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Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - speedygogo - 02-07-2009 09:00 PM

I wanted to contribute to the word of Hashut webzine because I love it.  So I wrote a story about chaos dwarfs specifically for the webzine.  While thinking about how the story should best be told, I decided on writing it from an elite dwarf ranger's perspective.  It is long, so I'm going to post in in three parts.  I would appreciate any and all feeback about it.  

Enjoy-Luis A. Lopez jr Takes Hat off

Ps:  I wrote Willmark about submitting this but you didn't write me back.  Write me back.


The Desecrated Forge
by
Luis A. Lopez Jr.


Part one:

Cold almost lifeless hands forced Filli Ironbrow deeper into the bowels of the mine.  The Black Gromil shackles that bound the dwarven Ranger slowly sapped his strength, making each step he took progressively more difficult.  His captors, the bastard son’s of traitorous kin quickly took notice of Filli’s plight.  

“What’s the matter son of Grungi, too hot in here for ya?” One of the chaos Dwarf guards tauntingly said before backhanding Filli with his gauntlet covered hand.

The force of the blow sent Filli to ground in a ruined heap.  It hurt much more that it should have.  Filli looked spitefully at his tormentor and was able to catch a glimpse of his gauntlet.  The dark runes that ornamentally covered it glowed fiery power and crackled like freshly fried bacon but reeked of foul smelling sulfur.

“Few have witnessed the true power of Dawi Zharr.  You are one of the privileged few but you will see more, so much more.  The Daemonsmith has big plans for you son of Grungi.”

Filli spat at the feet of the guard and received an iron boot to his chest for his trouble.  This time it didn’t hurt as much as the runic gauntlet.  The other chaos Dwarf guard fretted impatiently taping his foot to the ground.  He was bigger and older than his comrade.  Filli deduced his age by the guard’s longer beard.  

Much like the tradition of the Dwarf clans from which Filli came, it seemed that the chaos Dwarf elders had the longest beard lengths.  It was a sign of age and wisdom that commanded respect.  The elder guard grabbed Filli with his ham sized hand and hoisted him effortlessly back to his feet.

“Enough rest Dawi!  Back on your feet.  You’ve got an appointment with Hashut and he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”  He mockingly said to Filli.

Filli felt a lump in his throat and struggled to clear it.  The Dwarf Ranger did not want to discover what terrible fate awaited him.  Like a man being led to the gallows, Filli had no choice but to move onwards to his doom.

That thought caused Filli to think about the Slayer cult.  It was not uncommon for a Dwarf to see out his death.  It fact it was a perfectly honorable alternative to living a life of oathbroken shame.  Had Filli known how his scouting mission would turn out, he would not have hesitated to take the slayer oath and dye his hair orange in the Slayer tradition.  It was too late for that now but Filli resolved that he could face his doom with the same courage as his kin.

Filli reminisced over the events that led him to his current predicament.  His predicament began with a day that was like any other one in the Dwarven hold of Karak Ok-Grund.  Filli awoke and was enjoying a fine breakfast made by his wife when a heavy handed knock interrupted his meal.  Filli arose and opened the door.  

An old Dwarf stood before him.  His beard was long and whitened signs of great age and status.  The elder wore fine dark brown robes inlaid with gold heraldry.  Right away Filli recognized him as a senor member of the prospecting guild.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this visitation?”  Filli asked cordially with a small bow of his head in respect.

The elder Dwarf didn’t immediately answer back but instead squinted his eyes in concentration, as if he were studying Filli in the same way he might evaluate an unearthed ore.

“I am the Chief Guildmaster Norn Blackhammer of Karak Ok-Grund’s Mining Guild.  You may address me as Guildmaster Blackhammer.  Filli Ironbrow, you are hereby ordered to search for the missing mining group in the black hills led by prospector Borik Goldring.”  The elder Dwarf finally said as he unrolled a scroll for Filli to see.

The scroll was heavily inlaid with intricate decorative runes and bore the seal of Lo-wi Foeslayer the King of Karak Ok-Grund.  The matter had to be of the utmost importance and Filli invited the Guildmaster into his home that they may discuss the details of the summons.  

“Your cooperation in this matter is much appreciated beardling and you will be rewarded handsomely for your efforts.”  The elder Dwarf stated matter of factly as he plopped down into a chair at Filli’s breakfast table.

Like everything else in Dwarf society a summons was a binding contract to which both parties had limited power to negotiate the terms.  Filli felt uneasy by the mandate, knowing that unquestioning agreement to the summons could doom him.  Often in the initial drafts, summons had absolutely no forgiveness for failure.  The mandates of these initial drafts were also nigh impossible to meet.  Filli thought is best to wait for the best moment to petition for an acceptance of failure clause.  It wasn’t that Filli didn’t have faith in his abilities but he had seen far too many of his kin force into the Slayer Cult because of failing to follow the royal summons.

“Young Miss, I’d like three eggs but with the yolks unbroken and two slices of toast with jam and a glass of Bugman’s, if you please.”  Guildmaster Blackhammer dictated to Filli’s wife.

Had the Dwarf been any one else, Filli would have taken great offense to his bluntness but to have a long beard of such stature in his home was a great honour to Filli.  He could tell by the gleam in his wife’s eye that she shared in his pride
.
“Now where were we, ah yes the King’s mandate, Filli you have heard of Gromril haven’t you?” The Guildmaster asked.

“With all respect sir, what sensible Dwarf hasn’t heard of it?  It is the finest of metals from which the best of armor and weapons are forged.  It is quite rare and extremely valuable.”  Filli answered.


