The Sceptre of Kings-A Heroic Dwarven Quest

491 Years Past-Spring:Jewel of the World...

Cuvaghn, Jewel of the Grentrigh Clan, most splendid of all Dwarf cities, though Temperlain would soon come to lay claim to that Crown. Let them come, Grentrigh and Temperlain had ever been allies, aiding each other in all things, War,Commerce or Exploration. Cuvaghn's streets were lined with Light and Joy, marvelous dwarvish inventions and the works of Gnome Clocksmiths, a Wonder of the World, this Great Jewel.Why, only this very Year, master Endembarl, famed Wizard and Craftsman, some say the best in all the World, had made the Sceptre of Kings for King Hembrindar Grentrigh. A priceless Artifact of the Dwarves, some say that Moradin himself had a hand in it's fashioning. It is said that those few who have seen it have wept openly, such a thing of beauty is it. Oh Joy! What a time to be a dwarf!

491 Years Past-Summer:Of Dark Eyes and Dread...

The Wyrm slept fitfully. Ages it seemed that he had slumbered, while around him the minute beings worked on their futile projects,ignorant of the dread that was He .
The Wyrm opened a Baleful Eye, he had seen IT again...The Emerald, so big, it must have been the biggest one in all the World. The Dream was like before, except that this time there was a Name, a Place...Cuvaghn. The Wyrm used Powers so Arcane as to defy the studies of the puny Crippled Wizards that Man and his ilk had spawned, summoning a Fiend.
The Fiend cowered in the Presence of the Great Wyrm.
'Cuvaghn...what is Cuvaghn...'
The Fiend winced at the soft sibilant whisper that was the Wyrm's voice 'A City, oh great and Omnipotent master...a Dwarf City to the West and South of here...three days flight, maybe four.'
A Dwarf City...it had been long since the Wyrm had feasted on Dwarf-Flesh...too long indeed.


490 Years Past...Oh Gods, how could this be?
The survivors trailed into Temperlain in terror and despair.
It had happened so fast, from beneath came the Forsaken Ones , the Grey Dwarfs and the multitudes of Goblins and Orcs...and Other things, best left unmentioned.
When the defenders of the City went to counter-attack these Foes, disaster struck. From above Orcs, thousands of Orcs came, Giants and Trolls among them. The attacks seemed coordinated, but who or what could amass such a horde? The answer came all too swift.
From the air came the Wyrm, raining Death in his wake,and commanding Sorceries of a Magnitude so as to astound Cuvaghn's Mages, the Wyrm struck. Assaulted from all sides the Dwarfs were doomed. Svirfneblin and Deep Dwarf friends did what they could to help the evacuees, and the Wizards enacted the many Portals in the city, sealing them after so that none could follow, but fully 90% of the Great Clan of Grentrigh died in those dark days...and in a darkened hall, amidst the bodies of dwarfs and dining on the children of Grentrigh a Wyrm laughed and wondered at this marvelous Jewel,which had haunted him for ages,now set in a marvelous Sceptre...

Cuvaghn-Three years Past: The Great Crusade.

They had come. They had returned. they would take back their Home.

The massed Clans of the Dwarfs had come,indeed.

Hurdrinn, their Red Standards and Banners showing the Bear that was their Totem beast waving in the brisk wind, their darkened Plate and red-claw marks upon their shields.
hammers and clawed bracers at the ready, these were fierce and true Champions of Dwarfdom.


Valkorim, the Clan of the Ram, their Technology and Warmachines, their firethrowers and bombs, green pennants arrayed along the ridge above The Sorrowful City .

Bremdarull, the Clan of the the Boar, yellow and grey pennants waving in the breeze. these were the Ragers, the Berserks and among the outlanders, they were simply known as the Giantslayers. No other Clan had taken the fight to Giantkind in such numbers, with such dedication.

Clan Grentregh, remnants of the rulers of Cuvaghn. These Dwarfs had fled to al corners of the realms, fostering allies and renewing centuries old bonds of friendship just for this day. Maps and Keys were what these dwarfsbrought to this battle, as well as their Axes,Hammers and sharp spears. Prince Onbregg Grentregh stood amongst the last vestiges of his Folk, the last of his Royal Line. he would take back his homeland, he would have the Sceptre of Kings and free his Fallen City of the filth that had come to dwell there.Blue and black pennants stood perhaps the proudest of all, for theirs was the Day, this day.

Lastly Dwarves of Temperlain were amongst the Host. Knights upon Tuskers, pennants of every color and representing many Families and Clans, for temperlain had ever been a great meltingpot of Moradin's Children.
With the Blast of a horn, they descended, fully Ten Thousand Dwarfs, a Host unheard of in the history of the Land...They would take back Cuvaghn.Take it or Die...

