The Lament of Ulugar

I am Ulugar Bannahr, Twenty-first Regn of Dynkyr. This is my lamentation.

The outer siege was brief. By some wicked craft, the goblins learned our Watchwords through their 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 they 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. I have recorded my name on the tables of our people.

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.

They are breaking the last door.

I rise from the throne.

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

Ulugar Bannahr, Twenty-first Regn of Dynkyr. 

I did not beg.

I did not flee.

I am the last. 

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

In the days when Hafgrim ruled Dynkyr alone, the Humans fell into heresy. They elevated certain among their tribes to chieftains, from chieftains to kings, and from kings to objects of veneration. Monuments were raised to their great men, and homage was paid to them as though they were the Aenire of old. Some were revered as if they stood in the place of the Ere All.

We looked upon these things with disquiet.

In sorrow and in disapproval we turned away and once more shut the doors of our world to that which lay beyond. The market was closed to them, and the Deepwards grew silent to foreign tongues. We waited for judgment to come, for surely Baere would not suffer such confusion of flesh and divinity to endure. If the Urok were not spared judgment for the sake of their false god, and if the Stonekin were not spared the Cataclysm, and if the Vyrum brought ruin by their own sacrilege, what then could be expected for the younger race, save destruction?

Thus we withdrew.

Yet despite all that stirred beyond the Curtain, within the Bastions of Dynkyr the Stoneborn prospered. Years of plenty had filled our vaults with treasure and our storehouses beyond imagining. The Five Brothers yielded faithfully. The Arvanaith rang with song and hammer. The greatest of our craftsmen taught their craft to brothers and sons, and the halls were bright with ordered industry.

It seemed to many that the world without was troubled, but the world within remained secure.

Hafgrim was Regn for seven and thirty and two hundreds of years before he died. He was succeeded by Ulugar the Regn.

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

In the days when Morgrim ruled Dynkyr alone, the Urok gave themselves over to fear and to unnatural propagation. For they were greatly troubled by the fecundity of Man and warned that in time no other nation would stand against the numbers the Humans would command.

Fear turned them toward desperation.

By that time the sorcerers of men had grown bold in their imitation of the Fairy witches of old. In seeking mastery over the majk that had been the source of so much sorrow in Erenth, they experimented with forces beyond their understanding and summoned powers from beyond the curtain of the heavens. For this their own people cast them out from their settlements and some came to the Urok in spite.

The Urok, in their dread of dwindling place and fading memory, submitted themselves to arts and pacts ill-considered. Whether by their own design or by corruption wrought through those summoned powers, they were transformed. In each generation their forms grew more coarse and their spirits more burdened, until they became creatures more beast than Besnir.

Thus arose the gobelins.

Some among their line mingled further with the children of the Jotinir, and from those unions came trolls and ogres and the so-called Hill People, of whom Lothar was chieftain and scourge of many realms.

In time the gobelins forgot the people they had once been. No memory of ancient dignity remained among them, only a bitterness without measure and a hatred for all the Besnir that surpassed reason.

Thus was fear made flesh.

Morgrim was Regn for one and forty and two hundreds of years before he died, having seen the corruption of an ancient race and the rise of new terrors. He was succeeded by Hafgrim the Regn.

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

In the days when Keldor ruled Dynkyr alone, the Stonekin—whom others call gnomes—betrayed all the Besnir and bound themselves to the children of the Jotinir, who are called Giants. Our ancient kin joined with our ancient foe.

No treachery cut deeper.

For it was said that the grief in Dynkyr rivaled that of the day when our wives and daughters were taken from us. The Arvanaith rang not with song but with the beating of war-drums, and the names of the Stonekin were spoken with bitterness in every hall.

The Graetlings marched beneath banners wrought with devices of cunning metalwork, for the craft of the Stonekin now armed the giants. Engines were raised that hurled stone farther than before, and cunning traps were laid in the passes. What once had been shared knowledge was turned against us.

Keldor did not hesitate.

He entered the war at the head of his companies and bore the ancient silver axe of our forebears, the same that had been lifted in the first wars of the deep. The Stoneborn answered him without reserve. Though the giants wielded devices unknown in earlier days, and though the Graetlings struck with skill sharpened by gnomish artifice, the Stoneborn did not falter.

In three years the giants were broken and the alliance undone.

What became of the Stonekin in the aftermath is spoken of differently in different halls. Some say they fled; others that they were cast out; still others that their punishment was more enduring than death.

Yet in that same season great strides were made between the Fair Folk and the Stoneborn. For though there had long been mistrust, the threat of the Graetlings pressed ancient adversaries into counsel. Keldor was invited to the Parley of Selazzyne, and there peace was restored among the Fairy peoples themselves, who had been at cross purposes since the days of Fyveld.

Thus from betrayal came unlikely concord.

Keldor was Regn for two and twenty and two hundreds of years before he died. He was succeeded by Morgrim the Regn.

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

In the days when Fyveld ruled Dynkyr alone, the Humans were freed from the restraints of the Vyrum and began to make themselves heard in all the open places of Erenth. No longer bound to the strictures of imperial order, they gathered into tribes and banners, raising their own lords and laws.

Then the Hierophant Vetran spoke from Dovaris and declared that the Seventh Age had begun.

