by Joel Babbitt
There in front of him, interlaced into the Canticle, was the destiny of his race. There in the words of the Canticle the purpose of his race’s creation was laid bare, and the part that The Creator wanted them to play in the affairs of this world was made clear.
Then, as suddenly as this great understanding was given, it was taken back from him. It was as if great doors with bars and locks had closed in his mind. He was left with only a deep sense of purpose. With tears in his eyes, Lord Karthan closed the old journal and sat back in his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. Though the knowledge had been taken back, still the shadow of the power he had felt remained.
As the intensity of the experience began to ebb, he was suddenly aware that his daughter was speaking to him as she stood there re-reading the parchment containing Two-Toes’ prophecy.
“Well, if I read Two-Toes’ prophecy right, even though the map shows that the stone was lost somewhere in the northern valley, perhaps it, and indeed all five stones, may very well be at Palacid. And I can only think of one dwarf tomb where this key to Palacid is, I guess, and that would have to be in the Hall of the Mountain King up in the northern valley. Perhaps that is the quest you’ve been seeking for the yearling group,” Kiria offered.
Lord Karthan looked at Kiria intensely. “What?”
“We should send the yearling group to find the Kale Stone?” she said hesitantly. Lord Karthan could feel the lingering confirmation that the idea she offered was not only the course of action he should choose for the yearlings’ quest, but would begin them all on the path to fulfilling these prophecies, and their destinies as well.
“Yes!” Lord Karthan stood up. “The yearling group shall recover the Kale Stone!” He knew what must be done, and when he met with the gen’s council, he knew he would make the decision that would put his gen on the path toward fulfilling their destiny.
As he stood over his desk, pondering on the now dead words of the Canticle in his mind, trying to perceive the suddenly hidden meaning within the ashes of the echoes within his heart, Lord Karthan became aware of voices downstairs in the entryway to his house. It was his chief elite warrior talking with one of the guards, bringing news that the council was gathered for the deciding of this year’s quest.
Unaware of the great event which had just occurred in the chambers of her father’s soul, Kiria stood and walked to the door of the library to answer the summons for her father.
Chapter 12 – The Council of Lord Karthan
“Seven is a good number for such a task,” reasoned Kormach Manebrow, Master Trainer of the Kale Gen, before the gen’s council. “Is this not how it always has been done?” He raised his thick, dark reddish-brown eyebrows as he asked the question. At his trials of caste many years ago now, he had been given the honor name Manebrow because of this unique feature which no other kobold had, except now for his three sons. Though most honor names denoted a deed performed, the leader caste who’d given him his honor name had always called him by it, long before he labeled it an honor.
“Aye, but this is no raid on an orc tribe to capture a blacksmith! This is the Kale Stone itself we discuss!” Khee-lar Shadow Hand stated emphatically, shaking his arm in a gesture of frustration, “A quest through unknown peril that could lead them to the very heart of this race’s beginning! How could it possibly fulfill the purposes of The Sorcerer to have the yearlings undertake something so risky? Did He not advise us in the Scrolls of Heritage to Measure prudently the task, and growth will be thy reward?” He paused dramatically before turning from the other leader caste seated around the semi-circular table that lined half of the council chamber to face Lord Karthan again, who sat wearing a simple bronze crown on a high stone chair in between the two halves of the table.
“Aye!” Raoros Fang added his voice to Khee-lar’s, “And, He who wastes the strength of His children shall not be counted a worthy servant! This task is beyond them. It is too much to ask a yearling group to search the darkest nooks in what must surely be the ruins of some ancient citadel for a stone that’s been lost for generations now. And how shall they travel to Palacid if that is where the stone is to be found? Are there not minotaur and orc tribes between here and there, not to mention degenerate, thieving lesser gens? Would you have them travel through the underdark, then, to find safe passage? As if orcs and minotaurs were not enough, there are surely darker and more sinister things in the lower deeps!”
