Maegar Darkfell

[intrepid42]

DUNLURMRIN

The Dwarves Endure. The Kingdoms of Old have faded, but remnants endure from Adbar in the North to Iltkazar to the South, and The Great Rift remains unbroken. But many have left the old holds over the Ages, and their descendants seek their fortune scattered through lands from the Sword Coast to the utterest east.

Some have even started the cycle anew, and it fell to two brothers from Waterdeep to survey likely sites in the Sword Mountains north-west of Waterdeep.

They decided upon a promising seam high up in a valley, which over recent years has become a small multi-family dwarven holding. The brothers Delg and Ghaern Orothiar named it Dunlurmrin (lit. 'climbing underground river'). While there is an underground stream nearby that could one day be accessed via aqueduct, there is no current physical connection. The brothers were enarmoured of the stream, and also felt that some future foe might outsmart itself and try it's luck entering their to-be family home via the stream, which had particularly lethal topography. And so the name became established.

Being reliant on rainfall and snowmelt imposes it's own compromises in the grim calculus that is dwarven survival. However, the brothers concluded that prolonged siege wasn't likely so close to the might of Waterdeep, and in time they crafted no less than two well-surveyed escape routes, a necessity for such as small holding.

[intrepid42]

MAEGAR

Growing up the child of a small dwarven family in Durmlurmrin, he took the tales of ancient clans and holds to heart. His father claimed ancient descent from Oghrann, the exact circumstances being unclear, but the context implied a family grouping caught up in a larger exodus from the falling kingdom of old. While planned marriages remain a feature, the Waterdeep dwarves are a (relatively) cosmopolitan lot, and he can also trace heritage from Adbar via his mother's side, and so on to a variety of ancient kingdoms via various lines, all the way back to the kingdoms of Shanatar.

A studious sort, he developed a life-long interest in what scraps of lore and heritage he could find. Like many dwarves, he trained as a smith at his mother's side, then was apprentice to a wandering cleric of Moradin. He ventured to Cormyr via the Western Dalelands, where he remained for a time. Hearing of whispers, and then rumours, and then solid trader tale of Oghrann, he walked upon the road from Easting, whereupon he heard of the pronouncement of the so-called "Baron of the Stonelands", and his tale in our setting began.

[intrepid42]

APPRENTICESHIP

"Tell me, Maegar Darkfell, Son of Tolin."

Maegar is stirred from his study of the book on the dining table before him to face his Teacher. The dining hall is otherwise empty, but for the sound of one of the holding's dwarves cleaning that morning's pots and pans in the kitchen beyond.

"You have arrived early to the consecration of a cellar shrine, let us say under the outskirts of the Trades Ward. All are eager for you to consecrate the ironwork that is almost finished. They desire not to... waste... the time of one of the All-Father's priests, and a devout longbeard wishes to finish the forging on-site to save time."

The grizzled elder Sonnlinor pauses for a moment, then turns his head slowly to regards Maegar enquiringly, one brow quirked.

Maegar ponders matters for a moment, then responds, hesistantly. "I decline most politely, Artificer Borin".

Borin quirks his wandering brow even higher, and motions to Maegar to continue.

"Ah... well, while an unsanctified working forge in a small shrine can be used and extinguished, the consecrated hearth within any Temple cannot be allowed to fade. The distinction is knowledge, but needs wisdom to be... ah... understanding. Our kin may be troubled by the thought, or even choose to never leave the Forge unfed, once first used on consecrated ground. This would be a burden to them."

His teacher looks stern for a moment, then nods in slow agreement.

"Well thought, young Maegar. For above all else, the Sonnlinor must not add to His Children's burdens. They have burdens enough. Hmmm, let us try another."

"You are on your pilgrimage, which you have... as we both know... eagerly anticipated. Around a campfire of travellers and wanderers you meet a stout warrior from an Eastern hold, let us say of the Dalelands perhaps. He gives devotion to Moradin, as is right and proper, but you note he does not speak His name, as is our Doctrine here, and has been for generations since Starag of Thuulum placed the first stone. I am curious to hear what action you would take."

Maegar brightens, and answers confidently. "I speak His name in my own devotions, Artificer. For Moradin belongs to all, and not just those Tempered by his service. It is not my place to impose Doctrine on those from other Paths."

His teacher frowns, then walks to one end of the lone table, stroking his bearded chin in thought as he replies.

"That is... one... correct choice, Maegar. But not the deeper mystery. This warrior is not a kin of the hold, whom you will have many chances to see in years ahead, so as to correct any... misunderstandings. That is the keystone of our choice. It is our place to ask, gain wisdom from the experiences of others, and if we see fit, to advise."

"But you may never meet that warrior again. And you are with others, and to advise newly-met kin in the company of strangers is a difficult thing. Our martial kin may taken offence, or even worse take our wisdom as the Eternal Wisdom of Moradin rather than that of His mortal servants and see fit to impose it on others. So you may ask, and advise. But with great care. Especially at first."

"These writings you learn at my behest, they are from the great Halls of the Old Realms. You will find, as I once did, that the wandering priest must temper his wisdom with experience in ways that seem strange. The hammer of the Pilgrim must perhaps be tempered less to hardness than that of the hold guard, so it is less brittle, lest the hammer break far from the forge."

"But enough from myself. I believe you are off to see Rorrina shortly, for further distillation practice before you leave? I will not deny the value of Herbalism, especially for a lone wanderer, and you have balanced your various endeavours rather better than most. But, perhaps such as the High Forgesmiths would advise you to spend more time on your devotions?"

Borin finishes his pacings on the other side of the table from Maegar, and once more quirks a brow enquiringly.

Maegar gulps, but responds quickly

"Ah... but if the first thing is to not add burdens to our kin. Then is not the second to take burdens from them in ways that strengthen them?"

His teacher returns his gaze sternly, but there is perhaps a softness in his eyes as he replies.

"Well. Perhap I teach you too well, young Maegar. Best you be off to see our Rorrina. I am as eager to hear reliable word of the stories we hear from the East as you are."