The Svartálfar: and the Elven Watchtowers

June 19th, 2008

JWalt has invited me to a dungeon jam. Indeed!

The Svartálfaheim was breached by corruption within and evil from beyond; the great city began to die, and the Wise Princess Chiria knew of this immediately. She felt it in her blood, and soon afterwards her scouts confirmed what she knew already. Crows circled the craggy land above the fallen city, glades of trees around them began to sicken and die, plumes of dark smoke creeped up from the dirt like an evening mist. She left immediately with her honor guard to visit the survivors.

Upon arrival, she asked the oldest: Who was responsible for this?

The dwarves were proud, even in mourning. They thanked her, but she could not possibly understand.

She shook her head. You do not understand! You are now bekte, the bloodline of a condemned people. It is vital I know who is responsible for this. Please.

But they were silent, and she was left no choice. She raised her sword and declared: I shall be your sovereign. I am now bekte, along with you, and I take responsibility for this grievous crime. This I swear with my life.

Many young dwarves lifted their blades against her, but she regretfully cut them down with a sword made of silver. To make amends, the Wise Princess directed the survivors to build the Watchtowers, which would stand among the Dwarven settlements, beacons of the Elven nation amongst a fallen people.

So it was that Elven adventurers have lived among the dwarves, overseeing the activities of the old families, and removing those who would lead the bekte wayward again. None doubt the adventurers’ loyalty; though it is also said that some seek only to enrich themselves from dwarven knowledge and art, and others seek life among the dwarves as a refuge from the Elven ways, and still others seek out allies for some nefarious purpose. May the Wise Princess preserve us from their aims.

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