Cuvaghn-One Year Past: Disaster.
None are sure where or when, but the Host has awakened the Wyrm of Cuvaghn. Gods what a Horror. Hundreds died in it's initial attack. The host had been steadily defeating the Goblins, the Orcs and the Forsaken Dwarfs. they had slayed many Drow and carved out a safe niche in the Old City.It had struck just as it seemed that all was finally in favor of Moradin's Children.
The unthinkable had happened. Prince Onbregg Grentrugh was killed. The Prince, having claimed to have sighted the Sceptre of Kings, recklessly challenged the Wyrm to Single Combat. Te battle was of a foregone conclusion. Grentregh no longer has an heir, no longer has a Royal Line...

Map of the Land

Cuvaghn-The Present, first day of Spring: A Quest Reborn.

Burgain sighed and shook his head as several Dwarfs went by, carrying another batch of Dead...will these young hotheads ever learn?
Three years the Dwarfs had been back in Cuvaghn, three years Dwarves once more strode the Halls of the Ancient Clan of Grentrigh, yet had any of these 'heroes' found the Sceptre?

By Moradin's beard, there had been ...what was it ...'Umprekk, how many now, eh?' The old dwarf wiped a mug down, polishing the silver as if he had cast it himself (which he had, by Moradin).
The one-eyed oldster sweeping the Tavern looked up, scratching his bearded chin 'Moving on two 'unnerd, I reckon.'
Two hundred...two hundred dead and gone to the Halls of the Fathers...and that just in this last month.

Sure, in the first year there was a great Crusade, goblins and orcs being driven back with ferocity. Why near ten thousand Dwarfs had been there, Burgain among them...his father's Axe in hand.
Goblin blood flowed through the streets of Cuvaghn then, wiping away the stain of the Loss, near 500 hundred years earlier.
That was before...before the Dwarfs had awakened the Dragon.
Gods, what a Beast. Some say he is a Wyrm of Fire, some of Shadow...some even say he is a Deep Drake.
Burgain stopped as a Dwarf went by, crying, carrying a young Dwarf that couldn't have been older than 20....so young. The older Dwarf had the look of a Father or an Uncle and he wailed 'Why, oh Father-Under-the-Mountain...why did ye take My Enbrem so young. Damn this Quest, Damn this Place!'

Burgain nodded solemnly, he knew this Dwarf's Heart, he had seen this scene so many times in the past three years..so many times.
The door to the Tavern opened and a young Dwarf-lad ran in, excitedly panting 'New arrivals, new Heroes, from Temperlain!'
Burgain scoffed, new corpses, rather.'They'll be dead in a fortnight,lad, best not get too friendly with these Heroes...'
The lad shook his head 'But these heroes are diff'rent, they have a Map! There's a Prince among em!! Prince Alembregh of Temperlain! A Prince!'
The lad ran off to tell his news elsewhere amongst the Hold that the Dwarfs had won back from the Foes, though it was only a small part of Cuvaghn's Greatness.
A Prince, a royal Dwarf here to find the Sceptre of Kings???
Bergain yelled to Umprekk get down to the Royal Suite,One-Eye! Get that place tidied up, there's a Prince in town...and you get out that bottle of Grimple's Gold, the good one, the '54. these visitors won't be wantin swill...'
A prince...

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Not half an hour later the doors to the Tavern swung open, Dwarfs in shining mail and plate entering, one bearing a Grand Pennant. Surrounded by near two dozen Dwarfs all in the colors of Temperlain's Royal House, it's black and red. A Dwarf stepped forward and addressed Burgain, who stood with his dusty cap in his hands, twitching nervously.

'I am Gurin Fordswright, Vassal of Alembregh, son of Borudain, King of Temperlain.We will be needing lodging for nigh two score as well as for our Tuskers. We will be requiring your entire establishment for the duaration of our Stay, may Moradin grant us Success. This should suffice in securing the premises and in recompensing your displaced guests.' The dwarf Warrior tosses a bag to Burgain, who catches it with a deftness that only the truly desperate and poor possess. Opening the bag, Burgain nearly dropped it, for within shone emeralds, rubies and diamonds,enough to leave this place and start a new life somewhere else.

The Dwarf Warrior seemed to sense Burgain's thoughts
'Yes, a Fortune for you, Master Innkeeper, but heed this. When we find the Sceptre, will not your name be the one on the tongues of the Bards, as he who sheltered Alembregh the Great, the next High King? It would do you well to keep to your Inn, and indeed we insist, for we need a working Stronghold and your place was given as the most worthy by our Agents here.'

