A likely place

Chapter one:

A Likely Place

The dwarf who stood  at the black marble podium was well known in the council chamber.  Every noble dwarf who had attended a meeting of the Firth since time immemorial had heard the zealous diatribe of Erith Dakuvard, and knew it was better to let her  hem and haw herself out, till she wore exhausted, she slouched, baggy-eyed and rumpled back to her seat, than to incur her legendary ire. Today, however, Urmid sensed something different in the chief architects demeanor, a stiffening of the back, a tilt of the chin, there was an air of levity and resolve about the high priest.  Looking around Urmid noticed that the other member of this months Firth sensed it too,  all eyes were fixed on the podium and there was an stillness normally reserved for the sacrosanct  acts of  the holy rights. The Dwarf cleared her throat loudly, looked around slowly, then began to speak in a booming voice.

“  It is with a heavy heavy heart that I Erith Dakuvard, leader of the the Dakuvard, and chief architect of our god on earth, must announce that I along with my entire clan, are leaving Fallstanford warren. Where we go we cannot know, as we lay our fortunes now on the altar of the great Armok to guide us as he deems fit. “

As he continued his oratory, a fanatical gleam seemed to grow in her deep set eyes eyes, and her throaty voice grew feverish.

“There are many worthy Dwarves here in these halls, who keep our great god in mind and seek to do his bidding and work on his divine plans, but there are those among you who would  shame us all by spurning his words. Heretics and heathens I deem you! We, the true faithful go now to parts unknown to  start a new warren, one fit to inspire the praise of Armok himself!

If some of you should see the folly of your ways, and in so doing repent of the wickedness that has infested this once noble warren, then follow us as you may, look  to the rising sun and let your feet guide you  to salvation. “

The stunned silence that filled the opulent council chamber seemed deafening after the booming cadence of the orators voice. After a long while, one of the master masons rose slowly to speak.

“I am saddened ,  chief architect Erith , by your words.  Long has this council known of your discontent with our ways, but you will find little support here,”  a ripple of nods and low murmers ran down th length of the crowed assembly “ our halls are vast and full of wonders, rare jems and jewels of every imaginable type and size decorate our hands, and we are content here within our home, to sing our songs and drink our drink. So go, Erith, take whatever pitifull rabble you can scrape up and go! Bother us no more with your talk of this strange vengeful god, you are not welcome within these walls.”

With each word the face of Erith darkened, until she was quivering with rage, face almost purple. He stood there shaking  as, one by one, the members of the firth stood up and silently filed their way out of the hall. Taking a deep breath, the aged Dwarf seemed to shrink visibly, and slowly lowered himself into a nearby, onyx encrusted throne.  It was some time before he noticed Urmid, still sitting silently near the back wall. It was time to tell the holy one about her strange dreams……