The Fall of Dwarves, Poem

The collapse of the Dwarven Empire was one of, if not the most important event in history. The dwarves were the most prosperous, powerful, and innovative species in Prythwyn- yet it all came to a crashing end. The following is a poem written by Molon Orcbane, a dwarven soldier who was present during the collapse.

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From Prythwyn's rock, from Prythywn's stone,

The Dwarven Empire once stood alone.

First among peoples, proud and grand,

They carved their legacy within our land.

Rich veins of gold and iron strong,

They mined and shaped, their work a song.

From deepest depths to peaks above,

Their lands were filled with ale and love.

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Riches divine, their coffers filled,

Masters of craft, their hands beyond skilled.

Their halls divine, their kings profound,

A peoples' pride, by Ravek crowned.

The hills, unnamed, now bore their mark,

In every cave, a spark, a spark.

Their wealth and power long to rise,

Reflected deep in the mountains’ eyes.

-

Prosperity though, a fatal disease.

With dwarven pride came untold ease.

Complacency took root within,

A silent rot creeping further in.

They feasted long on riches earned,

Forgotten lessons, wisdom spurned.

In quiet corners, whispers grew,

Warnings missed as dangers flew.

-

Then Orcs arose, a savage tide,

The Dwarves unready, could not abide.

Their fortresses fell, one by one,

Those days of glory all but done.

The clang of steel, the cries of war,

Resounded deep in mountains yore.

Dwarven blood on stone now spilled,

Dreams and hopes, forever stilled.

-

Through mythril gates the invaders poured,

No honor spared, no mercy stored.

Dwarven blood stained ancient halls,

Echoes of despair within their walls.

Defenders fell, their valor naught,

Against the tide, their efforts fought.

In every hall, the shadows grew,

Orcish evil, through and through.

-

Now scattered, broken, and in the dark,

Their legacy reduced to a fading spark.

Few homes remain, no hope to find,

A once-great people now left behind.

No gold or gems to light their way,

Their riches plundered, taken away.

The forges cold, the anvils still,

A silence deep, and a bitter chill.

-

In shadowed corners, Ravek does weep,

For dreams lost in the void so deep.

In scattered remnants, they now reside,

Homeless, hopeless, and stripped of pride.

With heavy steps and weary eyes,

They wander now under darkened skies.

No dreams to chase, no future bright,

An endless eclipse, devoid of light.