The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings

by Justin Wayne

  Chapter Twenty Six: Banter

  “So lemme’ get this straight,” Merlon began. “Ye’ think minin’ is terrible, can’t stand diggin’, and spend most of your days readin’? I swear Thom is more of a dwarf than ye’ are.” He shook his head as he swayed side to side on his pony. “Do ye’ at least know how to use an axe?”

  “I prefer a mace.” Cuke replied and tapped the silver weapon hanging off his belt. “But I bet I can drink you under the table.”

  Merlon pulled up short and grinned wickedly beneath his bushy beard. “Right, and I’m as clean shaven as an elf.” he replied with dripping sarcasm. “Just gimme’ the time and day, boy.” Cuke laughed and for a moment forgot why he felt so uncomfortable with others of his kind. “So ye’ ever gonna’ grow out that baby beard or what?” Merlon asked then.

  “Now I remember.”

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing. Just talking to myself.” the cleric replied and shook his head, subconsciously stroking his short beard. “So how much longer until we get to Journ?”

  Merlon looked to the sky to judge the time of day and where they were. “I’d say, weather permittin’, eight days; ten if it be gettin’ nasty.”

  Cuke nodded and did the math himself, coming to a similar conclusion.

  “Why? Ye’ gettin’ tired already, boy?” Merlon challenged. “Cause I understand if ye’ want a little potty break to rest your poor little legs.”

  “You just think you’re tough as nails don’t you?”

  Merlon winked. “Tougher.”

  The two dwarves rode on all day bickering back and forth as their kind is inclined to do. Challenges and tests of honor and grit galore, with the both of them bound to a drinking contest, arm wrestling, a brawl, and seeing who could get the prettiest girl in an hour when everything was done with, and all before they were even halfway to Journ.

  “Yer crazy, boy! No way ye’ could get a dame like that,” Merlon chuckled and genuinely smiled. “Ye must’ve just had too much o’ the devil to drink that night.”

  Cuke shook his head stubbornly. “I’m telling you, she was the prettiest dwarf I ever saw. Long strawberry blonde hair, perfectly curved, with strong shoulders and a combed goatee neatly trimmed…she was perfect. And she came up to me.”

  “Wait a second. What’d she actually want?” Merlon inquired as he began to suspect something.

  The cleric stiffened in the saddle. “Not important. The fact of the matter is she approached me to talk. Out of everyone in the tavern, she came to me.”

  “But what’d she say exactly?” A long pause split the conversation. “Come on boy, be honest with ol’ Merlon.”

  Cuke groaned and dropped his head in defeat. “She asked me…‘Where’s the bathroom?’.”

  Merlon laughed so hard he fell from the saddle and rolled the entire way down the slope they were descending. Tears streamed down into his beard and his lungs burned as he couldn’t stop giggling. Cuke glowered at him and rode past as Merlon struggled into the saddle.

  “Oh come now, boy, don’t get so offended! I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” Merlon called and sped up to pull alongside him. “Here, tell ye’ what. I’ll tell ye’ a story about somethin’ I had like that happen.”

  Cuke glanced at him apprehensively. “Go on.”

  “Right. So there I am, spendin’ me hard earned coin on drink as usual at me favorite inn. I’ve been there an hour or so and ain’t seen nobody I know so I’m sittin’ alone in the corner to keep outta’ the way, when this woman walks up to me and just sits down at me table.”

  “What’d she look like?” Cuke asked as if far away as he tried to imagine the scene. His eyes were closed and he leaned back slightly to look up.

  “She was tall, real tall; probably five feet, and had straight black hair down to her waist. But her eyes were a bright green like an oak in spring with the face of an angel. So I tells her hello and me name, and she just stares at me for a moment. So I figure somethin’s on me face so I rub at it and try to clean meself when she just laughs the most beautiful melody ye’ ever heard.

  “I asked her what was so funny and she says, ‘Ye’ get so nervous ‘round me, I was just wonderin’ why.’ So I tells her it’s ‘cause she’s so pretty and I don’t know what to say. And she laughs and smiles again and I order us a couple of drinks. And this girl puts it away like it was nothin’. Next thing I know, she’s had a dozen mugs and I’m all outta’ coin.”

  “What happened?”

  Merlon leaned forward in the saddle. “She said thanks and left.”

  Cuke opened his eyes and paused as his dream scene was cut short. “That’s it? She just got up and walked away?”

  “Yep. Not another word or nothin’, just up and vanished. I never saw her again and still don’t know her name.” Merlon said wistfully. “But if I did..”

  “You would sing it to the heavens and win her heart?” Cuke asked hopefully, a true romantic. “Then court her and get married, then have five or six little babies and raise them together until they move out and go their own ways and you two turn old together?”

