The Mithril War

[Jarngron]

As the Luskan forces organize work camps razing the forests along the northern trade routes, so their guard begins collecting taxes from merchant caravans, setting many at unease in the light of a new Lords Alliance between Waterdeep and Luskan.

Many seek the advice of Jarngron, the son of Grimr, the founder of the Ironclad Mercantile Coster. The prisoners have been seen hauling Mithril by the cart and there seems to be a political unrest in the region as many are unsure what projects have begun. With his reputation as a tradesman, Jarngron does not seek to make enemies but prefers customers.

Now the adventurers that seek his wares of Mithril and adamantine must take up and fight for what they desire, for with this pressing occupation of Luskan comes a dwindling stock of ores. It is rumored that Jarngron has offered a rich bounty to any that should take up arms against their overseers, and that he comes not only to liberate those that have been pressed into chains wrongfully - but to offer hope and an occupation to the willing.

As the lines are drawn, Faerun risks being thrust into an all-out war over the most precious metal unto the Dwarves. The treatment of prisoners, the imposition of sovereignty, and the queer taxation of merchant caravans all pale in comparison to this offense. With political unrest growing and the stocks of ore dwindling amidst the Mithril Halls, the Dwarves are pressed even more-so to seek resolution.

Jarngron has begun to rally a council of those that have earned his trust, and those concerned for the common and free folk. His conspiracies of rebellion are a whisper among the marketgoers, so much as offering a fair wage and stipend to those that take up arms against their oppressors. A soldier, a hammer of war, and a chieftain of trade - now he has become a commander of forces, and offers the coin of his coster to those that shall fight alongside him.

Even now his spies gather to speak lightly and watch closely... Their words whispers across a realm that shall embroil in a bitter war, a war over Mithril.

[Jarngron]

A terrible battle of mercenary forces and the entire Luskan cavalry engaged during a small venture to probe the Crags near Luskan, where their mining operations had been reportedly spotted. On this, the Seventhday in the sixth day of the month of storms, the mercenary forces defeated a cavalry charge against them and overcame many of the occupying forces taxing the northern roads. This is the first strike against those that occupy the lands with self-imposing sovereignty, and a battle won - at great cost of sacrifice and love for humanity and Dwarf alike.

Though this battle is won it is not a war. The bards shall sing, but be it of victory or menace?

Only the bards shall tell the tale. It is rumored Jarngron seeks now to employ them, as well.

[Aysa]

In a hand written letter (which will eventually be posted ICly as well at the Font of Knowledge)

Greetings to my fellow Waterdhavians,

I am writing this letter to share my thoughts about the recent developments to the north, and the whispers of rebellion and uprising. Now, full disclosure, while many of you know me as Nixa, I am Anyska Oreile, the daughter of Lord Walder Oreile and Lady Mairead Oreile. They are merchants that work for Lord Thesp Elthorchul, collecting rare and unique spell components. So it may be self serving to address these concerns; however, I felt that something needed to be said.

When these events first unfolded, I feared that my initial reaction was a reaction based on my former self's experience. I thought that the Loviatan in me was responding, uncaring of those who are being placed in the labor camps. That 'freedoms' were being taken away, and that my deep seeded philosophy was influencing my opinion on the matter. However, after careful consideration, I no longer think it is the Loviatan in me, but the person who I wish to be.

I should explain or give some background on myself. For those that do not know, I have renounced my faith as a Loviatan. I am hoping that by the grace of Lady Firehair that my soul will be saved. One of the epiphanies that I had to make me renounce my faith was when I realized that an ambitious scheme I had could have created much devastation, similar to the devastation seen outside Silverymoon in the refugee camp. See, I hated my father so much that I wanted to get a cruel and sadistic revenge upon him. The plan consisted of me taking advantage of a grievance that exists between the Dwarves of Mithril Hall and the Lords of Waterdeep. I was going to make it appear that dwarves were attacking caravans as a sign, indicating that they were not happy with the Lords of Waterdeep since the Lords of Waterdeep gladly aided Silverymoon, but no aid was sent to the dwarves. Obviously, these "dwarven" attacks were going to affect my Father's caravans. The financial impact and reputational impact of being unable to protect his shipments were the desired result of such a plan. Unfortunately, the impact would have been greater on the area as a whole. A war-torn nation, the lives lost due to battle, cities not getting their much needed resources from those caravans, the financial impact on the Mom & Pop merchants potentially putting them out of business, and on and on. When I opened my eyes for the "first time" and realized what could have happened, that is when I said no more.

