Visions Of Torik's Prophet

Torik (Tornus/Torinos/Torvik) gave six visions to the Prophet: **

I. The Duervan Lock

He sees a strange wall with unfamiliar runes upon it, set within a circle. Then the sun shining in his eyes. Then a blue sphere, with white and green, set in a black star filled sky. Then a silvery helm in a silver chamber.

II. How to slay the serpent

He sees himself facing the serpent, surrounded by the great warriors again. They are unarmed, though, and reach to him. But this time he receives visions of the weapons he must collect. He realizes that, to defeat the serpent, they will need to gather legendary artifacts tempered in the blood of the titans. The serpent is a titan and so this is the only way to slay the beast.

III. The Axe:

Before me rose a great titan, half as tall, it seemed, as the mountains behind it. All around it gathered a host of ruddy skinned giants with massive hammers who warred with an army of dwarves. The dwarves swarmed over their foes, hacking their legs, and cleaving them with axes and swords. A mighty warrior proudly took the front, sweeping aside all foes with his powerful axe. His foes fell before him until he stood before the mighty titan, and though it strove to smite him he deftly avoided its earth shattering blows. Then the dwarf, whose eyes shown with rage, and whose golden beard was soaked in blood, reared back with his mighty axe and hurled it at the titan. Over and over again his axe slammed into the Titan, always flying back to his hand, until the titan bled from many wounds. But, it did not fall, and in its wrath it brought a great landslide down upon the battling armies. The hero survived, though, and raising his axe once more he threw with all his strength, and his aim was true, for the axe buried itself into his foe’s skull. The titan, stiff as stone, fell back into a vast lake, huge waves crashing against the shore, and it sunk deep into the depths. The axe never returned to the dwarf, but I saw him again as a man of ancient years, sitting upon a golden throne before a host of his kin, and they now ruled over the mountain that rose before that lake, and they delved into its heart, unearthing great treasures.

IV. The Sword:

In my vision I saw the ancient rycer Hrodulf, leading a battle against the dwarves of the Steel Mountain, for in that time our two peoples warred for dominion of the dark fold lands. The Moarvik warrior was courageous and valorous, and even in battle he showed mercy and honor. But it was, that in their greatest march upon the foot hills of the steel mountain itself that his army was smote and he fell to a terrible wound. When the battle was over the Duervan thaim found him wounded and dying. The dying warrior congratulated the thaim for his victory, and, holding out his glorious sword which he named Dar’Drondavölr (Gift of the Thundering Bolt), he asked that the dwarven lord keep it safe until another moarvik warrior with just as much courage and honor came to claim it. So great was his respect for the rycer that the thaim brought his body back to his mountain castle and there entombed him in a the hall of his ancient fathers. Then the dwarven thaim, sitting upon a golden throne, proclaimed that the dark fold lands would thereafter belong to the Moarvik people, for they had won it with the blood of their greatest man.

V. The Hammer:

I saw a great mountain rising above a massive lake, and the mountain was on fire. A great crevice was opened near its heights where a mighty castle was built, and the castle was on fire. A mighty wyrm swooped and belched flame upon the crags, where many dwarves were hidden. Their axes fell short, and their arrows broke upon its scaly hide. Then the beast dropped upon the walls of the castle, and tore them asunder, throwing the mighty stones down the mountainside and into the depths of the lake. Cloaked in black smoke it tore through the gates and dug into the halls of the steel mountain. From within the trembling smoke filled hall I saw a group of dwarves gathered around a stone alter and resting upon this alter was a mighty anvil, and the anvil and alter were covered in bits of iron, gold, silver and steel. They removed the anvil and four dwarven priests surrounded the stone alter. Then a great dwarven smith strode forth, with char in his silver beard, and arms as thick as trees. He went to a wall and brought down a mighty hammer, so large it stood nearly twice his height. He stood before the alter and placed the giant’s hammer upon it. The priests chanted, their deep voices bellowing against the cries of the dragon. The hammer began to glow, its runes burning like a furnace. When the rote was sealed the smith lifted the a mighty maul. He strode from the temple, and hurried up narrow stairwells while the mountain shook. He came to a small door far above the great gates, and holding the hammer with one hand he made his away along a narrow crag and climbed upon the massive outcropping that rose above the castle where the dragon raged. Raising his maul he called out to his gods and hammered it down upon the mountainside, which split with a thunderous crack. The earth upon which he stood shook and gave way beneath him, a massive sheet of the mountain then fell upon the burning ruins of the dwarven castle. The inferno was smothered in blasts of shattered earth, and the dragon was gone. So too, though, was the great hero. Though the dwarves searched the rubble for many days, they never found his remains, just the rune covered giant hammer. The dwarves reentered their mountain halls, through hidden entrances rarely used, and began to dig through the rubble to reach their once glorious halls. When they reached it, they found the dragon there waiting for them. It belched its fire and pursued them into the depths, through what passages it could fit, for the dwarves had in vanity built their chambers of vast heights and width to show their glory of their skill with stone. Deep into the mountain it climbed, driving the dwarves down into the depths, until they escaped it by fleeing into the cavernous catacombs where they entombed their ancient thaims and heroes. Here they placed the maul of the forge-master and, having no way to escape, waited to die of hunger. One dwarf, though, daringly went to the tomb of an ancient thaim and taking the holy sword of a long dead hero, strode out to face the dragon. His brethren, seeing his courage, followed him to their doom.

VI. The Spear:

I saw a train of men, dressed in strange armor and wearing cloaks of various colors. They were swarthy, with dark hair and dark bronzed skin. They followed one man, taller than the rest, who strode before them as some walking idol. They came to a great lake shining in the sun. The man threw off his crimson cloak, and threw down his shield. In one hand he lifted his mighty spear and called out to his gods that this day he would know victory. Then he dove into the depths of the lake and swam deep. He swam down into darkness and yet he had no need for air. Finally before him he saw a great cave entrance and he swam beneath the cliff and up into a vast chamber. Emerging from the water he climbed upon a rocky shore and the only light was that bluish-green ambience given off by the spear. Then flame engulfed him, but he drew forth a wall of water to cast aside the flames and strode forth to face a great dragon who rose from the darkness. Fire and water collided, steam and smoke filled the chamber. The warrior drove his spear forwards, battling the great beast. The dragon clawed and snapped, and belched fire. Finally, though, the warrior prevailed, his spear buried in the dragons gullet. It fell to the ground, but with its dying breath it belched forth a noxious cloud of ash and sulfur that burned and choked the great warrior. He climbed through the failing light, seeking the water, but it was useless. He fell to death and darkness. Victorious, yes, but ignominous in his death.

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