“Quite right and well put young master Filli.  Now what if I were to tell you that there exists an ore even more valuable.  What would you say to that?”

“I’d say that it wasn’t possible, with all respect sir.”

“Ah but it is Filli.  Such an ore indeed exists.  It is a type of Gromril called Gomri, only it is twice as strong and is capable of holding the power of several Master Runes upon it.  Some of our miners discovered a small deposit of it just a few miles south east of here.  For obvious reasons, the Gomri’s excavation was kept secret.  However, we have lost contact with Prospector Goldring’s mining group.  This is where you come in Filli.  I am told that you and your group of Rangers can find a white boar’s hair in mountain range.  We need you to find Goldring and recover any Gomri he may have excavated.”  The Guildmaster said.

Now that he had heard what exactly he was being summoned to do Filli began to petition for a clause that would allow for failure.  He wasn’t sure he would need it but it was good to have just in case.  Filli thought the best way to get the clause in was to be modest about his ability.

“Guildmaster, I ‘m not that good of a Ranger.  It’s true; I’m the best woodsman in Karak Ok-Grund. But if this ore is as valuable as you say, I can nigh afford to fail in this task and facilitate the economic decline of our hold.  Its too heft of a burden to place on my modest shoulders.”


The ploy was working.  Filli could tell by the look in Guildmaster Blackhammer’s eyes.  The old grey bearded Dwarf stared at his with a haughty sense of respect.  Blackhammer unfurled the scroll and began to scribble an amendment clause for acceptable and honorable failure.  Filli’s ploy had worked.

“Enough of that Lad!  You will do this.  You have no choice, besides you will be rewarded handsomely.  Karak Ok-Grund has a lot to gain if you succeed. You’re our best hope lad.  We’re not asking for miracles here.  Just do your best.  There now exists a clause in your summons that allows you an honorable failure in this matter. You need not worry about taking the Slayer take oath.  However, Filli it is in your best interest to succeed with this errand.  Success entitles you to some of the wealth King Foeslayer stands to gain.”  The Guildmaster assertively stated.

Filli felt relieved by the Blackhammer’s response.  Many Dwarf’s found themselves regretting their lack of prudence in such matters.  Fortunately for Filli, he was keenly aware of the bartering nature Dwarfs instinctively brought into every element of their lives and was able to

Without further discussion Filli signed his oath of agreement to undertake the task.  It wasn’t like Filli had much of a choice in accepting the summons to begin with.  Refusing the King’s summons would instantly make him a social outcast.  At least this way, Filli managed to not promise the impossible and only stood to gain from this venture, something any sensible Dwarf would do.

“You are wise beyond your years beardling and most hospitable also.  I look forward to your report Master Filli.  I am quite confident you will be successful.”  The Guildmaster said as he left Filli’s home.  He left a small coin of blood gold, an extremely valuable metal on Filli’s table.

Filli’s eyes widened at the gesture and his jaw dropped.  The coin was easily worth more than his entire house or neighborhood for than matter.  Filli resolved to succeed in both recovering the Gomri and finding out what happened to Prospector Goldring.

He picked up the ruby coin and examined it.   It was beautiful.  The blood gold had a ruby metallic sheen that reflected light like a fine diamond.  

“Why would Blackhammer leave something so valuable? No sensible Dwarf would do such a thing.  The contract!”  Filli thought to himself.

Filli rushed over to his copy of the contract, looking for fine print and he found a clause.


‘Upon acceptance of payment for services, I Filli Ironbrow hereby pledge to not to return to Karak Ok-Grund until I have recovered exactly 2.7 ounces of Gomri.  Refusal of said payment shall be considered a grave insult to which Filli Ironbrow shall be immediately stripped of his honour and considered an Oathbreaker.’

The Guildmaster had swindled him.  It was respectfully done though.  Filli’s family now had enough wealth to be taken care of for the next several hundred years with or without his success.  His group of Rangers were also relieved of his burden of commitment.  

Filli explained the summons to his wife and she hugged him and cried.  His son was too small to understand so Filli didn’t bother telling him he might never see him again.  Filli packed his things and sent out summons for his Rangers and remembered he had heard about Gomri before.  His great grandfather had told him about it.  Just before Filli left his home he looked up Gomri in his family library.


Part Two:

Filli met with his group of Rangers later that morning, all of whom were younger Dwarfs of two hundred years of age or less like Filli.  The gathered in the central meeting halls before venturing out of the hold into the wilds.  Filli explained their mission details there.

Grobil Hammerhand was the most excited of the group of eight Dwarfs and said: “This incredible Filli!  It like we won the lottery.  We’re going to be set for life.”

“But what if we fail?  What then?  What if the Gomri is just a rumor and a cave in killed ‘ol Goldring?  We’re left chasing banshees and get to return home as oathbreakers. That’ll be just great.” Olaf  Svenson grumbled.


“There will be no such fate for us Olaf.  I have a copy of the summons and spoke with the mining Guildmaster personally.  We only stand to gain from this.  Not will we be considered heroes who honorably answered our King’s call, we will be rich when we succeed in our task.”  Filli said before falling into quiet introspection.

“I see a catch in your eyes Filli.  I know there’s got to be one, so let us know what it is.” Olaf petitioned.

“Well, my gut tells me there is something wrong about all of this.  I don’t think we’ve been told everything.”

“What more is there to tell Filli?  All we got to do is find some lost miner and the Gomri.”  Said Grobril.