The Innkeeper grinned, perhaps Legends were true, the Sceptre would once again bring joy to a people long bereft of it.
he had much work to do. Yelling for the Oldster and the other half dozen employees, Burgain had stews simmering and ale-kegs tapped within the hour, with little Ulim (an Orphan he had taken in) off to buy loaves and mushrooms, pies and haunches of venison, hunted in the lands above. Wouldn't Zeraglim the Food-merchant be suprised when Ulim handed him the little Ruby, oh yes he would. Times were looking better already.

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And in darkened corners of the Dwarfhold even darker eyes took notice of the shining Prince, his Soldiers, the Priests, the Outlanders, Lizardfolk,Wyrm-born Elves and Brother of the Stone alike. Information was important to the Dwellers below, as well as to the rival Dwarf Clans in the City, and this was Valuable information indeed...

InnMap cming soon...

Alembregh looked around him in dismay, as his band marched into the dwarven halls of Grentrigh. The sight of dead dwarves, how sorry a fact, is something Amberlegh grow accustomed to. Every war takes casualties. But the complete and utter lack of hope and pride on the faces of those who still lived struck him deeply. What despair these dwarves must have gone through.

"We can't let this go on!" Alembregh called to his companions in a loud, bulky voice, loud enough for any bystanders to hear. "By Gorm Gulthyn's mask, let us bring the shines of hope back upon the faces of these poor dwarves by ridding Cuvaghn of this filthy beast and restore the peace they had to do without for so many centuries! For I am prince Alembregh of Temperlain, son of King Frurdoch of Temperlain and I shall not give up!"
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Alembregh nodded silently as Hembred was handling the provisions, meanwhile looking at the structure of the building. It'll certainly do for a base of operations. He walks over to his companions and notes in a low voice: Turlogh, Mohgrym, perhaps you could make a quick run through the building? I doubt you will run into anything suspicious, but we better be sure, not?

When the first rush is over, he calls: "My men and I have travelled long and far to get here and we could use refreshments. Ale for everyone!"

Burgain fawns in a doting, if not Smarmy manner Of course, Lord...your quarters are being prepared as we speak.' Burgain kicked the oldster Umprekk in the seat of his pants, the old one-eyed dwarf suddenly remembering that he was cleaning the 'Royal Suites' before being called above to the Commons. The oldster disappears, mop in hand,a Dwarf lad in tow with a bucket.

Burgain stood aside, letting these jostling Soldiers get bedded in, piles of shovels, picks, axes and hammers all piled against walls and all so well kept. Burgain suddenly felt ashamed, looking to the mantle, where his Da's Waraxe hung, a few spots of rust and grime visable upon it's surface.
While the Warband set in, the innkeep quietly took down his axe, wiping it with a rag and smiling wanely, a feeling of pride gradually creeping into his being, so long absent.
A young Dwarf wearing the Green and Gold Livery of another of the Warriors approached and handed Burgain his Oiltin, setting a spare chamise down next to it, quietly sitting at the bar and beginning to oil his short,broad sword without a word.
It seemed that Brotherhood had come once more to Cuvaghn, and perhaps a bit of Hope as well...

Alembregh nodded silently as Hembred was handling the provisions, meanwhile looking at the structure of the building. It'll certainly do for a base of operations. He walks over to his companions and notes in a low voice: Turlogh, Mohgrym, perhaps you could make a quick run through the building? I doubt you will run into anything suspicious, but we better be sure, not?

Click to expand...

Hearing his prince's words, Trapmaster Turlogh quickly brings his fist to his chest. Aye, My Prince!! We wouldn't want to be caught with our pants down around our ankles would we! A sly grin spread over Turlogh's face and with a wink of his one good eye he was off. His oiled black leather and fine mithral chain made hardly a sound as Turlogh searched the inn carefully for any thing unusal such as secret doors or the like.

OOC: Taking 10 on a search of the inn (25 +10 = 35)

Rament finds a suite of rooms to set up as a hospital and turns to his cohort. "prepare a room for healing and let us coordinate with the standard bearer to make defense plans for this establishment. I think Alembregh would be disapointed to be ill prepared for everyting."

Having delegate the hospital set up Rament moves to Alembregh's side "The hospital is being set up and the defense plans for this place will be ready by the day's end. Perhaps we should take a closer look at that map and create a plan of action. I am sure the troops are ready to get started and the sooner you have the sceptere in your posession, the better."

GE

Eugrimm Keeneye, Rament's forward Scout (Ranger) approaches.
Waiting for a lull in the conversation, the young Dwarf says 'I will go out into the city and see about securing intelligence regarding what enemies are nearest as well as where this Wyrm is suppossed to be.'

Showing that he had a small pouch of money for the job, Eugrimm turns and departs, ever a no-nonsense Dwarf.

Gryphon's Eye Inn Map 1

I will get a listing of rooms/number correlations up tomorrow (off to work now), they should be fairly obvious.