hehMizbiz wrote:If I'm right about the horse, I know what happens to it.
next lesson - don't go charging after a giant with only a loincloth and spear
Good stuff, ewayne
The Twelve Lessons (I - XII, Epilogue)
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RangerDeWood
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ewayneself
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VIII.
V'rlm worked quickly, draining and gutting the ram. He had to be done before Ch'gra returned, so that they could leave. With or without the human.
This was not the first time V'rlm regretted saving the young man, but he could have done nothing else. R'ghtlic had been very clear on the subject of solitary humans. He wanted a live one.
Having R'ghtlic learn that he had allowed one to be killed would have invited suspicion and threatened V'rlm's own work. Instead, he had faced Ch'gra and brought R'ghtlic his human prize, earning the lame one's trust.
Besides, he did have some affection for the young man. He certainly made R'ghtlic's lessons more interesting.
They sit in R'ghtlic's cave, on a woven rug, surrounded by books of lore. In the torchlight, he speaks stories to them--stories of the Gods, of dragons, of the doings of great mortals, the chronicles of heroes. As he speaks, his power over languages touches them, so that the tongues of men and beasts are the same to them.
V'rlm listens carefully, absorbing every word, no matter the tedium of subject or telling. This is his path, his calling. He would learn all his master knew, and more. Much more.
The young man is respectful, but clearly troubled. Presently, he interrupts. "R'ghtlic, please to listen a moment."
R'ghtlic turns his patient gaze to Tarul. "Speak, Nameless One."
"When I was a child, I sat at my father's feet and of our people through the stories he told. But, more than that, I learned our customs and our laws. What was acceptable and what was not. You tell me stories of faraway places and deeds, but you do not tell me the law of your people."
R'ghtlic closes the tome he is using as a reference and regards Tarul. "You speak truly. I have taught you few laws. This, in itself, is Nobanion's way."
"What do you mean?"
"Nobanion does not force laws upon us, here, for we worship in isolation. Instead, he trusts us to discern his law for ourselves, by observation and experience. If ever you enter our order, you will be asked to account for all you have seen, and name the lessons you have learned. Those lessons will be your laws."
Something in R'ghtlic's words had surprised V'rlm. "Enter our order." V'rlm had always considered the human R'ghtlic's little experiment--perhaps a way to learn more about the Bedine, or a study in the nature of humanity. He had never considered that R'ghtlic was grooming another acolyte. And a human!
It was of little consequence, of course. In fact it was even a benefit to have R'ghtlic's attentions elsewhere at times. But if the human was going to invite trouble, leaving V'rlm alone in giant country with a fresh kill and an even fresher horse, then Tarul would deserve the consequences.
***
Ch'gra stopped and removed a sling from a pocket on her sash. The giant was losing interest in the chase, so she planted a rock in his forehead.
Thud!
That seemed to do the job.
She diverted from the stream, taking a right into an opening in the cliff wall that led to a little box canyon, with high walls on three sides.
Someone long ago, probably dwarves, had carved a little pathway that hairpinned and spurred its way up the far wall of the canyon, leading to a high over-mountain trail above.
Ch'gra scaled the wall, using the narrow pathway for purchase. By the time the giant arrived, still in a rage, she was well out of reach.
This did not stop the giant from jumping and clawing, beating against the cliff wall, and bellowing its frustration at Ch'gra.
Ch'ra waited impassively for the giant's rage to subside. After many long minutes, the giant finally grew weary. He stood there, breathing heavily for a moment. Then he turned to walk back to the clearing, where his horse waited.
Thud!
The giant's rage flared again. He renewed his hopeless efforts against Ch'gra.
The lion-woman smiled. She could do this all day.
***
Tarul ran along the edge of the stream, V'rlm's spear gripped lightly. He remembered his training. He knew how to fight. He was not afraid.
He reached the place where Ch'gra had left the stream and he heard the giant's frustrated yelling. He crept into the canyon just as the giant was taking another one of his breaks, standing silently and glaring at Ch'gra.
Tarul moved in closer, where he saw Ch'gra, trapped! When he was close enough, he yelled: "Murderer! Here is your justice!"
When the giant turned to see to the noise, Tarul hurled the spear at his throat.
The spear fell short and bounced off the giant's left breast. Its sad clatter against the rocky ground was the most sickening sound Tarul had ever heard.
The giant's face contorted with pain. When the shock subsided, pain turned to confusion. When he saw Tarul, confusion turned to rage.
"Oh." Tarul said.
Then he turned and ran.
***
Ch'gra cursed!
She watched human and then giant run from the canyon, taking a right at the stream, running southward. Away from V'rlm. That was a blessing, at least. At that pace, they'd likely both take a tumble over the waterfall.
She smiled at the thought.
Ch'gra ran up the little ancient pathway. At the top, it joined the high trail, which led north toward the clearing, where V'rlm waited. And south toward the waterfall, where Tarul was headed.
Ch'gra cursed again.
***
Tarul ran south beside the stream, the cliff walls seeming to narrow on either side.
Tarul remembered the waterfall ahead. He knew the rocks there were slippery. If he could lure the giant close enough, maybe it would slip and fall over the edge. In fact, his life depended on it.
He ran as fast as he could. The giant was clumsy and poorly balanced with that ridiculous club, but his strides were much longer. The terrain was uneven and difficult. The giant was gaining.
He rounded a curve and saw the edge ahead, a large rock sloping up from the water near the center of the narrow falls. At full speed, he ran in the shallow waters toward the fall, the giant's footsteps falling right behind him.
Then, when he dared get no closer to the edge, he leapt at the large rock with both feet, using it to launch himself to the left.
He hit the eastern wall with a wicked thud and crack in his shoulder. He slumped to the ground, exhausted, looking back to watch the giant.
***
Ch'gra sprinted southward along the trail. From her high position, she could see the giant running, see the human using the rock to jump aside. She watched as the giant slipped along on the rocks, teetered at the brink, and then regained its footing.
She saw the giant turn to the Nameless One and raise his club. Even at full speed, she could not leap that far. She would not make it.
Then she saw the giant hesitate.
She kept running, peering at the place where Tarul lay slumped against the the far wall, searching for whatever it was that stayed the giant's killing blow.
She saw him, then, on a little rocky ledge, just above the human. A huge male lion, snarling up at the giant.
The giant returned a snarl of his own, slowly lifting his club against the lion. But the giant had waited too long. The lion roared as Ch'gra leapt down at the giant from the high cliff.
Her spear pierced his neck, and her momentum knocked the behemoth off-balance. He slid along the rocks again, writhing in pain and holding his neck as Ch'gra jumped away. This time, his balance failed him. Over the edge, he went.
It was another perfect kill.
.
V'rlm worked quickly, draining and gutting the ram. He had to be done before Ch'gra returned, so that they could leave. With or without the human.
This was not the first time V'rlm regretted saving the young man, but he could have done nothing else. R'ghtlic had been very clear on the subject of solitary humans. He wanted a live one.
Having R'ghtlic learn that he had allowed one to be killed would have invited suspicion and threatened V'rlm's own work. Instead, he had faced Ch'gra and brought R'ghtlic his human prize, earning the lame one's trust.
Besides, he did have some affection for the young man. He certainly made R'ghtlic's lessons more interesting.
They sit in R'ghtlic's cave, on a woven rug, surrounded by books of lore. In the torchlight, he speaks stories to them--stories of the Gods, of dragons, of the doings of great mortals, the chronicles of heroes. As he speaks, his power over languages touches them, so that the tongues of men and beasts are the same to them.
V'rlm listens carefully, absorbing every word, no matter the tedium of subject or telling. This is his path, his calling. He would learn all his master knew, and more. Much more.
The young man is respectful, but clearly troubled. Presently, he interrupts. "R'ghtlic, please to listen a moment."
R'ghtlic turns his patient gaze to Tarul. "Speak, Nameless One."
"When I was a child, I sat at my father's feet and of our people through the stories he told. But, more than that, I learned our customs and our laws. What was acceptable and what was not. You tell me stories of faraway places and deeds, but you do not tell me the law of your people."
R'ghtlic closes the tome he is using as a reference and regards Tarul. "You speak truly. I have taught you few laws. This, in itself, is Nobanion's way."
"What do you mean?"