This pronouncement stirred great controversy among the Stoneborn and the Regns of the Seven Duns. No agreement could be reached in council. For until the Edict of Vetran, many had believed that the time of our people would rise once more—that the glory of Dynkyr and the strength of the Deepwards would yet set the measure for all Erenth.

But if a new Age had begun, then it was not named for us.

Thus the Seven Duns withdrew from one another. Councils grew infrequent, and envoys returned unanswered. Each Dun followed the counsel of its own Regn and looked first to its own walls. The fellowship of the Stoneborn endured in name, but not in common purpose.

In those same years Dun Duergar made war upon the Fairies, and the conflict spread until Festog, Oromir, and Balnolmar were drawn into strife. Fyveld kept Dynkyr from that war and would not commit his spears to quarrels that did not threaten his own halls. When at last an armistice was made, he set his name upon it and pledged to renew the peace in due time.

More than Stoneborn or Fairy, it was the Urok who were most angered by the pronouncement of Vetran. For they were an older race, ill-used by time and happenstance, and they took the naming of a new Age as an affront. When the Urok marched against the young race, they came with rage and vengeance, and the Humans were sorely pressed.

Thus it was Fyveld who granted them gifts of Mithril long kept since the Wars of the Deep, that their blades might stand against the rising might of their foes. For the Urok, once roused to anger, were the match of any among the Besnir—save that they knew not immortality, having lost it in the First Age by the pronouncement of Baere.

Yet the gifts did not take root as they once had.

For Humans live but a short span before death claims them, and what one learns is often forgotten by the next. Their kingdoms shift as swiftly as their seasons, and their memory does not endure in stone as ours does.

Fyveld was Regn for thirty and two hundreds of years before he died. He was succeeded by Keldor the Regn.

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

In the days when Gorhald ruled Dynkyr alone, the Old Ones rose from the deep and made war upon all Erenth.

They came from rifts long sealed and waters long undisturbed. Their forms were not wholly known, nor their speech understood, but their intent was plain: the dominion of the younger peoples was to be broken and cast aside.

It was Gorhald who answered the call of the Vyrum and marched to war against those ancient powers. Twenty and one hundred companies of spears and hammerhands he commanded, and they stood firm against a fury that did not tire and a malice that remembered ages before stone was shaped by craft.

When the struggle deepened and the hosts of Erenth faltered, Gorhald sent word across the Four Lands and called for the return of the gifts of Mithril once given in peace. What had been ornament and honor was gathered again into his hands. These he caused to be melted and reforged into axe-blades, sword-edges, spearheads, and arrow-tips. The Fairy-witches of the Terani laid enchantments upon them, and the majk of their craft bound keen edge to ancient bane. Thus were wrought weapons that could wound those which common steel could not slay.

Long and terrible was that war. The last battle at Dry Rift became a grave for many nations. Upon Gorhald’s right and left the rulers of the Besnir fell, and the banners of their peoples were trampled into ash and salt. Yet the Stoneborn did not break.

When at last the Old Ones were cast down and their rising quelled, it was Gorhald who remained standing among the ruin of princes.

And it was there, upon the broken edge of the Dry Rift, that he found Enya of the Terani, a Witch of great renown. She had lost he who had stood beside her in battle and was filled with despair. At war’s end she would have cast herself into the waves rather than endure the silence that follows glory. But Gorhald bore her up and forbade it, speaking not of triumph but of endurance.

Thus was peace purchased, not by pride, but by the refusal to yield to ending.

Gorhald lived for seventy years as Regn after the Battle of the Dry Rift. In those years he watched the Vyrum Republic change in temper and in governance. The Senex gave way to factions, and old forms were recast in ways that troubled many among the Besnir. He saw the rise of new orders and the profaning of old rites. When the War of Four Nations broke upon Erenth, Gorhald closed Dynkyr once more and waited upon the justice of the Ere All rather than cast his people into another ruin.

He lived to see the Vyrum cast down and the dim years that followed.

Gorhald was Regn for five and ninety and one hundred years before he died, beloved among many nations. He was mourned by Dwarves and Besnir alike, and at his passing a feast was held in Dynkyr to which rulers of many peoples came. It was the last time any who were not Stoneborn entered those halls in fellowship.

He was succeeded by Fyveld the Regn.

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

In the days when Durek ruled Dynkyr alone, our people discovered at long last the Promise of Numli. For in the Valley of Summer, before the coming of the Cataclysm, the Paramount Numli—who was called the Tharma of Kohl—had spoken a word over the furnaces and foretold that an ore would be found and alloyed that would be lighter than copper, harder than iron, and more pleasing to the eye than gold.

For many ages that word was remembered, though the ore was not known.

In the deep workings beneath Dynkyr, where veins were traced not for coin but for curiosity, a pale metal was uncovered, neither dull nor bright, but with a luster like moonlight upon still water. The smiths tested it by hammer and flame, and they found that it did not weary under blows as iron does, nor tarnish as silver will. When alloyed with secret measure, it yielded a substance strong yet supple, cool to the touch and keen to the edge.

Thus the Stoneborn fashioned Mithril.

They made of it ornaments and sculptures, hinges and clasps, circlets and chain, and its working was said to be like pouring light into stone. It could be bent without breaking and shaped with delicacy unknown to other metals. And though it was rare, it did not demand great weight to command great worth.

Gifts of Mithril were sent to rulers across the Four Lands and beyond. The Senex received it with admiration. The Terani coveted it in silence. Even those who had once dismissed the Stoneborn spoke now with renewed respect. Mithril was prized more highly than coigns of gold or silver, for it bore not only beauty but wonder.

