The silence in the Chamber of Inquiry stretched, thick with unspoken questions and the weight of dwarven scrutiny. High Loremaster Thrain's ancient eyes seemed to see more than Lunrik was comfortable with, while Forgemaster Borin's stern gaze promised no leniency, and Master Artificer Gyra's sharp focus practically vibrated with intellectual curiosity about the unknown technology. Lunrik knew his next words were critical.
"I will tell you what I know, High Loremaster," Lunrik began, keeping his voice steady, respectful, projecting sincerity he hoped was convincing. "But my knowledge is limited. I am… was… an omega of the Dravenwolf clan, living isolated in the northern forests. My Stigma manifested years ago, bringing with it… fragmented memories, confusing instincts." He paused, carefully constructing a partial truth. "Knowledge of events, people, places I shouldn't possess. It made me an outcast, feared even within my own pack."
This seemed to capture their interest. Thrain leaned forward slightly. "Fragmented memories? From whom? From where?"
"I believe… from a past life," Lunrik admitted, treading carefully. This was the most dangerous part. "Perhaps an ancestor. Someone connected to the Banehallow line, to the curse." He avoided mentioning Alaric directly. "These memories intensified after the recent Throne War, after Kaedor Ashfang claimed the throne." He saw Borin stiffen slightly at the mention of the current ruler. "The memories showed me the brutality of his consolidation of power, the hunting of other marked heirs."
"Such as the Frostmane runt?" Borin grunted.
"Yes," Lunrik confirmed. "My companion, Kaelith – she is granddaughter to Faelan Woodwise, who holds ancient Dravenwolf lore – felt compelled to act when we heard Eryndor Frostmane had escaped the White River attack and was being hunted. We traveled south intending to find him, perhaps offer aid, or at least gather intelligence on Kaedor's forces."
"A noble, if foolish, endeavor for an omega and a huntress," Thrain commented mildly, his expression unreadable. "And you encountered these unknown hunters when?"
Lunrik recounted their encounter near the glacier, omitting the dragon fight for now, focusing on the hunters' appearance, their technology, the scanner detecting Eryndor, the non-lethal capture attempt, and crucially, the mention of scanning for "Banehallow emissions." He described the energy net that trapped Kaelith, the rifle's effect, and the leader's apparent demise leading to the other two fleeing. He presented the retrieved rifle as a fortunate acquisition during the chaos.
Master Artificer Gyra listened intently, occasionally interrupting with sharp technical questions. "The scanner – did it emit audible pulses? Visible light spectra? Did you notice any atmospheric distortion near it?" "The energy net – describe the 'tendrils'. Were they coherent energy, or particulate?" "The rifle discharge – you say it sparked and smoked upon your attempt to activate? Interesting. Potential incompatibility, power cell depletion, or perhaps… bio-authentication locked?" Her mind was clearly dissecting the technological aspects, seeking data points.
Lunrik answered as best he could, relying on his observations and Alaric's residual technical aptitude where applicable, while feigning ignorance on deeper principles. "The rifle felt… inert in my hands. Perhaps damaged in the leader's fall, as I said."
"And Magdra Ashgrim's involvement?" Forgemaster Borin interjected, bringing the focus back to the more immediate political threat. "You overheard her scouts mention she seeks an entrance into Grimfang Deep? That she believes the Frostmane heir holds knowledge?"
"Yes," Lunrik confirmed. "They spoke of old maps, of Magdra's orders to Captain Vorlag to secure an entrance in the Peaks, possibly near the 'Whispering Ice Pass', which Eryndor later mumbled about. They seemed to believe Eryndor's family possessed ancestral knowledge of such routes."
Thrain and Borin exchanged a significant look. The mention of a specific pass name clearly resonated. "Frostmane legends," Thrain murmured thoughtfully. "Often dismissed as faerie tales by surface dwellers, yet sometimes containing kernels of truth, twisted by time." He looked back at Lunrik. "Magdra Ashgrim reaching into our domain based on such legends is… audacious. She courts disaster, meddling with forces she does not comprehend."
"These hunters," Master Artificifier Gyra mused, tapping a finger on the stone table. "Targeting Banehallows, wielding advanced tech, appearing simultaneously with Magdra's push towards sealed dwarven territory… the timing seems… convenient. Or orchestrated."
"You suspect a connection?" Lunrik asked, genuinely curious himself now. Could Magdra be allied with this unknown faction? Or were they competitors, both drawn to the same region for different reasons?
"Speculation is pointless without data," Gyra snapped dismissively, though her eyes still held a thoughtful gleam.