"Nobanion does not force laws upon us, here, for we worship in isolation. Instead, he trusts us to discern his law for ourselves, by observation and experience. If ever you enter our order, you will be asked to account for all you have seen, and name the lessons you have learned. Those lessons will be your laws."
Something in R'ghtlic's words had surprised V'rlm. "Enter our order." V'rlm had always considered the human R'ghtlic's little experiment--perhaps a way to learn more about the Bedine, or a study in the nature of humanity. He had never considered that R'ghtlic was grooming another acolyte. And a human!
It was of little consequence, of course. In fact it was even a benefit to have R'ghtlic's attentions elsewhere at times. But if the human was going to invite trouble, leaving V'rlm alone in giant country with a fresh kill and an even fresher horse, then Tarul would deserve the consequences.
***
Ch'gra stopped and removed a sling from a pocket on her sash. The giant was losing interest in the chase, so she planted a rock in his forehead.
Thud!
That seemed to do the job.
She diverted from the stream, taking a right into an opening in the cliff wall that led to a little box canyon, with high walls on three sides.
Someone long ago, probably dwarves, had carved a little pathway that hairpinned and spurred its way up the far wall of the canyon, leading to a high over-mountain trail above.
Ch'gra scaled the wall, using the narrow pathway for purchase. By the time the giant arrived, still in a rage, she was well out of reach.
This did not stop the giant from jumping and clawing, beating against the cliff wall, and bellowing its frustration at Ch'gra.
Ch'ra waited impassively for the giant's rage to subside. After many long minutes, the giant finally grew weary. He stood there, breathing heavily for a moment. Then he turned to walk back to the clearing, where his horse waited.
Thud!
The giant's rage flared again. He renewed his hopeless efforts against Ch'gra.
The lion-woman smiled. She could do this all day.
***
Tarul ran along the edge of the stream, V'rlm's spear gripped lightly. He remembered his training. He knew how to fight. He was not afraid.
He reached the place where Ch'gra had left the stream and he heard the giant's frustrated yelling. He crept into the canyon just as the giant was taking another one of his breaks, standing silently and glaring at Ch'gra.
Tarul moved in closer, where he saw Ch'gra, trapped! When he was close enough, he yelled: "Murderer! Here is your justice!"
When the giant turned to see to the noise, Tarul hurled the spear at his throat.
The spear fell short and bounced off the giant's left breast. Its sad clatter against the rocky ground was the most sickening sound Tarul had ever heard.
The giant's face contorted with pain. When the shock subsided, pain turned to confusion. When he saw Tarul, confusion turned to rage.
"Oh." Tarul said.
Then he turned and ran.
***
Ch'gra cursed!
She watched human and then giant run from the canyon, taking a right at the stream, running southward. Away from V'rlm. That was a blessing, at least. At that pace, they'd likely both take a tumble over the waterfall.
She smiled at the thought.
Ch'gra ran up the little ancient pathway. At the top, it joined the high trail, which led north toward the clearing, where V'rlm waited. And south toward the waterfall, where Tarul was headed.
Ch'gra cursed again.
***
Tarul ran south beside the stream, the cliff walls seeming to narrow on either side.
Tarul remembered the waterfall ahead. He knew the rocks there were slippery. If he could lure the giant close enough, maybe it would slip and fall over the edge. In fact, his life depended on it.
He ran as fast as he could. The giant was clumsy and poorly balanced with that ridiculous club, but his strides were much longer. The terrain was uneven and difficult. The giant was gaining.
He rounded a curve and saw the edge ahead, a large rock sloping up from the water near the center of the narrow falls. At full speed, he ran in the shallow waters toward the fall, the giant's footsteps falling right behind him.
Then, when he dared get no closer to the edge, he leapt at the large rock with both feet, using it to launch himself to the left.
He hit the eastern wall with a wicked thud and crack in his shoulder. He slumped to the ground, exhausted, looking back to watch the giant.
***
Ch'gra sprinted southward along the trail. From her high position, she could see the giant running, see the human using the rock to jump aside. She watched as the giant slipped along on the rocks, teetered at the brink, and then regained its footing.
She saw the giant turn to the Nameless One and raise his club. Even at full speed, she could not leap that far. She would not make it.
Then she saw the giant hesitate.
She kept running, peering at the place where Tarul lay slumped against the the far wall, searching for whatever it was that stayed the giant's killing blow.
She saw him, then, on a little rocky ledge, just above the human. A huge male lion, snarling up at the giant.
The giant returned a snarl of his own, slowly lifting his club against the lion. But the giant had waited too long. The lion roared as Ch'gra leapt down at the giant from the high cliff.
Her spear pierced his neck, and her momentum knocked the behemoth off-balance. He slid along the rocks again, writhing in pain and holding his neck as Ch'gra jumped away. This time, his balance failed him. Over the edge, he went.
It was another perfect kill.
.
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ewayneself
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 183
- Joined: Tue Aug 02, 2005 6:41 am
IX.
"Flar ya slugbuckkit git over here. Cantcha see we got custimmers?"
"I'm commin Gibber. Hadda make a piss."
The shade of the Wadi Asad'huk was cool, even in the high heat. The others of the Pride had already begun their return to the mountains, for winter was ending. But the human had more needs, and the caravan had only just arrived, so he stayed to do some trading.
The whole camp smelled like spoiled milk. Tarul could hear others muttering and cursing in their little covered carts, haphazardly arranged at the edge of oasis, but these two dwarves were the only ones he saw. Gibber stood before him, while Flar came running from behind one of the wagons.
Bugs the size of buttons crawled about in Gibber's beard, which he scratched without ceasing. He wore tattered rags carelessly tied around his limbs and torso. His hair was matted and tangled. He bowed with a ridiculous flourish and waved a filthy, stub-fingered hand at a pitiful assortment of goods set out on a stained rug.
Flar was smaller and beardless, but no more appealing in appearance or smell. His teeth were rotten and mostly absent, and his jowls were magnificent.
"What's yer pleasure, yuman?"
At Gibber's gesture, Tarul stepped forward toward the rug.
"Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut! Nono! Back up. Back up!" Gibber drew a rusty little blade from some filthy pocket on his person and grimaced, menacingly tossing the blade from hand to hand. "Won' ave yer narra liddul digits all about me mercantiles, got it?"
Tarul held up his hands and backed up. "I am sorry. What--"
He enjoyed his time at the Wadi Asad'huk--or "Oasis of Many Lions", for this easternmost of the Anauroch oases was filled with lions, which meant humans rarely ventured here, making it a good winter home for Raalgrr's Pride.
This was his third winter with the pride, and the second one at the Wadi, but this was his first time to trade with the dwarven caravan. The dwarves spoke in the common tongue, but Tarul's grasp of it was still tenuous, and their accent was difficult.
V'rlm stepped to the young man's side, murmuring down in common. "The dwarf's little invitation was just ceremonial. If you wish to see something, ask Flar. He will retrieve it from the rug and bring it to you."
V'rlm. Always V'rlm. So helpful now. Tarul had not forgotten V'rlm's unconcern for the dead humans. And it was not lost on Tarul that V'rlm had become suddenly more kind since the day he had heard the story of the giant from Ch'gra: how Tarul had led the giant to the waterfall's edge, how the giant's blow was delayed by a lion, how Ch'gra had delivered her deadly strike--and how the lion was seen no more.
Since the Day of the Giant--for so R'htlic called it, with perhaps too much pomp--Tarul himself had begun to know faith. As a boy, he had been taught to fear the gods and to avoid those who worship them. The gods had abandoned men, so it was said, and paid attention to the plight of men only to laugh at them.
But that lion had proved otherwise to Tarul. And he could not forget it.
So he had become an initiate into R'ghtlic's order. Not a full Acolyte, not yet, but the process had begun. And V'rlm seemed intent on helping him, whether Tarul wished it or not.
And so it was V'rlm who stood with him now, calmly translating, giving instructions and advice on how to bargain with the dwarves.
Tarul purchased several small items--a new rope, torches, oil--before he saw it glinting in the sun. A familiar-looking scimitar.
He pointed. "That--that's my aziir!"
"Oh? Izzat so? 'Cause it's sittin' on my rug, y'see, big feller. And there it'll stay, lesen ya got th' gold ta buy it."
"Where did you find it?"
