A Land Far Away

Orengard set down the heavy bar of unworked steel on top of the pile of others like it, that stood beside the yawning, hellish portal to one of the great forges. she pushes a lock of her brown hair back from her sweat soaked forehead and tries to stretch the kinks from her young back. She, and the other apprentices, of the halls armor and weapon smiths, are hurriedly transporting ore, coal, and raw steel to where the master and journeymen smiths work hurriedly over the anvils. Today there are no classes, no instruction on the finer points of the making of armor or axe. Today the smiths wear dark expressions and if they speak to the Apprentices it is a sharp rebuke to move faster, to bring more coal. Today the halls forges are crafting for war.

Two days ago the news had come from the lower mines, Duergar, grey dwarves, were approaching. An army bent on seizing the hall for their own use, and the defenders of Deepstone hall were preparing to meet them. Already, the warriors had assembled in the upper mines setting up heavy defenses, and fortifications, sending out scurmishing parties, and engineers to rig the tunnels with deadly traps for the grey dwarves. Orengards father, Thagrin, had closed his shop, where he crafted fine cross-bows, and had joined the defenders below. Orengard knew she had nothing to fear from the grey dwarves, her father stood against them. His deadly heavy cross bow would send the grey dwarves scurrying back to there deep tunnels, or send them to there dark gods.

not wanting to feel the wrath of the short tempered smiths Orengard turned to go back for another load of bars, her eyes fell upon the door to the forge area, and she stopped. Standing in the doorway speaking to the master of apprentices was a female warrior. She wore the crimson and orange cloak of the Hearth guards, warriors of Berronar Truesilver. Orengards mother served among them, she, like the others, was sworn to defend the living section of Deepstone hall. Orengard figured the hearth guard was here checking in, as was required during times of attack, but then Orengard got a good look at her.

Her armor was spattered with blood, and her cloak was torn in several places, her helm was clamped under her arm and her hair was plastered down with sweat. As Orengard stared, too shocked to even move, the warrior, and the master of apprentices both turned and looked right at her. Orengard felt a sense of dread, as heavy as the bars of steel she had been carrying, settle in the pit of her stomach. The master of apprentices motioned for her to approach Orengard looked behind her praying he was signaling for someone else, but no one else was near her now.

Her feeling of dread deepening, and threatening to choke off her breath, Orengard slowly walked forward, until she stood in front of the warrior, and the master of apprentices. “Orengard” the master began then stopped and cleared his throte. “Orengard you will accompany this warrior. I am sorry, your mother has been wounded, and you must go to her child...there is little time.” the Master set his huge hand upon Orengards shoulder and squeezed it firmly “go on child.” Orengard looked up at the warrior, the hearth guard wore an expression of deep sadness as she held out her hand to Orengard. “Take my hand child, we must go but keep close to me.”

Orengard let herself be led from the forge, and into the main hall. The hearth guard led her across the chamber toward the tunnels that housed the clans nursery, where her little brother Nicklaus, who was just a baby went every day, just as she had, before she reached the age of apprenticeship six months ago. the fear in her stomach sent out dark tendrils to seize her heart causing it to pound against her ribs. “P..please mam.” Orengard began in a voice that trembled “what happened...are my brother and mother alright?” The warrior looked down at her “The grey dwarves managed ta slip a strike force in ta the hall using magic, they came in just outside the nursery. The hearth gards there sounded the alarm and held them until reinforcements could arrive they never set foot inside the nursery so yer brother is fine...but yer mother...The priests say there is nothin they can do. She will be with the Mother soon, she was asken fer ye.”

Orengard felt her world collapse around her. She shook her head in mute denial, her mouth open trying to find words, then she broke into a run down the tunnel, her eyes blurring with tears. she rounded the last bend and lurched to a stop bodies littered the floor. Grey dwarves, in there dusky armor lay scattered about, like a child's toy soldiers, forgotten, and broken. Here and there, a still figure wore the crimson cloak of the hearth guards. An aged priest of Moradin knelt beside one hearth guard, who was sitting against a wall. The priest touched her head, and several smaller cuts healed, and a few larger ones stopped bleeding. He began to wrap the larger cuts in bandages.

Orenguard looked franticly around, and saw her mother, lying along one wall “Mother!” Orengard ran to her, and dropped to her knees beside her, sobbing “no mother! don't go, please don't go!” Kiersha Shieldstone slowly raised her hand and stroked her daughters sweaty hair back from her face. “My girl.” she said softly “My strong strong daughter. shhh... I need ye ta listen ta me now, ken ye do that?” Orengard nodded, tears still dripping from her face “Good, now Orengard, ye need ta be a bit stronger fer me. Ye must look after yer father, and brother, when I’ve returned ta the Mother. Ye will be woman O’ the hearth now, tis yer house, keep it fer the Mother, and fer me. Ken ye do that?” “Y..yes mother.”

Kiersha smiled weakly “That's my girl.” a look of pain flickered across Kiershas face. “Now...I have...something for ye.” Kiersha reached down and lifted her battle axe from the floor beside her and pressed the weapon into Orengard’s hands. “I want...ye ta...have this...it will serve ye...as ye...serve the Mother.” Orengard took the axe in her hands, the blade still stained with grey dwarf blood, and nodded. “Oh my girl...I love ye...and I’ll...watch ye...and yer brother....tell yer father I...love.....him.” Kiersha’s hand slipped off the haft of the axe as the last spark leaves her eyes. “NO...Mother!” Orengard throws herself across her mothers chest, grasping her armor. Her sobs shaking her so hard she doesn’t feel the Hearth guard’s hand beneath her arms, trying to pull her away. “Come child. Her body must be taken ta be returned ta the stones, her soul is with the Mother.” Orengard is lifted from across her mother, and clinging to the Hearth guard she is taken home.
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Current character: Orengard Shieldstone

Very well written.

