Expansion - Chapter 24

 

Helvar – Grand Chapel of DurnBim Hold

Taking his few items from the cart, Helvar walks past the main hall of the Grand Chapel and looks for the rooms for the acolytes and priests. Finding an empty room with a bed, he lays his pack down, lights the lamp, and then lies on the cot for a moment, stretching out on the blankets overtop a rope lattice held by a carved stone frame.

An acolyte knocks at the door frame, “Helvar Durn-Karr, you are to follow me.”

He sits up, runs his fingers through his beard and then follows the acolyte, who is holding up a small lantern with a candle.

They go down a set of carved stairs and enter a set of lower chambers, all of which have hinged doors. Halfway down the hallway, the acolyte motions for Helvar to enter the room which is lit by a single lamp suspended from the ceiling. There is a small table with two chairs.

“Please take a seat.” The acolyte says and then closes the door.

The room is designed as a ‘confessional’, where dwarves who feel guilty about a transgression against their community and the church, can come, confess, and, with the help of a priest, come up with a plan for restitution. This is used when an infraction doesn’t raise to the level of being a ‘crime’ requiring a magistrate or a judge, but more of a spiritually based item that affects a clan.

The walls are covered in woven tapestries, depicting the Laws of Durn.

“Cloth to prevent echoes. As well designed as anything at Khar-Durnath.” He says softly to himself.

The door opens and dwarf wearing a dark cloth hood, covering his face, enters.

He has slates and barkskins in his hands as he sits across from Helvar.

The door is closed from the outside, and the dwarf clears his throat. “Helvar Durn-Karr, also known as Acolyte Helvar Quiet-Stone, do you know why you are here?”

Helvar leans forward and steeples his hands. “I assume that the Silent Masters are not pleased with my work.” Helvar says in Mishikwe.

The masked dwarf replies in Durask, “You use the language of ‘shadow walkers’. Do you consider me your adversary?”

Still continuing in Mishikwe “I simply wish to keep thing from ears who don’t need to hear what we are saying.”

The masked dwarf switches to Mishikwe, “Very well, we can speak like this to confuse ‘stone ears’ who shouldn’t hear.”

Helvar sighs, “To expand on my answer, I guess that our masters are not happy with the answers I have provided.”

The masked dwarf looks at the slates, “No, on the contrary, these reports are well assembled and look very professional.” He then takes flips through the barkskins. “These on the other hand, show a disturbing trend. More than once, you comment that Bimkor or Goblins would be more useful than Silent Hammers in uncovering the truth.”

Helvar exhales slowly and leans forward. “That is because in recent incidents, there were no traps. Where the Legion of Stone thought there were spiders pushed to madness by zhul‑durak, you have beasts gone feral from hunger and lack of care. As for the death of the surveyor, you had an untrained boy who missed the warning signs because he couldn’t read Goblin and had no knowledge of how their waste caverns worked.”

“What of the smoke trap?”

“That was Legion arrogance and ignorance. There was snow that blocked part of the air channels. The oily compound they used to burn the webs made noxious smoke that had nowhere to go so it filled the adjoining chambers until it made it to the main cavern and fresh air. By that time, the engineers pulled back and the Legion had casualties.”

“But you hadn’t arrived when it happened. So how do you know?”

Helvar leans back and lets out an irritated sigh. “Because the people who understood, the Mining Guild Engineers, talked among themselves. And I did my job and listened.”

The masked dwarf looks through the barkskins and pauses. “So, none of this has to do with you developing sympathies for the Goblins?”

Helver pauses and fidgets with a braid in his beard. “I don’t like people being killed for no reason. If I had been ordered to kill the border scout, quietly in the dark, I would have. The same is true for any of the Protectors we identified. If it had instilled fear and caused rumors, that I would have understood and done it. But publicly hanging all of them and then herding the rest of their people into a snow-covered pass, to freeze, is a waste.”

“Why a waste?”

“Did any of the engineers or Legion talk with the Spider herders, waste workers, or any of the people who could have prevented the tragedies you mentioned? No. And if I had been allowed to continue my work at Bimadizi‑Kor, I would have had official reports that would have answered questions about what lay directly outside of the border communities. But I was stopped and the Iron Legion took over. That made it a waste of my time too.”

The masked dwarf stands, gathering the slates and barkskins with deliberate care. “We will hold on to all of these.” Then, switching to Durask — clipped and formal: “Rest. Tomorrow, you leave for Khar‑Durnath. You will rest and study at the monastery.”

The door opens. He leaves without another word.

The acolyte who brought Helvar down the stairs appears in the doorway, lantern in hand. “If you’re hungry, it’s almost Stone‑Rest. The dining hall is open.”

Helvar exhales through his nose. “Last meal for a condemned man.”

The acolyte blinks, confused.

“Condemned? Who’s condemned? I was told you needed the confessional after a difficult time in the caverns. Aren’t you hungry?”

Helvar studies him for a heartbeat — realizing the acolyte heard nothing of what was said inside.

He forces a weak smile.  “A bad joke. You’re right — it was a difficult time. Food sounds good. Lead the way.”