Flar spoke up, "In the canyun. split ta bits! We--"
"Shut yer soupsucker, Flar!" Gibber turned back to Tarul. "It's na yer bisness where we finded it. Anyways, it was broke up good. But I know a feller..." Gibber smiled proudly, looking down at the sparkling scimitar.
"How much?"
Gibber looked down at the scimitar and back up to the young human. "Well, ye mustn't have much. Lessen loincloths're the fashun dis season."
Flar chuckled, but a quick stare from Gibber cut him off.
"I'll let it go fer.... a hunnerd gold."
"A hundred?"
"Fine. Sevitty-five."
"I... do not have coin such as that."
Gibber shrugged. "Den I guess we'z done, yes?" Gibber began packing his things away. "None too soon, eider. Wanna get through the mountins before the melt-off busts up the streams."
"Do you think you will still have it next year?"
"Oh, mebbe so. But we ain' comin' back nex year."
"What? Why not!"
Gibber gestured absently to the mountains as he continued to put his things away. "Orcs."
V'rlm spoke. "Orcs have never stopped you before. They have hardly been a threat in years."
Gibber shook his head. "They been incyabatin. Breedin'", he said with a sneer. "It'll be a horde, dis year. Not a buncha starvin' tribes fightin each other. Somethins got 'em...orginnized. Wizard, I'm told. Yuman."
V'rlm looked to the mountains a moment, then back to the dwarf. "Then perhaps before you go, I should take advantage of your...other services. Since it may be some time before I have another chance."
Gibber leered. "Why certinnly, milord."
Gibber turned to Flar, who stood staring absently into space, his hand down the front of his trousers. "Flar! Make yerself useful!" Gibber's leer returned. "Lead the gennel-lion to Miss Plia's wagun."
The daft little dwarf took V'rlm by the hand and led him to the largest of the wagons. V'rlm looked down at the dwarf. "You will hold my things for me, yes?"
"Certinnly, sirrah", replied Flar.
V'rlm took off his shoulder-harness and removed his necklace, handing them to Flar. "I know my possessions well, dwarf. Do not be a fool."
"Course not, sirrah." Then, noticing something, Flar continued. "Hey! Yer nekklis. It's jess like mine!" Flar put the necklace around his neck with the other.
V'rlm paused, surprised, and looked. "Indeed! You have good taste, dwarf. In jewelry, if not associates."
Flar grinned stupidly and watched V'rlm enter the wagon.
Tarul stood there, his mind swirling in confusion as Gibber continued collecting his things. The dwarf. The wagon. Flar. V'rlm. Something was wrong.
Presently, the wagon began to shake, a horrible cacophany of yowls and screeches erupting from inside.
Gibber chuckled. "We gotta charge 'im extra ever time, fer de wear and de tear. Ye know whut dey say, right? Wunce ye had liyun, ye never stop cryun'."
Gibber's words came to Tarul like an echo, or a faint whisper. Tarul's attention was elsewhere. Something was not right, here. Tarul flinched. Flar! It was Flar. But what about him?
"Hey! Yuman! Quit yer gapin'. It's rude." Gibber, held one nostril shut and blew something nasty from the other one.
Tarul looked away and waited, mortified by the entire proceeding, until V'rlm left the wagon. The lion-man very ceremoniously bent over the strange dwarf, retrieving shoulder-harness and necklace alike.
Then V'rlm strode away from the camp, "We both have what we came for. Let us begone, Nameless One. We can still reach the mountains before dusk."
Tarul followed V'rlm, looking back to watch Flar grin and wave while Gibber picked up the scimitar and stowed it in a wagon.
.
"Flar ya slugbuckkit git over here. Cantcha see we got custimmers?"
"I'm commin Gibber. Hadda make a piss."
The shade of the Wadi Asad'huk was cool, even in the high heat. The others of the Pride had already begun their return to the mountains, for winter was ending. But the human had more needs, and the caravan had only just arrived, so he stayed to do some trading.
The whole camp smelled like spoiled milk. Tarul could hear others muttering and cursing in their little covered carts, haphazardly arranged at the edge of oasis, but these two dwarves were the only ones he saw. Gibber stood before him, while Flar came running from behind one of the wagons.
Bugs the size of buttons crawled about in Gibber's beard, which he scratched without ceasing. He wore tattered rags carelessly tied around his limbs and torso. His hair was matted and tangled. He bowed with a ridiculous flourish and waved a filthy, stub-fingered hand at a pitiful assortment of goods set out on a stained rug.
Flar was smaller and beardless, but no more appealing in appearance or smell. His teeth were rotten and mostly absent, and his jowls were magnificent.
"What's yer pleasure, yuman?"
At Gibber's gesture, Tarul stepped forward toward the rug.
"Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut! Nono! Back up. Back up!" Gibber drew a rusty little blade from some filthy pocket on his person and grimaced, menacingly tossing the blade from hand to hand. "Won' ave yer narra liddul digits all about me mercantiles, got it?"
Tarul held up his hands and backed up. "I am sorry. What--"
He enjoyed his time at the Wadi Asad'huk--or "Oasis of Many Lions", for this easternmost of the Anauroch oases was filled with lions, which meant humans rarely ventured here, making it a good winter home for Raalgrr's Pride.
This was his third winter with the pride, and the second one at the Wadi, but this was his first time to trade with the dwarven caravan. The dwarves spoke in the common tongue, but Tarul's grasp of it was still tenuous, and their accent was difficult.
V'rlm stepped to the young man's side, murmuring down in common. "The dwarf's little invitation was just ceremonial. If you wish to see something, ask Flar. He will retrieve it from the rug and bring it to you."
V'rlm. Always V'rlm. So helpful now. Tarul had not forgotten V'rlm's unconcern for the dead humans. And it was not lost on Tarul that V'rlm had become suddenly more kind since the day he had heard the story of the giant from Ch'gra: how Tarul had led the giant to the waterfall's edge, how the giant's blow was delayed by a lion, how Ch'gra had delivered her deadly strike--and how the lion was seen no more.
Since the Day of the Giant--for so R'htlic called it, with perhaps too much pomp--Tarul himself had begun to know faith. As a boy, he had been taught to fear the gods and to avoid those who worship them. The gods had abandoned men, so it was said, and paid attention to the plight of men only to laugh at them.
But that lion had proved otherwise to Tarul. And he could not forget it.
So he had become an initiate into R'ghtlic's order. Not a full Acolyte, not yet, but the process had begun. And V'rlm seemed intent on helping him, whether Tarul wished it or not.
And so it was V'rlm who stood with him now, calmly translating, giving instructions and advice on how to bargain with the dwarves.
Tarul purchased several small items--a new rope, torches, oil--before he saw it glinting in the sun. A familiar-looking scimitar.
He pointed. "That--that's my aziir!"
"Oh? Izzat so? 'Cause it's sittin' on my rug, y'see, big feller. And there it'll stay, lesen ya got th' gold ta buy it."
"Where did you find it?"
Flar spoke up, "In the canyun. split ta bits! We--"
"Shut yer soupsucker, Flar!" Gibber turned back to Tarul. "It's na yer bisness where we finded it. Anyways, it was broke up good. But I know a feller..." Gibber smiled proudly, looking down at the sparkling scimitar.
"How much?"
Gibber looked down at the scimitar and back up to the young human. "Well, ye mustn't have much. Lessen loincloths're the fashun dis season."
Flar chuckled, but a quick stare from Gibber cut him off.
"I'll let it go fer.... a hunnerd gold."
"A hundred?"
"Fine. Sevitty-five."
"I... do not have coin such as that."
Gibber shrugged. "Den I guess we'z done, yes?" Gibber began packing his things away. "None too soon, eider. Wanna get through the mountins before the melt-off busts up the streams."
"Do you think you will still have it next year?"
"Oh, mebbe so. But we ain' comin' back nex year."
"What? Why not!"
Gibber gestured absently to the mountains as he continued to put his things away. "Orcs."
V'rlm spoke. "Orcs have never stopped you before. They have hardly been a threat in years."
Gibber shook his head. "They been incyabatin. Breedin'", he said with a sneer. "It'll be a horde, dis year. Not a buncha starvin' tribes fightin each other. Somethins got 'em...orginnized. Wizard, I'm told. Yuman."
V'rlm looked to the mountains a moment, then back to the dwarf. "Then perhaps before you go, I should take advantage of your...other services. Since it may be some time before I have another chance."
