Durins Mountain

‘Ave you heard of Durin’s Mountain? It’s a tale as close to our kin as the Lordless March. See, after we were left with no guidance, we wandered, dispersed, with no purpose, home, nor culture. We walked like this for four hundred years. Few were alive from those times which we had a lord, and yet fewer knew the call of purpose. We only knew our promise, and so we kept it. We had no king, nor land to call our own. Some sought refuge with the dwarves, yet they found their hearts tainted with gold, and things of material value. Others sought refuge with their Kin, the Goliath's, yet they were turned away, for their loyalties lied with the humans, and their kings. Yet others sought to build a new kingdom, and forgot their oath, yet their names were forgotten, and their homes raised by unnatural means.

Yet, one man and his kin were not deterred, for he was old, and tired. Durin was a Stone giant, and he had seen many winters, and made many graves. He was tired, and wished to see a new era, yet still remembered the blood that rained the streets before the Lordless March. So he found a Mountain, Durin’s Mountain. There, he found a small creature. Tolbi. Tolbi was the first of the Honor Kin. He was young, and heartful, he gave Durin and his people home, and food, and drink. He and his Honor Kin had little, yet they shared it kindly. They lacked much, they could make only clothes, and food, they had no fire, nor tools to defend themselves.

Durin, one who first sought the help of the Dwarves had promised them to not share their secrets, so he kept this promise, and did not share their ways of metal work, nor did he share their mechanical contraptions. He along with Tolbi climbed the mountain that had hosted him and his Kin, sat atop the mountain. They sat there for thirty two thousand, eight hundred, and fifty nights, and thirty two thousand, eight hundred, and forty nine days. Durin alone descended, with the old and battered corpse of his companion Tolbi. His face cold, he spoke of what he had discovered. He told his Kin to spread far, and spread wide, to spread the craft of the runes. He sat alone in the mountain, with the Honor Kin, and taught them too Runes.

Durin’s people spread to the wanderers, and taught them our words, and taught them our ways, showed them  our craft, and set the seeds that we would come to nurture.

Yet Durin’s people did not wish to go away forever as he had intended. To his dismay, they later returned. They thought their leader would be glad to see their mission complete, yet to their surprise, he wept, for he knew they had forgotten their past; it was their intention to pronounce him Durin, King of His Grave.

Durin asked his Honor Kin to leave, find his people, bring them his necklace, and live with them. They reluctantly did so, and so never saw the fire that rained upon his mountain. To this day Durin’s mountain still lays black, with snow never to cover it’s broken scars again.