(2021-07-03) The War of the Three Hammers

Details

Author:	Alli
Summary:	A few Cobaltians gather to discuss a book about the War of the Three Hammers
Rating:	T for Teen

Chain: Sil's Book Club

You wave at Oranna, passing by her on the way into HQ.
You wave at Bennarin.
Silvestre: Hi Ben!
Silvestre: Are you here for the book club?
Bennarin, whistling quietly to himself through his teeth, turns away from the kegs, startled.
Bennarin: Oh, hey, Sil! Didn't hear you come in. Sneaky.
Silvestre beams at Ben. "I've been -practicing- stealth! Maybe I'm getting better at it!"
Silvestre: How're you doing?
Bennarin: I ain't - uh, I -dinn't- read the -whole- book? That okay? *He shifts his weight awkwardly.*
Silvestre: Oh, yeah, that's fine! I sorta thought we could go through the main bits together.
Bennarin nods, relieved.
Bennarin: I'm good, yeah. You? You want a beer?
Silvestre: Yeah, sure. I'm kinda nervous myself, honestly. I never ran a book club before.
Bennarin: Aw, it's gonna be great. I never been in one, neither.
Oranna walks in looking cheerful, and waves amicably at both Ben and Sil. "Hullo! I'm no' late fer th' book club, am I?"
Silvestre: Nope, not at all! I think we might be still waitin' one more.
Bennarin: Hey, Miz Oranna. You want a beer?
Brannagen: 'Lo there!
Oranna grins at Sil. "I've ne'er been in a club afore a' all…." She turns to look at Bran. "BRAN!"
You wave at Brannagen.
Bennarin waves at Brannagen.
Silvestre: And there he is!
Bennarin: Okay, this's a lot of people. -Who- wants a beer?
Brannagen: Oranna Stormbreaker!
Bennarin sets his own drink down.
Silvestre raises his hand.
Oranna runs the two steps to Bran, and then holds out her arms for a hug. "It's been so long!"
Brannagen gives her a big hug, lifting her off the ground a little.
Brannagen: How's Befound?
Bennarin makes a rueful face at Sil and goes to get -his- beer, at least.
Oranna laughs and makes a small sqeaky sound. "She's doin' righ' well. Happy ta be a bit o' a lap cat, at th' moment, or attemptin' it a' least."
Brannagen: Ach, it warms me heart tae know I had a small part o' bringin' you two t'gether.
Bennarin brings a full tankard back to Sil. "Here y'go."
Silvestre takes it eagerly from Ben with a smile. "Thanks!" he says, then takes a big gulp.
Oranna: Afraid poor Bargrimm dinna realize he was settin' himself up ta ha' th' lass try out curlin' up in his lap when he offered ta brush her. Ye should see her-she's grown a bit since ye last saw her, comin' inta her full adulthood.
Brannagen: Now who's Bargrimm again?
Bennarin picks up his drink again, watching the dwarves with a vague, polite interest.
Oranna: Oh! Tha's righ'! Ach, ye ne'er met him. *she turns very pink* He's a Wildhammer lad, from up north, an' we're, ah, courtin', officially. Ye'll need ta meet him sometime! He's a bit o' a traveler, like ye are. *she grins*
Brannagen: My goodness! Courtin' a Wildhammer! … Isnae that the name of a novel by er… oh I cannae remember.
Oranna: It's so good ta see ye again. We'll need ta catch up sometime, so I can tell ye about all th' places I've been now. *she chuckles* Verra different from th' lass who'd ne'er been outside o' Dun Morogh six months ago.
Brannagen beams at her, then turns to the two humans.
Silvestre takes another drink of his beer, and says, "Well, now I hope y'all will correct me if I get somethin' wrong in the dwarf history. It's a bit daunting to talk about in front of dwarves."
Oranna: Oh, Sil, ye know books, aye? D'ye recall a book called "Courtin' th' Wildhammer?"
Brannagen: Hullo gentlemen! If we've met before I apologize for fergettin' ye. I sometimes forget tae pay attention tae names an' such.
Bennarin: We met, sir, uh, just the once. I dunno that we was introduced. You want a beer?
Brannagen: Aye!
Silvestre: Yeah, we met once! It was like a party, though, and you said you wouldn't remember my name. So no worries!
Brannagen laughs at you.
Bennarin nods and sets his own drink down again. "Miz Oranna? Get you anythin'?"
Brannagen: That does sound like somethin' I'd say, aye.
You bow before Brannagen.
Silvestre: Silvestre, pleased to meet you again.
Brannagen: Silvestre. I'll try harder this time.
Silvestre: Right so, I got some stuff here for props an' stuff.
Brannagen smiles at you.
Silvestre has cleared all the food off the table. In its place is set up a small grey, cloth tent with a small sign attached to the top that says "Ironforge".
Silvestre Around the base of the tent are a few small dwarf figurines with peach-painted skin and blue tattoos carefully detailed on their arms.
Brannagen: Ooooh.
Silvestre has set blankets covering what might be more set pieces on the right and left of the table.
Brannagen: Will ye look a' tha'…
Bennarin goes to get Bran a drink.