“When the Guildmaster told me about Gomri I did not know what it was but then I remembered had I heard about it before.  My grandfather was a miner, you know.  Gomri is a rare ore the Dawi Zharr prize,” Filli answered.

The group froze, shocked by Filli’s words.  It was like he had set off a blasting charge in the midst of them.  A sense of dutiful grimness set over the group and any remnant of previous happiness disappeared.  The Rangers set to the task at hand and marched in silence to Goldring’s last know excavation site.  

The Dawi Zharr or Chaos Dwarfs were an abomination to all of Dwarf kind.    They forsook the Dwarven Ancestor Gods, Grungi, Valaya and Grimnir and worshiped the father of darkness, Hashut.    The mere mention of Dawi Zharr was the gravest of insults to a Dwarf, a debased lot of self serving heathens, who cared little for Dwarven virtue.  To make matters worse these foul inbreed relative kept part of the same name that the true Dwarfs indentified themselves with, Dawi.

Filli’s Rangers were exceptionally skilled woodsmen even by Elf standards. Part of the success of Filli Ironbrow’s Rangers lay in their use stealth and camouflage. Unlike other Dwarf Rangers Filli’s troupe tried to become part of the woods and not just move through it.  As a result, Filli’s Rangers navigated the forests with the skill of Halfling woodsmen.   Often they were able to infiltrate an area without nearby occupants being aware they were there, such was the case when the arrived at the excavation site.


In typically Dwarf fashion; the mine entrance had been disguised to look like a well of a house in the country side.  Filli and his Rangers crept up hidden in the nearby trees and waited.  Not wanting to give themselves away the Rangers communicated in mimicked animal sounds and noises.  When they spoke to each other it sounded like nothing more than the everyday noise of the forest.

“I don’t see any one.  Why don’t we go take a closer look?” Grobril said in a language sounding like a scampering mouse.

“No, we wait.  Something doesn’t feel right.”  Filli replied in rustling leaf sounds.

Filli was distressed by the country house’s ominous doors and windows.  The wood it was made of seemed unnatural, as if it had been somehow tainted.  The wood was darker than any he had ever seen and had unnatural gnarled irregularities to it.   So the Rangers waited and waited, until the entire day had passed and the sun began to set.

“Filli don’t you think we have waited enough?  Let’s go in and get a closer look.” Grobril said once again in mouse scamper.

“Wait just a bit more.”  Filli replied in leaf rustle.

Suddenly, in the distance a rumbling could be heard and it grew uncomfortably louder.  Something was drawing closer to the house.  Filli made a hand gesture.  All communication in the Ranger group would now be in silent hands signals.  The Rangers dug in and further camouflaged themselves so that they were now nearly invisible as they readied their crossbows.

Soon the distinctive footsteps of both beast and Dwarfs could be heard but there was also another even more uncomfortable noise amidst them, Goblins.  Part of the training Filli put his Rangers through involved recognizing the sounds of different races footsteps.  Although the Rangers tried to avoid open conflicts when possible, armed engagements were inevitable.  Filli had learned long ago that precise ambush style attacks not only saved lives but were also more effective.
The mere thought of Dwarfs and Goblins marching together enraged Filli.  He bit down hard on his bottom lip until a steady trickle of blood flowed into his mouth.    Filli quickly surveyed his Rangers and could see that his fellows were just as upset as he was.  Soon the Rangers eyes confirmed what their ears had already told them.

The road leading to the cottage was suddenly alive with chaotic activity, as several hobgoblins scuttled into view.  Walking spasticly but with some caution, two large groups of heavily hobgoblins each approached.  They took great care to damage as much of their surroundings as possible, cutting down trees and knocking things over whenever possible.  One of them had a torch and casually lit a nearby field of grain ablaze.

Hobgoblins were a particularly nasty breed of goblin, renowned for their deceitfulness.  It was rumored that they sold others of their kind into slavery.  Yet, regardless of the breed of Goblin the Dwarfs maintained a deep hatred of them all.  

“Glad we didn’t hide there.”  Olaf snickered in sign language.

“Stay ready!”  Filli signed back.

Filli appreciated Olaf but hoped that his friend wouldn’t let his emotions get the best of him.  Even since Olaf’s father had been killed by a Goblin, he had been far too trigger happy when it came to dealing with them.   Filli needed time to get an appraisal of their enemies’ strength before deciding if attacking would be a good course of action.

Almost undetected, a group of six Hobgoblins on giant wolves came through the forest right where Filli and his Rangers were hiding.  Had the Rangers been more like the average Dwarf kind they would have been discovered.  Filli’s Rangers remained motionless, relying on their camouflage to conceal them.

The huge slavering wolves sniffed around the area but didn’t discover any of the Dwarfs hiding in the foliage.  The scent masking techniques the unit used paid off.  Unable to find anything the wolf riders dashed toward the cottage grounds and circled the property, as if searching for an expected ambush.

“Looks like someone told them we were coming.”  Grobril signed.
“It certainly seems that way.” Filli agreed.

Once content that the area was secure the hobgoblins and their wolf rider kin ranked up in formation and one of the pulled a horn out and blew it.  The sour note loudly echoed throughout the entire area cause nearby birds to take flight.

