“Where is that?”
“Hundreds of miles south of here. Why are you still here among the ruins of Khazduroth when everyone thinks you are dead?”
“We kept the faith,” said Guttri proudly. “When all fell into chaos and war we kept the faith.”
“What does that mean?”
“It is easier to show you, which I will in time.”
“It seems to me that I am answering your questions and you are not answering mine,” said Kormak.
“Be assured that I will. And now I will try harder to answer your first question. We are here because this is our home. It has always been our home. We built this city for the Eldrim but it was really our place. Our masters came and they went. They had palaces on mountain peaks and beneath the waves and amid the snows. They came here to meet and play politics, to commission new devices. We lived here, beneath their notice save when they wanted something. We recorded their deeds and contracts. We built the engines they required. We maintained their homes. We were their first, best and best-loved servants. Or so we thought.”
Karnea was watching wide-eyed. Kormak guessed she had never heard such plain speaking from a dwarf before.
“The Old Ones turned against you?” Karnea asked.
“They did, but they turned against each other first.”
“What do you mean?”
“There were those among the Eldrim who sought power over the others. They came to the elders of the clans and had them forge, in secret, the first of those dreadful blades, the like of which you carry.”
“They wanted weapons that could easily kill the other Old Ones?” Kormak asked. “I thought that was forbidden.”
“I would wager that it is forbidden for one of your people to murder another and I would also wager it still happens.”
“It is no wonder they wanted it done in secret. A group armed with such weapons would be able to dominate all the other Old Ones,” said Karnea.
“Only until the others armed themselves similarly,” said Kormak. “And the Old Ones have all the time in the world.”
“The weapons were made and the weapons were used, and we were blamed for it,” said Guttri. “Eldrim killed Eldrim and as they did so, a terrible secret was revealed. Those who wielded those first weapons were pacted with the Shadow. They slew indiscriminately, took revenge on their enemies, made war on each other. But, in the end, it went as you suspected...” he nodded to Kormak. “The weapons fell into the hands of their enemies. Deaths multiplied. The City in the Deeps was abandoned by most of the Eldrim. They came only seeking weapons and in secret and they made the most dire threats. We could not but do what they wanted. Some of our folk fell into evil ways. Some tried to remain neutral. Some refused to serve the Shadow but who can know whether they did or not? Evil does not always come wearing an evil face.
“The war raged for centuries. The realms of the Old Ones were in chaos. All were suspicious of each other. None knew who secretly followed the Shadow. Rumours reached us of dark and terrible things occurring across the world, but we remained in our city and did as we always had. We obeyed. And then it happened... we were betrayed by our masters. They cursed us with a terrible plague.”
“Why?”
“Other servitor races were rebelling. They did not want the secret of the making of forbidden weapons to be unleashed in the world. To be given to their enemies.”
“They cursed you?” Karnea said. “That is terrible.”
“The Old Ones think in terms of millennia,” said Kormak.
“They cursed us and we died,” said Guttri. “During the plagues we died in the tens of thousands. Husbands died in their wives arms. Children died weeping for succour from the gods who had abandoned us.
“The Plague did not kill all of us though. It is the nature of such things that some survive and are immune and their children are immune. When that failed, another curse was laid upon us. This curse altered the Underlings who had been our servants as we were the servants of the Eldrim. They mutated, became fierce and cunning and disobedient. They bred quickly. They fell to the Shadow and became fearsome foes, haunting the city they had helped us carve from the bones of the earth. They became stunted, misshapen things.”
“Goblins,” Karnea said. She nodded her head.
“The followers of Graghur,” said Guttri. “The ones you fought.”
“They are the descendants of your servants,” said Karnea. Her voice was hushed. Her hand had formed a grip on an imaginary pen.
“They have descended a long way from what they were. Once they were gentle creatures, passive, bred for labour and for obedience. The plagues changed them, almost as if that was the intent.” The old dwarf looked at his hulking tattooed barbarous companions and then looked ironically at the statue of a noble civilised dwarf that occupied an alcove above him. “They changed us too. The few that survived. Some of our people found terrible rage in their hearts. Some swore to the Shadow and were saved and vanished. Some slid away, seeking sanctuary elsewhere, hoping to find a refuge. One clan of smiths broke into the forbidden armouries and took a cache of weapons. We thought them slain in the Long Dying but their mark is upon your blade. I am guessing they still seek revenge on our masters.”