Laith and Grenwyn had tracked the girls for 3 days straight now, resting only when absolutely necessary. This night, they knew they had to rest, they were making progress so slowly now, that sleeping a few hours and then re-embarking would be more expedient. They laid down next to the campfire, but though completely exhausted, neither man could find rest. “Your hammer,” Laith said, breaking their long silence “I have never seen it’s like before, and if I don’t make it through this alive, I would be saddened not to know the story of such a fine weapon.” Grenwyn smirked ruefully at the comment. It was indeed a fine weapon, one requiring the finest of dwarven craftsmanship. One dwarf out of 1,000 would have the skill and misfortune to make one. “Aye,” said Grenwyn, “she is a fine weapon, who came to me at a very dear price...” he began.
Grenwyn was born into a small dwarven enclave nicknamed Devil’s Deep. The name had come about after a skirmish between the dwarves there and a few denizens of the abyss. The dwarves had dug so deep mining the valuable and rare gold heart sapphires that came from their mines, they had reached into the underdark. Little did they know, their new mine shaft opened up into a secret storeroom for a prominent dark elf matron. When she found out, she summoned creatures from the abyss to attack the dwarves. Though taken by surprise, the sturdy dwarves beat back the attack and sealed the lower cavern, but to this day, the horror of that attack was told and retold as a cautionary tale to young dwarflings. Unfortunately for Grenwyn, he was never one to listen to fairy tails.
Grenwyn was a gifted craftsman, and could have had any maid in the clan, but his heart went to one woman, and one woman only, Onyx Shaleshatter. True to her name, her eyes were black as the stone she was named after, and they sparkled like the finest cut gemstone. Her hair and beard were black and silky like a raven, with just the hint of a wave to them. Her figure was stout, but soft, and her laughter could crumble a cave wall.
Within a few years, Onyx was with child. Grenwyn could not have been more pleased, and yet, he felt more than ever that he needed to give Onyx more.
Greywn left at night and went alone, he knew it was dangerous, but he felt confident in his abilities and in the fact that it had been hundreds of years since the fight with the demons. He made his way stealthily and silently (for a dwarf) through the tunnels, he used the key he had proffered from an old friend to open the locked door. He entered the dark cavern and held his breath, he stood still, and listened intently, hearing nothing, he proceeded forward.
While it was true no one was in the cavern with him, the sapphire itself had been the trap. When the drow had sent their servants to attack the dwarves, one of the reasons they could not win is that they were never able to find the dwarven compound, so a certain drow matron by the name of Zarjra cast a dweomer on the sapphire that no dwarf could resist, and placed it in the center on the cavern.
Grenwyn returned home and presented the beautiful stone to his wife, who was both astonished at its worth and beauty, and furious at the risk her husband took to get it. Zarjra was startled, but not surprised when she felt of tingle signaling the stone had been touched after all these years. The dark elf none the less smiled wickedly as she saw the sweet family she was about to destroy.
Onyx was furoius at Grenwyn for taking such a risk, and refusing to wear the gem, she hung the sapphire above her babies crib, and Ambre would laugh as the firelight played off the crystals facets. Despite Onyx's initial wrath, Grenwyn was pleased and finally felt like he had given his wife and daughter a gift worthy of them. He went to work the next morning, carefully crafting the fine weapons he plied for his trade, never thinking once that it would be the last time he saw his family.
Zarjra knew just the associate she would use to mete out her revenge, and she smiled to herself as she watched it slither along the dark tunnels toward the dwarven holes. She laughed to herself as a rat scrambled across its path, looked at the creature, and turned to stone only to be turned to dust a moment later as the snake like creature rolled over it.
The basilisk would never take out the whole dwarf colony, but she didn’t need it to. For the moment, the dwarves presence benefited her as it protected her holdings from creatures less intelligent and therefore more apt to cause her problems. Thus it was that she would enact her cruel revenge on the unlucky dwarf who had crossed her path. She had the information she needed about the location of the dwarf stronghold, and she would be sending a strong warning to them to stay away from her territory.
Grenwyn was just coming back to their home for lunch when he saw the door ajar, he knew something must be wrong because Onyx never left it open. Then he heard the hissing, a thousand thoughts rushed through his mind as he raced to the door, and none of them were pleasant. As he turned the corner, he pulled up short, a great snake like creature slithered before his wife who stood frozen in place, turned to stone, and the snake was leering over the baby who did not take her eyes from the reflections in the sapphire. Luckily Grenwyn realized in time what manner of creature he was facing. Grenwyn rushed into the room bringing a mighty swing of his axe down upon the creature’s tail. It screeched in pain and spun on him hoping to freeze him with its gaze. Grenwyn was prepared though and kept his gaze down. The creature jerked its head back and prepared to sink its fangs into the annoying dwarf, but its fangs hit only air and Grenwyn spun behind the creature, covering the babies head with its blanket, and chopped again at the creature's tail.
