Hammerhold Tales: Thrallborn

by Logan Petty

  “Oh, its you. Find something on your patrol? Where’s Syd?”

  Axel dropped the sack of silverware at the foot of the door. The clanking noise changed the elf’s countenance.

  “Good evening to you too, Reisim. Syd’s on an escort mission and should be back some time tomorrow. Don’t worry, your brother’s fine.”

  The elf kicked open the sack at the door as he stood up so that he could see its contents. A pleased, yet greedy smile replaced his scowl.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Is all this for the treasury?”

  “Not all of it,” Axel replied. “I need you to sell it and turn it into gold. We need to split the findings, and then part of it will go to the treasury.”

  Reisim nodded, analyzing the sacks and crates as they piled up at the door: Two sacks and three small crates full of silverware, swords, daggers, books, and other valuables.

  “You’re not forgetting my fee, are you, Rimebeard?”

  Axel snorted, “Aye, you’ll get yer cut as well, as is our arrangement. Speaking of arrangements, how is your arm?”

  Reisim’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared.

  “It’s fine.”

  Axel nodded sagely, “That’s good, because you haven’t come to see me about it in nearly a year. You know that can cause problems.”

  “I’m fine,” Reisim said with venom in his voice. “Just put your spoils away and get going. I have better things to do than chit-chat with a bunch of roughnecks.”

  Axel half-chuckled, “Right you are. Sawain, I want you to put this loot in the room behind that door. Reisim will let you in. After you are done, come upstairs and I’ll get you settled into your new room.”

  Sawain watched helplessly as the trio of heroes left him alone with the strange elf. He decided not to complain and picked up the two sacks of silverware first. He glanced uneasily at Reisim.

  “Lead the way… sir.”

  Reisim stood still, studying Sawain. “You must be new blood. Hmm, has Axel already gone through his last shieldling? I was beginning to like him too. Ah well, we can’t all be heroes. “

  “Who was Axel’s last shieldling?” Sawain asked, feeling rather uncomfortable about standing around talking to this elf about dead shieldlings.

  Reisim allowed a crooked grin and a sideways glance as he turned to unlock the door to the treasury.

  “That’s not really my place to say. Oh, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just mind your manners and don’t do anything too stupid. Here you are, shieldling. Get to work.”

  The elf pushed the door open, revealing a square room roughly fifteen square feet in size. The walls were adorned with weapons of all sorts: Swords, daggers, bows, hammers, axes, even a strange weapon with three curved blades spiraling out from a circular grip in the center. Chests lined the walls, most of them locked with a padlock. A few gems sat on a table in the middle of the room. A large book was also set upon the table. Sawain dropped the sacks in front of the table and went back for the rest.

  After his work was done, Reisim closed and locked the treasury door behind him. “Get going, boy. Don’t want to keep your new master waiting.”

  Sawain’s blood boiled at the elf’s sharp words. He was heading back upstairs, but spun around on his heels. Anger took over as Sawain stared Reisim down. He raised a finger threateningly, pointing at the elf.

  “I have no master. I am a free man.”

  Reisim let out a soft laugh. “You are not a free man, shieldling. You are not even a man by any standard. You are still wet behind your ears. Speaking of ears, what is wrong with yours? Looks like you’ll never be a man. Not completely.”

  Sawain’s rage took over. All thoughts drained from his mind except one: Punish Reisim. He rushed forward and his fist flew at the elf’s face. He was stunned when the elf grabbed his wrist with lightning reflexes. Before he could recover, Reisim slammed Sawain’s arm down onto the desk, pinning him. Sawain tried to feebly swing with his left hand, but his angle was awkward and searing pain shot through his body as the elf’s grip tightened more and more on his wrist. He began screaming, half in pain and half in rage.

  Reisim grinned cruelly as he avoided Sawain’s flailing. “Keep fighting, boy. I can crush your wrist into powder. Quite the temper you’ve got there. Maybe there’s hope for you yet, if you can learn how to channel that rage.”

  “Let him go, Reisim.”

  Axel’s voice boomed from the door of the stairwell. Reisim snorted, not giving Axel a glance.