Silvestre: So right, for the book club…
Silvestre: I figured we could sorta go through the story and talk about it as we go. And I made, like, a representation, so it could be more like a drama thing than a lecture. Anybody got any questions to start with?
Brannagen: Jus' the name o' the fine lad bringin' me a drink!
Bennarin offers Bran a beer, and then picks up his own from the table again. He eyes Sil's setup admiringly.
Bennarin: Oh, uh, Ben.
Bennarin: I'm Ben, sir.
Brannagen: Thanks, Ben! Good tae see ye.
Oranna looks at the figurines and makes a smol, adorable cooing sound at them. "Oh, those are th' cutest lil' things! Where did ye get these?"
Bennarin: Yeah, you too, sir. *He lifts his beer in salute at Bran.*
Brannagen beams a smile at Ben as he takes the drink, his sea-blue eyes twinkling merrily. He raises his glass and then downs most of it in one go.
Silvestre: Oh, I had Jo make em! I was so glad she was willing to help. And then Nish helped with the… you'll see.
Bennarin does not down his in one go. He looks very impressed by Bran, though.
Brannagen wanders around randomly to the other side of the table.
Silvestre blinks at Bran. "Would you like another one?"
Brannagen: Oh, I still got a bit left here. *He holds it up and sloshes it gently*
Bennarin says to Oranna, "Mizzy's got a shirt like that."
Oranna looks down at her shirt. "Mizzy?"
Silvestre: Jo has too, now that I think on it. She was wearing some reddish one when she was working on the tiny dwarves.
Silvestre: It must be fashionable?
Brannagen moves to yet another side of the table, as though trying to see the display from all sides.
Bennarin: Oh, uh, Izmainy? Miz-mainy? Nice girl, lives here?
Silvestre: Yeah, the priestess. Nice girl.
Oranna: Oh, aye. It's a good one fer wearin' around in th' heat. *she gestures with her head towards Dun Morogh* It can get swelterin' out there, going up inta th' mid-50s and th' like.
Bennarin: It's, yeah, it's a real nice shirt. *He nods gravely at Oranna.*
Oranna tries to wink but only blinks awkwardly with both eyes.
Silvestre: Alright, so maybe I better explain what all's here. I prepared some stuff.
Brannagen: Let's hear it!
Oranna: Thank ye, lad. *she turns to the display again, with a big grin, and slightly pink cheeks*
Silvestre pulls a few note cards out of his pocket, and smiles nervously at the others.
Silvestre: Okay, so. Before the War of the Three Hammers, all the dwarf clans were like friends. And they were all ruled by…
Silvestre carefully slides a finger into a slit in the cloth covering of "Ironforge" and pulls it aside. The interior is separated to a higher and lower layer with a small shelf.
Brannagen peers at it with interest.
Silvestre indicates one on the upper layer, wearing a crown and seated on a throne.
Silvestre: High King Modimus Anvilmar!
Brannagen cheers at you.
Oranna: Awwww, isn't he jus' th' sweetest lil' thing all small like tha'!
Silvestre: Yeah, I thought he looked real regal!
Bennarin: Nice. *Ben nods solemn approval and drinks his beer.*
Silvestre: And all these dwarves round the base are the Wildhammers, seeing as they lived kinda on the outskirts, from what I read.
Oranna grins at Sil, getting closer to the display, but not touching anything.
Brannagen kneels with exaggerated reverence. "Yer majesty."
Brannagen kneels down.
Bennarin grins at Brannagen.
Silvestre gives an over-elaborate bow to the little figure.
Brannagen winks slyly at Bennarin.
Oranna laughs at Bran, and does something that might be very generously by a very kind person called a curtsy.
You laugh.
Silvestre: And in here also, you can see…
Silvestre gestures to the top and bottom, where there are more little dwarf figurines. The ones on the top also have peach-colored skin, but no tattoos. The ones on the bottom are unpainted metal, and their eyes appear to be glowing red.
Brannagen hovers slightly as Oranna attempts to curtsey, as though afraid she might fall down or endanger furniture.
Bennarin leans in to peer dubiously at the red-eyed ones.
Brannagen: Oooooooh.
Brannagen: Those Dark Irons look righ' scary.
Silvestre: So what we got here are the Bronzebeards up top, who lived closest to the High King. And then down below are the Dark Irons.
Silvestre: Oh yeah, they're kinda like the villains in the story. I mean. In history.
Brannagen: You got 'em just righ'.
Bennarin: That's how they look like? They ain- uh, do not look like regular dwarfs.
Oranna: Ah, aye. They always preferred th' deeper reaches o' Ironforge, accordin' ta my grandmother an' mother.
Brannagen: Aye, they look just like tha'. Only a bit larger.
Brannagen winks slyly at Bennarin.
Bennarin: Huh.
Silvestre: The Bronzebeards and the Wildhammers I think look pretty much the same, right?
Silvestre: Only the Wildhammers have the tattoos.
Brannagen: On the whole, Wildhammers are a biiiiit taller an' leaner, but it's subtle.
Oranna: Most are darker, aye, but no' e'ery dark dwarf ye see is a Dark Iron. An' Wildhammers can look a wee bit more…tan, an' almost orange.
