The Game of Fates

by Joel Babbitt

  Manebrow had given him permission to search for her at the Hall of Commerce instead of go to first meal after drills. He’d also been told to come right back as they were to start the process of making armor for the company today.

  Now, as the morning passed ever so slowly with the slow rhythm of the weapons drills, Ardan could hardly stand it. When the drills finally did end and the rest of the warriors were released to go to first meal, Ardan almost ran to the Hall of Commerce. Stepping inside he could see that the business of the morning had not yet fully commenced. The great floor was still being swept clean from the proceedings of the previous day and the various shopkeepers were mostly in their booths conducting inventory and setting out their wares for the day.

  Ardan stood near the door and looked around. The last time he’d been here, only a score of days before, Miratha had been working for one of the traders on the floor, finding sellers who were willing to accept the terms that her buyers were willing to offer, all this to fill the buyers’ orders that her master had accepted. She had not started as an order-filler, however. She had been a clerk, supply coordinator, and various other positions which had given her quite a good knowledge of the inner workings of the Krall Gen’s commercial structure. Because of this, her services had always been in high demand and she changed jobs when given a better offer for the month. Ardan was never sure where to find her during the day.

  Wandering around the edges of the great floor for a time, Ardan eventually caught sight of a new pair of booths off in the far corner of the hall. Unlike the other booths, these booths had no wares displayed, only parchments posted on the counter and outer walls. As he came closer, he noticed they were individual orders that this trading group was working to fill. Coming up to the counter, he saw a young male kobold, a yearling’s age at best, sitting on a stool behind a desk copying one parchment’s contents onto another.

  Ardan cleared his voice. The young kobold, startled out of his task, looked up at Ardan and blinked. “May I help you, stranger?” the clerk asked.

  “I’m looking for Miratha. She works for one of the traders in this hall, but I’m not sure where to get a hold of her at this early hour. I usually find her out on the floor making tra…” Ardan’s explanation was cut off in mid-sentence as the curtain over the doorway in the back of the booth parted.

  “Ardan!” a very female voice said. “Oh Ardan, it is you!” With that a shapely, confident looking female kobold about Ardan’s age rushed out the side door and came around the front of the booth.

  “Hi, Miratha, it’s so goo…” Ardan started, but was interrupted by a sudden embrace which knocked him back a step.

  After a moment of snuggling up to him and holding him close, Miratha looked up at him. “Whatever are you doing here? I’d not heard of a caravan coming in from the Kale Gen, just a warrior group.” She paused, then before Ardan could continue she cut back in. “Wait, are you…?” she rubbed her hands over the mark on his chest. “No, still a warrior.” She looked up into his eyes, “You’re not with this warrior group are you?”

  “I am, Miratha,” he said.

  “Oh, my,” she said as she let him go. “I heard they’re going north on some dangerous mission. Something about a dragon and orcs, or something like that. Oh, tell me it isn’t true, is it?”

  Ardan looked her in the eyes, “I’ve been given my own team, Miratha. I’m in charge of three other warriors now.”

  Miratha stepped forward again and held him close. “Hmm,” she purred, alluringly, “So does this big change mean you’re ready for more changes?”

  It was obvious to Ardan what she meant, as they’d talked about possibly becoming lifemates before. Taking her by the shoulders, Ardan gathered his thoughts. Certainly, Miratha was able to change subjects much quicker than he was able to keep up, and the immediate smell of her was making it hard to think. “We’ll talk about that some more. For now I’ve come to tell you that it looks like my company will be here for the next three days at least, if not a day or so more.”

  Miratha, whose face had darkened when Ardan put off her question, now brightened. “Will you have much time to come and see me? Oh, I’ve got this wonderful new soft sheepskin rug in my house.” Tracing the lines of the warrior mark on his chest, she looked at him coyly. “We could snuggle on it tonight in front of a fire.”

