Coins in a Bag

[Clan Blindhammer]

The cries of the eelmaster echoed off of the slick wet walls of the cavern as he made his way back across the Gloom River. The Gloom itself, its dark, cold waters lapping endlessly against the stone dock of Gloomhaven, sent sprays of fine mist into the caverns. A pair of Trilk guards stepped down from the stone stairway, continuing their patrol of the lower levels. They approached a huddling mass of cloth, nudging it none too softly with an iron-plated boot. The huddled being grunted with the boot and limped off, further into the shadows. The Trilk guards shrugged, counting it off as a homeless drunk, and continued the patrol.

Artikerus grunted from the boot, and once the guards were gone rubbed the tender spot vigorously. He kept the cowl of his filthy cloak up and began up the slick stairways, heading up to Gloomhaven proper.

It had been only weeks since he had been able to feel fairly safe with passing through the city, but he was not a fool to let a senior member of Clan Blindhammer catch him with his cowl down. He had, however, met with several members of the lower clans, leaders and artisans both, who recognized the power the surly dark dwarf had come into.

Vergadain, while not a common god for duergar, was still a god. And gods did bestow powers upon their faithful.

Artikerus snickered as he reached the top of the steps. Many of the merchants secretly worshipped the same god Artikerus now claimed – had worshipped him even while he had been in rule! It was not unheard of, but had he known they would have been summarily executed and their shops destroyed as homage to Artikerus’ once undying fealty to Shimmergloom – the shadow dragon that first brought power to Clan Blindhammer.

Artikerus turned his back to yet another pair of Trilk guards, who ignored him on their patrol. If one thing his brother had done well since taking the throne, it was beefing up the patrols throughout the city in case Artikerus did come to call. As the second patrol made its way down the hall, Artikerus ducked quickly into the First Bank of Gloomhaven. Ignoring the banker – another follower of Vergadain – Artikerus stepped into a small alcove, crafted so as to be virtually invisible against the stonewall. Artikerus took the small winding staircase deeper within, landing in a sparsely decorated room.

Many duergar milled about, many sipping mugs of ale and beer, all of them eyeing the newcomer. Artikerus marked the presence of new members, such as Mlenok, the old petkeeper, and Morko, the supply shop owner. A tattooed duergar, almost hidden within the lengthy folds of his robes, nodded absently towards Artikerus. Removing his cloak, Artikerus turned slowly, proudly displaying the large hammer and eye sigil of Clan Blindhammer that covered his golden shield. Artikerus smirked and took a place against the wall next to another wizened duergar - Gek the armorer.

“Surprised ye’d be showin’ that off so soon,” Gek murmured to Artikerus, so only he would hear. Artikerus nodded slowly and shifted the shield, showing the clan’s fabled namesake. The hammer hadn’t been used in years – the handle was worn smooth and the head was etched as if some corrosive acid had eaten through much of it. Magic emanated from it, but very faintly, its power fading in the years away from the taste of blood. Gek’s eyes widened as he saw the hammer. He turned and took a deep swallow of his ale before turning a curious eye towards Artikerus. “If’n that be yer only weapon now, yer a damned fool to be bringin’ it. I think e’en a Puspok could be breakin’ the damned thing.”

Artikerus only nodded to that as well. It had become only a showpiece, even in the Halls of Gloom. Artikerus had stopped using the powerful hammer when he first felt the priestly powers leaving him, many years ago. Now, it was too late to resurrect the weapon in battle.

The banker finally made his way down the narrow stairway and again the room fell to a quiet murmur. He moved quickly to the center, drawing all eyes on him.

“This eve we do draw the final plans for our brother to do lead us.” He stated. Many of the attending duergar nodded their heads in agreement, far more however remained silent. Artikerus shifted his feet and remained silent as well. “As we do know, we must be hiding as we always have – but now more of ye have do be telling me that the Merchant King do be seen to ye, and He do be wishing this so.” More nods of the head, and many more murmurs answered the banker.

“Do step forward Artikerus Blindhammer, of Clan Blindhammer.”

Artikerus stepped forward, holding his head high, making sure his hammer and shield were in plain sight. The banker nodded at him and continued.

“As High Aurak of Gloomhaven, I do accept Artikerus as a follower of the Merchant King. And while we do be knowin’ ye are new to the faith, it would not be to pleasin’ Him fer ye do be to start as Impoverished. I do anoint ye as a Merchant Prince, and do be knowin’ ye have our fealty in yer coming assault.”

Artikerus nodded and looked outwards towards the gathered followers of Vergadain. He stepped forward, drawing their utmost attention and pulled the Blind Hammer out of its belt loop.

“A symbol of my acceptin’ of new fealty n’ me cause.” Artikerus grumbled. He took the hammer horizontally, raised it above his head and brought it down on his raising knee, splitting the artifact in half. A loud crack reverberated in the small cavern, and smoke and sparks begin to emit from the two broken halves. Artikerus dropped the pieces to the ground.

Slowly the other Duergar began to clap, applauding the sacrifice of Artikerus. Artikerus fought to keep a straight face, for once in his life wishing he had kept a longer beard to hide the growing blush reddening his cheeks. The clapping slowly began to die down and one by one the Duergar slipped back up the stairs.

“If’n ye lead as well as ye did when ye first took the throne, we’ll be takin’ back to the surface in no time,” whispered the banker as he watched the other dwarves leave. “Might do be able to find the sums to be raising a shrine to rival Aefindar Ultokhurnden in Eartheart.” Artikerus smirked at the optimistic wishes of the banker, knowing that plans had already been set to begin surface expansions once again, once he was back on the throne.

“The gates do be open and the doors be unlocked for ye to make the move tonight. If’n ye see guards, be lookin’ for the Coin, for our soldiers will look no differen’ than theirs until ye’ve got your throne.” With that, the banker made his way up the stairs.


When the last of the duergar had left, Artikerus turned back and looked at the broken hammer. No doubt he would regret breaking that, some day. He harrumphed loudly and looked up the stairwell. He had the first solid loyalty from Duergar he had had ever since Clan Blindhammer took Mithril Hall. Of course, even then that loyalty was cemented in the fear of becoming Shimmergloom’s meal. Even in the siege of Dobluth Kyor Artikerus had never had such a following and support. Tonight he would test that support and retake his throne, for the third time, and remove the rest of his bloodline from the realms.

Yes, Artikerus thought. Finding Vergadain had indeed been a blessing.