Asarazul

Long before the City of Or was a name whispered through the mountain halls, and long before the undercity glowed red beneath the Scale, there was a gem—cut from the frozen depths of the Asara Plate, said to hold the stillness of a thousand winters.

This gem, Asarazul, is not officially acknowledged by the Council of Or. But among dwarves—particularly those of the Flatstone lineage—its story endures like a well-worn chisel.

Forged in a time of quiet conflict and silent trade, the gem was believed to have been hewn by the dwarves of the Asara Plate during an age when magic was newly stirring in the veins of the Scales. Though the records of that era are fractured, fragments of song and stonewall etchings suggest Asarazul passed through many hands and several borders, sometimes as a peace offering, other times as plunder.

By the time Or Flatstone founded the first shafts beneath what would become the City of Or, the gem had already lived through wars, marriages, exoduses, and perhaps betrayals. How it came into Or’s possession is a matter of speculation. Some say he won it in a wager of iron and verse, others claim it was gifted by a dying Asaran stonelord who foresaw Or’s legacy.

What is known—at least by those who claim to know anything at all—is that the gem has remained with the Flatstone family for many generations. In whispered tones, dwarves refer to it as Asarazul, a name old enough to be both reverent and dangerous. A name meaning “deep-blue truth” in the dialect of ancient forge-singers.

Many believe it rests in a vault near the Heartforge, sealed in mirrored stone and guarded not by lock or law, but by tradition and taboo. If it hums with resonance, or sings to the other Scales, only a select few have ever heard it.

And yet... some claim they’ve seen it. A glimmer in a councillor’s pocket. A ghostlight in the hands of a child on Election Day. A reflection in the tankard of an old bard who talks too much and remembers too well.

Asarazul may be a relic. It may be a myth. But to the dwarves of Or, it is something far more dangerous: a symbol with a name.