  “Oh, Miratha, you are certainly tempting. I wish I could, but I don’t know. I do know that, for the next three days, our company is going to be forging armor, and I’m one of two warriors in our group that has metalworking experience.”

  With pouty lips, Miratha absent-mindedly played with the mark on Ardan’s chest. “So am I going to see you at all?” she asked, not looking him in the eyes.

  Ardan embraced her. “I will come to you every opportunity I get.” Holding her out at arm’s length and looking her in the eyes, he continued, “Stop by the forges when you get done with your trading for the day. I’m sure they’ll at least let us eat third meal together.”

  Miratha smiled, “I’ll bring you something special for meal every night you’re here.”

  Ardan smiled back, “Just being with you will be special enough for me. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh, but I didn’t tell you. This booth, it’s mine! I’m my own trader now! How do you like that?” she said.

  Ardan was surprised and amazed. He took another look at the plain wooden structure. “Wow, that’s great!”

  Miratha spread her hands to take in the whole booth, “It’s not much to start with, only a booth and one clerk, but I’ve already got a lot of orders from my former buyers.” Turning to him, she continued, “Life continues, you know. Oh, Ardan, I’ve missed you so.”

  “I’m happy for you, Miratha, and I’ve missed you to.”

  Miratha looked at Ardan, who was fidgeting. “You look like you have to go,” she said.

  “I do. I have to rejoin the company. Manebrow, he’s the company leader’s second, he’ll be expecting me. We’re to start the process of making the armor this morning.”

  Miratha came forward and embraced him one last time then stepped back. “I’ll see you tonight then,” she said.

  “Tonight it is,” Ardan said as he turned to go. Turning back as if he forgot something, he said, “And Miratha, I love you.”

  Miratha smiled a broad, energetic smile. “I love you too, warrior leader!”

  With that, Ardan left to rejoin the company, looking back to catch another glimpse of her before he left the hall. She stood there watching until after he had left through the large end doors.

  As Ardan walked out of the Hall of Commerce, he heard the sound of metal clanging on metal in a steady, slow rhythm. Looking off to his left, near the edge of the lake, he could see a large group of some of the strongest kobold warriors he’d ever seen, all wearing thick boar-hide armor with iron shoulder guards fastened to it. They were marching in formation, some two score or more with packs on their backs, as if they were on campaign. Leading them was a large kobold Ardan recognized as their contingent leader from Lord Krall’s council two nights before. He looked proud to be marching at the head of so many fine, strong warriors.

  In one hand each of the warriors carried a pair of javelins. Over their backs they bore large shields almost as tall as they were, supported by hooks on their belts and straps over their backs. The clanging noise Ardan had heard, however, came from long, heavy swords that they each carried in one hand, lifting and striking them against their shoulder plating as they walked.

  These blades were wicked looking. They were curved forward, with only the inner edge being sharpened. It was obvious they were designed to take advantage of the strength of the bearer. These were not fine weapons, but rather heavy chopping devices meant as much to crush as to cut.

  Ardan was no stranger to the Krall Gen, having guarded many a caravan back and forth from his gen to this one. But in all his many trips, he’d not seen the Heavy Guard of the Krall Gen in battle array. Their reputation wa
s not unknown to him, nor their history. These troops came from the mines, where it was obvious that heavy labor had sculpted and hardened their muscles. It had done more than that to them, however. He saw many a broken horn, and many a shortened tail among the formation. Life in the mines was hard, and it produced some of the Krall Gen’s hardest warriors.

  As Ardan stood and watched the Heavy Guard, from across the lake came a much quieter group of kobolds. These were not formed as one group, nor were they so heavily armored. Rather, coming in five groups of ten with a pair of packdogs for each group was the Archer Guard contingent, also led by a kobold he recognized as their contingent leader from Lord Krall’s council two nights before. They wore no armor, preferring softer flaxen cloth died in earth tones. Over their backs they each had slung a pair of long quivers bristling with wide-feathered arrows. In their hands they each carried a bow almost as tall as they were. On their belts hung long, straight knives.

