The Dunder Dwarves, like all in Dwarvia, drank only the delicious milk of the halisaur, which were large, winged reptilian creatures said to be a type of luck dragon. They didn't really know why, but no one in Dunder village had ever cared to drink anything else. There was little reason to. Every dwarf owned his own halisaur. In fact, by law each was given one at birth, and the town had been peaceful as long as anyone could remember. But legend tells us it wasn't always that way...
In an earlier age halisaurs were not so common. In fact, they were only owned by a single family of rich dwarves named the Drubens, who kept them locked in secret pastures guarded by menacing fear dragons that would soar above the towering pasture walls. At this time the milk from the halisaurs was sold to the dwarves; not just the ones from Dunder village, but the whole country of Dwarvia.
The Drubens had plenty of land, and sold their milk at a handsome price. But managing the halisaurs was a constant fiasco. It just so happens halisaurs are easily disgruntled when arranged into herds, and many bizarre accidents would plague the farm when the proportion of herders was too low. Workers would succumb to the most miraculous misfortunes including lightning strikes, ant invasions, spontaneous quicksand accidents and even miniature tornadoes. Because of this, the number of farm workers was never enough to properly tend to the necessary work. Few workers dared work for the Drubens.
Eventually, after an unfortunate dandelion incident, the Drubens decided they must raise wages to attract more workers. Deciding the pay was worth the risk, hundreds of new herders began tending to the pastures, and soon the disasters mellowed in frequency and severity. The perpetual mayhem was diminished to a dull roar of minor misfortunes.
But to compensate for the higher wages the Drubens had no choice but to raise the price of milk. But, the price required was so high that all of Dwarvia revolted. They organized an army, defeated the fear dragons, and released the entire hoard of halisaurs. The people of Dwarvia were surprised to find that there was precisely one halisaur for each dwarf, and each was delighted to provide milk for one master. And this is how every dwarf got their halisaur.
Then the halisaurs became more productive and all of Dwarvia celebrated with great festivals. Cheerful and well-mannered, many of the halisaurs began producing more milk than necessary - more than any one dwarf could drink. So, those with extra milk sold it for whatever price they could get. Some halisaurs produced more milk than others, so there was always some dwarf willing to buy another's extra.
As the years passed, the halisaur's cooperative nature became obvious. They were peaceful, docile creatures along side their master, and the dwarves became affectionate towards their halisaur, feeding and caring for it appropriately. There was a mysterious aura about them. For example, throughout Dwarvia, one halisaur was always born for every baby dwarf, and never more than one. This nature of the halisaur was never entirely understood, but it continued for so many years, that all dwarves knew they could count on a halisaur at birth or shortly after.
Caring for a halisaur is not always easy, and some dwarves were better suited for it than others. Many who became occupied with their farm, business or other endeavor left friends or family to care for theirs, which the halisaurs would tolerate begrudgingly. It was simply a fact of life that cheap and plentiful halisaur milk was always available, and generations of dwarves passed until this everyday part of their culture was almost an afterthought.
One day a Dwarf named Dwain was approached by a famished traveler from a distant part of Dwarvia. The visitor, who called himself Ruben, claimed to have lost his halisaur. Never had Dwain imagined one could possibly lose their own halisaur - it was unheard of. Ruben was invited to stay with Dwain, and was given milk and restored to health. Dwain and his wife Darla felt very sorry for poor Ruben, who cried and complained often about his loss. Ruben would often lament that he couldn't continue his journy home without a halisaur to accompany him. Finally, after much discussion, Dwain and Darla decided they would give one of their halisaurs to Ruben. Ruben at first rejected their offer, but Dwain and Darla finally assured Ruben they could share the milk from their remaining halisaur. Finally, Ruben accepted, and took Dwain's halisaur for the journey home. As a return gift, Dwain and Darla were given ten gold pieces for their generosity.
At first, Dwain and Darla were reprimanded by all in town. No one had ever abandoned their halisaur. But, when they explained that it was given to replace the one lost by a starving, destitute traveler, they were forgiven. Their punishment was sharing the milk from one dragon, which happened to be enough for them both anyway. But others in town heard that the traveler had paid ten gold pieces, which was quite a lot of money. Soon, another was rumored to sell his halisaur for an amazing one hundred gold pieces. Over the next several years, many sold their halisaurs, and most of them were sold to rich, but starving travelers who had claimed to have lost theirs.
Decades passed, and dwarves continued to sell their halisaurs until they were very rare in Dwarvia. It was discovered that Ruben had never lost his halisaur, but swindled it for the Druben family who had decided to go back into the business of herding halisaurs. By this time so many dwarves had been born, and therefore so many halisaurs, that great islands and even small continents were devoted to their management. And the Drubens changed their name to the Drabens, and they bought all the halisaurs they could and herded them on these islands. Despite effective new pacification methods the halisaur compounds were notorious for freakish accidents, and the price of milk again began to go up.
Eventually, the secluded Dunder village was the only place in Dwarvia that still contained any halisaurs. And this is where our story begins.
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1 comment:
Very creative :) I especially liked the part about the freakish accidents towards the beginning. I could only imagine what a dandelion incident would be :P
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