A tale of treachery Maybe you remember the Gimli incident? God made many mistakes and clans gnashed their teeth and the world trembled. Here is some history, some background, and most of all a fine story from the Dwarf himself...

Three rings for the elven kings under the sky Nine for mortal men doomed to die Seven for the dwarf lords in their halls of stone One for the dark lord on his dark throne In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the land of Mordor where the shadows lie

Gimli lay struck on the floor, holding the dagger in his hand. He saw the green mucus in which the dagger was covered and knew the words in which it was described. Betrayal.

Looking back upon events while the poison began searing through his veins, one thought kept on hammering back throughout. What had gone wrong, where was the glitch in the dwarf's defenses? What have I done to deserve this. There was the truce - he had signed a truce, hadn't he? He knew those Dark Elves were not to be trusted. As the muscles in his body made him writhe upon the floor he knew. The vendetta was still on.

The Dwarf had been warned about the folk from the south. Humans and Elves and the things that combined them. Dark knights on the rampage, Dark Elves to betray. The folk from the south were made of the stuff that was used to scare little dwarves. The kind of stuff used to scare Gimli. Gimli, son of Gloin, leader of the Dwarfs.

He had been told the stories, the stories about the beastmasters from the west. How the old folk had lived in peace among the beastmasters of the west, with their huge machinery of war. The evil ones, it had, descended from the sky and started a killing frenzy. One of the beastmaster tribes had been exterminated, the story tells. One fell. The others hurried away, and so the ancestors were alone.

Gimli remembered an event from his childhood - when he learned how to hate the evil ones. One day, while Gimli walked through the mountain with one of the Lizardfolk, he noticed a noble Angel, clad in the purest black, being chased by a pack of the dark elves. Gimli remembered the stories of the Angels, and decided to watch. He saw the Angels disappear - returning to heaven, he thought. The dark elves waited. Gimli and the lizardfolk companion waited. An unsubtle move, a loss of balance; the Cameleon had - however impossible - been seen. One of the elves fired a bow at the cameleon, and Gimli started helping by throwing rocks. When the elves came too close, the Angel returned, only to be slaughtered by the elves. The dwarf did not forget.

Gimli became the ruler of a well-respected kingdom. Not much was heard of the evil ones, though rumours had it that the beastmasters fought many wars against them. The neighbouring kingdoms were concerned about the evil ones and counseled. Gimli was invited for the council too. What were they to do, they asked. The decision was a simple and straightforward one: attack!

The castles of the folk from the south were black. The castles from the dark folk glistened in the night. The dwarves were the ones who found them, in the place called Moria. This is where the evil ones live. The evil ones live upon the peaks of Moria!

The human knights of the temple order, the righteous ones, the blood berserkers from the east, all were fighting alongside Gimli. The hero Mel fought for what was right, the elves from the woods to quell their evil cousins. The tiger princess and the fairy king, all were gathered in the army that was to rid the world of evil.

This was about the time of the completion of the residence, the dwarven halls. Oh, so sweet were the dwarven halls! The finest stonecraftsmen had chiseled away at the sculptures inside the huge dining room, the finest tapestries decorated the walls, and gold plated the attached temple's dome. Rubies and other priceless gems decorate the throne room. So sweet was the view from the balcony, the view that stretched out over lake Revelation and the peaks of the the great mountain cluster, so sweet the sound of beer kegs banged upon the large tables, echoing through the halls. The halls were a gift of the blood berserkers from the east and their new leader. The place was, if one of the greater dwarven chants is to be believed, a place where any dwarf should feel at home.

The war went well and every skirmish, every battle brought the combined armies of the kingdoms closer to victory. The armies marched forward, slaying many evil ones in their path. All was going well, it seemed. A little too well.

Appeared on the scene the evil warlock Mercator, holding an ancient grudge against the united kingdoms of good. His dangerous spells thwarted the soldiers of the army and the curse of wrath was spoken out over the united kingdoms:

The sixheaded monster struck with complete surprise. The evil ones' secret weapon, with it's heads of flaming fury, battered the vulnerable flank of the mighty army, and put the forces back on the defense. Six heads, and sheer invincible, the monster pushed back the lines of unprepared elves, humans and dwarves alike.

The evil ones marched out once more, their lances forward. They tried to get to the marble halls of the dwarfs. Once the dark knights attacked from the east, once the dark elves pushed from the north. But the dwarfs held their ground. The dwarfs, they said, would never move.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The desperate kingdoms looked towards the stars for a sign. What should they do? The armies of evil marched closer every day, the six-headed beast trampled many allies in it's path, the kingdom grew closer to desperation, and needed a way to stop the onslaught. For an entire fortnight, the dwarves bade, chanted and called to their gods for help and for guidance.

A quest! The leaders of the kingdoms would set out for a quest! The answer was to be found within the land beyond the beastmasters. A herb to soothe the beast was to be found there, the kings themselves would have to go and retrieve it there. Gimli was the first to go, and all did follow: the human hero, the blood berserker, the pixie prince, the paladin, the wizard elf, the high priest. Only the tiger princess would stay behind. The tiger princess had no god to follow, and didn't believe a herb would save them from the beast.

Soon the party was on it's way, only to be followed by the news of the tiger princess being slaughtered and her border realm overrun by fell creatures. The march was long, the march was dark. Along the way, Gimli met many creatures: the burrowing rodents, the guild of guides. Gimli met the skorpionmen, and even the pendragon. Many nights passed, until the day of Gimli's return broke. And there was rejoicing!

The news was good, the quest fulfilled! The beast had been soothed, but not only that, Gimli had encountered a dark elven noble, and bartered peace with him - the kingdoms no longer fought. The people rejoiced, a great feast was to be held in the halls. For the first time in many months laughter rang through the marble halls, the sound of beer kegs banging on the tables had returned. The great feast, everyone had been invited. The Cameleon lord had brought new boots as a gift, the enigmatic ORZ brought a *plaything*, whatever that was. Even Eothan, the ambassador of the evil ones, had a seat among the celebrating people.

The scream was heard, the dagger been used. In a flash, everything became clear to the dwarf - he had not been given peace, he had been given a reason to get offguard. Few dwarves were sober enough to notice Eothan's poisonous dagger before it struck, and only one had the clarity of mind to use *ORZ*'s *plaything* to momentarily freeze the dwarf in time...

Gimli's trust saw him stabbed, but there is more to this story, which shall remain untold... I can say this much: God's wrath saw him dead and devine foolery raised him from the dead. And Genesis sounded trumpets and the sphere was a lesser place. If you were there you know what I mean. Let us hope Gimli and God have both learnt their lessons and this will never be repeated.