The fifty-foot polished granite arches of the great Gate of Faferdum rose high above Borrombus and the half-dozen stern-faced young dwarfs around him. His immensely fat stomach, his long beard with its gem-encrusted bands, and his dark red tunic all worked to make him stand out as a noble in the little gathering, but the way the other dwarves leaned in to catch his every word made it even more readily apparent. The archway was decorated with etchings of airy creatures flitting back and forth, some with bolts of lightning streaming from clenched fists and others in more peaceful poses.
“We must proceed as if the hammer is lost,” said one of the young dwarves who wore an emerald jerkin with five silver bars on each sleeve. He pounded his right fist into his left palm and spoke in a low but clear voice, “Your nephew has failed and the Firefists are moving against us. They know about our meetings with Corancil. We must strike now before it is too late.”
Borrombus shook his head, “No.”
“We must,” repeated the young lad. “We’ll be rounded up and executed as traitors. They’ll claim we gave away the secret location of Craggen Steep. We’ll be killed in the old way. Iron bars.”
The other young dwarves looked back and forth between one another but other than a few murmurs said nothing.
“Did you hear me Elder Borrombus?” said the talkative young dwarf and took a step closer to the leader of the group.
Borrombus nodded his massive head and his treble-chin wobbled accordingly, “I heard, young master. Do you propose we strike directly? Our warriors against the Golden Pikemen of the High Council? Against the Elite Guard? Those soldiers will remain loyal to the regime if we strike now, you do realize as much?”
“We can take them,” said the young dwarf. “It’s only the elders who want to remain hidden. All the younger dwarves with energy want to join Corancil and strike out into the world. Now is our time. Your plan, the return the hammer, to gain power peacefully, it’s over. We cannot wait any longer.”
“It is more than the elders,” said Borrombus with a shake of his head. “You count as allies the weak-willed, the youth, the down-trodden. They may be the popular majority but they are not the most energetic of people. The soldiers that guard the council, their children, the wealthy with guards, and their allies make up a powerful force. They are armed and organized unlike most of your rabble. We must find a way to arm them, to energize them before we strike.”
“You’re wrong, old man,” said the youth with a shake of his head. “You’re just like the Council Elders on which you sit, out of touch, out of place. It’s not your time anymore, it’s ours.”
“It’s a mistake to attack now,” repeated Borrombus with a shake of his massive head. “That’s just what the Firefists and Drawhammers want. If we strike prematurely they will have all the proof they need of our treachery. The soldiers await a move like this and then they will affect a counter blow and it will be swift and sure. Their plans are in place and we cannot play into them.”
“You’re wrong, old man,” said the youth and again shook his head vigorously. “We’ll do what it takes, and when it comes time to pass out rewards you can get in line and hope we don’t forget.” With that he and all but two of the other young dwarves turned and walked away speaking animatedly to one another as they went.
“Uncle Borrombus,” said one of the two remaining young dwarves as he came close and put his hand on the shoulder of the older dwarf. “There is nothing that can be done to stop them. They’ve been speaking with Corancil. You’ve met the man. You know how persuasive he is. His talk of the best and brightest and how empires are born is impossible to resist.”
Borrombus nodded his head and scratched his beard covered cheek, “You are right enough about Corancil, he’s not much to look at, that one,” he finally said after a pause. “But there is power in his words. He means not to conquer the world but to unite it. He’s naive though, he thinks rewarding those of merit is the solution to all the world’s ills but he has never lived in a tradition soaked place like Craggen Steep. The elders, even in their lazy stupidity, command respect. We have to take things more slowly.”
“It’s too late for that,” said the young dwarf with the large black eyes as he stared directly at Borrombus. “It’s too late. Maybe if Uldex was here…”
“Your brother is a fierce one,” said Borrombus with a smile. “He might have kept the other youngsters in line but, on the other side of the axe blade, he might have been the one to lead them to insurrection. That’s why I sent him away. You’re more level-headed than he.”
“So that is why you sent him to retrieve the hammer?”
Borrombus nodded his head, “One reason at least. Do you think you could take the thing from Delius?”
The young dwarf snorted, “He’d break me in half and never change his expression, uncle. He’s always been an odd one but good with his fists and the axe. Do you think it possible he can slay Gazadum?”
Borrombus laughed and his expression suddenly became one of mirth, “Of course not. Hopefully Uldex will take the hammer from his dead fingers and that way we’re rid of multiple problems at the same time. If only Uldex would get back here with the hammer we’d take control of the mountain and lead the dwarves out under the banner of Craggen Steep as Corancil unites the world. With our money, the discipline of our soldiers, and his leadership, nothing could stand against us.”
