nursing a beer right now. Thanks!
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
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Re: Goldforge's travels
As he made his way down the dark empty hall, Golinar’s footsteps echoed and gradually died in the dust. A cobweb swayed slightly in a subterranean draft. He halted and took an eye measurement of the distance to the corner. Ten feet, twenty feet...the black chalk scratched the parchment as he drew the turn of the corridor ahead of him. He looked back and double checked the distance behind him before continuing. Around the corner, the pillared corridor stretched straight ahead. He took a new measurement. He drew. Then he went on into the darkness.
He'd been going for several hours now. The southern and eastern sections were finished. The wells, the guard rooms, the forges...all the desolation that once was Kanaglym. The vast emptiness seemed to bespeak the life that once had teemed within these halls. The silence was only occasionally broken by the low voices and shuffling steps of the vilquari as they moved about, hushed by the oppressive sense of calamity long past. Despite the threat this strange gathering constituted, they had proved true companions, and they were in some way united against the same evil that had destroyed Kanaglym.
He wondered who had wandered these halls in the intervening years. When did kin last tread here? What eyes before his had spied the grim traces of what once had been, never to be again? Not even the most hard hearted mountain dwarf who saw this could have gone unmoved when confronted with this total negation of the strength and creativity of his people. But likely no dwarf had set foot here in a long time. The drow and the horrid driders that they had driven out were ample evidence of the danger pressing in on all sides, even after all these years. What light the dwarves of Kanaglym had lit in these halls had been snuffed out by the Underdark, encroaching with the same creeping violence as at Bhaerynden, Shanatar and Delzoun before...everywhere dwarves delved and created life and structure, envious beings had followed, destroying, consuming. Everywhere this insidious evil that was gnawing at the very roots of the world.
His heart had begun to grasp the dark secret that lay buried in the depths. The elusive truth that hid from the crystalline lights of Sundabar. It was like a force that had drawn him out of his clan halls in his youth and early maturity, ever further away from hearth and safety. And here in Kanaglym he was finally confronted with it in all its naked cruelty. And what it told him was this: that all the world swirled around a darkness in the center of things, a vortex towards all was drawn, and into which all would be swallowed up, if not for the constant straining against it.
This darkness at the core of the world was what his soul had sensed unconsciously, long ago. It lay intertwined in the lines of the lays he had studied as a young dwarf with the skalds in Sundabar. It was what he had seen in the eyes of veterans as they came back from campaign in the deeps. It was the undertone to the Sonnlinor’s chant. It was against this that the foundations of his entire culture was set to defend; thus the constant building, forging, shaping of things. The creation of structure to defy the void. The resounding defiance of emptiness and chaos.
Now it all made sense. The stolid dwarven traditions, the stoic inflexibility, all the things that had suffocated him as a young beardling and made him long for the lowlands. Something like a deep racial memory of thousands of years past welled up within him. Apparently he had had to travel to the ends of the earth, to the stars even, to find this. He could sense something changing in him. The constant hunger for dwarven history had brought him to this point, and faced with this knowledge it was impossible to look away. He had to take a stand. He would have to become a link in the great shirt of mail that guarded dwarven existence. His searching days were over. His task would now be defend, in every sense, dwarven life on Faerun. The only way to survive was to actively strive. The only way.
He'd been going for several hours now. The southern and eastern sections were finished. The wells, the guard rooms, the forges...all the desolation that once was Kanaglym. The vast emptiness seemed to bespeak the life that once had teemed within these halls. The silence was only occasionally broken by the low voices and shuffling steps of the vilquari as they moved about, hushed by the oppressive sense of calamity long past. Despite the threat this strange gathering constituted, they had proved true companions, and they were in some way united against the same evil that had destroyed Kanaglym.