  Merlon frowned at him and spat. “Heck no, I’d ask for me money back! And I'm already old.”

  Cuke, crestfallen yet appeased by their share of romances gone wrong, laughed and accepted them as being equal. “Alright, alright, that..that’s pretty bad.”

  “Pretty bad? I’ve never felt so cheated in me life. I’ve had folks take me money before or the occasional animal. But nobody, and I mean nobody cheats me outta’ me ale.” Merlon fumed then relaxed visibly. “I haven’t a drop of the stuff in months. All of it in me town vanished with everyone else.”

  Cuke’s curiosity had been piqued for a while now but he hadn’t put much thought into anything other than what it might be. “Any idea why you weren’t taken?”

  Merlon shook his head and shrugged. “I’ve asked meself that a hundred times and still have no answer.”

  “What was it you actually did there?”

  “I retired from the army a while back and started up a business shapin’ metal. Not just weapons mind ye’ but fancier things like jewelry too. I was pretty good at it if I say so meself. I’ve been workin’ a forge since I was a pup and made plenty of weapons and suits of armor for the old king’s army I did.”

  “Which king?” Cuke asked somewhat surprised. Merlon had never mentioned working for a king of some sort and he wondered why something of that magnitude hadn’t been.

  “King Haren Grindstone, he was in charge of the dwarven kingdom in the east when I was young. Eventually he spread out so much that his rule was split apart by several barons who later disbanded, severin’ the kingdom into six different nations.” Merlon said quietly. “When that happened, it was like a civil war but with so many sides it was impossible not to lose someone ye’ cared about…That’s when me father left and disappeared into another nation.”

  Cuke lowered his gaze respectfully and waited several moments to give Merlon time to reflect. “What about you?”

  “Me? Well I was known for being such a good smithy that I wasn’t about to let that get ruined. So I didn’t join any of ‘em and worked as a free agent, takin’ special contracts here and there all over the place.”

  “Sounds pretty smart.” Cuke admitted and tried to hide his shock.

  “It was for a while, before they started askin’ for information. Who I was buildin’ for, what they were asking me to make, how much to spy on ‘em? Eventually I just saved up enough gold to buy me own shop and work out of there.” Merlon smiled at the memory. “Journ was just beginnin’ when I got there. Only a small inn and a delivery service were there and I knew it was the perfect spot. No competition, someone to ferry me orders to and from, and most important of all, somewhere to drink.”

  “So you still take special contracts?”

  “Here and there between the usual work. Me excess always ships to the surroundin’ cities where I give ‘em a cut in exchange for spreadin’ out me wares
. Not as good as before but I was doin’ alright.”

  Cuke sifted through theories and marked off revenge and sabotage. “What do you sell the most of?”

  Merlon reached into his pack and pulled out a small totem. “Silver symbols of deities that go on necklaces and the like. They’ve been a big seller for years ‘cause folks like to represent their gods when they go to war and distant lands.”

  “Silver and holy?” Cuke was beginning to formulate a new hypothesis. “Which places do they sell the best?”

  “Typically Cain Sander, Delvin, Briggand Sails; all the big cities 'round here. Why?” Merlon’s eyebrows smashed together and his forehead wrinkled.

  “Because I think you’ve angered some kind of demonic force. You keep selling these religious totems made of silver, two things they hate, and the more they get sold and passed around, the fewer places their strength will hold.” Cuke stated. “It’s like you’ve been creating weapons specifically against them then selling them to the most populated locations they could gather worship from.”

  “Worship?” Merlon blurted. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?”

  “A lot of demons serve dark gods like Crypt, Shogul, and Sin. Therefore, they gain power as their masters do, and gods gain power by being worshipped. These demons gather energy from the things their masters stand for like murder and stealing, some just general chaos,” Cuke explained. “So with those holy trinkets going out, it weakens their hold and presents a problem for them. So maybe one got loose and decided to make sure you stopped making them.”

  “Why not just kill me then?”

  “Isn’t this worse?” Cuke asked honestly. “Being all alone and unable to find the ones you care about? Not knowing if they’re alive or dead?”

  Merlon went silent then and stared at the ground as they rode on. "So it's me own fault." Silence permeated them and soon the sun fell. They dismounted and setup a small campsite off the road within a thicket, and still they did not speak. Merlon set to getting the fire going while Cuke prepared some of the meat they had left.

  They ate their dinner slowly and avoided eye contact with one another. As soon as he finished, Merlon slipped into his bedroll and closed his eyes, back turned to the fire where Cuke watched him. An hour or so passed when Cuke laid down as well.

  He stared up at the night sky and shivered at the cold. He glanced over at Merlon whose breathing was still too fast to be sleeping and sighed. “I miss the arguing.”