The familiar fear rose in Igni as he entered the tunnel leading to the depths of the hold. The heavily-armored dwarf guard pulled their halberds back and nodded, and he could see a faint trace of hope in their eyes.
Help us.
We’ll hold the line here, so please find a way.
He could practically hear what they were thinking. It made him sick to realise that he would probably have to deny them.
He would have to go before the Council and tell them that their hopes would be dashed. It was a burden that was as crushing as an avalanche. More than his claustrophobia, he felt the walls, the entire world closing in on him, and he remembered the screams and the skittering and the sound of pouring lead again —
No. He could not be weak here. He had to be strong, not for himself, but for the people around him.
He had to wear his scars on the inside.
He forced a smile on his face, cast aside the fear crawling up within him, and headed to the Council’s chamber.
He passed two more guards, who smiled to him under their nearly full-face helmets, and faced the doors between them.
So marvellously crafted were the ten-ton doors that even a toddler could push them open if they were not barred. They swung open without a sound, without any sign that anyone was opening them at all, and then he saw it, the Speaker’s Podium, where he would soon be standing
“Announcing Igni Ro Falen. Citizen Igni, you may address the Council.”
Igni strode forward, mounting the two steps to the podium, and then drew himself up to his full height.
“Good day, honored Elders. I have come before you today in response to your message.”
There was no response but muffled whispering.
“You ask to hire Momon, the Dark Hero.”
He noticed some of the bailiffs flinching at the word “Dark”.
“I am here to tell you that it is not possible.”
The room erupted like a volcano, laced with countless shouts of “What?!” “How could this be!” “You told us!” “Liar!” “Traitor!” “Daywalker!”
A voice cut through the commotion. It was a quiet, calm voice that pierced the heart like a stiletto and bade all who heard it be silent.
The voice belonged to Senior Councillor Gorgus Ga Damzen, a distinguished, senior member of a Council full of distinguished, senior dwarves. Though he no longer had the sheath of muscles that had won him fame as the Stonebreaker, he was still tall (for a dwarf), his platinum-white beard was still full, and he maintained the dignified air of command that had made him a general before he had chosen to become a statesman.