The leader of the Patrol Guard Warrior Group spoke up, though not as passionately perhaps as Khee-lar and Raoros had. “Here, here! This is a pointless task anyway. The stone has been lost for too long. It is probably gone forever down some deep crevice or another, or sealed up in some mended seam of earth.”
Lord Karthan leaned forward on his throne. Deliberately ignoring the Patrol Guard leader’s comments, he looked at Khee-lar and Raoros. “Yes, Raoros, those are His words as recorded in the Scrolls of Heritage. However, is it not written in the third scroll, the Scroll of Our Charge, that we should Look to what is thine, to secure it. Yea, protect thy families, free the captive, maintain the lands of your inheritance, and keep the ancient powers I gifted to you in the time that I formed you. Surely there can be no other interpretation than what I propose.”
“Assumedly,” Khee-lar downplayed Lord Karthan’s comments, “but was it not your own grandfather’s teaching, the same kobold who took the throne from my ancestors when Lord Kale disappeared, that the stone will find us in its own due time.” He paused to look around the room. “Well, if it has such power as this, then why do we waste our effort looking for it?” There were laughs, albeit strained, from various members of the council.
Lord Karthan was taken aback. Khazak Mail Fist had been telling him that Khee-lar had to be part of the growing conspiracy, but he’d not wanted to believe that the brother of his lifemate could possibly be plotting against him. He’d turned a blind eye to his involvement for too long, but now he was beginning to realize that nothing else could explain Khee-lar’s brazen attitude.
Khee-lar’s gaze turned icy cold as he fixed it on Lord Karthan, “Like joining yourself to my older sister—her memory be revered—this is nothing more than another attempt by you,” he said pointing an accusing finger at Lord Karthan, “to solidify your hold on the throne and to keep it from the remnant of the true Kale blood line!”
All compassion for his lifemate’s brother left Lord Karthan’s heart. “Are you challenging my authority?!” he said through clenched teeth.
The room went deathly silent. Though some of them were complicit with Khee-lar Shadow Hand and his Covenant, Khee-lar’s openly brazen actions had caught them unaware. Was he going to strike right now? It was a gut-check for everyone in the room, both supporters and enemies of Lord Karthan alike. Were they really ready for the insurrection to start right now?
The memory was not too distant for all in the room to remember the faces of the last potential usurpers to the throne as they were led bound to the executioner’s block. Next to Lord Karthan, Khazak Mail Fist’s mail clad hand was already on the hilt of his sword. Standing in the center of the council, Manebrow was anxiously aware of the fact that he was unarmed.
Khazak Mail Fist nodded at Lord Karthan’s chief elite warrior who stood at the doorway. Within a few short but tense moments a contingent of well-armed Honor Guard warriors could be heard reinforcing the guard on the council chamber doors. The motive of the act was certainly not lost on anyone in the council chambers.
Khee-lar began to visibly back down, assuming a more submissive demeanor than his fiery rhetoric had previously led him to. He licked his lips, looked around at the other leader caste, then paused before turning to face Lord Karthan again. “Nay. The throne is certainly yours,” Khee-lar said. There was little relief among the group. “Of course, if the stone is found, and your blood is not pure enough to wield it…” Khee-lar’s voice trailed off. The acidic comment had only served to increase the tension in the room yet again.
“If the stone is finda
ble, and Palacid is not just an ancient ruin, as my lord seems to believe, then would this task not be more suited to the greatest of us all” Raoros said, clearly alluding to Lord Karthan on his throne, “not to a group of yearlings!”
Voices of the council members filled the chamber, most echoing Raoros’ sentiment. Among all the voices, however, two kobolds were noticeably silent, Manebrow and Lord Karthan. Though the Lord of the Gen knew that, by law, he did not need the consensus of the council to declare the quest for this year’s yearling group, he had caused much division among the council in times past and had wanted to heal that division.
