The Game of Fates (20 page)

The
Great Hall that morning was alive with activity and conversation.  The
excitement among the Krall Gen warriors was almost palpable, as almost the
entire house guard was deploying to protect their lord and help him prosecute
total war against this great ant colony.  Despite the early hour, everywhere
spirits were high.  The Krall Gen warriors were so confident that it almost
sounded to the outside observer like they’d already won. 

Seated
in the far corner of the Great Hall, the members of Durik’s Company were more
subdued.  They’d struck perhaps the first blows in this war, and it was their
report that had launched this war.  But this war had now gone beyond them. 
Their quest was different, the promise of action not so immediate, and a good
night’s rest not so recent a memory.

There
is a saying among warriors, that food substitutes for sleep.  Manebrow made
sure to re-emphasize that advice with the sleep-deprived members of the
company.  With no sleep in the recent past, the company needed very little
encouragement.  The fact that they knew this would be their last cooked meal
for some time also encouraged their appetites.  Trail rations were not the best
fare to look forward to and all of them wanted to eat their fill of the sweet
meats and cooked roots that Lord Krall’s providence had provided them before
leaving.

Not
long after the company sat down to eat, Kiria’s two younger brothers, Karto and
Lat, both came from the inner chambers, escorted by Lord Krall’s lifemate
Karaba.  It was obvious to all that they had just gotten out of bed, as they
were still wiping their eyes and yawning as ‘Aba’ urged them along.  She didn’t
have to urge them for long, however.  When the two young whelps saw the company
of warriors dressed in shining metal armor, they shouted with glee.  Running up
to Gorgon, they both stopped and looked at their reflection in his left bracer.

“Wooooow,”
they both said, almost in unison.  Gorgon looked down at the pair as they stood
examining his armor.  When they finally noticed he was looking at them, Gorgon
growled at them.  Their squeals broke the early morning calm as they ran around
the table to their ‘protector.’  Kiria gave Gorgon a stern look.  Gorgon
ignored it and went back to eating the shank of boar meat he had in his hand.

Though
they had initially decided to make armor for the entire company, Kiria,
Myaliae, and Kabbak had all tried on the first suit of armor and had decided
that it was too heavy for them.  For these three, Jerrig had instead designed a
heavier suit of leather, with a breastplate made of multiple layers that were
shaped and boiled in oil to harden them.  They had made helmets, arm guards,
shin guards, large metal bands to go around their waists, and shoulder guards
for them anyway, just like the rest of the company.  Though they were heavy,
Manebrow had insisted that they wear them.  ‘You’ll get used to it’ was all
he’d say when they complained.  None of the three liked the armor much, but
they did see the utility in having something thicker than their own scales
between their bodies and whatever they might encounter next.

At
this early hour of the morning, as Lady Karaba sat admiring Kiria’s new outfit
and talking with Kiria about what lay ahead, Karto and Lat had already found
their own use for Kiria’s helmet.  After initially trying it on both of their
heads, Karto immediately grabbed the helmet and, throwing it on his little
head, ran over to Gorgon, the helmet bouncing up and down on his head as he went. 
Stopping, he peered over Gorgon’s arm.  The look on his face was unmistakable. 
It was playtime.

Holding
up his hands like claws, Karto growled back at Gorgon when the hardened warrior
finally looked his way.  Grabbing the young kobold around the waist, Gorgon
picked him up and Kiria’s helmet went clattering across the floor.  He then
proceeded to tickle Karto until the front of his loin cloth began to turn
yellow.  Gorgon then quickly let him go and nudged him toward his sister.

Kiria
was none too happy about what Gorgon had done, and was quick to show her
displeasure.  Karto was sent back to the inner chambers to change into a clean
loincloth and, though Gorgon got several frowns, the rest of first meal was
much quieter.

Just
as Karto left to change, Krebbekar, Gormanor, and Lemmekor all arrived through
the front door.  At first they didn’t recognize the members of Durik’s Company,
but after they got past the initial impression the scale armor had elicited
from almost all who had seen it, they noticed that the kobolds wearing it were
none other than the kobolds they would be traveling with on this quest. 
Approaching the table where the company was seated, Krebbekar stopped next to
Durik, surveying the gleaming group of metal clad warriors.

“Good
morning to you, Krebbekar,” Durik said, breaking the spell.

“Ah,
yes.  Good morning to you also, Durik,” Krebbekar replied.  “My, you certainly
accomplished a lot in the last three days.”

Durik
nodded, “We have been hard at work.  Come, will you sit with us?”

“That
you have been,” Krebbekar motioned for Gormanor and Lemmekor to sit down as the
Kale Gen warriors made room for them.  Seating himself next to Durik and across
the end of the table from Manebrow, Krebbekar was still staring at the armor
the company was wearing when a servant approached the three newcomers with a
steaming platter of meat and vegetables.  Though their appetite this early in
the morning was light, the three Krall Gen warriors dug in with the same fervor
as their Kale Gen counterparts.

After
a few moments, Keryak approached from the end of the table.  He held a bag in
his hand and, leaning down, he whispered in Durik’s ear as he placed it next to
Durik’s seat.

“Thank
you again, Keryak,” Durik said as Keryak walked away.

