No honor among Dwarves…

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The Stone Cutter Clan was a strong and just clan among those that called the surrounding lands of Mithril Hall home. First and foremost miners they dug deeper than most ever dreamed of. It was said that their children knew how to work stone before they knew how to suckle. While quite a boast, they were still know for their skills at moving rock above all others.

Ash Stone Cutter along with his four brothers and father set out to reinforce the south west. Reports of gaps large enough to for parchment to slip through just would not do. Carefully removing some of the surrounding stones, keeping the key stones in place, work was underway.

Several turns of the glass had passed and it was time for a break. A small stew consisting of meats and mushrooms was being prepared when a shout from above echoed out. Apparently clansmen were working above and smelled the stew.

Ash’s father waved them down to partake in the meal. The young clansmen kept hollering down as to the makings of the stew and if there would be enough. His father feeling the dust against his beard waved them off for the echoes were having their effect on the wall they were working on. Unknown as to why these clansmen did not respond to his father’s signals then kept it up, even getting louder in their remarks.

Exasperated, Ash’s father went up to quite them. But no further did he get than a few stone’s throws, when the great wall came tumbling down. Seeing this he ran toward Ash and his brothers only to get pined by one of the many stones falling. Ash went to his fathers’ aid but was pulled back by his brothers to the safety of the wall’s base.
Watching his father being crushed by stone after stone was too much for him as he cursed his clansmen for his death...

As soon as it had started, it was over. The dust filled the air making it even harder to see. There he was gasping for clean air with along with his bothers buried among the ruble. One huge stone landed upright catching and deflecting many of the others forming a small pocket where he and his brothers fallen. As the dust settled and he could once again see only four remained. While the two middle bothers were cut and broken as was Ash, the eldest was pinned at the legs.
During the moments they were determining how they were to free him a voice could be heard from outside. It was his father...

While the pain could be heard in his words it was what he said that brought the fear into his boys the most. “Did not see the signs? What are ye think’n carrying on like that… me boys their trapped… What are you doing, put that down… NO! NO! me lips are sealed I won’t tell a”

Stone hitting stone was all that was heard next. The boys along with Ash knew what had transpired, no one made a sound…

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It was some time before anyone spoke after hearing the death of their father by their own clansmen. It was Ash, “We need to get you free brother if we are to kill the lie that is sure to follow.” Bother after brother took turns digging and picking away at the stone. It was of no use. As soon as one stone was freed two more took its place. While not a spiritual man as of yet, he knew that there would be no way of saving his bother pinned beneath the ruble. “Hold em down!” he said and with that and two swift swings of his axe the eldest was freed. Cursed was his name as it echoed in the rubble, though they all knew it was the only way.

Hours perhaps days had passed as the bothers huddled and tended to their wounds. “This was no way for a Stone Cutter to die” Ash thought so he began to pray that they were found. As time went on the eldest was the first to die. Ash’s prayers turned from those of freedom to those of his father and brothers acceptance to Dumathoin’s table. He knew that battle was the only sure mean to acquire such a seat and to slowly die trapped under the earth was not reason enough. His prayers did not cease until the last of his brothers died.

Exhausted, his body torn, with only the sound of the occasional stone hitting the pile above did he know his time was near. With axe and pick in hand he leaned against what was the great wall and awaited Dumathoin’s judgment…

His eyes pierced the blackness watching the dust dance among the stones as he did so many times before falling asleep. His breath was short and he knew his time was too. He began to pray again but this time for himself. It is said that upon death his clansmen were brought to a great hall card from a single solid stone of marble with traces of metals reflecting the light. It was here where their fate was decided; would there be a set for them or not?

Ash a waited this vision, though it did not come. What he not worthy of even an audience? Only visions of dust swirling in the air were all that he saw. This sadden his heart. He had always been a devout worshiper, more so than the rest of his clansmen. Why then is all that he saw was the swirling of dust. This grew heaving on his mind. He began to pray again asking why he not worthy of an audience. Still nothing but the dust swirling around in the blackness.

His mine began to drift to when he was a youngling playing in the rivers the flowed near the grand hall and a vision of his father there. He remembers the words of his father when he had question what if the river was to take him away. His father’s laughter filled his head, “If it did where do ye think the river take you lad?... It much like the air, it starts and ends from outside these great halls. And if ye is not careful it will spite ya out the side of da mountain. Aye would that be a sight, bare bottom dwarves shoot’n form da mountain side… make dem elf rethink the purity of their waters… ”