Kiris Dahn

The elven forest isn’t quite forever. Eventually, it becomes just regular forest, with all the things non-elves have to worry about it in a forest. Wolves, bears, spiders, snakes. Cold, starvation, death. But some humans live out there anyway. It’s a pride thing.

The folks of Kiris Dahn, they used to have a proud little town, under the Duke of Kiris. They’d rather live there than anywhere else. It’s a pride thing. Doesn’t seem likely, all the way from what used to be civilisation, with orcs and goblins everywhere in those hills. Word was, the Kiris were artificers way back and had built the Staying Stones, six stones that could keep the whole town safe enough from anything you could throw at it. Of course, when the cataclysm came everyone ran for cover and every town in Cellona got turned upside down. By the time the lights came back on, and the folks found their way out of the forest and tried to rebuild, the goblins had turned Kiris Dahn into their personal shit-palace.

All they need is just one Stone, and they can build up something new on the bones of the old. But the elves say they should come into the city. Sending elven troops to clear out goblin-hives is a fool’s errand, and not worth sullying a blade if it’s just for some pissant town way off the reservation. If the citizens of Kiris Dahn are too stupid to come in out of the rain, then they can drown. They say it a lot prettier, of course, but that’s the message from the city.

So Kiris Dahn, well, they’ll try to get the stones back themselves, best they can. Old man Thellis is pushing sixty but he can’t stop going in there and trying. Last time the goblins beat the eyes out of his skull. But unless they tie him to the bed, he’ll try again, eyes or no eyes.

It’s a pride thing.

Kiris Dahn

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