Late winter
South South West --> beyond the Borderlands
Borim Redbeard was a young dwarf. He had taken over the management of this trading post only a little less than two years ago. His uncle Galvin, the owner of the Redbeard Company, thought that it would make sense to set up some trading posts along his trade route to store goods and provide food.
Borim was quite content with the life he had built for himself and was in the process of taking inventory of his stock.
As soon as the winter finally left and spring came, the great caravans would again make their way through the mountains towards the north. And with the caravans would come the gold. At the thought of this, the dwarf's face twisted into a broad grin.
"Master Borim, have you made any progress with the inventory, do you still need our help or are the gold stocks back in the vault?"
asked one of the three guards he had specially hired to better protect the trading post. Dworrim was a scarred veteran of many battles, clad in the typical armor of the dwarven race, a heavy chain mail shirt with matching pot helmet. The ever present axe at his belt was well maintained and had a razor sharp edge.
"Baringul and Throarrim are standing guard at the main gate, there's no one around for miles, and when you're done I could run down to the village and get dinner from the Roaring Stag."
Borim nodded, he had indeed already closed the safe and checked the books so far. So he pushed the chair back and stood next to the old mercenary.
Neither of them noticed the dark figure, which silently as death, remained near them. That the curtains did not move only from the wind that streamed in through the slightly open door, or that the shadow behind the chair at the desk was disproportionately long, all this they did not notice.
"Go ahead, Dworrim, but close the door behind you!" said Borim, as he prepared to put the last sheets of parchment on the shelf against the wall.
As the door slammed shut and the room was sparsely lit by the single window and flickering lamps, the dwarf suddenly became acutely aware of every sound and shadow around him: the creaking of the roof, the whistling of the wind, even the clatter of mouse footsteps in the walls. His eyes darted back and forth and his hand involuntarily groped for the heavy dagger at his side. "Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?" he asked himself, still scanning the room around him with glances.
HE had already taken the most favorable attack position and was patiently waiting for the dwarf to bring himself within his reach.
Borim went back behind the desk to close the ledger. His instincts sensed danger, but before he had drawn the dagger even a hand's breadth, long strong hands came to rest on his mouth and a dagger blade, almost gently touched his neck.
Borim felt paralyzed with horror. Never before had he seen someone move so incredibly fast. A short pain on his neck and the warm feeling of blood warned him not to even move.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out part of his attacker. This one was not much taller than the dwarf, maybe 1.65m, but clearly slimmer. It was a man. His eyes were the color of coal. A shadow of beard framed hard but handsome features. Black hair, cut short, and a small crescent-shaped scar on his mouth. Self-possession and control. That was what Bodrim saw in the man's black eyes. And nothing else....nothing...no hatred, no malice...nothing.
"You are Borim Redbeard, the merchant?" a cold voice, devoid of emotion.
Borim nodded, sweat running down his back. Damn it, he was a dwarf! Pulling himself together, he replied, "What do you want? Gold?"
No movement in the man's countenance. "Where is Eremis Gladis?"
The young dwarf was confused, hesitant to answer.
The slender man wasted no time. "I will not wait long, tell me what I want to know, or I will lead you to very great pain."
The pronounced words drive calmly and clearly spoken. Borim knew he would carry out his threat immediately.
"I don't know any Eremis Gladis! Never heard of that name!" he stammered. Yes...he stammered and tears of anger gathered in the corners of his eyes as he realized fear had taken hold of him.
The man's coal-black eyes fixed on Borim, then without any movement he plunged the dagger deep into the dwarf's shoulder.
A low cry of pain escaped his throat, between the fingers of the hand on his mouth.
"Is the memory clearer now, Master Dwarf? My informants have assured me that the dwarf trader Redbeard has a strong connection to Gladis. You are that dwarf trader. So tell me what I want to know!", a soft yet steely voice, like metal wrapped in silk.
"I am not the one you are looking for and you will hear nothing more from me! We dwarves are hard and steadfast as stone! You can't force me, I...!" his words broke off as the hand settled over his mouth again.
Then Borim heard the heavy footsteps of his guards and the door opened....
"Master Borim? Halva and Karghan have come, we have brought forward the changing of the guard now and I am going to the village with my two friends, shall we bring you anything else..."
Dworrim only faltered briefly as he grasped the situation, his hand went to his axe and he uttered a short command in dwarven. "Azaghâl ig Burr, kaglar Drzz!"
HE reacted like a snake to be poked as the three experienced warriors rushed in and blocked the way. The hope that appeared in Borim like lightning vanished just as quickly. This man moved like a cat. Then he felt a small sting in his neck and his legs buckled away.
