The Beginning

The Siege of Torm
Above the ground it was summer thought Jobb but you wouldn’t know it from looking at the cold dark halls of the clan Strong Axe. To the dwarves this was home but to Jobb, a human, it felt unnatural. He heard a slight coughing behind him, reminding him of the presence of Banjere, a dwarven fighter of some renown and his bodyguard during his stay in Torm, the capitol of Strong Axe’s cities. Jack, his apprentice had gone out with a party of dwarven scouts to find new mining areas. He was due back any day now. A sound broke into his thoughts, hurried footsteps outside the door. Banjere exited Jobb’s quarters and several dwarven words were exchanged. Then, there was a shout of exclamation and the door was thrown wide open. Banjere stood there looking murderous and shouted, “Akiata.” Jobb looking to the page standing next to Banjere and heard the page translate, “Dark Dwarves.” Banjere strode towards the entrance hall and the page gestured for Jobb to follow.

Upon entering the spacious hall his gaze was drawn to a single member of the Tallos, an elite group of dwarven scouts who worked in squads of eight. Jack had gone with looking for mines with them some days earlier. The Tallos member’s clothes were torn and bloody and he looked to be asleep. In his hands were the shattered remains of a battle-axe. Banjere strode over to him and said, “Farnet, wake up.” Farnet’s eyes leapt open in fear then relaxed at the sight of a fellow dwarf. He drew a shaky breath and began to cough. At that moment Jobb could almost sense death in the room with all of them, stalking out its next victim. Farnet spoke haltingly through bloodstained teeth, “Akiata,” he spat, “We… stumbled upon hundreds…I am…. the only survivor….” The effort obviously cost him dearly as he collapsed into chair. Seeing Jobbs panicked face he managed one last sentence, “The human was taken alive.” With that the dwarves face finally relaxed and he fell into the deepest slumber, never to wake again.

Down in the deepest, blackest tunnel a war council was in progress. Hundreds of Dark Dwarves were gathered and debating loudly. One, a Damien shouted fiercely, “Our informant has told us of a tunnel that leads to the back of Torm. We can take it by surprise and slay every last one of our despicable kinsmen!” The crowd’s gaze was drawn to the huddled chained figure of Jack who weakly nodded his assent. Another dark dwarf stood up and yelled, “No, if we ever wish to succeed we must break down the front gate and directly battle them!” Damien turned to a figure clad in an all black robe with an impenetrable hood. A chill of fear passed through him and he weakly shook it off. “Well,” he spoke, “The gates or tunnels?”

Choose Reader! Should the dark dwarves enter attack from the tunnels with the element of suprise, or march to the gates and do battle honorably? Comment now!