By Tetirs beard! A dwarf never turns down a drink!
Oloice and Clarice took advantage of Kajs momentary absence to whisper something, stopping the moment Kaj returned. As the pair drank, the man regarded Oloices face. His ruddy beard caught Kajs eyes, as it was clearly tinged with turnip juice, bushy and scruffy, with a very well-fashioned braid at the center. He had many wrinkles and a few scars. His eyebrows were as thick and messy as his hair, and the same shade of light brown.
After a brief sniff, he downed his glass in one go. Of course, a nice mug wouldve been better! said the dwarf, slightly grouchy.
Take it easy, Oloice; this stuff can put even a dwarf to bed! said Clarice, amused.
Alcohols the one thing that can best a dwarf! Im sure you know that by now! he replied proudly.
Kaj, take a seat. Oloice and I have a lot to tell you.
He did so, taking a stool and sitting at the foot of the bed. Consider me all ears.
Ill start telling you what Oloice told me yesterday, began Clarice. To make a long story shortafter two years, the forced coexistence of the Clans in Tetirstad is becoming unsustainable, because of the other dwarven cities under the mountains still invaded by narguts, as theyre called by dwarves. The internal struggles and reprisals have already begun. Moreover, its impossible to reach Vetmark; the mountain passes are blocked by snow, so we cant contact the dwarves of the Summits until spring. They cant help us. If we want to form an army, it remains of the essence to come to an agreement with Tetirstad.
Makes sense, said Kaj. Care to explain what a nargut is?
Narguts are creatures that pop up in many a dwarven legend, said Oloice, happy to explain. Theyre said to have been feeble little things, originally. They had soft white skin that could burn up in the sunlight, and pupil-less yellow eyes that glowed in the dark. They inhabited the darkest depths of the dwarves lost word, the mythical Tesgaran, and were taken on the great divine chariot that transported the dwarves to Elantion after Tesgarans destruction. As was their nature, they crept ever deeper, and the elven magic of Elantion transformed them. Their skin became stone-like, and tough as leather, while their bodies turned crooked and their backs hunched. Once peaceful and timid, they became aggressive and devious.
Oloices brother is conducting excavations in the Rainvale to bring to light the entrance to one of the abandoned cities, which was buried under a large landslide. I met Oloice and some other dwarves at the entrance of an old tunnel used by miners that leads into the vale, so as to obtain information on the excavations and whatever else is happening in Tetirstad. Not only did I run into some anurians on the way there, I got attacked by lalks on the way back and you know the rest.
I see, said Kaj, nodding.
I left in a hurry, Clarice continued, because I had to let Oloice know about encountering you, as I hope itll help us solve some of our problems.
Wait a sec, what do I have to do with anything?
I dont know yet; Im searching for the answer to that myself. What do you know about your family? Your parents? asked Clarice.
I was raised by the blacksmith of Lochbis. He adopted me when I was little more than a baby
That explains a lot, Clarice interrupted.
It does?
It does, said Clarice.
Wait, does the medallion you left me have anything to do with it? he asked, showing it to the two.
By the gods! she exclaimed in amazement, upon seeing the medallions faint glow.
What? said Kaj.
Oloice jumped onto his chair. Then you really did find it! he marveled at Clarice.
Yes she said, incredulous.
Anyone want to fill me in? asked Kaj, annoyed.
That medallion tells us Im right. That the intel was correct, replied the nalnir excitedly, pointing. Your true family lineage has its origins elsewhere, but I dont know much more
Kaj looked at the shining medallion at his neck, and then eyed her incredulously. What are you talking about? You mean to say you might know my real family?
I cant tell you what I dont know! she replied. You need to keep it hidden until were someplace else. Youll have to come with me to Nidath. Period.
Why should I? I could just take it off and toss it away! said Kaj, confused.
Because if you really want to know about your family, you have to trust me! said Clarice.
Oloice got his words in: Kaj, were both here for you at this point. I understand why youd be confused
And angry! said Kaj.
And angry, said the dwarf.
Kaj turned to Clarice: What about your leg? How can it already be almost healed? Not to mention the people at the sanctuary. Im sure it was you.
I have healing abilities, but I cant use them on myself, as they have no effect on me. I treated them because I wanted to happy?
Kaj nodded. He needed some fresh air, so he headed for the door. Give me some time. I need to think.
