#snorri ironforge

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None can Break- Part Twelve

Summary: Selene and Edwin have a small heart-to-heart before heading down to the Hammer and Anvil's barroom to drown their collective sorrows, Firetome finds out an interesting tidbit that will help his own schemes and all the dwarves of Fangthane have noticed that the mountain's unhappy about something as it won't stop tremoring.

Words: 2,487

Warnings: None that I can tell. Enjoy the shippy fluff that's in here.

Notes: I am very pleased to have found out what motivates Firetome to do what he does in Fangthane's Folly and the Anvil's Fall. in the meantime, I need to go give Edwin a hug

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @sparrow-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe

Firetome drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently. It had been hours since he’d sent young Gurrisdottir off to the Archives to find those records for him. True, it the records he was after were probably highly restricted, but surely the Archivers would be happy to help her once she showed them the note he’d given her. 

A Shaper? Here, in Fangthane? Either Kherillim had seen fit to Bless a different family due to the apparent doom that was coming for the world, or his was not the only family left in the mount with a connection to the Purged. He would know for certain either way if the girl would just hurry up with those records already!

Firetome’s mind spun with the possibilities. While Gruksdottir had clearly been raised Moradhir, was her family simply low-lying Throffites like his own? If so, then perhaps they could be convinced to join him and his fellows in unseating the Heretical Goldseeker line for good. The High Inquisitor seethed at the old memory that bubbled up to the surface:

“But Da, if Moradin’s not even really from Titan, why do we even have to worship him?” the beardlet protested. He yelped as his father swiftly clipped him around the ear,

“Hold yer wheesth, lad!” the older dwarf hissed, “D’ye want to be taken away, like yer uncle was?” Skarld’s eyes went wide with pain and fear and he fervently shook his head. His father nodded in satisfaction, “Then don’t go around saying such things where folk can hear. All you need to ken is that Moradin overthrew the Goddess that created us and the king and his family agree with Him.”

While Firetome now knew his father had greatly simplified the matter, the fact yet remained that the royal family were responsible for allowing an Outsider God into the midst of the people of Fangthane, no matter how much they now insisted that Throff was still just as revered as their supposed Dwarf Father. He was startled out of his thoughts as the door to his office swung open,

“I finally got the records ye asked for, yer Eminence.” Gurrisdottir’s voice called from the doorway, “I’m sorry it took so long, I had to spend an hour arguing with one of the Archivers, and it took them an age to find the one you were after.” The younger dwarf frowned as she placed the slates onto the desk in front of Firetome, but said nothing as she waited for permission to leave. Firetome smiled at her,

“Thank you very much for getting this for me, Birghe.” he said in his most fatherly tone, “Please don’t worry about it taking so long. Ordinarily I’d ask Vera to get these for me, but she’s out on a training exercise. I’ll have a word with the Archivers and see that this sort of nonsense doesn’t happen again.” The sandy-haired Acolyte bowed deeply,

“Thank you, sir. Do you need anything else?” she asked. Firetome shook his head,

“No, thank you, Birghe, you’re free to return to your duties.” he said, “Please pass on my apologies to Sister Imraksdottir for keeping you away for so long.” He gave the younger woman another indulgent smile as she bowed again, then walked out of his study. The smile dropped from his face the moment she closed the door behind her,

“I suppose I’d better keep an eye. I don’t need Ragnarsson questioning why I’m even after these.” he muttered, sliding the protective slate to one side and peering at the family tree that was now laid out before him. The High Inquisitor’s eyes slid up from the bottom, tracing the line from Gruksdottir herself until he noticed a name familiar to him from his grandfather’s stories,

“Well now. I wonder how long the Church was going to keep that little tidbit under wraps.” he murmured, stroking his beard as he stared at the dotted line that had been crossed through between ‘Merewin Stonespeaker’ and ‘Ragnar Goldseeker’. “Looks like I need to ask the Record Keepers some questions.” Smiling to himself, Firetome pulled out a drawer and picked up the winged eye necklace from it,

“If all goes to plan, then Fangthane will be ours by the end of the year, my Lord. Then we can finally oust the Usurper Gods from this world for good and reinstate the Natural Order.” The necklace grew warm in his hands,

Firetome’s smile fell, what a disappointment. He nodded,

Well done. However, do not rely on the help of the Shaper girl. She has been too corrupted by the Usurper to be useful to our cause. Be careful around her.

“Of course, my Lord.” he murmured, gently placing the necklace back in the drawer and locking it. He glanced back at the Record on his desk. Well, if nothing else, he had evidence that King Jotunn’s decree hadn’t entirely wiped out the Redhammer heritage from Fangthane. Oh what a delight it would be to throw that in His Majesty’s, and the Church’s faces. Satisfied, Firetome returned to the paperwork he’d abandoned upon getting the news about Gruksdottir, feeling much better about his chances.

Edwin grimaced as he watched Selene throw her belongings into her personal Bag of Holding,

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't help any more." He sighed, "Will you be alright to make it back to Toreguarde alone?" He asked. Selene huffed out a stressed sigh,

"Getting back is the easy bit." She said, her voice strained, "The hard bit is going to be telling everyone else that there's nothing I can do about the Seal, aside from hoping for yet another Divine Intervention. At least I've got time to organise a full evacuation for when…" she trailed off, shaking her head and gulping down her emotions. 

Edwin his fingers over his brow. Selene didn't need to finish her sentence. He knew full well what would be coming the minute the Seal failed entirely. Gods damn it all, why was king Storri being so damned stubborn? The cleric felt the floor under his feet vibrate, a low dangerous growl emanating from the earth below. While he was no devotee of Moradin or Throff, he'd lived in Fangthane long enough to know what such a thing portended. He cautiously laid a hand on Selene's shoulder, his heart squeezing painfully at her dejected slump,

"While His Majesty is being unreasonably stubborn, I believe that his mind can, and will, be changed." He said softly, "Don't give up entirely. Not yet." He said, his voice soft. Selene leaned back into the touch, shuddering out another sigh. She looked up at him with a small, fragile smile,

"I'll try." She said, "If he does, can you let me know? I'd rather know if I need to call off any evacuation efforts than take the risk that he won't, or will leave it until the last possible moment." Edwin nodded,

"Of course I will." He said, squeezing his old friend's shoulder. Selene leaned her head against the cleric, briefly closing her eyes,

"Thank you." She murmured. Edwin resisted the sudden urge to kiss the woman's forehead. Where had that even come from? He settled for hugging her instead,

"No matter what happens, I will be here any time you need me." He told her, "Even if you get told I'm busy, keep insisting. I'm not leaving you to face this alone." The cleric's resolve hardened as Selene nodded. He couldn't, and wouldn't, allow disaster to befall anyone else. He'd already failed Alexis and Fai. He wasn't going to fail Selene. Edwin felt oddly disappointed when Selene finally broke the hug,

"Sorry, I should be getting on with this." She said with a half-hearted chuckle, "Don't want His Royal Pain In The Ass sending over his kingsguard to kick me out." Edwin shook his head to clear it,

"I seem to recall you saying he was giving you another day." He pointed out, "At least stay until morning, Snorri and Gruk are going to be right upset if you leave without saying goodbye properly." His heart skipped when Selene snorted, looked back at him and smiled,

"I suppose it would be a bit rude to up and leave without having a few pints for the road." She agreed, "Let me just make sure I've got everything, then we can head down to the bar."  

