After several moments of rubbing his knee, Draegos removed his heavy outerwear and went to see how the others were doing downstairs. Slowly, he made his way back to a set of tables stacked with various items and food wares. Glorýa found him and ordered him to sit as she brought a plate of meat and potatoes for him to eat. Once she’d made sure he was going to eat, she turned her attention back to the townsfolk and issued more orders.
Draegos glanced up to see Greffel entering the inn with an armful of supplies and gear. The gnome carefully placed his pile on the table and then sat abruptly by the dwarf, poured himself a goblet of mead, and drank it in one gulp. He brought his hand to his mouth and wiped away any excess while smiling. Soon the collecting was done, and the sorting began, as Greffel and Glorýa returned with their packs.
"Are you both going to be okay with walking?" Draegos asked.
"Nay. We have a wooden covered wagon pulled by two Mýd'Rým mares. Strong, sturdy horses that can handle these passes and they have a nice thick coat to keep them warm," Greffel informed the dwarf.
"At least we'll be out of the elements then. Is it a reliable wagon?" Draegos questioned.
"Aye, it is. Not a wind will penetrate the walls, and it has a small stove to heat and cook with," Glorýa told the dwarf and continued, "It might be a bit cramped with three of us, but we'll make do."
Each of them began to sort out the items—food stock, gear, and clothing—and piled them into respective piles. Then they each sorted the piles into items each could use, and those that would be backup or extra items. Finally, the three packed up both the gnomes’ bags and prepared them for the journey. The innkeeper had begun to usher out the townsfolk, as the three sat at the joined tables in silence. The three adventurers retired to their rooms to rest before the long journey.
Draegos removed his garments, and he sat on the edge of the bed in a nightshirt and shorts, thinking about the long trek that he and his new friends were about to take. He ran his right hand through his long, mahogany hair and stroked his beard while mentally preparing. He laid his head upon the pillow and closed his eye; the ghosts of his past began to dance in his mind, and his mind drifted towards the day his mother had died.
He had just received his rank as Mystic and was no longer an apprentice. After a time of apprenticeship, dwarfs celebrate a day when they become full-fledged members of their new professions. The event was known as The Day of Dedication, where they all dedicate their lives to their new career paths and conclude with a major feast of drinking and eating. Musicians play their songs, entertainers juggle and demonstrate their athletic skill on tightropes, and physical contests of fights and tactics are engaged. But on Draegos' day, there had unfolded a horror that would become the moment of which he knew everything had changed.
He had just received his talisman and made the oath to the Cabal of Mystics, a collective of mystics and magi, and was walking off the dedication platform when the horrible screeching sounds of a Veir'Diem filled the halls and mountain valley of the citadel. Panic ensued as the beast tore through the side of the auditorium and began attacking others, twisting its ugly head left and right as it snatched up dwarfs in its toothy maw. It chomped down on several at once, the blood raining down on several dwarfs as they screamed, running away in fear. A brigade of dwarven Marauders formed a line to protect the fleeing members, and held their shields up to prevent the creature from striking any more of the fleeing guests.
Draegos scanned the area of carnage, searching for his mother, and spotted her casting a powerful spell. But the foul beast had sensed her brewing magic and slithered towards her to end her life. She chanted and hurled fireballs the size of boulders at the unwanted adversary, standing up to a creature that was a hundred times her size. She glanced over at her son and yelled for him to escape, but his feet were frozen as he watched her unleash such powerful magic.
The Veir'Diem gushed a stream of fire and acid at the caster, but she had already anticipated the attack and protected herself. The fire and acid splashed around her, damaging the stone floors, but leaving her untouched. Draegos snapped out of his paralysis and ran, dodging falling debris and tail sweeps to help his mother fight the horrid beast that was destroying their home. Just as he was about to make it to her, the creature noticed his movement and went in for a strike but Draegos's mother saw the beast's movement.
