The Throne Uncarved

Deep within the central caldera of the Dwarven Underhold lies a vast chamber known as Hall Dravkarrin, or “The Heart Cavern.” Within it stands a colossal pedestal of raw stone — obsidian-veined granite — intended to house the next true Throne of All Clans. Yet, despite centuries of ambition and planning, the throne remains unfinished. Not a single chisel mark has touched the pedestal. Not one craftsman has dared carve it. The idea was born in the aftermath of the Fracture War, when the seven clans—long divided by feuds, secrets, and subterranean skirmishes—signed the Accord of the Chainlink, vowing to reunite under a single monarch chosen by all, not just by lineage. The throne was to be carved once harmony had truly been restored, its form shaped by artisans from each clan in equal measure. But every generation since has found some reason to delay—tensions over trade rights, disagreements about ritual precedence, suspicions of sabotage, or even simple artistic pride. Now, the pedestal is ringed by scaffolds, stone benches, and an ever-growing number of proposed blueprints—none yet agreed upon. Young dwarves whisper it is cursed. Elders say it is patient. Some worry the longer it remains uncarved, the more fragile the Accord becomes, as though unity without symbolism is no unity at all. And yet, visitors to the Hall Dravkarrin describe a strange reverence in its silence. The unfinished throne has become more than an absence—it is a question left unanswered, a stone heart waiting to beat, and a monument to the difficulty of true unity. Until the day the clans come together as one, the throne will wait… as it always has. In recent years, a growing movement known as the Stonebound has emerged, led mostly by younger dwarves frustrated by political stalemates. They argue that leaving the throne unfinished dishonours the ancestors who fought to forge the Accord, and that the act of carving it—however imperfectly—is the real path to unity. They've begun staging quiet vigils around the pedestal, leaving chisels wrapped in coloured ribbons representing each clan. While the ruling council tolerates these symbolic protests for now, the older generation remains divided: some feel inspired by the passion of the youth, while others fear the throne will be defaced or claimed unrightfully. One thing is clear—the longer the stone sits silent, the louder the voices calling for change become.