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Authors: Joel Babbitt
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way. Could this stranger
possibly be right? In his heart he longed to become an elite warrior. Was
this his chance? One task and elite warrior status? It almost seemed too easy,
certainly much easier than a year of training followed by a competition. The
more Trallik’s mind dwelt on the strange conversation, the more hope of the
future began to burn within his heart.
Not far down the passage, Mynar the Sorcerer
smiled to himself as he walked away. This yearling was but a pawn, but he
needed pawns to further his plans… plans which did not depend on his barely
loyal student Khee-lar Shadow Hand.
Chapter 5
– Meetings and Mysteries
T he
third gong rang out through the great common chamber long before light spilled
forth, like wash water splashed on the ground from the entrance to the large
common chamber ahead of Durik and Keryak, ruining their heat vision. The
sudden adjustment from the lightless caverns, where their only vision had been
the white and gray of heat variations, to the bright world of color was
discomforting.
The very poignant memory of meeting Kiria for the
first time had only grown in Durik’s consciousness, though he’d tried to
contain his interest as much as possible. Despite his self-discipline,
however, Durik had been subtly probing his friend for what he might know about
the mysterious young female. He quickly found that Keryak knew nothing more
than that she was the daughter of the Lord of the Gen, then the stark light and
multitudinous noise of the common chamber cut the rest of the conversation
short.
Through squinted eyes they saw the many kobolds
that thronged the area, conducting matters of daily life. Lining the edges of
the great cavern was a myriad of small shops. Most were large, heavy wooden
closets set in the sand with doors that, when open, were where storeowners
would stand to hawk their wares to the public. Several larger structures had
been constructed to house wool, mutton or ham, or other bulk goods as well.
But there was only one shop carved into the wall
of the cavern.
They crossed to the far side of the common
chamber, and approached Goryon’s blacksmithy. The pair walked quickly, passing
through the rough-hewn doorway into the smithy’s dim interior. Dark, lustrous
light from the opening in the forge mound painted all with a red hue. A large
kobold, the scales on his forearms and snout blackened by years of standing
over fickle cinders, was pounding a long, thin strip of metal into a curved
shape on an anvil next to the forge. A yellow beam from the center of the fire
reflected crimson on the rust red scales of his chest and head. Behind the
sweating form of the muscular kobold loomed an orc, who was taller seated than
they were standing. In one hand was a sharpening stone and in the other a set
of tongs holding a spear tip, which he was examining by the light of the forge.
Durik and Keryak stopped just inside the entrance to the large shop.
“Greetings, Master Goryon,” Durik called between
strikes of the hammer. His face was unworried, showing that he found
acceptance here, despite the uniqueness of his bronze scales. The large kobold
at the anvil stopped pounding and brushed the sweat from his eyes with his
brawny forearm, smearing soot across his snout as he blinked at the pair of
yearlings.
“Welcome, yearlings,” answered Goryon. “My son
Gorgon and the others recently arrived and are in our quarters.” Goryon
paused, remembering something, “Durik, come. Try something. I must see if my
guess is correct.” Durik moved toward the far side of the shop as Goryon
picked up a large wooden shield from a workbench. It was rectangular in shape,
a little over half the height of a kobold, with a rounded top and bottom.
There was a large metal knob in the center with metal strips, much like the
strip Goryon was forming on the anvil, lining the edges. “Here, Durik. Try
the arm strappings so I can
possibly be right? In his heart he longed to become an elite warrior. Was
this his chance? One task and elite warrior status? It almost seemed too easy,
certainly much easier than a year of training followed by a competition. The
more Trallik’s mind dwelt on the strange conversation, the more hope of the
future began to burn within his heart.
Not far down the passage, Mynar the Sorcerer
smiled to himself as he walked away. This yearling was but a pawn, but he
needed pawns to further his plans… plans which did not depend on his barely
loyal student Khee-lar Shadow Hand.
Chapter 5
– Meetings and Mysteries
T he
third gong rang out through the great common chamber long before light spilled
forth, like wash water splashed on the ground from the entrance to the large
common chamber ahead of Durik and Keryak, ruining their heat vision. The
sudden adjustment from the lightless caverns, where their only vision had been
the white and gray of heat variations, to the bright world of color was
discomforting.
The very poignant memory of meeting Kiria for the
first time had only grown in Durik’s consciousness, though he’d tried to
contain his interest as much as possible. Despite his self-discipline,
however, Durik had been subtly probing his friend for what he might know about
the mysterious young female. He quickly found that Keryak knew nothing more
than that she was the daughter of the Lord of the Gen, then the stark light and
multitudinous noise of the common chamber cut the rest of the conversation
short.
Through squinted eyes they saw the many kobolds
that thronged the area, conducting matters of daily life. Lining the edges of
the great cavern was a myriad of small shops. Most were large, heavy wooden
closets set in the sand with doors that, when open, were where storeowners
would stand to hawk their wares to the public. Several larger structures had
been constructed to house wool, mutton or ham, or other bulk goods as well.
But there was only one shop carved into the wall
of the cavern.
They crossed to the far side of the common
chamber, and approached Goryon’s blacksmithy. The pair walked quickly, passing
through the rough-hewn doorway into the smithy’s dim interior. Dark, lustrous
light from the opening in the forge mound painted all with a red hue. A large
kobold, the scales on his forearms and snout blackened by years of standing
over fickle cinders, was pounding a long, thin strip of metal into a curved
shape on an anvil next to the forge. A yellow beam from the center of the fire
reflected crimson on the rust red scales of his chest and head. Behind the
sweating form of the muscular kobold loomed an orc, who was taller seated than
they were standing. In one hand was a sharpening stone and in the other a set
of tongs holding a spear tip, which he was examining by the light of the forge.
Durik and Keryak stopped just inside the entrance to the large shop.
“Greetings, Master Goryon,” Durik called between
strikes of the hammer. His face was unworried, showing that he found
acceptance here, despite the uniqueness of his bronze scales. The large kobold
at the anvil stopped pounding and brushed the sweat from his eyes with his
brawny forearm, smearing soot across his snout as he blinked at the pair of
yearlings.
“Welcome, yearlings,” answered Goryon. “My son
Gorgon and the others recently arrived and are in our quarters.” Goryon
paused, remembering something, “Durik, come. Try something. I must see if my
guess is correct.” Durik moved toward the far side of the shop as Goryon
picked up a large wooden shield from a workbench. It was rectangular in shape,
a little over half the height of a kobold, with a rounded top and bottom.
There was a large metal knob in the center with metal strips, much like the
strip Goryon was forming on the anvil, lining the edges. “Here, Durik. Try
the arm strappings so I can
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