The Trials of Caste

by Joel Babbitt

  As he approached the entrance to the clearing of the Tower of the Chalice, Gorgon slowed to a walk then crept forward as he tried his best to stay in the shadows of the passageway. Ahead of him the light from the fire pots reflected brightly in the clearing, leaving the tower standing stark brown against the whited calcium carbonate deposits that lined the ceiling of the cavern. It was approaching mid-day in the world above, and the pillar of light from the hole in the top of the massive cavern streamed down through the dusty air, splashing light over the far end of the little clearing and the passageways beyond. From his position a few paces from an entrance, Gorgon saw no immediate activity. This naturally made him suspicious.

  He moved forward a couple more paces until he could see the other entrances to the clearing. Still nothing to be seen. This worried him. He was not concerned about facing any of the others face to face, or even from a distance. It was the unseen strike that he was much more concerned about. Waiting several moments, Gorgon eventually decided he had to take action.

  Gorgon brought his shield up in front of his chest and made a run for the tower, scanning all the entrances as he went. It took quite a few strides, but by the time he arrived at the base, nothing had moved. Relieved, but still cautious, Gorgon climbed to the top of the tower. Inspecting the chest, he found that the same three keys were missing.

  Gorgon took the Orc Guard Complex key from his belt and, holding it up for the crowd to see, placed it in its lock and turned it. The crowd cheered and applauded. Turning again toward the stairs, he patted the remaining key on his belt and waved again to the crowd.

  Trallik found the antics of kobolds like Gorgon tiresome. He found him to be vain and overly concerned about his image. If there was one thing that would bring him down, other than his sense of honor, it would be the attention he paid to how he looked to others. In fact, Trallik would help him learn that lesson right now.

  As he watched him wave to the crowd from the shadows of a passageway Trallik brought his bow up and drew back the arrow he had nocked. Watching as Gorgon waved to the crowd then turned to walk down the stairs, Trallik led Gorgon with his aim point by a notch or two, then released suddenly. The arrow flew quickly toward Gorgon’s back, eliciting a couple of screams from the crowd as it flew.

  Hearing a scream from the crowd behind him, Gorgon spun quickly and dropped to a knee, bringing his shield quickly up in front of his torso and head. Almost instantly an arrow struck the wood of his shield and clattered off down the staircase toward the lower levels of the tower.

  This brought cheers from the crowd. Perhaps loudest among them was Gorgon’s father Goryon the blacksmith, who stood up and beat his chest and waved a well-muscled arm as he yelled. And, though silent next to him, a glint of pride could be seen in the eyes of the large orc slave Grimgnaw.

  Gorgon quickly scanned the two entrances that had line of sight to the open side of the tower. Both of them seemed silent and still as they had all along. This didn’t surprise him. For the past year he’d seen the capabilities of his fellow kobold yearlings develop and become polished. If there was one of his peers whose style it was to shoot someone in the back, it was Trallik. He’d already experienced it once this trial and wanted nothing more at the moment than to take care of this problem once and for all.

  Almost jumping down the stairs, Gorgon sprinted for the one entrance that he believed the arrow had to have come from, shield at the ready and holding his weapons high. As he ran from the tower to the entrance, he thought he saw movement. Approaching the entranceway he saw Trallik’s form running as fast as he could down the passage and away from him.

  Gorgon yelled in rage and sprinted all the faster after him. The chase was on!

  Jerrig had spent all the arrows that Trallik had fired in his direction. Besides, his right wrist which had caused so many problems for him in the ranged weapons trial was beginning to hurt again. Fearing that Trallik would get the upper hand on him in the open space of the clearing, he decided to head back toward the perimeter and see if he couldn’t find a side connecting passageway to lead him toward Trallik’s position. As luck would have it, there was no side passage along the entire length of the passageway that went in Trallik’s direction. Eventually, he found himself coming out of the obstacles altogether not far from the trainer’s stand.

