Forging Destiny

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  As impossible as it seemed, the sarcophagus was rebuilding itself. He stood in awe, watching it happen. This was a true miracle, and he felt blessed by witnessing it. The transformation lasted only a span of ten heartbeats.

  When it finished, the sarcophagus was whole and looked newly made. Its sides were painted white. The lid was no longer smooth, plain stone. A warrior in stone lay in repose on the lid. He held a likeness of the sword that was now sheathed on Tovak’s back. A blue light glowed upon the stone paladin’s chest. Tovak stepped closer and saw a medallion there, set deeply into the stone. It was Thulla’s lion, and it shone forth with its own light.

  He looked up as the shaft of sunlight overhead disappeared. The fallen rocks, the boulders, and the opening to the surface were gone. The room looked new, as if freshly constructed. Even the spiders were gone. Their bodies had vanished. The webbing on the walls had disappeared too. In its place were brilliantly colored frescoes, telling the story of a holy warrior of Thulla.

  Holding the torch high, Tovak walked around the tomb, studying the frescos, committing the story to memory. It started with the warrior’s birth, in what seemed like abject poverty, his life of crime and debasement, then transitioned to being saved, discovering faith, and being given a second chance by a noble lord. It continued on and covered the growth of the warrior’s faith, devotion to service, ultimate blessing by Thulla, and the elevation to becoming a paladin.

  Tovak found himself moved by the warrior’s story as he followed it from one wall to the next. Several of the great deeds the paladin had performed were detailed as well.

  It all ended on the far wall to his right, in a tomb. Tovak went cold, for he saw what he thought might be himself rendered in the fresco. He blinked and leaned closer. A chill ran down his spine. The fresco showed the paladin handing the sword to another figure. There was no mistaking what that figure was, but Tovak still could not understand it. It was him! The last image was of the paladin handing Tovak the sword to confront darkness and evil.

  There the story stopped. In a way, Tovak realized the paladin was passing the torch of faith to him, for that was what the message seemed to convey. The sword now strapped to his back represented faith and belief in Thulla. Tovak would wield it with pride and honor. He would care for it, as had the warrior before him. With all his strength, he would strive to live up to the standard that had been set for him.

  He cleared his throat. “Thank You for this, Thulla,” Tovak breathed and then turned away.

  Right behind him was Hess. The gnome was completely still, and his gaze was fixated upon Tovak. Had he seen everything? Tovak suspected he had. He decided it did not matter, not one bit. Tovak was not meant to hide what had just happened. He knew that with all his being. He was to share it and his faith with the world.

  “Let’s go free your friend,” Tovak said to Hess and strode by the gnome.

  Hess shook himself slightly and followed. “He—no my friend. He no anyone’s friend.”

  Tovak stopped and turned back to the little creature. “Regardless, I will not leave him down here for the spiders. Come on.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  As he entered the chamber, with Hess following close behind, Tovak found Greku had finished freeing himself of the constricting webbing. He had sat up and was holding a hand close to his side, as if shielding something.

  Under the full light of the torch, Tovak had a better view of Greku. What he took in was terribly concerning, frightening even. Greku was completely covered in orange-and-black-patterned fur. Two ears on the top of his head flicked this way and that, as if listening to every sound. His face was cat-like and animalistic. He made Thulla’s lion look almost tame. Greku was powerfully muscled, and he looked at Tovak like he was prey about to be taken down. To say the gaze was intense would be an understatement. It was a challenge, or really a dare, to keep staring, and yet Tovak refused to look away and back down. He was done backing down from anyone, and that included Greku.

  What was he?

  “You killed them?” Greku asked after a moment, stern expression fading. A look of what Tovak took to be curiosity seemed to steal over him. “Of course you did. Otherwise, you would not be here. I must admit I am impressed, very impressed. I had not thought there was such strength in your people.”

  Greku winced and almost doubled over. He pressed his hand to his side tighter. Dark red blood seeped out from between the furred fingers.

  “You are injured,” Tovak said.

