The Staff of Power

by D E Boske

  He decided to send a group of warriors to Al-Dan-Tir, the largest human city of Corillia. Maybe there would be word of the elves in the city. Al-Dan-Tir was a huge melting pot and all kinds of traders did business there and were welcome inside their walls. The city was also an excellent source of information. It was likely that whatever information you sought could be found there. For a price, of course.

  Branson Thundershield sent for Stryker and Kibblewolf. They appeared momentarily, bowing low.

  “Ye sent fer us me king?” inquired Stryker.

  “I need fer ye ta git to Al-Dan-Tir n’ find out, if ye kin, where the damned elves’re. Go unner the disguise o’ traders. Take as many as ye think ye’ll need. But ye be careful now. I canno’

  afford ta lose ye. Now git ye gone n’ hurry home.”

  Stryker and Kibblewolf put their right fist to their left shoulder in salute, then banged their heads together. The sharp ring of metal on metal as their helmets clashed rang through the stone chamber.

  They left to find their comrades and soon found two of them in a drunken stupor. Stryker kicked Corag in the rump and he groaned as he struggled to open his bleary eyes. Kibblewolf roused Rikert, shaking him violently.

  “Conflagration!” Rikert complained.

  “What’s this about?” mumbled Corag.

  “We’re goin’ to Al-Dan-Tir.”

  “An ye woke us ta tell us that?” said Corag.

  “Course not, stupid! You two’re comin’ with us.”

  “Well why dint ye say so?” asked Rikert in his drunken slur.

  “Sober up n’ fast. Then come ta meet us at Dain’s.” Stryker told them.

  They found Wicket in the chapel where he generally was, for he was a dwarven cleric. When they got to Dain’s, they came up with a plan without waiting for Corag and Rikert. When they arrived, they went over it again, making sure they all knew their roles. It would take them at least three weeks to make it to the human city. They were very good at long distance treks and forced marches. Dwarves were a sturdy, hardy folk. They spent the next few hours gathering the needed supplies, for they would leave at dawn’s first light.

  ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿

  The citizens of Marubiel were in an outrage. Dirk, the innkeeper of the Platinum Pony, found Missy early that morning.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” asked one man.

  “I warned you people no good would come of letting that elf in our city!” said another.

  “You can’t honestly believe it was Kyler who killed her,” said Dirk.

  “I saw him leaving her room. Seems funny to me that now she’s dead. Who else

  could it be but Kyler?” said Dustin.

  “But no one actually saw him kill her. He’s always been a good friend. He’s helped us out a lot, have all of you forgotten? Kal, you welcomed him and the Mage into the city. Salvo, he helped you find your daughter when she ran off with that boy. Darvin, he caught the ones responsible for setting fire to your house. Warrick, not only did he catch the bandits who robbed you, but he recovered your lost items as well. How can you think he’d be doin’ this now?” remarked Dirk, ashamed that the townsfolk believed this lie.

  The mob of townsfolk actually managed to look sheepish. They all stared hard at the ground as if they could extract the truth from it.

  “We still need to talk to him and ask him some questions,” stated Kal.

  “How we gonna’ do that mayor?” asked Darvin.

  “The elves will not welcome us. Their magic protects them. We’ll never make it and Kyler probably won’t be back for a while now,” observed Dustin.

  “If Kyler didn’t kill her, which I believe he did not, then who did? The killer is still out there. Why Missy? What’d she ever do to anyone?” asked the mayor.

  “We all need to remain alert and on our guard. If anyone sees the elf or that Mage that’s always with him, be cautious. Do not take any risks, we don’t know what they’re capable of,” said Kal, shrugging his shoulders. Soon after, they broke up, going back to what they had been doing before the terrible news reached them.

  ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿ ﴾﴿

  Dawn came to Thunder Peak in a brilliant blaze of gold, kissed with pink. The air was crisp and cold high in the mountains. The small company of dwarves set off for Al-Dan-Tir, hoping to find the information their king requested. Secretly, they hoped to meet the elves on the way. Something about this situation just didn’t feel right. Stryker began to fear the worst. Maybe something happened to the elves. He could not imagine what would keep them. War was imminent. All signs were visible. The elves would not have failed to notice. They would come to council, they always did. It had been years since there was a need for this.

