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[center][h2]Thundrim Kadrin Throne Room[/h2][/center] 

The Throneroom was modest for a Dwarf High King, though it that still gave it a sense of majesty, grandeur, and craftsmanship no longer seen in this day and age. The stone of the mountain was hewn and shaped to fit a Dwarf King, the hall at least 20 Dwarfs high and 50 Dwarfs wide. Intricately carved, albeit stout and functional pillars lined the sides of the great room. Symbols of hammers, axes, and the Ancestor gods were etched upon the stonework. 

The Dwarf messenger, along with Gorrick the Hearth Guard, strode down the length of the room toward King Bagrick. The Dwarf King was a powerful figure to behold, grim of visage and long of beard. He sat there doing what any sensible Dwarf King would. Counting his gold. The Reckoner Scribe sat beside him, marking down each gold piece as he placed them in the opposite pile. The heavy footsteps of his fellow Dwarfs echoed across the room. Bagrick did not look up. 

"Who interrupts a King when he is counting his horde?" He asked. Two Dwarfs stood under him, holding up the table of Gold, standing as still as statues with the discipline only Dwarfs could muster. His Hearth Guard knelt before his King, the Dwarf's visage covered in his great helm. Only his brown beard was visible. "My King, an urgent message from the Manling lands of the Rhun." he said. "The Manlings call for something?" he asked. "No High King, but our Rangers report that Orruks and Beastman have begun to invade their lands in great numbers. The largest incursion we have seen in many years." 

It was only then that Bagrick Grimbeard looked up from his great wealth. The gilded and bejewled crown of Gorrak'zuhm upon his head. It was said other than various powerful, albeit mundane enchantments were upon it, it gave the King the wisdom of all of the Dwarf Kings of Old who had worn it. With a rough word in Dwarfish, his table bearers moved the Gold out of his way, and the powerful King set his massive fist under his chin as he thought for a moment. "Send word to Grimbold in the Southern passes." 

"War, my King?" the Hearth Guard asked. Bagrick shook his head. "No. I will not risk open war....not yet. But a reckoning is to be done on the past offenses of the barbaric races. How many Dwarfs reside in Barak-Kazul?" he asked his Reckoner scribe. The Dwarf looked up from his great book that recounted all of the gold, deeds, oaths, and grudges of the Hold. "Close to 50,000, my King." he replied. Bagrick nodded. That means they would perhaps have less than 30 thousand to fight. "Tell Grimbold to send five thousand Dwarfs to the manlings aid. He can lead the throng if he wishes-" Of course he would, Bagrick knew. Grimbold was known for his fierceness, prowess in battle, and hastiness (to be fair, hasty for a Dwarf is settling an argument before your great grandchild dies, so...) "and send back a report of their progress when they can." 

"Yes, my King." the messenger said, and was lead out of the Throne room, making his way through the outer part of the great hold, before being lead up to the top of the mountain through the caves of Troll Hewing, named after the great slaughtering of Trolls that allowed the Dwarfs to take the peaks for their own. It was at the highest peak he took the 'trolley,' a room hung up by steel cords that allowed quick access across the holds. It led him to the Gyrocopter that would take him there.