The Game of Fates

by Joel Babbitt

  “There’s more to you than that fight back there,” Kale said. “You’re better than that, and I think she sees that.” He paused, looking into Trallik’s pained eyes. “Forgive her, Trallik, and ask for her forgiveness in turn. Go to her now. Love her.”

  Nodding, Trallik stood up. After a deep, shuddering breath, he began the long walk back to his guest chamber.

  Trikki still lay exactly where he had left her, the deer skin laying as he’d left it, almost carelessly thrown over her. Now as he stood looking at her, he couldn’t help but feel miserable for what he’d done. Without mercy he had accused her of all sorts of heinous actions, and yet never once had she raised her voice back at him. He had treated her without any respect. His heart ached with the pain he had caused her.

  Sitting down beside her on the large, colorless fur rug, Trallik could feel the moisture of her tears still. Gently, he began to stroke the portion of the deer fur rug that lay over her arm and back. Almost instantly her sleeping form seemed to stiffen, then as he continued to gently caress her, little by little she began to relax. After a while, her swollen eyes opened and she looked up at her mate.

  The hurt and fear in her eyes was more than Trallik could bear. He had to look away as tears began to fill his own eyes again. “I’m… I’m sorry, Trikki,” he started. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I’m afraid I’ve ruined our love. I’m sorry for saying such awful things about you, and I don’t hold your past against you. Can you forgive me?”

  The pain in Trikki’s eyes began to melt, being slowly replaced by a tentative compassion. They sat that way in silence for several moments. Finally, in a token of acceptance, Trikki lifted the deer skin. Trallik lay down next to her and the two of them lay close to each other for some time before, almost simultaneously, they moved toward each other, holding each other’s brightly glowing bodies in the darkness of the home of the Kale Family.

  Time passed and eventually the motionless pair fell asleep in each other’s arms, and though the scars of that night would take some time to heal, the looks of pain and hurt began melting away slowly in each other’s warmth.

  That night, as both valleys were alive with the movements of masses of orcs, ants, and kobolds from many different gens, Kale lay blissfully unaffected by it all. But despite this sheltering, sleep would not come to him. Two or three times he rose from his bed, the bright form of Kamia, his lifemate, lying still on the other half of the straw mattress.

  Finally, as the second watch of the night came to a close, he rose from his bed yet again and, taking spear in hand, he walked the halls of his family’s domain. From the living quarters to the council chamber, and from there through the amphitheater and out to the watcher’s post where he greeted one of the young kobolds who had treated their guests so rudely. All seemed to be in order, and yet still his mind remained unsettled.

  As he walked back through the council chamber and into the hall beyond that led to the living chambers, he noticed a side passage that he’d not entered for quite some time. Though it only held storage chambers, he felt the need to go down that hall.

  He did so.

  Turning a corner, he noticed light emanating ever so faintly from a crack under one of the doors. Grabbing his spear tightly, Kale walked quietly toward the door and listened. There was no noise to be heard, and the light itself did not flicker. Whatever this constant source of light was, it seemed to be as steady as the magical light orbs set in the ceiling of the council chamber.

  Kale could see that the door was ever so slightly ajar, but not far enough to allow him a view of what was inside. Moving as silently as he possibly could, he pressed one hand lightly against the door, edging it ever so slightly open. When light appeared through the crack, he stopped and peered forward through the slight crack. The room inside was empty except for what appeared to be a small, translucent, mercurial stone that was suspended in the air. Kale had found the source of the light, for the stone itself glowed with a stunning brilliance.

  “Kale, son of Kale, come forward,” the voice came out of nowhere, and yet everywhere. “I have a task for you.” The voice was deep, resonant, and yet pierced him through.

  Almost without noticing that he was doing it, Kale opened the door and stepped fully into the light.

  “I am Kamuril, and I will soon be set free. I am the power of your fathers, and Morgra who watches over your race has sent her paladin to restore my power to you.”

