I see the sky of Throal. Outside the tunnels in the open. Just like the Stories. I feel the wind in my horns and there is no going back. No more caves over my head, no more bumping around Dwarf-homes. Open sky, just like Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandsire Armgir The Reckless travels to battle across in his Drakkar. I am done waiting, they call me Vlolkir The Restless, tell me the outside is full of horrors and inside the walls is all that is safe. They confuse me, this is why I leave. Safe feels like falling asleep forever. I want to be awake, I want to taste battle, hear my heartbeat thunder in the valley, carve my life into the stones of the Earth.
But there is no silver. Brother and Sister work with Dwarfs, work in shops, lift large goods and help out. There is no waiting for me. I hear someone in tavern say a weaponsmith looks for armed guard. A weaponsmith finds battle and glory outside the walls, and pays too for fighters. I take old family shield and club, and join two small Elfs at the gate. I am leaving. Will return with silver and tales.
We are walking. We are walking days from Throal, just walking. But the sky is high, no more Dwarf ceilings to scrape my horns on, and the grass is good, and the trees are good, and the fires and the stars at night are good. We go to Wyrm Wood, to get plants. First is river to cross, wide river, wide as a great hall in kaer of Throal. People live on river, make me show them woodcarving to prove my spirit is bright with no taint. Mother shows me how to carve well, and I show them how I carve well, and they are happy. We cross on small boat from swamp islands, leave behind river, leave behind towns. We walk alone in place none have been. The map is empty. My spirit burns with joy. We take a new world and sing a new song with each step further.
Forest close now, big trees, lots of trees. Not the trees of Wyrm Wood, Jubal says. We walk in and I remember stories of attacks, Namegivers hiding to attack all at once in forests. I walk quietly like we do playing games in kaer as little ones. Walk so quietly, outlaw Menfolk step from trees and say give us silver! But Menfolk do not notice me. One strikes He-Elf Aegharan, I run from trees and show them how Trollkind strikes a blow. Jubal fights an outlaw and I help him. The Elfs use magic of the threads, send strong spells against the Menfolk, I am surprised how hard magic strikes. She-Elf Nista wears great armor, like the heroes. Menfolk run, we move on to Wyrm Wood and stupid birds claw at my eyes. Birds do not like being smashed with a club, but it is easy.
We pick plants for Jubal, we rest around fire. I hear something in the trees. Trees come out and fight us! I fight how we Raiders do, and the trees hurt me worse. Logs can burn, so I use a torch to fight walking tree men. They burn too, this is a good thing to know. Two dead, a good victory, they fight hard. Jubal and the Elfs pick more plants. Our wounds heal around the fire. Then, three more tree men come to fight! I hear them stomp easy, we hide in trees like Menfolk and wait to strike. Tree men go for Jubal, I attack, can't lose silver for this walk. The tree men circle me and the He-Elf. We stand together, and fight hard. The She-Elf Nista runs fast, goes far away and weaves strong magic. Tree men burn and die. Three this time, a good victory!
A strange Elf comes and tells us the Wyrm Wood is bloody. Tells us all real Elfs are bloody. Says we can leave but must leave and will only let us take some plants if we tell Throal how great bloody Elfs are. Great Great Great Great Grandsire Omgak says Elfs always say Elfs are bloody great, he is right.
Jubal gives us silvers for keeping him alive, he forges my family's club. I feel strong, awake, I have overcome strong foes. This is a fine day.
Pethrytholilanista, Elf Nethermancer
Aegharan, Elf Illusionist
Vlolkir, Troll Skyraider
Jubal Nusserman, Weaponsmith and dealer in fine things
Post your characters here
1 post • Page 1 of 1