Early into the year 979 AF, a tremor of a not so distant eruption brought further damage along the western coast. Earthquakes rippled along Sapience, from Ka'doloki to Saoghal Valley. In the mountain village of Inbhir Ness, they fared no better with a sinkhole swiftly opening, swallowing a field of potatoes much to the anger of a dwarven farmer.

Loss of field space however, gained something incredible. Many many years ago, the village of Inbhir Ness, was an underground settlement, rich from mining the mountain. Much like the present however, earthquakes struck, causing much confusion and damage. On that dark day, those who could fled the village to the surface and those who couldn't, perished. And now, as if in reverse, Old Inbhir was revealed once more! Just a single rock in the way, a single large, immovable rock.

With much excitement, Chief Rhorg sent out messages to all dwarven clans of Sapience, declaring a Deep Council in two months time, hoping that they would answer the call. And answer him they did.

Five representatives of five clans ventured north. Thulgrim, of Clan Orcsplitter. Brunde, of Clan Argent Hand. Baldric, of Clan Boulderscorch, Kaira, of Clan Fiania, and Galder, of Clan Shattered Stone. Sat around Rhorg's table in his cramped home, the dwarves spoke of Old Inbhir, of how it was once the jewel of the north. How trade routes would re-open once more and gold would flow. A singular topic stood out of key importance before all else however. A Ceremonial Hammer. The crux of the village. After more ale, frequent bubble making by Baldric's goose-shaped pipe, and the promised assistance of the cities of Sapience, a plan was made. The first city to find the hammer would recieve a boon from Chief Rhorg, a token of appreciation.

Copious amount of ale later, and an obsession with ogres, Thulgrim made slow but steady progress chipping away at the rock until the time came for everyone to venture down into old Inbhir. Six groups, and six paths from the centre of the ruins of the village. The goal? A hammer-shaped key that was said to open the doors to the village abbey where the hammer was likely held. With the rock pushed to one side, everyone sprinted forward. To the Amethyst Mines. To the Stone Chorus. To the Lava Crucible, and more. Following the instructions of ghost of a dwarven conductor in the Stone Chorus, Mhaldor was first to find a key after performing an old song complete with instrumental backing, but could not find the abbey or unlock its doors in time. Hashan however, did find the abbey, and with key in hand Nezaya was the first to open the doors.

Never as simple as picking up the hammer and declaring a job done, one last obstacle stood in the gathered's way:

Dhorg, the Domed.

A self-proclaimed chieftain of goblins taken up residence in the ruins, the once Ceremonial Hammer was now a twisted crown perched upon his bald dome. Defiant of the intruders to his home, he met a swift end as soon as he dared shout for his guards.

With depair filling Chief Rhorg's eyes, the steely resolve so famous to that of the dwarven race rose up to fight back the loss of hope. A shake of his head and the Inbhir Ness Chief brought the crown to the anvil at the back of the abbey.

With the forge fired, the metal glowed a dull red. Curiously, the forge erupted with light, steam hissing from the walls and the ground vibrating. From within the haze, a shape formed. A tall broad figure with flames and sparks dancing at His silhouette. Slowly but surely, the figure begun to hammer at the crown, facing away from the crowd. Slowly He worked, shaping the crown into a new hammer. Once complete, He turned.

Hearing the despair of His children, and watching their resilience once more in the face of defeat, Phaestus, the Smith, returned His attention to Sapience once more.

~ ~ ~

Summary: The ruins of the Original Inbhir Ness was exposed after a sinkhole opened up following an earthquake. After a Deep Council of dwarves and an expedition within to find a lost Ceremonial Hammer, despair at its destruction brought the attention of Phaestus, The Smith to Sapience once more.


Penned by My hand on the 5th of Phaestian, in the year 979 AF.