adonis
Footballguy
Once upon a time, in a world not too unlike our own lived a race of men called Dwarves. These dwarves were like other creatures because they loved their dwarven family, they loved to enjoy ale and they loved to work with their hands - whether it was mining, working iron, or using their axes. They were a hard working group, and took pride in their work. While a gruff people, they were quick to lend a helping hand to all or to give a strong pat on the back for a job well done.
The dwarves lived in relative peace with other groups around them, from humans, to elves, to all sorts of other creatures. From time to time, disputes would come up, but each group would send their leaders to meet and work out their difficulties, leaving them all to live in relative peace for many ages. Each group would select members from their own race, and of those leaders, one would be chosen to moderate over the other leaders. Time went on, ages came and passed, and the dwarves were happy.
But then in a neighboring kingdom, a new leader rose from the race of Elves whom the Dwarves did not like. He was different than the other Elves they were used to dealing with, and soon discord was sown in the dwarven community. It was the Elves turn to select the moderator of all the leaders of all the races, and they selected him. This greatly upset the dwarves. They stoked the hot coals of rumors as if using bellows. "I hear he will lead the Elves in to take our axes from us! I heard he doesn't like Dwarves. Someone told me that he's planning to increase the tariffs to collect more in trade for his people!" Fear, anger, and frustration grew and grew.
On and on the rumors went as the leader of the Elves was in charge. The dwarves became increasingly isolated, socializing less and less with others and keeping more to themselves than ever before. Unlike before, where they would come out and visit with neighboring tribes, and spread their population out, they began pulling back, consolidating, until the vast majority of the most frustrated dwarves were living beneath a single mountain - mount Alaug Merag. And as they retreated into the mountain, their skepticism, fear and distrust of the elves grew stronger, fiercer, and more bitter.
Meetings between the elders of the races became less frequent, and disputes were allowed to fester because no resolution could be achieved. The elves would put forward their leaders to help resolve debates, but as the frustration of the dwarves became more severe, the new leaders they put forward had no desire to achieve peace with the Elves, whom they were growing to distrust and despise more and more.
And this continued for a long time. The dwarves began to dig deeper in their mountain of refuge, further isolating themselves but in their isolation, they believed they had found strength. No more did they need to deal with the elves to get things done. The elves were the cause of their problems, they would say, all the while digging deeper and deeper and stoking the coals of outrage at the elves, and at the elven leader.
As the dwarves descended further and further into their mountain mines, the conditions they lived in continued to get worse. The heat was beginning to become oppressive. Mining opportunities began to dwindle. Food was harder to find. Frustration mounted. Tempers boiled. But they knew who their enemy was, and it was the Elves. The Elves were the source of their problems, the dwarves knew, and so they dug deeper, and stoked the fires of rumor ascribing all sorts of untrue things to the Elves and their leader.
And then, one evening at the darkest part of the darkest night of the year, many leagues below the surface of the earth the dwarves stopped digging. This was the time to decide on their new leaders from among them, to help solve their problems and work with the other races to settle disputes and help them as well. The elven leader would be stepping down, and they would be appointing someone to be in charge of all the other leaders. So the dwarves put down their tools and convened.
Many potential leaders among dwarves were put forward. Dwarven leaders who had proven themselves over time in battle. Dwarven leaders who were experts in their field of mining and craftsmanship. Dwarven leaders experienced in negotiating agreements with other races. And there were many others. They all took turns telling those gathered why they would be the best to represent them and why they would be best to manage the other race's leaders. When all had spoken, it was time for the dwarves to gather and select their new leader.
But down in the deepest part of the mine, a single dwarf had kept working, thinking the meeting to choose a leader pure foolishness. "What point is there to choosing someone, since we're still going to have to deal with the Elves." Clank, went the pick-axe on the stone. "We know the elves have forced us in here, with less ore to mine and less food to find". Thwack. "We need to shut ourselves off from the outside world, and just dig deeper and stop fooling with the world outside of this mountain." Thud. The dwarf stopped at the odd sound. The pick-axe had gone through the stone, and into an abyss of sorts. Crumbling rock fell down into the hole, banging against the sides as they descended. Crack. Thump. Snap. And then silence.
