EPILOGUE
Kodor stood atop the castle, overlooking the works going on. The battlefield was still obvious even after all these years, a scar on the earth that wouldn't heal. It served as a reminder, however, of what had happened here.
There had been discussion, amongst many, of whether the fortress should be abandoned. In the end, most of the civilian population had left, and the fortress had fully fallen into the hands of the military. Kodor himself was the last vestige of governance left here.
There were still some workers, though. The fortress' masons were busily deconstructing the hammer tower, and building a fortification atop the pit. The Fortress had been turned into a training ground for the entire Dwarven Kingdom, and was being rebuilt to stand guard against all threats in the south - goblins, kobolds, and whatever else might come out of that pit one day.
Nist Akath had, by being unassailable, reshaped the world. The Goblins, weakened and lost without their god, fell back under the might of the newly empowered Dwarven Army. The Elves, mad as they were, had cut down thousands and thousands of trees in an attempt to prevent the Dwarves from doing the same, and the humans had entirely lost control of their economy.
But what of Olon? Retaining the powers of a God, he had found himself growing bored. When the last of his children had fully grown, he had left riding the dragon that had been imprisoned in the fortress for so many years. The last dragon in the world, it was said. True to his style, Olon had forced it to walk everywhere.
Kodor had not heard much since then. The purging of goblin armies, and the destruction of megabeasts were the occassional rumours that drifted back to him, as well as the appearance of new religions based around a dragon-riding dwarf.
He strongly suspected that his brother was attempting to take the fight to a whole new level. He wondered if Armok was at all worried.