The Dwarf King of Salzburg

The Hidden Kingdom

Far below the bustling streets of Salzburg, past the labyrinth of forgotten catacombs, lay Undermount—a city of fire and stone. Its walls were carved from the very heart of the mountain, illuminated by the soft glow of enchanted gemstones embedded in the rock. The air hummed with the rhythm of hammers striking anvils, and the scent of burning coal and molten metal filled the underground halls.

For centuries, the dwarves of Undermount thrived in secret, masters of their craft. Their forges produced weapons sharper than any known to men, their artisans sculpted treasures fit for gods, and their mines yielded gems so pure they put the stars themselves to shame.

King Laurenz was unlike any dwarf before him—wise beyond his years, cunning as a fox, and just as kind as he was fierce. He believed in harmony, in balance. Though he ruled beneath the earth, he understood the necessity of trade with the world above.

For many years, he made careful alliances with human merchants, trading in secret. Gold for wheat, gems for wine, iron for silk. A delicate truce existed between dwarves and men, held together by Laurenz’s careful diplomacy.

But peace is like glass—strong yet brittle. And when greed sinks its claws into the heart of men, glass shatters.

One evening, a rider arrived from above, bearing a scroll sealed with the sigil of Duke Leopold of Austria.

The Duke’s Ultimatum

The grand hall of Undermount fell silent as the decree was read aloud:

_"By order of His Grace, Duke Leopold of Austria, sovereign of Salzburg and its surrounding lands, the people of the mountain are to make themselves known and swear fealty to the crown. Henceforth, all riches yielded from beneath the city belong to the Duke, and a tribute must be paid in gold, silver, and gemstones."_

_"Refusal will be considered an act of treason."_

The court erupted in outrage. Dwarves were no strangers to battle, but this was an insult beyond measure.

“Swear fealty?” bellowed Thrain Ironfist, one of Laurenz’s most trusted warriors. “To a man who sits in his stone palace and covets what he did not earn?”

Laurenz raised his hand, commanding silence. His face, usually so composed, was grim. He stood slowly, every movement deliberate, his deep voice echoing through the chamber.

“Return to your Duke,” he said to the messenger, “and tell him this: We are no men’s subjects. The wealth of Undermount belongs to its people. If the Duke wishes to claim it, let him come and take it himself.”

The knight hesitated, his face pale. He had delivered messages of war before, but never to a king who stared him down like death itself. With a stiff bow, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the darkness of the tunnels.

The moment he left, Laurenz turned to his council.

“This is only the beginning,” he murmured.

And he was right.

War from Above

Winter’s breath swept through Salzburg, carrying with it the first signs of war. The Duke’s armies came in waves, their torches flickering like fireflies against the snowy night.

They dug at the mountainside, searching for the hidden entrances to Undermount. They brought pickaxes and hammers, hoping to carve their way into the dwarven kingdom and claim its treasures.

But dwarves were the true masters of the mountain. They knew its veins, its weaknesses, its every hidden passage. For every tunnel the humans dug, the dwarves collapsed another. For every bridge they tried to cross, another trap was laid.

Duke Leopold’s men fought against ghosts—against an enemy they could not see, an enemy who struck from the shadows and vanished without a trace.

For three long months, the siege continued. And still, Undermount stood, unbroken.

Until, one fateful night, the unthinkable happened.

The Fall of Undermount

A human scout—Gregor Falkenrath, a man known for his cunning—discovered something the dwarves had long forgotten.

An old mining shaft, abandoned decades before, one that led straight into the heart of Undermount.

Before dawn, Leopold’s forces flooded the tunnels, pouring into the underground city like a tide of steel and fire.

Screams filled the air as dwarves rushed to defend their home. Hammers clashed against swords. Blood stained the golden streets. King Laurenz led the charge, his great axe carving through the enemy ranks, his eyes burning with fury.

But they were outnumbered. No amount of skill could turn the tide of an army so vast.

And so, Laurenz made a choice—one that would be remembered for generations to come.

The Final Act

Wounded and bleeding, Laurenz retreated to the sacred chamber of the Earthstone—the heart of the dwarven kingdom. A crystal unlike any other, pulsing with ancient magic, gifted to the dwarves by the mountain itself.

With his last breath, he placed his hands upon it and whispered the words of the old kings.

The mountain roared in response.

Tunnels collapsed. Stone shattered. The halls of Undermount crumbled as the magic of the Earthstone sealed them away, trapping both dwarves and invaders alike.

King Laurenz gave his life so that his people’s legacy would not fall into the hands of men.

And just like that, Undermount was no more.

The Legend Lives On

Centuries have passed since that fateful night.

The city of Salzburg still stands, its people unaware of the kingdom that sleeps beneath their feet. Some say the ghosts of dwarves still walk the tunnels at night, their whispers carried through the wind. Others claim that the great treasures of Undermount remain buried, waiting for a worthy soul to uncover them.

And if you venture deep into the old catacombs, into the darkness where no light reaches…

You may still hear it.

The sound of a hammer striking stone.

The last echoes of a king who refused to bow.

For legends never truly die.

The End.