  Trying to ignore the hundreds of eyes fixed on him, Jerrig skirted the perimeter of the obstacles and headed back into the next passageway he could find back toward the center of the obstacles. Thinking that Trallik was probably one more passageway over, Jerrig started to head down a side passageway. After a couple of moments, he heard the crowd cheering and stopped to listen. After a bit, he heard the crowd cheer again, then moments later he heard Gorgon’s distinctive yell coming from the center of the obstacles. Grasping his javelins a little tighter, Jerrig continued down the side passageway. After a few moments, he thought he heard footsteps running toward him. Placing one javelin against the wall, Jerrig readied the other and prepared to throw. Soon, Trallik appeared around a bend not twenty paces from him, running like he was being chased by a bear.

  Jerrig aimed and, taking a step forward, threw the javelin at Trallik. Unfortunately for Jerrig, Trallik saw him at the last minute and threw himself to the side as quickly as he could, barely dodging the javelin and letting out a loud squeal in the process. In the meantime, Jerrig had picked up the other javelin and was preparing to defend himself in hand to hand if need be. Trallik, breathing heavily and leaning against the wall for support, grinned an evil grin and pushed off the wall. Bringing his bow up and grabbing an arrow both in one swift motion, Trallik was able to fire before Jerrig could bring his javelin to bear. Trying desperately to knock it away before it hit, Jerrig stumbled back against the wall. The arrow struck true despite his best efforts and soon Jerrig was on his way back to his starting point.

  The Honor Guard judge in the crow’s nest closest to them announced the second kill on Jerrig as he ran back to the starting point to wipe the paint off.

  Trallik wasted no time, continuing immediately down the passageway, fear coming back into his eyes as he sprinted.

  Durik ran down the passageway and through a couple of shaded side passageways to clear his lungs of the cryweed smoke and to clear his mind of his embarrassment. He tried hard to put away what he was feeling for Kiria. It was likely to lose him the competition! Shaking his head, his face hardened a bit, his determination strengthened, and he exerted all his strength of will to focus on the task at hand and push other thoughts away.

  Still lacking a belt, Durik wrapped the Ruined Bridge key into his loin cloth as he tied it. He stood up straight and took a deep breath, finally feeling his emotions under control. Taking the wooden sword in his right hand, Durik jogged the remaining distance toward the starting points on the outer rim of the obstacles.

  After going point to point through four of the points, Durik found a fighting spear, a sword sheath with belt for his short sword, probably the best of the remaining javelins, and a shield he hoped would serve well until he got up close with Gorgon.

  As he was fitting the shield to his arm, he heard one of the trainers yell Jerrig’s name. Not hearing the announcer call Jerrig’s status, he assumed that Jerrig must still be in the trials. He looked up at the pots and saw that Jerrig only had two flags now, confirming what he’d believed. Picking up the spear and javelin, Durik jogged into the nearest passageway and headed toward the Tower of the Chalice.

  As he ran, a strange feeling began to come over him again. Slowing almost to a stop, again an image began to form in his mind. As suddenly as it had two days before, his senses were flooded with light and an overwhelming feeling of power as the vision quickly formed in front of him. Blinking, Durik saw that now he was in front of a wooden door of the same style that could be found throughout the caverns of his gen’s home. In a moment he felt himself moving toward the door, accelerating until he was about to slam into it. Holding up his arms and closing his eyes, he did no
t feel the anticipated pain. Tentatively opening his eyes, Durik could see that he had somehow passed through the door and now stood inside a small closet-like room. To his surprise he saw several kobolds with the well-toned muscles of warriors, yet dressed as servant caste, sitting about the small room talking.

  The rush of power that surrounded Durik made it impossible to hear what they were saying, but Durik could feel the intentions of their hearts. He knew they had evil deeds planned. Suddenly, as he pondered on the feeling, Durik knew that these kobolds were conspiring to kill Lord Karthan. With a sudden burst of realization, Durik knew the door he had come through was the door next to the stands in the arena!