Thus was fulfilled the Promise of Numli, and the name of the Tharma of Kohl was spoken once more in the Arvanaith with reverence.

Durek was Regn for three and forty and two hundreds of years before he died, having seen the word of ancient prophecy made manifest in his time. He was succeeded by Gorhald the Regn.

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

In the days when Thorlin ruled Dynkyr alone, there was plenty and quiet within the Bastions.

The Primum of the Alds had been set aside, and in his place the power and glory of the Vyrum rested in the Senex, one hundred in number, who held sway across the face of Erenth. Their dominion they named the Republic, and it spread throughout the Four Lands bringing order and prosperity. The Cavaliers of the Vyrum were counted guardians of peace and justice, and few evils could withstand them.

Under the Senex, gold and silver once more flowed to the mints of Dynkyr. The Stoneborn were invited to strike coigns anew, and the sound of hammer upon die was heard again in the lower halls. What had once been a memory of wealth became present coin.

The Vyrum also sought our counsel in the laying and carving of stone. At Ald Ciula they had raised a great center of learning, and not a few of the Grandmaster masons and smiths of Dynkyr now sojourned there. Now their names were recorded with honor beyond the Deepwards. In those years the craft of the Stoneborn was esteemed in lands where once we had been regarded only as recluses of the mountain.

There was talk among some that the Deepwards might be abandoned and that the Stoneborn could once again dwell upon the surface as did other nations. Yet such voices were few. For Dynkyr had grown fair beyond measure. The sun-wells poured golden light into the depths, and the draftways carried air as cool and clean as any highland breeze. The Five Brothers were abundant. The halls rang not with alarm but with industry.

Few believed the world without to be greater than the world within.

The Deepwards had become at once museum and workshop, chronicle and cathedral. Every family could trace its lineage upon the stone, and the deeds of fathers were carved beside the names of sons. To walk the halls was to walk the memory of the Stoneborn themselves.

Thus prosperity returned, yet the mountain was not forsaken.

Thorlin was Regn for three and forty and two hundreds of years before he died, having ruled in years of peace and esteem. He was succeeded by Durek the Regn.

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

In the days when Kranig ruled Dynkyr alone, the Vyrum Alds became the greatest powers in all the world. For the strength of the Fairies had been broken, and in their place the Alds rose in might. The Primum and Alternum of those dominions grew wealthy beyond compare, and the tread of their armies was said to shake Erenth itself.

Kranig did not trust that even the Bastions of Dynkyr would stand secure against such strength.

So it was that when Larifon Emeratus was Primum of Ald Saloren, he rode at the head of a great host and came before the Curtain set between Mir Vath and Mir Nahr. His banners were many, and his ranks stood in ordered silence upon the plain. There he called for Kranig and demanded his obeisance, declaring that by just tribute the Stoneborn of Dynkyr would know safety and prosperity beneath the protection of his Ald.

Larifon was known to be as measured as he was powerful, and his word, once given, was seldom broken.

Kranig weighed the matter long within the Deepwards. At last he walked forth from the Bastions and passed through the gate in full sight of both hosts. Before the Curtain, and before his own people upon the ramparts, he bent the knee to the Primum of Ald Saloren.

Thus tribute was agreed, and peace secured.

Under Larifon’s protection Westrun knew long quiet, and Dynkyr did not suffer want in those years. Trade flowed freely. The Deepwards remained inviolate. No army laid siege to the Curtain.

Yet the Stoneborn did not look kindly upon the memory of that day. Though they did not want, they did not forget. In the Arvanaith the tale was recited without ornament, and the bending of the knee was counted as necessity, not honor.

Kranig the Kneeler was Regn for four and two hundreds of years before he died. He was succeeded by Thorlin the Regn.

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

In the days when Brannor ruled Dynkyr alone, the Derro emerged from the Durur and brought strife into the halls of Dynkyr. These were they who had pursued the Grimlock in the days of Urlem, following Urthur, brother of the Regn, into the far reaches of the deep. In that campaign many passages were sealed—whether by necessity or mischance—and the Derro were lost to sight for long years.

They came not as supplicants, but as claimants, naming the Stoneborn their debtors and demanding recompense for the wars they had waged in darkness.

The Derro were changed by their time in Durur. Their skin had turned pale as chalk and their hair had faded in the lightless depths. Their eyes were gray and dim, seeing poorly in brightness yet keen in shadow. Their arms and armor no longer bore the mark of the forge, but were fashioned from the hides, bones, and chitin of beasts that dwell in the deepest caverns. They spoke our tongue, yet with harsh cadence, and their customs had grown strange.

They were of our blood, yet no longer of our manner.

The Derro found little welcome in Dynkyr. Disputes arose in council and quarrels in the streets. Some among the Stoneborn named them heroes long abandoned; others called them wild and unfit for the order of the Dun.

At length Brannor, seeking peace within his walls, granted them charter to found Dun Dalurdig in Durur under the regency of the son of Urthur. Thus the Derro were given hold and hearth of their own, and the Stoneborn were spared open conflict—though not division.

And Brannor was Regn for thirteen and two hundreds of years before he died. He was succeeded by Kranig the Regn.