But now, I am finding that the grievance is easily abused. All the things I feared from my own plan may still come to pass with these recent developments. So what is happening? Luskan forces have cleared the roads north of Waterdeep. Their presence can be seen and felt from Leilon and all the way to Evermoor Way. Leilon, Neverwinter, and Longsaddle are all affected by this "occupancy". They have their forces attacking and capturing bandits that have riddled those roads for the longest time. They are making the roads safe again. In exchange, they are charging a "tax" on caravans that is based on the goods being delivered, the quality of said items, and the number of wagons. This "tax" has been agreed upon by the Lords Alliance.

It is said that these prisoners are then being put into labor camps. Some wish to call it slavery. I view it as indentured servitude. These prisoners committed a crime and were captured while committing said crime. They are then put into these camps to serve their sentence. Claims of the poor and the homeless are also being placed into these camps, but this has only been hearsay. There is no empirical evidence to support this claim. And the only people that have made these claims have been the dwarves.

If you choose to aid in this rebellion, there are things that you need to consider.

1) Leilon, Longsaddle, Neverwinter, and other towns under Luskan occupancy will "suffer" from the effects of the war. Innocent lives will be harmed who have nothing to do with this "difference of opinion". Consider those lives versus the lives of those who chose to live as bandits and have killed many adventurers in their time.

2) Given the location of the Luskan forces on Evermoor Way, it is possible that due to the effects of the rebellion that Silverymoon could be cut out from caravans and resources. That is a war-torn city already with many refugees on the outskirts of that town. Do you really wish for them to endure even more hardship?

3) Let us assume that your rebellion is successful, and that these people in the labor camps are freed, where are you planning on taking them? You have violated an agreement for the Lords Alliance. You can not take them to Waterdeep, Leilon, Luskan, Silverymoon, or just about any other city in the North. They are all a part of the Lords Alliance. That would leave the dwarven cities in the northern mountains. Are you expecting the refugees of these camps to live in a refugee camp that's located in the harsh terrain and even harsher elements? How many of those refugees will die in that kind of environment?

4) Not to mention, going to against the Lords Alliance will make you a traitor. Do you not like living in Waterdeep? Are you wanting to hear the Town Crier announce your name as a traitor to the city?

Stop and think what the "common good" is before finding false prophets, preaching how you're helping the poor and freeing people from slavery.

Anyska "Nixa" Oreile
Raven of the Wings of Charm

[Thurgan]

**A simple and brief reply is posted beside the other**

The Lords o' Waterdeep did naught tae aid Silverymoon. In fact the Rat was all bar responsible for the outcome. Ye should research the facts afore ye spout rubbish.

Many were bandits, many were innocents and never harmed a soul. Bar now they all be the same. Slaves. If ye truly think this be just, then Lady Firehair should cast ye aside just as ye did Loviatar for ye are yet a Lovite at heart.

All it takes for evil to prosper, such as this infringement on basic living rights of all, be fur the good and just folk to dae naught. Times are dark, it be time fur those with a bit o light in their hearts tae stand tall and strong, and nae be pushed back another step. If you do not openly oppose misdeeds such as these committed by Luskan, then ye are part o the problem as the dark omens loom in the sky above.

All through time when wars have ravaged lands. Dwarves have taken in those that have felt its gripping touch. And this be nae exception. Iffin there be a soul tha require a shelter o'er their heads, food, and a bit o coin tae get on their feet. Than that will be what we do.

If this makes me a traitor. I ask a traitor to who? A traitor to the Rat Rasavir? The Rat whom caused the folly that grips Silverymoon? The Rat that caused the toils that now grip Waterdeep? The Rat whom backed the attack of sovereign ground...for the first time? The Rat that openly backs the inherently evil actions of the Luskan advance now?