Gibber leered. "Why certinnly, milord."
Gibber turned to Flar, who stood staring absently into space, his hand down the front of his trousers. "Flar! Make yerself useful!" Gibber's leer returned. "Lead the gennel-lion to Miss Plia's wagun."
The daft little dwarf took V'rlm by the hand and led him to the largest of the wagons. V'rlm looked down at the dwarf. "You will hold my things for me, yes?"
"Certinnly, sirrah", replied Flar.
V'rlm took off his shoulder-harness and removed his necklace, handing them to Flar. "I know my possessions well, dwarf. Do not be a fool."
"Course not, sirrah." Then, noticing something, Flar continued. "Hey! Yer nekklis. It's jess like mine!" Flar put the necklace around his neck with the other.
V'rlm paused, surprised, and looked. "Indeed! You have good taste, dwarf. In jewelry, if not associates."
Flar grinned stupidly and watched V'rlm enter the wagon.
Tarul stood there, his mind swirling in confusion as Gibber continued collecting his things. The dwarf. The wagon. Flar. V'rlm. Something was wrong.
Presently, the wagon began to shake, a horrible cacophany of yowls and screeches erupting from inside.
Gibber chuckled. "We gotta charge 'im extra ever time, fer de wear and de tear. Ye know whut dey say, right? Wunce ye had liyun, ye never stop cryun'."
Gibber's words came to Tarul like an echo, or a faint whisper. Tarul's attention was elsewhere. Something was not right, here. Tarul flinched. Flar! It was Flar. But what about him?
"Hey! Yuman! Quit yer gapin'. It's rude." Gibber, held one nostril shut and blew something nasty from the other one.
Tarul looked away and waited, mortified by the entire proceeding, until V'rlm left the wagon. The lion-man very ceremoniously bent over the strange dwarf, retrieving shoulder-harness and necklace alike.
Then V'rlm strode away from the camp, "We both have what we came for. Let us begone, Nameless One. We can still reach the mountains before dusk."
Tarul followed V'rlm, looking back to watch Flar grin and wave while Gibber picked up the scimitar and stowed it in a wagon.
.
-
ewayneself
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 183
- Joined: Tue Aug 02, 2005 6:41 am
X.
"V'rlm, wait. Look. Do you see them?"
"What? I see nothing."
They had made quick progress to the foothills and up the narrow mountain pathways, winding back and forth on a slope that seemed to ascend straight up from the desert floor. From their vantage point they could see orcs in the darkening valley below, hidden on rocks and spurs. And they could see the dwarven caravan making its slow, steady way north toward the pass, unaware of the orc ambush that awaited them.
"There must be dozens of them. Surely if my eyes can see them, yours can."
V'rlm peered where Tarul pointed. "Ah, yes. Orcs. The dwarves were right. We should hurry to our den."
"No! There are too many for the dwarves. We must help!"
"It is not our concern. And we are too far away. The caravan will be at the ambush point before we could get down the mountain." V'rlm turned away. "Come. It will be dark soon."
"No, I will--"
V'rlm placed a firm hand on Tarul's shoulder. "Not this time, human."
Tarul looked V'rlm in the eye. Again, that confused, uneasy feeling washed over him, just as he had felt from Flar.
"Take your hand from me, V'rlm. I will do what I must."
With a shrug and a sigh, V'rlm resumed his climb. Tarul did not. As soon as he was free from V'rlm's attentions, he dug his sling from his satchel, picked up a suitable rock, and loaded it.
He put a hand to his mouth and, with a loud, piercing ululation that reverberated into the canyon, he let his rock fly. The rock fell deep into the canyon and crushed a faraway orc head.
Only a few orcs turned their attention his way. They sent a few futile arrows and stones in his direction, but gravity was on his side. His position was much higher than that of the orcs.
And, more importantly, the orcs had given themselves away. Tarul grinned as the caravan began to arrange itself into a defensive semi-circle. Now the orcs would have to come to them! Tarul crept as quickly as he dared down the mountain pathway. If he hurried, he could help!
It was certainly a clash of odors. Mildewed and filthy dwarves took to arms in the setting sun with rotten-smelling orcs, battling among the wheels of the wagons.
Tarul entered the fray at full speed, his sharpened stick running a small one through.
Two more rushed him, but his stick would not budge from the first one's body. He used his foot to push the body away, but it was too late. One orc tackled him and the other raised a club to strike.
The blow never fell, but the orc did. Behind him, twenty paces away, stood Glibber, grinning, a mad gleam in his eye.
Tarul took up the dead orc's club and smashed the other one in the ear. The orc screamed in pain, holding his ear, while Tarul bludgeoned him to death.
He stood and retrieved his spear, holding it in his right hand, the club in his left, momentarily confused by the chaos of battle around him.
"Ow!" A sharp pain in his left shoulder. Something had thrown a dart! He pulled it free, mumbling "I should get a shield."
He searched for his assailant. There, behind a rock, 15 paces away, a hidden one. And he's was aiming a dart at Flar!
Tarul's desperatly-hurled spear found its mark. The Orc screeched a hideous little noise, held its neck, then fell over dead.
Flar turned to see to the noise, then turned up to watch as Tarul fell unconscious, clutching at his shoulder.
From his perch, V'rlm smiled. The human was certainly predictable, wasn't he? And so was the wizard. The human had fallen, but the dwarves were victorious. Hideous One's gambit had failed, now he would have to bargain with V'rlm.
***
"Yuman. Yuman!" The slap across his face was much harder than necessary, Tarul thought. "Wake up. Sun's goin' down. Ye needa git goin'."
"What... what happened?"
"Yer a tough one, aintcha? Tougher than Flar wouldda been, if'n he'd taken the dart intended fer 'im. Ye's piezend."
"What?"
"Piezend! Piezend!" Gibber held up a dart, its tip oozing with green.
"Oh! Poisoned."
"Yeah. Dat's wat I sed." His breath was like the camel tent in summertime. "Took half my herbals ta fix ye up." Gibber scowled a little at this. "Now git up and git gone. Back ta yer...whatevers."
Tarul stood in a daze and started stumbling toward the mountain path. Around him, the dwarves were busy putting their wagons back in order and preparing to leave.
"Hey! Wait. One more ting dere, yuman."
Tarul turned to see Gibber approaching, holding a blade. The dwarf stopped, then turned, looking at Flar, who gestured him forward. "G'wan Gibber. Do it." Flar, again. Whatever seemed strange about him before, Tarul could not longer sense it.
Gibber turned back to Tarul. "Er...lissen. Turns out we'z runnin' a sale on, uh... on simmytars." Gibber turned back to smiling Flar, then turned back to Tarul, grumbling. "We're sellin' 'em fer...er... how much ye got, yuman?"
Absently, Tarul looked in his pouch. "Uh...twelve gold."
Gibber winced. "We're sellin' 'em fer..." Gibber grimaced. "twelve. gold."
Tarul dropped the pouch in Gibber's hands, took the sword, and walked away, still in a daze. It would be well past dark before he collapsed to sleep in R'ghtlic's den.
"V'rlm, wait. Look. Do you see them?"
"What? I see nothing."
They had made quick progress to the foothills and up the narrow mountain pathways, winding back and forth on a slope that seemed to ascend straight up from the desert floor. From their vantage point they could see orcs in the darkening valley below, hidden on rocks and spurs. And they could see the dwarven caravan making its slow, steady way north toward the pass, unaware of the orc ambush that awaited them.
"There must be dozens of them. Surely if my eyes can see them, yours can."
V'rlm peered where Tarul pointed. "Ah, yes. Orcs. The dwarves were right. We should hurry to our den."
"No! There are too many for the dwarves. We must help!"
"It is not our concern. And we are too far away. The caravan will be at the ambush point before we could get down the mountain." V'rlm turned away. "Come. It will be dark soon."
"No, I will--"
V'rlm placed a firm hand on Tarul's shoulder. "Not this time, human."
Tarul looked V'rlm in the eye. Again, that confused, uneasy feeling washed over him, just as he had felt from Flar.
"Take your hand from me, V'rlm. I will do what I must."
With a shrug and a sigh, V'rlm resumed his climb. Tarul did not. As soon as he was free from V'rlm's attentions, he dug his sling from his satchel, picked up a suitable rock, and loaded it.