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

In the days when Helmgar ruled Dynkyr alone, the majk of the Fairies reached its foulest nadir. In their pride and in their fear of waning dominion, they wrought a terror upon Erenth such as had not been seen since the drowning of the Valley of Summer.

By curse and binding, and by arts better left forgotten, they unleashed the Terrasque upon the world.

Great was its swath of destruction. Cities were leveled. Fields were made barren. Rivers were turned from their courses. Many Besnir were slain before the beast was brought low, and its passing scarred the lands long after its flesh was scattered.

The Stoneborn did not war alone in those days, for even the Terani who had loosed the terror could not master it. For two years the peoples of Erenth contended with the creature, and victory came at grievous cost.

Thus were stoked the fires of rebellion against the Fairies. The arrogance that had long been endured was no longer suffered. Alliances were formed where none had stood before, and the power of the Fairy Lords began to wane. In the years that followed, their dominion faltered and collapsed.

Yet the scars of their pride did not fade swiftly. A faction of the Fairies called the Drow fought wars of sabotage against all the Stoneborn of all the Duns. When they were finally brought to heel by their own kind, the Drow were sentenced to exile at the end of the Gunvirega River. To watch over them the Regns of Five Duns set the Duergar as wardens over them at Nil Duergara.

Helmgar was Regn for nine and twenty and two hundreds of years before he died, having seen both the terror of the Terrasque and the breaking of the Fair ascendancy. He was succeeded by Brannor the Regn.

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

In the days when Urlem ruled Dynkyr alone, he turned his gaze not toward the plains, nor toward the Terani, but downward into the mountain. Where Haren had ordered what was built, Urlem sought to extend it. He caused the bastions of Dynkyr to grow deeper and more far-reaching, and the shafts once sunk for metal were broadened into highways beneath the earth.

The Gunvirega River was explored along its hidden courses, and its tributaries were charted with care. Where its waters drew near to the domains of Neblodi, Urlem founded Nil Duergara, a holdfast and exchange near the Stonekin of the old world. By this he sought to bind Dynkyr and Neblodi in firmer alliance, that knowledge and trade might pass more freely between our peoples.

For a time, this design prospered.

It was in those days that the Grimlock were discovered.

Their origin was uncertain, and much debated in the Arvanaith. Some said they were fallen beings of the old world who had wandered too long in lightless caverns. Others believed they were wrought by the majk of the Fairy Witches, who, having imitated the Gnummorong, sought to fashion thralls of humankind in darker form. Whatever their beginning, they were fierce, cunning, and numerous in the lower reaches of the Durur.

They coveted the rivers and the salt veins, and would not yield them.

Urlem instituted the Derro and appointed his brother Urthur as their captain. For twelve years the companies warred against the Grimlock for mastery of the Durur. The fighting was bitter and without sun. Whole tunnels were collapsed to deny passage. The Gunvirega ran red more than once, and the draftways carried not only air, but smoke and ash. It was a war fought without glory, for no banners flew and no plains were won—only stone upon stone and darkness contested.

At last victory was declared at the Salt Falls. Urlem ordered that many passages be sealed thereafter, but one company of the Derro led by his brother Urthur, was believed lost and sealed up on the Morlock side. These were not seen again and many myths abound that the lost company continued the war against the Grimlock.

Urlem was Regn for thirteen and two hundreds of years before he died, having secured the deep roads and strengthened the bonds with Neblodi. It is said that he died with the name of his brother on his lips.

He was succeeded by Helmgar the Regn.

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

In the days when Haren ruled Dynkyr alone, he was the second of his name, for his twice-great grandsire was thus named and well remembered among our people. As Regn he bore that memory carefully, and from his youth he was mindful that a name may be inherited, but honor must be earned anew. He strove to do nothing that would imperil the renown of his forebear, nor stain the line from which he came.

Therefore our people were strengthened by his wisdom and led by his steadiness into long prosperity and health. He did not seek conquest, nor did he provoke the Besnir with boast or threat. Rather he turned his hand to ordering the Deepwards in the heart of the mountain. Under Haren, abundance did not lead to excess.

The bastions of Dynkyr became a shining testament to the craft of the greatest smiths and masons among the Stoneborn. No hall was raised without purpose; no pillar carved without intent. In the heart of the mountain he caused to be built the Arvanaith, which bore his name. It was not a fortress, nor a mint, nor a council chamber, but a hall of song and remembrance. There the songs of our yearning were heard and the chronicles of our people were recited without ceasing through every year and season. Hammers rang in measured cadence upon anvils set into the floor, so that craft and memory were joined. Thus it is rightly said that in Dynkyr the halls rang with the sound of hammers and hearts alike.

Haren was Regn for four, forty, and three hundreds of years before he died, having tasted both the old age of peace and the sorrow of natural passing. His death was marked by mourning in the Arvanaith for seven years, and his name was entered into the stones without reproach.

He was succeeded by Urlem the Regn.

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

In the days when Uloin ruled Dynkyr alone, the Dwenir learned the bitterness of natural death. Before that time our fathers lived until war or labor took them, but they did not perish of age or infirmity. After the Peace of Sinowar, this was no longer so. Long years passed without battle, and life, unharried, came at last to an appointed end.

In those days the Dwenir and the Besnir drew apart.

The Peace of Sinowar brought greater order among the Duns, but those who were not Stoneborn were set ever farther from the counsels of the Dwenir. The market at the gate of Dynkyr remained open, yet gone were the days when the Besnir might seek refuge behind the curtain; and gone also were the days when the Dwenir would have permitted it.

