Brasstwister

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Brasstwister

Wrython Blackfoot’s long dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail , it was thick and fell half way down his back. His red tone skin was painted with bright stripes of white and red that ran down his broad angular face. Two large white eagle feathers hung from his beaded headband. Next to Thokk who only could were lose fitting garments and cloaks. Wrython’s was the only person in formation who did not where the distinctive red armor of the Brotherhood.

He wore fur lined leather with tiny multicolored beads that formed a large colorful bird on his chest. He called the bird Kahstowa, which in his tongue meant feather head.

Kahstowa was the more then a myth to Wrython’s people. He was a half man and hawk, and it was him who first met his people when they escaped their dieing world.

He was only a child of two years of age, but he still remembered bits and pieces of that world. He remembered seeing the white men in blue cavalry uniforms burn down the homes of his tribe. As the warriors of his people fought the army with the brand of U.S on their horses, the women and children fled. They went to the hill of their great chiefs and danced. Built a enormous fire and called out to their ancestors. Wrython remembered that the sky turn to storms and lightning flashed so bright he could still see thought his eye lids even closed tight.

The dancing gray haired braves calling out to the sprit world, for salvation they prayed. And as the charging men in blue played their song of death, and attacked, the world turned to flashes of light. Then all was silent and dark.

The black lights had taken their world.
So it was said, their ancestors guided them though the sprit world and found a new home.
It had been twelve years since he had seen the valley of his people. He had been warned that leaving the Valley of the Unknown meant his exile. It was a price at one time that seemed small.

The ignorance of his youth had cost him dearly. The new home of his people was rich and peaceful. Rolling plains stretch out for miles, thick groves of tree were rich with game berry , and nuts. Kahstowa’s hawk people were few and lived in the mountains that surrounded this valley. They were said to be that last of their kind, they had made a promise to the hunted race of falcon-men. Never venture into the outside world. Doing this they could live in peace for countless generations.

For it was a grey world they were told, ever tested by its two fates.

Wrython had felt shame for breaking that promise, and many times his closed his eyes and quietly wisped their songs, and remembered the great dances he learned as a child. He wondered strange lands for many months.

He had been captured when he ran into the advancing army of the Sultan of Ralf’nash. They had been warring with some brigands to the south the Pirate nation of Ustomer. Wrython’s wild dress and strange tongue made them suspicious and they kept him as their prisoner. A young captain of the sultans army took note of the oddly dressed natives uncanny ability to catch rabbits and bird while chained to a post.
The captain he came to know as Saben, freed Wrython taught him his language, to read and write. The red skinned hunter became well know as the best tracker in the Sultans army. And after nearly three years of service, he was set free.

Saben had not lived most of his life in the desert lands of Keganor, he was born there, and his family had deep roots among its people. He had come to cold lands of the north as an adventurous youth. His family was rich and he spoiled himself in grand parties, and bought many friends. When the news that brigands from the south had invaded his home city of Avilion , and killed many of his family an friends, he sailed home and joint the army of the Sultan of Ralf’nash.

Ten years of a hard life had aged him beyond his years. This thick black hair was more grey now then his oldest brother that had turned forty that past spring. He was ten years his junior but years of the hellish front weathered his body and sprit.




Chapters end.......

Brasstwister

The bright mid-day sun had started to thaw winters long grip on the icy slopes of Hammerfrost. Tiny streams of water cascaded over the archway and showered the exiting riders. The cold waters were the fist signs that spring had arrived. The winter harvest was over and would soon be sent down river on huge ore laden barges.


The precession slowly moved down the twisting mountain road. Cheering groups of onlookers joined the parading men–at-arms in their trek down to Runen, was an even larger group of several thousands waited by the rivers edge the heart of the city.

The gate opening ceremony had gone quicker then previous years, no long speech or prolonged ritual at the gates this year. But the event was still festive and upbeat.

The barge-master awaited Kunou at the river bank, he was holding a huge ornate sledge hammer. It was tradition for the King to break first ice and drive the heavy hammer deep into the hopefully thin ice. The cracking of this ice was for many a sign of good luck , and safe travels. The grey haired dwarf king dismounted from his war-pony walked to the rivers edge and took the heavy hammer. The deafening crowd grew silent as their king tuned around and spoke.

