by Leo deSouza
“It seems like fate is trying to hit a last trick on us, as if a bigger will is making an effort to prevent us from advancing!” Olaf said.
“No force will stop me!” Torag replied. “I can already feel the warm of the halls and the smell of good food there inside the Red Star City! No, my friend Olaf, nothing will stay between me and my deserved rest!”
A lightning strike hit nearby, the sound echoed through the canyon.
“Yes! Send more!” Torag shouted. “Here is a dwarf who is not afraid of storms, I’ve been facing scarier things for a while!”
The travelling became more difficult, they all walked close to the cliff wall, distancing from the ravine, the ram growled loudly as Rurur pulled him.
“Don’t worry Jewelry! We are almost there!” Olaf spoke.
“Lucky Jewelry!” Torag shouted against the wind. “I think we will not need to turn him into steak after all, there are filled larders ahead.”
Thuor stopped on a rock and pointed ahead. “There!” He shouted against the wind.
The other ones looked out and saw afar what they came to identify as their destination. A structure near the top of one mountain peak, not close but still enough for them to take an impression about its loftiness, the dwelling of the Thick Beard Clan, the Red Star City. But right when Thuor jumped to the path again, the rock under his feet rolled, he lost poise and fell, rolling together with the boulder towards the slit border, Torag jumped towards his captain trying to hold him but was not fast enough, Thuor fell.
“Captain!” Rurur exclaimed.
Everyone came to the border of the precipice and crouched to look down.
“Where is he?” Olaf shouted.
The wind blew hard, making everyone tremble, the rain was striking, Torag squinted as he looked down trying to find Thuor. “There!” He said pointing somewhere.
They could see the captain fallen down there on a rocky platform, he did not fall down to the bottom and was now laying some distance below. Torag went to the ram and took from the saddle a coil of rope, he tied it to a nearby rock tip and then on his own waist, the dwarf prepared to go down. “Take it!” He shouted as he reached his backpack and weapons to Olaf.
“How will ye do it?” Rurur shouted, his voice barely heard against the wind.
“Ye will need to pull us up! Wait for my signal!” Torag replied.
Rurur and Olaf nodded, the tied dwarf passed the border of the precipice and began to climb down, the other ones took care of the rope. They saw Torag going down on the cliff, being shaken by the wind and dealing with the streams of water falling over the rocky wall, and when he finally reached Thuor down there, the other ones realized how fast and cunning of a dwarf he was.
Torag approached Thuor. “Captain! Get up!” He shouted.
But no answer came, the captain was unconscious, Torag took from the ground the captain’s war hammer, he untied the rope from himself and enrolled the captain’s waist with it, then he pulled it two times and waved to Olaf and Rurur up there, they saw the signal.
“Let’s make the ram pull it!” Olaf spoke as he came to the rock tip and untied it.
Rurur began to unload the saddle on the ground, he clumsily dropped many things as the storm was hitting hard; when he finally managed to unload the ram he tied the rope to its horns and slapped the animal’s hip. “Go Jewelry!” He exclaimed.
The animal stepped ahead with much effort, the two dwarfs came after him also pulling the rope, Thuor began to be lifted. This was not that a hard of a task for them, it did not take long for the captain to be taken again to the path, and so it was Torag’s turn to climb, something that he made even faster as he helped with his own arms and legs climbing the rocky wall. When they all gathered again on the path, everyone was dirty and breathless. A lightning strike hit a cliff nearby, resounding loudly, making everyone deaf for a moment.
“What now?” Olaf shouted trying to be heard.
Torag looked down to the stuff taken from the saddle and saw much of their food and goods wasted on the ground as the water passed, some of it had even fell down the slit. “Forget about the saddle!” He shouted as he crouched and held the captain.
Olaf and Rurur took what they could from the ground and put it on their backpacks. Torag hesitated for a moment, then he lifted Thuor and put him on the ram’s back. “We must reach the city! Otherwise this damn storm will kill us all!” He said.