  The voice was soothing, yet commanding, wise, yet young and strong in timbre.

  “But, what are you?” Kale asked in amazement.

  “I am the power given to the second son of Kobold, the First Sire. I am the Kale Stone. With my power the right to rule the Kale Gen is secured. And shortly that right to rule will be yours. You will be he who reunites the Kale Gen.”

  Kale was overcome. He dropped to his knees. “But how can this thing be? I am but an exile, an outcast and son of outcasts!”

  “In time it shall be shown to you,” the voice continued. “Now, you must gather the strength of your house. Go to. Gather the outcasts, and those who call themselves the Deep Gen. They must be warned, for a great danger comes that they do not see. All who live below the southern valley must be gathered to the ancestral home of the Kale Gen. All must be warned to flee to those caverns. Go to, for you are called to be a voice of warning and to save your people.”

  Chapter 5 – The Gathering Begins

  Trallik and Trikki decided to leave before anyone else was awake, to avoid any more uncomfortable run-ins. So, after a few hours of fitful sleep, they gathered their few meager belongings and left the guest chamber the Kales had provided them in the living quarters of their family’s halls.

  As they entered the lighted council chamber, they were both surprised to see Kale kneeling, deep in thought in front of the tall green-stone throne that dominated the center of the room. As they entered, he looked up at them and they could see he had not slept since they last saw him. It was equally obvious by the burdens they carried that the two young lovers were leaving.

  “We have waterskins and sacks of food that you may take with you, if you’d like,” Kale offered, his voice subdued, his shoulders slumped as if carrying a great burden. “If you’re going to our ancestral home, the only thing I ask is that you tell your lord that he will soon have many visitors from the underdark. I believe that me and my people, as well as perhaps many from the Deep Gen, will be gathering to meet with him.”

  Trallik, who’d been worrying about supplies, wondered at Kale’s words, but he nodded his head in acceptance and agreement and asked no questions. He felt he should say something, but didn’t know what to say. “I would wait for you, but I must warn my gen. They must know of the approach of the orc horde before it is too late,” he stumbled over the words.

  “That may be why we are to gather to the Kale Gen. I’m afraid I don’t know,” Kale said mysteriously as he stood, rubbing legs that had gone stiff since he had knelt there. Taking the two of them back into the storage rooms area, he pushed aside an ancient door with creaking hinges and rummaged around in a pile of leather goods until he found two good waterskins and a sack. In the next room he took liberally from their stores of dried fungus and salted meat, stuffing the sack to capacity. In a common chamber in the midst of the store rooms sat a well from which he filled both of the waterskins. With a smile, he handed the items over to Trallik and Trikki. After giving them general directions of how to get back to the Doorstep, as the two didn’t want to attempt a climb up Sheerface from the underdark, Kale saw them to the lookout post at the entrance past one of the young scouts who had harassed Trikki the night before and to the entrance from the large sandy cavern that would start them on their way.

  They thanked Kale for his hospitality and, after saying their goodbyes, Trallik and Trikki began the journey of nearly half a day to get back to the Doorstep.

  Trallik grabbed Trikki’s wrists for the hundredth time this day to help pull
her up onto the stone balcony that led into the sandy chamber where he had acquired the deerskin blanket from the sleeping orc patrol. It had been a long and arduous journey, one he’d not want to have to do again any time soon, but already he could smell the change in the air.

  The strength of the wind escaping from the underdark had grown as they approached the area of the Doorstep, and with it their hopes had grown. For all the time they’d spent underground in their lives, like most kobolds Trallik and Trikki enjoyed the outdoors. The vibrant colors of light when compared to the black, grey, and white of heat vision; the freshness of the air and the sounds of the animals of the forest; even the warmth of the sun and the coolness of night in late spring: the dank cold of the underdark just couldn’t compare.

  “Oh, Trallik, I’m so glad we’re almost at the surface again!” Trikki smiled. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sun, and felt the warmth of it on my body.”

