Thoth Durghanti

     Alduin peered at the vision on the wayside. The night air blended
seamlessly into the bright day beating down on J'layah and Twilight. The
effect was eye-bending. The two women were crouching back to back, but
otherwise there was no movement; not a cloud in the sky, not a wisp of dust
over the earth. All was silent.
     The scribe stepped forward and reached to touch the vision, but thought
better of it. The dark elf had a mask of consentration and anger on his face,
and Alduin didn't wish to distrupt his spell. Instead, he narrowed his eyes
and studied the terrain. The earth had an odd quality about it. The sand
was pale, and the rocks bleached white. Here and there clusters would push up
in strange formations.
     "Thoth Durghanti."
     Alduin jerked back from the vision. He spun on the Werre. The redguard
was staring at the barren land, seeming unaware of the reaction his words
had brought.
     "What was that? It can't be!" The little man was immediately angry.
     K'tarin gave him one look. "Thoth Durghanti."
     The redguard's expression brooked no doubt. Alduin looked again at the
desert. The strange rocks he now recognized as bone. The formations, half a
femur, a bit of rib, the tip of a rusted sword. Everyone was getting annoyed
at being in the dark.
     Elfiran put a heavy hand on Alduin's shoulder. "What is thet place? Tis
nay a name thet rolls off the tongue well."
     The old man couldn't tear his eyes from the wasted land, but cocked his
head in the high elf's direction. "It means 'Sea of Bone.' It has many other
names as well: Holm F'thathin, 'Heart's Hold;' and Duralgdur Th'Sollar, 'Lord
Th'Sollar's Stand.' The place is infamous. Supposedly, there is a name for it
for every Werre who died there.
     Tabanallis frowned. "What kind of name is 'Heart's Hold?'"
     The wizened scribe shrugged. "Possibly for all the blood spilled there.
Thoth Durghanti, the Sea of Bone, was the site of possibly the greatest battle
ever waged on the plains of Hammerfell. As I understand it, Lord Th'Sollar, a
mythical figure, had been slowly gaining ground in a war lasting over a
decade. His name appears in various stories near the end of the war, about
when the Werre first appear in Hammerfell. Oh, I almost forgot! The people of
Hammerfell were rising up against a consortium of mages called the Horned
Council."
     Alduin paused to point at the black bulk of the fortress hunched on the
crumpled hills beyond Twilight and J'layah.
     "That, my friends, is the Guardian Citadel. I do not know it's native
name, but it was the last line of defense for the Horned Council. The Werre
gathered all their number to break it, but instead of a few day's fight, a
seige developed that stretched into months, marked by constant skirmishes and
pitched battles. Summer is harsh there, but winter is harsher. In mid winter,
the Citadel was emptied. Instead of being idle, the forces in the Citadel had
multiplied, and beasts of pure magic, Denigroth believe?--" Alduin turned to
K'tarin for confirmation, but got none. "--The beasts descended upon the Werre
forces and the greatest and final battle for the Guardian Citadel ensued.
Also, the great First One was there, but I know nothing of it other than that
it fought for the Horned Citadel. Losses were horrific on both sides, and
though the Werre won, they hadn't the strength to take the field or secure the
fortress. The place was shunned thereafter. What you see is its legacy. Even
now, nothing lives there."
     As Alduin finished, J'layah kicked at a roundish rock. It dislodged and
rolled to a halt, revealing eye sockets. About the skull lay the faint
remnance of a helm. She lept back straight into Twilight, who regarded the
object with detachment. Suddenly, they both whirled around at a sound coming
from beyond the edge of the vision.
     Balefire drew in a deep breath. "Now I know how it is familiar. This
place is spoken of only in whispers. Werre-Bane."
     K'tarin farely bristled at the name. "Torith au Werre."
     Everyone tensed as J'layah and Twilight moved from their field of view
in wary crouches, weapons drawn.
     "Well, it seems thet there may be somethin' livin' there yet. I think we
best be gettin' there quickly. Whatever ken survive among bones ken nay be
wholesome."

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Alduin dor Lammoth