A savage looking beast lurched forward from the road whence the hobgoblins came.  It looked like the stuff of nightmares, made of living molten metal and stood almost as large as the cottage next to the mine.  Decorative brass etching in the fashion of the Dark Gods covered the monstrous behemoth’s red hot hide and a pair of bull-like horns adorned its head. The ground hissed and burned where it placed its massive hooves.  Molten spittle dripped from the beast’s mouth as it looked at the Hobgoblins with murderous intentions.  
Huge black chains tied the beast to some sort of equally large carriage.  It too was covered with foul runic inscriptions.  However, the carriage lacked the Daemonic life of the beast that pulled it.   The carriage stopped just short of the Hobgoblins and by the mine’s entrance.  The proximity of the beast almost induced a state of panic in the Hobgoblins who readied themselves for flight but held their formations for the moment.

The carriage door opened and a shackled Dwarf was forcibly expelled from it.  An almost naked and severely bruised Dwarf hit the ground hard.  The daemonic bull beast jerked hard in the fallen Dwarf’s direction but its yoke and chain kept it from getting to him.  Black smoke flared from the beasts red hot nostrils.  Then laughter resonated from the carriage as four heavily armored Dwarfs sized creatures emerged from the carriage.  From a distance they could be easily mistaken for common Dwarfs but now that they had come so close, their identity was unmistakable.  They were Dawi Zharr.


Part Three:

“Goldbrick you have lied to us.  Where are the Rangers you said that Blackhammer would send?” One of the Dawi Zharr asked the fallen Dwarf.

Goldbrick struggled to his knees.  His was faced busted and broken; his once proud long beard was now nearly plucked out.  He had been beaten so badly that he didn’t look like a Dwarf anymore but rather a ruined lump of flesh.

“I…I thought he would send someone after us because of the Gomri’s value.  I thought he would...” Goldbrick pleaded.
The prospector’s sentence was cut off by a heavy iron boot to the chest that hurled the prospector back to the ground.  This time Goldbrick didn’t get back up.  He lay in a fetal position coughing up blood.

“Filli we can’t just stand by and watch this our honour demands that we act.” Olaf demanded in sign.

“You’re right Olaf we do need to act but we also need to send word to King Foeslayer.  Nori and Grobril will stay with me.  We will create the diversion.  Olaf you will notify King Foeslayer of this treachery.  The rest of you will protect Olaf with you lives.  We cannot fail in this task.”  Filli signed grimly.

The troupe all nodded in solemn agreement and returned their attention to the drama unfolding before them.  Olaf wanted to stay and fight, reluctantly agreeing to the orders. Goldring had been bound with ropes to a long iron stake by several of the hobgoblins.

“Goldring now you will learn of Hashut’s price for failure.”  One of the Dawi Zharr said as his fellow Chaos Dwarfs began chanting in an arcane language.

The Daemonic bull shifted into a sitting position and the magma-like energy empowering it dissipated, as the beast’s jaw dropped leaving its maw wide open.  Goldbrick had a sense of what was going to happen next and began to squirm with newfound vigor.  Hobgoblins grabbed both ends of the iron stake and carefully brought the prospector toward the Bulls gaping mouth.
“Now!”  Filli cried as he stood up.

The Rangers unleashed a volley of arrows from their crossbows.  The Hobgoblins were caught totally off guard and several fell dead to the ground.  Filli unsheathed his axe and ran toward Goldbrick.  Olaf and Grobril followed him.  

The four Dawi Zharr retreated behind the carriage and began to bark orders to the confused Hobgoblins.  The wolf riders were the first to respond.  The snarling lupine devils quickly closed on the shorter legged Dwarfs.  Fill and his comrades stopped and braced themselves for the inevitable impact.  The remaining Rangers continue to provide cover fire as they withdrew.

Filli gripped his axe tightly as the wolves came into melee range.  The foul minions of the Chaos Dwarfs move impossibly fast in a blur of fur and fangs.  One of the wolves leapt a Filli, with its jaws aimed at his throat.


Filli swung his axe in an upward motion catching the wolf in its chest as it crashed into him.  The force of the impact knocked Filli over but the Dwarf’s blow had been forceful enough to split the wolf’s head in half.  Blood spurted in a crimson shower from the canine’s head, as the beast collapsed on top of its rider.  The hobgoblin squirmed in panic to free himself from beneath his mount but could not do so before Filli was upon him.


One swift blow from Filli’s ax ended the miserable creature’s misery.  Olaf and Grobril were doing equally well.  Between them two more wolf riders had fallen.  The graphic deaths of their comrades sent the rest of the unit into a panic and the remaining Hobgoblin wolf riders sprinted away.  

By this time, the Hobgoblins on foot had closed in on the Dwarfs.  Before the Rangers could attach they were surrounded in a sea of Hobgoblins.   Attacks came from every conceivable angle.  Luckily, for the Dwarfs their armor protected them well.

The hobgoblins were feeble by Dwarf standards and their weapons poorly made.  Their assault remind Filli of being attacked by children.  However, what the Hobgoblins lacked in strength of arms they made up for in sheer ferocity and cunning.  Filli, Grobril and Olaf found themselves bleeding from numerous small wounds before they could even react.

The three Dwarfs struck, swinging their axes back at the seething mass of green flesh. Their axes hit home lopping limbs cleanly off, cutting through several Hobgoblins with each stroke.  Despite their horrific losses, these Hobgoblins fought on as if possessed.    Clawing scratching and even biting in vain at the Rangers’ Gromril armor.

When the Hobgoblin’s ranks were nearly depleted Filli could see why they were fighting so hard.  The Daemonic bull had awoken and devoured the wolf riders that fled away earlier.  The beast now raced towards the three Dwarfs
.  
The bull was heading right for Nori.  Filli tried to call off a warning to him but it was to late.  The Daemonic bit seized Nori in its jaws an bit down on him.  Nori’s flesh fizzled like melting butter on frying pan.  The beast hungrily dismembered and devoured the poor Dwarf in greedy bites and in doing so was invigorated with even more molten life.  