"Leave my son alone!" she yelled as she began casting another spell. Deep inside she reached for the spark of life; holding it and forming it, she shifted her spell into a massive blow of ice and lightning. With a loud chant, "Án'neuýllya'destructyous'beyntous!”[10] she hurled a large bolt towards the enraged beast. Draegos ducked and rolled under the charging beast, pulling his bronze dagger out and cutting at the monster’s belly as he slid.
The creature howled in rage as it flailed its tail all about the room. But it turned its attention back to Draegos's mother, who had to stop casting and start dodging, and in one quick bite, she no longer there; Draegos turned to see his mother one last second before the beast's mouth engulfed her. Rage boiled up inside him as he began to hurl spells at the vindictive creature but none of his magic was strong enough to exact his revenge. He continued to throw spells, even as the creature began to bear down on him.
Out of the side of his vision, a new figure entered the fight. As Draegos hurled spells, the new figure maneuvered into position behind the beast and prepared an attack. That was when Draegos noticed a group of warriors preparing to engage the beast. He sent a lightning bolt straight at the eyes of his adversary. It roared as it remained focused on Draegos and went to strike out at the dwarf. He felt the pull of another person as his vision blurred before he realized who it was: his father.
Draegos was crying. He reacted with anger and rage as he struggled to be free from his father. He wanted to make the foul creature pay, for taking the one person who understood him away. As he struggled with his father, he saw the tears in his eyes as well, and he saw the pain his father had been feeling. Draegos turned and ran out of the room as his father pushed him away.
"Go! We got this, lad!" His father encouraged.
"I cannot let you go and fight the beast by yourself, Dá!" Draegos yelled out as he made his retreat.
"As the Marshal, I am ordering you . . .” his father managed to get out before the foul beast slammed its tail into his small form. It was a deadly blow.
Draegos watched as this creature destroyed everything. Deep inside, something snapped, and a surge of energy welled up inside the tiny dwarf. He slowly walked back into the auditorium to face the deadly adversary. Inside his eyes, rage burned like a torch, and even his breath formed smoke and vapor.
His talisman began to glow as he chanted the words for a powerful spell. His mind had never cast the magic, but something outside him was feeding him the words. He raised his hands high above his head; the creature turned towards him and locked his eyes on Draegos. The first bolt of dark magic hit the creature and sent it spinning across the room, slamming it into the wall that housed the kitchen behind it.
He brought his left hand down and made a whipping motion with it, and a gash as wide as several cows appeared across the beast's chest. Blood squirted out as Draegos continued his magical onslaught. He was glowing a dark purple color; his eyes held flames of anger as he brought his right hand down and then up, another gash appearing on the chest and neck of the damaged beast.
He was no longer in control, as he felt some being step in, and take over. Words he’d never uttered before passed his lips, and magic unknown to him cast from his very hands. The beast went to strike out at the tiny form but hit some invisible barrier; it roared in anger. Draegos began to hover as he hurled bolt after bolt of dark magic at the determined beast.
The dwarven Marauders fled the scene of carnage as Draegos hovered thirty feet in the air. Upon their exit, he began casting a mighty spell. The air grew hot, the walls seemed to shimmer, and all at once Draegos unleashed the blast of magic. It tore the body of
the Veir'Diem to shreds as it destroyed half the building in its wake. Draegos fell to the ground, hurting his right leg, and protectively covered his father's limp body from any falling debris.
The smoke cleared, dwarfs were searching for the dead, and Draegos sat with his father's head in his lap. The tears streamed down his face as he rocked his father slowly back and forth.
"Oh, Dá!" the dwarf cried as he stroked his dad's hair, "Why? Why, oh why?"
"My son . . . ," his father managed to say and continued with a raspy breath, "take my ax . . . Take it and find the stones, remember what I said when you were young. In the hands of a Mystic, it is a relic." His breathing grew shallow, his color began to fade, and his eyes were losing the light that had once shone so brightly.
"I cannot do this without you, Dá," Draegos sobbed.