The years of war had taught our people the measure of privation. We learned that metal, no matter how precious nor how deeply piled, cannot sustain the body. From our kin of Neblodi we learned the doctrine of the five brothers: palefish, sweet root, skinwings, vampa and threadgrass. For the Stoneborn were resolved that they would never again lack for stores, even should their mints fail them utterly.

In that time the Deepwards became bastions.

No longer did our forebears build where the inevitabilities and temptations of war might reach. Instead they filled the mines and shafts once cut for gold and silver with halls, dwellings, and store-vaults set far beyond the grasp of siege or flame. By means of sun-wells and draftways, light and breath were brought downward, and life itself was drawn into the deep. Thus Dynkyr was turned inward, and the heart of the mountain became the shelter of our people.

More and more we left the plains and drew away, seeking places where strife could not readily follow. Yet upon the surface there were those who were not content to see us depart. The Terani, whom some call fairy, had grown in power during the years when the Regns withdrew, and they misread our silence as intent. Silk-clad lords came into our lands, demanding obeisance and seeking to compel our attendance at their courts, as though the Stoneborn were vassals to be summoned.

And from their inexhaustable pride a seed of bitterness was planted in our hearts. That bitterness endured long beyond the death of Uloin, who was the first Regn among us to taste natural death. After nine, eighty and two hundreds of years, his passing was mourned. Not as the fall of a warrior, was he mourned, but as the setting of a sun.

He was succeeded upon the throne by Haren the Regn.

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

After the days when Therol ruled Dynkyr alone, the crowns of the Dwenir passed swiftly, and none who bore them were long at peace. The rule that followed was harsh and brief, for authority no longer rested easily upon any single head.

Egaron succeeded Therol and was Regn for seven years. Harhold followed him and held the crown for three. After him came Munn, who ruled for but a single year before the Dunic Wars were kindled. Munn was a cruel Regn and unforgiving. His tongue was sharp and his temper short, and it was said that he oft remembered slights that none knew had been made.

In those days the decrees of Dynkyr grew pointed, and punishment was favored where counsel had once prevailed. Each Regn sought to impose restraint by force, and in doing so hastened the loss of what little trust yet remained.

Then it was said among the Besnir that the Dwenir could no longer bear a crown—not because they were faithless, nor because they lacked wisdom, but because they had grown too many in will and too equal in wealth to suffer one voice above the rest.

From that saying the Dunic Wars took their first breath.

Oromir, Festog, and Dynkyr rose against one another, and for five long years their battles raged, until Sinovor the Hierophant was able to negotiate a peace. But the peace was troubled, and trust between the Duns did not recover.

When Munn was slain after five years at Golin's Ridge he was succeeded by Uloin the Regn and a time of peace dawned.

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

In the days when Therol ruled Dynkyr alone, the relationships between the Duns grew uneasy. For though they were founded by the sons of Clangeddin, only Fesig remained from that first generation.

Dun Usega was cut off from the others by the vast Ice Reach. Dun Ur had neither sent nor received word since before the time of Clangeddin and the victory over Yrsog Firemane. Dun Balnolmar sat near the top of the world, eschewing the prosperity of coigns and thus remaining apart. While Festog, Oromir, and Dynkyr spoke to each other as kin, they came to plot against one another in the manner of those who fear want.

In those days the coigns of Dynkyr were of true gold, silver, and copper, and none could say otherwise. They bore their full weight, rang true upon the stone, and were trusted by all who took them. Yet it was not the coin that failed the Dwenir, but the manner in which it was held.

For prosperity had grown so great that every Dwenir lived as once only a Regn had lived, and each was determined to leave his mark upon Erenth. Great works were commissioned not for need, but for remembrance. Roads were laid where none were required, halls raised where no people dwelt, and habitations multiplied beyond their purpose. Stone was shaped faster than it could be filled with life.

The forges were busy, the roads secure, the Kerak well kept, and coigns flowed freely. Wages rose, and with them expectation. What had once been counted carefully was now spent readily, and what had once been saved was now displayed.

Grain, timber, and fresh water did not answer to gold. When wagons failed or seasons turned, no weight of coin could summon what the land had not given. Thus so many coigns were set in motion that the metals lost their voice. Merchants no longer measured worth by what coins could buy, but by the measure of labor and goods alone. Prices climbed not because coin was false, but because it was everywhere. What could be had by all was prized by none.

In time, the Besnir would not accept the coigns of the Dwenir for payment, and in time all the peoples of Erenth had weapons to spare. For there had been a great peace in the Four Lands since the defeat of the giants, and the Dwenir had nothing to offer that others might seek.

When the want could no longer be hidden, and when the coigns no longer quieted hunger, the name of Therol began to be spoken without honor in the halls of Dynkyr. The Regn did not deny the failure of his rule. He called upon his magnates, seeking remedy through oath and decree, but no word he spoke could restore restraint where it had been forgotten. The counting houses defied the forges, the Kerak answered only to their own stores, and the people no longer believed that the throne could measure their need.

Thus, after not quite five and seventy years, Therol laid aside his crown. When word of this reached the other Duns, the effect was swift and bitter. The Regns of Festog and Oromir saw in Therol’s fall not warning, but inevitability. Each in turn was pressed by their own magnates, accused not of cruelty or treason, but of insufficiency. For the age demanded answers that no single crown could give.

