Memoirs of a Dwarf

EVENTS NEWS #25
Date: 3/12/2013 at 7:51
From: Anonymous
To : Everyone
Subj: Memoirs of a Dwarf

Have I always lived here? Like this?

No, once I lived above the caves. I only came into the Mac Mordain Cadal when... now I cannot recall how she got me...

I cannot even recall my name.

I wonder if I even had one.

When the Mistress awoke with a cry from her sleep, I almost felt like I could feel enough to dread her. But before I am even able to really press my hands to slow their work, she's upon me again. The stench of her and her insanity. A part of me realizes I should actually be bothered by this woman who has not bathed in... well, does it matter when? I barely remember to blink, the act of distaste over an odor is farther from my abilities than the ability to run is for fish.

Wrenching my head back, Mistress Aeilleme curses in her native tongue as she jams another phial of potion into my mouth. My eyes roll up to look into the jagged planes of her face, tormented by her losses and her imagined slights, and my last thought is that I really ought to have learned Moredhel...

Everything is just flashes, rumbling in the caves and flares of magic. The burn of Valheru power and the taste of rock dust falling into my mouth.

Oncemore I can feel myself begin to rise from the stupor, unfortunately it's just as the Eledhel find my Mistress-captor. Even as they surround her, I can't stop my fingers from reconfiguring the 'quake-starters' as I call them. She screams at them, the Eledhel who I learn are called Ran, Charlie and Silvost, telling them of our curse she claims turned her beloved to madness.

I wonder if she has it now.

Before the shock of such a thought can settle upon my muddled mind, she lies dead. I try to meet their eyes as they depart, but it is just as she says. I am just a dwarf. Just a tool. And just as it was the last time she was slain, she will rise. I would try to summon the energy to hope it will not be before the potion fades from my body, but it is already too late.

She returns, and once again, the taste of poppies and bloodroot fill my mouth. Once again, I work her will with my fingers, causing my people to weep as she once did for her own loss.

Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Wochem, in the year 43.