Brannagen: Aye, right, though that may be just more sun.
Brannagen: They're always flittin' about in the sky.
Silvestre: Ah, I see.. because of the… oh, we'll get there.
Brannagen: Oh. Righ'. Sorry.
Brannagen: Carry on!
Oranna: But, it can really depend. Fer a long time, e'en though we were always sort o' separate, we did intermarry an' th' like, afore th' War. Jus' no' often.
Brannagen nods at Oranna.
Brannagen: Especially Bronzebeards an' Wildhammers, there's been a bit more… mixin'. But even- well. Ahem. We'll let the lad talk.
Silvestre smiles at Oranna and Bran. "Thanks for bringing it up. I'll look for the slightly taller thing, so I don't mistake anybody in the future."
Oranna turns a little pink for some reason and nods happily at Sil.
Bennarin drinks his beer politely and doesn't say anything, like observing that he cannot tell whether one dwarf is taller than another when he is always looking down at the tops of their heads.
Silvestre: Right so, they were all -kinda- friends, but then when the High King died, there was a civil war.
Brannagen makes a War Face, helpfully.
Silvestre: Which I don't really get, exactly, cause it says the High King had an heir. But then like, even the Bronzebeards wanted to take over?
Silvestre: And they still like the family too, the Anvilmar's are in the Senate.
Bennarin: What? Yeah, so what's - why'n't the heir just get it?
Oranna sighs a little, looking sadly at the little king figurine. "Ah, my mother always said tha' it was long comin'. More ta do with th' clans no' able ta work together anymore than anythin' with th' king, as far as I understood."
Bennarin looks to the dwarves for explanation.
Silvestre: So not like, they didn't think the Anvilmar kid was going to be a good king, but more like, maybe we don't need any High King?
Oranna: "Modimus Anvilmar was good a' keepin' th' pot from boilin' o'er but he ne'er figured out how ta turn down th' heat" as my great-aunt Nettie used ta say.
Silvestre carefully picks up the High King figure, and sets him aside on a nearby barrel.
Bennarin nods thoughtfully at Oranna.
Bennarin: Makes sense, I guess.
Brannagen: Aye, so think o' him like a cork in a bottle.
Oranna does a passable military salute to the dead king on the barrel.
Brannagen: all that pressure buildin up.
Brannagen: minute the cork's gone, well…
Bennarin nods again.
Silvestre: So then we had three contenders for taking over Ironforge.
Silvestre reaches down holds up a tattooed dwarf from the outskirts.
Silvestre tries his best to mimic dwarf speech patterns. "I'm Thane Khardros Wildhammer an' I wan' ta take tha control o' Ironforge from ma Bronzebeard cousins."
Bennarin grins at Sil's accent.
Silvestre sets that one down, and next holds up a peach-colored dwarf from inside the mountain.
Brannagen laughs at you.
Silvestre: "I'm Thane Madoran Bronzebeard an' I was close wit' tha former King. Also, I got a righ' big army. I think I should be in charge."
Silvestre sets down Madoran, and holds up a metallic dwarf.
Brannagen: Ever been tae Loch Modan, an' seen those two great statues along the road?
Bennarin: I'd've voted for the fellow with the tattoos, on account've the tattoos, but a big army's pretty persuasive, got to say.
Silvestre: Yeah, they've both got their strong points!
Bennarin nods at Bran.
Silvestre: And yeah! Those were really impressive.
Brannagen: That's them!
Silvestre: How do you even build something so big?
Brannagen: Madoran Bronzebeard an' Khardros Wildhammer.
Bennarin: What, those two fellows? The tattoos and the army? Nice. I gotta go look again.
Brannagen: Bronzebeard's the one wi' the great big horned helm.
Bennarin nods thoughtfully.
Oranna laughs at Sil's question a little. "Start with a verra big rock."
Brannagen: Aye, watch for it next time!
Brannagen: Aye, those two got carved straight outa the mountain.
Silvestre: When I saw the statues last, I hadn't read the whole story yet. Ben, we should go back and look at 'em sometime!
Brannagen nods at you.
Oranna nods and grins at Bran. "Best way ta do it."
Bennarin nods at Sil happily.
Silvestre grins and Bran and Oranna.
Oranna: Careful though. Those two mark th' start o' the Dark Iron territory. There's a…well, we'll get there. But, there's a reason their sons had them carved there.
Silvestre: Anyway, this last guy hasn't got any statues to remember him by.
Silvestre gestures to the metallic dwarf in his hand. "I'm Sorcerer-Thane Thaurissan, an' I think ya all shoul' be kicked out a' tha mountain. And I got magic ta do it with."
Bennarin: Aw !@#$.
Bennarin: Uh, shoot.
Brannagen laughs at Bennarin.
Bennarin 's language seems more an expression of pleased anticipation than of dismay.
Silvestre grins at Ben. "I get the feeling."
Silvestre: Right, so they fought there.
Silvestre fiddles with something behind "Ironforge" and a series of tiny explosives pop in between the three hosts of dwarves.
Oranna claps at the little fireworks, laughing with delight!
Brannagen: Oooooh.