The dwarf was just about to go back to digging at another spot when he thought he heard something. Yes, that's it. A drum. And another one. It was getting louder. Bam, Bam, Bam. The sounds seemed to be coming from the deep. The dwarf approached the hole he made, and felt a new heat, stronger than anything he'd felt before, radiating from the opening.
Back in the assembly, the dwarves were still in conversation about whom to select. No one of the leaders was able to adequately summarize the frustration, the anger, the resentment that they were feeling at those outside. None convinced them that they could keep the other races in check and bring the dwarven race back to former glory. This made the decision very tough. Were all of these leaders out of touch with their concerns? For years, they had been sweating in underground...building their mine, deeper...hotter...stronger. The things they knew about the elves they just knew, largely because everyone else just seemed to know it too, and these leaders were not willing to just say what everyone knew was true. It made making a decision very difficult.
And then, they too started to hear the drum beats. Louder. More frequent. Strong, loud, until it was all anyone could hear. Bam, Bam, Bam. The dwarves were starting to get worried. What was this? The noise seemed to be coming from down below.
Then, all of a sudden, a fiery creature sprang up and out from the walls, breaking through tiny cracks and appearing to those gathered as an amorphous being. "It's a Balrog!" some of the dwarves exclaimed! And it was. It had a whip of fire and it was wrapped in shadow, fire, and darkness.
As the dwarves stared, the Balrog assembled itself into a rough approximation of a slightly taller than normal Dwarf, but with fire atop his head. He spoke with a resounding voice and said "I am the Balrog. I have heard your cries for deliverance from the evil Elves and I am here to deliver you." And the dwarves were fearful.
However, as the Balrog continued, he brought voice to their fears, to their concerns. He voiced their anger and spoke clearly about the victory that he alone could deliver against the Elves, Humans and the other races. As time went by, more and more of the dwarves began to lend him their support...some enthusiastically, and others grudgingly as they saw the direction the assembly was moving in.
By the end of the evening, the dwarves had chosen a new leader. A leader of fire and flame, of roughly dwarven form, brought forth from the depths because the dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. Because in their anger, frustration, and fear they isolated themselves, fed their anger by stoking rumors and lies, and continued to dig and delve into the depths, and in doing so, they unleashed the Balrog. A being of fire, flame and anger. But even more damning than that - they made him not only their leader, but the leader over the other races as well. Soon, his reign would come.
The End.
The dwarves lived in relative peace with other groups around them, from humans, to elves, to all sorts of other creatures. From time to time, disputes would come up, but each group would send their leaders to meet and work out their difficulties, leaving them all to live in relative peace for many ages. Each group would select members from their own race, and of those leaders, one would be chosen to moderate over the other leaders. Time went on, ages came and passed, and the dwarves were happy.
But then in a neighboring kingdom, a new leader rose from the race of Elves whom the Dwarves did not like. He was different than the other Elves they were used to dealing with, and soon discord was sown in the dwarven community. It was the Elves turn to select the moderator of all the leaders of all the races, and they selected him. This greatly upset the dwarves. They stoked the hot coals of rumors as if using bellows. "I hear he will lead the Elves in to take our axes from us! I heard he doesn't like Dwarves. Someone told me that he's planning to increase the tariffs to collect more in trade for his people!" Fear, anger, and frustration grew and grew.
On and on the rumors went as the leader of the Elves was in charge. The dwarves became increasingly isolated, socializing less and less with others and keeping more to themselves than ever before. Unlike before, where they would come out and visit with neighboring tribes, and spread their population out, they began pulling back, consolidating, until the vast majority of the most frustrated dwarves were living beneath a single mountain - mount Alaug Merag. And as they retreated into the mountain, their skepticism, fear and distrust of the elves grew stronger, fiercer, and more bitter.
Meetings between the elders of the races became less frequent, and disputes were allowed to fester because no resolution could be achieved. The elves would put forward their leaders to help resolve debates, but as the frustration of the dwarves became more severe, the new leaders they put forward had no desire to achieve peace with the Elves, whom they were growing to distrust and despise more and more.
And this continued for a long time. The dwarves began to dig deeper in their mountain of refuge, further isolating themselves but in their isolation, they believed they had found strength. No more did they need to deal with the elves to get things done. The elves were the cause of their problems, they would say, all the while digging deeper and deeper and stoking the coals of outrage at the elves, and at the elven leader.