  Stryker was in the lead, an excellent tracker, and if there were something to find, he would do just that. They marched steadily for hours, not stopping, even taking their meals as they marched.

  They stopped well after sunset, quickly setting up camp and eating a hot meal. The loss of the sun meant the loss of the warmth she brought along with her. The temperature dropped severely and the biting chill could kill anything exposed for too long.

  They took turns on watch, two at a time, while the others slept. Stryker and Kibblewolf took first watch. They played a grisly game of bones to pass the time. They each had bones from fallen enemies and they used these to win. The rules were not very specific and changed each time they played. They were about to wake Dain and Wicket for the second watch when they heard noises beyond their perimeter.

  “Wake, me boys! There’s a fight upon us!” Stryker shouted, hefting his double-bladed axe. The others drew their weapons and waited for the attack to come. A group of goblins and fire dwarves broke from cover and rushed them. The dwarves remained in tight formation. Dain brought his war hammer in a downward chop, crushing the skull of a fire dwarf. Stryker took the head of a goblin.

  Wicket called on the dwarven god Thundergarde the Stout and the ground beneath their enemies’ feet turned to mud, sucking them deep into the earth. When the spell was over, the ground became solid once more, sealing those trapped within in their graves. Their remaining enemies turned and fled.

  “What were they thinkin’? They shoulda’ knowed they was no match fer us. Somethin’ ain’t right. Let’s git movin’,” said Stryker.

  They broke camp soon after, marching toward Al-Dan-Tir. Most of their supplies were stored in a cart, along with weapons and armor they were to sell at market.

  Just before dawn, they stopped. Stryker and Kibblewolf could not go anymore without rest. Dain and Wicket stood guard as the others slept. Stryker and Kibblewolf collapsed immediately, their snores sounding like rolling thunder.

  They arrived at Al-Dan-Tir three weeks later. The sun shone brightly and the day was unseasonably warm. They approached the city gates, bewildered by the crowd of people waiting for permission to enter. The walls of Al-Dan-Tir were over fifty feet high and made of thick, grey stone. Walkways as wide as two tall men ran the whole length of the wall. Knights stood up top watching everything and everyone.

  The Knights of Shorlan had guarded the city since its creation; a powerful army whose battle prowess was legendary. The Knights were mostly humans, though portions of their ranks were elves. The Knights protected the small villages outside their walls as well and it seemed as if all the inhabitants were present, clamoring for admittance.

  Stryker and Kibblewolf exchanged guarded glances. It was not looking good. So many people seeking refuge meant the city would be full to bursting with people. Overcrowded inns and streets would make it difficult to get around and finding rooms could be next to impossible.

  Most of the people present had all their belongings with them, abandoning their homes for the safety of the city walls. The line moved slowly as the Knights questioned everyone, search

  ing through all their things before granting admittance.

  Stryker and Kibblewolf breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they spotted Koryn. Because they ma
de frequent trips to the city, they were on friendly terms with many Knights. They became friends and traded stories and jokes as they shared drinks on their excursions.

  The sun was high in the sky when at last, they stood before Koryn and an elf

  called Rohn Skyblade.

  “Well met my friends,” said Koryn, clasping the dwarves’ hands and smiling warmly.

  “A lot o’ folks lookin’ fer safety, eh?” asked Stryker.

  “Things are going from bad to worse, I’m afraid. We cannot accept many more, as we are already overcrowded. I’m sorry, but we must look through your things.”

  “We got nothin’ ta hide boy,” Stryker replied, bringing the cart forward. Although they knew each other, the Knights were thorough.

  When at last they were satisfied, they let them pass, signaling the end for the day. The gates slammed shut with a cold finality that sent a chill down the dwarves’ spines.

  “Do you feel up to a drink?” asked Koryn with a warm smile.

