“Varnar will agree to do what I ask of him, if he tries to deny me…I will just have to give him a reason to change his mind.” Tartum thought to himself. Confident in his plan to convince Varnar to make the ring, a sinister grin speard on his face. Looking out the window, he allowed Oldrake to continue his tour of the keep.
Oldrake pointed out the window towards a massive building that was shaped to look like a sphere. Hundreds of windows were carved into the walls, each of which had the red-orange light of a forge glowing from it. The center of the great sphere had been hollowed out, and the top removed, to reveal a large molten pit that was surrounded by enormous bellows that were constantly pumping air into the fire keeping the mass red hot.
“There, in the center of the forge, the largest pit, that be Varnar’s forge. I’ll bring ye there to talk with yer friend. I’ll send a wagon for ye later that will bring ye to me pub. There, at the request of our mutual friend, ye will have food and lodging provided for ye, until yer business be concluded.” Oldrake said. Tartum was surprised by his statement. The thought of lodgings had never occurred to him. Once again, if it hadn’t been for Isidor’s intervention and Oldrake’s sense of duty, he would have found himself in a jam.
“Thank you, Oldrake, I’m in your debt.” Tartum said gratefully.
Oldrake waved away his gratitude, “While I must admit, I only came for ye due to a debt I owed our friend, I have come to like ye, Tartum Fuin, and would have offered ye a room at me pub for a modest price had we met under different circumstances.” he said gruffly. Tartum couldn’t be sure but he thought that the young dwarf was embarrassed by this admission. Before he could pursue the topic further Oldrake jumped down from the window they stood at and walked towards the door.
“Come lad, we be here!” he said as he opened the door and exited the wagon. Tartum was baffled by the dwarf’s reaction to his gratitude, but he found he was getting used to that. Gathering up his things, he called out to Buddy and joined Oldrake outside the wagon. Now that he had arrived the thought of having the first part of his ring forged sent goose bumps popping up all over his body. He was looking forward to beginning his negotiations with Varnar.
…
As he exited the wagon, he was hit with wave after wave of hot, humid air coming from the furnaces of the massive forge. Instinctively, he held up his staff in an attempt to shield himself from the blasts. It did little good to stop the waves of heat rolling over him, but he found it wasn’t unbearable. Buddy had walked behind him and was now using Tartum’s body to shield himself from the blasts. Oldrake didn’t seem to be affected by the change at all, nor did he seem to notice the fact that they were. He was walking towards a door that led into the forge, not seeing any other choice, Tartum braced himself and chased after him. Oldrake was a good twenty yards ahead of them and had thrown open a large stone door that was wide enough for three dwarves to pass through standing shoulder to shoulder. The doorway was a little low, so Tartum had to duck before entering or risk slamming his head into the wall. As soon as he was inside, the waves of heat stopped buffeting him, and he was greeted by a crisp, cool environment that soothed his frayed nerves and made him feel welcome.
He was standing in a small room, just tall enough for him to stand upright in. It was a simple room consisting of four stone walls, a ceiling, and a floor. The doorway they had entered through stood behind them, while another doorway that closely resembled the other resided in front of them. An ominous orange-red glow emanated from it, yet Tartum felt no heat or wind. Upon closer inspection, Tartum noticed small, finely etched runic symbols that ran along the borders of the doorways. Grinning to himself, he understood why this room was so comfortable, the runes must have kept the heat waves from the forges at bay, making this room the perfect place to negotiate for services the dwarven smiths provided.
A long rope hung from the center of the room, and as they entered, he saw Oldrake pulling on it. The rope gave only slightly and then returned to its original position. Tartum heard no bells or alarms; in fact, he saw no change at all. Oldrake winked at him.
“No one but the crafters be allowed past this point. The forges be sacred amongst me people; patience, lad, they’ll be along soon.” he explained.
Nodding, Tartum did as he was bid and waited. A thought occurred to him as he stood there, and he removed his pack. Shifting the contents around he pulled out the large bag of coins Dannurn had given him for Thorn. He hoped that by starting off their reunion with a gift of such magnitude it would make Varnar more amenable to his needs. At the very least it felt like the right thing to do. Reshouldering his pack, Tartum stood and waited for Varnar to appear. After a few minutes, Tartum saw the shadows of a dwarf and a man darken the doorway he was not allowed to go through.