Bennarin: Aw %^&*! *He doesn't apologize this time, too delighted.*
Silvestre: So in the end, between tattoos, big army and magic… big army won.
Brannagen cheers!
Silvestre: So the Bronzebeard's took over Ironforge.
Brannagen: Damn straight!
Bennarin nods solemnly. Respect.
Oranna nods at the little figurines. "My mother was there, actually, although no' on th' front lines. She was young, maybe 18. She ne'er talked about it much though."
Silvestre blinks at Oranna. "This was like… 250 years ago."
Bennarin: No way.
Brannagen: Dwarves live a long time, lads.
Silvestre: Wow, that's… holy !@#$.
Brannagen: I'm over a hundred meself.
Oranna: Oh, aye. *she blinks at both Sil and Ben* She had me late in life, near 200, but I'm 92.
Silvestre: Yeah, I'm twenty-two, so I guess these things feel a lot further back for me.
Oranna smiles at Sil and reaches out a hand to pat his arm like there, there, human ages, what can you do?
Bennarin nods and gestures at Sil with his drink. "Me too, yeah."
Brannagen: My parents were around as well, but they didnae do much fightin'. They dinnae talk about it much, either.
Brannagen: Brewers, all my lot.
Oranna: It was a pretty fast war, all things considered. But, well…ah. Aye, no' somethin' most folks are proud o', or want ta talk o' much.
Silvestre: Yeah, I hope this isn't bringing up like, sad family memories.
Brannagen: Nae, lad, dinnae worry.
Brannagen beams serenely.
Silvestre smiles gratefully at Bran.
Silvestre: Okay, so the next bit was what happened to the other clans.
Oranna shrugs. "My father wasna e'en born yet, an' it's always jus' been a story ta me, e'en only bein' a generation away from it."
You nod at Oranna.
Silvestre: So right, the Wildhammers went up northeast to Grim Batol, and made a new underground fortress city.
Silvestre pulls off the blanket to the right, revealing another grey tent-mountain labeled "Grim Batol". He pulls out a small controller and hits a button, and the Wildhammer dwarves march stiffly over to it.
Bennarin: WHOA. Uh, whoa.
Brannagen cheers!
Oranna gasps at the little figurines, obviously barely restraining clapping again, with a HUGE smile.
Silvestre: Yeah, sorta like Ironforge, maybe? I've never been there.
Brannagen: Ye would not wanna go there now, fer sure.
Oranna: Ah, it's…no' safe anymore, but I've heard it's interestin'.
Brannagen: But I'm gettin' ahead o' ye.
Silvestre blushes a little at the reaction, and smiles widely.
Silvestre: Ah yeah, that's in the story.
Oranna nods at Sil, looking at the little figurines with pink cheeks and a bright smile on her face.
Silvestre: And last, the Dark Irons went south to the Redridge Mountains."
Brannagen: Curse the lot of 'em…
Silvestre pulls off the blanket on the left, revealing an orange-colored tent-mountain, labeled "Redridge". Oddly, there's a hole in the top of this one.
Bennarin: Redridge? Huh. I ain't seen 'em.
Silvestre presses another button on the controller, and the little grey dwarves march away from "Ironforge" and over to "Redridge"
Oranna looks down a little sadly at the little figurines, her eyes soft and a little sad. "No, ye wouldna, no'…well."
Silvestre: And the Wildhammers did okay up in their new place, but the Dark Irons were just mad about everything. Thaurissan named a city after himself, so he was clearly kind of full of it. His wife was a sorceress too, named Modgud.
Brannagen: Curse her name…
Silvestre nods vigorously.
Bennarin furrows his brow.
Silvestre: So at this point, I think all was goin' well, and the Wildhammer and Bronzebeards were maybe like friends again, since they weren't fightin' over the same mountain anymore.
Oranna: She was…well. It was probably best tha' she wasna in charge from th' start. I think things migh' ha' gone differently, if she had been. Dangerous woman. My aunt always liked her, an' no one Aunt Zin liked was…someone ye'd want ta be around.
Bennarin nods slowly at Bran.
Silvestre: She did sound… pretty powerful.
Silvestre: I guess people can make that be a good thing or a bad thing.
Oranna nods in agreement, looking at the Dark Iron figurines, and sighing a little.
Silvestre: So then next, the Dark Irons decided to attack -both clans- at the same time.
Bennarin gives a low, disapproving whistle.
Silvestre picks up the Thaurissan figure. "I'm goin' ta go attack Ironforge, on account o' it went so well las' time. Now the Bronzebeard's are established an' aren't fightin' a second enemy, we'll do better. For some reason!"
Bennarin snorts.
Silvestre: Like seriously, I don't get why they thought splitting their forces and attacking both was a good idea.
Oranna laughs a little at Sil's way of putting it, but tilts her head back and forth as though can't argue that explanation at all.
Silvestre sets down the little dwarf, and presses a button on his controller. Roughly half of the little metallic figures march on Ironforge, together with Thaurissan. Another button press causes the small pops of explosives around the Ironforge display.
Silvestre: "So obviously, Madoran Bronzebeard and his folks won. I don't really get why Thaurissan thought it would go the other way?"