Then I guess I be a traitor. Bar at least I fight for something that truly matter. I fight tae vanquish evils such as these so that wee weans like yerself can mope about and spout rubbish iffin they like. Ye be welcome tae speak the truth, bar that does nae seem tae be yer fortay.

[Jarngron]

As the political landscape erupts into turmoil, soldiers in the east seek to subjugate any and all under the thumb of the Red Wizards - roving ogres and a hideous abomination known as the red death are seen in number near the Elven lands of the Yuirwood, and even the Zhentish cavalry has become transparent: aiding bandits against the lone traveler.

Jarngron, the son of Grimr, has gone to the City of Pirates where he finds his connections growing every day - for many seek his wares, and are soon made to know exactly whence the lack comes.

It is said that Jarngron has fought the Thayvian troops directly and won.

[Jarngron]

King Bruenor, in his efficacious wisdom, has commissioned the Dwarves of the Mithril Hall to take up the task of their ancestors and set the mold for generations to come - Jarngron and company have been commissioned for the prospecting of new mines. After years of scrutiny, the Luskan folk are no less guilty than any other for the theft of Mithril, most sacred unto the Dwarves.

Though Jarngron was not willing to hear of those he trusted betraying him, the facts have come clearer in time. Now, the Dwarves know whom has taken their claims, and so he has rallied even the Deep Gnomes of Blingdenstone to his cause. A heartbroken Dwarf, his rage falls unto sadness. For if those that he fought so hard to trade with in earnest would betray him, then it is he whom has been the fool, taking up arms against the Luskan Cavalry. Though no less deserving of punishment than any other den of thieves, Luskanites are but not the cause of his heartache.

Now knowing that his trust has been misplaced, Jarngron will never forget what has been done. Those that he worked to bring the miraculous joy of Mithril have taken too much of their own. Not even the legendary greed of Dwarves could compare to that of Human heart - to take such from the earnest and hardworking Dwarves of his company, for now he knows that it was but his own customers that have stolen away the livelihood of generations.

The constabulatory of Waterdeep has come to some understanding with Jarngron, the son of Grimr. Not even the rage of his bearskin shirt could compare to the betrayal he feels now. For there are but few with the ability to transgress upon the Halls of Mithril; and fewer still with the skill taught of the very Dwarves themselves to collect Mithril from deep veins. Nothing has been left for his children, nor their children, and no words will ever ease the dourness in his eyes to look upon those that have stolen from him his livelihood - the legacy of his ancestors, and that which belongs to generations of Dwarves not-even yet born, stolen away by those that he has given good trade and dealings unto.

Now he knows whom exactly is responsible. There are few shames so great as when a friend has taken another for granted. This insult has taught Jarngron why the Mithril Hall shall never open its doors.
Once, Jarngron thought to share the splendor of such crafts with all worthy. Now he knows only those Dwarves found worthy should be trusted with such precious things as Mithril. Even the Deep Gnomes have found their veins dry, and though the constabulatory wishes not for a witch-hunt, word has traveled amid the Underdark as to whom is responsible. Those that have betrayed the denizens of the Underdark are seen, and known. The Deep Gnomes may prove less forgiving than Jarngron, son of Grimr, and it is but a matter of time until the Drow cities have heard the name of those adventurers responsible.

Jarngron will not forgive this, nor forget that his kindness and good hearted nature have been spat upon. Those that lie their troubles before the smiths of the Dwarves are the very ones responsible. In a mood darker than his ale, Jarngron finds himself in despair. For if those he trusted would repay him so, he should never deal with them again. The sound of picks and hammers ring once more within the depths of the Mithril Halls, and with it rumors of traps most heinous to those that would trespass upon the sacred mines of the Mithril Halls, so that only Dwarves - true Dwarves, and none of that finger-waggling chicanery, would ever mine there again.

For it is not only the veins of ore that have been depleted, but Jarngron's trust in the heart of mankind.




The War For Mithril has ended.