Varnar emerged from the doorway first. His stout frame was dripping with sweat, and he was covered in soot and grime. He wore a heavy leather apron over his chest with trousers to match. He still wore the same stone boots Tartum had seen him wear when they first met, which still fascinated him. He couldn’t help but marvel at the runic magic responsible for making such ungainly boots so lightweight and practical. Varnar’s boots weren’t what caught his attention the most however. The last time Tartum had seen Varnar, he had slipped on a pair of long leather gloves just as he got close. Now the gloves were gone, and Tartum could see what he had been hiding by wearing them. From his wrists down, Varnar’s hands were the color of flame. At first, he thought it was a brilliant tattoo or some kind of trick of the light, but as he watched his hands he saw the flames moving inside his skin. An elbow in his ribs brought him out of his amazement as he angrily looked down at Oldrake, who was looking up at him with equal anger.
“It is not polite to stare, lad…” he warned.
Tartum swallowed his retort as he looked back at Varnar. The look on his face seemed equal parts surprise and irritation. Thorn was now behind his master, dressed to match him exactly with the exception of the stone boots.
“Tartum? Is that you?” Varnar asked in amazement. “Is this the same lad that almost killed himself by eating mah stew and then spent the night getting drunk on Paiste Grúdaigh?” Varnar was smiling now as he walked quickly towards Tartum to greet him.
“It does mah eyes good to see you again, lad!” Varnar said. He was grinning through his beard, and Tartum found he was very happy to see him as well.
“It has been too long, my friend.” Tartum replied. A whimpering bark interrupted their conversation as Varnar turned to face a very excited Buddy. Varnar’s grin burst into a toothy smile when he saw Buddy dancing around in excitement.
“Well now! It would seem that you’ve gained yourself an animal companion, lad!” Varnar said to Tartum. Slapping his legs, he called to Buddy, “Come on over here, boy, let ole Varnar have a look at ya!”
It was all the encouragement Buddy needed. Scrambling over the stone floor, Buddy threw himself into Varnar, bursting into a flurry of whimpering and dog kisses. Tartum laughed at the sight of Buddy disarming the dwarf so completely. Varnar was petting Buddy with one hand while trying to dodge his affections with the other. The whole time he filled the room with his roaring laughter. The scene went on for a while, only stopping when Thorn cleared his throat impatiently. The sound remined Tartum of an avalanche, and his tone was not lost on anyone in the room. Jumping away from Varnar, Buddy placed himself defensively between himself and Thorn. He didn’t growl, but he kept a watchful eye on Thorn, giving him a look that let everyone in the room know what his intentions were if he got to close to his master. Standing up, Varnar was still laughing as he looked at his annoyed apprentice.
“Bah! There be nothing wrong with a man enjoying the company of an animal such as Tartum’s dog there!” he said chastising Thorn. Pointing a finger at the big man, he continued, “Maybe you wouldn’t be such a sourpuss if you found yourself a good pet to keep you company!”
Thorn said nothing, but the look on his face could have killed a lesser man. Varnar was
unimpressed. “Save your fierce looks for someone else, boy! We both know who would come out on top in a fight, and we both know that would not be you!” he said, clearly irritated. Tartum watched as the big man’s face softened, and he suddenly looked beaten. It surprised him that Thorn’s spine was made of paper, but instead of further antagonizing the situation, he decided to try and change the subject altogether.
“Thorn! It is good to see you again as well! I look forward to buying you a drink at the Bottom Barrel later!” he said cheerfully. Varnar made a dismissing gesture at the big man and walked over to Oldrake speaking to him in dwarven.
Thorn looked up at Tartum and smiled weakly. “Sure, Tartum, that sounds good.” he replied. His voice was just as gravely and sullen as he remembered it. After hearing about his past from Dannurn, he supposed his demeanor made sense. Hefting the bag of coins, he decided now was a good time to try and change all that.
“Thorn, I have something for you. Since we last met, I find myself a citizen of Yucoke.” As he spoke the town’s name, Thorn’s head shot up and his gaze became intense. Varnar looked up as well, but the look on his face was concern, not anger. Not understanding Tartum continued, “Dannurn said you used to live there too, and he asked me to find you and bring you this bag of gold. He said to tell you there’s always a place for you in Yucoke and to tell you that the Boggs have all been killed.” Tartum said with a smile.
