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Eurgiga
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 22 2013, 11:54 AM 

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Joined: 12 Jun 2012

You find a book here, bound in a sturdy leather cover dyed a deep mahogany-red. In the cover, in Dwarven Runes, is stamped the title:

Parables of the Morndinsamman

Upon opening it, you find a short table of contents, followed by a number of short fairytales, all of which seem centered around tales of the gods and a rather traditional view of dwarven morality. Generally speaking, they seem a bit grim.

_________________
~Diana de Priondragas - Enigmatic druid, Arbiter, Counselor, Bear.
~Corinn Aldaine - Just a girl with a big heart... who can turn you into a newt.
~Vigdis Haldorsdottr - Walk softly and carry a big axe.


 
      
Eurgiga
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 22 2013, 11:54 AM 

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How the King lost his Kingdom, a Dwarven Tale of Wisdom
By Vigdis of Runedar

Once, in the old days, there lived a dwarven king who was well-loved and respected by his people.
He had done many great things for his citadel, and his long reign had brought peace and prosperity
to his fellow lords in other lands. Proud was this king, and justly so; but also in his heart lurked Pride's
shadow, Vanity. So proud was the king of the brilliance of his rule that be began to think himself the
most clever and knowledgeable of all the kin, and favoured by the gods above his fellows. But the
Morndinsamman saw his vanity grow to hubris.

And so, in his hubris and convinced in his divine appointment, he issued a challenge to all the kin of his
kingdom, stating "My rule is by the hand of the gods- denying my right to such is as impossible as
throwing a mountain. On the day a kin throws a mountain, to that kin I shall give my kingdom and my
throne."

Vergadain, hearing the hubris of the king, cloaked himself as a noble and traveled to the land of the
boastful monarch. It was a rich and lustrous land, full of prosperity, safe for kin to call home. As he
traveled the deeproads to the citadel, Vergadain found no shortage of kind kin willing to aid his travels
or give him a place to sleep for the night. The king had done well for his people, and they were all too
eager to speak his praises. Many shared a story of a personal kindness the king or one of his men had
bestowed on them.

When Vergadain reached the halls of the king, he had word sent that there was a kin who could throw
a mountain. And so the king had the noble sent for, and brought before him.

"Who are you," he asked Vergadain, "who feels he can throw that which the gods themselves have set
as the bones of the earth? Such is hubris, and will lead you astray."

"I am but a humble lord in service of the Morndinsamman, my king. They have given me the might to
throw a mountain, and I have heard such words come from their lips," replied Vergadain.

"Then surely you will throw a mountain, o sir," said the king, "for if you do not, I shall have you executed
for your blasphemy."

And so the king had them taken to the surface, to the bottom of a cliff face on a plain. Stepping ten paces
from the face, the king planted his sword in the ground. He stood behind it and commanded, "Sir, you
shall now throw the mountain past my sword."

"O king," asked Vergadain, "how far past your sword must the mountain be?"

"Should you throw it and any part of the mountain lands past my sword, so shall I consider the deed done."

With those words, Vergadain drew Goldseeker from its hilt and struck the face of the mountain. Taking a
chip that had cleaved from the stone, Vergadain threw it past the sword. And so, bound by honour, the king
gave to Vergadain his kingdom and his throne.

Remember this tale always, for it warns us of the dangers that come with pride- vanity, hubris, and conceit.
Be proud of your achievements and importance to the kin, but never let your vanity convince you that you are
greater than your station. Be humble, be diligent, and do always honour to the Morndinsamman.

_________________
~Diana de Priondragas - Enigmatic druid, Arbiter, Counselor, Bear.
~Corinn Aldaine - Just a girl with a big heart... who can turn you into a newt.
~Vigdis Haldorsdottr - Walk softly and carry a big axe.


Last edited by Eurgiga on Sat, Mar 23 2013, 17:40 PM, edited 1 time in total.

