Dragon in the Deep

When the inhabitants of Dorwyn first settled in their new home they started to dig, they dug and dug and dug until they had two cities: one in the cliff face of the Wyvern Peaks and one outside. The dwarves and the goblins had both found caverns where the heat was too strong to risk tunneling any further.

One day, a goblin named Krackneth Gro'bumzel took a single pickaxe into one of these chambers. It is said that he took his tool and went to the farthest wall. As his hair was burned off from the heat he took all his strength and slammed the pick into the wall. His strike was so powerful that the legend amongst the goblin clans say that he split the rock and the tunnel he made with one strike was 11 feet deep.

As goblin history tells, Krackneth was gone for three days and three nights before running back to his people screaming about winged flames. He was thought a hero until he spouted these words. After that he was labelled stark raving mad. He was hauled away and tossed in the very cave he had made. It is said that his yelling echoes in that cave to this very day. The yelling was of one word and yet that one word has changed the world. Goblin myth says Krackneth Gro'bumzel yelled "Dragon".

Most thought the goblin yelling nonsense. Dragons did not exist - they could not exist. Such a thing was foolishness even for a child to have uttered. That did not stop the echoes of the Wyvern's Maw - as they called the cave. Most weaponsmiths began to make more weapons than usual. Some started carrying axes or crossbows. For the length of three years there was a truce between the goblins and the dwarves. Should one need aid the other would answer.

On the eve of the fourth anniversity of Krackneth's inprisonment, all the inhabitants heard a noise. A great noise as if the earth itself had ripped itself open. After what seemed like an age, the only sound that could be heard was the screaming of dwarves. The stout people had fought off countless attacks from the nearby goblins, but they had never met a foe like this. As history puts it a great crack formed in the greatest of the dwarven halls, Yzandelleth.

A great serpent with wings and four spiked tails had risen from the ground. Before the serpent had a chance to move a second time dwarven axes and arrows had been thrown and shot. In the matter of a few seconds the Wyrm was launching itself at the dwarves in a fury that none of the little people could match. They scattered and called for aid. The goblins heard of the problem, and they did what was to be expected. They ran, with all their hearts, to their deepest tunnels and safest sanctuaries.

The dwarves and the Great Wyrm fought on for almost a full year. The Dragon would inflict just as much harm as possible before fleeing. It would always be found weeks later having had time for itself to heal. The months went on until the dwarven king, Breadon Golden Blade, had one of his rare moments of genius. He lured the dragon to the top of the Wyvern Pass and at a small plateu he fought the dragon one on one.

Their battle raged on for hours and both were soaked with each others blood. Finaly the dragon found an opening in the dwarven king's guard and took his shield arm. With a cry of anguish the king fought on even harder than before. He had to hold out, he just had to. Finaly after 7 hours of battle with the Great Wyrm, Breadon's plan came into action. The sun rose over the hills and since the Dragon had never seen such light, he was blinded. Golden Blade gave all he had and threw his prized sword, he died before the blade had gone a yard from his hands and pierced the dragon's heart with its razor edge.

To this day, Breadon Golden Blade has been celebrated as the greatest king the dwarves have ever known, and the honour guard patrol the great chasm, along with Wyvern's Maw. They mantain vigilance because, every four years on the day that the Great Wyrm died a roar is heard that chills the bones of those that live in Dorwyn.