This time the force cut the end of the tail off, but that only seemed to madden the creature who broke into wild pursuit each lurch of its head barely missing the agile dwarf. Grenwyn was mostly parrying but managed to score a few hits here and there, he could hear other dwarves rushing to his aid, drawn by the commotion. Grenwyn was torn between protecting his baby, and moving towards the hallway to warn his fellows to avert their eyes. Of the first 5 dwarves to reach the room, only 1 was lucky enough to avoid the paralyzing gaze. The others rushing in to help caught on quickly enough, and there were no more casualties in that manner.
The basilisk was surrounded and bleeding from a dozen wounds. Grenwyn rushed in and hacked a mighty blow at its neck, which cut it wide open. Grenwyn held out hope that the petrified condition could be reversed and his child was yet uninjured. Then, in its final throes, the snake lashed the remnant of its tail against the petrified Onyx, and in that moment, his wife, and his heart, shattered into glittering dust. Grenwyn let out a scream of agony, and Ambre, who had by then managed to remove the blanket from her head, turned only to look into the eyes of the serpent, and was turned to stone. Rage overtook Grenwyn and he hacked what remained of the creature in a pile of bloody gore, and then grief took him, and he sat there, uncaring and unfeeling for a very long time, until finally, his thoughts turned to revenge.
The high priests helped him trace the magic and he spent years planning his revenge on the drowess who had taken his family. When he was ready he moved quickly, and his vengeance was swift, but that tale is one best left for another time. He used a rare ancient ritual to bind the bones of Zarjra into a magical hammer. The spell used the sorrow and rage of a person who has been caused great loss and enacted vengeance upon the source, allowing them to create a weapon made of the bones of their slain enemy, and fueled by emotion that is far more powerful than weapons, even magical ones, made of metal and wood. A boneblade only comes once in a dozen or more generations, and it was Grenwyn’s gift and burden to bear one.
After his crafting, Grenwyn could not find peace within the confines of his home. Though no one blamed him outright, he knew it was his stupidity and impetuousness that had killed the woman he loved, turned his child to stone, and turned to stone 4 other of his kinsmen. He wanted to leave, but he had to see if his daughters curse could be reversed as he would not leave her if there were any chance for her.
No matter what spells they tried, the dwarven priests and elders were unable to reverse the petrification. They consulted elves, gnomes, and even svifneblin. Nothing worked, years had passed, and Grenwyn’s heart could bear no more. He hung the sapphire around his daughters neck, and left to create a new life, or destroy his old one.
“My friend, that is a dark and sad tale indeed, I am so sorry for your loss.” Laith said, and he gently placed his hand on Grenwyn’s shoulder. “Aye,” was all Grenwyn could manage, moisture was evident in his eyes, and they sat there in silence for some time.
The next morning Laith saw the first sign they had yet seen of the girls. He found the spot where Mynix must have landed from her flying spell, two small boot marks following a series of skips and skids in the soft sandy earth of the pine forest. They followed the tracks to the edge of the forest. Grenwyn and Laith exchanged looks, and moved together to search the ground for clues...or bodies.
Laith came across her first, and tears came quickly to his eyes as he saw her lying there. Blood, dried and crusted showed where it had leaked from her eyes, her ears, and her mouth. Her eyes were open and stared unseeing into the sky, her mouth hung open, but half in a smile, her cut tongue lay dry and swollen in her mouth. Grenwyn had seen Laiths face and came running to his side, Laith tried to hold him back, but Grenwyn threw himself to the ground next to the girl, weeping and searching for any signs of life.
Laith was sure the girl was dead, but, “She’s still with us!” Grenwyn shouted, and he lifted her head slowly as Laith uncorked him canteen and used his handkerchief to wet her mouth and begin to wipe the blood from her face. “We’ve got to get her back to Taylia,” Grenwyn said. “But Feryl..”Laith began, then trailed off. “She’s gone from here, and in which direction and to where I can’t be guessing, but Mynix is going to die if we don’t get her help, and it might be that Taylia can at least point us in the right direction.” Grenwyn reasoned, Laith nodded in stoic agreement, and they worked to fashion a litter out of trees trunks and extra blankets and began the long journey back to Taylia’s tower.
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