Prelude - Deep Mines

Dygon plummeted down into the darkness of the collapsing mine shaft as he reached out to cling to something attempting to save his fall. His life flashed before his eyes as he fell, not knowing when the bottom would hit, or for how long he would fall, wondering if this was the end. His body suddenly slammed into a pile of fallen rock, knocking the wind out of his lungs, rolling to a stop on the chilled stone floor. Laying flat on his dwarven mining pack in utter darkness, deep within the depths of the mines, he felt around to determine if anything was broken around the pain he felt on his side from the impact.

You took 9 bludgeoning fall damage

Your HP is now 18/27

The dust from the heap of fallen and crumbled rock still settled in the surrounding darkness, as he heard the crash of the last falling rocks from above, hitting the stone floor on which he laid.

“Nothing broken, I think.” Dygon thought as he inspected his side, “I must have fallen at least twenty paces.” Feeling lucky, the fall was not too far and his body seemed to be in one piece. He glanced up above to see the collapsed hole in the mine shaft from which he fell. Searching around his short body, he looked for the extra torch connected to his mining belt, as he lost his mining lamp during the collapse. His eyes started adjusting to the dark as the dust settled. Surprised to notice a great cavern like opening before him as he attempted to peer through the shadows. Wondering if he would discover the Mithril he searched for, the deep silvery like treasure his heart longed to find once again for his Kingdom. His heart broke as a young dwarf when he had learned what happened to the old Mithril mines of Winter Reach. Once thriving with silver like streams of Mithril running through stone in the depths of the mountain, those mines had dried up decades ago. Forming at great depths, hunting for Mithril is a dangerous business for any dwarf, even though the mining skill of the dwarves is unmatched. However, he continued to delve deep, determined to be the one to find Mithril again, to restore the prized glory and beauty of precious Winter Reach Mithril to the kingdom. Dygon longed to restore the pride of his kingdom and kin, their fabled works of weaponry and armor, for from Mithril was crafted the finest, sharpest blades, and the unyielding impenetrable armors of legend. The dwarves were known for fashioning objects of great beauty and wealth out of the gems, jewels, and precious metals of the deep. But the mines have run dry, and they have had no Mithril to craft with for decades now. Dygon longed for it beyond anything else. The feel of the hammer in his hands striking rock, the light shining off the sparkling gems as he worked by fire lamp light. This was a genuine joy in which he found nowhere else but down in the mines.

“What is this place?” Dygon wondered, as he slowly picked himself up, glancing around the cool and dark open cavern in the deepest point of the Winter Reach mines. He took his extra torch attached to his belt, stretching out his other palm holding it towards the top of the cloth wrapped torch, as a hot orange flame suddenly formed circling out of Dygon’s palm as it then grew up launching itself straight onto the tip of the torch engulfing it in flame. As the flame gave off its light in the dark, the cavern lit up to reveal an opening that stretched out before him to be what looked like thirty paces wide, and fifty paces back before hitting a stone wall.

Dygon stepped into the cavern as his curiosity drove him forward. He noticed with a sudden shock the bones of an assortment of dead corpses laid and scattered about the cavern floor. As he drew nearer to several dead corpses for further inspection, he immediately noticed a different head and body structure, teeth and fangs then what he expected. Dygon quickly realized these were not bones and skulls of dwarves, but bones and skulls of goblins and trolls. Dygon’s heart began quickly pounding as a shiver of fear coursed through his spine. In reaction, he immediately turned, glancing in all directions about him in the deep darkness as he quickly drew the mining pickaxe which hung on his back lest anything here be alive. It was the only form of weapon he currently had on him as he wished for his battle axe. Dygon glanced around for what he might see lurking in the surrounding darkness, afraid that his obsession for mithril caused him to delve too deep this time. For the obsession with the blessing of Mithril can be a curse that can cause one to delve too greedily, and too deep. Quickly, he turned in each direction, holding up the torch to be sure of his surroundings and what may lie in the shadows. Taking a deep breath, all he heard was the flickering flame of his torch. Dygon cautiously walks forward towards the back wall as his heart pounded from the sight of decaying goblin and troll. At the state of the bones and skulls, they had been there a very long time from the looks of them. A great unease rose within him as Dygon suddenly heard the crack of goblin bone under his boot as he crept forward. This was a sight that had not been seen in the mines of Winter Reach before, at least as far as Dygon knew. One moment mining for precious metals, gems, and jewels, seeking to strike mithril once again, which consumed most of his thoughts and desires, then the next moment falling down into utter darkness of an unknown cavern filled with decaying goblin and troll.

