horror as the rightful king of the Ebony Mountains attacked. The lad barely blocked the massive blows as he tried to stay on his feet. But Roakore did not relent. He swung low, then high, then straight down from above.
With Roakore’s last blow, though, Ky’Drock began an offensive attack. To Roakore’s delight, the young warrior met him blow for blow, never getting close to striking, but putting up a good defense. Roakore lessened his own defenses, acting as though he had barely blocked several blows, and stumbled back, staying on his heels, letting young Ky’Drock gain confidence with every strike. When the young warrior becaome too cocky Roakore stepped up the fight. Ky’Drock swung from left to right and Roakore stepped aside with ease. Then the young dwarf came overhead, and instead of blocking high, Roakoke stepped aside and let the wooden axe hit the stone floor as he brought his own axe down on top of Ky’Drock’s. Roakore pinned Ky’Drock’s axe with his own and with his left fist gave the bent lad a strong backhand. Ky’Drock took the blow but did not let go of his pinned axe. Roakore struck him again and swung his axe up, aiming at the kneeling lad’s face. Ky’Drock had only one choice and he took it: he fell back out of reach of the wooden axe, rolling as he fell.
Before the lad could get up, Roakore came out of his spin and slammed his axe Ky’Drock’s way, sending the boy rolling to his left to avoid the great blow. Ky’Drock rolled one, two, three times; then, as Roakore came down for a fourth try, the young dwarf reversed his spin and came back at him. Roakore’s axe missed as Ky’Drock changed direction, bringing the young dwarf within an inch of his feet. Ky’Drock kicked Roakore in the gut hard, and Roakore spun away.
Ky’Drock was on his feet in an instant and charged in hard, Roakore blocked an overhead strike and then a side strike. Ky’Drock then struck low, attempting to swipe Roakore’s feet, but Roakore was quicker. He leapt over the axe and came in hard as the momentum of the wooden axe spun the young dwarf to the side. Roakore struck him behind the trailing knee, buckling it and dropping him onto that knee. Then Roakore spun in the opposite direction, blocking the oncoming counter with such force that it sent Ky’Drock onto his back.
Roakore chopped at Ky’Drock’s legs, but the energetic young dwarf proved agile indeed as he brought his legs up and over his head and rolled into a standing position, axe ready. Then Roakore came on full force, his powerful blows keeping the lad on his heels. Left, right, left, overhead, right, the onslaught came. Finally Roakore feinted right, and when Ky’Drock was dedicated to the block, he twirled left. Before the dwarf knew what had happened, Roakore had slammed the axe into his side. Even as the young dwarf fell to his right, Roakore twirled around and swept the beaten dwarf’s legs, causing him to land on his own axe. Roakore spun again and stopped his wooden axe an inch from Ky’Drock’s neck.
“Yer dead.”
The astonished dwarf only stared and gulped. Roakore lent the lad a hand and gave him a heavy pat on the back as Ky’Drock smiled, holding his ribs. Roakore handed Haldigoz his axe. He addressed the onlooking crowd.
“Me good dwarves o’ the Ebony Mountains, me warriors! Hard ye have all trained these long years. Before me now I see skilled warriors, dedicated fighters, a great tribute to our fallen friends. Let me say that each o’ yer fallen fathers smiles down upon ye this day from the great Mountain o’ the Gods! Long has been our road, and stained in blood it be, but we finally reach the end. A war is coming, one that’ll include all kingdoms o’ Agora! Our part will be one o’ great importance. Not only will we take back what be rightfully ours, but we will rid the world o’ a great evil.”
The chamber erupted in cheers. The deep, booming voices of the thousand dwarves was deafening.
“But be know’in this: we must not underestimate our enemy! Fer a trusted source tells me that a queen Draggard now inhabits our lost mountain.” Roakore spat at the mention of the beasts, as did hundreds of his followers. “We may be facing an army o’ over two hundred thousand!”
Roakore watched closely as many hushed conversations broke out. On the faces of his followers he saw surprise, and anger, and confusion, but he did not see fear.
