Prologue

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Jun 19, 2023 7:15 am
For many moons the name Mirn Dural has been ringing through the dwarf-realms like the sound of hammer on anvil. None could say how the rumours began, but soon they spread through all the dwarven clans. "Long have the Crystal Halls been lost," some said. "It is time we reclaimed the glories of our ancestors."

Others saw the hand of Aulë at work in this, for priests in their meditations and rune-smiths at their forges reported visions of a lone mountain in a desolate land. And the strange tale of Ghardak Ironhelm seemed another omen.

Rarril Stormhammer, oldest and wisest of the Dwarf Lords, summoned a great council on Durin's Day.

"We cannot be sure this is the guidance of the Maker and not some trick of evil," she said. "And Mirn Dural passed into memory long ago; whither it lies none living know. Let us gather doughty dwarves who are wise and strong of arm and heart, who do not fear to tread the wild lands or deep places. Let them go forth in secret and seek the Crystal Halls."

"They will be rich indeed if they claim its ancient treasures," said Geir, the Lord Ironhelm.

"So be it," replied Rarril. "They will have earned it."

Secretly, the Lords of the Dwarves gathered together a company brave and skillful. After many adventures through strange lands grown wild and dangerous, the searchers at last stood before a single, looming mountain. None of them doubted that underneath lay the lost city they sought.

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