Filli enraged by the sight of his friend falling, fought as if possessed himself.  Killing at least four hobgoblins with every swing of his axe.  Grobril also fought with renewed vigor.  Unfortunately for the hobgoblins, the beast of Hashut didn’t count them as allies and began to devour them.  They fell into disarray and fled leaving Filli and Grobril alone on the battlefield with the beast.

Strangely, the bull paused and stared at the Dwarfs with its flaming yellow eyes.  Filli felt his nerve start to break but then remembered his fallen friend and stood firm.  Grobril lost his nerve and ran in horror.  Filli didn’t look back at Grobril and never saw him cut down by the rallying Hobgoblins who repeatedly stabbed him in the back, long after life had left the Dwarf.

Long dormant runes on Filli’s axe began to glow with ancient power.  That power began to flow into to Filli’s body, giving him strength.  With a mighty battle cry Filli charged the beast of Hashut, swinging his axe wildly like a Dwarven Slayer.  The beast was caught off guard by the attack and struggled to regain its footing.  It snarled and snorted, lunging its bulk and snapping its jaws in retaliation.  However, it was in vain.  


Filli was master of the Daemonic Bull of Hashut this day.  His axe bit into the bull’s molten hide again and again.  Each blow tore away chucks of daemonic metal leaving gaping wounds from which the beast’s molten blood seeped away.  The souls that the bull had devoured briefly appeared in ethereal vapor as the escaped their incarcerator.  

The Daemon’s mass work against it.  It turned trying to get bearings on Filli but was unable to outmaneuver the small, runicly enhanced Dwarf at such close quarters.  The beast lunged, only to have both its forelegs cleft off in a single axe swing.  It fell to the ground, struggling to stand, as Filli moved in for the kill.  

The Dwarf Ranger held his axe high about his head and cried:  “For Olaf and for Grungi!”

Filli’s axe dropped on the beast neck with explosive force decapitating it.  The sheer energy of the blow threw Filli high into the air causing him to land next to Goldring.  Filli was completely spent and was rapidly fading into unconsciousness.   Ornate iron boot waddled towards him.  Filli looked up only to see the blurred forms of the Dawi Zharr hovering by him.  Filli struggled to move but could not.  

“All blessings to Hashut.  It seems we have found a worthy sacrifice after all.”  One of the Dawi Zharr exclaimed.

Hobgoblin reinforcements arrived.  The foul creatures bound Filli, throwing him with Goldring into the carriage.  Filli blacked out.  His consciousness fading into utter and complete darkness.




Part four hasn't been written yet.  If I get alot of feedback and see a desire int the Chaos Dwarf community I will finish it soon otherwise it may take a couple of months before I'm able to post the dramatic conclusion.

-Luis


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Hashut's Blessing - 02-07-2009 09:41 PM

Please don't post 5 times in a row in less than 10 minutes, especially when you can fit it all into one post. If necessary, there is an edit button in the bottom right of each post.

As for the story: I;ve not the time to read it now, but Willmark is very busy and it;s usually best to send the article and say it;s an application for WoH and hope it makes it in. If it doesn;t, it could do next time. But posting it up means it;s not likely going to because everyone can already have read it. Just a few tips.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - speedygogo - 02-08-2009 12:21 AM

Hashut's Blessing Wrote:
Please don't post 5 times in a row in less than 10 minutes, especially when you can fit it all into one post. If necessary, there is an edit button in the bottom right of each post.

As for the story: I;ve not the time to read it now, but Willmark is very busy and it;s usually best to send the article and say it;s an application for WoH and hope it makes it in. If it doesn;t, it could do next time. But posting it up means it;s not likely going to because everyone can already have read it. Just a few tips.


The reason why I did so is because it is 20 typed pages that I'm posting.  Chapter breaks exist in stories because most people don't read material beyond 5-6 pages at a time.  If potential readers are overwhelmed then they won't read the story.  My separation of posts was intentional.  Is there a reason why you do want me to post that way?Takes Hat off


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Grimstonefire - 02-08-2009 11:14 AM

I doubt a 20 page story would make it into WoH anyway.  I may be wrong, but I think it's probably 3-4 pages at most.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Thommy H - 02-08-2009 12:16 PM

Mine are usually 5 or 6 pages. If you wanted to submit a story of this length, you should probably do it in serialised form (as I have), otherwise it's just not going to happen.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - tetnis - 02-08-2009 08:23 PM

I really like the story tho- I can't wait to read the rest.  Good going!


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - speedygogo - 02-09-2009 03:11 AM

A serialized story is exactly what I was thinking about, which is why I posted it in parts originally.
I'm glad you like it Tetnis. -luis


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Kera foehunter - 02-14-2009 08:15 AM

good story to tell the grand children by the fire
i think you did a great job speedy  i love the story i wish i had the skills to spin a great yarn like that
now i like to here the ending!!


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - speedygogo - 02-15-2009 06:29 AM

Thanks Kera!  Your comments motivated me to write the next part of the story.  I've decided to make it longer.  I had some ideas for my story which I'll need space to elaborate on.  Here's the next chapter.