  “I am,” Greku admitted and bared his teeth in what looked to be an expression of pain. He wore black leather armor and matching black pants. His leather boots were a dark brown.

  “Can I help?” Tovak said.

  “No.” Greku shook his head. “No, you cannot.”

  “What happened?”

  “A krow got me good,” Greku said, almost with embarrassment.

  “Krow?” Tovak was surprised by that.

  “I told you,” Hess piped up from Tovak’s side. He was wagging a finger at Greku. “No play with krow. Bad—very bad.”

  “I wasn’t playing with them, you fool,” Greku snapped at the gnome. “I was trying to kill them.”

  “A krow,” Tovak said and pointed back towards the paladin’s tomb. “Those were krata.”

  “A good observation,” Greku said and removed his hand to look at his wound under Tovak’s magical light. It was a round hole that bled freely. He probed at it with a finger and winced. “It could be worse. It’s not too deep, nothing more than a painful poke.”

  Tovak felt a wash of cold run down his spine. He looked about as realization slammed home. “This is a krow lair.”

  “Another good observation,” Greku said. “Had there been only one, it would not have been much of a problem. Unfortunately, I happened upon a mating pair. The second one surprised me and stuck me”—he bared his teeth again, which were wickedly sharp—“but not before I killed her.”

  Hess said something in another language to Greku.

  “I am not going to die,” Greku said, “you infuriating little bastard. And no, you can’t have my things.”

  The gnome let out an unhappy sigh.

  “A krow bite is poisonous,” Tovak said.

  “Not to my people.” Groaning, Greku, with no little effort, pulled himself to his feet. He was so tall that when he straightened, he towered over Tovak and the gnome. His head almost hit the ceiling eight feet above. “At worst it incapacitates us for a few hours and, as you can see, the venom causes great pain. I will recover just fine. The spider, however, will not.”

  “Who are your people?” Tovak asked.

  Greku looked at him as if he could not believe Tovak did not know. “I would think that obvious.”

  “It’s not.”

  “He Vass,” Hess said helpfully. “Big stupid kitty.”

  “Enough from you,” Greku snapped and took a menacing step towards the gnome, who scuttled behind Tovak’s legs.

  Greku pressed forward. Tovak took a step back and almost tripped over the gnome behind him. He was reminded of Dagmar being bitten in the ass by a gnome. He pushed Hess away to the side, then recalled he faced a Vass. Turning back to face Greku, he felt a strong desire to draw his sword, but he resisted the effort and forcibly calmed himself. Greku, for his part, seemed amused by Tovak’s reaction.

  “I take it I am the first Vass you’ve seen?”

  “No,” Tovak admitted. “I’ve set eyes on another of your kind.”

  “You have?” Greku seemed surprised by that. “We are few in number on this continent. If you had seen one of my kind, how is it you did not recognize what I am?”

  Tovak did not immediately respond, as he felt a wave of weariness wash over him. After the last few hours, he was spent. All he wanted to do was sit down and rest. But he could not do that, not until he escaped back to the surface and safety. Even then, there may be no rest. There was no telling what was going on with the assault on the wall. Then again, it might all be
over.

  Greku turned and started looking around the area where he had been lying. He kicked aside several of the carcasses. “Bah. No sword.”

  “It is where spider got you,” Hess said.

  Greku rounded on the gnome. “And you did not think to bring it?”

  “Too heavy,” Hess said with a tiny shrug of his shoulders. “Too big and if I drag, like spider dragged you, they hear and eat me. I no like that.”

  Greku shot a hard look at the gnome, then blew out a heavy breath that sounded like more of a snort than anything else. “You were right to leave it. We will have to go and get it. That sword has been in my family for generations. I take it my pack is there too?”

  Hess nodded. “I no touch and spider no care.”

  “Good, because if you had, I’d kill you.”

  Again, Hess gave a shrug of his shoulders.

  Greku abruptly turned back to Tovak. “I asked you a question. How is it you did not recognize my kind?”

  “I saw another of your kind from a distance and was told the person riding the dragon was likely a Vass,” Tovak admitted. “At the time, it was a long way off.”

