The Song of the Glassborn
(An old miner’s tale, common in taverns and long carved into dwarven oral tradition before Nagburim revealed itself again.)
Long ago, when the Last War split the earth and fire swallowed the mountains, there was a clan of dwarves who fled the world of blood and ruin. They went downward, ever downward, into caverns lit by stone-stars — crystals so bright they shone without flame.
It is said these dwarves drank the light of those stones as others drink ale, until it filled them body and soul. Their eyes turned to diamonds, their skin to glass, and their hearts burned like lanterns trapped within cages of quartz. They became the Glassborn, dwarves no longer, but something sharper, harder, more eternal.
The tales disagree on what came next. Some say they shunned metal and cloth alike, striding naked through their glowing halls, for they had no need of mortal trappings. Others claim they coated themselves in gold leaf, turning every flaw into a vein of beauty, each mark a badge of pride rather than shame. Still others insist they dressed in silver armor, to hide the shame of cracks and fractures spreading through their bodies.
Children are told that the Glassborn cannot eat or drink — but instead feast upon music. That their voices, when raised in song, sound like flutes and bells ringing in perfect harmony, and that they could split mountains by singing together. Sailors even whispered that if you held a conch shell to your ear, you might catch the echoes of their hymns, still drifting through the stone.
As for their fate, the myths are even wilder. Some believe the Glassborn ascended into the stars, their bodies too bright for the underworld. Others say they turned brittle as old ice, crumbled to dust, and became the sparkling veins of crystal that miners strike today. And there are darker tales still — that they march in silence deep below, their hearts glowing like coals, waiting for the day they return to reclaim the treasures men have stolen from the bones of the world.
So the miners still mutter: “Strike no crystal vein without a prayer. For if you awaken the Glassborn, they’ll take the light from your eyes and leave your bones in the dark.”
Part of the Lumia canon, drawn from the LuminariMUD world-lore project.