He put a hand to his mouth and, with a loud, piercing ululation that reverberated into the canyon, he let his rock fly. The rock fell deep into the canyon and crushed a faraway orc head.
Only a few orcs turned their attention his way. They sent a few futile arrows and stones in his direction, but gravity was on his side. His position was much higher than that of the orcs.
And, more importantly, the orcs had given themselves away. Tarul grinned as the caravan began to arrange itself into a defensive semi-circle. Now the orcs would have to come to them! Tarul crept as quickly as he dared down the mountain pathway. If he hurried, he could help!
It was certainly a clash of odors. Mildewed and filthy dwarves took to arms in the setting sun with rotten-smelling orcs, battling among the wheels of the wagons.
Tarul entered the fray at full speed, his sharpened stick running a small one through.
Two more rushed him, but his stick would not budge from the first one's body. He used his foot to push the body away, but it was too late. One orc tackled him and the other raised a club to strike.
The blow never fell, but the orc did. Behind him, twenty paces away, stood Glibber, grinning, a mad gleam in his eye.
Tarul took up the dead orc's club and smashed the other one in the ear. The orc screamed in pain, holding his ear, while Tarul bludgeoned him to death.
He stood and retrieved his spear, holding it in his right hand, the club in his left, momentarily confused by the chaos of battle around him.
"Ow!" A sharp pain in his left shoulder. Something had thrown a dart! He pulled it free, mumbling "I should get a shield."
He searched for his assailant. There, behind a rock, 15 paces away, a hidden one. And he's was aiming a dart at Flar!
Tarul's desperatly-hurled spear found its mark. The Orc screeched a hideous little noise, held its neck, then fell over dead.
Flar turned to see to the noise, then turned up to watch as Tarul fell unconscious, clutching at his shoulder.
From his perch, V'rlm smiled. The human was certainly predictable, wasn't he? And so was the wizard. The human had fallen, but the dwarves were victorious. Hideous One's gambit had failed, now he would have to bargain with V'rlm.
***
"Yuman. Yuman!" The slap across his face was much harder than necessary, Tarul thought. "Wake up. Sun's goin' down. Ye needa git goin'."
"What... what happened?"
"Yer a tough one, aintcha? Tougher than Flar wouldda been, if'n he'd taken the dart intended fer 'im. Ye's piezend."
"What?"
"Piezend! Piezend!" Gibber held up a dart, its tip oozing with green.
"Oh! Poisoned."
"Yeah. Dat's wat I sed." His breath was like the camel tent in summertime. "Took half my herbals ta fix ye up." Gibber scowled a little at this. "Now git up and git gone. Back ta yer...whatevers."
Tarul stood in a daze and started stumbling toward the mountain path. Around him, the dwarves were busy putting their wagons back in order and preparing to leave.
"Hey! Wait. One more ting dere, yuman."
Tarul turned to see Gibber approaching, holding a blade. The dwarf stopped, then turned, looking at Flar, who gestured him forward. "G'wan Gibber. Do it." Flar, again. Whatever seemed strange about him before, Tarul could not longer sense it.
Gibber turned back to Tarul. "Er...lissen. Turns out we'z runnin' a sale on, uh... on simmytars." Gibber turned back to smiling Flar, then turned back to Tarul, grumbling. "We're sellin' 'em fer...er... how much ye got, yuman?"
Absently, Tarul looked in his pouch. "Uh...twelve gold."
Gibber winced. "We're sellin' 'em fer..." Gibber grimaced. "twelve. gold."
Tarul dropped the pouch in Gibber's hands, took the sword, and walked away, still in a daze. It would be well past dark before he collapsed to sleep in R'ghtlic's den.
-
ewayneself
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 183
- Joined: Tue Aug 02, 2005 6:41 am
XI.
"There! Behind the column! Get them!"
So strange, Tarul thought, to suddenly understand orcs. Disorienting.
Ch'gra did not seem so confused. "They've smelled us. We fight!" Tarul understood that, too. But he would have understood that, anyway.
Ch'gra roared, leaping into three charging orcs. V'rlm watched from near the far door, lifting not a paw to aid them.
***
Months had passed since that evening with the dwarves, and neither Tarul or V'rlm had spoken of it again. Tarul had considered telling R'ghtlic, but what was he to say? V'rlm had done something vulgar? V'rlm made him feel strangely? V'rlm did not aid the dwarves?
So they had both gone about their lessons and devotions, speaking rarely to one another. But Tarul had not forgotten that night. Instead, he waited.
He waited until a lesson ended early, R'ghtlic wishing to see to one of his cubs.
He waited until the day he knew R'ghtlic's power over languages was still strong upon them both.
He waited until V'rlm made his own excuse to leave, fingering the glass bulb on his necklace.
Then he waited no longer. Tarul quickly wound his way through the network of caves to the place near the heights, near the shaman W'mruu. There he stood at the mouth of Ch'gra's den.
***
The orcs rushed them. These were no simple raiders with clubs. They were armed and armored. But so was Tarul. He swung his aziir with expert care, spilling orc blood as often as not.
Ch'gra slew them in three and fours, up on her hind legs, spear impaling vile forms and forepaws raking across malevolent faces. So it went, until a roar stopped Ch'gra in her tracks. V'rlm strode forward. "Ch'gra. Run from this place, you fool!"
Tarul recognized something very convincing in V'rlm's voice, but he was not affected as Ch'gra was. With a loud ululation, he charged an orc near Ch'gra, rushing to her side.
Shaking her head clear of V'rlm's tricks, Ch'gra leapt to face V'rlm on the platform where he stood.
***
Ch'gra had snarled, at first, at the smell of human on the air.
Tarul held his hands out to her, palms up, approaching slowly. "Ch'gra. I would speak with you."
"What is your business here, human?" she growled. "This place is not for you."
"V'rlm. I think he leaves the den sometimes, at night."
"That is his right."
"I think his intentions are...evil."
"Evil?" There was that disconcerting Wemic chuckle again. "You have been in R'ghtlic's storybooks too long, human. The only evil here is those orcs all over the mountain."
"Yes. The orcs are everywhere. So why does a coward like V'rlm leave the den alone when others sleep?"
Ch'gra had no answer to this.
***
Tarul skirmished from column to column, so he could not be surrounded. The orcs naturally avoided the platform where the two Wemics faced one another, and so Tarul fought his way toward Ch'gra, hoping the orcs would choose to give the fighting lions wide berth.
On the platform, V'rlm expertly parried each strike from Ch'gra. They circled one another, each waiting for the right moment.
"Ch'gra. Why did you come here? You are out of your element. Leave now, and no harm will befall you."
"I cannot offer you the same mercy, V'rlm, unless you have a very good explanation."
"I do not need to explain. Only to wait. Soon, the Hideous One will arrive. Our bargain will be struck."
"Bargain! You would make deals with our enemies? Traitor!"
"A bargain, indeed! He will have power, I will have knowledge. And, unless you turn from here, you will be dead."
***
Into the night, Ch'gra had stalked V'rlm. Tarul followed, far behind Ch'gra, lest V'rlm's keen ears or nose detect him.
One after the other, each crossed the ravine on the narrow rock bridge; each stepped carefully into a large crevice; each approached the entrance to a network of tunnels known to be a hideout for orcs.
V'rlm spoke a brusque word to the orcs that guarded the entrance and rushed past them without pause.
Ch'gra waited a moment, then leapt from hiding at those same orcs, cutting them down before they could cry out.
Ch'gra sniffed the air, following V'rlm by scent more than sight, as the caverns split and wound, their way becoming more and more confused. Tarul followed Ch'gra, staying in the shadows, avoiding the noisy orcs.
At last, the tunnels opened into a large cavern, held up by rudimentary stone columns. At the far end of the cavern were poorly carved steps leading to a flat platform. There, V'rlm stood. He spoke a few words to a large, well-armored orc. The orc nodded, bowed, and then left by way of huge rock-crafted door, obviously meant to be hidden.
***
"No!"
Ch'gra's spear finally found an opening, piercing V'rlm's stomach and emerging, blood-soaked, from his back. V'rlm grabbed at the spear with both hands, then fell over on his side.
Ch'gra turned to the remaining orcs in the carven and roared triumphantly. Those who didn't run were transfixed.
She calmed, looking to Tarul. "It is done. Kill him and we will go."
"What? Why me?"
