Post by bibli on Nov 23, 2008 14:03:37 GMT -5
I finally finished my story! (And if you've read Chorwyn's tale, you might discover something! Also, Fibur will be Chorwyn's dwarf rune-keeper alt) Here ya are:
The silence was deafening. The funeral had just ended, and Biblur was heading for the doorway when a hooded figure blocked his way. He recognized him; it was the son of Migan, the dwarf he had killed. "I'm sorry boy," Biblur said with passion, "I didn't mean for it to happen!" For a dwarf to die without honor was a tragedy indeed, almost greater than the death itself.
Biblur had simply been training with a bow that day, it had been like any other archery practice. However, Migan foolishly rushed onto the field to retrieve his arrows, and Biblur had struck him with one of his own.
Although he couldn't see the lad's face, he could feel his anger as he wrote strange runes on a stone tablet he carried. "You have taken away my father's honor, and now I will take yours," the lad seethed. The young dwarf wrote furiously on his tablet, and upon completion, raised it dramatically above his head. "I curse your family, may they will never die with honor!" At the end of his threat, he threw the tablet downwards and it broke upon the ground, lightning escaping from it's edges as it made a thunderous sound. "Now you will learn what happens to those that kill rune keepers," the boy said as he stomped away.
Naturally, many were shocked at this outburst, and tried to console Biblur. Biblur smiled grimly, "The boy was just angry, and rightly so," he said, "I'm sure nothing will come with it." Biblur exited the funeral house and stepped outside, breathed in the air, and started down the steps. However, the unthinkable happened. Although it was not winter, ice had formed on the steps, and when he took his first, he lost his balance and fell headfirst. (Heh, that rhymed!) Blackness took him, and his last thought was that the curse must have taken affect, and that his family would be without honor forever.
*Many years later*
"I'm sorry Bibli," Fibur said, "she must have been close to you." Bibli looked over at Fibur surprisingly, "Is he serious?" Bibli thought. It almost seemed like the old dwarf was hiding a smile. "No, Fibur would never be nice to anyone."
The curse, Bibli knew, had taken full effect. Bibli had never found how it came to be, but his family had always died without honor.
The first funeral he had gone to was his grandfather's; he had died while trying to make fire arrows. Strangely, he managed to get some of the oil on his beard, and once he tried to light them, he had been burned alive. Jokingly, some of the dwarves called him "Flamebeard," a strange nickname, but fitting nonetheless.
The second funeral had been his father's funeral some weeks ago. In a drunken stupor, had wandered into a cave that goblins had happened to be sleeping in on that night. What was strange was that the entrance was supposed to be guarded that night by a lass named Chorwyn, but she had been accused of robbing a dwarven vault. Bibli or his mother had never drank since that day.
And now, the third funeral, Bibli's own mother. She had worn a dress that was a bit too long for her and tripped over it, landing in just the right position to break her neck. He had tried to learn to sober over these types of things, deaths like this in the family were not uncommon according to his father, but he had loved his mother dearly. "Well, I might as well get back to duty," Bibli claimed.
Bibli walked in the direction of the Silver Deep mine. The outside of it was usually a nice, quiet place to craft weapons; a task he enjoyed immensely. However, a great party was gathered there, prepared to leave on some sort of trip. "Bibli!" A dwarf, whose name he couldn't quite remember, shouted. He gestured towards Bibli and called to him again. He didn't quite know what he wanted, or what this great party was about, but the dwarf was standing beside a wizard, and that must have meant something grand!
"See? Why not Bibli here? A fine dwarf he is, and a great metalsmith!" The wizard sighed, adjusted his hat, and grew unnaturally tall. He boomed with a loud voice, "I will not be questioned in this! A fine dwarf he might be, but we have no more need of them! A burglar is what we need! Either you hire a burglar or you will never have your treasures returned, at least not with my help!" The dwarf beside Bibli grumbled something about trusting wizards, and seemed to not want to question him further. He said with a nervous voice, "Bibli... I believe Thorin Oakshield needs a favor from someone like you, please go see what he needs."
Bibli turned to walk away, and noticed the nervous dwarf following him. The wizard cleared his throat, "We are not done discussing hiring a burglar master dwarf." Bibli might have laughed at a moment like this, but the day had already grown too grim. Thorin Oakshield look at him with pity as he crossed the courtyard. "I am truely sorry I could not come to your mother's funeral Bibli," he said, "but we are otherwise occupied. You know how important this trip is to us." Thorin looked over Bibli shoulder at the wizard and sighed, "We've already taken too much time already!" Thorin looked at Bibli again. "Bibli, even if this curse still rings true, you are still an honorable dwarf in my eyes. Your swordsmanship is well-known in our kingdom, and so is your weaponcrafting." Bibli smiled at the comment; he was skilled in swordsmanship, but his weaponcrafting certainly wasn't known throughout the kingdom, Thorin Oakshield must be wanting a favor. "Thank you, but I believe you wanted me to do something?"
And that is how it began. Bibli started with that one adventure; doing a favor for Thorin Oakshield. However, many more adventures and favors would come. Bibli eventually met a fine kin named the Pillagers of Pipeweed, and now seeks to continue his adventures and his goal to break the curse by dying honorably. Will he die with honor? Only time will tell...