  Then, as suddenly as the vision had opened, it closed again and Durik was left staring up through the netting into the light streaming from the chimney of the great cavern. Blinking, he looked about and found himself still alone.

  Moments after the vision had closed and the surprise of it all had passed, a deep sense of power and strength still remained with Durik. With the close of the vision came the same doubts as before. Soon, he found himself wondering if what had just happened had really happened or if it was all the result of an overactive imagination. Never being one to let his emotions take over, Durik kept his head about him. The power and strength, however, were more than feelings. His mind was clear and his muscles flowed with energy as if after a good rest. Focus on the task at hand was easy as he scanned the passageways ahead of him for the slightest sign of any of the other yearlings.

  As Durik ran, the power and strength began slowly to decay until, arriving at the opening to the central clearing, it was little more than a refreshing memory. Though he was tempted to ponder on the matter further, Durik struggled to put the episode out of his mind and focus on the task at hand.

  There would be time to deal with all of these distractions, but now was not the time.

  Gorgon ran after Trallik with everything he had. It wasn’t the first foot race that he’d had with Trallik. He’d outrun him several times on short sprints, even when Trallik had a sizable head start. In the dim light of the caverns Gorgon’s precise stride and forceful pumping of his arms resembled the operations of a millwheel, rhythmic and powerful. The endless hours he had spent, both before the year of training and while some of the others were sitting around resting, had paid off, especially considering this time of rapid growth in the young kobold’s life. Scales rippled over bulging muscles as he ran.

  But for all his speed and strength, Gorgon didn’t know which way Trallik had gone when he reached a crossing in the passageways. He looked quickly to the left, the right, and peered ahead through the shadowy corridor ahead. Not hearing or seeing anything, Gorgon made a quick choice and sprinted off down the left corridor.

  Moments later he heard a loud squeal coming from behind him and turned immediately around to run the other way. Within a few moments he was back to the intersection and headed at a full sprint down the right passageway. The trainer in the crows’ nest closest to him yelled Jerrig’s name, and Gorgon knew he was on Trallik’s trail.

  Durik saw no one in the central clearing and figured that they must be nearby. Looking up at the two trainers in the crows nests perched over the obstacles, he noticed that both of them were looking down into the passageways not far to the right of his passageway. As he watched, he saw them carefully following something with their gaze that seemed to be quickly coming his direction.

  Durik stepped back from the entrance and, placing his spear against the wall, readied his javelin for throwing. From behind him in the corridor, Durik heard the soft sound of footsteps running toward him in the sand. His tail swishing slowly from side to side, Durik hunched behind his shield and raised his javelin above his head, prepared to throw. Almost immediately, Trallik came running into view down the corridor. Durik threw with all his might, hoping to catch Trallik off guard.

  Again, at the last second Trallik caught a glimpse of something flying in his direction and dropped to the ground, this time spilling the arrows out of his quiver as he came to an awkward stop face first in the sand. He wasted no time in getting up, however. Rising to his knees, he looked ahead of him to make sure Durik didn’t have another javelin ready while grabbing desperately for arrows and his knife. Behind him down the corridor he could see Gorgon make the turn in the corridor at a full sprint and head toward him.

  Caught between Gorgon and Durik, Trallik got his knife back in its sheath and, grabbing a pair of arrows in one hand, ran toward Durik. Durik had unsheathed his sword by this time and was headed for Trallik. As Trallik approached at a dead run, Durik swung low, attempting to trip him. Trallik dove over his sword and rolled head over heels twice on the other side of Durik then, standing, took off for the tower in the center of the clearing, shedding his newly broken bow and arrows in the process.

  Durik turned, sword and shield in hand, as Gorgon slowed to a cautious stop ahead of him. Panting heavily, Gorgon put the two javelins he’d been carrying against the wall and readied his warhammer.

  “Aha! We meet again!” Gorgon cried between breaths.

  “But this time the advantage seems to be mine,” Durik answered. “I’ll give you a moment to catch your breath if you’d like.”