  “Shh, my love,” Trallik whispered. “There may be orcs or other things about. We must be quiet. The Doorstep is a dangerous place.”

  Trikki closed her mouth and ducked her head, as if she were trying to hide behind Trallik.

  The pair quickly made their way through the sandy chamber past the body of the orc that Trallik had seen beheaded by the orc he now knew to be Shagra, the orc champion, some days now in the past. His body now lay stripped of anything valuable and in the same spot where it had been before, between the pair of passageways that led out of the place. Putting his hand on Trikki’s face, Trallik carefully pulled her gaze away from the bloated body with its mottled green skin as they passed by.

  Taking the left passageway, Trallik kept a careful lookout as he snuck down the passageway, holding Trikki’s timid hand reassuringly while in his other hand he held one of his long knives. As he walked, he wondered what had happened to the elf prince Arren. They had parted ways on the far side of the passage beyond, and he longed for the protection of the expert warrior. For all his prowess, Trallik was just one kobold warrior, and now he had a lifemate to protect as well as himself.

  Coming to the juncture in the passageway where it met up with the broad passage under the mountains between the north and south valleys, Trallik stopped to look. There was nothing to the right, and there was nothing to the left. In both directions, the faint light of day could be seen. The gentle breeze that blew mixed with air coming in and through the passageway, refreshing the pair as they breathed it in.

  Though there was nothing in either direction, still Trallik hesitated.

  “What is it, Trallik?” Trikki asked, hanging on his left arm.

  Trallik stood silently contemplating both passageways for a moment. In one direction was his home gen, the family he’d grown up in, and the caverns he’d known as a whelp. In the other direction lay… well, he didn’t really know, but it wasn’t what he’d known before. He couldn’t help but think that more adventure, greater opportunities, perhaps even Arren the elf prince were to be found in that other direction. He wondered, were they to go north instead of back to his home gen, if it would even matter. In his heart he struggled to decide if he should return to his home gen, and if he would even feel comfortable there now, as these several days away from his gen had seen so many changes in him. Another thought occurred to him that it might be better to start anew somewhere else, somewhere where he was unknown.

  “I’m cold, Trallik,” Trikki shivered. “I want to feel the warmth of the sun. Do you think your mother will like me?”

  Trallik’s attention was quickly snapped back to reality. Shaking his head to refocus himself he looked down at Trikki. “Of course she will. After all, you love me, and so does she.”

  Trikki nuzzled up against Trallik’s shoulder. “I can’t wait to meet your family.”

  “I think you’ll like them.”

  “Mmm… And even if it takes them a while to get used to me, I know they’ll love your son,” Trikki purred.

  Trallik just about fell over. “What?” he said as he turned to face Trikki, his attention fully focused on her beautiful, beaming face. He felt like he’d been slapped in the head with one of the wooden poles they’d used as training spears in their year of training.

  “Well, that’s what we were doing, you know,” Trikki said defensively, “back there in the grotto.”

  Trallik’s eyes were wide open and totally unfocused on anything but her eyes at the moment. “You’re… you’re pregnant?!”

  Trikki smiled gleefully and nodded.

  “How did that happen?!” Trallik was exasperated.

  “Silly, you were there. You know how it happens.”

  “Yes, but… but… how do you know?”

  “I can feel it,” she said as she nuzzled up to his chest.

  Trallik was stunned and speechless.

  After several moments, Trikki spoke. “I want to feel the sun, Trallik. Shall we go now?”

  Taking Trikki by the hand, the pair of future parents turned as one and began to make their way south, toward the Kale Gen and the caverns where Trallik was born and raised.

  Kale felt strangely refreshed for not having slept at all. Now, after a large breakfast he had ordered for the entire family, he stood facing the sixty-some kobolds of all different ages and both genders that formed the sum total of his family. What he had to tell them was hard enough for him to believe, much less for the rest of the family to believe. He had spent much of the night worrying about this moment.