Archlector Vanskleig sighed as he felt the floor under his feet vibrate violently. While he was of a mind to march up to the palace to give the young king of Fangthane what for following his little tantrum at the meeting earlier that day, the wrath the mountain was channelling was not Moradin's. It was Throff's. The elderly dwarf settled into his armchair and picked out another biscuit from the box next to him, dipping it into his tea to soften it. Best to leave Her to it, he decided, he could help deal with the cleanup after.

Half the mountain was abuzz with rumours that the elemental of Fangthane was getting restless as the tremors continued throughout the afternoon. The landlord of the Elemental's Crack spent most of that time making sure that everything in the pub was utterly secured and couldn't fall off if the Elemental did decide to go for a walkabout. 

Gruk frowned as he felt the floor under his feet vibrate again. Despite his father having been a Stonespeaker –one of the best of his generation – the ability had skipped a generation, leaving the smith unable to figure out what in the Pit was going on with the mountain he called home. It didn’t help that the one family member who could hadn’t felt like coming to her uncle’s pub for almost a month. Snorri placed Gruk’s stein in front of him, breaking the younger man out of his reverie,

“What’s on your mind, wean?” The elder Ironforge asked, sitting down heavily in the seat next to Gruk. Gruk snorted,

“I wish ye’d stop calling me that. I’m not even the youngest one.” he protested.Snorri chuckled,

“Well, if Ufgi showed up more often, I wouldn’t need to.” he pointed out, “So, I’ll ask again, what’s on yer mind?” Gruk looked at his older brother incredulously,

“Aside from my youngest daughter stressing herself out to the hells and back, the fact that we ken that, unless she gets out there to help, that we’re gonna have another Demon War on our hands and now the mountain’s complaining about something and neither of us can tell what in the Pit’s wrong with it?” he replied, ticking off each issue on his fingers. Snorri shrugged,

“Well, I think I can help with the last one.” he said, “Word in the vein from the Stonespeakers that’ve turned up here rather than risking the Crack is that summat’s gone and upset it. They can’t say what because, apparently, it’s talking nonsense and no one can figure it out, but that seems to be the general gist.” Gruk scoffed,

“Da probably would’ve figured it out hours ago.” he said bitterly, “Knowing our luck it’s because that damn Seal’s already given way.” 

“Given I haven’t had any panicked Scrys sent to my personal mirror in the last hour or so, I very much doubt it.” Selene’s voice stated from behind the two dwarven men. Snorri grinned at her,

“Well, that’s a relief, but it still doesn’t answer the question of what the hells is up with the mountain.” The ex-slayer’s face fell when he noticed the pack lying at Selene’s feet, “Ye’re leaving already?” he asked. Edwin grimaced as he joined the group at the table, two pint glasses already in his hands,

“His Majesty has decided that he’s had enough of our visitor and is giving her until tomorrow to pack up and get out.” he sighed, placing the glasses on the table. Gruk’s frown deepened further,

“What, did ye insult his honour or summat?” he asked. Selene shrugged and necked half her pint before answering,

“He started it.” she replied shortly. Snorri slowly got up and sent his brother a look,

“I’ll go get Reggie to deal with the bar tonight.” he said, “I’ll be right back.” Gruk cocked his head as he returned his attention to the Grand Magus and the Abouna,

“What even happened?” he asked, already dreading the answer as the vibrations in the floor became stronger. Selene downed the rest of her pint, huffed a stressed sigh and spent the next ten minutes informing the increasingly outraged smith of what had transpired in her meeting, quietly leaving out the location of the God Clay at Edwin’s suggestion.

“So, in summary, I’m free to go get the godsdamned clay if I feel like it, but His Majesty will be damned if he’s going to actually help.” she finished. The whole pub had stopped to listen into the wizard’s rant the moment it had started, after all such rants were normally extremely entertaining. This one, however, had not been. Right as voices started to rise in protest, the floor jerked violently once, then fell still, causing the voices to die almost immediately. Edwin, who had been leaning on the table, shaking his head as he listened to Selene’s rant, shot upright, jolted from his thoughts as a shock of divine power rippled through the magical weave. A dozen other dwarves followed suit seconds after, most of them lower level clerics and paladins of various faiths. Selene, looked around the room, frowning as she felt a smaller ripple in the weave,

“What was that?” she asked, a pit of dread building in her stomach. Edwin shook his head,

“I’m… not sure.” he admitted, pulling out his Holy Symbol and muttering a prayer to it. He sighed in relief when Galana immediately answered his call, a soothing river of warmth filing him from head to toe.

My sister’s taking care of things.

Edwin blinked. It was rare for Galana to give him any direct messages, especially one as short and straightforward (yet still frustratingly vague) as that. He shrugged at the perplexed look Selene was giving him,

“Apparently Throff’s taking care of matters.” he said, “I’ve no idea how.” he added as Selene opened her mouth. The wizard grimaced,

“Well, at least it’s something.” she grumbled. She glanced over to Gruk, who was frowning into his stein, “You alright there Gruk?” she asked.

Gruk peered into his beer as though it held any answers to the questions that now ran through his mind. He was no cleric- he hadn’t once felt the Call like Meredith had, and he had never had any inclination to get involved with the divine in any way, shape or form-and yet he knew he’d felt something at the same time as all the clerics and paladins had. His stomach twisted uncomfortably right as the doors of the Hammer and Anvil were slammed open.

[aquadestinyswriting]

I’ll bite even though it’s no longer Monday :p. Answering for the Titan OCs because I need to ask other people about the Star Wars lot.

Selene: Her favourite thing to actually savour and drink is a good rum sourced from the coast of the Gulf of Shamaz. Yastromo used to get all sorts of things from the coasts sent to him and, while he was a port man, he introduced Selene to the rum that he’d gotten given that one time and she enjoyed it. For getting wankered though, she prefers vodka. As for stopping, she didn’t get a choice once she moved in with Edwin because he’d had enough of his friends using alcohol as a coping mechanism for their various traumas ^^;.

