The Trials of Caste

by Joel Babbitt

  Lord Karthan thought for a second, “Well, let’s take a closer look, shall we?” He carefully opened the aged book.

  Inside the cover, in a bold, flowing script the author’s name was written.

  Lord Kale, Lord of the Kale Gen. This is the journal of my quest to seek knowledge of The Sorcerer’s will for our race.

  “Father, I’ve never read of one of the Kales going on a quest of this sort. Which one could it be?” Kiria asked.

  A strange sensation was beginning to grow within Lord Karthan. It was as if his heart burned within him. His interest was piqued. He closed the cover and examined the leather wrapping on the outside of the book. Seeing nothing of note, he thumbed through the pages. The book itself could not have been more than a hundred or so years old, judging from the condition of it. Reaching the back of the book, he discovered a loose piece of parchment, folded up in the back. Seeing that it was well aged and that the creases had begun to separate, he carefully unfolded it. Detailed on the parchment was a route west to the coast and then north, to an area labeled as human territories. In the author’s same flowing script were the names of what appeared to be settlements of some sort. Lord Karthan wondered at the fanciful names as his finger traced the route on the map. Then, abruptly, as his finger traced the return route which wound its way back from lands unknown to him to the northern rim of the valley just to the north of theirs, the line ended. No more details, names, or terrain features were given from that point back to the starting point labeled Kale Gen.

  “This may be something of a clue to solving which of the many Lord Kales wrote this journal,” Lord Karthan spoke softly as he handed the map to Kiria to study.

  Lord Karthan pondered for a while then he understood. Noting the age of the book, and seeing the map and where the return route ended, it was now clear to him which of all the many Lord Kales in his gen’s history had written this book. Though he was not the most astute of historians, Lord Karthan knew very well how the Kale Gen came to be ruled by the Karthans. His father had told him the story before he died of how the last Lord Kale had taken upon himself a quest of exploration, a mapping of the closer areas which he discovered had eventually led to the establishment of many of their caravan routes. Though some of his companions had returned, Lord Kale himself had died on this quest, ambushed by a party of orcs well over a century ago now. His father had explained to him that that was how the Kale Stone had been lost. It was a portion of their history that Lord Karthan had spent much time pondering and searching for further details.

  Since that Lord Kale had yet to produce any sons with legitimate claim to the throne, and since there were no relatives of age with close enough blood lines to claim the title, Karthan’s ancestor, who was Lord Kale’s chamberlain, who had been left in charge of the gen in Lord Kale’s absence, had simply continued in charge of the gen.

  Lord Karthan explained his thinking to Kiria. What he did not mention, however, were the quests that had been quietly launched by the Karthan line to find the lost Kale Stone over the many years since its loss. The memory of his own quest for the Kale Stone threatened to open wounds he had thought long healed. It was with trepidation that he continued leafing through the pages.

  “But why haven’t we seen this book until now?” Kiria asked, wonder evident in her voice. “Such a monumental quest forgotten in a century?”

  Lord Karthan was still pondering on the feeling in his heart. He skimmed quickly through much of the book. It described the long journey in detail, and how the object of the company’s quest had been found in a great human city at the farthest point of their journey. In the journal it detailed the meetings that Lord Kale’s company had had with representatives from the Council of Watchers, which were apparently humans that lived in that city. Here, Lord Karthan slowed down and began to read more thoroughly, reading parts of it out loud to share the discovery with Kiria.

  In the several meetings Lord Kale had detailed in his journal, he mentioned that the Watchers had shared many prophecies from The Sorcerer, the same being who had created the Kobold race, prophecies which had originally been given to great members of their order and had been handed down through their order for centuries.

