The Tables of the Histories of the Stoneborn of Dynkyr - Table XXIV

I am Ulugar Bannahr, Twenty-first Regn of Dynkyr. My lamentations will be the XXIV Table of the Stoneborn of Dynkyr.

The outer siege was brief. By some wicked craft, the goblins learned our Watchwords through their Circles of Vile Congress. We heard them chanting and calling into flames in the eye of night. They had broken themselves against the curtain wall, but with our Watchwords ascended Mir Vath and poured into the outer halls. Thus the siege was ended above, and began below.

Three years have passed since then, measured not only by seasons in the upper vents but by the emptying of rationed stores and the thinning of voices. We counted grain. We counted water. We counted the living. Now there is nothing left to count.

I sent messengers. I sent them to the kings of men, for we had raised their cities and shaped their stone, and I believed memory would answer debt. I believe now that none of my messengers came through. Either they were taken upon the plains, or they were received and not believed. It matters no longer.

We have tunneled our escape from the Deepwards and today I ordered the last of my people out. It's only a matter of time before they find our escape route under their noses.

I do not name it exile. I do not name it flight. I name it life.

Relief is not coming. Our numbers are too few. The stores are spent. I sent my beloved Stoneborn out onto the plains, into the cruelty of chance. Some wept. Some would not go. I had them carried if they would not walk.

Now I sit the throne alone.

This seat was not made for comfort. It was made for weight. I feel it now upon my bones. Around me are the broken seals of chambers that held for centuries. I hear the goblins hammering at the barred doors, their iron is crude but their hate is tireless. Each barrier falls in its turn. Each sound draws nearer.

I am not afraid of captivity, but I will not endure it.

Before me lies the silver blade of Clan, first husband of Mya, whose grief founded this place and whose steel has not dimmed. I took it from the vault myself. It is well-balanced. It remembers its purpose.

I think of the wall, still standing. I think of the Valkauna, unseen. I think of the Lady Mya and how desperate she must have been. I have no counselor to blame. No Caros deceives me. I commanded those who walked out into the light.

Dynkyr does not fall today. It empties.

Let it be written, if anything of this is remembered:

I did not beg.

I did not flee.

They are breaking the last door.

I rise from the throne.