"You are of his order. He is a traitor to you, even more than to me. So it falls to you." Casually, she yanked the spear from V'rlm's stomach. V'rlm screamed.
She handed the spear to Tarul. "Use this. It is sharper. More merciful."
He took the spear. V'rlm writhed helplessly on the stone floor.
Tarul hesitated. "I cannot."
Ch'gra drew close to Tarul. "Do not be weak, human. He is a traitor! Kill him!"
"No."
Ch'gra snarled and raised herself up! "Kill him! Kill him now! We must go!"
Tarul closed his eyes and and winced at Ch'gra's rage. "I will not!" he yelled against Ch'gra's snarling.
Ch'gra backed away, looking down at the human with disgust. "And so you endanger us all! Why, human?"
He dropped the spear. Its loud clatter against the rocky ground was the proudest sound Tarul had ever heard.
"Because when I was a traitor, he did not kill me."
"Touching!" A new voice, from behind. Man and She-lion alike turned to see a hooded and robed figure emerging from the large, rock-shaped door.
"Truly a picture. A tableu, like they have in the temples." He pointed to each, figure on the platform, in turn. "The Traitor, The Warrior, and...what? The Saint?"
The Hideous One let the question hang there, then answered it for himself.
"No, no. Not The Saint," The Hideous One laughed, "The Martyr."
.
"There! Behind the column! Get them!"
So strange, Tarul thought, to suddenly understand orcs. Disorienting.
Ch'gra did not seem so confused. "They've smelled us. We fight!" Tarul understood that, too. But he would have understood that, anyway.
Ch'gra roared, leaping into three charging orcs. V'rlm watched from near the far door, lifting not a paw to aid them.
***
Months had passed since that evening with the dwarves, and neither Tarul or V'rlm had spoken of it again. Tarul had considered telling R'ghtlic, but what was he to say? V'rlm had done something vulgar? V'rlm made him feel strangely? V'rlm did not aid the dwarves?
So they had both gone about their lessons and devotions, speaking rarely to one another. But Tarul had not forgotten that night. Instead, he waited.
He waited until a lesson ended early, R'ghtlic wishing to see to one of his cubs.
He waited until the day he knew R'ghtlic's power over languages was still strong upon them both.
He waited until V'rlm made his own excuse to leave, fingering the glass bulb on his necklace.
Then he waited no longer. Tarul quickly wound his way through the network of caves to the place near the heights, near the shaman W'mruu. There he stood at the mouth of Ch'gra's den.
***
The orcs rushed them. These were no simple raiders with clubs. They were armed and armored. But so was Tarul. He swung his aziir with expert care, spilling orc blood as often as not.
Ch'gra slew them in three and fours, up on her hind legs, spear impaling vile forms and forepaws raking across malevolent faces. So it went, until a roar stopped Ch'gra in her tracks. V'rlm strode forward. "Ch'gra. Run from this place, you fool!"
Tarul recognized something very convincing in V'rlm's voice, but he was not affected as Ch'gra was. With a loud ululation, he charged an orc near Ch'gra, rushing to her side.
Shaking her head clear of V'rlm's tricks, Ch'gra leapt to face V'rlm on the platform where he stood.
***
Ch'gra had snarled, at first, at the smell of human on the air.
Tarul held his hands out to her, palms up, approaching slowly. "Ch'gra. I would speak with you."
"What is your business here, human?" she growled. "This place is not for you."
"V'rlm. I think he leaves the den sometimes, at night."
"That is his right."
"I think his intentions are...evil."
"Evil?" There was that disconcerting Wemic chuckle again. "You have been in R'ghtlic's storybooks too long, human. The only evil here is those orcs all over the mountain."
"Yes. The orcs are everywhere. So why does a coward like V'rlm leave the den alone when others sleep?"
Ch'gra had no answer to this.
***
Tarul skirmished from column to column, so he could not be surrounded. The orcs naturally avoided the platform where the two Wemics faced one another, and so Tarul fought his way toward Ch'gra, hoping the orcs would choose to give the fighting lions wide berth.
On the platform, V'rlm expertly parried each strike from Ch'gra. They circled one another, each waiting for the right moment.
"Ch'gra. Why did you come here? You are out of your element. Leave now, and no harm will befall you."
"I cannot offer you the same mercy, V'rlm, unless you have a very good explanation."
"I do not need to explain. Only to wait. Soon, the Hideous One will arrive. Our bargain will be struck."
"Bargain! You would make deals with our enemies? Traitor!"
"A bargain, indeed! He will have power, I will have knowledge. And, unless you turn from here, you will be dead."
***
Into the night, Ch'gra had stalked V'rlm. Tarul followed, far behind Ch'gra, lest V'rlm's keen ears or nose detect him.
One after the other, each crossed the ravine on the narrow rock bridge; each stepped carefully into a large crevice; each approached the entrance to a network of tunnels known to be a hideout for orcs.
V'rlm spoke a brusque word to the orcs that guarded the entrance and rushed past them without pause.
Ch'gra waited a moment, then leapt from hiding at those same orcs, cutting them down before they could cry out.
Ch'gra sniffed the air, following V'rlm by scent more than sight, as the caverns split and wound, their way becoming more and more confused. Tarul followed Ch'gra, staying in the shadows, avoiding the noisy orcs.
At last, the tunnels opened into a large cavern, held up by rudimentary stone columns. At the far end of the cavern were poorly carved steps leading to a flat platform. There, V'rlm stood. He spoke a few words to a large, well-armored orc. The orc nodded, bowed, and then left by way of huge rock-crafted door, obviously meant to be hidden.
***
"No!"
Ch'gra's spear finally found an opening, piercing V'rlm's stomach and emerging, blood-soaked, from his back. V'rlm grabbed at the spear with both hands, then fell over on his side.
Ch'gra turned to the remaining orcs in the carven and roared triumphantly. Those who didn't run were transfixed.
She calmed, looking to Tarul. "It is done. Kill him and we will go."
"What? Why me?"
"You are of his order. He is a traitor to you, even more than to me. So it falls to you." Casually, she yanked the spear from V'rlm's stomach. V'rlm screamed.
She handed the spear to Tarul. "Use this. It is sharper. More merciful."
He took the spear. V'rlm writhed helplessly on the stone floor.
Tarul hesitated. "I cannot."
Ch'gra drew close to Tarul. "Do not be weak, human. He is a traitor! Kill him!"
"No."
Ch'gra snarled and raised herself up! "Kill him! Kill him now! We must go!"
Tarul closed his eyes and and winced at Ch'gra's rage. "I will not!" he yelled against Ch'gra's snarling.
Ch'gra backed away, looking down at the human with disgust. "And so you endanger us all! Why, human?"
He dropped the spear. Its loud clatter against the rocky ground was the proudest sound Tarul had ever heard.
"Because when I was a traitor, he did not kill me."
"Touching!" A new voice, from behind. Man and She-lion alike turned to see a hooded and robed figure emerging from the large, rock-shaped door.
"Truly a picture. A tableu, like they have in the temples." He pointed to each, figure on the platform, in turn. "The Traitor, The Warrior, and...what? The Saint?"
The Hideous One let the question hang there, then answered it for himself.
"No, no. Not The Saint," The Hideous One laughed, "The Martyr."
.
-
NESchampion
- Staff Head - Documentation
- Posts: 884
- Joined: Thu Jul 13, 2006 12:46 am
-
ewayneself
- Dire Badger
- Posts: 183
- Joined: Tue Aug 02, 2005 6:41 am
XII.
Ch'gra wasted no more time on words. She pounced, but the wizard was ready for that. He waved a flaming hand and the stench of burning fur soon permeated the cavern.
Ch'gra lived, but she did not move.
"A life lesson learned late, lioness. Fire is not to be trifled with. Of course," the wizard pulled back his hood, revealing a face wholly disfigured by burns, lips burned away from teeth, eyes blistered nearly shut, "this is something I learned long ago."
Tarul gasped, then raised his aziir.
A gesture from the Hideous Wizard stopped him. "Do not be a fool, little man. You live now by virtue of my curiosity, for this place offers little to challenge the mind." He turned to V'rlm. "Tell me, Loreling. Why does a human stand with you?"
V'rlm gritted his teeth, still struggling with the pain of his wound. "We rescued him. Years ago."
The wizard regarded Tarul a moment, amused. "And now he is one of you."