  Seeing the two warrior contingents approaching, Ardan looked about to see if perhaps the Border Guard was already assembled. As he passed the caravan drivers’ quarters, he looked off toward the main road into the woods. There stood Lord Krall with his eldest son. The younger Krall was dressed in the same armor that he’d seen Morigar wearing the morning before and was carrying a sword, spear, bow, and arrows. On his arm was a shield with the symbol of his lineage, a tall tree like those of their forest, and in one hand he held the reins of what had to be the biggest dog that Ardan had seen in some time. The massive brute had a wide body and equally wide jaws. His long legs and barrel chest showed the hours of work that Krall had obviously put into him. Behind the young heir to the throne stood a small contingent, perhaps ten or so, of what had to be house guard. They were all similarly equipped and were standing in two disciplined rows behind Krall, each holding the reins to a dog of similar heritage, though smaller than Krall’s imposing mount.

  Taking a few more steps, the Border Guard contingent came into Ardan’s full view. Standing in ordered rows farther down the path, the Border Guards were obviously ready and awaiting their companion contingents. This group was equipped much the same as the previous Border Guards Ardan had met. They wore the mottled brown and green clothing their contingent kept for excursions outside of the gen’s borders, though most of them had thick leather shirts on under it. On their sides were swords, over their backs were quivers bristling with arrows, and in their hands were bows, a shorter version than that of the Archer Guard.

  There was much pride in this group. Indeed, they looked as though they were ready to take on an entire orc tribe. Ardan chewed his lips in thought as he walked quickly toward the bridges on the lake, past the Heavy Guard’s line of march. He’d seen what these ants could do. He knew their absolute ferocity and their determination when stirred. Though he’d heard Gorgon talk about how he, Keryak, and Troka had stood against so many of them, still in his heart he wondered if these warriors, more used to fighting the much slower and more cumbersome orcs, could stand against the flood of furious ants that they would surely face. Nonetheless, he knew that an army of one hundred and sixty some warriors would definitely have a much better chance than his small company had had. In his heart, he wished them all the luck they would need, and that the Fates would smile upon them.

  As he approached the Great Hall, he saw his companions looking out across the lake at the gathering army. In all of their eyes he saw similar sentiments to those he was feeling. They had all seen too much of this enemy to think this would be a completely one-sided battle. Indeed, they suspected some, perhaps even many, of these warriors would not return. In spite of these ominous feelings, the warriors of Durik’s Company stood and watched the procession in solemn silence as the warriors of the Krall Gen gathered, reported, formed for the march, and then departed. Finally, as the last of them disappeared around a bend in the road, Ardan followed his companions as they made their way to the workshops to begin the task of making armor.

  Gorgon and Ardan looked on intently as Krebbekar stood explaining the ins and outs of the forge that the company was to use. It was a large, open-air forge kept hot by a sizable bellows. In a semi-circle around the forge were three anvils with a large, centrally placed rack of hammers, tongs, and such other tools as a blacksmith could want to perform his duties placed squarely on the other side of the forge from the bellows. To either side of the rack, easily within reach of each of the anvils, were placed two large, squat barrels filled with water for cooling the metal. This setup was almost the same as several they had seen in their gen. The one large difference between the two gens was that the Kale Gen had the knowledge and setup to not only deal with iron, but to smelt and forge steel. While the Krall Gen had most of what they needed, they did not have the knowledge of the process, and that knowledge had brought quite a bit of prosperity to the Kale Gen.

  To serve as a pattern for the armor they were to make, Krebbekar had set a suit of armor on a stand near the forge. Gorgon’s mind was racing as Krebbekar explained the setup of the shop. He had spent entirely too long in shops like this to listen, and he began to wonder if he might not take the ingots that Khazak Mail Fist had purchased for them and do something better with the softer, purer iron than just beat it into the shapes they were wanting. He determined that, after the others left, he would take a look around and see if he couldn’t find their smelter and see if something better couldn’t be done.