Edwin: Speaking of, Edwin is a fan of stout. It was something of an acquired taste for him, but the dwarves he lived among were happy to help him find something to suit. He doesn’t drink often, mind you, but when he does his drink of choice is the Ironforge brew.

Meredith: Drinking alcohol is like breathing to most dwarves and Meredith is no exception.�� Her favourite tipple is her uncles double malt whisky, though it’s something she drinks fairly rarely (mostly because Snorri doesn’t make a lot of it to begin with). For the most part, Merri drinks ale and doesn’t really mind where it comes from so long as it’s dwarven made ^^;. She does stop drinking unwatered alcohol during her pregnancies, but otherwise she sees no real need to.

Yoruk: For a dwarf, Yoruk doesn’t really drink to excess. Ionah disliked seeing and hearing the drunken debauchery that is common to her people and passed this distaste to her son (though Yoruk is more relaxed about others, he would really rather not get drunk himself). His drink of choice is an ale sourced from the brewer that sends their wares to the upper districts and the palace.  If he was asked to forgo any alcohol at all, Yoruk is one of the very few dwarves in Titan that actually will, even if he would grumble incessantly about it for a few days to start with out of habit :p. 

Meet & Greet Monday Open Ask 11 Jan

Happy MGM again. Still in the vein of typical “January resolution” things:

Does your OC drink? If so, what’s their drink of choice? Do they wish they could stop?

@stsmgm

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None Can Break- Part Ten

Summary: King Storri has an intimate meeting with Ragnarsson, Head Librarian Haneskeeper and the Archlector, along with both of his children. In the meantime, Gruk finally admits that his youngest daughter might be the only person in the mountain that can help the Grand Magus in her quest.

Words: 3,423 a little longer than usual, but it's necessary.

Warnings: None

Notes: So who wants to know more about Fangthane's sordid history? This was such a fun chapter to write, but by all the gods, Selene can be so dense sometimes.

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes, @blind-the-winds, @writeblrsupport, @writeblrcafe

Despite an extensive search, the caster of the Fireball thrown into the middle of the council chamber was not found. While Captain Bloodvein had been annoyed that his guard for the Grand Magus had left the woman unattended, if only briefly, he had acknowledged the necessity. Thankfully, no one had been seriously hurt in the attempted assisination, but it was very clear to everyone involved that the target had been the Grand Magus herself, rather than the king or any of the Fangthane council members.

KIng Storri paced around his office, hands held firmly behind his back while Head Librarian Haneskeeper, the High Priest of Moradin and the Archlector watched from their seats. Prince Garin, stood awkwardly in the corner, eyeing his father warily, while his twin sister, Crown Princess Garni, poured out some much needed sweet tea.

“Come now, Father, you’ll wear yourself out with all that pacing, sit down and have some tea.” Garni said. Storri huffed a sigh and looked over to his daughter with a wane smile,

“My apologies Garni, I’ll sit down in a minute. Still too frazzled by what happened.” 

“Aye, we’re all a wee bit frazzled, Your Majesty, but the princess is right; ye’ll feel better once you’ve had something to drink.” Ragnarsson said. Storri huffed an irritated sigh, stopped pacing and grudgingly sat down and picked up the teacup. He took a small sip of the drink, then placed it back on the table. He sat back and ran a hand down his face,

“So, what are we gonna do about this?” he asked, “We all know the Grand Magus is like to want to leave much sooner now there’s been a public attempt on her life. Not that I’ll complain if she leaves early, mind, but I’m worried that we still don’t have any clue as to who did it.” 

“If I may, father, Captain Bloodvein is of the opinion that it was probably a member of the Cabal. He said something about the stink of dark, arcane magic.” Garin said. Storri lifted his head and looked at his son out of the corner of his eye,

“If that’s the case, then there’ll probably be more attempts.” he grumbled, “Any suggestions on how we handle things?” he asked the rest of the group. Haneskeeper shook his head, as did Ragnarsson. The Archlector, however, ran his fingers through his beard, his expression thoughtful,

“If this individual is the type to keep hanging around, then may I suggest a smaller meeting with the Grand Magus in a more secure part of either the palace or the Cathedral?” He said, “A second, very public, convening of the Council is likely to give the miscreant the opportunity to cause quite a lot of collateral damage should they make another attempt on the good Grand Magus’ life.”

All three other men stroked their beards thoughtfully. Garni scoffed,

“Forgive me, Yer Eminence, but if this individual is going to keep making attempts on the Grand Magus’ life, then surely it is in the best interest of the people of Fangthane for the Grand Magus to be given copies of whatever information it is she seeks and then sent on her way?” she asked. She ignored the warning glare her father sent her way and continued looking directly at the Archlector. The elderly dwarf gave the princess a warm smile,

“While I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, I believe that the Grand Magus has every right to know everything she needs to in order to prevent catastrophe befalling us all.” The Archlector looked over to Ragnarsson, “After all, it is not just the possible location of the God Clay that she requires.” he added, voice low. 

Storri frowned in confusion as he looked between the Archlector and Moradin’s High Priest. The latter was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. A few long moments later, Ragnarsson huffed a stressed sigh with a shake of his head,

“As much as I would rather we didn’t have to share that particular bit o’ knowledge, if using the God Clay is the only way to stop that hellmouth from being prised back open again, I suppose we have no other choice.”  he grumbled. Storri’s frown deepened,

“What d’ye mean ‘that particular bit of knowledge’?” he asked lightly, “If the Church has something to share, then I would very much like to hear about it.” Haneskeeper frowned, running his fingers through his greying, brown beard. Slowly his movements slowed and his eyes widened,

“Wait, ye canna possibly mean..?” he asked, trailing off as Ragnarsson glanced over to him and nodded, before returning his attention back to his increasingly irate king,

“I believe High Librarian Heimlig and High Inquisitor Firetome have previously explained that the Grand Magus did not only need access to the God Clay, but a Shaper as well?” he asked. Storri nodded, his face twisting into an unhappy grimace,

“Aye, that they did, though neither elaborated on that particular point.” he said, “They didn’t seem to think that we could provide one. Though, to be honest, I was more concerned about the God Clay itself at the time. Perhaps I should have asked them more about it.” he added with a shake of his head. Ragnarsson glanced over to Haneskeeper, who was staring, open-mouthed at the other man, disbelief writ plain over his weathered features. Haneskeeper shook his head and turned his attention to the king,

“A Shaper, Your Majesty, is an individual who has been Blessed by Kherillim with the ability to use and… well, shape, God Clay.” the old librarian explained, “It’s an ancient ability that was only ever found in one family line, passed down directly from one generation to the next. However, the line became extinct several centuries ago, during the War of the Red Hammer. There shouldn’t be a Shaper for the Grand Magus to use.” Storri frowned as he considered the information. Garni tapped her chin thoughtfully,

“Oh, wasn’t that the war that started because some cousins all the way over on the western coast of Allansia turned their worship to Ladeurger and were all turned into Duregar by Moradin as punishment?” she asked, “I remember reading a bit about it not long ago. Apparently there was a line that was once Blessed by Kherillim that fell from Her grace and were punished along with all the other heretics in the Purges that came in the war’s aftermath.” Haneskeeper nodded and smiled at the girl,

“I see ye’ve been keeping up with yer lessons, Your Highness.” he noted proudly. He turned his attention back to the other men in the room, “By all historical accounts, the Blessing in question should not currently exist.” 