Therol was succeeded by Egaron the Regn.

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

In the days when Dugmar ruled Dynkyr alone, the world was at peace, and among all the Regns he was held in the greatest esteem. His counsel was sought even above that of Fesig, who in Dun Balnolmar was the eldest among them.

Our people still lived on the surface at that time, but they did not sow nor reap, for the smiths of our settlements made tools and weapons which were highly demanded by the Besnir who were willing to trade grains and fruits for them.

Thus the Dwenir continued to prosper, and the coigns of Dun Dynkyr became the standard of trade among all the Besnir. The mints of our people stamped without ceasing until the gold beneath Saar was exhausted, and only vast and empty caverns remained where the veins had once run.

Deep among the roots of the mountains the Durur—called by many the Underdark—was discovered, and the Gunvirega Rivers that watered those depths were explored along their courses. Dugmar hoped thereby to find a passage to Dun Usega, and so to reach the Dwenir of Mith, son of Clangeddin, who had remained beyond the Ice Reach when his father crossed the world in search of Mya.

Dun Usega was not found, but distant hearths were discovered. Following those deep courses, Neblodi was reached, a realm inhabited by Stonekin of the old world, who knew nothing of Westrun nor of the Four Lands. Emissaries were exchanged and gifts given between our peoples, and Dynkyr gained access to new gold in return for the gems the Dwenir had found in great abundance while hollowing the depths beneath Saar.

Dugmar was Regn for nine and three hundred years. In that time he expanded Dun Dynkyr across the hills and plains, founding a chain of Kerak to stretch along the peninsula, and the great road by which our people traveled between them. He died in a landslide at Kerak Thar, and his monument stands there to this day. He was succeeded by Therol the Regn.

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

In the days when Clangeddin ruled Dynkyr alone, he sent scouts into every land to espy his enemy. And when the storjarl was at last found, Clangeddin rose up and went forth to meet Yrsog Firemane and all his throng, as they lay encamped near the Oxbow of Sakar.

There were three hundred giants in that throng, and within their camp were the hounds of hell, a gift from the fell powers they worshipped, and from the god who dwelt in their midst, Karon. Clangeddin commanded four companies of spear and hammerhand, and he was joined by two companies from Festog and Oromir, led by his own sons. To these were added three companies of Terani archers and a company of Vyrum cavalry.

By such might the throng was destroyed.

Yrsog was not spared. His head was taken and cast into the hot springs where he had sought shelter, so that the flesh was stripped from bone. His body was burned upon the field of his defeat, and the ashes were scattered upon the waters of the Oxbow, never again to trouble the worlds of Dwenir or Besnir. The hounds of hell were likewise slain, though many fled into the mountains, and their baying was heard in the valleys for long years thereafter.

No sign was found of their evil god. Karon had no form that could be seen, though he was known to inhabit the bodies of others, as he had once inhabited Caros, the foul prophet. Against him Clangeddin swore his vengeance, though that oath went unfulfilled, even upon his deathbed.

Then all the Besnir rejoiced, but the Dwenir were heavy of heart. For though Baere had made her promise concerning their wives and daughters, the manner of its fulfillment was yet unknown to them. For this reason the Besnir called the Dwenir dour and taciturn, given to hard labor and caring little for mirth—though their fondness for strong drink was both misunderstood and, in time, appreciated.

With the enemies of all Besnir slain, the Dwenir ruled fairly and prosperously, once again sharing their tools with all people, and trading in the coigns which they minted. Clangeddin was Regn of Dynkyr for eight score years, and he died as he had lived, axe in hand. Thus Dugmar became the second Regn of the Stoneborn.

The Lament of Clangeddin

O stone that stood when flesh was taken,

O wall that watched and did not break,

You held the sky from falling waters

Yet did not shield my hearth from death.

Where are the voices of the morning,

The feet that ran along the hall?

The hearth is cold, the Deepward silent,

And still you stand—you stand at all.

Let fire undo what hands have fashioned,

Let frost take hold of measured stone,

For walls that outlive wives and daughters

Are monuments to grief alone.

Yet if the dead yet hear the living,

If love is stronger than the grave,

Then give them back not to my seeing,

But to a world no foe may brave.

I ask no joy, I ask no glory,

I ask no crown nor final rest—

Only that stone remember flesh,

And loss be forged to guard the blessed

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

When Clangeddin had sallied forth from Dun Dynkyr he sought the storjarl of the giants in vain, for Yrsog Firemane was not where the prophet Caros had foretold. But rather than returning home, he marched next at Oromir and then to Balnolmar to defeat the enemies of his sons. And when their battles were ended, he returned home at the head of a great host and found Dun Dynkyr in ruin and the Deepward of Mir Vath a tomb of women and children. Only the curtain wall remained intact for it was knit of finest craftsmanship and blessed by Baere herself.

And it seemed to Clangeddin that the wall was a silent witness of grief, a testament enduring long after the lives it protected were expired. So he cried out in the pain and wrath of his loss and cursed the wall and cursed Baere whose blessing had kept it.

Then she who was imprecated appeared and beheld all that was lost and saw the sorrow that lay upon the Dwenir, for none of their women remained and their race imperiled. And so she did not come with wrath for the words which Clangeddin spoke, but with pity.