IV
Two days later, Clarice had fully recovered. She and Oloice had settled into the sanctuary, which was completely empty. The skies were grey and covered in heavy clouds, and it snowed for most of the day. Kaj decided to peek out the window, but he never caught sight of either of the two, and the snow and chill that had conquered the outside were not exactly a welcome vista. Then, suddenly, he saw a cloaked figure advancing rapidly in the storm. It was Clarice.
The elf knocked on the door, which Kaj promptly opened.
Youll let me in, right? she asked, trembling.
Of course! Warm yourself by the fire, he said, surprised.
Good grief, its a tempest out there! she said, rubbing her hands.
And not knowing where else to go, you ventured here, he said dryly.
Just as it appears. The elf looked at him and smiled, then concentrated again on warming her hands by the fire, taking off her cloak and placing it on the chair, before putting her gloves on the table.
Did you come to tell me about the big bad storm outside? asked Kaj, still a bit bitter.
I came here to give you this. She pulled out a crumpled letter. Its been in my pocket for too long, so its a bit worse for wear. When I found the medallion, I went back to Nidath to look into matters
Kaj took the parchment, and when he opened it, he realized it was a letter from the elven king, Yenven Hushblade. Skimming, he reached the point where Yenven wished Clarice success in her search for the medallions rightful owner (even if he didnt approve of her sheer fixation). Kaj looked up at her, and the nalnir stared at him, waiting for some sign. Kaj handed her back the letter, after which a disappointed expression dawned on her face.
Thats it? Thats your reaction? How about a little curiosity? I dont know why youre so hostile, but I wont let you destroy the dreams of everyone who wants to go home, and whos fighting to realize that dream, said Clarice. For a moment, she seemed not to know what to do, but then she put on her gloves and cloak back on, and pulled up her hood. Your journey to the Whitetrunk made an impression on me, but apparently Id deluded myself
What does that mean?
You demonstrated excellent battle skills, but you seem to lack everything else.
You dont know the first thing about me, Clarice, he protested. You have no right to judge me.
You dont know the first thing about me, Clarice, he protested. You have no right to judge me.
The elfs expression turned resigned. The medallion you wear around your neck is why Im here. Its the answer to everything, she explained. You have a day to decide, after which Ill be leaving.
With that, she opened the door and set forth back into the snowstorm. Rage burned inside hershe had risked her life and had had to give assurances to a man she didnt even know at the time to continue her research, and now she had to fight again, mustering all her strength not to abandon the village and return to her travels. She was almost starting to curse the day shed found that mysterious medallion.
She headed for the tavern, as she knew shed find Oloice there. The dwarf was sitting at a table by the sidelines, enjoying a plate of hot soup and a nice mug of ale. From time to time, he looked up to regard the distrusting elves from under his bushy eyebrows, without ever removing his head from the plate. When Clarice entered, the dwarf picked up from her expression that things had gone awry.
After the elf left, Kaj sat staring at the wall in front. He closed his eyes for a moment. He gripped the medallion tight in one hand; his curiosity was getting to him. What if shes right? he thought. Clarices words had piqued his curiosity more than he wished to admit. He drank mead until he felt sufficiently drunk, then he got up staggering, laying himself to bed and drifting off to sleep in no time.
*Far from Fenan, in the winding Spur Valley, the wagon of Supreme Necromancer Lyrus trundled toward the fort that was constructed next to the temple erected by the Fellowship of the Veil, incorporating it. His bony and wrinkled hand pulled lightly at the heavy fabric that obscured the interior of the carriage, to work out how long the journey would last. All that was visible from inside the small opening was his probing, evil red eye, which scanned the landscape for a while before the curtain closed again. The slopes of the Rugged Range were barren and steep, expanses of grass interspersed with screes and large boulders that had rolled down due to winter avalanches and summer landslides. The vast spruce woods that had reigned undisturbed until two years prior had been razed to the ground due to the battlefields rapacious demand for wood. The ancient path in Spur Valley had been enlarged and paved by tulvaren soldiers to allow for the constant and speedy passage of troops and wagons. The roads shape was reminiscent of a river, which at times flowed straight and at times meandered in fairly broad bights.