Now that Garni had mentioned it, Storri did recall having to learn about the war of the Red Hammer in his own youth, along with the history of the Purges when he asked why so many clans were no longer talked, or written, about afterwards. He looked over to Ragnarsson and the Archlector, confused,

“So ye’re saying that Fangthane’s Church of Moradin has a Shaper, despite the fact that it should be an extinct ability?” he asked. Ragnarsson nodded,

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Your Majesty." The older man confirmed, "We've been keepin' it quiet because it's something that a lot of people with ill intentions will be very interested in." 

"Given that the girl exists at this particular time, however, is not a coincidence." The Archlector stated, "The Grand Magus has already all but stated outright that the God Clay is the only way to permanently seal the portal to the Pit that currently rests beneath her tower. While we do not have any of the God Clay here, we do have someone who can use it."

Storri stroked his moustache as the two clerics spoke. He was not happy to hear that such information had been kept from the Royal Family, though he understood Ragnarsson's reasoning. 

"You said girl," Storri said slowly, staring at the fireplace behind and between Ragnarsson and the Archlector, "how old?" He asked, already dreading the answer. Ragnarsson sighed,

"Not long reached age of majority, Your Majesty. We had her fully ordained as a cleric almost a year ago, on the Archlector's suggestion, rather than waiting 'til the next Throff's Day." 

Storri frowned, staring into the fire. While said girl was technically a woman, she was still so young… The king shook his head,

"Very well, we might as well convene a small meeting with only a few, senior members of the Council." He said. He turned his attention to Garin, who came to his father's side almost immediately, "Garin, please have a message sent to the Grand Magus informing her that there will be a meeting, arranged at our earliest convenience, to discuss any aid that we might be able to render." He said. Garin nodded, bowed, and quickly left the room. Garni cocked her head, her brow furrowing in consternation,

"Father, you cannot mean to –" she was quickly cut off by her father's stern glance,

"Nothing has yet been decided." He stated shortly, "The meeting is merely to go over the options available." 

The Archlector gave the affronted princess a soft smile, leaning forward,

"I realise that you worry for the young lady in question, Your Highness, and I am glad that you do. However, should it be Moradin's will that she go to Toreguarde to right the wrong that has been done to the world, then she, and we, must abide by it." He reminded her, glancing briefly over to Storri. Garni nodded, sitting back in her seat, chastened,

"Aye Yer Holiness." She said quietly. Storri bowed his head; he knew very well that to defy the Gods was folly. However, a small part of him still bristled. Fangthane couldn't afford to lose more people, especially the youngest of them. If the girl had a talent that was believed to have been extinct for centuries, then surely the Crown and Church had a duty to ensure her safety above all else?

Haneskeeper was the first to leave, muttering about needing to check the records held in his library. Garni, recognising her father was in a maudlin mood when Storri barely acknowledged the elderly dwarf, was quick to take responsibility for seeing her family's guests out the door.

Ragnarsson shook his head as he escorted the Archlector to their carriage,

"Do you think His Royal Nibs is going to let the lassie go with our wizard friend?" He asked, the two of them settling into their seats as the carriage rocked into motion. The Archlector leaned his head back, looking out the window at the palace,

"If not, then he will be in for a very rude awakening once Moradin deigns to take matters into His own hands." The ancient dwarf replied wearily. "For now, my friend, all we can do is wait." 

~*~

Selene tickled Chrackle under his beak and handed him a piece of the meat on her plate,

“Now, don’t go begging everyone else for some.” she warned, “You’ve had plenty.” Chrackle said nothing, either aloud or mentally, but he did send his wizard a short glare before flying back up into the rafters of the main barroom of the Hammer and Anvil. The pub was quiet, mostly because Snorri had only allowed his family and closest friends inside. It wasn’t that Selene wasn’t grateful, but she did worry that the landlord was going so far out of his way to help her,

“You don’t have to keep closing your establishment on my account, Snorri.” she said when the landlord returned to the table with another round of drinks, “I would have been perfectly happy to have stayed in my room.” she added. Snorri shook his head vehemently,

“I’ll no’ have a bunch of folk botherin’ ye with silly questions or comments, hen.” he replied. “Besides, it’s easier for yer security to keep an eye on ye with fewer folk around.” he added, nodding to the small group of kingsguard that were sitting at a nearby table, currently thoroughly enjoying Snorri’s hospitality. Edwin sighed,

“He’s got a point, Sel, I do feel a lot happier knowing everyone that’s in here is someone I know. I know the Crown has officially stated that the assassin that tried to kill you earlier was probably from the Cabal, but I’m not entirely convinced of that fact.” Selene frowned, turning her attention to her fellow human,

“What on Titan makes you say that, Edwin?” she asked, utterly perplexed, “I know there are plenty of dwarves here that have legitimate grievances against my presence, but I doubt any of them would have been stupid enough to have flung a Fireball at me while the Archlector and the King were present.” Edwin grimaced and said nothing, taking a gulp of the stout Snorri had handed to him instead. Gruk spoke up in the cleric’s stead,

“I wouldn’t be so sure, lass,” he sighed. “there was an incident involving a traveller who was passing through not that long ago. Since they’d come from Toreguarde’s way, they got a lot of grief themselves and had some attempts on their life, though the perpetrators were never caught. Most o’ the regulars here suspect that some of the most disgruntled folk in the mountain were responsible, if not directly, then they at least allowed outsiders entry into the mount to do their dirty work for them.” Selene grumbled and took a swig of her own drink,

“I suppose it doesn’t actually matter who it was, in the end. I made a lot of enemies in my time and I haven’t exactly been able to go and deal with them personally. I have a much more immediate problem to deal with anyway.” she said, drumming her fingers on the table and gesturing to the heavy, leatherbound book on the table next to her plate. Snorri blinked, noticing the ever so slight twitch in one of the Abouna’s eyebrows, but decided that, for the moment, it was best to keep his mouth shut. He looked back over to Selene as she started speaking once more,

“I asked Auld Derek if there was anything that he knew of that could help me locate some more information on the God Clay, or about Shapers, but this was the only thing he could find in the library. Apparently if I want something actually useful, I need to ask the Cathedral for access to their archives.” 