Zharr Naggarund

Filli awoke hours later, completely uncertain how long he had been unconscious.  He was in a tightly congested space filled with all sorts of creatures, who shared in his misfortune.  Being a Dwarf, this didn’t make Filli too uncomfortable.  Dwarfs were all highly adapted to subterranean life.  Their eyes could see in almost pitch darkness.  Dwarf hearing worked like a primitive echo location, giving them sense of direction and of the environment around them.

Filli’s senses told him he was moving.  The Dwai Zharr had apparently taken it upon themselves to transport him somewhere.  The Ranger began told wonder why they hadn’t just killed him, only to retreat from the answers his mind gave him.  Nothing good would come out of this.  Filli’s mind felt despair and angst creep into it.  He wanted to panic, to run, and to scream but his Dwarf sensibilities took over.  

Filli was an honored member of Karak Ok-Grund.  He refused to be scared or intimidated by the traitorous Dawi Zharr.  He determined to face his demise with the courage and stoic strength that was the birthright of his people.  Fill would not let the darkness overcome him.  Filli’s newfound resolve caused the feeling of despair he had felt earlier to dissipate.  

Although Filli had been aware of his environment, he realized he had been so introverted that he was not clearly seeing it.  He was sitting shackled to a bench next to columns of other Dwarfs, Men, Halflings, Goblins and even some Skaven, a breed of degenerate ratmen.  Normally these races had fervent rivalries with each other.  For example Dwarfs generally liked Men and Halfling but hated both Skaven and Goblins.  However, in their present condition no one cared.  They all sat together in an unfortunate community of the damned, all awaiting a dire fate.
Filli’s armor, weapons and his garments were gone and was clothed in tattered rags.  Filli lamented the loss of his axe, a family heirloom that once belonged to his uncle Thorgi, a Daemonslayer.  The Runically magic axe had saved Filli’s life.  Filli vowed to escape and to retrieve the axe.

Filli noticed that every race of creature in the prison transport was sobbing, overcome with despair, everyone except for the Dwarfs.  Sour but determined expressions were on their faces.   Five out of the six others dourly nodded in silent acknowledgement, when Fill saw them.  The one who didn’t sat right across Filli and was bound to a Halfling and a Goblin.  He looked familiar.

Filli’s head still rang with pain from the iron boot of the Dawi Zharr. He squinted and focused on the Dwarf.  He was an older Dwarf, a Longbeard and he was sobbing with his head between his hands.   Filli tapped his hands on the chains in the Morse code-like language of his kind.

“Elder, why do you cry?  Pull it together.  You dishonor yourself with you’re actions.”  Filli tapped to the Longbeard

“You wasted your time with that one.  He is an oathbreaker and is no longer worthy of the title of Longbeard.”  An answer came from one of the dwarfs behind him.



Filli twisted his shackled body, struggling to make eye contact with the Dwarf whom he hadn’t seen earlier.  The dwarf was large even by dwarf standards, not being tall but exceptionally wide and girthy.  The squat Dwarf took easily took up most of the space of the narrow bench he was on.  His arms bore massive muscles while his belly protruded with Ogre-like obesity.

“Names Gromble.  Pleased to meet you.  The rest of us Dwarfs in this hell are miners from Karak Varn.  We were ambushed as we left a mine and haven’t seen daylight ever since.”  The burly Dwarf politely tapped.

Filli introduced himself and told Gromble all about the ordeal that had led his to his imprisonment, being careful to leave out information about the black Gomri.  The Burly Dwarfs tapped the chains in respectful recognition and applause.

“We heard about you from you crying friend over there.  You are a credit to Karak Ok-Grund Filli Ironbrow.  Not many dwarfs can slay a Daemonic beast.  It’s a tall order even for a slayer.” Gromble said.

“Grimnir blessed my efforts.  How did you get the name Gromble anyway?”  Filli asked.

“They named me that because I’m always hunger.  If you could already tell I’m accustomed to eating well.”  Gromble answered as he tapped on his massive belly with both hands.


The two dwarfs smiled.  Then prison cart came to a sudden stop.  Though the thick Oak walls of the cart Filli could make out rustling activity that told he they had arrived at the intended destination.  

One of the sides of the cart was pulled downward until it became a ramp and grey light flooded in.  The ramp buckled with the weight, as three Dawi Zharr made their way in.   Filli hadn’t been able to get a good view of a Chaos dwarf before and was curious about their appearance.  His determination to escape was so great that Filli tried to memorized his captures features so when he gave King Foeslayer his report, the crimes of the Dawi Zharr could be properly recorded in the Karak Ok-Grund’s book of grudges.

These Dawi Zharr were of a lower class then the ones he had encountered before.  They wore black leather armor that had pieces of dragon scale shaped steel riveted in it.  Their beards were short and braided to look like plumes of smoke rising from a furnace.  Two of the Dawi Zharr wore elaborate steel skull facemasks, while the other had his hanging from his belt.  

With his face fully in view, Filli could see that the tusk-like protrusions he thought were part of the facemask were actually part of the Dawi’s mandible.  The Chaos Dwarf also had an unusually large pointy nose but otherwise looked like a common dwarf.

“Get up you lazy dogs!”  The Dawi yelled in a vulgar Dwarf dialect as he unfurled a whip from his side and cracked it.  


The two masked Chaos Dwarfs snapped to attention and unlocked the benches as the shackled rows of prisoners scurried into columns and marked outside.  As Filli made his way out he was surprised to see the sky.  It was smoke gray with pollution.  He had a sense that it was midday but the sky was so dark it, one could easily mistake it for midnight.

The surrounding area was in much worse shape.  In front of the slave group was a charred mountain and behind them charred earth.  The ground had several inches of packed ash that filled the air in smoke like patterns as it was walked upon.