Hail to the Dwarves!

Orengard sat in a chair in front of the hearth, her little brother Nicklaus lay asleep in his cradle beside her. Orengard ran her hand along the padded arm of the chair, this had been her mothers chair until about two hours ago when her mother had died fighting to keep Nicklaus, and the other children of Deepstone hall safe from a sneak attack by a band of Duergar. Now the chair, and the entire house was Orengards. She was now keeper of the hearth, this was her mothers dying request, and she would honor it. She would take care of her father, and brother as a Keeper was supposed to, as Berronar Truesilver, the revered Mother taught her children.

Ogengard reached down to gently tuck the blanket around Nicklaus and looked into the Kitchen area of the house where a group of adults were speaking together in hushed tones. Halseth and his wife Bera, Orengard’s neighbors, an old couple who’s children had grown, and had children of there own, and several members of the Hearth guards, who had served with Orengard’s mother. Occasionally one of them would glanced in at Orengard, or at the front door. all of them, including Orengard, were waiting for her father to return from the lower tunnels, where he was helping with the main defense of the hall.

The murmered conversation in the kitchen halts, as there is a soft knock on the door, One of the hearth guards crosses the room, and opens the door, then takes a step back. “Fenar Kron?” she says, nodding to the high priest of Moradin. Fenar Kron nods in return and steps inside at her invitation. Orengard slips off the chair and walks softly over to stand in the door way of the kitchen. Fenar Kron fixes her with a level gaze, his expression unreadable beneath his bushy graying beard. the old priest walks over, and places his large hands on Orengards shoulders. She looks up into his dark eyes, and suddenly finds that she does not want to hear what the priest is about to tell her.

“Child I don’ ken how ta tell ye this...there were a fight down in the mines, the grey ones set an ambush fer our troops. Durrin the battle, several tunnels were brought down..an...yer father...he...he was in one o’ them that collapsed.” one of the hearth guards gasped softly, and Orengards neighbor covered her mouth with a trembling hand whispering “By Moradin no.” Fenor Kron gently squeezed Orengards shoulders “I am so sorry Lass...”

Orengard just stood there a moment as the meaning of the priest’s words sunk in...her father dead too...both of her parents gone just like that..leaving her and Nicklaus alone..orphaned. Orengard wanted to say something to shout out some denial to the gods that they could allow so horrible an event to happen. but the room seemed to have begun spinning like a top, blurring the faces around her until she tumbles down a great void into blackness.

Orengard opened her eyes to find herself in her own bed. she looked around and sighed...”A dream” she said to herself “That’s all it was.” she padded over to the door of her room and opened it up immediatly she heard voices from the kitchen she stepped out into the hall and stopped. Fenar Kron sat at the kitchen table with the neighbors and Sarah the hearth guard who came to get Orengard from the forge and take her to her mother. none of them had seen Orengard step out into the shadowy hall.

“The council will arrange for a family ta take the children in. Should only take a day er so.” Kron said his eyes staring into a large tankard he held before him on the table.

Bera nodded “I can look after the dears till they can be moved in with another family.”

“Nay!” At the sound of Orengards voice the adults look up. “What da ye mean Nay child.” Kron asked his voice gentle but firm. “Ye canna stay here alone. Ye have yer ‘prentiship, and yer brother needs looken after.”
Orengard stood firm meeting his look, even though tears had begun to trickle down her face. “I am k..keeper o’ this hearth like my mother wanted...I gave my promise ta my mother, and ta Berronar...and I’ll nay go back on my word. I can nay break an oath.”
Fenar Kron frowned at Orengard “Yer Nay usin yer wits girl. How da ye spect ta run a house?...yer nay but a child yerself.”

“I am not a child” orengard replied sharply “I am the woman o’ this hearth and that is how its gonna stay. I can do it. Nick is in the nursery all day. I can take him there afore I go ta the forge, and I can pick him up after my works done. I know how ta take care o’ him my mother taught me, an I can cook, and clean. and this is MY house, and I am nay goin ta any other.

Fenar Kron sighed deeply “I ken ye are able ta care for yerself, and wee Nick, but ye dina have ta. Another family..”

“NAY” Orengard shouted “I ain’t goin. and nether is Nick, and nothin ye say or do is gonna change that. I promised my Mother, and Berronar and by the Mother, I wont go back on my word.

As Fenar Kron opens his mouth to argue Sarah rests her hand upon his arm. “Fenar, it was Kiersha’s dyin wish fer Orengard ta be keeper o' this house. and the child promised on the Mother. I know she is young, but the Mother seems ta have somthin planed fer her. I say we let her stay here and look after Nicklaus. there are others that can check in and help the lass.” she looks at Bera “Aye?” Bera nods “Aye ill do all I can ta help. Fenar please let them stay.”

“The hearth guards take care o’ there own Fenar. Berronar would have it nay other way. The children will want fer nothin.” Sarah said with a proud smile at Orengard.

Fenar Kron sighed “Alright I’ll tell the council, and convince em ta let things stand.” he looked at Orengard “Lass ye got the strength o’ Moradin, and the heart o’ Berronar. yer folks would be damn proud o’ ye.
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Curent Character: Orengard Shieldstone