  Lord Karthan pondered on what he had read for a moment. Among the writings of the Kale Gen there were many things that referenced the past, but there was no record anywhere that Lord Karthan was aware of where any kobold in the last several generations had received any sort of prophecy from The Sorcerer. Indeed what little communication they had received from him beyond his grave, a thousand years old now, mostly dealt with events that had been in the future many hundreds of years ago when it was received, but which now seemed clearly to be history. After The Sorcerer’s several prophecies through their ancient progenitors, the future had become a hazy cloud, remaining impenetrable since then to the kobold race by whatever powers there were.

  Perhaps this is why the importance of The Sorcerer had much diminished over the centuries among the descendents of Kale, for to read the writings of the ancients The Sorcerer was more a god to them, yet today he was more a distant, wise, important person… and certainly the creator of their race. Indeed, after so many centuries had passed from the great events of the past, knowledge of the time of The Sorcerer had not been consistently taught to the common castes over the generations, a thing that Lord Karthan had sought to change. Despite his efforts, however, any depth of knowledge about The Sorcerer was usually only had among the learned of the gen. Though the common folk did generally believe that he had once existed, and had all heard the most common of stories that were passed down through the generations, they thought of him more as a distant memory; more than a nursery rhyme yet somehow less than ominously important.

  Though Lord Karthan believed in all their accumulated lore, he had not done the best job ensuring their lore was taught to the common castes. The loss of the Kale Stone, and the loss of the powers of the Lord Kales who had held it over the centuries, had only served to further dampen the faith of the common castes in the greater powers that were.

  Finally, after reading much of the circumstances of these meetings with the Watchers, Lord Karthan came to the prophecies Lord Kale’s group had recorded. They were three, and from the moment he first laid eyes on them, Lord Karthan had begun to sense a feeling of great power slowly welling up within him. He could not take his eyes off the words. They burned deep into his consciousness, and he knew he’d found what he was searching for.

  Kiria watched her father read silently with great interest. For the past several weeks she had seen him cloister himself in their library, hardly eating and rarely sleeping, searching desperately through tome after tome, yet never being able to verbalize what it was he was searching for. As she watched her father absorbing the writings of the prophecies, it was as if her father’s spirit was slowly being relieved of some great burden.

  As Lord Karthan read the prophecies, many strange names and events paraded through his consciousness. A story of the Tilward Tree which lay in a massive canyon known as the Abyss in the depths of the Great Forest talked of how this tree had kept back an invasion of demons from another world. The story of a powerful dwarven archon Mortimer and his followers among the dwarven clans spoke of the role of the various races in a war that, he imagined, was yet to come. Finally, the Canticle of Morgra, who called himself the Keeper of the Covenant, spoke of the kobold race’s role in what he called the end times. There seemed to be a key piece of information missing, however, something he would have to understand before the mysteries of this Canticle of Morgra would be unlocked to him. In each of these stories were given prophecies that these great beings from history had passed on to future generations.

  Finally realizing that Kiria was still there, Lord Karthan took a deep breath. “Listen to this, Kiria,” he said. “This story is called the Story of the Tilward Tree. See if you understand it.”

  Hear now the Story of the Tilward Tree,

  And of a life freely given
that all may live free.

  In a time long before the world knew the first man,

  The elves built great gates to escape an oppressor’s hand.

  Demons and aberrations from the Fallen Prince’s brood

  Harried their efforts and sought to bring their doom.

  But the elves escaped through the eight great portals

  And sealed their escape with a power they thought eternal.

  In the dragon wars the gates were left unguarded

  And the pilgrim races used these gates now unwarded.

  Seeing doom following in the pilgrim races’ wake,

  The elf lords moved quickly to reseal the gates.

  From the highest Mountain to the lowest Abyss,

  The lords of the elven nations achieved their wish.

  The Sorcerer came and sealed the power of the doors

  By the strength of his Covenant with Dharma Kor.

  The eight stones he gave were meant to be wards

  And the Key was given to kobold hands to guard.

  But the Key was lost by the lord of a kobold gen

  And together with the Orc Stone a gate opened again.