Gruk’s head snapped up,

“What was that, hen? Something about Shapers?”

All eyes turned to Gruk as Selene shrugged,

“Yes, the book Egrim let me see from his own collection, made mention that in order for the God Clay to be used, I’d need a Shaper.” she explained, “I figured it would be easier to ask about the God Clay first, then enquire about how to find a Shaper.” Her face pinched into a confused frown as Gruk slowly looked down at the table and shifted uncomfortably. Edwin laid a hand on the smith’s shoulder,

“Something on your mind Gruk?” he asked. Gruk’s worried frown lifted a little as he looked back up at the pair of concerned humans,

“Apologies, was just thinking about something Ragnarsson said a good while back.” he muttered, “It’s probably nothin’, but he did mention something about God Clay and Shapers when we were getting Merri enrolled as an Acolyte way back when.” Now it was Edwin’s turn to frown in confusion, while Selene leaned forward excitedly,

“Do you remember what he said?” she asked, “I only ask because this will give me a lead on who to talk to about it if the Council refuses to answer my questions at the next meeting.” 

Edwin watched Gruk’s expression; the man was clearly having some sort of internal debate about the subject, and Edwin wondered why the smith was suddenly being so cagey. Gruk was usually a very forthright individual, not one to bother with secrecy. Unless…?

Gruk fidgeted as he considered how to answer Selene’s question,

“Well, I do remember him saying that there were a couple of artefacts kept in the vault that were made of God Clay.” he said slowly, “I don’t recall him ever saying anything about the church having any that wasn’t already used to make things.” Snorri cocked his head in confusion,

“Why would he even mention the stuff to you?” he asked, “The only cleric we’ve got in the family is Merri! And ye just said ye were there to enrol her as an acolyte.” The ex-slayer took a breath to carry on with his interrogation, but was stopped by Edwin holding up at hand. The Abouna squeezed Gruk’s shoulder,

“You don’t have to answer, Gruk, but Snorri makes an excellent point.” he said slowly, “The High Priest of Moradin wouldn’t tell you something like that if it wasn’t relevant.” he added. 

Gruk tried not to let his panic show, but he was having a hard time doing so. He should have just kept his big mouth shut. He truly didn’t know much more than what Ragnarsson had told him, but if he told them everything then they’d want his wee baby girl to leave and help solve their problem immediately. He couldn’t let that happen, she was too young and inexperienced in the ways of the wider world. Another part of him railed against the instinct, reminding him that his youngest daughter was now a grown woman, and she was clearly aching to get out there and help. Who was he to stop her if she wanted to go? While he was no cleric, Gruk knew enough to know that to deny a Call was to defy the very God that his daughter now worked for. He heaved a sigh and looked between Edwin and Selene for a moment before hanging his head,

“It was relevant.” he said, voice low, “Merri found a bowl made of God Clay when she was just a wee bairn. She had gotten some of the claydust on her hands and found she could make things with it. By the time Ragnarsson and I found her, she’d already made a wee mouse companion for herself that was running around her feet.” He explained, “I knew it meant something, but I wasn’t told any details until I went to get the paperwork to enrol her as an acolyte a decade later.” Gruk looked back up, his expression haggard as he looked over to Selene,

“I’ve no idea if we’ve even got any God Clay in the mount, hen, but ye said it yourself; it’s no use to ye if ye don’t have someone that can use it.” 

“And your daughter is probably the only one that anyone knows of that can.” Selene surmised, grimacing at the defeated expression on the smith’s face. She reached over and laid a hand on top of his, “If there was any other way for me to deal with this, I’d jump all over it.” she said apologetically, “The last thing I want is to drag innocent people who had nothing to do with the portal’s existence into this mess.” Gruk smiled up at her,

“I ken.” he sighed wearily, “As much as I don’t like it, my wee girl is grown up and can make her own choice on the matter. And I rather get the feelin’ she’ll jump at the chance to help ye.” Edwin fiddled with one of the braids in his beard, frowning,

“That’s if the Council will let her.” he said, “We don’t even know if the Council wants to tell Selene anything about where she can even find the God Clay yet, never mind sending a barely adult woman to help a city they seem to despise.” he pointed out. Selene huffed a sigh,

“Well, let’s get the next Council meeting out of the way first. If they can’t help with locating the God Clay itself, I can at least make inquiries about them allowing Meredith to help.” 

None of the people around the table had noticed that one of the kingsguard had left the nearby table as soon as the conversation had ended. The heavily armoured dwarf excused himself, stating that he was going to do a quick patrol around the pub. No one noticed him pull out a small hand mirror from one of the pouches on his belt as he walked out the door. Firetome was going to be very interested to hear about this.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None Can Break- Part Six

Summary: Selene's interrogation is finally ended, though she is less than happy with the way she's been treated. Meanwhile, Edwin is consoling a less than happy Gruk about his problems.

Words: 2,326

Warnings: None that I can immediately think of. Let me know if there's anything that needs tagging

Notes: Finally a chapter that's a little bit lighter. Some 'new' characters get their introduction here.

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @asher-orion-writes

Selene stared impassively at the red-haired dwarven man sitting opposite her. She hadn’t been best pleased to have had to spend the night and most of the following morning in the cell she’d been taken to. Nor was she very happy about the reinstatement of the antimagic field or the fact that she had not been permitted to have Chrackle remain with her. So she was understandably irritated when Moradin’s High Inquisitor started stalling following at least two hours of questioning about her motives for her visit.

“I have answered all of your questions to the best of my ability, High Inquisitor. As you can see, given the Zone of Truth that was cast, I have not been lying to you in any sense of the word. I honestly do not know what else you want me to tell you.” Firetome grumbled a little and huffed out a sigh, looking over the notes he’d been taking throughout the ‘interview’,

“I’m sorry, Lady Frigidwake, I was just trying to make sure that there was nothing I’d missed.” he said. He looked up at the human wizard again, “As it stands, yer testimony has indeed been proven true, so there is no reason fer us to hold ye any longer.” He gestured to another dwarf, a young woman with a dark blonde beard who was clearly in training to become an Inquisitor,

“Vera, be a lass and take the antimagic manacles off the good Lady please.” he requested, gathering up the paperwork and shuffling it together. He stood, backed away a step and bowed as Vera unlocked the manacles around Selene’s wrists and took them away, “I know it probably doesn’t mean much, my Lady, but I do sincerely apologise fer the hassle.” Selene glared up at him, rubbing her wrists,

