As
orcs batted at the swarm of flying rodents, Trallik turned quickly and thrust
himself into the hole, crawling as quickly as he could back down the crawlway
toward the elf. He was not alone, however. Tens of bats swarmed between his
arms and legs, and many more screeched madly as they bumped into his
hindquarters, legs and tail.
Though
battered and terrified, Trallik’s scales kept him unmarked and, after a short
time, Trallik finally crawled out into the small mid-passage chamber and pulled
himself off to the side, breathing heavily. His heart was racing, his emotions
screamed at him to attempt to flee in absolute panic, and his loincloth was no
longer dry. Trallik had gotten himself into quite a mess.
It
was at that precise moment, as Trallik sat trying to calm down and think, that
he saw a glint from the pile of bat guano. Impulsively, he grabbed a rag from
his large belt pouch and used it to pull a fist-sized clear rock out of the
pile of droppings. Wiping it off as carefully as he could with bats still
flying about him in confusion, Trallik wrapped the guano-smeared ball without
touching it and stuffed it into his pouch before sitting back against the wall.
A
s dawn cast its light upon the
still blue waters of Lord Krall’s Lake in the heart of the Krall Gen, Ardan was
getting anxious. It had been the better part of two days that the company had
been at the gen and he’d not yet seen his love Miratha. He’d not had a chance
to get away yet, now that he was in charge of a team, and he’d not seen her at
the Hall of Commerce yesterday during Manebrow’s planning meeting. He’d not
been able to get a good view of her home on the other side of the lake, as Lord
Krall’s great hall mostly obscured it. But he had seen smoke coming from her
chimney last evening beckoning him with the thoughts of a fireside, food, and
her.
Manebrow
had given him permission to search for her at the Hall of Commerce instead of
go to first meal after drills. He’d also been told to come right back as they
were to start the process of making armor for the company today.
Now,
as the morning passed ever so slowly with the slow rhythm of the weapons
drills, Ardan could hardly stand it. When the drills finally did end and the
rest of the warriors were released to go to first meal, Ardan almost ran to the
Hall of Commerce. Stepping inside he could see that the business of the
morning had not yet fully commenced. The great floor was still being swept
clean from the proceedings of the previous day and the various shopkeepers were
mostly in their booths conducting inventory and setting out their wares for the
day.
Ardan
stood near the door and looked around. The last time he’d been here, only a
score of days before, Miratha had been working for one of the traders on the
floor, finding sellers who were willing to accept the terms that her buyers
were willing to offer, all this to fill the buyers’ orders that her master had
accepted. She had not started as an order-filler, however. She had been a
clerk, supply coordinator, and various other positions which had given her
quite a good knowledge of the inner workings of the Krall Gen’s commercial structure.
Because of this, her services had always been in high demand and she changed
jobs when given a better offer for the month. Ardan was never sure where to
find her during the day.
Wandering
around the edges of the great floor for a time, Ardan eventually caught sight
of a new pair of booths off in the far corner of the hall. Unlike the other
booths, these booths had no wares displayed, only parchments posted on the
counter and outer walls. As he came closer, he noticed they were individual
orders that this trading group was working to fill. Coming up to the counter,
he saw a young male kobold, a yearling’s age at best, sitting on a stool behind
a desk copying one parchment’s contents onto another.
Ardan
cleared his voice. The young kobold, startled out of his task, looked up at
Ardan and blinked. “May I help you, stranger?” the clerk asked.
“I’m
looking for Miratha. She works for one of the traders in this hall, but I’m
not sure where to get a hold of her at this early hour. I usually find her out
on the floor making tra…” Ardan’s explanation was cut off in mid-sentence as
the curtain over the doorway in the back of the booth parted.
“Ardan!”
a very female voice said. “Oh Ardan, it
is
you!” With that a shapely,
confident looking female kobold about Ardan’s age rushed out the side door and
came around the front of the booth.
“Hi,
Miratha, it’s so goo…” Ardan started, but was interrupted by a sudden embrace
which knocked him back a step.