"You are going to have to, my time has come. Go find the stones." The last words his father would ever speak to him. The ground underneath Draegos began to groan and shake, so the young dwarf grabbed his father's ax and retreated to his family's estate as panic began to overwhelm everyone again.
The ceilings began to fall, the walls began to crumble, and the floor started to crack in all areas. Draegos stumbled and fell as he made his way through the tunnels of the Citadel. Finally, he made it back to their residence, and he grabbed what he could for supplies, then donned a heavy winter cloak. He knew where the stones were, he simply needed to get to them, and he knew the way. He threw some ration packs into his backpack, some extra clothes, and grabbed his walking stick, the Ice Staff.
At about that point the hall to his residence fell in, sealing him off from the rest of the Citadel, so he had to take the hidden passage to the nearby cliffs to get away. He pressed the statue’s head and moved it back, the wall sliding away to reveal the passage, and he ran out into it just as the roof collapsed in his area. He dodged falling debris and twisted around piles of rock and walls, finally making it to the outside where he could see the brunt of the damage.
The fire erupted at every seam of the Citadel. Towers crumbled before his very eyes, and the ground cracked and seized; a horrible sight unveiled itself in front of the dwarf. The mountainside split wide open, fire shot out, and the whole Citadel seemed to fall into a massive pit of fire and destruction. He could see no survivors anywhere, heard no more screams, and saw no structure that survived the event. He slid down the side of the cliff wall and began to cry and shiver.
Wake up, Draegos. He heard his father say.
His eyes shot open, but the only thing to greet him was darkness and loneliness. He sat up, rubbed the right side of his head near his temple, and checked his leg. It was healing well, and the cuts from the break had all healed, while the tenderness was slowly subsiding. He looked around the room with his one good eye and marveled at his survival.
He pulled from his pack his small totem statue, an obsidian wolf, and placed it on his small table. He then lit two white candles and sat with his legs crossed. He whispered his chants as he prayed to the Old Gods and the Great Philosophers. His mind cleared, his heart steadied, and his resolve only grew stronger.
He placed the items back into his pack and secured their safety. He dressed, grabbed his pack and cloak, and headed to the pub downstairs. No one was up, so he headed out to see what the stars held for him. He tied his wool cloak around his neck, pulled the hood up, and left the warm confines of the pub.
The air was still, the snow light, and the darkness was at its deepest point. Draegos sensed something not right; a feeling of dread flowed over him as he nervously wondered what was going on. He turned his head left and right, taking in the silent landscape of the hamlet, and searching for anything amiss. He thought he saw something duck away behind some buildings but he wasn't sure, and he did not feel right.
He stepped back, pressed his body against the inn door, and waited. He thought he saw it again, but this time he knew what it was, Vro’Sado. His right hand grabbed the doorknob, turned, and he leaned back, falling into the room. His left foot kicked the door shut, and he scrambled to his feet. He grabbed his ax and yelled, "VRO’SADOS!"
He heard others upstairs frantically running around and then heading down the stairs. They had their armor on, and weapons were drawn as they hit the bottom floor. At about that moment, the door to the inn exploded with violent force and threw the dwarf back against the eastern wall. Greffel fired his hand crossbow, the bolt erupting into flames as it flew through the cold air and struck the cold creature in the chest.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" the gnome teased as he watched the elemental creature burn.
"Why is it you always get the first strike, Greffel?" Glorýa called out, as she ran and slid under a second advancing elemental and brought up her wrought-iron sword. The creature screeched and disintegrated. The two gnomes began to fight the remaining adversaries, back to back in a dance the dwarf had never seen.
"’Cause I got the cool toys!" Greffel laughed back.
"Maybe one day you'll learn how to fight then, yes?" Glorýa jested.
Greffel had dropped his hand crossbow and now fought with a hand ax made of silver, swinging high as Glorýa swung widely with her sword. Every time the creatures would go to strike them down, one of the gnomes countered, and the other gnome would slay them. They were in perfect sync, the dwarf noted. It was beautiful as he watched the two dispatch the group of Vro’Sados with hardly a blink. When they finished, they stood there smiling while making sure the other was all right.