  Greku stilled at that. After a long moment, he gave a nod, as if thinking on what Tovak had said.

  “Was this recent?”

  “Last night,” Tovak said.

  “I thank you for that information. It is most welcome. It means I’ve not been forgotten.” Greku paused, eyeing him for a long moment. “What is your name?”

  “Tovak.”

  “I am glad you happened by, Tovak,” Greku said and glanced around the chamber, examining it. He turned to Hess. “How far was I dragged? How far from where my sword and pack are?”

  “Not far,” Hess said. “Short walk, short walk.”

  Greku turned his attention back to Tovak. There was an unspoken menace in his gaze. “I think we both know it is no accident you are here in this place.”

  Tovak did not immediately respond. He studied the Vass for several heartbeats, then spoke. “Just as it is no accident you are here either.”

  Greku gave a huffing laugh that caused him to wince and grip his side. “That is true.”

  “Are you certain I can’t help you?” Tovak asked, wondering how bad Greku’s wound was.

  “My people heal rapidly,” Greku said. “Though it is painful, I have had worse. I will tend to it after I get my pack. The supplies I need are inside.”

  Tovak was not convinced. He feared the wound was a bad one.

  “There was a time when your people and mine worked side by side.”

  Tovak did not say anything to that. He only knew the Vass to be ancient enemies, and not much more.

  “I ….” Greku stopped, his jaw working, as if what he intended to say was causing him physical pain. “I am in your debt.”

  Hess said something in another language, drawing Greku’s attention. To Tovak it was a long string of rapid babble. When the gnome finished, Greku flexed his jaw again and turned back to Tovak.

  “We are in your debt,” Greku said. “Hess and me.”

  “No,” Tovak said. “I don’t think so. I would have done the same whether you were orc or goblin. I’d not leave anyone to be fed upon by spiders. No one deserves that fate.”

  “Regardless, a debt is owed and must be paid. Such is the way of my people and”—Greku huffed out a breath, gesturing towards Hess with a hand—“his too.”

  Hess spoke again to Greku. It was yet another long stream of speech, at the end of which Hess responded in the same tongue, though slower.

  “Hess says you need the way out,” Greku said.

  “Why did he not just say that, then?” Tovak asked. “He speaks my language well enough.”

  “Probably because he answers to me,” Greku said, “and thought the information would bring me an advantage in the coming negotiation. What he says is true, yes?”

  “It is. I came to be down in these catacombs by accident,” Tovak said, glancing around, “but I believe I would have ended up down here anyway.”

  “The gods work in mysterious ways.” Greku’s eyes had narrowed. “Still, we know the way out. In repayment of our debt, we will guide you out of the catacombs instead of killing you.”

  Tovak stilled. He swallowed before speaking. “I find that acceptable.”

  “You should.” Some of the menace left Greku’s tone. “You are part of the Dvergr army headed here to this valley?”

  Tovak did not say anything.

  “By your presence here,” Greku continued, “I assume your people have already entered the valley in strength. It is either that or you came in advance of your army, as a scouting party perhaps?”

  Again, Tovak chose to not reply. He remained stoically silent. It was not his place to give potentially vital information to an enemy, especially one who had just mentioned killing him.

  “Your silence only confirms my suspicions,” Greku said. “Perhaps we can help each other?”

  “What do you have in mind?” Tovak asked suspiciously, knowing there was no way he could trust Greku. Only, he knew he might have to.

  “If you permit me to leave after we guide you out,” Greku said, “and guarantee your people will not interfere, I will give you information on your true enemy, the Horde. They are our enemy as well. Helping you, I think, will hurt them, which, in a way, advances both of our interests somewhat.”

  “What sort of information?” Tovak asked.

  “There is a hidden pass that leads into the valley. My guess is your people do not know of it. And no, I am not talking of the pass that leads in from the Grimbar.” Greku regarded Tovak for several heartbeats. “Might its location be of interest to you and your army?”

  Tovak reluctantly gave a nod.

