“High Councilor?” said Borrombus, “I’ve made a motion.”

The High Councilor looked up and down the table for a moment and put his hand one of the gem encrusted bands that held his beard in place.

“Don’t do it, brother,” said the Sixth Councilor. “He only needs three votes.”

“You don’t respect the laws laid down by Dar Drawhammer?” said Borrombus. “I call for an adjournment.”

The High Councilor sat in silence for long minutes while everyone waited for his pronouncement. On the floor young Cleathelm started to open his mouth but a glance from his father silenced the words in his throat. “The request was made within the rules laid down by our forefathers and I therefore grant it. All those in favor of an adjournment raise your right hand.”

Three of the seven, Borrombus, an older dwarf with a bald head and a long gray beard, and another who bore a striking resemblance to the fat dwarf raised their hands.

“For the love of Davim!” said the Sixth Councilor. “I propose a special session of the High Council be called tomorrow.”

“Once the High Council has adjourned no new session may be formed without emergency cause for at least two weeks,” said Borrombus.

“It’s an emergency!” said the Sixth Council standing up from his seat and pointing his finger at the fat dwarf. “The Hammer of Fire was stolen! Half-breeds and alien girls have one of the great relics of the realm. It is a catastrophe!”

“The definition of emergency is fully declared in the articles of Drawhammer,” said Borrombus. “Perhaps we need to call an Interpretation Assembly. We’ll need to gather the elders from the original five families…”

“No, no, I retract my objection,” said the Sixth Councilor as he waved his hands in surrender. “I accept the adjournment.”

“The adjournment is granted,” intoned the High Councilor. “The next session of the High Council will meet in two weeks on the second cleave of the Holy Hammer.” With this he banged his golden hammer on the table where it made an almost inaudible little thud.

Minutes later Cleathelm walked down a wide corridor with his father who stood almost six inches shorter and the elder’s beard occasionally dragged along the floor. “By the devil, to be outmaneuvered by that vile Borrombus enrages me. What would your grandfather say?” he said to the young warrior.

“I guess… he’d…,” started Cleathelm.

“It was a rhetorical question, you imbecile. The Council can’t be called again for two weeks and there’s nothing to be done. I can’t send soldiers without a positive vote. You had to open your stupid mouth to your uncle, didn’t you? After I told you to state the complaint and then shut up. I wrote down exactly what you were to say and specifically told you to stick to the script.”

“I thought…”

“Don’t think! You idiot. By the Princes of the Nine Hells you take after your uncle on your mother’s side. You do not think. You do as I say. Am I clear?”

“Yes, father.”

“Now, we have to figure out what do about this. We can’t wait two weeks. Who knows where they’ll take the hammer.”

Cleathelm shrugged as they made their way past a massive, twenty-foot tall statue of a dwarf with a set of chain armor and an axe with a huge notch in the blade, “That was your great, great, great, great, grand-uncle,” said the Sixth Councilor pausing for a moment in front of the statue. “Tor Firefist. He slew the great orc under the mountain. If he knew a foreigner had one of the relics of Craggen Steep he would come back from the dead and take my head.”

“So he was Aunt Aama’s father?” said Cleathelm as he counted on his fingers.

The councilor turned to the young fighter and shook his head, “You’re too stupid to help me here.”

“Where can I help then?”

“You can dig a tunnel to the center of the world for all I care

…,” he started to say and then suddenly paused.

“What?”

“When you became apprentice to the First Edos you had to resign your commission on the High Council Guard, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, father,” said Cleathelm.

“And you’ve had six months to fill out the forms to get back into the regular army. You haven’t done it yet, have you?”

Cleathelm shook his head, “I’ve been meaning to do that…”

“Don’t lie to your father. You just forgot. But that means you can leave Craggen Steep without forgoing your military obligation.”

“I guess,” said Cleathelm and scratched his head.

“Those deadbeat friends of yours, the goblin, the others, they aren’t part of the military either, are they?”

“I’m not sure,” said Cleathelm with another scratch of his head. “Why?”

The councilor looked at the young dwarf and simply shook his head. “Get your gear together, collect your friends; you’re going after Delius yourself. I’ll send reinforcements as soon as I can get the Council to vote. Bring that hammer back.”

“Where am I going?” said the lad, his eyebrows raised and his eyes back darting and forth.

The councilor sighed, “I’ll write it down. Just pack your things and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Not far away along another hallway Borrombus was similarly in deep discussion with his nephew Uldex. “We’ve given them a two week head start,” said the big-bellied dwarf but he wore a frown on his face and shook his head. “Don’t be a fool, Borrombus, I’m just trying to convince myself,” he said to himself after a moment.

“What’s that?” asked Uldex. “We’ve got two weeks to figure out how to delay them further, right?”

“No, no we don’t. Take a note of this Uldex. There are times when you want something to be true so badly that you end up convincing yourself it is true. It’s vitally important to never think that way. You must always examine the situation fully without bias and come to an reasoned conclusion. Or at least as best as possible with the available evidence.”

Uldex nodded his head and looked at his uncle, “You make it sound easy. How do you put aside your biases, your passions?”

“Go over the facts of the matter in a clear headed manner. Just facts. Once you’ve established the facts you can examine them with a clear head. So in this case; one: the Firefists want the hammer back. Two: they have almost unlimited funds but they are limited by political considerations. Three: my rival in council understands this is about more than the hammer; that it is about his position of power and his family’s position with Craggen Steep. Four: the hammer is no longer in Craggen Steep. Five: I want to think that I’ve won this battle, that we’ve garnered two weeks bonus time but they will do whatever they can to circumvent the council’s delay. We can’t let our hopes cloud our thinking in these matters. What will the Firefists do now that we’ve thwarted an immediate military solution? What would you do under if we were the ones who wanted to pursue Delius and his friends?”

Uldex strode with his uncle along the ornate hallways that branched off from the council chambers. The great marble floors were twenty feet wide and golden statues stared at them from alcoves as they went silently past, the only sound was their heavy footsteps. “He’ll hire mercenaries,” said Uldex a few minutes later. “They’ll use some backdoor channel and pay for it out of their own funds. They’ll send someone out of Craggen Steep to track down the hammer and bring it back. They’ll deal with the consequences later after it’s done.”

Borrombus snapped his fingers and nodded his head, “Yes, of course that’s what they’ll do. But, if they send mercenaries who are not soldiers of Craggen Steep then we can do the same, yes?”

Uldex nodded his head. “I have friends who might like a job like that and I’m not averse to taking it on myself unless you need me here in Craggen Steep?” he said with a huge grin on his face. “I assume I’ll be able to execute whatever means necessary to achieve our goals?”

“Yes, of course, you’re right. It’s best that you go after the hammer and bring it back. We will want the masses on our side. We are Blackirons but we can still convince the lesser families that we have their best

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