  “O’ course! What kinda’ question’s that? We need ta find rooms ‘afore we go a drinkin’ though,” said Kibblewolf.

  “Not to worry, I know where there are a few rooms left. Follow me,” said Rohn, turning down Lamplight Way.

  The buildings were made of grey stone and wood. All of which were more than one story. They passed many shops that were closing up for the night. A seamstress shop, an armory, a bakery, a smithy, a mystic shop and many more.

  When they arrived at Circle Gate, they went left. They stopped before a large two story building bearing the name Serpent’s Kiss. Rohn removed his helm, shaking out his long, silvery-blue hair. They went inside to a crowded common room. Koryn waded through the throng, to a booth in the back corner.

  A beautiful elf came from a room behind the counter. When she saw Rohn, she smiled shyly.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off Rohn.

  “Yes, thank you Larai. My friends here need a place to stay.”

  “I’m afraid all we have left are two rooms. A bard and another man just took the other two,” she explained apologetically. Rohn looked to Stryker, shrugging his shoulders.

  “That’ll be fine miss,” Stryker said, laying the coins down. She scooped them up and added them to an iron chest.

  “I’ll have extra cots brought for you,” she told them.

  “Thanks,” said Stryker. He glanced at Rohn, but he did not notice. He was too busy looking at Larai. Stryker winked at her and cleared his throat.

  “Well, that’s that then. We’ll just go to our rooms n’ drop off our things n’ git that drink.” She slid the keys across the counter to them, telling a boy perched on a bench to go get the extra cots.

  “Finally,” Rohn sighed, slipping behind the counter. He gathered the girl in his arms, holding her for long moments. He brought his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

  “Mmm, I missed you,” she whispered.

  “Me too,” he said, pulling her into another kiss.

  “I should get back to work,” she said as she stroked his face.

  “Yeah, Koryn’s probably wondering where I am.” He kissed her again, then released her and returned to Koryn.

  “Where’ve you been? I was starting to think I’d be drinking alone tonight.”

  “Not a chance! I was just making sure they got rooms.” He took a seat, putting his back to the wall so that he could see the whole room. A serving girl came up to their table, smiling sweetly.

  “What can I get for you two handsome men?”

  “Another ale for me,” Koryn said, as his eyes caressed her curves.

  “Nykessa please,” Rohn said. The dwarves seated themselves just in time to order ale.

  “Are the rooms to your liking?” Rohn asked.

  “A little small ta be fittin’ three dwarves’ in, but they’ll do. There’s somethin’ we be needin’ ta ask ye,” Stryker said, eyeing them both.

  “Has n’ elven expedition arrived lately?” The two Knights exchanged puzzled glances.

  “I’ll be takin’ that as a no. You have no seen nor heard from Kyler o’ Kiri A’ Nouell? Me king was sent a message from the elves, sayin’ they was sendin’ an expedition led by Kyler. They shoulda’ been here weeks ago, maybe months. Somethin’s happened then. We were sent to find out if they’d come yet. Troubles a brewin’ fer sure.” They all paused as the serving girl returned with their drinks. Rohn paid her and she winked at him.

  “Anything else, gents?” she asked sweetly.

  “Just you,” Koryn said, pulling her into his lap. He whispered something in her ear and she laughed. He kissed her cheek, sliding his hand up her skirt under the table. Leaning into him, she kissed him softly.

  “I get off in an hour,” she whispered in his ear.

  “I’ll be waiting for you, my dear,” he whispered, releasing her and letting her return to work.

  “Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he said sheepishly.

  “Why is Kyler coming here? What’s going on?” asked Rohn.

  “War is imminent. Ye canno’ tell me ye not seen it fer yerself with all the people comin here fer refuge. We were attacked by goblin’s n’ fire dwarves on our way here. Conflagration!” said Stryker to their stunned expressions.

  “Goblins and fire dwarves don’t work together. They hate each other,” said Rohn seriously.

  “We’re knowin’ that fer sure. Must be that somethin’ a lot more powerful’s bringin’ ‘em together,” said Kibblewolf.