  “The boy threw the first blow. I was simply defending myself.”

  “Aye, I’m sure ye did nothing to instigate it, either. Sawain, upstairs now.”

  Sawain shot the elf a vengeful glare, then turned and stormed out, back to the upper floor. Axel turned to follow him when he heard Reisim snap at him.

  “Better keep a leash on that new pet of yours, tinkerer. I’d hate to see you lose another one so soon.”

  Axel did not give him the pleasure of a reaction, but kept climbing the stairs without any further acknowledgment of the bitter elf. Sawain sat at the table, nursing his sore wrist and his sore ego. Axel sauntered up and sat in a chair beside him. He placed his elbows on the table and stared at his large, gnarled hands.

  “Don’t let him get to ya, laddie, he tests everyone’s temper. I can’t have ya throwing punches at company veterans, or anyone tied to us for that matter. Yer bed’s at the top of the stairs, farthest room on the left. I know it’s early, but ye’ve had a rough couple of days. Go get some sleep. I don’t know what he said to make ye so mad, but I want ye to hold onto it and think over it tonight. Yer training begins tomorrow, so be ready to work.”

  With that, Axel rose from the table and headed out the front door.. Sawain sat there silently for several more minutes, brooding over the racist remark that dug into his very soul. He would prove his worth to everyone. He had to. After several more minutes, fatigue caught up with him, so he gave in and dragged himself upstairs.

  He found his room easily enough and was disillusioned yet again as he peered around the nearly bare room. Worn green carpet adorned the floor. A single dirty window set in the wall opposite of the door let some light in from outside. A metal bed with a single mattress on it was arranged against the right wall.

  He walked in and sat down on the bed, taking his bloodied shoes off and stared mournfully at his battered feet. He could feel the straws of hay jabbing at him from inside his mattress and sighed, disappointed. He lay down on the bed, and despite his anger and fear, he quickly drifted to sleep as one thought played on his mind.

  Tomorrow would be the beginning of his new life.

  Chapter Five

  Sawain opened his eyes to the cold room he had fallen asleep in. It was not fully daylight yet. Everything was dim and colorless. He pulled himself out of bed and went to the door. It was icy to the touch. He pulled it open. The sickly smell of blood greeted him. A trail of carnage stretched from the Hall Table, up the stairs, to his feet. His new friends were strewn about, limbs missing, gaping wounds pouring blood. The floor and walls were spattered. A voice cruel as death muttered in his ear.

  “You slept in.”

  He quickly turned and was staring into the cruel yellow eyes of the gnoll Alpha who escaped the battle. A wicked grin spread across Hilmr’s scarred face, revealing rows of bloodstained fangs. He lunged at Sawain to bite out his throat.

  Sawain awoke screaming. Kyra jumped backwards in alarm, stumbling back into the hallway from whence she came. Sawain sat up like a bolt, still looking for the gnoll. Kyra peeked back into the room sheepishly, looking very concerned.

  “I’m sorry, I should have knocked. Are you alright?”

  Sawain stared at the wall in front of him, feeling both terrified and embarrassed. Once the panic in his chest subsided and he came to grips that what he saw was just a dream, he looked at Kyra, who was still peering at him from behind the door post. He sighed and ran his fingers through his dirty hair subconsciously.

 
“I’m fine. It was just a bad dream. What time is it?”

  Kyra grinned and edged back into the room with her hands held behind her back. Sawain could clearly see a large wooden container sticking out from either side of her slender body.

  “It’s training time.”

  She produced a bucket and a horse hair brush from behind her back and placed them on the floor at the side of Sawain’s bed. Sawain’s heart sank. Training looked too similar to his chores as a thrall.

  “What kind of training is this? Am I supposed to wear the bucket? Is this one of those ‘you’ll thank me later’ exercises or is Axel trying to get out of his chores?”

  Kyra laughed hard, finding this crack much funnier than Sawain had expected. She let out a loud chortle and grabbed her mouth, looking horrified. She quickly turned away from Sawain as a smile spread on his face. She hurried out of the room and stopped at the door hesitantly.

  “Axel wants you to scrub the back yard down.” She said quickly before leaving the room.