He wondered who had wandered these halls in the intervening years. When did kin last tread here? What eyes before his had spied the grim traces of what once had been, never to be again? Not even the most hard hearted mountain dwarf who saw this could have gone unmoved when confronted with this total negation of the strength and creativity of his people. But likely no dwarf had set foot here in a long time. The drow and the horrid driders that they had driven out were ample evidence of the danger pressing in on all sides, even after all these years. What light the dwarves of Kanaglym had lit in these halls had been snuffed out by the Underdark, encroaching with the same creeping violence as at Bhaerynden, Shanatar and Delzoun before...everywhere dwarves delved and created life and structure, envious beings had followed, destroying, consuming. Everywhere this insidious evil that was gnawing at the very roots of the world.
His heart had begun to grasp the dark secret that lay buried in the depths. The elusive truth that hid from the crystalline lights of Sundabar. It was like a force that had drawn him out of his clan halls in his youth and early maturity, ever further away from hearth and safety. And here in Kanaglym he was finally confronted with it in all its naked cruelty. And what it told him was this: that all the world swirled around a darkness in the center of things, a vortex towards all was drawn, and into which all would be swallowed up, if not for the constant straining against it.
This darkness at the core of the world was what his soul had sensed unconsciously, long ago. It lay intertwined in the lines of the lays he had studied as a young dwarf with the skalds in Sundabar. It was what he had seen in the eyes of veterans as they came back from campaign in the deeps. It was the undertone to the Sonnlinor’s chant. It was against this that the foundations of his entire culture was set to defend; thus the constant building, forging, shaping of things. The creation of structure to defy the void. The resounding defiance of emptiness and chaos.
Now it all made sense. The stolid dwarven traditions, the stoic inflexibility, all the things that had suffocated him as a young beardling and made him long for the lowlands. Something like a deep racial memory of thousands of years past welled up within him. Apparently he had had to travel to the ends of the earth, to the stars even, to find this. He could sense something changing in him. The constant hunger for dwarven history had brought him to this point, and faced with this knowledge it was impossible to look away. He had to take a stand. He would have to become a link in the great shirt of mail that guarded dwarven existence. His searching days were over. His task would now be defend, in every sense, dwarven life on Faerun. The only way to survive was to actively strive. The only way.
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
Re: Goldforge's travels
ohwow.
Re: Goldforge's travels
DD approved, carry on.
(Oh, wait. It's not my call. HDM please?)
(Oh, wait. It's not my call. HDM please?)
<paazin>: internet relationships are really a great idea
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Check out the explosion by that boot?
Not a boot. A Dwarven trap detector. Guaranteed, never fails.
Not a boot. A Dwarven trap detector. Guaranteed, never fails.
ALFA NWN2 PCs: Rhaggot of the Bruised-Eye, and Bamshogbo
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Last edited by Twin Axes on Thu Mar 13, 2014 3:32 am, edited 4 times in total.
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
Re: Goldforge's travels
omg that's amazing.
I would like to know if you'd be interested in selling that painting to me TA?
I would like to know if you'd be interested in selling that painting to me TA?
*Grand Master of Cheese*
[causk] ((play games over the internet?)) yea, wouldnt recommend that. internet is for porn and weird people.
[DarkHin] There is always a tenth spot for evil.
[causk] ((play games over the internet?)) yea, wouldnt recommend that. internet is for porn and weird people.
[DarkHin] There is always a tenth spot for evil.
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Umm, sure. Shoot me a pm.
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana
Re: Goldforge's travels
Thats really great, Twin Axes.
Heero just pawn in game of life.
12.August.2013: Never forget.
15.December.2014: Never forget.
The Glorious 12.August.2015: Always Remember the Glorious 12th.
12.August.2013: Never forget.
15.December.2014: Never forget.
The Glorious 12.August.2015: Always Remember the Glorious 12th.
- Brokenbone
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Nice stuff. It's good to have a hobby + talent + fans eh? Keep it up man!
ALFA NWN2 PCs: Rhaggot of the Bruised-Eye, and Bamshogbo
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
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Re: Goldforge's travels
Yeah, it keeps me occupied. Thanks guys.
"[T]he dwarvern people, are machine-like, and it is impossible to reason with a machine." - Susana