  “I don’t like the way this conversation’s going. I was hoping you came for a friendly visit, but this… Tansher will want to know,” Koryn said.

  Rohn glanced around the room, his eyes coming to rest on a tall man with long black hair who was staring at them. Instead of looking away, as decent people do, he continued to stare. He was slender with dark, calculating eyes and hawkish features.

  It was then that the bard took the stage. The common room remained loud, the people not stopping their words for him. That is, until he began to sing. His voice was clear, pure and strong. At once, the audience became quiet and still, as if under a spell.

  “Watch out for this one. The magic is strong with him,” cautioned Rohn.

  “Whadya’ mean?” asked Dain.

  “It is said that there are those who command magic through the power of song and storytelling. Not to be confused with traveling minstrels of course. A bard can learn spells and command magic. The better he is at his art, the stronger his magic,” explained Rohn softly.

  “I thought only the Shivvendari had use of magic, besides the elves o’course,” added Dain hastily, not wanting to offend Rohn.

  “This is true for the most part. They are nothing to a Mage of The Order or to the elven Ghinkar. They are extremely rare, but can do their share of damage,” replied the elf.

  “Interesting,” said Koryn, scratching his chin thoughtfully. The serving girl appeared at his side and she put her hand on his shoulder.

  “Well, it seems I must call it a night. ‘Til we meet again.” He drained his tankard and left with the girl. Soon after, the rest of them retired as well. The whole time, the stranger’s eyes followed them.

  Rohn waited for Larai to finish, so he could walk her home. It was only three blocks, but he always felt better when he knew she was safe. Hers was a grey stone two-story building. He walked her to the front door.

  “Thank you, Rohn. I always feel safe with you.” He kissed her forehead and she pulled

  him into a passionate kiss. He let his hands roam, coming to a stop on her bottom. He pulled her closer, kissing her neck.

  “Rohn, would you like to come inside?”

  “You know I do,” he replied softly. She unlocked the door and pulled him in.

  In the morning, Stryker and Kibblewolf took the goods to market. They had enough weapons and armor to buy a whole kingdom with the profits of sale. The overcrowded city might work to their advantage. More people to peruse their wares and less likely that the
y would stand out or be remembered. They set up their booth in the center of the city at their usual spot, and polished everything before displaying it. Each piece was a unique work of art, a masterpiece. Etched into each piece, was the rune of the maker.

  The day was warm and bright. The sky was cloudless and blue, but the chill that swept down from Thunder Peak was evident in the breeze. A hawk screeched overhead, circling. Before long, their first customer arrived.

  “Good day to ye,” said Stryker.

  “Good day. I’m looking for a good dagger. Nothing fancy, just a good, sturdy blade.”

  “Got just the thing here,” replied Stryker, choosing a blade. Though it was not overly decorative, it was still an excellent choice and no less valuable.

  “This is just what I had in mind. How much?”

  “A hunnerd fifty gold and we’ll throw in the matching sheath,” Stryker replied firmly.

  “That’s a little more than I wanted to spend,” the man said.

  “You’ll not find a better blade fer the price. Sure, ye kin find a cheaper one, but that one there could split a goblin’s skull. Take a look round if ye like, but I canno’ promise it’ll be here should ye return.” The man hefted it, weighing it in his mind, and then began to lay down the coins.

  By noon they sold enough that had they chosen to do so, they could have returned home with a king’s ransom in gold. But they stubbornly refused to leave, hoping Kyler would enter the city soon.

  Still no news of the elf prince’s arrival and they wondered if they were coming at all. As their next customer approached, the day seemed to be getting steadily worse. It was the dark stranger from the previous night. He studied each item in turn, never touching anything. Which was a good thing, because Stryker was fully prepared to pin his hand to the table with his dagger if need be.

  “Kin I help ye?” asked Stryker, guardedly.

  “Is that any way to greet a potential buyer, good dwarf?”

  “Kin I help ye?” Stryker asked again, trying to smile, but it came out like a grimace. He looked as if he tasted something vile and was trying to rid himself of it.