From the new perspective, Borim saw the dwarves charging forward, their heavy axes in their hands, determination in their eyes.
They fought well together, three dwarves, three veterans, three buzzing axes. Unbridled dwarven fury was matched by absolute precision and coldness. HE slowly sought his rhythm, began to parry or dodge attacks with fluid movements. Next to the dagger, a longsword had appeared in his hand. Some attacks missed HIM by just a breath, which spurred the dwarves on.
But..they did not hit him. Borim observed a dance of death. He became more and more aware of this. The dwarves slowed down when their first swing did not result in the death of their opponent. At the same time, the frequency of attacks against them increased. The dark man's blades were just misty movements, so fast, so precise.
Suddenly, Baringul grabbed his neck. Blood oozed brightly from between his thick fingers. Disbelief was reflected in his eyes; he had not even seen the fatal cut. "Brother! NO!", Throarrim roared in pain and rage and his axe hurtled towards HIM. Like reeds in the wind, the attacker turned aside, the axe shattered the desk, and a quick stab to the eye sent Throarrim to his brother.
Dworrim stood alone. He wasted no thought on death. 320 years old, this one was an old acquaintance.
"What do you want? Filthy murderer and thief!?" he groaned out as his chain mail deflected another swift blow from the longsword, but only slightly dulled the pain.
"Information and the settlement of an order, old man! Perhaps you can still save your master and yourself..Where is Eremis Gladis?" The exchange of blows had not slowed, but Borim could see with increasing desperation that the assassin was...playing with the dwarf.
"You're leaving when you have this information? Good...you have the wrong Redbeard. No one here knows what you want to know!"
"No," thought Borim, "Dworrim he's LYING!!!" But it was too late.
The old warrior had tried to break the assassin's concentration by the short exchange of words, but he had been mistaken.
His attack at the last word was marked by experience and strength. Dworrim executed a sideways blow to the center of his opponent's body, just above the hip on the dagger side. The axe was too heavy to be parried and the broken desk prevented a retreat backwards.
But the assassin leapt high into the air, his feet almost playfully touching the axe's edge whizzing underneath him, and the thrown dagger found Dworrim's eye with incredible certainty.
Death came at last after all....
Nelial Dankari, pulled the dagger from Dworrim's eye and wiped it on the dwarf's cloak. Then he slowly turned to Borim.
"So...you are the wrong dwarf..."
South South West --> beyond the Borderlands
Borim Redbeard was a young dwarf. He had taken over the management of this trading post only a little less than two years ago. His uncle Galvin, the owner of the Redbeard Company, thought that it would make sense to set up some trading posts along his trade route to store goods and provide food.
Borim was quite content with the life he had built for himself and was in the process of taking inventory of his stock.
As soon as the winter finally left and spring came, the great caravans would again make their way through the mountains towards the north. And with the caravans would come the gold. At the thought of this, the dwarf's face twisted into a broad grin.
"Master Borim, have you made any progress with the inventory, do you still need our help or are the gold stocks back in the vault?"
asked one of the three guards he had specially hired to better protect the trading post. Dworrim was a scarred veteran of many battles, clad in the typical armor of the dwarven race, a heavy chain mail shirt with matching pot helmet. The ever present axe at his belt was well maintained and had a razor sharp edge.
"Baringul and Throarrim are standing guard at the main gate, there's no one around for miles, and when you're done I could run down to the village and get dinner from the Roaring Stag."
Borim nodded, he had indeed already closed the safe and checked the books so far. So he pushed the chair back and stood next to the old mercenary.
Neither of them noticed the dark figure, which silently as death, remained near them. That the curtains did not move only from the wind that streamed in through the slightly open door, or that the shadow behind the chair at the desk was disproportionately long, all this they did not notice.
"Go ahead, Dworrim, but close the door behind you!" said Borim, as he prepared to put the last sheets of parchment on the shelf against the wall.
As the door slammed shut and the room was sparsely lit by the single window and flickering lamps, the dwarf suddenly became acutely aware of every sound and shadow around him: the creaking of the roof, the whistling of the wind, even the clatter of mouse footsteps in the walls. His eyes darted back and forth and his hand involuntarily groped for the heavy dagger at his side. "Why am I so nervous all of a sudden?" he asked himself, still scanning the room around him with glances.
HE had already taken the most favorable attack position and was patiently waiting for the dwarf to bring himself within his reach.
Borim went back behind the desk to close the ledger. His instincts sensed danger, but before he had drawn the dagger even a hand's breadth, long strong hands came to rest on his mouth and a dagger blade, almost gently touched his neck.
