“In this Hold we Remember.
We remember every slight, every offense, every injury. We remember the old Enemy and we remember the new, the ones who offered the tools for the crimes committed. We remember those who would call them gods or friends. Cohorts to Dragons, parasites of the world, insults to worthy existence, we remember and we say; bring War to all Strangers.”
This is the only discernible Memory above the gates, high on the slopes of the mountain range that marks the start of the Weaver Courts, where lies Ghor’Domn, the Domain of Strangers. It is an insult of a name for all Dweghom but it is a name that all Dweghom remember.
If the Halls of Ghor’Domn once remembered the time and events that gave it this name, the Mnemantic inscriptions of these Memories have long been defaced. Gone are as well the treasures of the dragon rook that stood in its place before it and gone are even the bodies of the Ancestors which were sealed in their houses. Still, the Dweghom remember its name, even as they prefer to call it Bebdhose, the One Which Fell. All but those who live in it and have paid in blood for the right to do so. Adhya, their Raegh, has seen to this. She has taught her people that the name must be kept, worn as a badge of honor and a fire to fuel their unending war against all Exiles.
Whether it originally fell to the Weavers or the Spires it remains unknown but when the Dweghom came to reclaim it, the Spires held it. Adhya was a Thane then, one of the twenty four that led the March from the Holds of the East, with the permission of three different Raeghs from three different Holds. Their missive was simple: reclaim Bebdhose.
The March had come prepared for a siege to last years, if not decades. It lasted three days. On the first day, the Dweghom began the construction of a walled encampment and watchtowers, to ensure that reinforcements from the Spire of the Towering Man in the South would not flank them during an assault. On the second day, plans for tunnels to infiltrate the Halls were drawn, as the Dweghom knew firsthand how easy it was to defend a Hold’s Gates. Before the dawn of the third day, Adhya and her following gained control of the gate in a surprise assault, hanging the head of the Abomination she had bested to signal for their comrades to attack en masse. It took more time for the Hold to be cleared entirely than Adhya needed to plan and execute the attack that reclaimed the Hold.
Many claim that the Siege was but the first battle of a war that has not ended since. They are correct. Adhya’s passionate hatred towards the Exiles was not quenched by the reclamation of the Hold. Named Raegh for her victory, she has led Ghor’Domn to one assault after the other, against the Spires, against the Weavers and against any human that ever dared to try and settle in the slopes of the mountain-range. What respite Adhya’s enemies have found for over six centuries is only due to the internal struggles of her Hold but, overall, her people have enjoyed unprecedented unity in their efforts, united under a single banner and against multiple common foes.
Some speculate that this is her goal: to provide a constant, common enemy and keep her Hold from suffering the same fate as most others, avoiding the curse of all Dweghom. But Adhya would be the first to admit that this so-called curse neither troubles nor concerns her; for her, there is no such thing. The enemies of the Dweghom are clear in her mind; the Dragons, of course, should any of them still living dares to resurface. The Spires who provided the tools for the sins of the Dragons. The Weavers who conspired with them. The humans, those wretched remnants of a decadent Dominion, who mirrored the Dragon depravities and who now, rumors claim, cohort with the Spires. Even the Nords who worshiped those foul parasites and accepted their “gifts” as divine blessings.
The enemies of the Dweghom are all who have slighted them. And Adhya remembers them all.