 
      
Eurgiga
 
PostPosted: Fri, Mar 22 2013, 11:57 AM 

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How the Soldier brought Ruin upon his Hold

In a time past, in a kingdom deep in the heart of a great mountain of limestone and marble, there
came a great threat from the deep tunnels: The scouts had found passages to the Underdark
through which the evil Drow could attack the city, seeking to steal its riches. The king called a
council of his thegns and commanded that each of their houses would be responsible for guarding
the maze of tunnels between the kingdom and the Underdark.

Obediently, the great houses complied with the King's edict and set up guardposts throughout the
tunnels, each one tasked with stopping the Drow scouts from finding the location of the city.

The great Hold's defenders stood firm for weeks, then years, then decades. As the kingdom grew in
richness, its defenders waged a ceaseless war against the horrors of the Underdark. And so it came
to pass that a century had gone by, and still the kingdom grew in wealth and beauty. Still the miners
expanded the tunnels while the defenders held the deep ways against all threats.

It came to pass, then, that a Drow scouting party came upon one of the very closest posts to the
Underdark, and were fallen upon by the defenders. The party leader, a female, was captured alive.
Once questioned, the commander of the post was satisfied that their scouts had not uncovered the
location of the Hold. Mercy gripped the heart of the commander and he ordered the release of the
prisoner, commanding her to flee back to her home and never return. His second advised him that this
was foolishness, that Berronar's mercy was not to be given to those who threatened hearth and home.

The commander ignored the wisdom of his second and loosed the shackles of the Drowess before
sending her back to the Underdark. Thanking them for their kindness, she fled back to her home.

A tenday passed, and the kingdom was beseiged from below by a Drow army- the scouts had indeed
found the Hold and were returning to report its location when they were caught. Caught by surprise,
the Hold was quickly overtaken and fell to ruin.

Learn from the mistakes of the soldier: The mercy of Berronar Truesilver is to be given judiciously, to those
who protect and preserve our hearth and home. To those who would threaten our kin and comfort give
only the fury of Clangleddin.

~From the Writings of Bazric, Fourteenth Scribe of Berronar's Clergy of the Mithral Hall

_________________
~Diana de Priondragas - Enigmatic druid, Arbiter, Counselor, Bear.
~Corinn Aldaine - Just a girl with a big heart... who can turn you into a newt.
~Vigdis Haldorsdottr - Walk softly and carry a big axe.


 
      
Eurgiga
 
PostPosted: Mon, Nov 10 2014, 23:34 PM 

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The Dwarf Who Traded Honor For Gold, A Dwarven Tale of Wisdom
By Vigdis of Runedar

Once, long ago, there was a young dwarven noble by the name of Frukul Dagarkin. Like you and I, he
was born cradled by stone and given life by the very breath of Moradin. Like you and I, he knew our
kin's lust for the gifts of the earth: gold, gems, rare stone and more are the treasures our labour yields
us, ours by the sweat of our brow. However, he gave his heart over to greed, and in doing so heard the
call of Abbathor. Each day the young Lord Frukul would take home the day's earnings and hoard them
away, hiding them for himself and himself only. Each night he would count his coins, inspect his gems,
weigh his bars and plan how he would slake his greed further the next day.

He had been born into a family of administrators, and so was trained to take his father's profession as
the steward of the hold. Had he been of kind heart, fair and forgiving to his kin, he would've found his
home and hold thriving under his stewardship. Sadly, his lust for coin drove him to tax even his own
family without mercy or consideration. In his time, he brought ruin to several dwarven families, and his
home and hold withered under his attentions.

It so happened, as it often does, that more hardship befell Lord Frukul's hold; a sickness took the lives
of many of the miners, both young and old. In turn, Lord Frukul levied the taxes owed by the dead
against their families, and in a matter of months had seized the assets of every house who couldn't pay.
Before long, the mines of the hold fell silent, the forges crew cold, and its people slowly starved. Too
proud to admit his failure, Lord Frukul remained upon the hold's throne even as the last of his kin
abandoned its halls for new homes.