The other ones just nodded and quickly stepped forward on the path. Rurur came behind the ram, pushing it, Olaf was now pulling the rope tied to the animal’s horns, helping him to carry the captain, and Torag led the group, testing the rocks on the path ahead so they could step with safety. It was a hard time for the dwarfs and for the ram but after spending half the afternoon on that difficult walking, they reached a new shelter, this one was not a cave, just a rock platform to hide under, but it had protection enough for them to rest for a while. The storm was now much stronger than the day before, many lightning strikes were hitting around and the sound of the thunders reverberated through the canyon, they sat and rested.
“Captain.” Torag said as he gently slapped Thuor’s face.
The captain did not reply, the ram was agitated, Rurur saw that one of his paws was bleeding with a large wound opened. “Oh no… Jewelry must have cut himself on a sharp rock.” He spoke.
“What do we do, Torag?” Asked Olaf looking to him.
This one looked around as if thinking. “We can not stay here. This storm will not pass so soon.” He said.
“It’s too risky!” Olaf broke. “I say we should stay here and wait for it to pass. We will end up slipping down into the slit!”
Right after his speech, a huge boulder rolled, passing by their side and kicking downslope into the canyon, they heard the sound of it hitting the river at the slit bottom. For a moment no one said anything, Rurur was stanching the bleeding on the ram’s paw with a piece of torn clothing, the animal was moaning. “His paw is deeply wounded! I can’t hold the bleeding.” The dwarf said.
“Oh no…” Olaf spoke. “What now? How will we take the captain?”
“Leaving behind all of our stuff and carrying him on our back if necessary.” Torag broke in.
“What about Jewelry? We can’t leave him here!” Rurur said.
Now Torag examined the animal’s wound. “It is not that bad.” He said. “A last effort for us all. We must go ahead.”
Olaf and Rurur looked at each other, but they gave no answer. The group left the shelter and started the walking again, thunders, wind blows and a rain so heavy that made the dwarfs feel like a big weight was smashing them.
“This is madness, Torag! Let’s go back to the shelter!” Olaf shouted.
“No!” Torag replied. “We can not stay there with captain Thuor like this. He needs help!” He then took from Thuor’s belt a bugle and blew it, the sound echoed through the canyon, surprisingly louder than the dwarfs were expecting, it even surpassed the storm noise for a moment, then Torag sounded it one more time.
“No one will come Torag!” Olaf shouted as he put fairy Vixen back inside his clothes.
Rurur noticed that the ram was now losing his strength as he carried the captain, his legs were trembling and the animal had a weak mien, but Torag just stepped ahead, motioning to the others to follow him as if ignoring everything. It took the rest of the afternoon for them to finally come really close to the city gate entrance, it was only then that they realized how big and imposing the city was. A big structure rising from the mountain slope almost on its peak, made of grey stone and adorned with the typical dwarf structure, though a little bit different from the RockFoot one; they could see many banners shaking against the hard wind, and on the top of the structure, carved in high relief, a huge eight-pointed red star. The path had now turned into a paved road, larger than the Narrow Passage, but still narrow, when they finally stepped in front of the city’s gatehouse, everyone felt relieved for reaching the destination alive, it was then that J
ewelry came down, the animal fell on the ground. Torag came to it and raised Thuor, lifting him to his own arms, Rurur crouched and approached the animal’s head, Jewelry was breathing slowly, one could see his forces waning.
“Oh… My friend… We are about to finish this, don’t give up now.” Rurur said.
Torag looked up to the gatehouse, he blew the bugle again and shouted: “Open the gates! Open the gates! We are RockFoot!”
Someone showed up from the wall, an armored dwarf looked down to them, a moment after the sound of metallic hinges was heard, the gate began to open, Torag looked at the others with a shy smile, the best he could to enjoy finally reaching the end of that difficult travel, but he now saw Olaf and Rurur near the ram with a dismayed mien.
“He is dead, he did not handle the effort…” Rurur whispered.