Borim felt paralyzed with horror. Never before had he seen someone move so incredibly fast. A short pain on his neck and the warm feeling of blood warned him not to even move.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out part of his attacker. This one was not much taller than the dwarf, maybe 1.65m, but clearly slimmer. It was a man. His eyes were the color of coal. A shadow of beard framed hard but handsome features. Black hair, cut short, and a small crescent-shaped scar on his mouth. Self-possession and control. That was what Bodrim saw in the man's black eyes. And nothing else....nothing...no hatred, no malice...nothing.
"You are Borim Redbeard, the merchant?" a cold voice, devoid of emotion.
Borim nodded, sweat running down his back. Damn it, he was a dwarf! Pulling himself together, he replied, "What do you want? Gold?"
No movement in the man's countenance. "Where is Eremis Gladis?"
The young dwarf was confused, hesitant to answer.
The slender man wasted no time. "I will not wait long, tell me what I want to know, or I will lead you to very great pain."
The pronounced words drive calmly and clearly spoken. Borim knew he would carry out his threat immediately.
"I don't know any Eremis Gladis! Never heard of that name!" he stammered. Yes...he stammered and tears of anger gathered in the corners of his eyes as he realized fear had taken hold of him.
The man's coal-black eyes fixed on Borim, then without any movement he plunged the dagger deep into the dwarf's shoulder.
A low cry of pain escaped his throat, between the fingers of the hand on his mouth.
"Is the memory clearer now, Master Dwarf? My informants have assured me that the dwarf trader Redbeard has a strong connection to Gladis. You are that dwarf trader. So tell me what I want to know!", a soft yet steely voice, like metal wrapped in silk.
"I am not the one you are looking for and you will hear nothing more from me! We dwarves are hard and steadfast as stone! You can't force me, I...!" his words broke off as the hand settled over his mouth again.
Then Borim heard the heavy footsteps of his guards and the door opened....
"Master Borim? Halva and Karghan have come, we have brought forward the changing of the guard now and I am going to the village with my two friends, shall we bring you anything else..."
Dworrim only faltered briefly as he grasped the situation, his hand went to his axe and he uttered a short command in dwarven. "Azaghâl ig Burr, kaglar Drzz!"
HE reacted like a snake to be poked as the three experienced warriors rushed in and blocked the way. The hope that appeared in Borim like lightning vanished just as quickly. This man moved like a cat. Then he felt a small sting in his neck and his legs buckled away.
From the new perspective, Borim saw the dwarves charging forward, their heavy axes in their hands, determination in their eyes.
They fought well together, three dwarves, three veterans, three buzzing axes. Unbridled dwarven fury was matched by absolute precision and coldness. HE slowly sought his rhythm, began to parry or dodge attacks with fluid movements. Next to the dagger, a longsword had appeared in his hand. Some attacks missed HIM by just a breath, which spurred the dwarves on.
But..they did not hit him. Borim observed a dance of death. He became more and more aware of this. The dwarves slowed down when their first swing did not result in the death of their opponent. At the same time, the frequency of attacks against them increased. The dark man's blades were just misty movements, so fast, so precise.
Suddenly, Baringul grabbed his neck. Blood oozed brightly from between his thick fingers. Disbelief was reflected in his eyes; he had not even seen the fatal cut. "Brother! NO!", Throarrim roared in pain and rage and his axe hurtled towards HIM. Like reeds in the wind, the attacker turned aside, the axe shattered the desk, and a quick stab to the eye sent Throarrim to his brother.
Dworrim stood alone. He wasted no thought on death. 320 years old, this one was an old acquaintance.
"What do you want? Filthy murderer and thief!?" he groaned out as his chain mail deflected another swift blow from the longsword, but only slightly dulled the pain.
"Information and the settlement of an order, old man! Perhaps you can still save your master and yourself..Where is Eremis Gladis?" The exchange of blows had not slowed, but Borim could see with increasing desperation that the assassin was...playing with the dwarf.
"You're leaving when you have this information? Good...you have the wrong Redbeard. No one here knows what you want to know!"
"No," thought Borim, "Dworrim he's LYING!!!" But it was too late.
The old warrior had tried to break the assassin's concentration by the short exchange of words, but he had been mistaken.
His attack at the last word was marked by experience and strength. Dworrim executed a sideways blow to the center of his opponent's body, just above the hip on the dagger side. The axe was too heavy to be parried and the broken desk prevented a retreat backwards.
But the assassin leapt high into the air, his feet almost playfully touching the axe's edge whizzing underneath him, and the thrown dagger found Dworrim's eye with incredible certainty.
Death came at last after all....
Nelial Dankari, pulled the dagger from Dworrim's eye and wiped it on the dwarf's cloak. Then he slowly turned to Borim.
"So...you are the wrong dwarf..."
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