“‘Hassle’ isn’t even the word for it.” she retorted sharply, before recalling herself and shaking her head, “Please inform His Majesty, that I still intend to speak before the Council because I really don’t have any other choice. The artefact I told you about has been the only thing I’ve been able to find that can possibly solve our mutual problem. Had I any other recourse, I would be quite happy to see myself out of the mountain and never bother you again.” Firetome stroked his beard,

“Are ye happy for me to at least inform His Majesty of said artefact ahead of yer meeting with the Council?” he asked. Selene rose from her seat and regarded the dwarf carefully, mulling his question over. Slowly, she nodded,

“Yes. If only to prepare him for the reaction of what will likely be most of the mountain, never mind the Council, given your reaction to what I said.” she said. Firetome gave her another short bow,

“Very well. In the meantime, I’ll have Vera help you collect your belongings  so you can sort yerself out. You mentioned that ye’d be seeking other accommodations?” he inquired. Selene crossed her arms moodily and fixed the Inquisitor with a dark glare,

“Given the manner in which I was treated mere hours after accepting His Majesty’s hospitality, I don’t think it is wise to intrude upon it any longer.” she stated, “I’ll be inquiring about any taverns that have rooms available once I leave.” Firetome sighed and Blessed the wizard,

“In which case, I’ll let ye get on with that. Again, my most sincere apologies fer the way ye’ve been treated. Moradin watch yer steps.” His Blessing given, Firetome swept out of the room. Vera immediately came to Selene’s side, quietly dispelling the Zone of Truth,

“If it helps, my lady, I know of a tavern that would be more than happy to host ye for the remainder of yer visit.” she said. Selene sent the young dwarf a smile,

“Let me guess, the Elemental’s Crack?” she asked. Vera quickly stifled a snort and shook her head, leading Selene out of the interview room and out into the palace dungeons again,

“Och, no. The Crack is right doon the bottom of the residential parts of the mount. I’ll no’ have a visiting dignitary sully themselves headin’ doon there.” the pair of women rounded a corner, “Not that it’s a bad pub or anythin’, it’s just it’s right next to the entrances to the mines and we’ve been havin’ a problem with some unwanted visitors from the underpass comin’ up through that way.” Vera explained. Selene made a quiet ‘huh’ sound,

“I hadn’t realised it was that far down.” she said, “Then again, my last visit to your city was a little too hectic to really parse where everything was in relation to each other. Then there was the fact that half the mountain got up and wandered off for a bit.” Vera snorted, amused,

“Aye, that would throw off yer sense o’ geography.” she agreed, “However, back to the matter at hand; there’s a tavern doon in the tradin’ district whose landlord will likely be happy to host ye fer a day or two. The Abouna is a frequent visitor too.” she added. Selene tapped her chin,

“I think I heard Edwin mention a pub he frequented. The Hammer and…. Something I think.” Vera beamed up at the wizard,

“Aye, the Hammer and Anvil it’s called. The landlord is one of the few Slayers that was accepted back into the mountain after the war ended. His Majesty realised that we just didn’t have enough adult dwarven men left afterwards and issued pardons to any that wanted to come back and help rebuild.” Selene frowned at Vera,

“That was… surprisingly noble of him.” she said slowly, trying to match up her experience of the Low King with what Vera clearly believed was a man of good and noble intent. The pair reached the entrance to the dungeon, where a small troupe of kingsguard was waiting, along with Selene’s things. Vera stopped short of reaching them and shook her head,

“His Majesty is not a bad person, yer ladyship.” she said in a low voice, “But he is very young- barely a century- and a bit afeart of recent events.” she explained. Selene’s frown deepened momentarily, but she lifted it and held out her hand,

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Thank you.” Vera shook the offered appendage. She continued to watch Selene as the human swept up to the kingsguard, bowed her head politely, took her staff and walked out of the dungeons. The cleric frowned. She had only been working under Firetome for a year, but something about the way he'd conducted the interview with the woman had rankled. Not to mention that he seemed to be as cagey about his questions as Lady Frigidwake had been about answering them until he'd stepped outside the limit of the Zone of Truth spell. Vera shook her head, unless she was permitted to approach the Archlector himself, there was no one she could approach about it. The dwarven woman grumbled, stomping out of the dungeons. After all that, she desperately needed a stiff drink or three.

~*~

The Hammer and Anvil was relatively quiet; the evening hadn’t quite set in yet and the only patrons in the pub were those in the mountain purely for business or those dwarves who worked the night shift coming in for a bite to eat before work. Edwin was glad for the peace, the last two days had been quite stressful enough. The human cleric took a sip of his ale as he considered what to say to his drinking companion, who was sitting directly opposite him, head in his sooty hands,

“You’d be better off trying to speak to Father Ragnarsson about it, Gruk.” he said, “Merri isn’t one of mine.” He added. The despondent blacksmith looked up at Edwin looking annoyed,

“Aye, but I canna get a hold of Ragnarsson.”  he protested, “I’ve been trying fer the last two and a bit days, but I keep getting fobbed off!” Another round of drinks was suddenly plonked onto the table between the two friends,

“Ye’ll no’ be gettin’ a meeting with him until our wizard friend is gone from the mount.” Snorri said smoothly, “Word in the vein is that there’s a bit o’ a divide over what the Church’s official position on her is.” The burly dwarf turned his attention to Edwin, “Apparently the lassie’s not long been released, and on her way here. I’ve got a drink here for her already; she good with dwarven made ales?” Edwin beamed up at the burly landlord,

“Thank you, Snorri.” he said, “As far as Selene’s drinking habits go, I’m not sure what she drinks any more, it’s been more than ten years since we’ve been in each other’s company.” he added, “If she doesn’t want the ale, I’ll probably have it and let you know otherwise.”  Snorri nodded and pulled out a key from the pocket of his pinnie, handing it to the perplexed cleric,

“I might be making assumptions here, but if yer wizard friend needs a place to sleep fer the rest of her stay, I’ve got a room made up and available fer her.” Edwin took the key, staring at it for a moment, before looking back up at the near middle-aged dwarf,

“Thank you. You really don’t need to go to such trouble-” Snorri waved a hand dismissively,

“I get all sorts passing through, and ye’ve become enough of a regular to get a favour or two.” he replied, “Besides, you and yer friends did more fer us than folk round here want to admit. An’ don’t start on my reputation or anythin’ either,”  he added, noticing Edwin opening his mouth again, “This is my pub and I’ll put up who I damn well please.” Edwin looked over to Gruk, who shrugged,

“He’s got a point, laddie. Most of the mount might not like yer friends very much after what happened, but for what it’s worth, there’re still plenty of us who appreciate that we still have a world to live in.” Edwin felt his throat constrict, looking between the two men, grateful almost beyond words,

“I- thank you. Knowing that there are still people who believe in them- in us- makes the current situation a lot easier to deal with.” He put the key into a pocket on his vestments and down the rest of his original drink, “I’d best go out and meet Selene before she gets here. If only to find out how many kingsguard I need to buy drinks for for the rest of the evening.” he sighed. Snorri grunted, getting up as well,

“I’d best get back to it then, the regulars’ll no’ be long in coming in. Ye alright to entertain them Gruk?” he asked. Gruk lifted his tankard towards the two other men,

“Aye, I’ll be alright. I’ll give ye a holler if we need ye.” he said. Snorri nodded and bustled back to his bar. Edwin eyed his own mug, then looked at Gruk,

“Keep an eye on that for me will you?” he said, throwing his cloak over his shoulders and heading to the door, “And I know how much is in it!” he called, not even looking back as he exited the pub. Gruk, who had reached over towards said mug, brought his hand back with a grumble, crossing his arms over his chest,

“He’s been here too long.” he muttered, sulking.

