The sounds of steel on steel echo through the dark passages, competing with screams of anger and pain. In the midst of the din, a lone dwarven warrior stands in the darkened passage, weapon drawn and waiting for the fighting and death to reach him. The passage bears the signs of great age and exceptional craftsmanship, with beautiful mosaics and intricate rune patterns covering every surface. It appears to be more a shrine then a thoroughfare. As the warrior waits, the sounds of battle grow closer. At the far end of the passage another dwarf, obviously wounded, hurries toward the warrior.
    The wounded dwarf calls to the warrior “Eaden, the gate is lost, we couldn’t hold it. The trolls broke the barriers and hordes of orcs poured through. There were too many to stop!”
    Eaden’s gaze does not waver, scanning the far end of the passage for the first sign of the invaders. “Melgand, go back to hold and tell them that I have sealed the north passage.”
    Melgand looks up, concern in his eyes. “Eaden, no, I will stay and seal the passage.”
    A small smile appears on Eaden’s face. “I thank you my friend, but mine is the duty to protect the north passage and the hold. I have been entrusted by mighty Dorogin with the words of power.”
    Melgand takes Eagen’s arm, “then I will stand with you.”
    “No my friend, you must bring word to the hold and I would ask a great favor. My son will soon be of age to stand in defense of the hold. I want him to wield the weapon of his family.” Eagen hands his Urutuk to his wounded friend.
    “I will do this for you and train him as my own son. He will know of your deeds and the honor you bring to our clan.”
    “Quickly now, you have to clear the passage before I speak the words.”
    As Melgand disappears down the passage a lumbering form fills the end of the passage; a massive cave troll covered in blood. Behind it, dozens of orcs beat their weapons on their shields and advance slowly, cautiously toward Eagen. The dwarf drops to his knees and starts a prayer to the spirit of the rock, mighty Dorogin. As the troll and the orcs advance, the runes carved into the walls and ceilings begin to glow. A noise far louder than that of the orcs fills the passage, the voice of Dorogin has arrived. The orcs scream and try to cover their ears as the whole mountain seems to shake. Where the runes covered the walls and ceilings, fissures form as if the rock is being torn apart by giant claws. In moments tons of rock collapse, sealing the passage and burying the Eagen and the orcs together in an eternal tomb.

    The Voice of Dorogin is a tremendously powerful series of runes the when activated creates a series of localized earthquakes (see earthquake spell). The runes are carved along natural fault lines in the rock to ensure the earthquake spells will seal a passage. The runes are used as a last line of defense to protect a hold when its outer defenses have fallen. The rune is usually activated by a command word in the form of a prayer to Dorogin, the great spirit of the mountain. The dwarves believe the rumbling of the ground is Dorogin speaking to his chosen people.