Armed Hobgoblins wolfriders flanked the group of slaves.  Filli could hear the capture Goblins cry out to them for help in the foul greenskin language.  The Hobgoblins laughed at their incarcerated kin and poked at them mercilessly with spears.  The prisoners shuffled forward toward and entourage of Dawi Zharr at the cavernous foot of the black mountain.

A Merchant class of Chaos Dwarf waited there.  He was dressed in burgundy robes that were inlaid with gold trim.    Next to the Merchant were sixteen heavily armored Chaos Dwarfs, serving as a bodyguard.  Their Gromril armor was decorated with numerous reliefs depicting a wing flaming bull.  The bodyguards were armed with large two-handed runic axes.   Filli thought them to be foul parodies of the King’s Hammerers back home.  The Merchant opened his arms outward as the slavers approached.


“Welcome brothers and friends.  I see you have brought Hashut fresh stock.”  The Merchant cheerfully said in a thick Slavic accent.

The unmasked slaver nodded but maintained a bitter posture.  Fill was intrigue by the similarity of the two Dwarf cultures.  It seemed the Dawi Zharr also used a type bartering system.  

“Yes, we bring slaves for the forge but the come at a higher price.” The slaver said.

The Merchant’s face curled into a hideous scowl and silence ensued.  He obviously didn’t like what he was hearing.  Filli notice that the wolfriders had moved closer and that the bodyguards were gripping their axes tighter.  These negotiations could easily turn violent.  The slayer walked up to Filli and pointed his whip at him.

“It was this one who brought this upon us.  This son of Grimnir single handedly slew our sacred Taurus.  His value justifies the new price, a worthy sacrifice for Hashut, yes?” The slayer said.  His voice had become shaky and uncertain.

“It seems we have an agreement then.” The Merchant answered.

   The Merchant smiled and it made him look even more grotesque.  He then made eye contact with one of the Slaver’s wolfriders and nodded.  At the signal the bodyguard exploded forward in attack.   Half of the wolfriders and the Slavers met the body guard in combat while the other half grabbed the long chains binding the slayers together and raced away from the battleline.
Filli saw the prisoners chained to him begin to fall like pins as they were dragged away.  He instinctively resisted but was dragged down like everyone else.  The Wolfriders pulled the slaves a short distance away and then stopped.

Filli struggled to his knees more concerned about the outcome of the battle then with his own well being.  Things weren’t going well for the Slavers.  The stood behind an immense horde of Hobgoblins cracking their whips, trying to get the cowardly greenskins to fight harder.  Meanwhile the armored Chaos Dwarfs cut them down in swathes.  Moments later the Bodyguard reached the Slavers, bodies of hundreds of dead hobgoblins at their feet.  The Slavers threw down their whips and pleaded for mercy as the Merchant strolled casually up to them.

“Now from what I remember, our agreement was forty five gold pieces for a shipment of a hundred slaves.  Am I correct, Has-ir?”  The merchant nonchalantly asked as he inspected his finger nails.

“That is correct Herr Zogg.”  The unmasked Slaver squeaked back.

“Excellent, I think it best that we stick to the original terms of agreement don’t you?”

“Yes, I think so Herr Zogg.” Has-ir nodded



The Merchant reach into his robes and produced a modest sized velvet money bag and spilled its contents on the floor at the feet of Has-ir.   The bodyguard withdrew and the Slavers fought over the coins in the ash laden ground.

With the transaction settled the slaves were escorted to a cavernous entry way to the black mountains.  They marched across a lava filled moat over a stone bridge.  As the slaves entered the mountain cries of agony could be faintly heard coming from within the belly of the mountain.  Herr Zogg counted and inspected each slave personally before they lead away to the mines.

“Hashut be praised, ten Dwarfs.  This type of catch is virtually unheard of.  The mines will flourish for many years to come” Herr Zogg triumphantly told his Goblin scribe.  
Filli was nearing the mine entrance and would soon be inspected soon.  The Dawi Zharr hold was built almost exactly like a Dwarf Karak.  It scared him to realized that for all the differences that two types of Dwarfs had, they shared much more in common.

“C.c.count other slaves master?”  The goblin scribe asked.

‘There is no need.  They will soon be dead anyway.  Ah, the famous Filli Ironbrow.  I have heard great things about you.  A confirmed kill of a sacred Taurus is most impressive and unfortunate for you.  Welcome to Zharr Naggarund.  You will not like it here!” Herr Zogg gloated.  

Filli was then taken to the mines and the cries of agony grew louder.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - tetnis - 02-20-2009 04:38 PM

Awesome second part speedygogo, I'm impressed! Keep up the good work.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Tarrakk Blackhand - 03-12-2009 06:45 PM

Speedygogo...looks good, but you need to watch your sentances a little more.

Quote:
“Filli we can’t just stand by and watch this our honour demands that we act.” Olaf demanded in sign.


Should be

Quote:
“Filli we can’t just stand by and watch this. Our honour demands that we act!” Olaf demanded in sign.


Also

Quote:
Fortunately for Filli, he was keenly aware of the bartering nature Dwarfs instinctively brought into every element of their lives and was able to



Should there be a period at the end of this scentance or is there a missing idea?


Be careful to break sentances in the right place for paragraphs. Remeber...new thought=new paragraph.

Example :

Quote:
The troupe all nodded in solemn agreement and returned their attention to the drama unfolding before them.  Olaf wanted to stay and fight, reluctantly agreeing to the orders. Goldring had been bound with ropes to a long iron stake by several of the hobgoblins.


