Dammaz Baraz
The Bitter Oath
From the Scroll of the Treasures of the World, as written by the Gale Caller Leandre Agua 2510
The men of Cathay and the dwarfs of the West have no great enmity for each other but no close friendship either. The dwarfs for their part cite the Cathayans' rule by dragons, their love of magic, and their friendship with the elves as signs that the Cathayans are not to be trusted. For their part the Cathayans have no great love of the dwarfs on account of their working the bodies of dragons into their craft, their destruction of the sacred groves of the world, too much love of beer and having dealt much more with the ravening raiders, murderers and slavers of the Dawi Zharr than the honorable force to the west as a cause to keep the stout folk well at a distance. As such there are few gifts of Dawi Runework so far to the east.
But there is one, one beautiful thing. A fine set of armor, mighty made and burning with Runes of great puissance. The Master Rune of Infernos, the Rune of Daemonward, and the Rune of Embers. All together they ensure that an aura of scintillating brilliant light seems to flow around each beautiful link of dark hard gromril, flowing like the river over stones in a multi-hued force of fire and light scouring off dirt and grime and shimmering beautifully. Further it may in a instant become like the snapping, fiery jaws of a dragon, slaughtering that which the son of a dragon hates and leaving behind that which he loves, with an especial hatred for the daemons; not even ash is left behind after the scouring, and yet those he fights beside are left untouched by that bright fire.
The armor itself is, as all dwarf work, beautiful and artistic. The eyes will first be drawn to the helm, a fairly simple helmet like that of the Thanes, a dome extending to cover all the way down to the cheeks. Like the helms of thanes too, there is a great decoration upon it, a beast's head. However unlike most thanes the head which rests upon it is that of a snarling dragon, supposedly in emulation of the dragon Zhao Ming for reasons which will become obvious fairly soon. The shoulders and upper arm are protected by great articulated plates of Gromril that shines bright in the noonday sun, engraved with iconography of the dragons; on the right a dragon dueling with a Keeper of Secrets, on the left a (Different?) dragon dueling with a Lord of Change. The forearms are protected by vambraces and gauntlets. A breast plate of Gromril red as a star bearing the symbol of his blessed Grandfather carved out of a sparkling red stone guards his chest, and from this drape bright golden scales that could turn aside the blow of a Daemon. Thus drapes to his knee, offering an unbreakable protection and ensuring that no matter how dreadful the foe, he shall not die.
It is known well enough how the Cathayans earned it, a sordid tale of treachery and redemption and sorrow. Brynoth Onearm, a noble of fair Karak Norn, was assailed by a Cult of Tzeench, and he and the champion each maimed the other: he took the manling's leg while the manling took his arm in a duel upon the River Brienne, the manling plummeting into the water even as Brynoth was wracked with all manner of pains and hallucinations.
Meanwhile, in fair Cathay an outcast was cast from his ancestral home to rot in the Groves of the Moon; a den of decay where those who could not live up to the burden of ancestry were placed to no longer shame their sacred ancestors in peace. For indeed Jin Jia was an outcast of a Shugengan, one who did not march to the call of his grandfather Zhao Ming even as he became like him in his willingness to experiment with his alchemy. It came to a head when his own sister, the flesh of his flesh, the blood of his blood, accused him of consorting with the Serpent even as she, herself, was the Serpent's champion, all in a ploy to gain prestige and power; and his own mother who had raised him cast him out, cast him aside, not enough to condemn him to death but enough to condemn him to rot.
So that Shugengan suffered and as he did noble Brynoth hunted, seeking the manling. For years he followed the trail, from the end of the river Brienne east, ever eastward, a trail of bodies and suffering left behind by the servant of Chaos even as they warped and warped by the touch of the wicked moon. Bodies of the innocent he saw and his resolve grew firmer and firmer, bleaker and bleaker, even as they left the rolling fields of fair Bretonnia, abandoned the forests of the Empire, saw the great cities of Kislev and left them behind, journeyed the Eastern Steppe, passed the Mountains of Mourn, killing foemen left behind by the true servant of evil all the while, until finally they came to the Warpstone Desert and there was no longer a place for Krugatz to run from his fate. The Throng of Brynoth prepared for battle even as the servant of Tzeench made his moves.
And as they had hunted, the Shugengan made himself ready. Ever sensitive to the touch of magical energy upon this world he read as much bleak lore as he could stomach, Betrayed Jin, along with his alchemy; and with that lore and that alchemy, so betrayed and so enraged he set himself to crafting a tool, of vengeance yes but also of righteousness. For ever did the Dragonblooded's mind worm with the touch of his Grandmother, the farthest Grandmother, and he knew the stink of Chaos was upon the world thick like a fog even if none would listen and so he made himself ready. He carved a shaft of Longma bone, and made a tassel from its tail that he strung about the shaft, and from the melted remnants of his mother's old sword, gifted to him long, long ago he forged a blade etched in alchemy, and planted that within the shaft; and so he made himself a Guandao, and he was ready.
Seeing a chance to make both the Serpent and the Dragon pleased, his sister attacked both Dwarf and Champion with her retinue, and the three came to battle. By rights the traitor should have won; the Daemons and Dwarfs, though separately mighty, were pinned down one way or another, while she had only to fight when she desired. Slaanesh was pleased. The world would have shaken to see what might have come of the melding of the might of Chaos and of the Celestial Dragon.
Then Jin arrived, bearing Traitor's Bane and atop his own Longma, screaming his hate to the world and challenging his sister. She was many things, but coward was not one of them, and so the two of them battled in the skies until with a mighty blow brother slew sister, and with that broke the bloodlust that had come upon them and they saw the Daemons and most hated them more than they could ever hate the Dwarfs and so the two broke the forces of Chaos upon the anvil of the dwarfs and the hammer of Cathay. To calm the Grudge that stood Jin offered up those wretches broken to Chaos to the tender mercies of the Dwarfs and then turned aside to the village, Tai-Tzu, to burn it of the corruption that festered within.
And when that was done he left for Shang-Yang, and the court of his Grandfather. He has not returned, nor spoken to his mother, since; and that was a very, very long time ago even by the standards of the Dwarfs.
Years passed and a gift was sent by the Dwarfs, the armor, Dammaz Baraz, for it was a bleak matter even by their grim standards; though its provenance of more detail cannot be ascertained certainly. Some hold that the Runelord Kragg the Grim made the thing, since if some were to be believed every questionable item was made by the Runelord to ensure it was done right. Others that it was one of the first creations of Thorek Ironbrow, the first sign that he would be someone to watch though the timeline there is...questionable. Finally there are those among the Dwarfs who pin it as a creation of the bleak Bolgi Keenwit, descended of Bolgi Dolgison and so from him an heir to the vast Runelore of Snorri Gift-Giver. All have problems: Kragg's xenophobia, Thorek's age, and the mythological nature of Bolgi.
In any case, the armor has become a symbol of Cathay's hatred of Chaos given physical form, by the skillful hands of the Dwarfs.
Self-medicating after reading awful things by writing up cool Dwarf artifacts. Might make this a series, the artifacts the Dwarfs have given to non-traditional allies as a token of esteem. Probably not good but I couldn't leave it not done.
