#kazimir oussnddare

[lumendelmari]

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Dreamwalker

1485 DR / Day 41

Laduguer’s Furrow, Gracklstugh 

The sad pattern continued as Zelyra, Kazimir, and Prince Derendil made their way westward to Cairngorm Caverns. Destruction, death, silence, fear… The once bustling city of Gracklstugh was rank with it. What should have been a ten-minute walk quickly tripled due to the damage the red dragon, Themberchaud, had wrought.

And yet, there was one bright spot amidst the fallout—

Gracklstugh was already starting to rebuild.

The petty war that had broken out between clans was forgotten. Duergar, who had been at each other’s throats, needlessly spilling blood mere hours before, now rallied together and stoically worked side by side to put out fires, clear the streets, and search for trapped victims. The trio did what they could to help along the way, which slowed them even further.

As they navigated the wreckage of the southern housing district, Zelyra’s sharp eyes fell upon a figure lying near a collapsed building. The druid gasped and rushed forward. Derendil and Kazimir hurried after her. The body that Zelyra had found was none other than Grinta Ironhead.

Not only had Grinta been one of the co-conspirators of Blackskull’s coup—she was Laird Thangus Ironhead’s only daughter. [1] The once proud and fierce weaponsmith now looked so small and fragile, her armor cracked and scorched. Further search revealed Grinta’s honor guard trapped among debris. The elderly priest who presided over their Heroes’ Feast was also there. He lay flat on his back, his dark eyes trained upwards, lifeless and unseeing.

They had never asked the priest’s name, let alone thanked him for the powerful adjuration magic that had undoubtedly saved their lives in the throne room…

And now they never could.

“How did it come to this?” Kazimir muttered.

“Pride was allowed to override reason,” Prince Derendil replied, his head downturned. “No side would have come out of the coup without substantial loss. But they knew that, I think. Blackskull, Amber, Grinta, and the other lairds who sided with them… Themberchaud knew it, too. That’s why he chose to attack when he did. It was his best and only chance. This was a battle that neither side could have won.”

“They didn’t deserve this,” Zelyra said as she dropped to her knees beside the priest and reached out with trembling fingers to close his unseeing eyes in respect. “None of them did,” the druid muttered. She then brought her hands to her mouth in a gasp. “Poor Blackskull! She must—”

Zelyra left the conclusion of ‘guilt’ unsaid.

But both of her companions knew what she meant.

“Yeah,” Kazimir breathed.

The wizard reached into the pocket of his robes for the small, polished stone that connected him to Captain Errde Blackskull. He hesitated, his thumb rubbing its smooth surface before relaying the news and location of the bodies. Blackskull’s response was swift and clipped, but the tiefling could tell it significantly weighed on her.

“I will send a recovery team immediately.”

There was a slight pause, and then—

“Thank you for letting me know, Kazimir,” the duergar said softly. “Stay safe. We’ve lost too many already.”

Not for the first time, the tiefling wizard warred with himself internally. Surely, they could have done something more. Or perhaps they should have done the opposite and turned their backs on Blackskull, washing their hands of the duergar city altogether when they had the chance. But a nagging voice in Kazimir’s subconscious that sounded suspiciously like Fraeya argued that Gracklstugh would have been worse off had they done that. If they had not exposed Shal, if they had not broken the succubus’s hold and returned Deepking Horgar to his right mind—

Themberchaud’s attack would have devastated the City of Blades.

And that effect would not have been limited to Gracklstugh. Had the duergar city fallen to the dragon, it would have had untold consequences on the entire trade infrastructure of the Underdark.

“Any news of Amber Thrazgad’s whereabouts?” the wizard finally asked.

“None,” the captain replied curtly.

The link between the sending stones fell silent.

Kazimir sighed. It was strange, given that their interaction with the head of Clan Thrazgad had been limited to just a few short meetings, but the tiefling felt as though a rock had settled in the pit of his stomach. Had the fiery armorsmith met the same fate as Grinta Ironhead?

The wizard took another deep breath and then released it. Around them, the duergar continued their grim work, cleaning the streets and tending to the wounded. There was resilience to them, some stubborn determination to keep going despite all odds. Kazimir had come to respect it during their time in the city. They might not see eye to eye on specific policies—the slave trade, for one—but these were a people who had built their lives in the harshest of environments, who had carved out a place for themselves in the unforgiving Underdark. They would survive this, somehow.

. . . Read more: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35100307/chapters/152830810

[lumendelmari]

Kazimir Oussnddare, tiefling wizard, from 'The Grey Warriors,' a retelling of a completed Out of the Abyss (Dungeons and Dragons) campaign. (Not going to lie, his character portraits might be my favorite. :D)

Read the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35100307/chapters/87436915