"No," Tarul put in, "I am not wemic. I am a man."
The wizard smiled, patronizingly. "Of course you are."
The wizard turned again to the bleeding wemic; "V'rlm, you correctly see R'ghtlic as a fool. He allows your peoples' knowledge to stagnate in this wilderness. He is so bored with his own worn tomes that he is taking in pets! You are fortunate that I have come."
He gestured behind him to a robed orc who entered, bowing and scraping, pulling behind him a sled loaded with books and scroll cases. "My servant brings all that you desired, V'rlm. The books. The scrolls. The learning and lore that you so deeply--," he leered, "--crave."
He smiled his lipless smile to V'rlm. "And you? And have you brought what I crave?"
"Yes," V'rlm spoke through his pain, holding his stomach. "I have it here."
"Good! And you have even had the generosity to cripple yourself. Now I can take what you brought me, kill you, and keep my books."
V'rlm opened his mouth in silent, helpless protest.
The Hideous Wizard laughed impriously. "But I will not do this to you, V'rlm. For you are a crafty one, and could be of further use to me. After all, it was you who identified the item those filthy dwarves unknowingly held. And it was you tricked it from them and brought it to me."
Tarul looked at V'rlm, confused. He lay there, still, on his side, the pool of blood and bile growing beneath him, his rear leg twitching, the glass bulb on his necklace hanging nearly to the floor.
Then he understood. And he had to act!
He rushed V'rlm, hoping to bash his target, but it was not even close. With a gesture from the wizard, Tarul found he could not move. He knew what transpired around him, but could only stand and watch, unable to even flinch.
The curse that crossed his mind could not cross his lips. If only he had realized sooner! The strange events at the dwarven caravan. The feeling he had gotten from Flar, and then from V'rlm. It was not truly from them at all. It was from that necklace!
The wizard approached. "And so I will honor our bargain, with one small alteration. I grow lonely in this mountain, for the company of orcs is tiresome. I require...human companionship. I will keep the young man here."
The wizard paused a moment in front of Tarul, before continuing his slow walk to V'rlm.
"So let us make our trade, V'rlm. Give me the necklace!"
"Wizard, no! This was not our agreement!"
The wizard reached V'rlm, who still lay bleeding. "It is similar enough. What is the human to you?"
"I...No! I would...I would not see him harmed!"
The wizard reached out for the necklace. "Oh, do not worry." He laughed. "You will not see it."
"No!"
V'rlm grabbed at the glass bulb on the necklace and uttered strange words as he brandished it toward the wizard.
The room swirled flame. Red, yellow, and orange whirled and ranged throughout the cavern. Tarul stood, still motionless, hot wind scorching his face. Ch'gra lay unconscious, her hair blowing in the hot whirlwind. The space around V'rlm was too bright for Tarul's eyes to see.
When the chaos subsided, and the winds dissipated, the wizard was gone. V'rlm's necklace still hung about his neck, though its glass bulb now burned a bright, fiery red.
***
The Nameless One stood on the Flat Rock, surrounded by the wemics of Raalgrr's Pride.
R'ghtlic stood beside him, his power over languages flowing over all who stood there. "Nameless One, I--" R'ghtlic stopped, chuckling. "Now that I think of it, anyone who joins our Order should probably have a name."
He turned to the assembled wemics. "Is there any here who would have a name for this man?"
"I do." It was Ch'gra, still blackened from her wounds, but no less a hunter. "Let us call him--" she smiled. "Let us call him brother."
R'ghtlic nodded once. "So be it, then. You will be called Akbar akh Asad, which in your tongue means 'Blessed Brother of the Lion'. This will be your title, as well as your name, and may the name of your birth be gone from you forever."
R'ghtlic raised his spear over Akbar.
"And so I induct you, Akbar akh Asad, into the Order of Nobanion. May the blessings of the Lion God follow your footsteps. May his mercy comfort you. May his might strengthen you."
Then he strode away from Akbar, leaving him standing in the middle of the Flat Rock. "Now, as is our way, we ask you to publicly account for all you have seen since your training began, and name the lessons you have learned, so that by speaking them publicly you encode them into law and make them the rules by which you must live."
Then Akbar spoke his lessons to them, saying:
I. Know well that which is more precious to you than blood. Eagerly pay that price, for it will be a bargain to you.
II. Seven times must you gaze upon a peer before your judgement of him is final.
III. Defend those who are helpless or persecuted. Speak for those who are downtrodden or oppressed.
IV. When you submit to human authority, give it your honest counsel, then obey its judgement in all things, even when you disagree.
V. Respect the races, knowing that their gifts and their traditions differ one from the other. Honor your race by making the most of your gifts.
VI. Do not be bound by sentimental attachment to material things, but waste not, so that all may have plenty.
VII. Do not strike unwisely or in haste. Patiently await your moment to pounce.
VIII. Punish those who willingly harm the innocent; Nobanion will be your strength and defender.
IX. Be honest and seemly in your dealings and associations.
X. Do not let wrath grow beneath your feet. Be quick to forgive and seek forgiveness.
XI. Let your heart be tender and compassionate, even to those who must be punished.
XII. Be true to your convictions and to your Pride, and you will earn the respect of those around you.
R'ghtlic beamed, leading the assembled crowd in a raucous salute of spears. Then he turned to Akbar and spoke again:
"Akbar akh Asad, when your training is complete, you will go forth into human lands. You will abide amongst them as an ambassador of Lord Firemane. You will represent the Lion God's ways to them, that the name of Nobanion might be spread among the races."
He placed a hand on Akbar's shoulder and added, to Akbar alone: "And when you leave us, you must never speak of this place, or return to it. This is the mission entrusted to you, my Brother. Elohim. Elohim."
***
Epilogue:
From their high perch, the two elder wemics watched horse and rider speed across the desert floor, kicking up a rising cloud of dust.
"You are quite proud of yourself, Loremaster." W'mruu regarded R'ghtlic, who smiled.
"I confess some pride, shaman. For I have found the ambassador I had been commanded to seek. The human has become a righteous man, a follower of Nobanion, and a warrior. Do you see now that even a godless Bedine can know faith, under the right circumstances?"
"Circumstances?" W'mruu spit a little laugh. "Deprived of food and sleep and clothing? Living among people not his own, in darkness, in danger, and shunned? Those were his circumstances. He turned to Nobanion so that the way would be easier for him, for he knew this was what you desired."
"Nonsense! He denied his peoples' ways before he ever came to us. His heart was ready. It was his choice."
"Still, do you think he would have known any faith at all without your intercession? Without your peculiar form of meddling? No, R'ghtlic. He came to Nobanion through your coercion, and nothing else."
"Not so, W'mruu! I watched him carefully. I know his heart. You speak of things you do not know, for you too rarely leave your cave."
W'mruu smiled at this. "Time will tell, then. Let him spend a few winters in human lands. Let him know the temptations of the human cities. Let him experience the unique corruptions of human authorities. Let him strive and gain and lose and suffer as humans do. Then we will see if this faith you have so methodically bestowed is the sort that will last. I will be surprised if the name of Nobanion even crosses his lips in years to come."
"Very well, W'mruu. Let time tell. But how will we know?"
W'mruu frowned, disbelieving his companion's question. "We will know when he returns, R'ghtlic. For he will return," W'mruu added, "in search of comfort. Or wisdom. Or power. He will wring what he can from us. That is what humans do."
"In this, you are wrong, W'mruu." He looked to the rider in the distance. "I hope."
In silence, they stood and watched as the rider turned east and disappeared into the hills.
Ch'gra wasted no more time on words. She pounced, but the wizard was ready for that. He waved a flaming hand and the stench of burning fur soon permeated the cavern.
Ch'gra lived, but she did not move.
"A life lesson learned late, lioness. Fire is not to be trifled with. Of course," the wizard pulled back his hood, revealing a face wholly disfigured by burns, lips burned away from teeth, eyes blistered nearly shut, "this is something I learned long ago."
Tarul gasped, then raised his aziir.
A gesture from the Hideous Wizard stopped him. "Do not be a fool, little man. You live now by virtue of my curiosity, for this place offers little to challenge the mind." He turned to V'rlm. "Tell me, Loreling. Why does a human stand with you?"
V'rlm gritted his teeth, still struggling with the pain of his wound. "We rescued him. Years ago."
The wizard regarded Tarul a moment, amused. "And now he is one of you."
