The Game of Fates

by Joel Babbitt

  Standing in the very middle of the arena with ribs wrapped in bandages still, Lord Karthan held his bronze crown in his hands. He had seen this day coming, but had not wanted to see it come. But now, as he stood there alone, watching Kale and the others approach, in his heart he knew it was the right thing to do. For long he and his fathers had reigned, for the better part of a century, most of it marked by dissention and strife. Of this he was sure; the advent of the Kale Stone and the heir of the lost Lord Kale would put an end to that.

  Kale halted his entourage several steps in front of Karthan, then he himself took several steps forward flanked by his lifemate. Arriving in front of Karthan, he knelt in front of Karthan while his lifemate stood silently by his side. For a moment, Karthan looked down at the crown, then at the head of he who had come to claim it. Then with resolve he held up the crown for all to see, and meeting the gaze of the united Kale Gen that filled the arena to capacity Karthan took the crown in both hands and placed it carefully around Kale’s horns. The entire arena erupted spontaneously into cheers as Lord Kale stood up and looked at the crowd, the Kale Stone gleaming in his left hand.

  After several moments, Lord Kale turned to Karthan. “Karthan,” he said, “You will continue to serve this gen, will you not?”

  Karthan nodded. “However you would have me serve, sire,” he said meekly.

  “Would you continue to serve our people as my minister?” Lord Kale looked Karthan in the eye.

  Karthan smiled warmly and nodded his acceptance.

  Turning back to the cheering crowd, Lord Kale held up his hand to silence the crowd. Eventually, as the crowd settled down, he spoke.

  “My fellow kobolds and heirs of the Kale Gen,” he started. “And also our guests from the Krall Gen whose hearts are with your families on the other side of the fire.” The Krall Gen’s warrior host was silent and mostly tense.

  “I thank you for your acceptance of me and my house. But while that is important, I do not wish to speak of that, because yesterday… yesterday was a day of great sacrifice.” All around him the exuberance of the group became a bit more solemn. “Yesterday, my fellow Kales, over three thousand Kales, Kralls, and Kobolds stood first against the combined might of the Bloodhand Orc Tribe and its ogre allies, then against the might of perhaps the largest horde of great ants this world has ever seen. Finally, despite great losses, and in the face of certain death, our warriors stood against the fearsome red dragon, and by the power of The Sorcerer we overcame even that!”

  Brought from the depths of their sorrow to the light of their accomplishments, the crowd cheered, while many deep-throated yells came from the hundreds of survivors of the battle. After several moments, Lord Kale raised his hand to silence the crowd.

  “I honor the bravery and the skill of those who fought yesterday!” he said as the crowd cheered his words. “And may we never forget those who sacrificed all that we might live!”

  After a moment of reflection, Lord Kale continued.

  “There are many heroes, and all did their part. Today we honor but a few among the many. Mirrik! Hemmet! Come forward!”

  The two muscular warriors walked forward and knelt before their lord.

  “Be it known,” Lord Kale said loud enough for all to hear, “that these are the only two remaining leaders from what used to be the Deep Gen. They and their brethren of the former Deep Gen sacrificed much. Of their nine hundred warriors, not five hundred of them stand with us here today. The rest lay still on the field of battle or in the deeps. While all gave much, none gave more than them.

  “For this bravery and devotion, know this, that from this time forward I name Mirrik as leader of the newly reformed Deep Guard Warrior Group, and Hemmet as leader of a new warrior group called the Underdark Warrior Group, who will restore the Deep Gen’s home to our gen, and make their home in the underdark.”

  The two new Kale Gen leader caste stood up and, after grasping hands with Lord Kale, took their places back in line. Lord Kale beckoned for Goryon to come forward.

  “For those who were there, you saw what Goryon the blacksmith did with his great bows!” Many a hearty cheer erupted from the warriors in the crowd. “And what I’m sure everyone here heard already was how he made a lucky shot with one that brought the dragon down in the middle of the clearing.