  Gorgon looked at him for a second then, taking a final deep breath, replied, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll put you in your place either way.”

  Durik grinned and got into a ready stance, “We’ll see who does the putting and who gets put!”

  Almost simultaneously, the two of them rushed at each other. Durik brought his sword up to deflect Gorgon’s downward hammer swing, knowing that if Gorgon succeeded in connecting solidly with his shield the blow would probably numb his arm. As the weapons connected and Durik managed to stop Gorgon’s downward momentum, Gorgon brought his shield arm around from behind him and tried bowling Durik over. Durik was ready for his maneuver, however, and was able to push him off then step to the side.

  Gorgon swung his hammer around in an underhand swing at Durik’s shins, which Durik barely avoided. Stepping back a pace, Durik circled around him as Gorgon recovered from his last swing then, with the hope of catching Gorgon off balance, Durik stepped in with a thrust that Gorgon easily deflected with his shield.

  The two of them continued to trade blows warily for quite some time, neither one of them having the clear advantage over the other. At first, Durik’s slightly superior agility kept him one step ahead of Gorgon’s hammer. After a couple of minutes, however, Gorgon managed to catch Durik’s shield, ripping it easily from his grasp. Fortunately, Durik was near the spear that he’d left in the entrance to the passageway. Dropping his sword, Durik picked up the fighting spear and, after accustoming his hands to the grip of the spear again, went after Gorgon with all the spear-fighting techniques he had spent much of this past year developing. His efforts brought him no results, however.

  After making no progress in the close quarters of the passageway, Durik quickly gave ground and backed up into the clearing where he hoped to use the open space to his advantage. Gorgon pressed the fight and soon Durik found himself in a desperate fight to keep his spear and his footing in the face of a much stronger foe.

  Gorgon was determined to not grow impatient with Durik this time. He had learned his lesson the last couple of times that he had faced Durik and was willing to bide his time if that’s how it had to be to win the competition. If there was one way he knew he could beat Durik, it was in a contest of shear muscle and endurance. He was sure he could deal out more punishment than the smaller Durik could ever withstand.

  In the stands, the crowd went almost silent in anticipation as Durik and Gorgon appeared from a passageway on the far side of the central clearing. After a few moments, Gorgon’s father Goryon grew impatient and started yelling “Finish him, boy! What are you waiting for?!”

  Durik’s uncle Drok also started yelling “Hang in there Durik! Stay focused!” and after several moments “Don’t let him wear you down! Get in there
with him!” Darya, Karial, and Grimgnaw all watched intently with the rest of the crowd as what they thought would be the deciding match of the trials was fought out in front of their eyes.

  From the seats of the council member’s boxes, after a minute or two of this Khazak Mail Fist could barely contain himself. “Swat him down, whelp!” he muttered none too softly. “What are you dancing around with him for!? What is this, a social event or the trials!?”

  Seated next to him, Lord Karthan just smiled.

  Neither Trallik nor Jerrig wasted any time while Durik and Gorgon fought it out in the center ring. As soon as Jerrig made it back to his starting point, he wiped off the red mark from Trallik’s arrow and set about searching the points around him for javelins. He selected a good pair of javelins and a sword with scabbard that he hung on his belt. As he was getting ready to head back into the obstacles he stopped to think for a minute, then picked out a shield from the point he was at and slung it over his back. Feeling ready to end this competition and see what place he could take, if any, Jerrig started back toward the center of the obstacles at a slow jog.

  Trallik, on the other hand, ran almost frantically around the passageways between the clearing of the Tower of the Chalice and the Crucible. He soon found what he was looking for; the bow that Jerrig had dropped just a bit before. He picked up the quiver that went along with it and saw that it was empty. Cursing his luck, Trallik remembered the first kill that had been scored against him in the Tomb of Kor Obstacle area and thought that perhaps the arrows that had been fired might still be present. He quickly took off in that direction, skirting the central clearing as he did not want to tangle with Durik or Gorgon until he could do so on terms more favorable to himself.