  Durik and Manebrow also stood looking at the ingots of iron that had come from the smelters. Kneeling down and walking his fingers up the layers of ingots, Manebrow started doing the mental calculations in his head. He was by far no expert smith, but by his count, even counting Kabbak and Kiria and allowing five ingots per kobold, there was more iron here than needed. In fact, there was probably an extra twenty ingots or so. Manebrow stood, his mind churning on the question of what he could do with the extra iron. Turning to Durik, he whispered his findings in his ear. Durik’s brows raised and he too began to think.

  As Krebbekar finished his explanation and turned to Durik and Manebrow, Gorgon turned to Ardan and, in a low tone, asked “Do you know where I could get some limestone around here?”

  Ardan looked confused, “Why do you….” Then his look changed from one of confusion to one of understanding. “Ah, I get it.” Thinking for a second, he said “I think I know just the person. Wait until the rest are gone. I’ll slip out and see if I can’t acquire some.”

  Gorgon nodded, “I’ll come with you too. I think we’re going to need some stone and mortar as well. But before we go, let’s get Tohr and Kahn working on making the molds for the armor pieces.”

  Krebbekar interrupted Durik and Manebrow’s conversation, “Will you accompany me to the leatherworking shop?” With that, the two leaders walked out the small door of the low, stone building where several of the other warriors were waiting.

  “All right Tohr, Kahn. Get in there and help Gorgon with the forge,” Manebrow ordered. “The rest of you will be working in the leatherworking shop.”

  Chapter 12 – The Old Dwarven Mining Outpost

  The light from the morning sun was already beginning to blend into day, destroying shadows and wiping away the chill of early spring. Karto and Lat, Lord Karthan’s two young sons and Kiria’s younger brothers, had spent the last two nights with Lord Krall and his lifemate, Karaba. But the two young whelps had been having nightmares, and Aba, as they called Lady Karaba, had asked Kiria to spend more time with them. When she asked Durik, of course he agreed. So that morning all three of Lord Karthan’s children were loitering about the caravan drivers’ quarters.

  On the porch of the quarters Kiria had finally given up trying to study the texts and maps she had brought with her. Not only was she already too familiar with them, but her two little brothers were entirely too much of a distraction. Even now, as she was packing up her materials, Lat had jumped on her back and was now bouncing up and down. Grabbing his feet, she stood up and raced around the courtyard in front of the quarte
rs while Lat squealed with glee and Karto raced after them crying ‘my turn, my turn.’

  As Kiria rounded the corner of the kennels she stopped abruptly, almost face to face with another female kobold about her age. She was dressed in a long earthen-colored robe with a pair of pouches slung one over each shoulder across her chest. She was clear eyed and had a confident look and seemed determined in whatever purpose she had in coming here.

  “Uh, hello,” Kiria said, putting Lat down on the ground. He and Karto quickly took off like two scared rabbits, squealing gleefully at having ‘escaped the scary orc.’ “May I help you?” Kiria asked.

  “I’m headed for the quarters, if you don’t mind,” the female kobold said as she moved to get past Kiria.

  “Um, well, there’s no one there right now. May I help you?” Kiria said.

  The female kobold stopped short. “What? Are you with the Kale Gen warrior group?” she asked, almost startled at the idea.

  “Well, yes, actually,” Kiria said. “I am a representative of the Kale Gen’s Lore Master. Our quest seems to be leading us to the Hall of the Mountain King. As I’m an expert in our gen on that place our Lore Master accepted my volunteering for the task.”

  The female kobold looked surprised, but pleased. “Well then,” she said, sizing Kiria up, “Well met. My name is Myaliae. I am a healer. I am the healer who healed two of your warriors when you first arrived… Jerrik and Trallat I believe.”

  Kiria smiled and took her hand, “Well met to you too, then, Myaliae, and my thanks for healing Jerrig and Trallik. Your help was much appreciated.”