Oranna laughs with pure delight, her face lighting up almost as bright as the fireworks.
Silvestre presses a controller button, sending Thaurissan and his forces back to Thaurissan city.
Brannagen looks mesmerized by the display.
Silvestre: Of course that was half of it. The other half was Modgud taking her forces up to Grim Batol. She did have more tricks up her sleeve, so that was kind of a closer thing.
Brannagen: Bloody nightmare is wot it was.
Silvestre He holds up the little Modgud dwarf, and says "I got shadow powers, and all those dwarf warriors goin' to fear when the stone fortress is all full o' terrifyin' evil creatures."
Oranna nods seriously. "I heard she…did somethin' ta th' shadows there, aye. It's wha' makes it so dangerous ta go there, e'en now."
Silvestre he sets her down and, with another button press, sends her and her forces marching all the way across the table to Grim Batol.
Bennarin mouths 'oh %^&*,' again, grimly.
Silvestre: Yeah, in the book it said that was why the Wildhammers didn't want to live underground anymore.
Silvestre: 'Cause of what she did to Grim Batol, and living through that.
Brannagen just mumbles, "Bloody nightmare," again, and makes a sign of the Light.
Oranna: It's a shame, really. Wildhammers ha' some interestin' ideas about stonework, but, it would turn yer stomach ta be trapped inside with things like tha', aye.
Oranna looks down, rubbing her arm a little, looking a little pale.
Silvestre: So yeah, that's why people don't go there anymore, I think? Because the shadows are still there?
Oranna nods grimly.
Silvestre: Even now, hundreds of years later.
Brannagen: Horde bred dragons there fer a bit.
Silvestre looks at Oranna. "You okay? That part's just about done."
Silvestre frowns at Bran. "Why would you want to breed dragons there?"
Bennarin shifts his weight, looking stern.
Oranna looks up a little surprised, and pushes a smile onto her face. "I'm fine. Jus' rememberin' when my brothers went once. I've ne'er been, myself."
Brannagen: They were usin' em as mounts durin' the second war.
Brannagen: Had the dragon queen held with Dark Iron chains down there.
Bennarin grimaces at Brannagen.
Silvestre: Oh gosh. That sounds cruel, even to a dragon.
Brannagen: Aye. When she got freed, some o' her kin went back to keep people out from then on.
Brannagen: You'll still see 'em guardin' the place, if ye try an' get close.
Silvestre: Noted. Don't go to the shadowy place guarded by dragons. I think I'll remember.
Oranna: Oh, aye, Alexstrasza. They werena unfriendly, accordin' ta th' books on them, afore tha'.
Bennarin smiles wryly at Sil.
Brannagen: Dragons ha' never been exactly -friendly,- but aye, they ne'er went to war with us until the orcs made their queen a slave.
Oranna: Aye, neutral like. Now….jus'…give them a wide berth, aye?
Silvestre: Yeah. *Sil shivers*
Brannagen: Aye. Very dangerous, all kinds an' colors of 'em.
Silvestre: Back then, though, I don't think they had any dragons. This one was a rough battle, and it kinda looked like Khardros might lose it for a while. But then he personally went in battle and killed Modgud.
Bennarin nods relief.
Bennarin: Tattoos.
Silvestre presses a button that makes little fighting lights around Grim Batol.
Oranna giggles at the mention of tattoos, for some reason, and turns a little pink, but she keeps her eyes on the display.
Brannagen: I heard her final words were, "…You promised"
Silvestre: Yeah, tattoos beat magic!
Brannagen: No one knows what she meant.
Bennarin peers at Brannagen with interest.
Silvestre looks thoughtful. "Blighting a place for hundreds of years doesn't seem like normal magic, does it? Could she have been in league with somebody?"
Brannagen: Sounds like it, aye?
Silvestre: Like the Legion?
Bennarin whistles again.
Brannagen: Or Old Gods…
Oranna nods at Sil. "A lot o' people think so, or somethin' worse, aye."
Bennarin: Old Gods? Damn.
Silvestre: -Worse- than the Legion? *Sil looks a little worried*
Brannagen: They lived in the deep, deep places.
Brannagen: Stands tae reason if the Old Gods were gonna whisper tae anyone it'd be the Dark Irons.
Oranna: An' dwarves are good a' diggin' deep, Dark Irons more so than th' rest o' us, aye.
Silvestre: I guess we can all be happy they didn't give her what they promised.
Brannagen: Aye!
Bennarin shudders happily, like a kid hearing a campfire story.
Silvestre: "So next, the rest of the army fled back toward Thaurissan. But! They forgot the Bronzebeards and the Wildhammers were actually friends."
Brannagen smiles affectionately at Ben.
Silvestre presses a controller button to send the Dark Irons marching to a point midway between Grim Batol and Ironforge.
Silvestre: The Wildhammers chased 'em, but then also the Bronzebeards came to block them off!
Brannagen cheers!
Silvestre presses another button. The Bronzebeards move out of Ironforge, directly into the path of the Dark Irons. The Wildhammers advance behind them from Grim Batol.
Bennarin: Aw yeah.