It wasn’t long before Edwin reappeared with Selene in tow. The two humans seemed to tower over the single Kingsguard that had clearly been charged with the Grand Magus’ security. Gruk watched with interest as a magpie flew in over their heads and landed on a rafter above the dwarven smith. The bird looked around the pub, tilting its head back and forth several times before croaking and settling down to rest. Gruk returned his attention to his table, smiling widely as Edwin pulled out a seat for the woman that had joined him,

“Hullo there, lass.” he greeted, holding out his hand towards her, “Gruk Ovaksson of clan Ironforge, right pleased to finally meet ye.” The expression on Selene’s face brightened as she took the hand and shook it firmly,

“The pleasure is mine, son of Ovak.” she replied politely, “Edwin told me a little about you and your family before we came in, it’s nice to put a face to the name.” Gruk shifted and glanced over to the Kingsguard that was now sitting next to him,

“Eh, aren’t you Rabbie’s wee lad? Clan Broadfir, aye?” he exclaimed. The younger dwarf nodded, sheepishly,

“Aye, my da became friends wi’ Captain Bloodvein during the Demon War. The Captain put in a good word fer me when I started training as an Ironguard.” he said quietly, “Look, please don’t make this a huge deal. I’m supposed to be workin’.” he added, glancing around the pub. Gruk clapped a hand on the barely-more-than-a-bearling’s shoulder,

“Don’t worry, son.” he soothed, “I ken ye’re here fer work, I just didn’t expect to see you in that kind of fancy getup.” he said, winking at the boy. Selene stifled a laugh,

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve been in a community where everyone knows everyone else.” she noted, “I think you can afford to relax a little though Rabbiesson, Chrackle is an excellent lookout, provided he doesn’t get distracted.” she added, sending her familiar a glare of warning. There was an annoyed croak from the rafters, “You’re just mad because it’s true.” she said, picking up the mug that was handed to her and taking a swig from it. Edwin cleared his throat,

“Well, since we’re all here and settled, how about we all take this rare opportunity to actually relax for once?” he suggested. 

“I’ll drink to that!” Gruk cheered. His cheer was echoed around the table as everyone finally felt the atmosphere relax and the two dwarves and humans began exchanging gossip.

[aquadestinyswriting]

15 Questions OC Edition- Yoruk

Right, so since I've received at least one more tag for this game, I'll be doing this for the other two options that were voted for in the poll I did for this game. Today will be Yoruk, next week his mother.

Once more: Tags are only for those interested in the answers to the questions here. I am not tagging for anyone necessarily to do this game (unless of course, they want to).

Tags: @druidx, @asher-orion-writes, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds

All that said: Let's get into this for one of my favourite OCs.

A quiet corner in the back room of the Hammer and Anvil, Fangthane. Yoruk Bloodvein sits back in his seat, sipping from a small glass containing firewater, while a shadowy figure opposite him nurses a mug of Snorri Ironforge's finest ale.

Interviewer: Thank you for agreeing to see me, especially on such short notice.

Yoruk: It's fine, I'd heard ye were goin' around asking folk a bunch o' questions from Merri. She said ye might ask aboot me.

Interviewer: Ah yes, how is the rest of the family?

Yoruk: They're a'right, but I dinna have all day to chat, so if we ca get this done?

Interviewer: Of course.

1. Are you named after anyone?

I think I was name for one of my great grandpas on my da's side. The Copperheart Clan has a fine and storied history, and the man I'm named after was a hero of great renown at a time when evil was far more prominent in the world. I hope I've lived up to that legacy, despite only playin' a bit part during the whole Ragnarok fiasco.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Oh, that'd be right after Gavid wis born. I ken Merri did all the hard work, but the minute I got that bairn into ma arms, I started bawlin'. Honestly, it's a good thing Elowyn was there to see to my wife because I wis in a right state for at least a good half hour. I'm no' ashamed to admit to that neither.

3. Do you have kids?

As mentioned; I have Gavid. Merri and I do plan on more children eventually, but we're happy with just the three of us for now. He's no' long started moving around, so he's a bit of a handful.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

All the time, I'm fairly certain Merri telt ye it was basically a third language around here. I do try not to use it too often because it gets a bit tiresome to work out when folk are being genuine.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

The body language for sure. I had to get used to quickly working out when a certain birth giver was in a mood and to not bother her with "inane, childish chit chat", and that's carried over to pretty much everybody else. It's pretty helpful in my job, though, it makes working out when someone's bein' a bit shifty without having to rely on magical methods.

6. What's your eye color?

Amber, which is typical for dwarves born into noble families.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Oh Merri told me about those. Happy endings fer definite. We just got incredibly lucky to get our own happy ending and I don't much like the idea of gettin' stressed out for entertainment.

8. Any special talents?

I'm actually a right dab hand at embroidery of all things. One of my tutors from when I was a wee lad was a much aulder woman who liked to embroider her clothes and I begged her to teach me because I thought it made her clothes look beautiful. I taught Merri because she needed something to do while stuck at home during her maternity leave.

9. Where were you born?

Right here in Fangthane, in my father's house.

10. What are your hobbies?

Aside from embroidery, I enjoy a good game of cards or dominoes. We've got a rather serious dominoes tournament going on in the rec room of my chapter house right now. I've made it to the quarter finals of it so far and am hopin' that I can at least make the final.

11. Have you any pets?

Dwarves aren't big on pets, honestly. I used to like petting the miners' ponies when I was a wee lad, but those are working animals. I don't think Alistair, my mount, counts either since he's technically a divine beast who's agreed to carry me around when I need him to.

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I'm not big into sports as such. Most of my time as a lad was spent with tutors to make sure I had a decent upbringing worthy of a man of nobility. I did get into dwarven fencing for a little bit, but felt the rules were a bit too restrictive and gave it up pretty quickly.