Draegos stood up and dusted the dirt and snow from his cloak and then stepped over to the two gnomes.
"That was incredible. Where did you two learn to fight like that?" He asked as they gathered the bodies and threw them outside.
"We learned that from our parents, who also knew how to fight like that, and it just sort of works for us," Greffel explained.
"We may have others, we need to check the hamlet," Glorýa said.
As the small group left the inn and stood in the center of the hamlet, they noticed a very eerie silence that had crept over the area: no lights in any building, no sounds from the animal pens, and no movement other than their own. Gently, the wind pulled at their nerves, and the snow reminded them of their plight. There would be no one to hear them scream.
"I do not like this at all. Draegos, what happened at your Citadel?" Greffel asked as the trio slowly walked around.
"I do not know, Greffel. I am beginning to think something far bigger than the entire region is at work here," he said as he held his ax and scanned the area around them.
"I can sense evil all around us. This is not good, you two, we need to leave. This town is doomed." Draegos stated.
As if on cue, new elemental creatures appeared. They were the people of the hamlet, and they were surrounding the group on all sides.
"Oh, I cannot do this, Greffel!" Glorýa called out. "These people are our friends!"
"They were your friends," Draegos informed her, "but now they are agents of evil and seek to turn you into one." He began to chant a protection spell.
"If we do not fight them, we will die, Glorýa," Greffel said as he reloaded his crossbow and aimed it at the monsters directly in front of him.
"I’ve got an idea. Greffel, make a path for us, and then we'll lead them all into the inn," Draegos said. He then focused on his talisman and chanted the final words of the protection spell. All three began to glow a golden hue, their minds were clear, and their nerves steady as steel.
"Now, Greffel," Draegos ordered.
Greffel's shot was true. He aimed it right down the center of the elemental beings, and the spell from Draegos caused it to slay all of them in a line. Greffel let out a whoop and then slid behind Glorýa as the three headed towards the inn.
"Grab their attention and get them to follow us into the building," Draegos loudly spoke.
As they entered the pub, the Vro’Sados followed, and Draegos steered the group up the stairs. They made their way tow
ards the top, as he looked at his two companions, he said, "Go out the window in my room. Lock the door so none can get in. I'll be right behind you both."
"I am not leaving you to fight them here," Greffel shouted back.
"You have no choice." As he said that statement, his eye held a sad look in it. Draegos cast a spell and thrust the two gnomes into the room. He then grabbed the doorknob and shut the door.
The gnomes heard the dwarf laugh hysterically as he yelled, "If it is today that I die, then let it be in the greatest glory of battle!"
Glorýa sensed a high level of magic increasing in the building. She knew what the dwarf was about to do and grabbed her brother by the cloak hood and threw him out the window. She followed right behind him as the building exploded. They both landed in a pile of broken glass and snow, but only suffered a few minor cuts and bruises.
Greffel scrambled to his feet, helping Glorýa up as they watched the inn burning. Neither saw the dwarf or knew if he had even made it out. They walked around the lodge to see if their companion had managed to escape. As they rounded the corner to the back part of the bar, they saw him lying on the ground in a heap, smoldering. They ran over to him and rolled him over. He was okay, with a big toothy grin on his face.
"Now that was fun!" Draegos said as they helped him up. "We need to get moving."
"Our wagon is near the gates by the stables," Greffel said as they all began walking.
"Did you manage to get your supplies out before I put the inn to fire?"
"Aye. We packed the wagon before we went to sleep," Glorýa told Draegos.
"Good. At least we are leaving stocked and ready," Draegos said, as he looked around with his one eye. He walked on the left of the gnomes, knowing he could neither see nor hear on the right side, so they would be better prepared to react.
The Obsidian Axe: Prelude to the Prophecy Page 4