Then Clangeddin sank before her and lifted his eyes saying, "If the grace of this wall had been with our wives and daughters, they would yet live. Fire and frost take this wall and cast it asunder, for it now has no purpose beneath heaven."

So moved with pity was she, that Baere removed her blessing upon the wall, and spread it instead upon the spirits of those which imbibed the poison of Caros, saying, "No more shall the Dwenir fear the depredations of their enemy. Their wives and daughters shall return to them, but from this day forth, no eye shall behold them, nor shall any hand be raised against them. Within their Deepwards they shall remain and at their head shall be Mya the Everlasting."

Then were raised the Valkauna of our people, and the spirit-wives of our worthy folk. And this is a great mystery which the Besnir understand not, neither do we speak of it. It is the blessing of Baere and the salvation of our race.

And the spirit-wives shall ever give themselves to those Dwenir who prove worthy, and they shall rear their children in the realm beyond sight. Sons shall appear among the Dwenir full-formed when they come of age, and they shall seem as though they are born of stone itself. Thus we call ourselves the Stoneborn, and the secrets of our people are held close.

Neither shall the Stoneborn who are made worthy taste final death. For when their bodies are extinguished, their spirits shall endure as Enheri—champions and guardians in realms unseen.

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

In the days that followed the reunion of Mya and her spouse, it came to pass that frost giants from the North were found slain within a day’s walk of the wall. It became clear to the Dwenir that sons of the Yotinir had pursued Clangeddin to his last refuge from distant battles.

There was also an emissary in Dun Dynkyr at that time. His name was Caros, and he had recently come from Dun Ur, the redoubt of Duma the Regn. He was a prophet full of wisdom, able to see things afar off, and an interpreter of dreams. He arrived bearing the ear and confidence of Duma, and thus enjoyed the same from Mya and Clangeddin.

At his counsel they sent forth their remaining sons from the hearth as captains of hosts of spear and hammer. These went to the Duns of their people, to relieve those sorely pressed and to bring back news of their holdings. Thard, Dugma, and Martham went out to relieve their brothers, and Verga went first to Duma and then to Bathor, to aid his distant kin.

Thus Dun Dynkyr learned that Dun Ur had fallen into shadow and would allow none, neither friend nor foe, to enter. Those within had delved deep into the ground to escape the predation of the giants and were seen no more upon the surface.

Festog, Oromir, and Balnolmar were sorely pressed, and those of the House of Bathor who were not warriors were sent for refuge to Dynkyr. So it was with the other Duns. In this way Dun Dynkyr again became the refuge of women and children too young for war, while the sons of Mya chased giants from the lands of their kin.

Then Caros beheld a vision: the storjarl of the giant throng was encamped in the Salt Marsh. Clangeddin led three companies to surprise him, perchance to strike down their ancient foe. But while the sons and spouse of Mya were gone, along with the spears and hammers that had defended the wall, Dun Dynkyr was attacked by the very throng that Clangeddin sought.

And there was treachery behind the wall, for Caros was not what he seemed. In the eye of deep night the gate was unbarred, and the giants were let in. Two companies of spear and hammer remained within Dynkyr, and these were forced to face the giants without benefit of the wall, while sleep still lay upon them.

Before his treachery was discovered, Caros counseled Mya that all was lost. She gathered the women and children into the Deepward of Mir Vath while the sounds of battle raged above. Caros gathered with them and spoke words of deep malice into her ear, urging that they take their own lives and thus deprive the giants of victory.

So Mya relented. All those who sheltered in the Deepward drank the draught that Caros prepared. One by one they succumbed to sleep, and then to death itself.

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

In the days when Mya ruled Dynkyr alone, she raised to herself nine hundred and ninety spears, born behind the wall and trained to war. These she placed upon the ramparts, and they kept the safety of that place, overseeing all that came within its sight.

The weapons and armor that the Dwenir made were without peer and greatly desired. But most prized of all were their coigns. So sought were they that all the Besnir traded to obtain the gold, silver, and copper minted in Dun Dynkyr. Far and wide it became known as the center of trade, and a great market grew in the shadow of the wall, bringing grain, goods, and livestock from across Westrun and the Four Lands beyond.

Far from the wall, the wars with the giants continued, and those who sought respite from them came to Dun Dynkyr for peace and safety. Day and night they came and rested in its fastness. Then, on a morning at first light, a vagabond company appeared and stood unmoving within sight of the wall. They bore no banner and displayed no insignia that was known. Neither was their raiment recognized by any who held the watch.

The captain of that company stepped forward and fell upon his knees before the wall, and he wept openly for the relief he felt. When he was helped again to his feet, he called out in a loud voice to those who warded the wall.

They answered him, demanding to know his name and purpose, for they thought him a brigand from the North, or a deserter from Ur or Festog to the West.

Then the captain declared that he was the sharp silver blade that had slain giants beyond number. He named himself Clan, husband of Mya, who had survived the cataclysm of the Valley of Summer and fought across distant lands to be reunited with his bride. When his name was given, Mya was sent for, and she ordered the gates thrown wide. She herself went out from the wall to receive him. She who held the reign of Dun Dynkyr was once again the mother of sons, and a wife of her youth. She ran forth and embraced Clan as one long lost.