Brannagen: Here's tae friendship. *He lifts his glass, which he has until now forgotten he was holding, and drains the rest of it.*
Silvestre: So those Dark Irons were pretty well screwed!
Brannagen cheers!
Silvestre sweeps the Dark Irons off the table, and they clatter to the floor.
Oranna smiles affectionately at the Wildhammer figurines, and lights up with a brilliant smile at the fireworks.
Brannagen stomps on one gently.
You laugh at Brannagen.
Bennarin grins at Bran.
Silvestre: So you'd think that'd be the end of it, but there's still a little more.
Brannagen: An' then a GIANT Bronzebeard dwarf with flamin- red hair… oh wait, tha's not how th'story goes.
Brannagen grins and paces to the other side of the table.
Oranna looks a little sadly at the Dark Irons, but smiles at Bran's little Giant Bronzebeard comment.
Silvestre: A time-traveling Bran appeared? *Sil laughs happily*
Brannagen cheers!
Brannagen: All the best heroes time travel!
Silvestre: So Thaurissan was still alive at Thaurissan city with his team, and he was real messed up that Khardros killed his wife.
Oranna: Ach, now, now, we're no' meant ta be meddlin' with th' time-line, causin' all manner o' retcons.
Brannagen: Maybe his wife shouldnae have tried tae curse an entire city.
Silvestre: Yeah, no shi- seriously, yeah.
Brannagen laughs at you.
Silvestre: And Khardros and Madoran were like, "These Dark Irons are nothin' but trouble! We'd best deal with 'em now for all time!"
Brannagen: If only…
Silvestre: So all the forces marched on Thaurissan city.
Silvestre presses another button, sending all the non-Dark Irons marching towards Redridge.
Silvestre: Thaurissan, though, like wanted to do the same thing his wife did, I reckon. Except the dying part. So he did this whole big ritual to summon up a supernatural minion to kill all the other dwarves.
Bennarin leans in to watch the movement of the mechanical dwarves, mesmerized.
Brannagen lets out a HUGE sigh.
Brannagen: This is why we learn history, lads. So we don't do dumb !@#$e like tha'.
Silvestre: Because what happened next was…
Bennarin grins again at Bran.
Silvestre steps behind Redridge, and presses a button. The top erupts into a flame, which keeps burning.
Brannagen cheers at you.
Oranna nods solemnly, giving Bran's words the weight they deserve.
Bennarin: -Whoa-.
Silvestre: He kinda messed that plan up, though, cause it wasn't some minion or anything. He summoned up Ragnaros the Firelord, the immortal Lord of all fire elementals! Ragnaros didn't really give a flip about any Bronzebeards or Wildhammers.
Silvestre: He wrecked the mountain and turned it into a volcano - Blackrock Mountain, we call it now. And instead of fighting his war, Ragnaros killed Thaurissan and enslaved all the Dark Irons.
Silvestre: So yeah, not really to plan.
Oranna: Aye, an' tha's why ye dinna see th' Dark Irons in Redridge, lad.
Silvestre: Yeah, all in Blackrock Mountain, still enslaved I guess.
Silvestre: Well, I say all, but up in Wetlands…
Brannagen: Who coulda ferseen such an outcome. Oh right, anyone not utterly out o' his gourd.
Bennarin: Oh, -damn-.
Bennarin: I mean, kinda deserved it though, yeah?
Silvestre: Yeah, I'm not sure how that situation looked like a win.
Oranna: An' why things are different tha' way now, with th' Burnin' Steppes. Ye dinna e'er want ta make it all th' way inta Shadowforge.
Brannagen: Let's summon the lord of all fire elementals, I'm sure he'll be innerested in our petty family squabbles.
Silvestre: Like he's going to summon something powerful enough to destroy two armies, and it's going to listen to him?
Brannagen laughs.
Oranna: But…no' e'ery Dark Iron would ha' thought tha' it was righ' ta do. It's…well, it's a shame tha' they all were punished fer Thaurissan's mistakes.
Brannagen: Dark Irons… *he shrugs pointedly.*
Silvestre: There's got to be some who were just trying to live their lives, not fighting any war.
Silvestre: And then -boom- Firelord slaves.
Brannagen: They made the mistake o' followin' Thaurissan.
Brannagen: They knew what he'd already done an' just kept right on marchin tae his orders.
Oranna nods sadly. "Aye, well, sometimes ye follow yer family places jus' because they're yer family, e'en if ye think they're wrong."
Silvestre: Do you think they would've been welcome in Ironforge? Or in Grim Batol? I mean, after the civil war, but before the attack.
Bennarin drinks his beer and reserves his judgment. His gaze flicks approvingly toward Bran, though.
Brannagen: I couldnae say. I know fer -my- part, if any Dark Iron came tae me sayin, "Help, me emperor's a nutbag," I'd 'ave tried tae help.
Oranna: It's hard ta say. There's been bad blood between Dark Irons an' th' rest o' th' clans fer a long time, but…well. We're still all dwarves, in th' end. Still part o' a larger clan. Maybe someday…*she sighs and shrugs*
Brannagen: I don't fault a man fer what he's born, but I will absolutely fault him fer who he chooses tae folla.
Bennarin points with his drink at Bran.
Bennarin: That. Yeah.
