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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Northman" data-source="post: 1489986" data-attributes="member: 14062">Dorlandus, Falinus Upper Thoradur:  Rimefal 11th    The air was biting cold on the winter night that Devlin Rorinson walked the battlements around Dorlandus.  His beard was tinted with frost as he kept a sharp eye out on this, the most remote town in all of Falinus, the hill dwarf land of the kingdom of Thoradur.    Word had arrived from Lorindar to the west that the northern Border Keeps that watched the northern steppes were being bolstered with militia from all over Falinus.  It seemed that many steppe orcs had been caught within Falinus.  By itself this was not news but that the orcs were not in Falinus to raid, was.  The orcs were said to be hiding and spying.  But spying for whom?  King Grimstone issued the writ that called for the militia to travel to the newly finished keeps in anticipation of another orc invasion.    Delvin sighed at the thought.  It had only been fifteen years since the Horde.  The young warrior ground his teeth together at the memory of the steppe orcs washing down over his country like a wave of death and destruction.  The foul orcs had burned and slaughtered everything and everyone that got in their way.  Yet that was not the end of it.  For four years the dwarves had lived in their cities, towns, and steadings, huddled like rats as the orcs lay claim to their country.  The orcs did not rule them, they simply controlled all of Upper Thoradur including Falinus and Dalir.  The hill dwarves had to hide behind their walls, trapped, waiting for the orcs to turn their attention to them.  For four years the attacks did come, though infrequently.  Devlin stood on these very same walls and fired crossbow bolts into orc hides and cleaved orc skulls as they climbed over the walls from these very battlements.    The first orc attack had come on a warm summer night in the year 50 of the current age, a night nothing like this night.  Dorlandus lie under starlight that showed snow on the ground around the town like a glowing blanket of white.  It seemed improbable that the orcs would come again after only fifteen years and during winter non-the-less.  Devlin knew that they bred like rabbits, but even rabbits had to take time to build up their numbers.  They were also known for spending as much or more time killing themselves as raiding steadings in Falinus.  How could they have recovered so quickly from the Horde War?  The dwarves hadn’t.    It still rubbed Delvin the wrong way that King Grimstone had to hire human mercenaries to help drive the orcs out.  Delvin’s father Rorin, had fought those same Mittendieners in the North-South War.  And now there were dozens of humans in Dorlandus, sleeping not a hundred feet from the battlements where Devlin now stood guard.  Humans always brought about change, and much too quickly for Devlin’s dwarven blood to like.  Anything worth doing takes time, the old dwarven adage said.  And it was true.  It was said there were even more humans down in Lorindar.  Devlin chuckled.  His friend, Foris, had said that Lorindarans were part human and that’s why they tolerated the skinny ones so much.  Dwarves that were part human!    For a moment Devlin found a reason to smile on his cold dark watch on the battlements of Dorlandus.  He turned and began to walk back across the section of the wall he was tasked with patrolling.  The world was indeed changing and much too fast, but as long as there good hill dwarves around to make fun of humans, it would be tolerable.    Delvin stopped to try and scratch his armpit under the heavy chainmail shirt and under-padding.  It let in cold air that bit through his long sleeve shirt so he quickly stopped.  He had lived through fifty cold winters and many were worse than this one, but walking the wall in the dead night shift in the heart of winter was never top on his list of things to do.  What was it, one more hour until he could warm himself by the coals of his hearth and slip under the fur blanket next to his warm wife?  The thought made him smile again and as his eyes glazed over as the chill in his bones seemed to melt away.    Helda was a good wife.  She had already given him one strong son and he wouldn’t be surprised if she gave him another.  And more importantly she could brew beer that would...    What was that?</blockquote>

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