What he had not seen before, however, was that the division in the council was becoming much deeper and more deadly. He wondered if Khee-lar’s influence among the rest of the council might have grown too strong already. Looking from the warrior group leaders on his left, both present and retired, to the functional leaders on his right, such as the Keeper of the Treasury, the Herb Master, the Lore Master and such, he saw a lot less support than he had expected. Tonight he would use words and others’ logic to attempt to sway the council to accept his guidance, but in his heart he believed that it would not be long before broadswords would be needed.
Finally, Lord Karthan spoke, “If I may ask…” he started.
Standing next to the throne, his large, very muscular chamberlain bristled at the disorder. “Silence!” Khazak Mail Fist’s booming voice echoed through the hall as he pounded the stone once with his staff of office. As chamberlain and leader of the Honor Guard, Khazak’s charge in this setting was clear; to keep order, by the sword if necessary. “Lord Karthan would speak!”
All the council ceased their discussion presently. There was almost an air of defiance from several of the council members in the council chamber, and even Khazak’s intimidating manner brought less compliance than normal. It seemed as though Khee-lar’s open dissent had emboldened those who had disagreements with the lord of the gen.
“If I may ask, Manebrow…” Lord Karthan paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. He wondered if, perhaps with a bit of a push, Manebrow might not provide the arguments needed to persuade the more loyal members of the council to accept the idea of sending this year-group off to find Palacid and the Kale Stone.
“Lord Karthan, how may I serve?” Manebrow stated, his furred brow raising as he looked from side to side. He was rocking slightly as he stood with his hands clutched tightly behind his back.
“Manebrow,” Lord Karthan started, “you know this year-group is very small, being conceived in a year of drought and famine. Tell me, what leads you to suggest that such a small group of yearlings could do this thing?”
Manebrow breathed in, turned his head slightly to one side then looked Lord Karthan squarely in the eyes. “As for their number, a smaller number would have an easier time not attracting the notice of the larger things in this world. After all, we’re not attempting to take Palacid by force, but rather find a stone within it.” There seemed to be general agreement on this point, or at least a lack of disagreement. Perhaps the group was, in fact, coming back from the brink of open insurrection. Manebrow continued. “However, the matter of why these particular yearlings I have nothing more than my judgment. I can explain if you wish.”
Lord Karthan nodded his assent. “Say on, master trainer.”
“My lord,” Manebrow continued, “I have trained many cycles of yearlings now, and have watched each of them as they grow from a scattered group of individuals to a team. Sometimes there are a few that form their own team but leave the rest of the group out, and the year-group as a whole never comes together. Now it is true that many fail the individual tests, but sometimes the strong leave the weaker ones to fail in the group exercises. And finally, some groups never learn to push each other, to achieve more together.”
Raoros Fang stood up, “I fail to see what that has to do with the matter at hand, Master Manebrow. Get on with it, will you!”
“I have not seen a yearling group of such quality,” Manebrow continued undaunted. “Though they compete for the one position of elite warrior that the council has allocated for this group, there is little contention among them. For the most part they lead and follow with equal intensity. Rarely do they take criticism with their hearts; usually they take it with a mind open to betterment. There is a sense about them of being destined for a great work. It shows in their daily efforts. It shows in their attitude.” Manebrow looked from leader to leader around the table as he talked. It was an accurate enough description of the group, though shined up a bit perhaps for the leader caste of the gen.
“This group has a mix of talent that no other group I’ve trained has possessed.” Manebrow held up his hand and began to count them off on his fingers one at a time. “Trallik is an exceptional scout. Durik and Keryak are trainers of wolves and pack dogs and are mastering their style with the fighting spear. Gorgon is stronger than almost any other kobold in the gen and is formidable with the hammer. Arbelk can climb better than most any in the Deep Guard and climbed the cliff known as Sheerface by hand.” With the reminder of what had happened upon the yearlings’ return, the group of leaders began to murmur and talk among themselves again. “He is very skilled in the sword, and is only exceeded in skill by Troka. Jerrig can hit the center spot at a distance of forty paces with his javelins.” Manebrow paused, his voice was loud with the passionate care he felt for his young trainees. “Each one is smart, and more focused than most yearlings I’ve trained. They are a team already. Together, they will be able to achieve great things. They are ready for this task,” Manebrow finished, wondering if he’d spoken too highly of the yearlings. But no, they were his yearlings, and he decided that he would take nothing back from the words he had spoken.
