Umber

Purcell and Jake receive honors for valor. (sab)

In the center of a room of stone lit only by four torches stand three dwarves in intricate, shining plate mail, and one figure in a simple gray robe. Next to him is Purcell. At the periphery, hundreds of dwarves stand in the uneven and uneasy silence that only dwarves, trying to be quiet in full ceremonial armor, can generate.

“Today is a truly rare day,” speaks one of the dwarves in the center. He holds a wooden pole, at the top of which is a rolled piece of cloth. “This day Clan Argathorn honors heroes from outside the clan, and holds them as honorary members. Their valor shall be a lesson for us all, for as long as Argathorn shall be. So that they will never be forgotten, their deeds will be written on our banner for all to see.

“The Golden Axe that is the center of our banner shall be crossed with the Silver Hammer. The strong among us will be reminded that all weapons which destroy our enemies are good weapons, and that holding to tradition for tradition’s sake alone is the act of a fool.

“Underneath these shall be added a single thin gray line. Do not mistake its importance for all that it is hard to see, and does not shine with glamour. It is the Gray Rapier, and the wise among us will be reminded that there is a time for subtlety, and that rushing headlong into battle without thought is another name for weakness.

He unfurls the new banner. “All hail! May our foes know fear! Argathorn forever!”

The thunder in the room is deafening.