Ironhelm - Douglas Niles [116]
"The mountain was born at the time of the Rockfire," explained Luskag when they both paused to catch their breath.
"You've talked about that before," noted Poshtli, between gasps. "What's the Rockfire?"
Luskag looked at him in surprise. "I thought surely the tale was known to all. The Rockfire marks the birth of the desert dwarves, but the death of a!l of our kindred dwarves."
Poshtli looked at him in puzzlement, and Luskag continued. "The time was many generations ago, by dwarven reckoning-that means even more, measured in human generations-though no one knows exactly. The dwarves were locked in conflict with their archenemies, the drow elves… the dark elves.
"It was a conflict that wracked the far corners of the world, for the underearth at that time was linked by tunnels and caverns, such that a dwarf could cross under the great ocean, past the vast snow realms of the north and south, anywhere he wanted, without poking his head above the earth.
"And this region was the domain of many peoples-dwarves and dark elves, of course, but also the deep gnomes, the mind flayers, and many others. But none were as evil, as calculating, as the drow.
"The drow maintained a magical focus, deep under the earth, that they called the Darkfyre. Into this, they fed the bodies of their slain enemies, and the Darkfyre grew in power. Finally it overwhelmed those who fed it and grew of its own will into a great force, of cataclysmic destruction-the Rockfire.
"It consumed the world of the underground, destroying most of it. Mountains such as this were born in the fire, while whole cities and nations of the underdark were demolished." Luskag paused, and Poshtli sensed the pain of the tale, a pain that appeared as fresh as if the disaster had occurred only yesterday.
"The dwarven race was annihilated, except for a few small tribes, such as my ancestors. And even they found that life underground was no longer possible, for the hallowed caverns of antiquity, those that survived the fire, became caldrons of poison gas or pools of hot, molten rock. So the dwarves came to the surface, and now we live our lives in shallow caves, very near the baking heat of the sun. Now we dwarves, here in the House of Tezca, are the last survivors of a proud and noble race.
"But one good thing, too, came from the Rockfire. That was the complete destruction of the drow. At least now we live in peace, unthreatened by their evil machinations."
Poshtli lowered his eyes in respect for his companion's pain. He wondered at the power that could destroy a whole people, a whole nation. The dry wind swirled around him, and he felt a sudden chill.
Luskag's pride was evident as he raised his bald head and looked across the House of Tezca. The barren, hot desert became muted with distance, when viewed from this lofty vantage. The reds and browns and yellows flowed together in soft shades. The harsh and jagged skyline became a thing of beauty-distant, aloof, and unassailable.
"And the Sunstone… that, too, was born of the Rock-fire?" asked Poshtli, with a glance toward the summit.
Luskag nodded and climbed to his feet. "And we'd best get moving if you would consult the stone today. The sun will be high in the sky shortly, and we must reach the top before then."
Poshtli grunted acquiescence and stood stiffly. They had climbed most of the way up the mountain, but the last bit was the steepest, strewn with loose rock and dirty patches of snow. His mind became a haze of fatigue. Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision. They had brought no water. Luskag had informed him that the body and soul must be bared by the climb. One who sought the insight of the Sunstone must be pure and show his devotion by such abstinence.
Finally they crested the summit, and Poshtli saw that they stood upon the rim of a vast volcanic