Thorn’s reaction was not what he expected. Moving with a speed Tartum wouldn’t have thought possible for a man his size, he crossed the room in a second, knocking Buddy away with one hand and slapping the bag of coins out of Tartum’s with the other. Stunned by the unprovoked assault, Tartum didn’t have time to react.Thorn’s hand gripped his shoulders painfully as he picked Tartum off the ground and slammed him against the wall. The blind fury in Thorn’s eyes sent cold waves of fear shooting down Tartum’s spine.
“WHO KILLED THEM!?!” Thorn bellowed into his face. His breath was hot against his cheek, stinking of old ale and fury. Looking around frantically for some sign of aid, he saw Oldrake and Varnar standing to the side with Varnar holding Buddy at bay. Thru the racing thoguhts in his mind, it registered that his pet seemed to have been unharmed by Thorn’s attack. Buddy now struggled against Varnar’s grip biting and snarling at Thorn. Tartum saw that Buddy was no match for Varnar’s strength and knew no help would be coming. His mind reeled as he tried to understand why Thorn was reacting to him this way. The look of anger on Thorn’s face became vicious when he realized Tartum wasn’t going to answer him. His dome spell had protected him from Thorn’s initial attack, but by doing so, it had been dispelled. Tartum was wracked with pain as he was slammed against the wall for a second time.
“WHO!?!?” he screamed. Tartum had enough. His anger rose up, banishing the fear and confusion. He no longer cared about why Thorn had attacked him; now all he cared about was making the man pay for his mistake. Opening himself to the magic, Tartum began rummaging through the pouches on his belt until he found the one that held his candle wax. Digging his fingers into the pouch, Tartum scraped off a chunk and infused it with his magic. Looking down into Thorn’s hate filled eyes, Tartum matched the man’s fury before bellowing his reply.
“I DID!” he spat into the man’s face. His sight went red. As it did, he saw the shell of anger Thorn had wrapped himself in crack. It was all the opportunity he needed.
“ANJUWAR UB-LAER!!!” he roared. The wax melted off his finger, and a pulse of force shot into Thorn’s stomach, sending him flying across the room. As the force of the blast hit him, he released his grip on Tartum’s shoulders, and Tartum had landed on his feet. He advanced on Thorn, who was now lying prone on the ground, coughing violently. Pulling a few rose petals from his pouch, Tartum began to infuse them with his magic when Varnar and Oldrake stepped infront of him. For a moment, Tartum didn’t recognize them, but the guiding voice in his head was strong and urged him to stop. Reluctantly, Tartum obeyed the voice and released his hold on the magic. His anger subsided quickly as the weakness washed over him. Pulling his staff from his back, Tartum used it to support him as he went to check on Buddy.
“Good show, lad!” Oldrake said as he followed him. Tartum noticed that the young dwarf was careful to keep himself between him and Thorn.
Varnar had walked over to help Thorn, but the big man recovered before the dwarf reached him and bolted out of the room. Tartum wasn’t sure if it was out of humiliation or anger, but he welcomed the chance to finish what he started if the fool tried again. Varnar’s gaze followed Thorn out the door, the expression on his face reminded Tartum of the way Isidor looked at him shortly before abandoning him in Saroth.
“That’s mah fault, lad.” Varnar said as he shook his head sadly. “I should have stopped you the moment you mentioned Yucoke. Dannurn is a damn fool for sending you here to give him that gold and dig up old ghosts.” Varnar said, as he slammed his fist into the wall. His sudden outburst shocked Tartum, but he quietly waited for the dwarf to continue.
“I don’t know how much that fool told you, but Thorn’s wife was killed by the Boggs almost four years ago. Back then he was a simple merchant just starting out in the town. The way he tells, it Kinton Bogg, the head of that wretched family, used to ask him for handouts once or twice a week. Thorn took pity on the man and gave him what he could. At first, Kinton seemed grateful for his generosity. It wasn’t long before the humble begging became threatening demands. Eventually, Thorn refused to give him anymore handouts and threatened to ban him from his store. Kinton stayed away for a little while, which lead Thorn to believe the problem was solved. One night he and his wife were closing their shop for the night when Kinton and his boys kicked in the door and barged inside. They were armed with clubs and began busting up his store. He tried to stop them, but he was a wisp of a man back then, and they quickly overpowered him. As he lay on the floor broken and bleeding, he watched as Kinton’s boys pulled his wife away and beat her to death. Over the next few months, he stayed with Dannurn as his body healed. The mayor has a good heart, but his spine is made of butter, and he refused to do what needed to be done to set right the wrongs the Boggs had done to Thorn and his wife.” Varnar took a deep breath and blinked his eyes a few times before continuing.