  Sawain frowned, feeling ashamed. He had smiled because he found Kyra’s manners attractive. He had a bad feeling that he did something wrong in her eyes. He groaned to himself as he bent down to pick up the bucket and brush. All the night’s rest had done for him was make him even more sore. Now his muscles burned underneath his cuts and bruises. He slipped his boots back on and headed to the door, When he opened it, his path was blocked by a very stout dwarf whose icy blue beard was unbraided and a mess. Axel squinted at Sawain for a moment before speaking.

  “Yer a mess, boy. Come with me.”

  Axel turned and headed down the stairwell. Sawain wordlessly followed his mentor. The headed out the back door, through the kitchen and into the back yard. Upon seeing the back yard, Sawain understood why he had to scrub it down. Fifteen foot wooden fences enclosed the entire yard, keeping prying eyes out. The yard itself was completely level and was made of a single massive stone surface. There were training dummies and targets set up along the edges of the yard. In the middle, a black circle was painted onto the rock. Axel glanced back and noticed Sawain’s slack jaw. He stuck his chest out proudly as he spoke in a boisterous, slightly drunk voice.

  “Like the training yard, laddie? I made it meself. Leveled the entire yard, fenced it, laid the Moldstone meself. Moldstone is a special invention of mine made of different rocks and alchemical components mixed with water. Once the stuff dries, it’s harder than a regular rock, plus you can pour it into any mold and have it permanently set that way.”

  Sawain examined it closer and noticed that it was covered in blood stains and dirt.

  “Looks like it’s been put to good use.”

  Axel nodded, a huge grin on his face. “Aye, we’re out here every day if we aren’t on a mission. But enough of that for now. Before ye clean it up, we need to clean ye up. Leave the bucket at the door.”

  Axel led Sawain to another wooden building at the far end of the yard. The dwarf pushed open the door and Sawain strained to see inside. A small sunroof let some light into the single dark paved room. There was a wooden tub full of water. Sawain could see Kyra standing beside the tub. She had a brush in one hand and a white towel slung across her left shoulder. Sawain dropped his bucket and took a few steps back. Before he could turn and run, something hit him hard in the back of the knees and swept him off his feet. Two strong arms grabbed him as he fell backwards. Before he knew what was going on, he was being rushed into the bath house. He looked down at his feet and saw the back of a small, curly brown haired head between his ankles. He could not see his other captor, but he smelled like a pine forest.

  The two stood him back upright, both keeping a firm grip on him. Sawain tried to resist, but soon came face to face with Kyra. He could clearly tell that she was annoyed. He smiled half-heartedly.

  “Hi.”

  She tossed the towel from her shoulder over his face and walked past him. He felt like she might as easily could walk through him.

  “Have fun,” She said to Axel as she handed him the brush and walked out, closing the door tight behind her. Sawain shook off the towel as he felt himself being turned around. He was now facing Axel Rimebeard, whose sadistic grin made his blood run cold.

  “Rylie, get the soap. Syd can hold him.”

  He felt Rylie’s grip break loose and Syd’s tighten. He was completely uncomfortable for multiple reasons.

  “There’s no need to hold me down. I’ve taken baths before. You think because I’m a thrallborn I’ve never been clean a day in my life?” Sawain complained.

  “Not like this, laddie.” Axel said in a low, foreboding tone. “Hook up the machine, Rylie.”

  “Machine?” There was fear in Sawain’s voice.

  From behind him, he could hear metal being dragged across stone in concert with Rylie’s grunts of effort to do so. There was a cranking sound and what sounded like sand being poured into a container. Next, a gurgling and churning of water. After a few more seconds. Rylie’s voice piped up.

  “It’s ready! Strip the prisoner!”

  This made Sawain’s blood run cold. So many insecurities piled upon him that he would not have been able to move even if Syd did not have him in a vice grip. Axel stepped forward and produced a knife. Sawain found his voice again.