"No," Tarul put in, "I am not wemic. I am a man."
The wizard smiled, patronizingly. "Of course you are."
The wizard turned again to the bleeding wemic; "V'rlm, you correctly see R'ghtlic as a fool. He allows your peoples' knowledge to stagnate in this wilderness. He is so bored with his own worn tomes that he is taking in pets! You are fortunate that I have come."
He gestured behind him to a robed orc who entered, bowing and scraping, pulling behind him a sled loaded with books and scroll cases. "My servant brings all that you desired, V'rlm. The books. The scrolls. The learning and lore that you so deeply--," he leered, "--crave."
He smiled his lipless smile to V'rlm. "And you? And have you brought what I crave?"
"Yes," V'rlm spoke through his pain, holding his stomach. "I have it here."
"Good! And you have even had the generosity to cripple yourself. Now I can take what you brought me, kill you, and keep my books."
V'rlm opened his mouth in silent, helpless protest.
The Hideous Wizard laughed impriously. "But I will not do this to you, V'rlm. For you are a crafty one, and could be of further use to me. After all, it was you who identified the item those filthy dwarves unknowingly held. And it was you tricked it from them and brought it to me."
Tarul looked at V'rlm, confused. He lay there, still, on his side, the pool of blood and bile growing beneath him, his rear leg twitching, the glass bulb on his necklace hanging nearly to the floor.
Then he understood. And he had to act!
He rushed V'rlm, hoping to bash his target, but it was not even close. With a gesture from the wizard, Tarul found he could not move. He knew what transpired around him, but could only stand and watch, unable to even flinch.
The curse that crossed his mind could not cross his lips. If only he had realized sooner! The strange events at the dwarven caravan. The feeling he had gotten from Flar, and then from V'rlm. It was not truly from them at all. It was from that necklace!
The wizard approached. "And so I will honor our bargain, with one small alteration. I grow lonely in this mountain, for the company of orcs is tiresome. I require...human companionship. I will keep the young man here."
The wizard paused a moment in front of Tarul, before continuing his slow walk to V'rlm.
"So let us make our trade, V'rlm. Give me the necklace!"
"Wizard, no! This was not our agreement!"
The wizard reached V'rlm, who still lay bleeding. "It is similar enough. What is the human to you?"
"I...No! I would...I would not see him harmed!"
The wizard reached out for the necklace. "Oh, do not worry." He laughed. "You will not see it."
"No!"
V'rlm grabbed at the glass bulb on the necklace and uttered strange words as he brandished it toward the wizard.
The room swirled flame. Red, yellow, and orange whirled and ranged throughout the cavern. Tarul stood, still motionless, hot wind scorching his face. Ch'gra lay unconscious, her hair blowing in the hot whirlwind. The space around V'rlm was too bright for Tarul's eyes to see.
When the chaos subsided, and the winds dissipated, the wizard was gone. V'rlm's necklace still hung about his neck, though its glass bulb now burned a bright, fiery red.
***
The Nameless One stood on the Flat Rock, surrounded by the wemics of Raalgrr's Pride.
R'ghtlic stood beside him, his power over languages flowing over all who stood there. "Nameless One, I--" R'ghtlic stopped, chuckling. "Now that I think of it, anyone who joins our Order should probably have a name."
He turned to the assembled wemics. "Is there any here who would have a name for this man?"
"I do." It was Ch'gra, still blackened from her wounds, but no less a hunter. "Let us call him--" she smiled. "Let us call him brother."
R'ghtlic nodded once. "So be it, then. You will be called Akbar akh Asad, which in your tongue means 'Blessed Brother of the Lion'. This will be your title, as well as your name, and may the name of your birth be gone from you forever."
R'ghtlic raised his spear over Akbar.
"And so I induct you, Akbar akh Asad, into the Order of Nobanion. May the blessings of the Lion God follow your footsteps. May his mercy comfort you. May his might strengthen you."
Then he strode away from Akbar, leaving him standing in the middle of the Flat Rock. "Now, as is our way, we ask you to publicly account for all you have seen since your training began, and name the lessons you have learned, so that by speaking them publicly you encode them into law and make them the rules by which you must live."
Then Akbar spoke his lessons to them, saying:
I. Know well that which is more precious to you than blood. Eagerly pay that price, for it will be a bargain to you.
II. Seven times must you gaze upon a peer before your judgement of him is final.
III. Defend those who are helpless or persecuted. Speak for those who are downtrodden or oppressed.
IV. When you submit to human authority, give it your honest counsel, then obey its judgement in all things, even when you disagree.
V. Respect the races, knowing that their gifts and their traditions differ one from the other. Honor your race by making the most of your gifts.
VI. Do not be bound by sentimental attachment to material things, but waste not, so that all may have plenty.
VII. Do not strike unwisely or in haste. Patiently await your moment to pounce.
VIII. Punish those who willingly harm the innocent; Nobanion will be your strength and defender.
IX. Be honest and seemly in your dealings and associations.
X. Do not let wrath grow beneath your feet. Be quick to forgive and seek forgiveness.
XI. Let your heart be tender and compassionate, even to those who must be punished.
XII. Be true to your convictions and to your Pride, and you will earn the respect of those around you.
R'ghtlic beamed, leading the assembled crowd in a raucous salute of spears. Then he turned to Akbar and spoke again:
"Akbar akh Asad, when your training is complete, you will go forth into human lands. You will abide amongst them as an ambassador of Lord Firemane. You will represent the Lion God's ways to them, that the name of Nobanion might be spread among the races."
He placed a hand on Akbar's shoulder and added, to Akbar alone: "And when you leave us, you must never speak of this place, or return to it. This is the mission entrusted to you, my Brother. Elohim. Elohim."
***
Epilogue:
From their high perch, the two elder wemics watched horse and rider speed across the desert floor, kicking up a rising cloud of dust.
"You are quite proud of yourself, Loremaster." W'mruu regarded R'ghtlic, who smiled.
"I confess some pride, shaman. For I have found the ambassador I had been commanded to seek. The human has become a righteous man, a follower of Nobanion, and a warrior. Do you see now that even a godless Bedine can know faith, under the right circumstances?"
"Circumstances?" W'mruu spit a little laugh. "Deprived of food and sleep and clothing? Living among people not his own, in darkness, in danger, and shunned? Those were his circumstances. He turned to Nobanion so that the way would be easier for him, for he knew this was what you desired."
"Nonsense! He denied his peoples' ways before he ever came to us. His heart was ready. It was his choice."
"Still, do you think he would have known any faith at all without your intercession? Without your peculiar form of meddling? No, R'ghtlic. He came to Nobanion through your coercion, and nothing else."
"Not so, W'mruu! I watched him carefully. I know his heart. You speak of things you do not know, for you too rarely leave your cave."
W'mruu smiled at this. "Time will tell, then. Let him spend a few winters in human lands. Let him know the temptations of the human cities. Let him experience the unique corruptions of human authorities. Let him strive and gain and lose and suffer as humans do. Then we will see if this faith you have so methodically bestowed is the sort that will last. I will be surprised if the name of Nobanion even crosses his lips in years to come."
"Very well, W'mruu. Let time tell. But how will we know?"
W'mruu frowned, disbelieving his companion's question. "We will know when he returns, R'ghtlic. For he will return," W'mruu added, "in search of comfort. Or wisdom. Or power. He will wring what he can from us. That is what humans do."
"In this, you are wrong, W'mruu." He looked to the rider in the distance. "I hope."
In silence, they stood and watched as the rider turned east and disappeared into the hills.
Last edited by ewayneself on Wed Apr 04, 2007 2:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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RangerDeWood
- Ogre
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psycho_leo
- Rust Monster
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Brokenbone
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Really enjoyable, and for our future purposes, better than the generic 5 line paladin code from the PHB.
As previously discussed with lesson XI: also avoid the bad fats such that monsters may find your heart tasty and unlikely to lead to health complications.
Great stuff.
As previously discussed with lesson XI: also avoid the bad fats such that monsters may find your heart tasty and unlikely to lead to health complications.
Great stuff.
ALFA NWN2 PCs: Rhaggot of the Bruised-Eye, and Bamshogbo
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff
ALFA NWN1 PC: Jacobim Foxmantle
ALFA NWN1 Dead PC: Jon Shieldjack
DMA Staff