As tough as Torag was, he could not dodge from feeling pity for the dead animal and the other dwarfs, he was about to say something when two armored guards came from the opened gate. “Who are ye, and why do ye come?” One of them asked.
“We came from the RockFoot Stronghold to the north! This is captain Thuor, master chief of arms of our dwelling.” Torag replied pointing to Thuor who he held by one arm. “He fell on the slit, he needs help!”
The guards came to him and took Thuor to inside the city, Rurur was sitting on the ground gently caressing the ram’s head, Torag approached and pulled his arm, forcing him to rise. “Come, Rurur, Jewelry is dead.” He said.
“So much time devoted to our company, carrying our packs, fighting our foes alongside us… And now a last effort… To carry the captain himself… A last giving after all, Jewelry donated us his life.” Rurur said, sadly.
The rain was still falling, the wind blew and the lightning sounded around, but Rurur stood there with his ram still for some moments, alongside with Torag and Olaf, till they all finally entered the stronghold of the Thick Beards.
The Red Star City .
The accident with Thuor and the death of Jewelry were two happenings that changed the mood of the company. As soon as they entered the city they were well welcomed by their kin, help for the unconscious captain was provided and in no time he was laying on a bed being treated by many woman dwarfs whose skills in cure and regeneration were known throughout the east. The interior of this stronghold was something different from the RockFoot one, its walls, ceiling and floor were made in a grey toned marble, very well finished pieces of it perfectly arranged to compose a typical dwarf dwelling, regarding to its typical architecture and frame. Well lightened, clean, roomy and comfortable was this place, for the dwarfs living under this ceiling, their Thick Beard surname had a special meaning. Every dwarf in this place grew a vast pompous thick beard, the longer and thicker it was, the more respectable was the dwarf, brown and rufous were the tones of them, and one could see how these folks always bore their beards, never cutting it, never hiding it under clothes. Olaf, Torag and Rurur were also welcomed there, for them, good accommodation, food and drink was provided, as well as the warm camaraderie of their kin, but none of this was enough to take off from their faces the sadness mien. Days have passed, now they rested there under the protection of the Stronghold, waiting for an answer from the healers about their captain, each one merged in his own thoughts. Rurur took care of burying Jewelry properly outside the fortress, under the snow that was already falling outside, and there he sang a song about friendship that no one heard, for he went alone for this task. Right now, the three dwarfs were sitting on marble chair blocks around a marble table, surrounded by many hosts as they drank and chatted, there was even a dwarf playing a strange instrument, like the accordion we know, but its sound was deeper and the dwarf played quietly a melancholic song without any vocals, yet enough to merge everyone there in a lull. Folks were around, including ordinary dwarfs and even warriors dressed in their metallic armors, they heard as Olaf told the story of his company since they left their Stronghold in the north. “…And so we came to cross with the assassins of the Black Viper Guild.” He was saying.
“Black Viper ones! Heh… Thought they were just a legend.” One of the Thick Beards spoke.
“Well, they are not much more than a legend now, buried under grass and ground, but their bones could still tell the story.” Torag said with a perky tone.
“How did ye deal with them? How were their weapons? Did they throw poisoned darts on ye?” The Thick Beard one continued.
“Poisoned darts, knifes, arrows and all kind of wicked craft, but my eyes are fast, and my axe is restless.” Torag said.
“As well as your belly when it comes to relief yourself.” Olaf said. “The assassins almost caught us unprepared, it was just that Torag was making his necessities hid in the grass and saw them sneaking.
An old dwarf sitting in a corner coughed to speak: “Among all the stories ye told us, the one I like more is about the goblins, how smart from your captain was to plan to burn the surroundings of the fort, guess the goblins got scared like running deer!”
“I like the elfs story more!” Said another one. “I wonder how one could live so far from the ground on those giant trees, guess these folks must be quite light and skilled to walk on branches like you told, like squirrels.”
“I could tell about one elf, that one was actually more like a clumsy egret…” Torag whispered.