It is said that to this day, Lord Frukul remains on his throne, too stubborn to admit his failure and too
greedy to die; like a dragon, he hoards his treasures in his empty halls and robs the bodies of any
adventurers who dare enter his domain.

Let Lord Frukul's fate serve as a warning to our kin: while greed is a part of the heart of every dwarf, to
submit to it is to let it fill your heart and push out all else. This is a sickness, a poison upon the kin and
those around him, for the heart given over to greed will sacrifice all other principles for its sake.
Remember always the wise guidance of the Morndinsamman, that you may Temper your greed with the
bonds of honour, duty, and faith, lest you too bring ruin upon those around you.

_________________
~Diana de Priondragas - Enigmatic druid, Arbiter, Counselor, Bear.
~Corinn Aldaine - Just a girl with a big heart... who can turn you into a newt.
~Vigdis Haldorsdottr - Walk softly and carry a big axe.


 
      
Eurgiga
 
PostPosted: Mon, Jul 25 2016, 15:02 PM 

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The Only Ready Dwarf, a Tale of Caution
From the writings of Sten Stensonson, High Alaghor of Mithril Hall

Deep in the mountains, under eaves of earth and rock, there sheltered once the great and ancient
stronghold of Koganûsan. In that place, sloth had overtaken the kin with lips of mead and comforts
bought by the gifts of the earth. Iron they no longer forged but traded for gold, gold they bartered for
steel. Merchantry brought riches, and with its riches the King bought mercenaries to guard the deep
ways that his subjects would live in peace and safety.

In all of Koganûsan, no voice raised to protest the outsiders walking the ways of our ancestors. In its
halls, only one dwarf remained in the deep battlements. The High Alaghor of Clangleddin alone
sharpened his axe and his skill, standing watch with the outsiders bought and armored by gold. His
steel he had forged with his own hands and baptised in battle.

Although he stood watch, he was alone with no kin beside him in the depths. No-one in the hold heard
the call of Clangleddin, none ventured to seek his counsel so deep from the comforts of their warm
halls.

As all things with time, so too did the fortunes of Koganûsan shift. Veins ran dry before new ones could
be found, and over mere years the King's coffers dwindled to nothing. The mercenaries left, and
dwarves who for a century had fattened themselves on mead and pork were stuffed into armor and
ordered to ward the depths. Sensing their opportunity the foes of the hold pounced, slaughtering all
who lived under the mountain.

The High Alaghor of Koganûsan found himself before Clangleddin Silverbeard and prostrated himself.
“My Lord,” he said, “Look with favor upon your son, this warrior among kin, heart among hearts. I
alone stood by my duty in all my hold when all others fell away. I beg you look with favor on my
service to your ways.”

Clangleddin Silverbeard, the Giantkiller, the Wyrmslayer, the Father of Battle, turned his face from the
High Alaghor and said, “You find no favor with me, son of the Dwarffather. You have hewn to the rock
of readiness, but you have forgotten your duty to your kin. Your hold grew to sloth around you, yet
you stayed not with your kin to guide them back to my path. You let their forges grow cold and their
hands grow feeble. When gold could no longer shield them their steel should have been ready to
answer the call.”

The High Alaghor departed from Dwarfhome, an eternal shame upon his ancestors. To this day
Koganûsan lies a dead husk under the mountain, a testament to the price paid by those who forget to
heed Clangleddin's teachings, and by those who forget to teach them.

~Scribed by Vigdis of Runedar for the Runedar Archives
25 Flamerule, DR 1385

_________________
~Diana de Priondragas - Enigmatic druid, Arbiter, Counselor, Bear.
~Corinn Aldaine - Just a girl with a big heart... who can turn you into a newt.
~Vigdis Haldorsdottr - Walk softly and carry a big axe.


 
      
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