  “Because of that, I hereby give Goryon the honor name of Lucky Shot!” The crowd cheered and laughed at the same time. “Furthermore, I name him leader caste, to lead the Metalsmithies Warrior Group.” Goryon blushed, yet at the same time it was obvious to see he was proud of his new honor name, and proud of his new post.

  At Lord Kale’s word, Goryon stood and returned to his post. Durik then came forward.

  After a moment, Lord Kale silenced the crowd. “Finally, not a month ago at the Trials of Caste that this gen held, a yearling passed not only from whelp to warrior, but he became a leader caste, and was given a company of warriors and an impossible quest.”

  Durik bowed his head and smiled to himself. It had been barely two weeks, but yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. He hadn’t even had time to move into his new house yet. Blinking, he looked back up at Lord Kale who had looked toward him before turning back to the crowd.

  “Not only did Durik’s Company accomplish their quest, but he and his companions played many key roles in our victory. Whether it was running through the underdark to gather the shards of a shattered Kale Gen, or scouting the orc horde with the Krall Gen, fighting ants and orcs, or leading the Wolf Riders as they led the orc horde on a merry chase, Durik and his companions have proved themselves heroes for all time.”

  Durik looked humbled and almost uncomfortable with the praise.

  “Finally, though all of that was miraculous in and of itself, still greater were the things that Durik did personally. He is the chosen of Morgra, who is the guardian of our race, and who is the Keeper of the Covenant of The Sorcerer. Through Morgra’s help and following her guidance, he came through untold dangers to find the Kale Stone for our gen. Also, by the power of Morgra and his own personal bravery, Durik personally slew the dragon.

  “Already Morgra has given him the title of paladin, and my predecessor has given him leadership of the Wolf Riders Warrior Group, so all that remains to me is to give him an honor name.” He turned to Durik.

  “Durik, paladin of Morgra, from now on you shall be known as Durik Dragon Slayer. May you carry that honor name with pride!”

  The Kobold Gen cavalry and the two hundred and some survivors from their other northern gen levies were gathered together to leave. They too had found shelter among the caves of the Kale Gen and had been enjoying their hospitality, meager as it was. But rain was on the horizon and they longed for home, so much so that one of the contingents of levies had already left. Before they left, however, the two leader caste paid Durik a visit in his new home in the leader’s grotto.

  “But I’ve no idea where your gen lies,” Durik answered, reluctant to even consider traveling with his day of joining on the horizon. Holding onto his arm, Kiria was even less excited about the idea.

  “Give him the map, will you?” Krulak prompted his companion.

  “Here,” Jominai said, passing a rolled up piece of lamb’s skin to Durik. “It shows where our gen is, though I think you’ll find that the Krall Gen traders know where we are as well. They run caravans our way often during the summer, though I’m not sure they’ll be that regular this summer.”

  “But why would you want me to come?” Durik asked.

  “Durik, you are the Paladin of Morgra,” Krulak answered. “My father, Lord Krulak of the Kobold Gen, would be most interested in speaking with you. We have… prophecies that we would like to share with you; prophecies that you may very well have the key to understand.”

  “And our mages could help your future lifemate here learn more about Covenant Magic, which is the type of magic she wields,” Jominai added, deliberately piquing Kiria’s interest.

  Kiria perked up quickly. �
�Lord Kale’s lifemate, Lady Kamia, mentioned that name. What does it mean?”

  “It is the type of power you wield,” Jominai answered. “We can tell you much more about it when you come.”

  “Listen, Durik,” Krulak said. “Our doors are open to you. We seek Morgra’s guidance, for it is long since we had it. Will you come?”

  Durik chewed on his lip. “I have your map, my friends. I cannot commit to it yet, but I will consider it. For now, I have my own gen to rebuild.”

  Krulak nodded. “We understand. But look at yourself,” he said, pointing at Durik’s bronze scales. “You cannot say that you are all Kale. Your scales place you as a descendant of the Kobold Gen as well,” he said, pointing out his own bronze-tipped scales. “And of purer blood than my own half-bronze, half-red heritage.”

  “Perhaps,” Kiria broke in, “but my lifemate to be is previously engaged. We shall have to see what the future brings. Now why don’t the two of you just run along.”