Great was the celebration of that day. The vagabond Dwenir were received into their own, and much was learned of each other and of the years that had passed. Thus Clan learned of his brother Duma, who had founded Dun Ur, and of Bathor, who had founded Dun Festog. And Mya learned of Dun Usega, Dun Balnolmar, and Dun Oromir, which had been founded by her sons Mith, Fesig, and Mireh.

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

In the days when Mya and her company came upon the Saar, they lived in peace, for their abode had not yet been discovered by the giants, and they were not harried. But the wars at Dun Ur and Dun Festog continued apace, and their fortresses were greatly contested.

Then Mya, and the Dwenir who were with her, founded a great city of stone in that place. They were guarded by the sea on three sides and bounded by the great mountains on the fourth. Because the mountains rose suddenly in their majesty, they were nearly impassable in their own right. Only a cleft between two of them allowed passage between Mir Nahr in the West and Mir Vath in the East.

So it was that Mya had the pass sealed. Stones were quarried from deep within Nahr and Vath, as if taken from their very roots, and from them she made a great curtain between the two. In the midst of the curtain she placed a gate, with a rampart above it, and on either side tall towers from which the wall might be gained and its breadth reached with arrows. Together it became a thing of beauty, for she had with her the greatest of miners and craftsmen, and they sought only to please their queen and mother. Thus they raised the wall in many courses, until it grew as tall as the mountains beside it.

They called that place—the wall and the city it protected—Dun Dynkyr, and named it for the pain of the loss of Mya’s husband Clan and the seven sons she had borne him. For though she was a great leader and wise in her years, she was also called the Mournful and the Widow. Many among the Dwenir sought her hand in marriage, but she would not take any to spouse, and poured herself instead into the defense and grandeur of her people.

At Dynkyr they built furnaces anew and began the smelting of many metals. With kohl stone in the heart of their fires, they softened even iron and worked it into steel. For a time iron was thought to be the Promise of Numli, a treasure long sought since before the cataclysm. Because iron was both superior and more plentiful than copper, they became masters of steel and made great strides in its craft.

Though iron was prized, the softer metals were not despised. Gold, silver, and copper were also melted, from which they minted coigns and began the custom of money. Thereafter the Dwenir feared neither mice nor rot, for their vaults were not filled with grain as those of the Stonekin had been. Neither was labor exchanged unevenly among them, for all worked and bought with the minted metals they had made. In time the other Besnir prized the coigns of Dynkyr, and for want of them brought trade and commerce to market before the wall.

Then Baere herself came round to the wall of Dynkyr and marveled. For though she had seen many bulwarks in her course, there were none to compare with the curtain that stretched between Mir Nahr and Mir Vath. Not only was it unsurpassed in height and depth, but it was to her an object of great beauty.

And since the stone blocks of Dynkyr were quarried from the heart of the mountains, the shafts and cuts made by the Dwenir were hidden from sight. For this Baere was grateful, for she hated the scars of mining and the splintering of rock as other Besnir had done. So she blessed the wall, saying it should never be broken by the craft of any born on Erenth. Thus, behind that wall the Dwenir prospered, and among all the peoples of Erenth, Dynkyr was counted the greatest and the envy of many.

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

When the Dwenir had escaped the deluge of the cataclysm, they came to the Four Lands. Among those who came to Westrun was Duma. He was a great warrior, brave and accomplished, and greatly esteemed among our people. He made a refuge and named it Baldardin, and it withstood many attempts by the giants to unmake it.

Now the brother of Duma was Bathor. After many battles he desired not to remain behind the walls of Baldardin, for he said that it was a place of death, cursed ever to be. He named Baldardin Dun Ur and spoke a prophecy that was known in all generations thereafter. “This is the hearth of blackness,” said he, “and the dead alone shall own it.”

So Duma bid his brother to leave, but would not join him, for he ever believed that Baldardin was one battle from victory. Yet he prevailed upon Bathor to take the women and children with him. Then Bathor took such warriors as would come, and also the women and children, and together they left that place. They came upon a rich sea of green grass that had no end in sight.

Among those he took was Mya, the wife of his brother Clan, for she was comely, and it was believed that Clan had not survived the deluge. For her part, Mya also desired to depart Dun Ur, but she would not consent to become the wife of Bathor—not even after many days.

She said, “If my husband is dead, then I shall marry not again. For I have borne him seven sons and shall never bear another.”

But Bathor would not relent and said to her, “Look now, my scouts have found mountains to the North. Let us go and see if they possess the ore necessary to raise a Dun. Over such a Dun, I swear by my life, that I will make you a queen.”

But Mya replied, “This place we have found is safe and fertile for now. From here we can see enemies from afar off. We shall remain. If it seems right to you, you may go and make a place for us. Then, if it be sweeter than these fields of green, we shall accompany you there. As for becoming your wife, it shall not come to pass.”

So Bathor left able warriors to defend the women and children, and he went into the mountains that lay to the North. There he encountered giants and was engaged in many battles. In time he founded Dun Festog, for the winds of that place blew without ceasing. Against the giants he erected a wall, and behind it raised a great fortress that rivaled any that had been raised before.

When word came to the Dwenir who remained with Mya that Bathor had encountered giants, they grew fearful, for the plain was not as safe as it had first seemed. So the women and children, and the warriors who remained with them, continued into the East until they came to the Saar Mountains. These overlook the great sea that had once been the Valley of Summer. In the midst of them was a cleft through which the waters could be seen, and the Sun danced upon the waves and made glad the hearts of all who beheld it.