[center][h2]Four Questions[/h2][/center]

Know this my kin; know this tale of our lords, our creators. I have traveled far to give you this story.

There once was a tribe, a great tribe, whose lands spread far and its herds knew no bounds and their mountains stood above all others. Their opulence was unmatched and the gifts to their allies were grander than any dwarf could even imagine. For all this grandeur, one flaw made itself clear to all who knew of them and all who heard of them; their greed was one to surpass any boundary for they were determined to keep their wealth and hoard it away from all. The tribe hid away their wealth in mountainside caves, only coming out with their herds to allow them to graze along some mountainside patches. They turned away the downtrodden, the beleaguered, and kicked away their own tribesmen for not having anything to offer to the tribe.

This was the life of the Four-Top Tribe, one of greed so consuming that at times they barely resembled a tribe for even the children were taught to have it out for themselves. The way of life drove away potential allies and traders, but the Four-Top cared little, so long as they held their hoards and herds, they were content to be isolated upon their mountains. Eventually, their friends drifted away and people stopped coming to their lands altogether for so self-consumed they were. “Wretches,” they’d be called, “Paupers,” they’d respond, even by those who cared about them most would all disappear. This did little to open their eyes, even if they had, some say that it would not have changed their fate.

One day, as the sun looked over the mountain and the winter’s breath began to caress the mountainside, there came a stranger who was haggard and without wealth. He wore a cloak that hid his form, hid his face with the exception of a long, graying beard that extended well past his chest. The stranger beseeched them for nothing more than a place to rest his head, somewhere where the cold would not bite at him and where he could warm himself. Each of the Four-Top sent him away, out into the cold and surely to die by night when the all-consuming frost came. Meanwhile, they sat by their fires, warm and relaxed, not even a thought of the old dwarf who had come to visit them had dared to cross their minds.

The next day, the haggard dwarf came back once more and, to their surprise, he had no sign of black toes or fingers; the frost had seemingly done nothing to him. They believed that the aging man had simply found a place to stay for the night tucked away from the deadly frost. When the haggard dwarf spoke once more, he asked them but naught but some wool so that he may make his cloak warmer so that the chills would not bother him and he could sleep more comfortably at night. Again, each of the Four-Tops refused him and this time said that if he wanted more wool then he would have had his own herds. Again, the haggard dwarf left and they believed that this time he might die to the frost as it crept through their mountains. They knew that none could survive twice out in the exposed mountains; death would come in time and rid them of a nuisance.

For the third day, that same haggard dwarf came back without a mark on his cloak, not seeming as if the frost had come for him in the slightest. They asked him how he survived the frost but he would not answer their question, for he did not wish to give his secrets despite their pleading. Instead, he asked if he could drink from their river to patch his thirst and then he would tell them how he survived the deadly cold. Once more, the Four-Peaks refused for the dwarf was not one of them and so he would not partake of their water, for which they had plenty. Again, the haggard one left surely this time to die of dehydration, the ultimate killer, for none could live without water.

Yet once more, for the fourth day, the haggard dwarf came back to them, this time with anger and heartache within his voice. Before they could ask how he survived the night again, he asked them for nothing but the scraps of their food, so that he may eat and then be gone from their sight. This time the Four-Tops all considered letting the haggard one have some of their food. Had they changed their hearts at this old dwarf’s persistence? All the same, though, they would each turn him away. He roared at them in anger, not for himself, not for being rejected, but for not taking kindness upon an old weary soul that would have died without shelter, in the cold, and without drink or food. He raged against them before he told them that he would have given them the riches of the gods had they once accepted his pleas of salvation. 

It was only then that they fell to their knees seeking forgiveness, begging him to give them the riches and  that they would become the best people that he had ever known. But it was too late and instead would look upon them with disgust in his eye before telling them that Voligan had made a mistake in making them. This wrought confusion and fear from the Four-Tops who continued to plead to the rich dwarf, even as His eyes began to glow and as He spoke to them one final time.

It was there that He said, [b][i]”You know only greed, it has tainted your souls and made you calloused to the sufferings of the weak. So, you shall walk this planet forever more, food will turn to ash, water will be dried, clothes ripped at the seams, and the frost shall forever follow you. Let it be known that the Four-Tops will be nothing more than wandering spirits who will never satisfy their wants and desires.”[/i][/b]

And so, the Four-Tops were cursed to wander Galbar forever as spirits, the dead wanting nothing more than to merely live once again. Their own greed had blinded them, made them think that they were above the sufferings of others and now they paid for it. Listen well kinsman! Know that greed is a curse and should we see a poor downtrodden soul, we should reach out and help should they ask! For it is the great Sun God that watches over our every action!

[hider=Summary]

This is a cautionary tale of a greedy group of dwarves who get cursed by the Monarch of All to roam Galbar as greedy spirits who are unable to satisfy their needs, even the most basic. Food turns to ash. Water dries away. Clothing rips. And winter follows, making them cold forever more.

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