“But, me brave warriors, we’re not alone! When the time comes, our kin’ll march with us, from Ky’Dren and the Elgar Mountains to the east.” He raised his voice so that his next statement echoed loudly throughout the chamber, his great voice booming. “An’ let it be known now, the march o’ the three clans o’ the dwarves will be echoed in song fer all eternity! The great deeds we do in the name o’ our fathers-like the flowing o’ our own blood, which we gladly give-will live on in our sons fer all time. We will reclaim our mountain, we will defeat the Draggard, and we will bleed with wide smiles in the faces o’ our enemy. Victory, glory, our home, will soon be ours!”
The chamber roared. The cheers and the stomping boots of the excited dwarves were so great, they could be felt by Whill and Abram, far down the long corridors of Dy’Kore.
There came a knock at Abram’s door, and Ky’Ell entered. “Are ye ready for a tour o’ me great city, then?”
They followed the barrel-chested king through the many halls and chambers of Dy’Kore. After descending a number of stairs they came to the great under-city. Huge furnaces roared on all sides as they walked through. Thousands of dwarves were hard at work shoveling coal into the large pyres, or wheeling barrels of coal from adjoined tunnels. The heat was almost unbearable for Whill, and after only a few minutes his brow dripped with sweat. Here steel and iron, gold and silver were melted down to be reshaped by the great smiths of the city. Next to each furnace was at least one work station, and here hundreds of smiths banged away tirelessly, crafting goblets and jewelry, weapons and armor.
It took almost five minutes to walk the length of the furnace room, and though Whill was amazed at what he had seen, he was relieved to be out of the great heat. The next stop was an entrance to the great mines. This mining tunnel, being so close to the main under-city, had been milked dry centuries before. Ky’Ell led them on for almost a half hour, taking many turns in the maze of mine shafts and tunnels. Finally they came to the entrance of a newly discovered tunnel. He handed both men a lantern and Whill gasped aloud as they entered the rich tunnel. The walls on both sides gleamed and shimmered as the light shone on the many veins of gold within the rock.
“This tunnel were made not a month ago,” the king boasted. “The gold veins go on into the stone fer thirty feet, as far as we can yet see. The devils tried to hide it away forever, they did, but we found it. We always do, fer the glory o’ our gods.”
Whill knew that the king referred to the dragons-the evil gods, as the dwarves called them. It was said in dwarf religion that in the beginning there were two kinds of gods. The Dwarnevly, the good gods, created the beauty of the world: the gold, silver, diamonds, and jewels. The Dargandae, dragons, the evil gods, were insanely jealous, for until then they themselves had been the most magnificent beings in all the world. A great war ensued, and the dragons, unable to destroy the beauty of the Dwarnevly, hid the treasures instead. Deep in the earth and mountains they buried it, never again to be seen. And so the dwarves were created, to retrieve and spread the great beauty of the Dwarnevly’s creations throughout the world.
When Whill had first heard the many stories of the dwarves from Abram, he had been more than skeptical and thought the dwarves’ beliefs rather silly. But after what he had experienced in the last few weeks, he wasn’t sure what he believed anymore.
After returning from the mines along the same route they had taken, and passing once again through the hot furnace chamber, the king led Whill and Abram above the under-city to the Chamber of Treasures. This chamber, aptly named, was the largest and most breathtaking Whill had yet seen. Here were some of the most beautiful artifacts the dwarves had ever crafted. The room was brightly lit with golden chandeliers and hundreds of torches, positioned in such a way that not a shadow could be seen in the vast room. The walls, floor, and ceiling aided in the effect, for they were covered with diamond dust. Millions of sparkles caught Whill’s eye from every direction as Ky’Ell led them deeper into the magnificent chamber. The crowns of each of the many kings were set upon marvelous pillars, in order from Ky’Dren down, along the right side of the room. Whill could hardly believe that he was looking upon the actual crowns worn by so many ancient dwarven kings, and he realized he was one of few humans to have ever lay eyes on these priceless treasures.
To the left of the crowns were various treasures, many crafted by a king or his sons, or by one of the many famous smiths of Ky’Dren. Great axes and war hammers, maces and hatchets of old stood proudly on display, along with magnificent suits of armor adorned in jewels and plated in silver and gold. The three spent more than an hour within the Chamber of Treasures, the king telling the many tales that went along with each item, and Whill looking on in amazement all the while.
Next the king brought them to one of the main living quarters of the dwarves, a twenty-story cylindrical shaft
