was just a pawn.
Dark had been his thoughts the further away from Delranan they travelled. He began to see things in his dreams; terrible things beckoning the doom he felt he couldn’t prevent. The world burned around him and all he could do was laugh. Bahr felt a foulness clutch the edges of his soul, waiting, watching. The notion was absurd. He’d never been superstitious and held no beliefs in another world lurking in the shadows. It took much to swallow what the Old Mother had foretold and even that didn’t sit well with his principles. Magic and fantasy might be well and fine for Men like Anienam, but Bahr was grounded in the inescapable reality of the harshness of life.
He tried to push those thoughts away and refocused on the nearing mountains. Much of the day had already passed when he ordered a halt. They’d come to the foothills and he agreed not to proceed further until Dorl and Nothol returned. Guiding the wagon into a small stand of ash and pine, he took first watch as the camp was made. Cold winds blew in fresh snow, light and non-sticking. More than two feet of snow already blanketed the lands. He was confident they wouldn’t need to worry about it once they reached the river and started moving south.
“Any sign yet?” Boen asked, moving silently up behind.
Any traces of their argument vanished. He was back to being his usual obstinate self, for which Bahr was grateful.
“Nothing. I told them to be back by sundown. We can’t risk having them caught in the mountains tonight,” Bahr replied.
“Wise. They are good lads. Bringing them along was the second smartest thing you’ve done.”
“What’s the first?”
Boen grinned, savage and terrifying. “Bringing me.” He stiffened suddenly and pointed. “Look, movement about a hundred meters out.”
Bahr followed the line of Boen’s finger and squinted against the dying light. He could barely make out the shapes bobbing towards them. Any elation faded when he noticed more than two. “Get everyone prepared. I don’t think it’s them.”
“I knew it!” Boen grumbled. “Gods damned Dwarves. We’re in for it now.”
He slunk back down the large boulder Bahr had taken up the watch on and quietly roused the others for battle. The camp came alive. Rekka drew her weapons and headed towards the tree line as Skuld and Maleela, secretly, drew swords and headed to the far right flank. Even Anienam rose and headed to the line, though with far different intent. He was certain he could reason with the Dwarves and avoid any unnecessary conflict. Too much death trailed them already. More would just hang around their necks like a plague. If they survived. Only Ionascu remained docile.
“Fifty meters,” Bahr hissed and drew his sword. He could make them out clearly. Dorl and Nothol were afoot, their horses nowhere to be seen. A score of Dwarves surrounded them. Each was girded for war.
Golden face masks presented a fierce image. Long beards of every color hung down their broad chests. Plated leather armor protected their torsos and upper thighs. Hobnailed boots gave them traction as they marched. Massive, round shields were slung over their backs, gilded with different runes and Dwarf patterns. Each bore a two-headed battle axe, thick fingers curled around the hafts. Bahr immediately had a sinking feeling.
The Dwarves halted at the edge of the trees, planting their feet shoulder width apart and lowering their axes just enough to appear slightly less threatening. Bahr moved quickly, knowing Boen wouldn’t hesitate to strike if he saw the right opportunity. The Giant, on the other hand, remained an unknown. One Bahr couldn’t take a chance on. Lowering his sword, he stepped into the open with arms wide.
“We don’t bring trouble,” he started.
The Dwarf captain stepped forward and cut him off. “You are intruding on the Dwarf kingdom of Drimmen Delf. Turn around now and depart or else.”
Bahr shook his head. “We can’t turn back. Our
Dark had been his thoughts the further away from Delranan they travelled. He began to see things in his dreams; terrible things beckoning the doom he felt he couldn’t prevent. The world burned around him and all he could do was laugh. Bahr felt a foulness clutch the edges of his soul, waiting, watching. The notion was absurd. He’d never been superstitious and held no beliefs in another world lurking in the shadows. It took much to swallow what the Old Mother had foretold and even that didn’t sit well with his principles. Magic and fantasy might be well and fine for Men like Anienam, but Bahr was grounded in the inescapable reality of the harshness of life.
He tried to push those thoughts away and refocused on the nearing mountains. Much of the day had already passed when he ordered a halt. They’d come to the foothills and he agreed not to proceed further until Dorl and Nothol returned. Guiding the wagon into a small stand of ash and pine, he took first watch as the camp was made. Cold winds blew in fresh snow, light and non-sticking. More than two feet of snow already blanketed the lands. He was confident they wouldn’t need to worry about it once they reached the river and started moving south.
“Any sign yet?” Boen asked, moving silently up behind.
Any traces of their argument vanished. He was back to being his usual obstinate self, for which Bahr was grateful.
“Nothing. I told them to be back by sundown. We can’t risk having them caught in the mountains tonight,” Bahr replied.
“Wise. They are good lads. Bringing them along was the second smartest thing you’ve done.”
“What’s the first?”
Boen grinned, savage and terrifying. “Bringing me.” He stiffened suddenly and pointed. “Look, movement about a hundred meters out.”
Bahr followed the line of Boen’s finger and squinted against the dying light. He could barely make out the shapes bobbing towards them. Any elation faded when he noticed more than two. “Get everyone prepared. I don’t think it’s them.”
“I knew it!” Boen grumbled. “Gods damned Dwarves. We’re in for it now.”
He slunk back down the large boulder Bahr had taken up the watch on and quietly roused the others for battle. The camp came alive. Rekka drew her weapons and headed towards the tree line as Skuld and Maleela, secretly, drew swords and headed to the far right flank. Even Anienam rose and headed to the line, though with far different intent. He was certain he could reason with the Dwarves and avoid any unnecessary conflict. Too much death trailed them already. More would just hang around their necks like a plague. If they survived. Only Ionascu remained docile.
“Fifty meters,” Bahr hissed and drew his sword. He could make them out clearly. Dorl and Nothol were afoot, their horses nowhere to be seen. A score of Dwarves surrounded them. Each was girded for war.
Golden face masks presented a fierce image. Long beards of every color hung down their broad chests. Plated leather armor protected their torsos and upper thighs. Hobnailed boots gave them traction as they marched. Massive, round shields were slung over their backs, gilded with different runes and Dwarf patterns. Each bore a two-headed battle axe, thick fingers curled around the hafts. Bahr immediately had a sinking feeling.
The Dwarves halted at the edge of the trees, planting their feet shoulder width apart and lowering their axes just enough to appear slightly less threatening. Bahr moved quickly, knowing Boen wouldn’t hesitate to strike if he saw the right opportunity. The Giant, on the other hand, remained an unknown. One Bahr couldn’t take a chance on. Lowering his sword, he stepped into the open with arms wide.
“We don’t bring trouble,” he started.
The Dwarf captain stepped forward and cut him off. “You are intruding on the Dwarf kingdom of Drimmen Delf. Turn around now and depart or else.”
Bahr shook his head. “We can’t turn back. Our
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