“May the river run deep!”
“ May the weather be fair!”
“May Fulgrim’s hand guide safe passage!”
“ And may you return this hammer to my hand!”
And with that said Kunou raised the hammer to the sky and brought it down with crushing force.
There was a loud thud and then a long silence. The ice began to crack and the crowd burst to thunderous cheers as the icy river began to break apart.
The smiling barge-master held out his had and received the hammer from Kunou.
“ I shall return this hammer at springs end, may Fulgrim’s luck bring us just worth!”
And as Kunou handed the hammer over the fait sound of a horn could be heard in the distance.
Quickly Kunou mounted his armored pony and slowly rode thought the curious crowd. The king and his assembly of guards and the fifteen members of the Brotherhood moved slowly though the crown till it started to thin. Then came to a gallop twisting their way thought the cobblestone street. The whole way they could hear the horn. It was a tower horn. The watch towers horns of Hammerfrost only would be blown for emergencies.

Kunou and his forty kinsmen rode swiftly though the snow cover fields that started at the edge of Runen. The guard tower that overlooked Lake Blackwater came into view. The horn now two miles closer hurt their ears as it blasted its warning cry. Palins the king’s captain of the guard and ten of his dwarves ran up the narrow path that lead to a large gated wall that surrounded fortified outpost.
The young captain and his guard were all dressed still in their sparking silver dress battle armor.
And their in the courtyard surrounded by stunned watch-men lay the kings brother Hennesey. A sobbing elderly gnome woman kneeled at his side sobbing upon his motionless body.

Brasstwister

I posted two more parts you might be a bit lost unless you have read the other post lol.

Brasstwister

hmm looking back this last part moves a bit to fast , i'll post the next part in a day or to and slow it down a bit.

Brasstwister

Kunou walked slowly up the narrow stone covered path that lead to the guard tower.
His vision grew narrow and dread filled his heart as he moved though a large group of mournful soldiers heads lowered and all somber.
Palins face had always seemed like it was made of stone, a constent snarl and piercing glare instantly brought on a feeling of pure intimidation to anyone with skin too thin.


To server as a soldier in the Battlemaster legion of the King meant you had to meet his legendary standard. Nearly half of the two hundred hopeful recruits would drop out of the training during the first few days.
All were soldiers that had severed at least ten years of service in the Kings army.
And of that remaining hundred hopefuls only one would earn that title of Battlemaster and began his life long service in the elite troupe.


Palins turned to face his King and his voice quivered with imposable emotion.
“ My lord you must not go too near him. Your brother has fallen and a shadow is upon him.”
A shadow is upon him how could that be thought Kunou as he pressed past Palins and though the crowd till his beloved brother came into view.
Most who stood near Hennesey could not see the shadow that passed in and around his body. Kunou knew that this brave gnome women could not. She wore the one thing that should have prevented this body being taken by the darkness. Her small light skinned hand with dark blue spots rested on Hennesey slowly rising chest. There on that trembling hand was Hennesey’s Truth ring, large enough for her that she had to ware it placed on two fingers.
Kunou placed his hand gently on the weeping gnomes shoulder, she slowly looked apon him, face pained, pealing and frostbitten. Her eyes almost swelled shut all her tears spent.
Kunou then stood and turned to Saben and Palins.
“ Get him in the tower and out of the light. All of you that do not where my seal get down to the road at once!. It is not safe for you here come night.”
“Saben you and Lathynia bring Fulgrim to that tower and three of your best.
Caution them of what’s to come when we purge him from the shadow.”

Holly reached her hand blindly out steadying herself with Kunou’s arm and forced words from her cracked and bleeding lips.
“I don’t know of this shadow you speak of, but Hennesey told me to warn Hammerfrost that the dark city Faelan had been found by the Unders. That the dark host’s army is on the move!”
The stunned crowd gathered to hear the gnomes women’s story of what had happened to them and the encounter with the Unders.

Brasstwister

If anyone want to read the other parts their at www.lit.org, It might help you understand the story a bit better reading it in order.

Brasstwister

“ My companions and I would ask kindly if ye were to let us sleep by your fire tonight?” Hennesey had told the Under’s
Hennesey laid there in his sleeping sack wishing they had tried to forge though the blizzard. He hoped that the dark shadows that twisted and passed though the unsuspecting red-eyes were just tricks of the mind, that they were just strange shadows cast by the dancing fire. But they weren’t, he had slipped his ring back on as they bedded down for the night and the deep black shadows returned. The fire was low and even in the near blackness of night he could see them.

I have to get some warning to the other’s Hennesey had thought to himself.