After
a moment of snuggling up to him and holding him close, Miratha looked up at
him. “Whatever are you doing here? I’d not heard of a caravan coming in from
the Kale Gen, just a warrior group.” She paused, then before Ardan could
continue she cut back in. “Wait, are you…?” she rubbed her hands over the mark
on his chest. “No, still a warrior.” She looked up into his eyes, “You’re not
with this warrior group are you?”
“I
am, Miratha,” he said.
“Oh,
my,” she said as she let him go. “I heard they’re going north on some
dangerous mission. Something about a dragon and orcs, or something like that.
Oh, tell me it isn’t true, is it?”
Ardan
looked her in the eyes, “I’ve been given my own team, Miratha. I’m in charge
of three other warriors now.”
Miratha
stepped forward again and held him close. “Hmm,” she purred, alluringly, “So
does this big change mean you’re ready for more changes?”
It
was obvious to Ardan what she meant, as they’d talked about possibly becoming
lifemates before. Taking her by the shoulders, Ardan gathered his thoughts.
Certainly, Miratha was able to change subjects much quicker than he was able to
keep up, and the immediate smell of her was making it hard to think. “We’ll
talk about that some more. For now I’ve come to tell you that it looks like my
company will be here for the next three days at least, if not a day or so
more.”
Miratha,
whose face had darkened when Ardan put off her question, now brightened. “Will
you have much time to come and see me? Oh, I’ve got this wonderful new soft
sheepskin rug in my house.” Tracing the lines of the warrior mark on his
chest, she looked at him coyly. “We could snuggle on it tonight in front of a
fire.”
“Oh,
Miratha, you are certainly tempting. I wish I could, but I don’t know. I do
know that, for the next three days, our company is going to be forging armor,
and I’m one of two warriors in our group that has metalworking experience.”
With
pouty lips, Miratha absent-mindedly played with the mark on Ardan’s chest. “So
am I going to see you at all?” she asked, not looking him in the eyes.
Ardan
embraced her. “I will come to you every opportunity I get.” Holding her out
at arm’s length and looking her in the eyes, he continued, “Stop by the forges
when you get done with your trading for the day. I’m sure they’ll at least let
us eat third meal together.”
Miratha
smiled, “I’ll bring you something special for meal every night you’re here.”
Ardan
smiled back, “Just being with you will be special enough for me. Don’t worry
about it.”
“Oh,
but I didn’t tell you. This booth, it’s mine! I’m my own trader now! How do
you like that?” she said.
Ardan
was surprised and amazed. He took another look at the plain wooden structure.
“Wow, that’s great!”
Miratha
spread her hands to take in the whole booth, “It’s not much to start with, only
a booth and one clerk, but I’ve already got a lot of orders from my former
buyers.” Turning to him, she continued, “Life continues, you know. Oh, Ardan,
I’ve missed you so.”
“I’m
happy for you, Miratha, and I’ve missed you to.”
Miratha
looked at Ardan, who was fidgeting. “You look like you have to go,” she said.
“I
do. I have to rejoin the company. Manebrow, he’s the company leader’s second,
he’ll be expecting me. We’re to start the process of making the armor this
morning.”
Miratha
came forward and embraced him one last time then stepped back. “I’ll see you
tonight then,” she said.
“Tonight
it is,” Ardan said as he turned to go. Turning back as if he forgot something,
he said, “And Miratha, I love you.”
Miratha
smiled a broad, energetic smile. “I love you too, warrior leader!”
With
that, Ardan left to rejoin the company, looking back to catch another glimpse
of her before he left the hall. She stood there watching until after he had
left through the large end doors.
As
Ardan walked out of the Hall of Commerce, he heard the sound of metal clanging
on metal in a steady, slow rhythm. Looking off to his left, near the edge of
the lake, he could see a large group of some of the strongest kobold warriors
he’d ever seen, all wearing thick boar-hide armor with iron shoulder guards
fastened to it. They were marching in formation, some two score or more with packs on their backs, as if they were on campaign. Leading them was a large
kobold Ardan recognized as their contingent leader from Lord Krall’s council
two nights before. He looked proud to be marching at the head of so many fine,
strong warriors.
In
one hand each of the warriors carried a pair of javelins. Over their backs
they bore large shields almost as tall as they were, supported by hooks on
their belts and straps over their backs. The clanging noise Ardan had heard,
however, came from long, heavy swords that they each carried in one hand,
lifting and striking them against their shoulder plating as they walked.