Should be broken to read :

Quote:
Although Olaf wanted to stay and fight, he reluctantly agreed to the orders. With a glance from Filli, The troupe all nodded in solemn agreement and returned their attention to the drama unfolding before them.  

Goldring had been bound with ropes to a long iron stake by several of the hobgoblins.......


There's a few other examples, but I won't post them all. You'll have to go back and read and re-proof it on your own.

Other than that, I like the concept of the story and your ideas. Please don't take my scrutiny to harshly. I just want to help you to improve your writing abillity. The Dwarfs talking in leaf russeling sounds, etc was wonderful. Keep up the good work and don't forget to add more emotion into the story.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - speedygogo - 03-12-2009 08:15 PM

Tarrakk Blackhand Wrote:
Speedygogo...looks good, but you need to watch your sentances a little more.

Quote:
“Filli we can’t just stand by and watch this our honour demands that we act.” Olaf demanded in sign.


Should be

Quote:
“Filli we can’t just stand by and watch this. Our honour demands that we act!” Olaf demanded in sign.


Also

Quote:
Fortunately for Filli, he was keenly aware of the bartering nature Dwarfs instinctively brought into every element of their lives and was able to



Should there be a period at the end of this scentance or is there a missing idea?


Be careful to break sentances in the right place for paragraphs. Remeber...new thought=new paragraph.

Example :

Quote:
The troupe all nodded in solemn agreement and returned their attention to the drama unfolding before them.  Olaf wanted to stay and fight, reluctantly agreeing to the orders. Goldring had been bound with ropes to a long iron stake by several of the hobgoblins.


Should be broken to read :

Quote:
Although Olaf wanted to stay and fight, he reluctantly agreed to the orders. With a glance from Filli, The troupe all nodded in solemn agreement and returned their attention to the drama unfolding before them.  

Goldring had been bound with ropes to a long iron stake by several of the hobgoblins.......


There's a few other examples, but I won't post them all. You'll have to go back and read and re-proof it on your own.

Other than that, I like the concept of the story and your ideas. Please don't take my scrutiny to harshly. I just want to help you to improve your writing abillity. The Dwarfs talking in leaf russeling sounds, etc was wonderful. Keep up the good work and don't forget to add more emotion into the story.



Thanks for the comments.  The part I put up was unedited and posted just after writing it.  There is so much going on in my life right now that I am unsure when and if I'll put any more up.  I also heard about GW's dealings with turn signals on a landraider.  GW was so indifferent and derogatory that I am very tempted to re-edit the whole story and intergrate it with another I am writing.  I not sure how much virtue there is in exploring dead ends.  If you write something worthwhile it would be nice to be able to do something with it.  I already am a published author and am finalizing a deal for a kids book with my publisher. Takes Hat off
-Luis


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Tarrakk Blackhand - 03-12-2009 08:29 PM

Kool! That's good news about the kid's story. Let us know the title and I'll look out for it as I have a young daughter.

What's this about turn signals?


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Kera foehunter - 03-13-2009 06:28 AM

wow it seem like the slayer  Ranger is at a cool health spa!!
More !!!! more !!


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - speedygogo - 03-13-2009 10:18 AM

Turn signals on a landraider is an online fan run comic.  The guy who uns the site has been making comics for six years but recently lost his job.  He asked GW if he could publish or sell his comics to them and the refused.  The thing was GW had endosed the site and gave him permission to write about the 40k universe.  The problem with developing any GW based media is that GW owns the IP/copyright, making it a dead end.  For example you could make the ultimate cool chaos dwarf mini.  If he looks too much the GW copyrighted one you can get sued if you make copies of your mini.  

One of the great things about the Chaos Dwarfs is they are not as developed as many of the other warhammer races.   This gives creative people, like most everyone on this site the liberty to create and play with ideas of who they think chaos dwarfs are like and potentially even make money for their ideas.  At the very least they will credit for their ideas.  In the land of copyright infringement, it does not matter how good the idea is.  You simply cannot develop what isn't yours.  On a hobbist level that isn't a problem but when people start having larger more developed ideas then problems arise.

For example, in the off topic discussion I have seen several miniature made by site members that I would buy.  However, those mini's cannot be sold because of the liabities of breaking GW copyrights.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Tarrakk Blackhand - 03-13-2009 01:56 PM

I know it's problematic if you use GW parts, but I didn't think they would go so far as to get into images, etc. I guess that guy would have to keep the same story, but change the names and artwork if he wanted to independantly publish the books. That's a lot of time and effort.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Canix - 03-13-2009 05:17 PM

Great storyline  however needs a proof read!  The story is developing well i do hope you write more even if just for yourself(usRolleyes)
Here's hoping the episodes continue Takes Hat off


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - jolpis - 03-22-2009 02:22 PM

wow awsome story, loved the fight between the slavers and the merchant it really gives you an idea about how chaos dwarf trading works, the description of the taurus was great to.

it had a great story and was well written.
i hope we will se more of Gromble next part
Takes Hat off


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Border Reiver - 03-22-2009 11:16 PM

The description of the "negotiations" was a little short, but probably indicative of how DZ society works.


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Willmark - 07-05-2010 08:44 PM

Amazing the things you find by searching...


RE: Desecrated forge- a word of Hashut story submission - Zanko - 07-11-2010 11:46 AM

I really like the story - awesome! Takes Hat off

Will you make a sequal?! I hope so! Wink

Please go on! Cheers!


                     Hashut!