  “The only conceivable reason your people are here in this ancient land is for Grata’Dagoth,” Greku continued. “If the enemy pours unchecked into this valley, you will never find it or, more correctly, reach it and what it guards. Your people will be in a difficult position.”

  That Greku knew what they were looking for set off alarm bells. What was more concerning to Tovak, though, was that there was another way into the valley, a pass, and it was unknown to the warband.

  He wondered if the Vass was telling the truth. It was quite possible he was intentionally misleading Tovak to gain his trust and support in escaping the catacombs. Still, he knew he could not take that chance. And, there was something about Greku, a feeling, that told him the Vass was not lying. He was speaking the truth.

  “If they are keeping their current pace, the Horde will enter the valley in strength soon. Tell me, are you interested in that information?”

  “I am,” Tovak said, knowing the warchief would need it.

  “If you agree to let me and the gnome go after we show you the exit to this place, then I will share this information with you. Regardless of what you decide, due to our debt, I will guide you out. Do not agree to my terms, and this added information remains with me and you risk the destruction of your warband.”

  Tovak thought for a long moment. “I cannot bind my people to that. I do not speak for them.”

  “We wish no trouble with your people,” Greku said. “I personally want no trouble, nor do I seek to cause you any difficulty. But I will take your personal word on the matter. Agree and we have a deal.”

  “I just told you,” Tovak said, “I cannot bind my people to that. There may be those who choose to disregard whatever agreement we make here. In fact, I am quite sure they will.”

  Tovak could only imagine how Dagon would respond to such an arrangement.

  “They would go against your word?” Greku seemed thoroughly astonished, aghast even, by the thought of that alone. “I find that difficult to believe.”

  Tovak felt himself scowl at the Vass. “Greku, I am a nobody, a Pariah to my people. I am a soldier, with no rank, nothing more.”

  Greku took a step forward, studying him intently, as if in disbelief. “I know this word, Par
iah. How can that be? You are clearly no such thing.”

  “Oh,” Tovak said, feeling a sudden flood of embarrassment, mixed with terrible bitterness, “but I am. My father disgraced himself at a place called Barasoom. All my life I have lived with his shame, dealt with it as best I could.”

  “Your people think differently than mine,” Greku said and then fell silent, eying him for several long heartbeats. He was clearly weighing Tovak’s words. “Still, if you give me your word, you will do everything within your power to see that we are allowed to go free, that shall be enough. As I’ve said, I have no desire to trouble your people. Do we have a deal?”

  Tovak thought it through. The information Greku was willing to trade could prove vital to the warband’s interests. He could not pass it up. He knew that. He had to agree and do what he could, even if it meant he might be punished for his actions and giving his word to an enemy. It might see him expelled from the warband or worse, condemned to death.

  “We do,” Tovak said, “upon my Legend, I promise you to do all that I can.”

  “Good enough.” Greku seemed immensely pleased with himself. “Bargain fairly struck, paladin.”

  “What?” Tovak asked, not quite believing what the Vass had called him. “You are mistaken. I am no paladin.”

  “You cannot deceive me,” Greku said. “There is no point in deception now. We have entered into an agreement. You cannot renegotiate. It is done and final.”

  “I am being honest,” Tovak said. “By Thulla, I swear that I am no paladin. I would not deceive you in this. My faith is too steadfast to allow me to do so. Thulla would never forgive me for such temerity.”

  Greku cocked his head to the side as he regarded Tovak. “No matter what you say, you have been blessed by your god. My people have the ability to sense such things. It is in you. I can feel your power. I can sense it radiating outward. You are a holy warrior of Thulla. On that I’d bet my life.”

  Tovak felt rocked by Greku’s words. He took a step back, his gaze going toward the paladin’s crypt. Could it be true? Could Greku be right? No, it simply could not be. He knew he had been blessed by Thulla, but this seemed too much, too great of an honor to even contemplate. He found his mind going back to the fresco inside the crypt, with his own image detailed there. Was he, Tovak, continuing the paladin’s journey?