Silvestre: Yeah, I don't know. I reckon a lot of people would see a Dark Iron and see an enemy, even if they tried to be different.
Brannagen: If King Magni ever starts rantin' about wipin' a whole peaceful city off the map I will stop callin' meself a Bronzebeard fast as ye can blink.
Oranna: Aye, but ye ha' ta be careful ta no' make someone feel they've got no other choices left. Tha' they canna leave e'en if they wanted ta, because of who their family was.
Brannagen: They do look a bit… distinct, tha' strue.
Brannagen: But when I smite a Dark Iron it ain't fer his scary red eyes, it's usually on account of he's tryin' tae blow me up.
Brannagen: If I saw one just walkin' toward me hands up, no weapons, I'd talk.
Oranna: Some Dark Irons livin' now would be our ages, an' had nothin' ta do with th' war or wantin' ta follow Thaurissan a' all. An' so used ta thinkin' o' us as th' enemy…well.
Brannagen: I'm used tae thinkin' of em as the enemy, too, but I dinnae go intae their territory settin' explosives.
Oranna nods at Bran with a smile. "It's hard ta get any o' them ta jus'…stop fer a moment, aye. Maybe with more time…"
Silvestre: Yeah, it's rough that they look so different. Might be harder to cross the line.
Brannagen: Who knows what the future holds, though, aye.
Brannagen: I'd welcome peace if there were half a chance at it. The Light doesnae want us all killin' each other over old grudges.
Silvestre: Yeah, maybe somebody'll beat Ragnaros someday, and then they can be evil or friendly or whatever they want.
Brannagen: That'd be a tale!
Brannagen: Imagine defeatin' the king o' the fire elementals.
Brannagen: That'll be a history book for some future book club.
Oranna: If e'eryone always assumes yer evil, it's hard ta think o' tryin' ta be better. But, aye, I think someone would need ta see them freed first afore we could make any inroads there.
Silvestre: Yeah! I think that's a bit past a dagger fight, but maybe like an army or something could do it.
Oranna laughs at Bran at that. "We could ha' one o' th' mages make a fire dragon fer tha' book club meeting!"
Brannagen laughs at Oranna.
Silvestre: Oh wow! That would be AWESOME!
Brannagen: Dark Iron could do tha' I bet.
Brannagen: They're reeeeeal good with fire magic.
Silvestre: That kinda wraps up the war. The Bronzebeards and the Wildhammers weren't looking to fight Ragnaros the Firelord, so they left.
Oranna nods with a hopeful smile.
Brannagen chuckles at Sil's summary.
Silvestre: And of course, Ragnaros didn't chase them, because why would he?
Brannagen: Aye, aye.
Oranna: Aye, my mother said it was a bitter an' fast retreat, but none followed them.
Silvestre: The rest, we kinda know - the Bronzebeards stayed here, and it's still a great city.
Silvestre: The Wildhammers went back to Grim Batol, but it was all kinds of screwed up still from the shadow magic. So they went to Hinterlands and founded Aerie Peak outside and rode gryphons.
Brannagen: I never put taegether why they stopped living underground, but it makes sense, when ye look at it all taegether like tha'.
Bennarin nods thoughtfully.
Oranna smiles brightly at Sil. "It is a verra nice city." She turns to Bran with an excited grin. "My an' Bargrimm will be goin' there soon, ta Aerie Peak. Ha' ye been, Bran?"
Silvestre: It did say the Bronzebeards invited 'em back to Ironforge, but the Wildhammers were really just wanting to live in the open air.
Brannagen: Makes sense, aye. *He turns to Oranna* Not yet, lass, but one day soon.
Bennarin: Can't blame 'em, if the underground was full of shadows n' whispers n' %^&* last time they was there.
Brannagen nods at Bennarin.
You nod at Bennarin.
Oranna: Aye, an' it's like tha' Khardros an' Madoran knew tha' their peace would break if Khardros had ta live under Bronzebeard rule, an' jus' start another war eventually.
Brannagen nods at Oranna.
Silvestre: Yeah, that'd be rough, after they were all friends again and everything.
Brannagen: Some family jus'… do better with some distance between. Heh.
Silvestre: The rest of the story was the monuments. They made that bridge up north at Wetlands, to keep connected I guess.
Oranna: They made some sort o' vow ta ne'er figh' again, like brothers, but aye, they knew tha' they'd keep it if they were no' in one mountain together.
Brannagen: And o' course the Dark Irons blew it up.
Bennarin shakes his head dourly.
Silvestre: Yeah, I heard some of the company were fighting them up there.
Brannagen: Oh aye? I really need tae pay better attention tae the Company's doin's.
Oranna sighs a little, and nods. "I dinna know wha' they ha' against bridges an' dams, but aye. We were up there, an' they were makin' another attempt a' it."
Brannagen: I'm not much of a fighter, but I'm hopin tae apprentice with that alchemist they got.
Silvestre: Is that like a fire elemental thing? Just being really into destroying stuff?
Brannagen: Likely!
Silvestre: With Niris?
Brannagen: Aye, tha's right, tha's her name
Bennarin: Aunt Nir?
Bennarin blinks at Bran.