  Tilward, paladin of the Council and man of war

  Honored the ancient covenants of Dharma Kor

  And gathered the races to meet the onrushing storm,

  To engage and destroy the approaching demon hordes.

  The Champions of Dharma Kor in that time of fate

  Defeated their vanguard and gained the Orc Gate.

  Arriving victorious, having taken the gate,

  Tilward knew that his victory had sealed his fate.

  Magic he fused with a handful of dirt and seed

  And created a receptacle of strength; a magical tree.

  Knowing what had to be done to fuse the rift

  Tilward gave his heroic life as his final gift.

  Now know this, who reads this story of sacrifice,

  The day approaches when Tilward’s strength will not suffice.

  For there will be one who seeks the Dark Prince to serve

  And he shall gain power to open a portal to his hordes.

  In his final words to the Champions, Tilward gave the key

  To the Dark Prince’s arrival as he spoke this prophecy:

  “When the day again arrives that the stones awaken,

  The races must unite the stones before they are taken.

  Then the Keeper of the ancient Covenant they should seek,

  And The Sorcerer’s powerful covenant they should keep.

  Then stand united against the great foe, on top of the tower

  And fight for Dharma Kor using The Sorcerer’s power.”

  Lord Karthan finished the prophecy and looked up at Kiria. “There is power in those words,” he whispered. Both of them could feel the pull of some power greater than themselves. It was as if something was confirming the truth of these words in their hearts. “So what do you make of it, my daughter?”

  Kiria spoke, “It seems that this Tilward, in a final act of selflessness, gave his life to create a magical tree, imbued with all the power given him by Dharma Kor itself, or perhaps The Sorcerer, and thereby sealed a gate to another world.” She paused and thought for a moment before continuing. “It seems that this act stopped an invasion of powerful beings the writer calls demons from the other side of the gate, and thereby saved the races of Dharma Kor from the destructive powers these invaders had.”

  Lord Karthan was nodding, “It seems his final prophecy states that the stones of power that The Sorcerer originally used to seal the eight gates will awaken and will have to be found before this Dark Prince arrives. Hmm… I wonder if this Fallen Prince and this Dark Prince are the same.”

  Kiria looked confused, “But what is this key that was lost by a kobold lord, father? Could it be the Kale Stone that was lost by the last Lord Kale?”

  “I do not know. I would think, since the Watchers knew of the Kobold Stone, that perhaps that is it,” he said, referring to the stone of power of the Kobold Gen, the gen of the oldest son of the first kobold, which had been mostly destroyed centuries before.

  Lord Karthan paused then flipped through the pages to where the second prophecy was found. “Perhaps it says elsewhere in here,” he said as the page turned to Mortimer’s prophecy. “This next prophecy seems to state that the power of The Sorcerer would begin to awaken when the stones begin to call the races to defend Dharma Kor.”

  Lord Karthan looked down at the text of the few short paragraphs that comprised Mortimer’s prophecy. “It speaks of a war ‘greater than that which had divided the races’ and of a time when ‘the Watchers would be called on to rally the races against a common foe’.” Lord Karthan paused for a moment and read the last couple of paragraphs. “He spoke of each of the eight original races; the elves, humans, dwarves, and gnomes as well as the hobgoblins, orcs, goblins, and minotaurs, stating the strengths and weaknesses of each, and how the Watchers would fight an invading horde.”

  “Is there any indication of when this great war is supposed to happen?” Kiria asked. “Do you think it will be in our time?”

  Lord Karthan felt strength like he’d never felt before. Kiria’s question burned like a true statement in his heart. “My dear daughter, I do not know.” Denying the confirmation in his heart, he changed the subject. “There is much mention of kobolds in this last prophecy,” he said as he began to flip the pages. As he did so, a small, folded up piece of parchment fell out of the center of the book, falling open on the ground as it landed. Kiria bent to pick it up. Carefully holding the worn, listless parchment, she began to read it aloud.

