The warhammer was beautiful, in a way. A rectangular block of iron about four fists wide and ten fists long, was perched atop a thick oaken handle laced with gold and adorned with various jewels. Some jewels seemed to be missing - there were some notable holes in the  goldwork, some seared. One quarter of the iron block seemed violently melted, a horrific, almost hellish amount of heat applied in a single moment. About half of the melted end had mysterious dark shards protruding from it, some glowing eerily but faintly in the candlelight. A single word in sharp dwarf-runes was lightly inscribed along the top of the hammer, a fiery light seeming to emanate from it at times. Translated into the Common script, it read Dumatír in dwarf-tongue, which in the Common tongue is Dark-sealer.
"Don't [i]touch[/i] it." Hidur gruffly lifted the hammer with his soot-stained gloved hands away from the entranced Helm, who blindly raised a gauntlet to it as if in a trance.
"I-I'm sorry." The Helm quickly retracted his gauntlet, as if the warhammer was aflame. "It's just that Perundus wishes to take Malbareth's Bane into its custody for safekeeping-"
"NO! A thousand times in stone and never more, no!" Hidur set Dumatír back into its ornate case and shut it defensively. "This is the third and last time you people will come to see Dumatír taken away from her rightful place! Have you people no respect for family heirlooms?"
The Helm narrowed his eyes, while some of his men backed away in a mix of fear and respect for the dwarf's Adamance. "The Grand Temple has more than ten times the manpower [i]and[/i] blessed weaponry than here."
"Not for all the branches of Icebreaker Arms and Armor and the death of that miserly elf will I give in to your demands, master Helm! As long as this dwarf and his descendants draw breath, it will stay right over there." Hidur motioned to the case latched into the wall with a wary eye at the holy knights. A stray hand gripped the blacksmith's hammer at Hidur's waist. 
"Then there is nothing we can do except to send more men here, Hidur son of Hodor, and that will leave Perundus undefended," the human reasoned with a frustrated look. "We [i]cannot[/i] guarantee Dumatír's safety outside Perundus's walls. The Black Wanderer will not smite the Grand Temple's gate unless he brings an army along with him, which in the increased vigilance of ALL of Belar's armies will prove more difficult than a hundred years ago."
"I'm telling you, your Grand Priest will come over [i]here[/i] to Estermere if he wants to be the worthy man to wield it. And I am the only dwarf worthy enough to guard it!"
The Helm simmered until his comrade took him by the shoulder plate. "Captain. Surely you must know the stubbornness of dwarves. This one is no different-"
"I know." The Helm shook it off. "We'll return to the temple. Send word to Perundus that Icebreaker is not budging and to double the guard [i]again[/i] here."
His comrade nodded, and the armored knights exited the smithy in an orderly but dissatisfied fashion, their captain no exception. Meanwhile, Hidur eyed every single one of them with a suspicious eye and proceeded to securely turn the last locks of the the ornate case.

[i]"Yo, ho ho, to you I go
To break my heart and drink my woe!
For horse may bolt and gold may go,
But to you I'll go, through friend or foe!

Oh, black are the foggy clouds of night
And bright be the fat pig's flesh in light!
But through rain and shine, through sword or bow,
To you 'll go, through friend or foe!

Merry is our meeting down here,
And solemn is the Light's presence up there!
But through black and blue and Light's sword too,
To you I'll go... though I be a fool!"[/i]

A general laugh with a puke and a burp here and there was heard in the large backyard of the Leaping Stag as all the patrons began another drinking song with more or less the same tipsy melody as the first one. A tremendous bonfire with three boars on the roast was at the very center of the enclosure. Two still-sober but laughing figures stood leaning onto the wooden fence encircling the area.
"Good batch of ale tonight, I presume?"
"Aye, mayor." The other figure supped his ale. "Though I doubt it'll last for long, with this Malbareth lark from a century ago."
The other figure stopped supping his flagon. "You think old Hidur'll give up his old man's hammer?"
"Doubt it. Dwarves are stubborn folk and this one ain't any different."
The two clinked their flagons together and drank deep.