The mountain rose before them, a shield against the moonlight leaving the forest in near-total darkness. The goblins of the Yellow Handz tribe moved in front of their Dark Lord, they were as shadows in the night, particularly loud shadows. Their backs were covered by sacks, and their hands were full holding various crates and baubles that clinked and jingled with every step they took. The goblins had not stopped bragging that their hoard was greater than those of their peers. Zal’Rodal himself spent the journey back alongside the two Stenjin.
Spen the leader of the two was carrying the amber stone which the Stenjin called the Heart of the Mountain in his hands, his gaze fixated on the stone afraid to lose sight of it again. Migaal had lit the way for the entourage with his floating magical flames which accompanied them throughout the night. The flames flickered in the mountain wind, sometimes completely disappearing only to return in much the same way as a candle's flame could appear to have been extinguished only to jump right back into place. The Stenjin did not speak much on the journey back and for the first time, Zal’Rodal noticed that the stone creature seemed to emit a low humming noise whenever they did not speak.
There was something strange about these stone creatures. They were not quite alive, they did not breathe, they only consumed rocks and stone, and although they enjoyed resting, they didn’t require sleep to survive. Zal’Rodal was sure that these creatures had been magically created, though he could not guess their purpose. He wondered why the Stenjin were such peaceful creatures, surely an army of stone would prove a formidable fighting force to their creator. Instead, these creatures seemed content to meander endlessly digging out deeper and longer tunnels within the mountain. The Dark Lord turned towards the Stenjin, noticing now that after holding the Heart of their Mountain their eyes had adopted a similarly amber hew.
“What exactly does the Heart of the Mountain do?” Zal’Rodal asked, “I understand that it sustains you somehow, but how is this achieved?”
Spen pondered for a moment, the humming coming to a stop. “The Heart of the Mountain provides us with life, but I cannot explain why. The lore of my people has diminished greatly with time. All we know is that we Stenjin are the keepers and protectors of the Heart of the Mountain, although it seems we could not achieve this either,” Spen’s eyes became smaller as he said this before returning to their normal size, “We must wait till a true Stonewarden amongst us for many cycles.”
“Stonewarden? You did not mention such a person before?” Migaal interrupted the conversation, “The name sounds familiar but I do not know where to place it.”
“A Stonewarden is the guardian of our people. They are the ultimate protector of our people and have the power to guide us, we have not had a new Stonewarden since we moved to these mountains along with the last Stonewarden. We have not moved since, for we do not know where we should go.” the Stenjin next to Spen said, “We've dug deeper than ever, uncovering stones untouched by time… but nothing. No Stonewarden has appeared. No sign that the Mountain Heart acknowledges our need.”
The Stenjin continued their story, describing their peoples’ journey from mountain to mountain until arriving at his doorstep, though they did not know how long it had been since then. They dug in the mountain in hopes of creating or finding a new Stonewarden but as this seemed impossible they resigned themselves to creating new Stenjin with the Heart of the Mountain. The new generations of their people became fragile, and duller with every new iteration. They had lost neither the power nor the skill to create that their ancestors possessed.
“Perhaps the issue is not with you or the mountain, is it possible that magic is required to bring forth the full potential of the Heart of the Mountain,“ Zal’Rodal pondered, “If you have no mages among your people then we will require Visapis to attempt this.” He then looked at the Ferret sitting on his shoulder, “Maybe you have the magical capabilities to do this task?”
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Migaal looked at the amber stone for a moment before furrowing his brows, “I think it will require pure magic to do this task, something that is outside my realm of expertise. Unless the Stenjin have had dealings with demons in the past I am afraid I won’t be of much use.”
The Stenjin shook their entire frame in response “I’m unaware of any demons being part of our lore. We have stories of magicians aiding us in the past and raising some of our people from the stone, but these are ancient accounts of times long ago. The elders can tell you more of the mages once we return.”
Zal’Rodal did not currently have a magician in his employ unless one counted the one sitting in his dungeon. The magician in question would need to be particularly powerful and specialised in summoning or alteration magic, two things that were not easy to come by especially not in a forest at the edge of the world. The only alternative to a magician was using Visapis to power the required spell, the dungeon’s library might also contain the required spellbook to perform the magic. Unfortunately, all of their Visapis had already been spent summoning the ferret currently residing on his shoulder. Regardless, the return of the stone seemed to invigorate the creatures enough to maintain their frames.
A week had passed since the Heart of the Mountain was retrieved and brought to safety. The once-empty halls of the dungeon now echoed with the rhythmic scraping of stone against stone. Stenjin workers moved tirelessly, reinforcing tunnels and carving intricate patterns into the walls, their amber-lit eyes glowing in the darkness The stone creatures desired to be close to their sacred stone which was now kept in the castle’s throne room. All the Stenjin had been revitalised, their bodies losing their imperfections as they came into renewed contact with the amber stone. The eldest of the Stenjin was retelling the story of the ancient magician that had first awakened them out of the stone.
The Stenjin spoke of a magician that they called the Lady Eternal. They did not remember much about this magician aside from the fact that their ancestors were created by then. According to their legends, the magician had created many creatures and tribes across the world. She wore a great crown with a splinter of something from each of her creations encrusted upon it. The Heart of the Mountain was one of these gems that sat upon her crown. The magician had once ruled from the western seas to the mountains in the far east but that was long ago, so much time had passed that even the Stenjin with their minds of stone could not recall this as anything other than legend. Not even Migaal remembered anything about this Lady Eternal apart from the fact that she existed.
The other creatures that were created by the Lady Eternal also possessed a creature similar to the Heart of the Mountain. A magical item, capable of not only maintaining but also creating new creatures if one knew how to. Zal’Rodal was determined to find these magical items and gather new servants for his growing empire. To be able to create intelligent creatures out of materials found in the natural world was a boon he could not ignore. No Dark Lord before him had tried to approach the growing of their forces in such a way, instead they had always relied on dark magic and endless hordes of goblins and other monsters. These armies did lead to great victories in the past, but none of these Dark Lords ever achieved world domination through these means. Zal’Rodal would be different from the Dark Lords that came before him, and he would succeed. He did not need to sit at the top of a tower of black stone brooding and hurling lighting at his unsuspecting foes. He could instead gain allies diplomatically as he had done with the Stenjin.
Burning everything and robbing every creature he met, did have a certain charm to it. However, most large kingdoms and empires instead tried to subjugate and have the people of the land produce wealth and give it willingly instead of having to rob them. Of course, the occasional raiding and stealing would still happen, he didn’t want to lose his edge after all. He would try to get the humans on his side to rebel against their kings and emperors and instead serve him, a far superior king and emperor. Migaal seemed to agree with this proposal as he nodded along to Zal’Rodal’s mumbling. He wasn’t as strong as many Dark Lords of the past, nor was he as magically adept, he wasn’t even a great genius. He did, however, realise the strength of having allies, especially capable ones that did not have only gold and murder on their minds as his goblins did. These allies would of course be subjugated and commanded by him, but they could be coerced to do so by means other than violence.
The Dark Lord sat on his throne, great pillars lined up at his sides. His minions both goblin and Stenjin alike filled the great hall and awaited his commands. He looked at the assembled crowd eagerly awaiting his commands. Soon the time of conquest would begin.
