One war. Two Sisters. One end.
There is no running from it. Fate shall have its way as both daughters of Stormband take to the field of battle. Each with one goal - vengeance.
Approximately 130k words.
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When the question is asked, 'Who is behind this?' the answer is always the same. A dwarf.
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Taught ropes drawn back by the hands of a contingent of hearty dwarven sailors, male and female alike, inched them ever closer to their goal. Sails stowed, each heave from their assigned stations upon the deck of The Great Dragon closed the final few feet to the awaiting dock.
Like the tales of the god Diur, the vessel looked like a mighty celestial beast upon the waves. Fighting against both chaos and order while seeking balance.
The sea seemed to protest against the ship's ultimate arrival, pushing against the wooden hull. Painted gray like the scales of her divine namesake, the resistance was enough that manual labor was necessary to assist the normally sufficient design of the intricate docking propellers dwarven engineers had perfected long ago.
The mechanisms strained while they churned and hummed above the waves crashing on the not too distant sea walls a thousand feet further out. The massive rocks provided only a minor respite from the froth boiled up and signaling the pending of a severe springtime storm. The furor of which had been felt in five-hundred years.
Awaiting her and her cargo, an eager contingent of squat, armored forms stood at strict attention. In the center of them all was one dwarf who held himself apart in his appearance, but not in his rigid posture. Based upon his iron crown and voluminous robes of matching gray, his importance among his fellow dwarfs was something that could never be in doubt.
His braided beard was unlike any the others displayed. While the facial hair of each of his kinsmen who accompanied the king was indeed impressive, his was majestic beyond compare. Filled with perfect knots and laced through beads of every conceivable precious metal that could be forged, it was a veritable work of art that refused to be swayed by the tumultuous breeze under a darkening sky.
Will a final, unified pull and accompanying grunt, the crew of the ship snugged the vessel against protective bumpers of rubber that had vulcanized to provide a cushion between it and the dock.
