Part Two: The Vault
Mórin stood on the elevation near the centre of the main cavern, commanding his people with loud words and encouraging them with his charisma, one he's always been known for, one that made him the leader , the king of dwarvenkin.
"Ye saif now 'lest ye lazy! Pull'em ropes thar, Kimli! Stand stroight wit'at pillar ye oafs!" - Mórin was short even for a dwarf, one of his legs even shorter than the other and was practically blind to his left eye he always kept in a direction away from whoever he was speaking to, making it difficult to fathom who that was , when his troops were standing in a line.
He had a rowdy voice , even deep by dwarven standards and a silvery beard so well kept and impressive that even the elders envied him for that secretly. A huge nose and some missing teeth, missing his left ear he claimed to have lost to a dire giant and six fingers on his left hand.
His people knew that he was determined to lead them as a just king , yet with an iron hand, and were often grumbling against his decisions but they seemed to abide by his law well , regardless.
That day he decided to start digging, to go deeper and to find treasures he decided to surely exist within the countless caved in tunnels of his new kingdom. They dug and dug for days , finding a few metal and gem veins , but they wanted more. As they went deeper and deeper, the more restless were they, their dreams speaking of riches beyond their previous experience. Something was luring them from the depths and indeed , at an underground crossing they opened, they found an ornate door with more signs showing death and suffering than a sane man would've needed to understand the clear words scribed in with ancient runes.
"I ain't fer enterin' , Mórin" - stated an old warrior plainly, meeting resistance from the younger ones finally convincing the king to open it regardless. So , they did.
Mórin turned to a younger , surprisingly slim dwarf wielding a short sword and wearing a leather armour. " Kusur, yer's be loight on yer feet, in ye go lad an' give word o' yer findin's." - Kusur Hafunsen replied only with a nod and slipped in through the narrow gap between the heavy double doors of the unknown, into the darkness. Soon they heard a scream for help and then when the echos finally settled in the chasm behind them, all they heard was their own hearts beating ten times a second, and tense, troubled silence. The young ones stood back with horror , calling the name of their friend , with no luck for an answer.
"Yer 'ave 'neh other ideas lads?!" - growled the older warrior at the rest in rightful fury and glanced at Morin who grasped at his trusty axe with both hands and was gazing upon the ornate gate, and the signs.
"Mórin?" - he asked stepping up to the king, putting a hand on his left shoulder.
"Ye lads do what ye moight." - He stated determinedly
"What's be yer plan, king?" - asked the old dwarf
"I's be goin' in." - He said, and kicked the huge metal gate's left half, making it fall inside with a loud crumble, and then he walked across its rugged surface, soon disappearing in the darkness of the vault.
_________________ "There is no Sparta. THIS. IS. SPOON!!"
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