Alexander still unrolled the paper as gently as possible. Upon discovering the page covered in what looked like very old dwarven runes, he said, “I’m afraid I don’t read, or speak, your language, elder Tomebinder.”
“Ach! O’course ya don’t! What was I thinkin? Here, let me.” The elder took the scroll back and began to scan down the lines of runes. “Here! This be the good part!” he began to read aloud.
“The Dire Baron arrived at the south gate with a wagon o’ ore and gems from his mines. He offered trade by weight fer armor and weapons crafted by Broken Mountain smiths. The king asked but one question: ‘It be said that ye use slaves to work yer mines. Be there any truth to this?’. The Baron grew angry, yelling at the king to mind his own lands. Taking it as confirmation, the king yelled back ‘Ye’ll get no weapons nor armor from me to help ye enslave free people!’. The Baron was given two hours to leave our lands and never return. He swore as he left to get revenge for the insult. The next morning two border scouts failed to report. The king swore it were the Baron who took them, but no proof was found.”
“Thank you, Master Tomebinder. This baron guy, he was a real shit, wasn’t he?”
“Aye, lad. That he was.” The elder nodded. “He were a large part of our decision to withdraw from our dealings with humans. If he’d not been killed by the wizard, likely we’d have gone to war.” The elder patted Alexander on the shoulder, wished him good luck, and departed.
The Wizard. Have to remember to ask Fitz about this, Alexander thought to himself.
Soon enough, Thea led Alexander back toward the portal. He found a dozen carts and wagons pulled by twice as many ponies. The carts were stacked with what looked like mining gear, farming equipment, furniture, and more than a few barrels of ale. There were a dozen dwarves in spiked boots with chisels and hammers on their belts that were clearly miners or masons. Another, slightly larger group, looked to be three or four farmers and their families, including two very small children, who couldn’t have been more than 2 feet tall, racing about among the carts.
Thea led them all to the training ground, where they lined up in front of the portal. Alexander, realizing suddenly where he was about to lead these folks, jumped up on top of the lead cart and waved his hands for attention. Then he called out. “Before I open to this portal, I need to say three things. First, you are all welcome guests at Greystone compound.” That should take care of the wards… he thought. “Second, as Knight-Advisor to King Charles, and as a friend of the Village of Whitehall, I welcome you to both the kingdom and the village!”
At this, there was a smattering of cheering and fists raised in salute.
“Lastly, and just as importantly, some of you know my guildmate Brick is a paladin of Durin…” he paused while several of the dwarves nodded their head. News got around fast. “As you may also know, your King will be visiting the human kingdom in just a few days. Brick has prepared a surprise for King Thalgrin’s visit. Before I open this portal, I need your word, each of you, that you’ll not discuss what you see with anyone until after the king’s visit!”
This caused some concerned grumbles among the dwarves. Until Thea, who knew what Alexander referred to, laughed. She made a big show of stepping in front of Alexander, bowing slightly and loudly stating, “I swear by me beard that I’ll not utter a word o’ what I see on the other side o’ yer portal until after me king’s visit.”
Upon seeing this, each of the dwarves in turn made the same gesture and swore the same oath. Even the children mimicked their elders, swearing something close enough for a smiling Alexander. With that, he turned and opened the portal. He had Thea hold them back long enough for him to step through and make sure of the wards, then he motioned them forward. The caravan moved into the guild compound courtyard, forming up in a circle around the portal as each one moved aside to make room for the next. Once they were all through Alexander let the portal close.
Allowing a giddy Thea to lead the caravan around the residence toward the gate, he walked next to her and watched for the first of the dwarves to spot the dragon forge. They didn’t disappoint.
The driver of the lead wagon was the new quarry master, Master Stonebreaker. As they rounded the residence, he turned his team of ponies toward the gate. Looking up, he spotted the forge. Yanking back on the reigns he stood in the wagon, eyes wide, and shouted, “Durin’s balls!”
Fearing they’d been led into some form of trap, especially after Alexander’s mysterious oath, the other dwarves instantly took weapons to hand and rushed forward. Each of them, eyes scanning the courtyard for danger, stood absolutely still upon seeing the forge. Some dropped weapons along with their jaws.
The quarry master stepped down from his wagon, and approached the dragon forge. Several paces away, he stopped, and turned to look at Alexander, a question on his face. Alexander nodded, and the dwarf stepped forward. He laid a hand on the doorway, and Alexander guessed he was using his earth sense to inspect the structure.
“BWAHAHAHA! Now I see why ye demanded the oath!” he roared. “When me king and Master Ironhammer see this… why they’ll… they’ll… shit diamonds!” He shook his head, still laughing.
Recovering from their initial shock, the other dwarves all began to laugh and joke as they approached and inspected the smithy. Each of them got quiet, though, as they stepped inside. There was a silent reverence among them all.
After a few minutes, Thea pushed them all out and back to their wagons, and the caravan headed out. As they proceeded through the human city, the parade of nervous dwarves was greeted with a few odd looks and concerned stares, but they received many more smiles, waves, and well wishes from the growing crowds. Some were even given small gifts of food or flowers.