These
blades were wicked looking. They were curved forward, with only the inner edge
being sharpened. It was obvious they were designed to take advantage of the
strength of the bearer. These were not fine weapons, but rather heavy chopping
devices meant as much to crush as to cut.
Ardan
was no stranger to the Krall Gen, having guarded many a caravan back and forth
from his gen to this one. But in all his many trips, he’d not seen the Heavy
Guard of the Krall Gen in battle array. Their reputation was not unknown to
him, nor their history. These troops came from the mines, where it was obvious
that heavy labor had sculpted and hardened their muscles. It had done more
than that to them, however. He saw many a broken horn, and many a shortened
tail among the formation. Life in the mines was hard, and it produced some of
the Krall Gen’s hardest warriors.
As
Ardan stood and watched the Heavy Guard, from across the lake came a much
quieter group of kobolds. These were not formed as one group, nor were they so
heavily armored. Rather, coming in five groups of ten with a pair of packdogs
for each group was the Archer Guard contingent, also led by a kobold he
recognized as their contingent leader from Lord Krall’s council two nights
before. They wore no armor, preferring softer flaxen cloth died in earth
tones. Over their backs they each had slung a pair of long quivers bristling
with wide-feathered arrows. In their hands they each carried a bow almost as
tall as they were. On their belts hung long, straight knives.
Seeing
the two warrior contingents approaching, Ardan looked about to see if perhaps
the Border Guard was already assembled. As he passed the caravan drivers’
quarters, he looked off toward the main road into the woods. There stood Lord
Krall with his eldest son. The younger Krall was dressed in the same armor
that he’d seen Morigar wearing the morning before and was carrying a sword,
spear, bow, and arrows. On his arm was a shield with the symbol of his
lineage, a tall tree like those of their forest, and in one hand he held the reins
of what had to be the biggest dog that Ardan had seen in some time. The
massive brute had a wide body and equally wide jaws. His long legs and barrel
chest showed the hours of work that Krall had obviously put into him. Behind
the young heir to the throne stood a small contingent, perhaps ten or so, of
what had to be house guard. They were all similarly equipped and were standing
in two disciplined rows behind Krall, each holding the reins to a dog of
similar heritage, though smaller than Krall’s imposing mount.
Taking
a few more steps, the Border Guard contingent came into Ardan’s full view.
Standing in ordered rows farther down the path, the Border Guards were
obviously ready and awaiting their companion contingents. This group was
equipped much the same as the previous Border Guards Ardan had met. They wore
the mottled brown and green clothing their contingent kept for excursions
outside of the gen’s borders, though most of them had thick leather shirts on
under it. On their sides were swords, over their backs were quivers bristling
with arrows, and in their hands were bows, a shorter version than that of the
Archer Guard.
There
was much pride in this group. Indeed, they looked as though they were ready to
take on an entire orc tribe. Ardan chewed his lips in thought as he walked
quickly toward the bridges on the lake, past the Heavy Guard’s line of march.
He’d seen what these ants could do. He knew their absolute ferocity and their
determination when stirred. Though he’d heard Gorgon talk about how he,
Keryak, and Troka had stood against so many of them, still in his heart he
wondered if these warriors, more used to fighting the much slower and more
cumbersome orcs, could stand against the flood of furious ants that they would
surely face. Nonetheless, he knew that an army of one hundred and sixty some
warriors would definitely have a much better chance than his small company had
had. In his heart, he wished them all the luck they would need, and that the
Fates would smile upon them.
As
he approached the Great Hall, he saw his companions looking out across the lake
at the gathering army. In all of their eyes he saw similar sentiments to those
he was feeling. They had all seen too much of this enemy to think this would
be a completely one-sided battle. Indeed, they suspected some, perhaps even
many, of these warriors would not return. In spite of these ominous feelings,
the warriors of Durik’s Company stood and watched the procession in solemn
silence as the warriors of the Krall Gen gathered, reported, formed for the
march, and then departed. Finally, as the last of them disappeared around a
bend in the road, Ardan followed his companions as they made their way to the
workshops to begin the task of making armor.