“Well you speak, Master Trainer,” spoke Lord Karthan, “and passionately enough as well.” There was murmuring among some of the assembled leaders.
This was playing out better than Lord Karthan had thought it would. He had initially thought that he might have to champion the yearlings, but in Manebrow he had found enough championing… and a means to distract the council members from the outright dissention Khee-lar had manifested. Lord Karthan now decided to push for what he had decided just before this council.
“But for all their virtues, they are still a group of yearlings that has not the benefit of wisdom and temperance that more years may bring.” Again, a murmur of agreement, this time from more council members. “I think, therefore, that you should go with them.”
There was immediate silence. All in the assembly looked at Lord Karthan in stunned silence, not the least of which was Manebrow. He was so stunned that he did not realize that Lord Karthan was still speaking to him.
“You shall provide the experience and temperance they lack.” Lord Karthan finished.
After a moment, Manebrow realized that Lord Karthan was still addressing him, and began to stammer, “Ye… yes, my lord” he managed to force out.
Khee-lar Shadow Hand stood. “Lord Karthan, may I remind you of the Scrolls of Heritage? Every year-group is given a task to perform… by themselves.”
“I understand well the Scrolls. However, I think the quest for which our Master Trainer has championed this year-group is vital to the interests of this gen. As such, I place accomplishment of this mission over a rule that has been our tradition, but is not law.” Strong debate erupted throughout the hall, which for some served to distract and distance them further from the seditious talk of several moments before. For others it brought them closer to Khee-lar’s tone of open rebellion. Some shouted in favor of Lord Karthan’s decision, some held the line against it. After a minute or more of debate between the many leaders at the tables, Lord Karthan held up his hand. He had hoped to handle this better, perhaps to unite the council rather than polarize it further. Now he knew what must be done, and he resigned himself to doing it.
“I know the counsel that some of you would give. I know that many of you, rather than break traditi
on, would break the yearlings against tradition,” he started. “I say that it shall not be so. The yearlings will take this quest, and they will command more than is traditionally theirs to command. With them I will send Manebrow, who shall be a leader of five seasoned warriors to be chosen from the warrior groups.” There were many shouts of dissent and disbelief among the assembled leaders.
“And when shall they lead themselves if Manebrow leads them?!” shouted one.
“And what warriors will you take?!” shouted another.
“Adding in warriors, not just yearlings, in such numbers now means an Adventurer Class must be chosen from the leader caste! Would you send a warrior group leader to lead them as well?”
“Nay, I will make a leader caste for this purpose,” Lord Karthan shook his head in the midst of the confusion.
“This cannot be! We have no vacancies in the counsel!”
“You lead this gen further and further away from doing the will of The Sorcerer, Karthan!” This last voice was Khee-lar Shadow Hand’s. “Too long has your line been on the throne.”
Only the family loyalty Lord Karthan had clung to, a legacy of the love he had for his long departed lifemate, kept Lord Karthan from acting decisively against Khee-lar, her brother. Khazak Mail Fist knew this, but he could still clearly see the open insurrection in Khee-lar’s eyes and would have nothing of it. “Lord Karthan, is this not proof enough?” he said, pointing a hand at Khee-lar. “Tonight that imposter Mynar the Sorcerer from the Krall Gen has tried to poison you and all your household. Also tonight Khee-lar’s chief elite warrior Trelkar sends an assassin to kill you in your sleep.” Khazak spoke plainly for all to understand. “Where there are two conspirators, surely there are three. Are Khee-lar’s words not proof enough that he is truly part of this conspiracy?”