  Krulak chewed his lip. “Very well. Perhaps we will see you this summer then.”

  “Perhaps,” Durik said, smiling pleasantly as the pair of Kobold Gen leaders walked away.

  “Rather insistent,” Kiria said, a bit perplexed by the whole encounter.

  “Yes,” Durik agreed, a bit perplexed by Kiria’s protectiveness of him. Clearly, being joined was going to take a bit of adapting.

  Lord Krall, his son Krall, and all of the house guard and scouts who had mounts had departed for home immediately after the battle, leaving the leaders of the three warrior contingents to march their troops into the Kale Gen’s caves to wait out the fire. They had navigated the borders of the fire well enough and arrived in time to help guide their gen’s response to the crisis.

  It was only after the crisis had been averted and the fires had been dealt with that Lady Karaba could convince her son Morigar to come out of his room and face his father. That was not a pleasant meeting, made only worse by Krebbekar’s rather well-developed story telling ability. After a long evening of talk and ale, which was the only way Lord Krall could deal with his whelp’s shortcomings this time, Lord Krall decided to not exile his wayward youngest son, but instead gave him the task of personally cleaning up the mess of ash and soot the actions of ‘his dragon’ had left all over the place, starting with the Great Hall on the Lake.

  For failing to keep Morigar from his own follies, Krebbekar was given the task of personally watching Morigar and making sure he did a good job. This was truly the beginning of a new phase in their relationship.

  The day after the coronation, as if nature itself had decided to join in the days of mourning Lord Kale had proclaimed, one of the heaviest rains in memory fell on the southern valley, dousing the entire valley, swelling streams, flooding some of the lower meadows, and washing away thousands of scattered ant warrior bodies.

  The ants breathed through holes near the joints of their legs, which made them unable to go through all but the most shallow of water, and so none of them had been able to take shelter in the various ponds, lakes, and rivers that ran through the valley. Thousands of them that hadn’t died in the battle had mostly been burned in the fire, though for some time afterwards patrols from the two gens would find small groups of the creatures scavenging about their valley and the surrounding valleys, feral and uncoordinated without their queen to guide them.

  When the Krall warriors did finally depart the home of the Kale Gen, the march across the valley was slow and ponderous. Everywhere along the route blasted and burned trees had fallen across the trail, and every pond and spring along the way was covered with a thick film of ashes, leaving them without water until they reached the Great River near the borders of their land.

  The bridge across the river had burned in the conflagration, leaving only stumps buried in the riverbed. But ingeniously enough, the Krall contingent rolled tree trunks that were mostly intact out into the Great River which piled up against the pylons and formed something of a temporary bridge which they could cross.

  Upon arriving at their home, the members of the Border Guard, most of whom were pig farmers, sheep herders, and such as lived in the outer regions of the forest, were dismayed at the damage. The fire had not only consumed the outermost ring of walkways in the trees on the perimeter of their forest, but had raged through the undergrowth to consume many of their homes and part of the inner ring of walkways, leaving much destruction in its wake.

  Fortunately for them, however, the hundred warriors Lord Krall had sent back from their contingent had seen the danger coming and had evacuated their families and such animals as they could from the forest floor back to Lord Krall’s Hall on the lake. Still, roast pig and mutton was all that anyone ate for those first few days as families were reunited, the thick layer of ash began to be removed, and homes began to be rebuilt under the boughs of the great trees of Lord Krall’s Forest.

  The Day of Joining for the five couples had finally come, and for Kiria and the rest it had been an interminable wait. First there had been the days of mourning, during which Ardan had fetched his lifemate to be and Myaliae had fetched her family as well, and then it had been another two days just to find the flowers that tradition dictated for such a momentous occasion. But find them their males had, just as tradition dictated.

  This was a momentous occasion for many in the Kale Gen, and for none more than for the former members of Durik’s Company. Manebrow, Jerrig, Arbelk, Troka, Terrim, Tohr, and Kahn all formed the honor guard at the doorway for the five former warriors of Durik’s Company, and their former healer and loremaster as well.