“I had met Thorn and his wife during my first visit to Yucoke. They were a wonderful couple that loved each other very much. Ach, she was as pretty as a ruby and twice as valuable, lad…They invited me into their home without hesistation, and she would cook for me some of the finest pastries I’d ever eaten. I made a point to stop by Yucoke on my way to Saroth as often as I could just so I could visit them. The last time I was in Yucoke, three months had passed since her death, and I was heart broken when Thorn told me what happened.” Varnar wiped at his eyes with a rag he pulled out of his pocket. After blowing his nose, he put the rag away and continued.
“When he told me what happened, I went into a rage. I would have killed the Boggs myself, but Dannurn forbid me to meddle in the town’s affairs. I couldn’t go against the town’s wishes. Mah guild’s laws are clear, if the acting government of a foreign city forbids an act, trade, or ruling, then we must abide by it lest we risk forfeiture of our titles and status back at Windswept Keep. I did the only thing I could think of, I made Thorn an offer. The man he was could never avenge his wife, I offered to bring him here to Windswept, give him a new home and teach him a trade. Later, when he had put some meat on his bones and learned to wield a weapon, I would return him to Yucoke; he could exact his revenge if he still chose to do so.” Varnar sighed again and looked down at his feet. “So, as you can see, lad. You killing them has taken his vengeance from him. It’s not your fault, I know you had no idea, and the Gods know the Boggs deserved to die for a hundred reasons, the least of which was his wife’s murder. Let him be for now, let him figure this out in his own way. If he returns, we can see where it goes from here. Let the rocks fall where they may, as the saying goes.” Varnar said.
Walk
ing over to the rope, Varnar pulled on it twice and then flashed Tartum a smile. Motioning to the bag of coins that had been knocked to the ground, he chuckled, “Now, let us discuss why you traveled all this way just to visit me. Oldrake says you have some work for me, and I must admit I am intrigued on what such a young caster could possibly want from me.” As he finished speaking, two very young looking dwarves came rushing into the room. One carried a stone table while the other had three stone chairs. They quickly arranged them in the middle of the room, pushing the rope to the side. They were gone almost as fast as they arrived, and Varnar motioned for him to sit. The table was made with dwarves in mind, but one of the chairs that had been brought in looked big enough to suit a human of Tartum’s size. Sitting down, he found the chair very uncomfortable, but seeing that Oldrake and Varnar made no mention of it, he leaned forward and pretended it didn’t bother him. Now both dwarves were looking up at him expectantly.
He thought about how to begin, he considered reciting the same lie he had given Oldrake, but recalling the young dwarf’s reacation, he decided it was a poor idea. After a few moments of internal debate, he decided his best option would be to be honest with him; even if only vaguely so.
“Varnar, I have need of your skills. I need a ring made out of diamonds for an enchantment spell I wish to cast. The spell specifically calls for the ring to be made through a process called unioning, which I’m hoping you know how to do.” he said. Placing the bag on the table that contained his collection of diamonds, Tartum motioned for Varnar to take it as he continued, “In that bag are enough diamonds for the work. If there are any left over after the ring is complete, considered them a bonus. Of course, I am willing to pay whatever price you consider reasonable, my friend.” he finished with a smile. Now that his cards were on the table, a sense of anticipation came over him as he waited for Varnar’s response.
Varnar said nothing. He reached across the table and picked up the bag of diamonds Tartum had presented to him. Opening the bag, he dumped the five medium sized stones into his hands and began inspecting them carefully. Tartum tried to gauge the dwarf’s reactions as he rolled the diamonds around in his hands and put a small device up to his eye. He seemed to be analyzing every facet of the stones. Reading Varnar’s face was like trying to find emotion in stone, so Tartum gave up trying. Instead, he busied himself with looking at the dwarf’s hands. The strange flame coloration in his skin fascinated him, the flames seemed to flicker as his hands moved, creating the illusion that his hands were actually on fire if he moved to fast. Tartum wondered if it was some sort of dwarven optical illusion, or if his ability with runic magic caused his skin to be discolored. It wasn’t until Oldrake elbowed him in the ribs again that he realized how captivated he had become with the mystery of his hands. The jolt of pain shooting through his torso brought him back to reality, and Tartum forced his scrutiny away from his friend’s hands.
The Jade Mage: The Becoming: Volume 2 Page 33