The silence was deafening. The funeral had just ended, and Biblur was heading for the doorway when a hooded figure blocked his way. He recognized him; it was the son of Migan, the dwarf he had killed. "I'm sorry boy," Biblur said with passion, "I didn't mean for it to happen!" For a dwarf to die without honor was a tragedy indeed, almost greater than the death itself.
Biblur had simply been training with a bow that day, it had been like any other archery practice. However, Migan foolishly rushed onto the field to retrieve his arrows, and Biblur had struck him with one of his own.
Although he couldn't see the lad's face, he could feel his anger as he wrote strange runes on a stone tablet he carried. "You have taken away my father's honor, and now I will take yours," the lad seethed. The young dwarf wrote furiously on his tablet, and upon completion, raised it dramatically above his head. "I curse your family, may they will never die with honor!" At the end of his threat, he threw the tablet downwards and it broke upon the ground, lightning escaping from it's edges as it made a thunderous sound. "Now you will learn what happens to those that kill rune keepers," the boy said as he stomped away.
Naturally, many were shocked at this outburst, and tried to console Biblur. Biblur smiled grimly, "The boy was just angry, and rightly so," he said, "I'm sure nothing will come with it." Biblur exited the funeral house and stepped outside, breathed in the air, and started down the steps. However, the unthinkable happened. Although it was not winter, ice had formed on the steps, and when he took his first, he lost his balance and fell headfirst. (Heh, that rhymed!) Blackness took him, and his last thought was that the curse must have taken affect, and that his family would be without honor forever.
*Many years later*
"I'm sorry Bibli," Fibur said, "she must have been close to you." Bibli looked over at Fibur surprisingly, "Is he serious?" Bibli thought. It almost seemed like the old dwarf was hiding a smile. "No, Fibur would never be nice to anyone."
The curse, Bibli knew, had taken full effect. Bibli had never found how it came to be, but his family had always died without honor.
The first funeral he had gone to was his grandfather's; he had died while trying to make fire arrows. Strangely, he managed to get some of the oil on his beard, and once he tried to light them, he had been burned alive. Jokingly, some of the dwarves called him "Flamebeard," a strange nickname, but fitting nonetheless.
The second funeral had been his father's funeral some weeks ago. In a drunken stupor, had wandered into a cave that goblins had happened to be sleeping in on that night. What was strange was that the entrance was supposed to be guarded that night by a lass named Chorwyn, but she had been accused of robbing a dwarven vault. Bibli or his mother had never drank since that day.
And now, the third funeral, Bibli's own mother. She had worn a dress that was a bit too long for her and tripped over it, landing in just the right position to break her neck. He had tried to learn to sober over these types of things, deaths like this in the family were not uncommon according to his father, but he had loved his mother dearly. "Well, I might as well get back to duty," Bibli claimed.
Bibli walked in the direction of the Silver Deep mine. The outside of it was usually a nice, quiet place to craft weapons; a task he enjoyed immensely. However, a great party was gathered there, prepared to leave on some sort of trip. "Bibli!" A dwarf, whose name he couldn't quite remember, shouted. He gestured towards Bibli and called to him again. He didn't quite know what he wanted, or what this great party was about, but the dwarf was standing beside a wizard, and that must have meant something grand!
"See? Why not Bibli here? A fine dwarf he is, and a great metalsmith!" The wizard sighed, adjusted his hat, and grew unnaturally tall. He boomed with a loud voice, "I will not be questioned in this! A fine dwarf he might be, but we have no more need of them! A burglar is what we need! Either you hire a burglar or you will never have your treasures returned, at least not with my help!" The dwarf beside Bibli grumbled something about trusting wizards, and seemed to not want to question him further. He said with a nervous voice, "Bibli... I believe Thorin Oakshield needs a favor from someone like you, please go see what he needs."
Bibli turned to walk away, and noticed the nervous dwarf following him. The wizard cleared his throat, "We are not done discussing hiring a burglar master dwarf." Bibli might have laughed at a moment like this, but the day had already grown too grim. Thorin Oakshield look at him with pity as he crossed the courtyard. "I am truely sorry I could not come to your mother's funeral Bibli," he said, "but we are otherwise occupied. You know how important this trip is to us." Thorin looked over Bibli shoulder at the wizard and sighed, "We've already taken too much time already!" Thorin looked at Bibli again. "Bibli, even if this curse still rings true, you are still an honorable dwarf in my eyes. Your swordsmanship is well-known in our kingdom, and so is your weaponcrafting." Bibli smiled at the comment; he was skilled in swordsmanship, but his weaponcrafting certainly wasn't known throughout the kingdom, Thorin Oakshield must be wanting a favor. "Thank you, but I believe you wanted me to do something?"
And that is how it began. Bibli started with that one adventure; doing a favor for Thorin Oakshield. However, many more adventures and favors would come. Bibli eventually met a fine kin named the Pillagers of Pipeweed, and now seeks to continue his adventures and his goal to break the curse by dying honorably. Will he die with honor? Only time will tell...