"Indeed," High Loremaster Thrain agreed smoothly. "What matters is the verifiable threat. Magdra Ashgrim seeks to breach our borders, likely using the Frostmane as a key. Unknown technological forces are operating near our domain, hunting specific bloodlines for unknown reasons. Your presence here, werewolf, is a direct consequence of these intersecting conflicts."
He paused, his gaze steady on Lunrik. "You have provided… fragments. Plausible fragments, corroborated partially by Forgemaster Borin's initial assessment at the Gate and the existence of the damaged rifle. However, much remains unclear. Your true identity, the full nature of your 'memories', the reason for your companion's unwavering loyalty despite your admitted strangeness…" He let the implications hang. "And the matter of the dragon."
Lunrik tensed. He hadn't mentioned the dragon.
"Forgemaster Borin's report mentioned significant environmental damage near the glacier," Thrain continued calmly. "Scorched earth consistent with dragonfire. And extreme duress signals from the Ashfang moments before the Gate sensors detected your approach alongside the unknown hunters. An encounter occurred, did it not?"
Lunrik hesitated. Lying about the dragon felt incredibly risky. They had likely detected its presence, the energy discharges, the deaths. "Yes, High Loremaster," he admitted quietly. "A dragon attacked while the hunters were engaging the Ashfang and attempting to capture Eryndor. It… it seemed drawn by the conflict. Or perhaps grief." He recounted the Ashfang scout's words about the "sighing" dragon.
Thrain nodded slowly, his expression grave. "The Skyrend drakes grow restless. Your surface wars spill over, disturbing ancient balances. This complicates matters further."
He fell silent again, seemingly conferring mentally with Borin and Gyra, or perhaps simply contemplating the tangled web of information. Lunrik waited, acutely aware of the wardens standing impassively behind him, aware of the immense weight of the mountain above and the judgment being formed within this chamber.
Finally, Thrain spoke. "Your situation is precarious, Banehallow-marked." He used the term deliberately, acknowledging the curse without naming Lunrik specifically. "You possess information we deem valuable regarding external threats. Your companion possesses skills potentially useful within these Peaks. The Frostmane possesses knowledge, however fragmented, that our enemies actively seek."
He leaned forward slightly. "The Guild Council requires stability on its borders. Magdra Ashgrim's ambitions cannot be allowed to proceed unchecked. The nature and intent of these unknown hunters must be ascertained. Therefore… a conditional arrangement may be proposed."
Conditional arrangement? Lunrik felt a flicker of hope, quickly tempered by caution. Dwarven bargains were likely as unyielding as their mountains.
"You, and your companions, will remain under Grimfang Deep's… protection," Thrain continued, the word 'protection' sounding suspiciously like 'custody'. "You will cooperate fully with our inquiries. Master Artificer Gyra will require your assistance in analyzing the retrieved technology and perhaps identifying the hunters, should you encounter them again. Forgemaster Borin may require your… unique perspective… on navigating the surface threats near our borders."
He paused, his eyes locking onto Lunrik's. "In return for this cooperation, Grimfang Deep will… consider… offering temporary sanctuary, and perhaps, addressing the mutual threat posed by Magdra's incursion and the unknown hunters. The Frostmane's knowledge of passes will be secured – from him, and from those who pursue him."
It wasn't freedom. It wasn't an alliance. It was a carefully worded, conditional imprisonment with enforced cooperation, driven entirely by dwarven self-interest. But it was better than summary execution or being thrown back out onto the glacier. It offered a chance – a slim chance – to learn more, to potentially influence events, maybe even find a way to truly help Eryndor and reunite with Kaelith under slightly less hostile circumstances.
"I… accept the arrangement, High Loremaster," Lunrik said, choosing his words carefully. "We will cooperate, provided our safety, and that of Eryndor Frostmane, is assured while under your protection."
Thrain gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "Grimfang Deep honours its agreements, werewolf, however conditional. Your safety is assured, as long as your cooperation remains… satisfactory." He gestured dismissively to the wardens. "Escort Surface-Gamma-Three back to detention. He will be summoned again when required. And inform Master Artificer Gyra when the damaged rifle is ready for her preliminary assessment."
The wardens stepped forward. The audience was over. Lunrik offered a respectful nod to the council members and allowed himself to be escorted out of the Chamber of Inquiry, back towards the sterile confines of his cell. He had offered fragments of truth, enough to pique their interest and secure temporary survival. But he knew this was just the beginning. He was now a piece in the dwarves' complex game, played deep beneath the gears of the mountain, the stakes higher and more dangerous than ever.