As the dwarves descended further and further into their mountain mines, the conditions they lived in continued to get worse. The heat was beginning to become oppressive. Mining opportunities began to dwindle. Food was harder to find. Frustration mounted. Tempers boiled. But they knew who their enemy was, and it was the Elves. The Elves were the source of their problems, the dwarves knew, and so they dug deeper, and stoked the fires of rumor ascribing all sorts of untrue things to the Elves and their leader.
And then, one evening at the darkest part of the darkest night of the year, many leagues below the surface of the earth the dwarves stopped digging. This was the time to decide on their new leaders from among them, to help solve their problems and work with the other races to settle disputes and help them as well. The elven leader would be stepping down, and they would be appointing someone to be in charge of all the other leaders. So the dwarves put down their tools and convened.
Many potential leaders among dwarves were put forward. Dwarven leaders who had proven themselves over time in battle. Dwarven leaders who were experts in their field of mining and craftsmanship. Dwarven leaders experienced in negotiating agreements with other races. And there were many others. They all took turns telling those gathered why they would be the best to represent them and why they would be best to manage the other race's leaders. When all had spoken, it was time for the dwarves to gather and select their new leader.
But down in the deepest part of the mine, a single dwarf had kept working, thinking the meeting to choose a leader pure foolishness. "What point is there to choosing someone, since we're still going to have to deal with the Elves." Clank, went the pick-axe on the stone. "We know the elves have forced us in here, with less ore to mine and less food to find". Thwack. "We need to shut ourselves off from the outside world, and just dig deeper and stop fooling with the world outside of this mountain." Thud. The dwarf stopped at the odd sound. The pick-axe had gone through the stone, and into an abyss of sorts. Crumbling rock fell down into the hole, banging against the sides as they descended. Crack. Thump. Snap. And then silence.
The dwarf was just about to go back to digging at another spot when he thought he heard something. Yes, that's it. A drum. And another one. It was getting louder. Bam, Bam, Bam. The sounds seemed to be coming from the deep. The dwarf approached the hole he made, and felt a new heat, stronger than anything he'd felt before, radiating from the opening.
Back in the assembly, the dwarves were still in conversation about whom to select. No one of the leaders was able to adequately summarize the frustration, the anger, the resentment that they were feeling at those outside. None convinced them that they could keep the other races in check and bring the dwarven race back to former glory. This made the decision very tough. Were all of these leaders out of touch with their concerns? For years, they had been sweating in underground...building their mine, deeper...hotter...stronger. The things they knew about the elves they just knew, largely because everyone else just seemed to know it too, and these leaders were not willing to just say what everyone knew was true. It made making a decision very difficult.
And then, they too started to hear the drum beats. Louder. More frequent. Strong, loud, until it was all anyone could hear. Bam, Bam, Bam. The dwarves were starting to get worried. What was this? The noise seemed to be coming from down below.
Then, all of a sudden, a fiery creature sprang up and out from the walls, breaking through tiny cracks and appearing to those gathered as an amorphous being. "It's a Balrog!" some of the dwarves exclaimed! And it was. It had a whip of fire and it was wrapped in shadow, fire, and darkness.
As the dwarves stared, the Balrog assembled itself into a rough approximation of a slightly taller than normal Dwarf, but with fire atop his head. He spoke with a resounding voice and said "I am the Balrog. I have heard your cries for deliverance from the evil Elves and I am here to deliver you." And the dwarves were fearful.
However, as the Balrog continued, he brought voice to their fears, to their concerns. He voiced their anger and spoke clearly about the victory that he alone could deliver against the Elves, Humans and the other races. As time went by, more and more of the dwarves began to lend him their support...some enthusiastically, and others grudgingly as they saw the direction the assembly was moving in.
By the end of the evening, the dwarves had chosen a new leader. A leader of fire and flame, of roughly dwarven form, brought forth from the depths because the dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. Because in their anger, frustration, and fear they isolated themselves, fed their anger by stoking rumors and lies, and continued to dig and delve into the depths, and in doing so, they unleashed the Balrog. A being of fire, flame and anger. But even more damning than that - they made him not only their leader, but the leader over the other races as well. Soon, his reign would come.
The End.
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