“What about the wilding dwarfs? Did ye come to meet them again?” One warrior asked.
Olaf shook his head. “No… Fortunately not. They got…”
“Slain!” Torag broke in. “By savage beasts…”
Another warrior snorted, he pointed to Olaf and spoke: “I’ll tell ye what. Listen to me, this is all bad omens, rumors of war.”
A noise was heard among the present ones, Rurur took a gulp of tea, he had a strange mien, like someone who suddenly got concerned.
“Ye don’t talk about what ye don’t understand!” Someone else spoke.
“Don’t I understand?” Continued the previous one. “Who are ye to say this? Did ye hear our orders to keep watching the skies all the day and night? What about them doubling the valiance towards the Underground Path? Why do ye think they are doing this?”
“It is true, the garrisons are moving.” Said another voice.
Another dwarf broke into the conversation: “None of ye know what ye are talking about. Our fortress is unbreakable, no army nor treat can come through the Narrow Passage, not to say from under the ground, through the mountain roots.”
“Then we don’t even need warriors or vigilance anymore!” A dwarf woman said, and as she did, everyone else muted.
Torag and the others found curious how they respected the dwarf woman.
“That is it! Our city is safe!” Someone else spoke.
A squabble begun, everyone talked and gestured trying to say something about the matter, Olaf and Rurur just looked at each other.
“…When the evil comes from the ground to take us!” This last part of a speech sounded loudly among the others, making everyone silent.
“What?” Olaf asked.
Now everyone looked at him, the one who spoke turned to Olaf and replied: “Don’t ye know? Our fortress has only two entrances, one is the passage from which ye came, through the canyon no army could march, the other one is the underground passage.”
“I know. So what?” Olaf insisted.
The talking one smiled and looked at everyone around, as if finding it strange that someone did not know about what he was talking about. “Rumors, a scout came from it, saying he saw something.” He spoke.
“What was it?” Olaf asked one more time.
“We don’t know, chief Rodro prohibited him from spreading it around.” The dwarf said.
Torag motioned his hand like someone who says that the chatting is over. “I’m leaving for now, I’ve had enough talking for a day.”
He and the others from the company left the room and went through the corridor that led to the main halls of the stronghold, there they could
see many warriors passing as they marched in groups of five or six, some captains were giving orders for them in loud voice, the sound of their steps echoed through the hall.
“Did ye see the woman talking? It seems that they take a woman’s opinion very seriously here.” Olaf said.
“Yes.” Torag replied. “Thick Beard tradition, matriarchal, the only one among all the Seven Houses.”
“I don’t understand what is this about. They say the city could not be reached by any army coming from the passage, the only way would be the Underground Path, but who could come from there?” Olaf asked.
“It is the Thick Beard way.” Torag replied. “For someone who has a city on such a privileged place, these dwarfs should not be concerned about any need to defend themselves using weapons, yet they are wise, always prepared.”
“Guess they do not get much chance to try their courage here.” Rurur spoke.
“Not here, for sure.” Torag spoke. “But did ye forget about the ones we met before in the fields? At the Trade Meeting Post, and in that odd reunion with the Wilding Dwarfs.”
Rurur nodded. “It is true… I forgot about them.”
“Yes… There they are, it is not by chance that they are the ones patrolling the roads down on the fields, our own King wants it this way. Don’t ye fool yourselves about the Thick Beards, they can be polished hosts, as well as fierce warriors.” Torag said.
“I believe ye would feel more comfortable living here among these ones, Torag! Guess ye would have a lot of business of your interest to get involved in.” Spoke Olaf.
“Naaah…” Torag sounded. “I like a good fighting, but I can’t hide the fact that I miss our home too… Not the way ye do, probably, but still miss.”
“I know what ye are talking about, no matter if one’s house is not that good of a dwelling, it is the place we love more, that is for sure. Among all the beds we had slept on since we left our house, none matches the ones back there in our home.” Rurur spoke.
“Oh yes…” Torag said with a smile. “I can remember well my warm bed… Ye bet.”