Holly he knew was alert to some problem. She spotted his missing ring as they sat down to eat. She had ground her elbow hard into Bimbelly’s side as they began introductions. The confused look on his face as she named her companions had been noticed by several of the Unders. Bimbelly caught on quick and played it off with a deep belch and gave a smiled to the nervous red-eyes.
“Beg your pardon!”, he laughed and asked them to please pass the fried potatoes.


Holly could tell by Bimbelly’s loud snoring he had forgot about the her attempted warning, passed it off as some strange Dwarven way. The Tinmens were asleep; they were quite a bit older then Holly and Bimbelly. Even alerted to a problem they were beyond fatigued after the long days journey and both were fast asleep.

Three hours Holly laid there with her eyes closed questioning the strange silence. Over the years she had known dwarves to be the loudest snores at the Bear Paw Inn. These dwarves made no sound as they slept. She opened her eyes and slowly sat up. Looking around the dimly lit tent, she could only see four steamy clouds of misty breath rise fading into the darkness. There were at lest twenty red-eyes sleeping here in this main tent . A the leader and few otheres had left after dinner but she was sure most were still here, and possible all dead!
She shifted around slowly in her sleeping sack, quietly slipping on her thick fur coat. It was freezing now that the fire had died down to mere embers. The dwarf nearest to her was two arm lengths away. She had to know how they could sleep so soundly in this cold, and have no mist with their breath.

Slowly she moved though the darkness towards the sleeping dwarf. Holly knelt as she neared him. Held her hand out and reached out to feel if he had any warmth coming from his body. Cold and definitely not breathing, but he still seemed so alive. She nearly jumped as the sleeping Under shifted and slightly turned under his blanket.
As she turned to wake Hennesey and tell him of their horrific circumstances a dark figure grabbed her and held its had over her mouth so she could make no nose.

Holly let out a sigh, the hand was warm, and the welcoming face of Hennesey came into view, a finger over his mouth.
“Shh we must not wake them.” He whispered into her ear.
“ Wake the others, and quietly we have to go now!”

“ Make your way to Fort Ashtur and show them this.”

Hennesey placed his large silver ring on her small hand.
“Wear this and no mater what don’t take it off. If we are to be discovered it will protest you. It will not let you see what I have but know this, we are amongst a great evil.”
“ Tell the Paladin Clell that Faelan had been found. I must go now and I have business in the other tents ” Hennesey opened his thick fur lined leather coat, the blades of two hand axes reflected the faint red glow of the smoldering campfire embers.

And with that he was gone into the darkness.

Brasstwister

In his many years of travels Hennesey on only a few occasions dealt with the Unders. Their clans were far more northeast then most.

There large glaciers still moved slowly through the dense snow-covered mountains.

The Frostcrag mines were what most Unders called home. Frostcrag was easily the second largest system of mines in all the north. Its veins reached out for over fifty miles in every direction. At the center deep underground was Glak’s Hollow. It was a two days journey from the surface to the city of the red-eyes. Hennesey had been there once and had conference with their mining guild, and had even met with their leader Glak Darack’nor.


At one hundred and fifty years of age Glak was to young to have seen the great Harhoothen war. He was wise, even as stern as he was on his subjects, Hennesey had noted his respect that he held for Kunou. His people were not only obsessed with mining profits, they had invented ingenious new ways of improving their bottom line. The steam-works they called it, an automated system of mining.

Hennesey was instantly aw struck at the sight of the first steam driven colossus miner. It worked on a set of three six inch high flat iron bars that traveled through all parts of the Frostcrag mines.

To Hennesey it looked like a giant iron caterpillar with twenty cork-screwing arms that were controlled each by a dwarf. The rock and ore would fall into what looked like a moving walkways that fed into large round scooped openings atop the iron caterpillar.
The mystery of how the under had flooded the market with four times the normal ore output was answered when Glak showed him their mighty machine.

The Unders were selfish, and on many occasions rash, but if Glak Darack’nor were to have found Faelan he would have immediately sent word to Mount Hammerfrost and made sure the dark host had not risen.
Hennesey knew Holly and the others now rested could make their way to Fort Ashtur. With the fort alerted to their presence Hennesey doubted these condemned dwarves would continue with whatever plain they had in the works.

The poltergeists were imbued upon relic the Unders wore, and it keep them unaware that they had been taken. As their body would die over the several weeks the dark magic worked it hold over them. They would enter a dream like state oblivious to their condition till their very mind and soul would become a prisoner in their rotting bodys.