  The first prophecy of Two-Toes, Oracle of the Kobold Gen, concerning the gathering of the stones given to the five sons of Kobold, the First Sire.

  Kiria looked at her father quizzically. “Father, are these the same five stones that were given to the heads of the five great gens?”

  Within Lord Karthan a myriad of emotions played. It was as if he knew he stood at the brink of a great discovery, one that would rend the veil between him and whatever greater powers there were in the universe. “Read on,” he whispered.

  Hear now the utterances of the babe called Two-Toes, when his mouth was opened by the power of the Creator while still an infant in his mother’s arms:

  ‘To the Kobold Race were given five stones of power,

  One for the Kobold Gen, descendants of Kobold, the First Son of Kobold our First Sire, and blessed to gather the stones;

  One for the Kale Gen, descendants of Kale, the Second Son, and blessed to host the First Son;

  One for the Krall Gen, descendants of Krall, the Third Son, and blessed to harbor the First Son in his quest to power;

  One for the Krech Gen, descendants of Krech, the Fourth Son, and blessed to stand with the First Son when that which was divided is united once again.

  One for the Kormir Gen, descendants of Kormir, the Fifth Son, and blessed to come to the First Son in his hour of need;

  Hear now the sure word of prophecy: I shall not taste of death until the stones shall call to the rightful heirs of these great gens and they be gathered to Palacid to claim their inheritance. Let those who read understand, for one shall arise who is a stranger among the southern gens, and power shall be given him to gather the stones and to bring their heirs to his purposes, first by greed, then by loyalty.’

  Scrawled beneath the prophecy in spidery hand-writing was an apparent addition:

  The Key to Palacid is to be found in a dwarf tomb.

  Kiria reread the prophecy to herself and pondered on it. “Father, isn’t there still a remnant of the Kobold Gen among the lesser gens in the northern valley?”

  Lord Karthan nodded slowly, still seemingly lost in thought. “Aye, in fact those lesser gens used to be a part of the Kobold Gen, before some war or another shattered them many generations now in the past. Assuming this note was put in the book over a hundred years ago now, one would have to think that this
Two-Toes must be either dead or very, very ancient.”

  Kiria looked at her father, the words of Two-Toes’ prophecy enlightening her mind. “Father, do you think it is perhaps the call of the Kale Stone that has made you so preoccupied lately?”

  The question pierced Lord Karthan to the core. He began struggling with memories of events that he had never shared with his daughter. Despite the struggle within his mind, the words of his daughter thundered in his heart. He had no doubt any longer that it was time to seek again for the Kale Stone. His heart was full as he answered her. “My daughter, I believe it is,” he said.

  “Then perhaps, father,” Kiria started, “since you are not in the direct bloodline of the last Lord Kale, perhaps you are this stranger Two-Toes mentions who is supposed to gather the stones… maybe starting with the Kale Stone.”

  These words caused mixed emotions in Lord Karthan’s heart. He could sense that they were true… in part. “I do not know, my daughter,” he answered. “I certainly don’t think of myself as a stranger among this gen, or our neighbors the Krall Gen here in the southern valley. I can sense that I have some part in all this, but I am not certain what this prophecy means.”

  “Here, there is much mention of kobolds in this last prophecy,” he said as he began to flip the pages to the writings of one who called himself Morgra, Keeper of the Covenant. In his heart he could feel that Two-Toes’ prophecy had given him the keys to this Canticle, and that its mysteries would be held from him no longer.

  As Kiria looked on, Lord Karthan silently read the Canticle of Morgra, the pull of destiny growing in his heart. Looking over the words, his mental faculties were increased and intensified. In a moment, it was as if his understanding had taken on a new dimension, as if words were objects and references were the events themselves playing out in his consciousness. Words of the Canticle spawned visions in his mind, the ebb and flow of destiny unwinding in the dealings of the races was revealed to him, and the unseen urgency of this period of time in the world of Dharma Kor’s long life span was laid bare before his eyes.