When they reached the gate, the guards on duty saluted Alexander as a Knight Advisor to the king. Then, surprisingly, they repeated the salute for each cart and wagon that passed through. Each of the dwarves saluted with fist to heart in return.
Upon exiting the gate, Alexander hopped up next to the quarry master in the lead wagon. With everyone riding, and the ponies moving at a trot, and the improved trail, the trip to the village went much faster than it had with the refugees. They arrived in less than an hour. Having alerted the others in guild chat, Alexander and the dwarves were met at the gate by the mayor and a significant number of villagers.
“Welcome to Whitehall!” the mayor called to them. “On behalf of all of us, I wish to thank you for your willingness to help us grow our small village into a safe and prosperous home. We have prepared a modest meal to celebrate your arrival. Please, come in! Come in! There is room for your wagons near the inn. I’m afraid that’s the only lodging we can offer until more permanent homes can be built. And once again, welcome!” The crowd applauded and cheered the mayor’s speech and their new arrivals.
The wagons and carts were pulled through the gate and moved to the grassy area behind the inn. Ponies were unhitched and allowed to graze. Ropes were strung between the wagons to keep the ponies from wandering too far, not that they would. Accustomed to the sparse scrub grass of their mountain home, this lush green meal was likely the best they’d had.
The thirty new dwarves then followed the villagers, and all moved to the warehouse area where more tables and seats had been arranged. There was roasted venison, pork, and rabbit, as well as fresh fruits and vegetables. Millicent and Theresa had brought fresh bread, and covered an entire table with an assortment of pastries and cakes.
The dwarves, not wanting to be outdone, opened a half dozen kegs of ale they’d pulled up on a hand cart. The food and drink flowed, and humans mingled freely among dwarves. The celebration went well into the evening. Stories were told, and friendships were begun. Brick was especially popular, as each of the dwarves came to pay their respects at some point during the evening. Their amazement at seeing the dragon forge had not quite worn off.
Brick, enjoying the attention, decided to show off just a bit more. Gathering the new arrivals, he led
them all to the newly consecrated chapel. Seeing the hammer symbol of Durin on the altar, the dwarves all took a knee and bowed their heads in a moment of silent prayer, which was followed by gasps and exclamations as he led them downstairs, recounting the consecration as they marveled over the twice-blessed altar. The stone masons in particular were enchanted by the infused and now crystal clear obsidian.
As it turned out, a half dozen of the homes that Fitz and the earth mage had converted from wood to stone did not have owners, as they’d belonged to folks killed in the goblin raid. The four farmers and their families each claimed one, and with the help of many of the villagers, were able to move enough of their belongings inside that they could spend the night in their new homes. A couple of them would need some enlarging, but that could be handled tomorrow.
The stone masons asked for use of the empty barracks at the gate house. There were now three working bathrooms and showers in the back of the building that Fitz had connected to the water supply and sewage system. The small armory was sufficient space to store their tools and supplies. The dwarves preferred to sleep on the stone bunks that Alexander had raised, as opposed to the beds at the inn. Master Stonebreaker declared the barracks more than satisfactory, at least until a more permanent arrangement could be made.
With everyone situated for the night, Alexander and friends retired to the inn and their beds.
The next morning, Alexander bribed the mage guild’s earth mage with a large supply of Millicent's cakes to stay one more day and assist the dwarven families with expanding their homes. Two of the families had four children, and the standard two-bedroom homes were a bit crowded.
Alexander asked Fitz to join him on his trip to Millicent's to make the arrangement. Fitz was, of course, more than willing to tag along. After paying Theresa for enough pastries and cakes to last the Mage’s Guild a week, he and Fitz grabbed a few for themselves and sat outside to enjoy their breakfast.
“Fitz, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Alexander began. The wizard, mouth full, just nodded for him to proceed. “The day we met, Lydia was teasing you about the wife you never married. The woman you rescued from a keep?”
“Agatha,” the wizard chewed more slowly as he began to recall memories of her. Alexander gave him a minute. “Yes, what about her, boy?”
“Well, you see, when we cleared the first demon dungeon last week, we were each given a golden key that was called “Key to the kingdom”. We took them to the king, but neither he nor his archivist knew anything about them. I showed one to the dwarves, and Master Tomebinder was able to identify the sigil of the Dire Baron on them.”
“Tomebinder! Ha! Is that wrinkled old stone hugger still alive? I really must pay a visit to the citadel. It has been too long,” Fitz mused.
“What can you tell me about the keep, Fitz?”
“Ah, well,” the wizard chuckled. “I can tell you that I knocked half of it down!”
Alexander sighed. “Yes, Fitz. I remember you saying that. And we’ve seen the ruins, but we have these keys. Keys that were found on an altar at the bottom of a dungeon filled with demons. Keys that have the Dire Baron’s sigil on them…” he gave the wizard a significant look.
“Yes, I see what you mean.” The wizard stroked his beard, which was full of pastry crumbs. “The baron was a distant cousin or something of the old king. He’d been given the land by Dire Falls to oversee the production at the mine, and to keep down the dire wolf population that threatened the local farms. Though I think mainly the king put him there to get some distance from him. He was a truly miserable shit.”
