Role

Chapter 7

Absent from the surface, or even near enough to the surface to be called the
Underdark for much time, Bilgritik followed the caverns of black glass into
the depths where stone itself was birthed. It was here the Song of the Earth,
Song of Creation, the Song of Thar Eris echoed in his body and soul.

He slumbered here for some time, fraught with dreams of the Cycle of Creation
being disrupted. The undead walked freely, or so they claimed. Their feeble
bodies only buying time against the call of the Stone to return. It was here
too, that another vision of Nordiach returned to him. This time, the behemoth
patron of Dwarves awoke in rage and slumber. Molten Eyes glared at the Last
of Grummelhall as he bellowed.

"Upon the surface, blood of my blood, you are needed. The Ancients gather to
heal their wood, yet how can it be so if the stone it draws life from still
bears its scar? Their trees and grass will only harbor hatred if the water
they drink is as foul as poison. A time will come, when one of my own must
make a decision, whether the Stone is to be healed, or if the Taint is to
stand. Many have labored the most ardently, and yet their efforts will be for
naught, if the ground is not made sacred."

Abruptly awakened, Bilgritik hastened to the Surface, to find a most sacred
Ritual soon to take place.