“Did I delve too deep?” Dygon wondered as fear for the safety of Winter Reach grew in his heart. He continued to glance about the cavern opening, being mindful of his surroundings for what could lurk in the dark. Dygon continued forward twenty paces from the back of the cavern as it came to the end at the back wall. As the torch lit up, a great stone wall came into view, which appeared to be of dwarven make. Two stone carved columns rose, which stood ten paces apart, one on each side from the ground to the ceiling. Amazed at what he saw which was not from natural formation, he inched forward, holding up the torch bearing its light towards the wall which looked to be of dwarven make. In the middle of the columns was a stone wall and on it was a carved arched doorway, along with two engraved battle axes crossing one another in the center of a mountain covered by the night's stars.

“What is this place? What does it mean?” Dygon pondered. As he gazed upon the dwarven runes which were also carved into the stone within the archways on the top which read;

ᛊᛖᚨᛚᛖᛞ ᛒᛁ ᛏᚨᛚᛁᚾ ᚲᛁᛜ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛚᛟᚱᛞ ᛟᚠ ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᚨᚲᚺ ᚨᚠᛏᛖᚱ ᚦᛖ ᛏᚱᛟᛚᛚ ᚨᚾᛞ ᚷᛟᛒᛚᛁᚾ ᚹᚨᚱᛊ ᛁᛖᚨᚱ 3974 ᛟᚠ ᚦᛖ ᚠᛁᚱᛊᛏ ᚨᚷᛖ

“Sealed by Talin, King and Lord of Winter Reach after the Troll and Goblin Wars. Year 3974 of the first age.”

“Sealed by Talin!” Dygon read to himself in amazement, “Talin lived thousands of years ago. The first age. How could this be? What is this place? Why was this sealed?” Dygon wondered as held the torch up higher, approaching the smoothed stone wall to inspect the other engraved runes which read;

ᛊᛖᚨᛚᛖᛞ ᛒᛁ ᛏᚨᛚᛁᚾ ᚲᛁᛜ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛚᛟᚱᛞ ᛟᚠ ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᚨᚲᚺ ᛚᛖᛏ ᚾᛟ ᛟᚾᛖ ᛟᛈᛖᚾ ᛚᛖᛏ ᚾᛟ ᛟᚾᛖ ᛒᚱᛖᚨᚲ ᛁᛏ×ᛊ ᛊᛖᚨᛚᛖᛞ ᛈᚨᛊᛊᚨᚷᛖ ᛚᛖᛏ ᚾᛟ ᛟᚾᛖ ᛞᛖᛚᚢᛖ ᛒᛖᛚᛟᚹ ᚦᛁᛊ ᛈᛟᛁᚾᛏ ᚠᛟᚱ ᛒᛁ ᛁᛏ ᚦᛖᛁ ᚲᚨᛗᛖ ᚢᛈᛟᚾ ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᚨᚲᚺ ᚠᛟᚱ ᛒᛁ ᛁᛏ ᚦᛖᛁ ᚲᚨᛗᛖ ᚠᚱᛟᛗ ᚦᛖ ᛞᛖᛈᚦᛊ ᛒᛖᛚᛟᚹ ᚠᛟᚱ ᛒᛁ ᛁᛏ ᚨ ᚷᚱᛖᚨᛏ ᛖᚢᛁᛚ ᚲᚨᛗᛖ ᚢᛈᛟᚾ ᚢᛊ ᚠᛟᚱᛖᚢᛖᚱ ᛊᛖᚨᛚᛖᛞ ᚨᚠᛏᛖᚱ ᚦᛖ ᚷᚱᛖᚨᛏ ᛏᚱᛟᛚᛚ ᚨᚾᛞ ᚷᛟᛒᛚᛁᚾ ᚹᚨᚱᛊ ᛗᚨᛁ ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᚨᚲᚺ ᛚᛁᚢᛖ ᛈᚱᛟᛏᛖᚲᛏᛖᛞ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛈᚱᛟᛊᛈᛖᚱ ᛗᚨᛁ ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᚨᚲᚺ ᛚᛁᚢᛖ ᛚᛟᛜ ᛁᚾ ᛈᛖᚨᚲᛖ ᚨᚾᛞ ᛊᚨᚠᛖᛏᛁ ᛗᚨᛁ ᚹᛁᚾᛏᛖᚱ ᚱᛖᚨᚲᚺ ᛖᚾᛞᚢᚱᛖ ᚠᛟᚱᛖᚢᛖᚱ

After reading the engraved runes, his worst fear stood before him. Completely shaken by what he read, Dygon questioned whether his delving and exploration deep in the mines had dangerously risked it all.

“What have we done? I must tell the King now! I must tell father!”