  As the much family and many friends of those to be joined finished gathering in the Council Chamber of the Kale Gen, Lord Kale’s lifemate entered at the head of an entourage of whelps, all the younger siblings of those to be joined and others who had been invited to participate. As they entered, the young males carried the ceremonial spears, sticks really with chalk tips on them, that symbolized the males’ commitment to protect and provide, while the female whelps threw flower pedals about. One rather young whelp, Arbelk’s little sister Iggy as it turned out, made everyone laugh as she threw clumps of flower pedals about with much enthusiasm in her three year old interpretation of the traditional flower dance.

  Karthan stood looking at his two sons, Karto and Lat, whom Durik had invited to join the male whelps along with Manebrow’s three sons, since Durik himself had no little brothers. They stood looking as solemnly as they could with Manebrow’s sons on one side and a handful of Mirrik’s sons on the other. The new Deep Guard leader was leading the Sheerface excavation project, but he and Hemmet had taken leave of it for the joining ceremony. Their respect for these kobolds who had come to save them from certain death at the mandibles of the ants was too great to miss such a significant event.

  Khazak Mail Fist stood looking somewhat wistfully at the procession. After a few moments of watching the youngest of the whelps dancing about, he turned to his old friend and former lord. “Think we’ll ever find someone to be joined to?” he asked.

  Karthan thought for a moment before answering. “Think anyone could put up with us?”

  Soon, all the flower pedals had been thrown about and the little whelps had all taken their places near the gathering of adults in front of the semi-circular tables. At the head of the tables, standing in front of his raised throne, Lord Kale smiled as he saw those to be joined proceeding down the passageway.

  “The years are passing me by, you know,” Khazak said. “I’d like to have whelps before I’m too old.”

  Karthan just sighed. “Much joy, much pain, much worry you know.”

  The assembled crowd went silent as Trikki, Myaliae, Darya, Miratha, and Kiria entered the room ahead of their lifemates to be, stepping slowly in the ceremonial show of reluctance, though all of them were anything but reluctant. Their dresses were of green, as a symbol of life and renewal, and on their hornless heads were wreathes of white flowers on a bed of green leaves. In their hands they each held
a ribbon.

  As Khazak Mail Fist watched the first of them pass by, across the room he saw Miratha’s younger sister. Suddenly he realized she was staring back at him. Then she winked at him! Khazak just grinned back. After a moment he turned to Karthan.

  “I’ve heard Miratha’s younger sister is a healer… and she has yet to find a lifemate.”

  Karthan looked at Khazak approvingly. “Well, that would be a perfect match. You’re always needing a healer, after all.”

  “Aye!” Khazak replied, nodding solemnly.

  “She’ll have you in stitches,” Karthan said.

  “Lame joke, Karthan,” Khazak said, shaking his head.

  “I’m not the lord of the gen anymore,” Karthan replied. “I can tell lame jokes if I want.”

  “It never stopped you before.”

  Karthan looked shocked. “But you always laughed before. I thought they were good jokes!”

  “Well, you said it,” Khazak replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Before, you were lord of the gen…”

  Karthan just chewed his lip.

  As the five females took their place in front of Lord Kale’s throne, Trallik, Gorgon Hammer, Keryak, Ardan One-Horn, and Durik Dragon Slayer entered. As a token of their shared experiences, they had collected up five of the suits of armor they had made in the Krall Gen, over the top of which each wore the ceremonial crossbelts and sword of a warrior of the Kale Gen. Trallik had felt awkward about it when Kiria had suggested it, but true to character Durik and Manebrow had both provided the armor and insisted he wear it, as a veteran of the now disbanded Durik’s Company. In their hands each carried a golden implement as a token of their joining for both themselves and for their lifemates to be.

  “So how do you think Myaliae convinced Gorgon to be joined to her?” Karthan asked under his breath.

  Khazak just chuckled and shook his head. “For all his talk of being a leader, I think young Gorgon there got caught up in all the excitement among his friends. He did the convincing, you know.”