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His descendants are careful with their money, never too thrifty, yet never risking too much. They solidify the family claim over the town and a handful of other neighbouring towns. They eventually become Lords and Ladies of the area, guiding it with a steady hand.
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Tolbar tucks into his evening meal. The days of roast venison and stewed '''[[Tuskhide
A single candle burns in the middle of the long dining table. Tolbar, at its end, is almost in complete darkness. His butler, Codol, stands in the corner in complete silence whilst Tolbar quietly chews the leg of meat.
'''[[Blashryk]]''' was a thriving town once. Once. Before the '''[[Vingaborda]]''' mess. Before the Grol started raiding smaller, more feeble settlements. Now, the houses are empty, the inns are bare, the fields are overgrown and full of weeds. Tolbar and his retinue are the last remnants. He refuses to leave and they, perhaps out of pity, perhaps out of loyalty, have chosen to stay.
A tiny pinprick of light appears at the end of a pitch-black hallway. The sound of leather slapping against stone can be heard faintly. Keys jingle and a Dwarf's breath gets heavier as they sprint their way to the dining room.
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Tolbar had seen the inheritance before, many times. He brushed it aside for now, it held no secrets from him.
"We always thought that ''''[[Chapter Three|Gellion's Cross]]'''' was a piece of long-lost jewellery, some trinket we never found." The librarian went on, grabbing the map as he did.
"It isn't!" he shouted as he jabbed his finger down onto a seemingly-random point on the map. "It's a place!"
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Tolbar peered over his spectacles at the map. It did look like a cross...
A + shaped section, tiny in comparison with the nearby mountain ranges, backing onto the '''[[Ariq|Ariq Desert]]'''. It was on the very outskirts of Bormar, perhaps too far away to be true Dwarven territory. There might be contestations within some factions, or indeed with the '''[[Human|Humans]];;; of the Ariq, but the legality of the will was water-proof, Tolbar knew that from experience.
If this was true, it would be his last chance at regaining any semblance of a Lordly life. It would be nice to have subjects again. Well, it would be nice to have anything again.
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"To those noble Dwarves who have
"My own state of affairs is now public knowledge, my home lies in ruins and many of my subjects lie dead due to the Grol warlords who have taken advantage of the recent turmoils to fill their own pockets."
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