  “Wait a minute guys, what are you doing? Why can’t you just let me—”

  With a single deft movement, Axel slashed Sawain’s tunic, completely severing it from top to bottom. There was more tussling and struggling as Sawain closed his eyes tight, ashamed of being stripped naked. Soon he was completely disrobed, his tattered clothes lying on a heap in the floor. Axel made a twirling gesture with his knife.

  “Turn him around Syd. Both of ye might want to close yer eyes. Don’t want this stuff getting in them.”

  Syd obeyed Axel wordlessly and turned his captive around to face Rylie. Rylie was standing beside a strange machine with a large cube-like base. A hose ran from it to the tub of water. Another hose ran from the machine to Rylie’s right hand. A brass nozzle pointed at Sawain. Rylie’s left hand pumped a handle on top of the machine. Sawain stared warily at the machine.

  “W-what is that thing?” He asked.

  Rylie grinned as he twisted the nozzle. “Nothing nice.”

  A jet of foamy water shot forth from the nozzle and truck Sawain in the chest. The pressure was fairly intense, but what knocked the breath out of Sawain was the icy chill in the water coupled with the intense stinging of the foam. As soon as it hit, a frigid wave crashed over him followed quickly by a blaze of hellfire. He screamed in agonized pain as the stream of foam water moved from place to place on his body, filling the gashes and lacerations with the terrible foam. Sawain was in tears as he was flipped around and the process repeated. The foam punched into his back, washing out rocks and dirt that were still embedded in his skin. Instead of relief, he felt the acidic sting of the foam water rip his wounds open afresh.

  He screamed like a wild animal, forgetting how to use words as Axel approached him. Sawain tensed up as the harsh brush scrubbed his flesh, peeling and rending it from his back. The process was repeated on his front side. He gnashed and slavered as Axel scrubbed every part of his body. He snapped at the dwarf, only wanting to kill him, bite into his throat, spill his blood. This made it particularly hard for Axel to scrub his hair and face, though he managed with help from Syd. Pure rage filled his lungs as he screamed at Axel, finally finding some of the baser words in his vocabulary. After what felt like an eternity, Axel backed away from Sawain, holding the bloodied brush aloft. He studied Sawain like a sculptor would study his masterpiece. After a moment, he nodded in satisfaction.

  “Okay, Rylie, Rinse him off.”

  Rylie switched his hose to another feed, secured it, then charged the pump.

  “This is going to be cold, but it’ll feel better after I’m done.”

  With that, another jet of Ice water hit Sawain with great force. The water was cold only for a moment, but soon went numb. Sawain’s b
lood curdling screams lost their fervor as well. Once Rylie’s work was done, Sawain did feel much better, though he was still furious. He growled angrily at Syd.

  “Let me go, I’ll kill you all.”

  “What for?” Syd’s voice cooed gently in his ear, like the voice of a father reassuring his child, “For making you smell and feel better?”

  Syd’s grip broke and Sawain fell to the ground, having used up a lot of his energy fighting against the much stronger elf. When he got to his feet, he instinctively swung out at Syd, who gracefully dodged it.

  “Hey, cool off!” Rylie exclaimed, looking quite proud of his pun as he loosed another jet of ice water at Sawain. It struck him on the shoulder, spinning him around and to the left, just in time to see Axel get a face full of cold water. He tensed up and choked as the jet filled his mouth and nostrils. Rylie quickly shut the nozzle off, looking mortified. Axel bent over double coughing and sputtering and cursing.

  “Rylie— Ye half witted— short legged— Root-gnawing—”

  Syd laughed merrily at Axel’s misfortune, himself already being soaked to the bone due to having to hold Sawain. Sawain’s spirits were instantly lifted and he began to forget his rage. He put his hands tenderly on his thighs to catch his breath and realized they didn’t hurt. In fact, he expected to be in a world of pain, but he ran his hands over his body and could not find the slightest scratch. He was shocked.

  “What did you do?”

  Axel grinned as he regained his composure.

  “That soap is special Dawnstar brew. Most potent herbs and lye mixed with one of Housemother’s healing potions. Kyra added some extra kick with some of her magic. Though I must say, she must have used some extra blood judging by the way ye flailed about. Shouldn’t have hurt that much. It’s like she’s got something against ye,” He added with a wink.