Brannagen: I sent her a letter, but I may ha' gotten the address wrong, or else she's real busy.
Brannagen: She's yer aunt?
Brannagen beams at Ben.
Bennarin: Aw, she's - uh, busy these days. Some. Yeah. And yeah, she's my aunt. Lives here in the city. Live. We do, I mean.
Brannagen: Well tell 'er I'm brilliant an' pleasant an' all that sort o' thing, will ye?
Bennarin grins at him.
Brannagen grins wickedly at Bennarin.
Bennarin: Yessir.
Silvestre: Book Club! Making connections!
Brannagen cheers at you.
You laugh.
Bennarin raises his now-empty drink to Sil, and then goes to refill it.
Oranna laughs a little, and reaches out a hand to touch Bran's shoulder. "An' Bargrimm an' I are havin' Ben an' Niris o'er tomorrow, an' I can mention yer name, too."
Brannagen: That'd be real nice.
Brannagen: Thank ye, lass.
Bennarin: Best book club I ever been in, Sil.
Oranna: Where are ye stayin' these days? Still o'er in Loch Modan?
Silvestre finishes off his own beer, and sighs happily.
Brannagen pats Oranna's shoulder.
Brannagen: Oh, Menethil mostly these days.
Brannagen: I wander a bit though.
Silvestre beams at Ben,
Oranna nods at Bran and smiles, before looking back over to Sil. "Lad, this may be th' first book club I've been in, but I canna imagine a better one."
Silvestre refills his own beer glass.
Brannagen: I have been in three book clubs, an' this one's better'n all three.
Bennarin: Shame Mizzy couldn't come. Bet she'd've liked them little dwarfs, n' the fireworks.
Oranna laughs. "I think all book clubs should ha' some wee little explosions."
Silvestre: There were loads of other books in the Explorer's Hall too. I hope we can do this again sometime!
Brannagen: The romance book club was pretty good until everyone started pairin' off instead o' readin'… hehehehe.
Silvestre looks at Bran with pleased surprise, at the praise.
Silvestre: I guess when you get people in a certain mood…
Brannagen: Ye did a fine job, lad, an' thanks fer remindin' me about it.
Brannagen: I'd forgotten, o' course.
Brannagen: An you, Ben, right? What is it ye do fer the company? Are ye an alchemist, like yer aunt?
Bennarin: Oh, no sir, I'm a blacksmith. Well, journeyman blacksmith. Mos'ly I fight.
Brannagen: Oh well if ye ever need a healer send me a note!
Oranna is looking at the little Wildhammer figurines, examining their tiny tattoos with clear delight.
Bennarin: Sword an' shield style. I can take a kickin' - but, yessir, a healer would be real nice sometimes.
Brannagen: All righ' if the lass keeps one o' those, Silvestre?
Silvestre smiles at Oranna, proud of the work that was clearly done by someone else.
Silvestre: Oh yeah, sure! I bet Jo'd be happy you like 'em.
Oranna looks up in surprise. "Oh, no! I…I wouldna want ta take one, especially if they migh' be used fer another meetin', they're jus'…" She giggles a little, going a little pink. "They're jus' so cute."
Brannagen writes his name on a scrap of paper for Ben. "Here ye go, it can be a bit hard fer folks tae spell."
Bennarin: Aw, anything's hard for me to spell. *Ben grins lopsidedly, and pockets the paper.* Thanks.
Brannagen: Send to the Deepwater Tavern in Menethil an' they'll find me.
Silvestre: I think we can spare one. I hope we can do more dwarf stories next time, but I'm sure Jo can make more.
Brannagen: Well, I'm off, ye lovelies! Take good care!
Bennarin: G'night, sir.
You wave at Brannagen.
Oranna: Well, ah, then maybe I'll jus' take a one, an' bring it with me if there'll be another demonstration?
Silvestre: Thanks for coming, Bran!
Oranna waves to Bran
Silvestre: Yeah, that'd be great.
Oranna picks a Wildhammer with bright red hair for some reason, and holds it up to her face, looking at it like it's the most delightful thing in the world.
Bennarin drains his second beer considerably faster than the first.
Bennarin: I better get goin', too. You need a hand cleaning up, Sil?
Silvestre: Thanks fo rhte offer, but I've got it.
Bennarin: Okay. Well, lemme know if you wanna hang out or get some work done together again or somethin', okay?
Silvestre: Thanks to both of you for coming!
Oranna holds the little figurine close and grins. "Thank ye fer doin' all this, Sil. I've got ta go show Bargrimm th' wee lil' thing, but I'll be seein' ye both soon, aye?"
Bennarin: Hey, thanks for havin'.
Oranna waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!
Bennarin: G'night, Miz Oranna.
Silvestre: Yeah, I will. We made a good team back in Westfall, with Mizzy.
You wave at Oranna.
Bennarin grins at Silvestre.
Bennarin: Hell yeah. Okay, I'm gonna head out, though.
Silvestre: See you soon, Oranna!
Silvestre: Alright, see you later!
Bennarin claps Sil on the shoulder as he passes.
Silvestre sets about picking up the pieces of the presentation with a relaxed, satisfied air.