One war. Two Sisters. One end.
There is no running from it. Fate shall have its way as both daughters of Stormband take to the field of battle. Each with one goal - vengeance.
Approximately 130k words.
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The worst enemy we must face are the memories of our own misdeeds.
General Westren - 5989 G.R.
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Just below the surface, in a pit created only after removing several of the floor's massive flagstones, Cabbat labored with a purpose. His singular and dedicated focus was on the final remaining loose gear he diligently pounded back into place. Each firm and precise stroke from his hammer changed its position along the shaft by mere fractions of the distance it needed to travel. The repetitive strokes were so rhythmic that they were something only dwarven hands could maintain.
Yet, even as Cabbat tried to lose himself in his work, the dwarf found himself annoyed. The source of his frustration was the ever so slight whisping of soft slippers tapping on still in place sections of the floor and lingering above him. Most would have thought him insane had he spoken of the inconsequential noise, especially considering the ruckus he was generating with his pounding. But only those who did not understand how attuned a dwarf's hearing was would not understand. Which was to say, most people wouldn't.
"I work better," he said, "when I'm not being watched by a hawk."
Lady Noranda, incredulous and impatient, hovered with arms folded. She had only seemingly a simple, yet at the same time incredibly complex question. "How much longer?"
"You did a lot of damage, Sweetheart. You should be lucky I can fix it at all. Devilish tempers and fine dwarven machinery do not mix."
"How much longer?" Her repeated words now came with added bite.
"One more good strike oughta do it." Cabbat pulled the hammer back, wound up and gave the gear as strong of a whack as he could muster. Everything rang and shook as the essential piece slid into final position. "There!"
Was it a perfectly pristine repair job? No. Cabbat didn't have the parts necessary to do that. And to get those parts, he'd have required a small army of his fellow kinsmen working with the original molds and design plans. All of those necessary items were in short supply.
