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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #2056625
A poem about the life and death of Ogrimbal, first of the Dwarf-kings.
Ogrimbal was the first dwarf king in the world, one of the strongest of his kind and founder of the first dwarven city, Dyn-Gholos, thought by many to be the first city in the world. While Dyn-Gholos became a city of immense proportions and prosperity, darkness took it during first demon war, when Ogrimbal was old and failing. He fell in the defence of his home.
This verse recounts part of the life of Ogrimbal just before his end, and his death. It is part of the tome known as the Drugir veros do-Drugabar, or in the common tongue the Dwarf Verses of the Fallen.

By torch-lit roads under mountain grey
In grand halls were peace held sway
There sat our king, his crown of gold
Of jewels grander than in stories told

The hammers struck and embers blazed
And songs were sung and pints were raised
In name of king, and name of home
There under mountain’s heart alone

On diamond throne there sat our king
Lo! Ogrimbal, the ancient’s kin
His prideful heart beat ever bright
His watchful gaze yet pierced the night

In olden halls under mountain grey
In ancient dark, no dwarf remains
The dark outside entered our halls
And now remains ‘till end time calls

Under ancient throne, now shattered and torn
There lies our king, the Titan-Born
Lo! There he lies in forgotten deep
Until the darkness away will seep.
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