13. How tall are you?

Four foot eleven, so one of the tallest dwarves in Fangthane. I think there's only two, maybe three others who are even the same height.

14. Favorite subject in school?

Ididn't attend a school, as such, as I mentioned before, I had personal tutors. I did enjoy learnings some of the finer arts though, having a creative outlet made life a lot more bearable while I was growin' up.

15. Dream job?

I'm pretty damn happy in the one I've got, honestly. It keeps me close enough to my family, and I'm constantly helpin' folk with various wee problems, and it doesn't hurt that the hours are consistent so I can look after my wee boy. I'm determined to be a much more present father than mine was.

Interviewer: Thank you very much for your time, Sir Bloodvein. Your answers were most enlightening, especially when taking the ones your wife gave into consideration

Yoruk: Eh, we had different upbringings despite us both livin' in Fangthane our whole lives. That was bound to happen.

Interviewer: Indeed. I had best be off, I have one more stop on this round and I have quite the journey ahead of me.

Yoruk: A'right, bye then.

The Interviewer backs into the shadows and vanishes with barely a wisp of smoke. Yoruk politely declines to point out that he can see in the dark. and downs the rest of his drink before getting up and leaving.

[aquadestinyswriting]

🌈 RAINBOW SLOTH for the random WIP ask game!

Hi there, thank you so much for the ask :D. Putting my answer under a cut to save everyone's dashes because this is about to get long.

Wild card! Share one thing about your WIP that you have been waiting to be asked about!

The random generator chose The Trouble with Meredith for this question.

I have been waiting to be asked about the rest of the Ironforge children in more detail honestly, so I'll be happy to infodump here. To provide context for the age ranges here, Dwarves reach the age of majority at 65 in Fangthane and can live until they're around 650-700 years old on average.

As of the time of the above WIP, Meredith is the youngest of three children. However, she did have two older brothers that went off to fight with King Nargond in the Demon War, alongside their uncle Snorri. Neither brother made it back. Gruk and Morag were, understandably, quite upset that Snorri managed to come back without the boys in tow, but Snorri's obvious regret prompted Gruk to make amends with his older brother and the two of them are much closer as a result.

Alfolor (or Alfie for short) was mentioned briefly in the story Come Back Again, and was the eldest child of the family. At the time of his unfortunate death he was 153 years old. He'd been working as a smith, alongside his father at the time the Demon War kicked off and had been planning to ask his girlfriend of the time to marry him, but never got the chance to.

Magni was the second child and he was only 138 at the time of his death. Magni had been working as an Ironguard at the time of the Demon War and got himself swept up in the fervour of the moment alongside the vast majority of his unit. Magni did have a boyfriend at the time, who was quick to join him in the fight to save Allansia. It's unknown whether said boyfriend survived since no one in the family have seen him since, but he wasn't counted among the dead at the end of the war.

The third child of the family is Hilde, the only other girl in the family. As of the time of the majority of The Trouble with Meredith series, Hilde is 120 years old and is apprenticing under Auld Derek to become a Librarian Scholar. She's not quite to the level where the old librarian will allow her to take her final tests, but she is very close and is, rightfully, proud of the fact that she'll be one of the youngest Scholars the library has had for at least two generations if she can take the tests in the next couple of years. She's also the only family member who likes animals well enough to keep a Glowwyrm as a pet. Hilde has no plans to get romantically entangled with anyone at present and has basically told her parents to look to her younger siblings for grandbabies.

The last of the Ironforge children I'm going to mention here (since Merri herself is the main character for this series) is Dugald. At time of The Trouble with Meredith series, Dugald is 106 and is apprenticing under his uncle Ufgi as a Runesmith, one of the more prestigious professions found within Fangthane. Dugald showed an aptitude for messing around with metal and runic magic at a young age, much like his uncle, so he was fast-tracked into an apprenticeship to prevent any magical mishaps at home. Dugald does have a partner, though it's still so early into the relationship that he's not even brought said partner home to meet his parents yet. Magni is the most reserved of the surviving Ironforge children, preferring to stay in the background while his sisters take up the space he's left for them.

Thanks again for the question.

Edited because I messed up on the ages. It's been fixed now

[aquadestinyswriting]

Side Character Description Tag Game

Thank you @mariahwritesstuff for the tag, find her post here.

Tagging: @druidx, @asher-orion-writes, @eli-writes-sometimes and anyone else that fancies joining in

Rules: Describe any four characters from your WIP other than the protagonist

Alrighty then. Gonna answer this for an old wip I haven't even converted to series format yet because I have a number of side characters in there that could use more love. Say hello to the side characters of 'The Trouble with Meredith'

Birghe Gurisdottir- Birghe is a good friend of Meredith and was a one-time crush when they were younger. She's still an acolyte at the time the wip takes place, and is a teeny bit jealous that Merri got ordained early, but is otherwise a supportive friend. She's a quiet and bookish type, but isn't afraid to put people in their place when needed.

Morag Ironforge- Morag is Meredith's mother. She can be quite strict and a little overbearing at times, but is very much a loving wife and mother. Morag, despite having lost her two eldest sons ten years prior, is a generally happy and cheerful woman who prefers to look on the brighter side of life; a strong faith in both Moradin and Throff helps a great deal with that. She is definitely the one that's in charge at home, though, and neither her husband or her remaining children forget it.

Snorri Ironforge- Snorri is Meredith's uncle and proprietor of the tavern 'The Hammer and Anvil'. Snorri is one of the very few men in Fangthane that took up the role of Slayer ten years ago that lived to tell the tale. He and a handful of others were pardoned and permitted to come back to Fangthane to help the city rebuild once the Demon War was over. Snorri was very much changed by his experience and, while he's not afraid to get involved in breaking up a fight, he prefers to avoid violence where possible. Prior to the Demon War, Snorri was a drunk who got into barfights constantly and was without a job when everything kicked off. He had been on the verge of being disowned by his family, but was welcomed back with open arms and given the capital to open his pub by his older brothers when he came back and apologised.

Ugri Kiruksson- Another friend of Meredith's, Ugri is the youngest of the group. He's an orphaned child who now lives with his much stricter grandmother and brat of a younger sister. He and his sister were forced into training as clerics by their grandmother after the conclusion of the Demon War. The reason? Ugri's parents were among those duped by the cult of the White Lady and their grandmother felt this was the only way to save their souls. Ugri actually wants to be a runesmith; working to imbue arcane and divine magic into weapons, armour and artefacts. However, his grandmother is staunchly against all expressions of arcane magic and has forbidden the poor fellow from studying it. Despite this, Ugri has chosen to make the best of a bad situation and is a helpful, if irritatingly laid back, friend.