“While
we were making things last night,” Durik said as he bent over an opened the
sack, “we figured out how to make…” he pulled four concave steel pieces with
straps attached to them out of the bag and placed them on the table “…
helmets.”  Durik stood up and handed one to each of the three warriors.  “Here,
these are yours.  I do hope they fit.  Consider them a small thanks for the
hospitality your lord has extended to us.  Oh, and this fourth one is for
Morigar.”

As
if on cue, Morigar chose that moment to appear through the door to the council
chambers.  He looked resplendent in his well-oiled armor, with a sheathed long
sword hanging over his back and a hunting bow in one hand.  As he entered, the
look on his face was one of pride.  He walked like he’d been given command of a
great host and was about to ride off at its head.  Taking his seat at the head
table, he surveyed the hall as servants brought him plates and cups.

“Our
thanks,” Krebbekar said as he put his horns through the holes made for them and
seated the helmet on his head, buckling the strap under his chin.  “Well, it
fits surprisingly well.  My compliments to your smithing skill.”  Krebbekar
turned and walked toward Morigar.

Though
he’d entered with an attitude of arrogance, Morigar had quickly taken notice of
the members of Durik’s Company and his feeling of dominance immediately began
to slide.  He looked from his hardened leather armor with its few iron guards
to their entire suits of scale mail armor and a look of jealousy immediately
showed on his face.

“Sire,
Durik sends this helmet, with his complements,” Krebbekar stated in an even
tone.

Morigar
snatched it away from him grudgingly.  “My thanks,” he said as he
contemptuously lifted a goblet to Durik’s health.

Durik
returned the gesture, though sincerely, and the rest of the meal passed quickly
and in peace.  As the company gathered their equipment and stood to go, Lord
Krall entered the Great Hall from the rear entrance, his sword still unsheathed
and in his hand.  Everyone in the great hall stood as the door guard announced
his arrival and the company turned to face him.

Lord
Krall stopped when he noticed the metal-clad warriors of Durik’s Company. 
“Well, so that’s what you were making, all cloistered in that smithy!  Metal
armor… and fine, strong, thin steel from the looks of it.  I’m glad I got a
chance to see it before you depart.”

Durik
stepped forward.  “Lord Krall, we much appreciate your hospitality.  By your
orders, my lord, we will depart the gen shortly… as soon as we load up our
dogs.”

Lord
Krall nodded and walked across the raised dais to his chair.  Laying his sword
on the table, he sat down.  “So be it!  I wish you well on your journey.”

“As
we also wish you well in your battle against the great ants,” Durik returned,
bowing his helmeted head slightly. 

Morigar
was beginning to stand up and it was obvious that the time for father and son
to say goodbye had come.  “Move out,” Manebrow said and all in the company
turned as one toward the exit except for Kiria, who was obviously heading
toward her brothers.

“A
quick goodbye only,” she said as she passed Durik, who only nodded.

Krebbekar
approached Durik, “Don’t wait for us, Durik,” he said.  “We’ve acquired another
packdog which I still need to fetch.  We’ll have to meet you on the trail to
the Chop.”

Durik
looked at him with tired eyes.  “No hurry.  My company has been up all night
finishing this armor.  We’re going to take most of the morning, and perhaps
part of the afternoon, to get some sleep.  We’ll be stopping just outside the
borders of your land.  We’ll have a picket near the road to the Chop, however,
watching for your approach.”

Krebbekar
nodded his understanding and the two leaders parted ways.

The
pre-dawn darkness had already begun to recede as the light of the still hidden
sun approached over the eastern mountain.  The light, mixed with the early
morning mists, gave an ethereal glow to the air as the members of Durik’s
Company finished saddling their wolves and securing the loads on their retinue
of pack dogs.

“This
armor is heavy,” Tohr muttered to his brother Kahn as they teamed up to lift
the last pack saddle onto the last packdog.

“That
it is!  I doubt we’ll be traveling quite as far or as fast as before with all
this steel on us,” Kahn replied.

Ardan
overheard the conversation as he walked up with a bag of small tools and repair
pieces from inside the caravan drivers’ quarters to load on the packdog.  “Aye,
but you’ll be glad you have it the next time we meet orcs.”

Keryak,
coming up from behind with one of the climbing kits, joined in.  “Just think,
tonight we’ll be at the Chop,” he said, referring to the rather steep mountain
that stood between the southern gens and the northern valleys where the Hall of
the Mountain King lay.  “That should be a real joy.”

“Ah,
you’re all needing to put a bit more muscle on your bones anyway.”  Gorgon said
as he loaded the last bag of rations from inside the quarters onto a packdog. 
“Think of this as a great opportunity to build up your leg and shoulder
muscles!”

“Always
the optimist, I see,” Keryak said as he rolled his eyes.  “Hey, I’ve got a
great muscle-building idea; you could carry me up the Chop.”

Gorgon
didn’t respond as he walked back toward the rear of the company to join the
rest of his team.  In a few moments, the last packdog was loaded and Terrim
gave the thumbs-up to Manebrow, indicating that the dogs were ready.

At
that moment Lady Karaba appeared next to Durik.  She was dressed in a simple
dark woolen robe that kept her hidden until she was upon the company, and her
arrival startled Durik.

“Young
leader, I must talk with you for a moment,” she said quietly, the intensity in
her voice conveying a sense of urgency.

“But
of course,” Durik said and allowed himself to be led a short distance into the
wood line.

Stopping
out of easy earshot of the company, Lady Karaba turned and spoke to him in
hushed tones.  “Young Durik, I have several pieces of news for you.”