  Seeing him standing as if to address them all, the entire family slowly quieted down. The mood in the hall was light and cheery, unburdened as yet from the cares of the day ahead.

  “My dear family, Kales all!” he started, with cheers from some of the assembled crowd. “I wanted to bring you together today to speak of a very serious topic.”

  All but the younger whelps in the crowd focused more intently on their leader. The good feeling the large breakfast left with them all helped to sharpen their focus and prepare them to hear whatever it was he needed to say to them.

  “Long before I was born my great-great grandfather was Lord of the Kale Gen. That was a time of great power, as you can see by the halls we live in, carved by that power many years ago when our ancestors came here.

  “That power came from two sources. The first source was and is the Covenant that The Sorcerer made with our very world, even Dharma Kor, to pass His magic on to us, His servants, using the language of dragons. Sadly, that power is no longer among us.

  “The second source of great power was a stone that our ancestor, as a direct descendant of Kale, had a right to use. This stone of power had a name; Kamuril. It was called the Kale Stone, and for some amount short of nine-hundred of the past thousand years it gave its power to our ancestors. Then, more than a hundred years ago my great-great grandfather disappeared on a quest. The stone of our ancestors with its great power disappeared with him.”

  He paused to look around at the assembled members of the family, and to give them time to understand what he’d said. As outcasts, history was not something they talked about all that much, and in fact many of the younger kobolds had never been taught more about their heritage than that which was related to the wondrous stone halls they lived in.

  “I am here to tell you that the Kale Stone is about to be found. I have seen a vision in which I saw it.” There were a lot of surprised looks, but no murmuring. “In that vision, the Kale Stone appeared to me. Its light was intense, brighter almost than the light of the sun. In this vision it spoke to me. It let me know that it was about to be found. Soon, the stone of our ancestors will be restored to our gen.”

  There was an excited buzz among the collected members of the family. To Kale’s relief, there were no murmurs of dissent, only wonder.

  “What else did the stone reveal to you?” Kale’s younger brother asked as he sat among his lifemate and children. His face showed only the concern of a caring brother.

  Kale dropped his head and paused for a moment before looking him
in the eyes. “My dear brother, it told me that I am to reunite the Kale Gen, starting with the outcasts and the Deep Gen, though I do not know how yet.”

  He paused again before continuing. “Perhaps most importantly, the Kale Stone gave me a warning for all who live below the southern valley. It said that a great evil will soon come upon us, and that we must flee to our ancestral home; to the caverns now inhabited by those who call themselves the Kale Gen.”

  The entire family gasped almost as one. They trusted him, and that was evident in their conversations, for the conversation immediately turned to what they would have to do to abandon their home and flee.

  ‘Will we ever be able to return?’ ‘What is this great evil?’ ‘Will the Kale Gen accept us back among them?’ ‘Will we have to fight?’ ‘Can I take my doll?’

  The last question was from Kale’s young daughter. She had come forward and was clinging to his leg. “Yes, my sweetness,” he caressed her cheek with his hand. “You can bring your doll.”

  Soon, Kale, as leader of the Kale family, had decided that there must be some time before whatever danger it was arrived, time sufficient to gather the outcasts and warn the Deep Gen at least. So he told the females to gather their most necessary possessions and sent the young males who had no families to worry about out to each of the major outcast families, directing them to stop by the home caves of the minor, disparate outcast groups that would not attack them on sight.

  Leaving his younger brother in charge of the preparations and bidding his family farewell, Kale shouldered his pack and took his spear in hand and headed off toward the home of the next largest of the outcast families to warn them and plead with them to gather themselves.

  Trallik and Trikki rested in the underbrush. It was late in the evening. The sun had set, but its light still shone from behind the western mountains, casting long shadows from every tree and bush. This and the brief time before the sun appeared in the morning were the two times when a kobold was the most blind, that eerie twilight where light was failing, but yet was still strong enough to spoil their heat vision.