A few curves in the road ahead, the creaking of the heavy gate at the walls could be heard. The wagon, pulled by mighty horses, entered and proceeded quickly to the forts central corps. The great hall was lit only by torches and candles, as sunlight reached the interior. Lyrus was finally able to exit the wagon. The tulvar was very old, and was rumored to have far surpassed the 150-year mark. He was also very tall, with a bony body that made him appear slender, white hair, and fiery red eyes that seemed all the brighter compared to his dark attire.
Welcome back, Supreme Necromancer, said one of the Fellowship mages, visibly nervous.
The old man waved his hand and everyone moved aside. Stepping slowly, and accompanied by his long cane and the tinkling of his heavy, crystal-studded silver belt, he headed toward the corridor that accessed the temple. Upon reaching the portal, a stooped and slender being approached him, covered by a light cotton garment that had been mended and stained several times. The collar at his neck was the symbol of his condition, and he limped on his bare feet. It was Snort, Lyruss personal uggar, to whom he entrusted the belt and cane.
You know that dallying in this way is not good for you, my lord, said the mage shrilly.
Have you prepared everything? asked Lyrus.
Of course, as you commanded.
The old man went to the portal and neared the circle of crystals that kept it stable. He folded up the sleeve of his tunic, exposing his arm and the crystals he had set into his flesh. Then he stretched out his hand, and lightning flashed toward it. The crystals began to shine, and as their light strengthened, the elderly necromancer regained his strength.
Wretch! Lyrus shouted. Bring the sacrifice.
The uggar appeared, tugging an elven corpse by the rope around its neck. Arriving at the necromancer, he tied the rope to an iron ring planted in the floor.
I Snort, said Snort, pointing to himself. He handed the elderly tulvar a crystal chalice and oval metal plate containing an assortment of particular ingredients. Lyrus ignored that statement, regarding him contemptuously.
The ceremonial dagger, he ordered.
Snort obeyed, and handed him the dagger.
Now get out of my sight, said Lyrus.
Snort bowed precariously low before the necromancer, who, with a wave of his hand, judged the uggars presence superfluous. And so Snort dragged his feet out of the room.
Nobody could witness the ritual, and the tulvars outside the door, together with Snort, could only tremble and hope they would never end up in Lyruss hands. The ritual ended after a few hours, and the necromancer retired to his chambers, while the spy he had just created walked toward his destinationthe city of Nidath.
*Meanwhile, in Fenan, Kaj woke up late that same morning, feeling like his head was about to burst. He looked out a window and saw that it had stopped snowing. The sun timidly peeked out from behind the clouds, its bright rays blinding him for a second. He washed his face, and as he dried off, he found himself staring at his old trunk, which he hadnt opened since hed gotten back to Fenan. He needed to do it if he wanted to follow Clarice, as everything he needed was in there. He threw the towel on the bed, bent down in front of the trunk, and slowly opened its lid. As soon as he saw its contents, his heart skipped a beat. They were mementoes of times pastand they were all hed managed to recover from his prior home. The first thing he picked up was his old diary. His hands trembled, and he struggled to hold back tears. He remembered every single word. He opened it, and saw that period of his life flash before his eyes. A few pages in, he found the portrait. She was so beautiful. Hed drawn her while she was reading. Shed loved to read, he thought. He felt lost; the pain tore through his heart as he relived that terrible scene. Blood everywhere, as she lay pale on the ground. He found himself sitting on the floor with his diary in hand, and his shirt wet with tears. He wiped his eyes and pulled a bag out of the trunk. Inside it, there were still a few coins hed kept for remembrances sake, and a white scroll. His father taught him all the secrets a good blacksmith should know, like how to fight and how to forge swords. Kaj used to assist him in everything, and on the day of the assault on Lochbis, he had been bargaining for ore elsewhere. The last object in the trunk was his sword, which he had forged himself. It was his pride. Kaj grabbed the hilt and pulled it out of its sheathit was perfectly oiled, clean, and shiny. He saw his reflection on the blade, and, locking eyes with himself, he realized that he wasnt the man he once was. He got up and started getting dressed. He picked up his old leather armor, leg protectors, bracelets, tunic, gloves, and boots. He was amazed that everything still fit him perfectly. He tucked the sheath into his belt, and with another belt, he secured the sword in place. Then he slung the bag over his shoulder and took everything that could prove useful before finally fastening his cloak. In that moment, he felt invigorated.