“But Uldex isn’t here,” said the young dwarf and clenched his fist under Borrombus’s nose. “I’m here and we have to do something. If we let the others take on the Firefists and Drawhammers by themselves they will be destroyed.”
“That’s true,” said Borrombus. “And we’ll lose most of our allies in the battle.”
“Exactly,” said the lad. “So, what do we do?”
Borrombus sighed, which caused his heavy belly to jiggle a bit and then he shook his head, “I don’t see a winnable solution. I don’t see a way to win. Those damn pompous Firefists. They have the Golden Pikemen and the elite guard and all we have is the dregs.”
“There are a lot of dregs,” said the young dwarf although even he looked to the ground when he said it.
“It’s not about numbers,” said Borrombus. “Numbers don’t hurt but it’s about will, desire, and passion. If we can’t inspire that in the lesser families then we can’t win this fight.”
“So, how do we go about inspiring them?”
Borrombus took his finger to his many bands and tapped one gently, “Corancil is an inspired speaker. If we could somehow get him to speak to the masses…”
“The High Council will never allow it,” said the young dwarf with a rueful smile and a shake of his head.
“It’s not a matter of allow or disallow, it’s a matter of twisting the rules to our advantage. Those old windbags live and die by the letter of the law, and if we somehow find a way to get Corancil inside Craggen Steep to give a speech he might even sway some of those old codgers. He is convincing in his own way. You’ve met him.”
The young dwarf nodded his head, “I saw him speak once and I’ve seen the effect he has on people. Even you must admit that his ideas have merit. Everyone advancing on their own merits instead of whose family they belong to or how much they pay.”
“You say that despite having every advantage of a Blackiron here in Craggen Steep?” said Borrombus turning his eye towards the young dwarf.
The lad nodded his head, “It’s worse now than when you were an apprentice,” he said with a firm mouth and steely eyes. “You should see the morons who get the best promotions and it doesn’t matter if they have any skill or not. Nothing burns more than seeing some incompetent promoted over you because of his last name or his father’s gold. Even we Blackirons get the short of it now. Besides, if things keep going the way they’re going it will be nothing except driveling incompetents on the Council and then we’re doomed anyway. If we don’t join Corancil then Craggen Steep will eventually fall to him anyway.”
Borrombus nodded his great head and tapped at the bands that held his beard in check. “All you say is true and if Corancil could speak to the masses that might be enough to convince even the Elite Guard to change sides. They have to want to set out into the world and test their blades. But how to make it happen, how to make it happen? Go, nephew, go to the library and find council procedural books, the dustier the better. I’ll talk with that stubborn First Edos again and see if he can’t try and trump the council in some manner or another.”
“No one listens to him since the Council banned him from chambers, he’s finished. As soon as Cleathelm gets back they’ll make him First Edos.”
“Cleathelm,” snorted Borrombus, “not even the Firefists would be stupid enough to put such incompetence in the First Edos’s chair.”
“They can and they will, Uncle,” said the dwarf lad with a sad little shake of his head. “It’s gotten very bad down in the apprentice chambers. You don’t know what it’s like. Cleathelm isn’t even the worst of the bunch.”
Borrombus shook his head, “You’re probably right, nephew. I’ve been circling with the exalted ones for so long I’ve lost touch. Your brother helped me in that regard but I was probably fooling myself in thinking I knew what was happening in the upper chambers with the common folk. I’m as bad as the other members of the High Council. But in the end it doesn’t matter. Find those books and let’s see if we can bring some ancient rule to light that will let us bring Corancil into Craggen Steep. Then perhaps we can lead an army out of the Gates of Faferdum and onto the field of battle.” With this he looked up at the towering gates above them and their magnificent arches and carvings. “The Elementals built these,” he said in a quiet voice, “long before we came to this world.”
“What was that, Uncle?” said the lad as he turned around.
“Nothing,” said Borrombus with a shake of his head. “Just the musings of a tired, fat old dwarf.”
The boy stood for a moment and looked at Borrombus with wide eyes.
“Go on, go on,” said the fat dwarf with a wave of his hand. After the young dwarf scurried off, Borrombus turned and looked up at the towering gateway one last time. There were four of them in total, the main entrances to Craggen Steep. The Gates of Gazadum, The Gates of Korakdum, The Gates of Glangaldum, and this one, the Gates of Fafardum. Fire, Earth, Water, and Air. The four ancient creators of the world and now young Dol Delius was going to try and kill Gazadum who had ruled here for who knows how many years. “Maybe it would be best if Uldex took the hammer before Delius attacks,” he mused to himself. “The elementals have been long quiescent but their power, their ancient power, does it hide or does it wait?”