“So I gathered from the dwarves,” Alexander agreed. “They told me he kept slaves, and that he nearly caused a war.”
“Slaves. Yes. It didn’t start that way. He was put in charge of a hundred or so citizens when he was given the land. Miners, hunters, support staff like crafters, cooks, farmers, and the like. He made a deal with Broken Mountain for the dwarves to build him a keep. He paid them with ore and jewels from the mine. For several years, he did as he’d been bid by the king. He culled the wolves, operated the mine, protected the farmers. There were rumors of abuses, daughters stolen from families to become concubines, and such. Nothing the old king wasn’t willing to overlook.” Fitz began to look angry.
“Those were different days. The nobles of the land treated peasants as property, and the baron was worse than most. Once his keep was completed, he sent the dwarves away and locked the gates. Within a year, the rumors increased. Citizens were disappearing. Taxes owed the king went unpaid. The dire wolf population began to grow unchecked.”
Fitz paused. The look on his face showed he was reliving some event from that past. “At that same time, a nasty old minor lord who’d made a daughter with a poor servant girl in his household, decided to marry that daughter to the baron, thinking it would earn him a wealthy son, and more access to the king. Agatha was that daughter. A lovely young thing, 16 years old at the time. She’d been a friend of the princess, and would often be found singing songs to the birds in the palace garden. Everyone in the palace loved her.” Fitz was smiling to himself.
“The old king requested I escort Agatha and her father to Dire Keep to meet her future husband, and to inquire about the unpaid taxes. The poor girl tried to be brave, though she’d heard the terrible rumors about the baron. She was half noble born, and determined to embrace her fate in service to her family. I remember being proud of her and sad for her at the same time.”
“When we arrived at the keep, it was nearly silent. The guards opened the gates for us without a word. Silent stable hands came for our horses and the carriage. The Chancellor spoke a brief welcome, and escorted us to the great hall, where a feast had been prepared. The baron was all smiles and gracious welcomes. He offered food and wine, served by silent servants, and conversed at length with Agatha’s father. Though after the initial welcome, he barely acknowledged Agatha all evening. When she couldn’t take it anymore, and I began to see tears in her eyes, I took pity on the girl. I told the baron she wasn’t well, and that I’d escort her to her room. He simply waved us away without even pausing in his negotiations with the old man.” Fitz’s face took on a dark look.
“I settled Agatha in her chambers, put a sleep spell on her to ease her mind, and a magic seal on her door as I left. My rooms were down the hall, and having no desire to spend more time with the baron, I retired myself.”
“An hour later, I remembered that I’d not asked the baron about the king’s tax money. So I rose from my bed and headed back to the great hall. There was no sign of the baron or the old lord. I cast a seeking spell, and followed it to one of the two towers in the keep. As I approached the top, I felt foul magic in the air. I recognized it of course. Necromancy!” Alexander didn’t think it possible, but Fitz’s face looked even angrier.
“I rushed to the top of the tower and destroyed the door. Inside I found the baron standing over the old lord, who was laid out on a dark altar, a knife in his gut. I rushed to the old man, thinking to heal him. As I did, the baron fled down the stairs. I cast my strongest heal on the old lord, but his soul had already been devoured by whatever dark god had corrupted the baron. I removed the cursed dagger, then removed the old man’s head so that he could not be raised as an undead. Then I went after the baron.”
Fitz was on his feet now, pacing. One of Millicent's daughters came outside with more treats, but upon seeing Fitz, she fled back into the shop.
“That was my mistake,” Fitz growled. “I should have killed the baron as soon as I entered the room. While I was dealing with the old man, the baron fled down the tower. He had time to call up a small army of undead he’d been making of his own people! Guards, crafters, miners, servants. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs myself, he had gathered dozens of them to him. He shouted for them to kill me, and fled down the hall. Being who I am, they were no match for me. In my anger, I did not even try to spare them. I burned some to ash, collapsed walls on others
. Destroyed them all as I moved down the hall, room to room, burning everything, shouting for the baron to show himself. There is NOTHING I despise more than necromancers! I was in a blind rage.”
Fitz sat back down, as if suddenly defeated. “Had I stopped to think, I would have run straight to Agatha. I was, after all, charged to protect her. But in my anger, all I could think of was to destroy the baron and his keep, to make sure no trace of his foul magic remained. Just as I was reaching the great hall, I felt the magic of the seal that I had placed on Agatha’s door break. As I rushed to her room, I heard her scream. Rage was replaced with the cold clarity that I had failed her. I instantly teleported to her room, to find the baron standing over her, dagger in hand, chanting a spell. Without thinking, I hit him with a blast of pure mana that knocked him through several walls, blowing out a large section of the building. I grabbed Agatha and carried her out through the holes in the walls. I had to set her down in order to destroy more of the undead who came at us. By then, my mana was too low for a teleport. She followed me to the stables, where we took two horses and fled.”
The Greystone Chronicles: Book One: Io Online Page 42
