Destiny of 9 - Prologue
Posted on 14/08/07 17:35
Mortar ran his rough thick fingers through the receding hair on his scalp. Cold sweat kissed the mason’s hands as the last strands of graying hair fell from his fingers. His eyes peered through the darkness once more as he wiped his hand clean on his trousers. The bodies of his eight companions lay huddled in the small clearing a few feet below him. The strange rock lay in the center of camp; it gave off no light or smoke but provided the heat of roaring campfire. It was something the elf brought with her, he didn’t trust her but he would admit that her baubles had proved useful so far. She stirred in her sleep as if knowing she lay on his mind at that moment. He shook his head violently to toss the image of her strange amber eyes from his mind.
When he was sure that the memory was gone once more he opened his eyes to find them resting on the seer as she lay fast asleep, exhausted from the previous days trials. Blind, her mind came to the forefront of his mind. She was the source of the damned journey that he had been dragged into. The swift motion of his hand wiped the grimace from his face and he made his way down to the camp. His watch for the night had been long over but he could not bring himself to wake the boy, he needed his rest. In the darkness of the moonless night he slipped on a loose rock sliding a short distance. The dwarf quickly pulled his pick from back when he came to a stop, his eyes scanning the forest line like a possessed hawk.
The only movement came from within the camp as his youngest companion stirred from slumber. Mortar relaxed his guard and walked to the boy’s side. The young deverenian shook the sleep from his eyes and looked up at the older dwarf seeing the fist signs of the lightening horizon behind him.
“Mortar, I’m sorry I’ve overslept. I can take my watch now.” His dwarven was broken and simple but he made attempts to learn whenever possible. The boy tried stand, almost collapsing in the process.
“Rest yourself Cayden. I’ve stood your watch for you. Get some more rest.” The dwarf placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder gently forcing him back to the ground. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and Cayden settled back down onto his bedroll.
Once he was sure the boy was asleep once more Mortar moved through the camp stopping at the bed roll of the elder deverenian. He stood there for a second looking with disgust over the knight. With a measured amount of malice in it he kicked at his feet. The man woke with a start, his hand flashing to the long blade next to him. His motion didn’t stop when he recognized the dwarf instead waiting a moment to be sure the pick in the dwarf’s hands was not meant for him. The knight’s eyes flashed to the form of the sleeping boy before returning to the aged dwarf.
“The peasant was supposed to stand watch before me, what happened.” The knight rose slightly and clipped the sword sheath onto his belt.
“His name is Cayden and I took his watch. Thou would do much to remember the sacrifice he has endured at thine expense.” Mortar’s deverenian was cold, cruel and perfect. It bit at the iron heart of the knight as he hastened to put his armor on.
“The boy will never grow to be anything other then a pest if you don’t stop coddling him like a child.” The deverenian sneered as he spoke in the dwarf’s native tongue; Mortar spun the pick in his hand as he set his jaw. The knight froze as he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. The dwarf surpassed in years and combat experience, he knew full well the dwarf could swing before he would have a chance to pull his blade free.
“Watch thine self Jaldais. Know well that a hundred other ways had crossed mine mind when it came to waking you, be thankful I chose the one I did. I might not be so generous the next time.”
Mortar turned away from the knight heading to his own bedroll to catch what few moments of sleep he could before the dawn. Jaldais’ hand trembled and he shook it release the nervousness, moving away from the camp to the small knoll where Mortar was moments before. The old dwarf settled his bones to rest against the soft earth as the memories of days past began to sweep over him.
-Geoffrey Lykken
When he was sure that the memory was gone once more he opened his eyes to find them resting on the seer as she lay fast asleep, exhausted from the previous days trials. Blind, her mind came to the forefront of his mind. She was the source of the damned journey that he had been dragged into. The swift motion of his hand wiped the grimace from his face and he made his way down to the camp. His watch for the night had been long over but he could not bring himself to wake the boy, he needed his rest. In the darkness of the moonless night he slipped on a loose rock sliding a short distance. The dwarf quickly pulled his pick from back when he came to a stop, his eyes scanning the forest line like a possessed hawk.
The only movement came from within the camp as his youngest companion stirred from slumber. Mortar relaxed his guard and walked to the boy’s side. The young deverenian shook the sleep from his eyes and looked up at the older dwarf seeing the fist signs of the lightening horizon behind him.
“Mortar, I’m sorry I’ve overslept. I can take my watch now.” His dwarven was broken and simple but he made attempts to learn whenever possible. The boy tried stand, almost collapsing in the process.
“Rest yourself Cayden. I’ve stood your watch for you. Get some more rest.” The dwarf placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder gently forcing him back to the ground. Exhaustion overwhelmed him and Cayden settled back down onto his bedroll.
Once he was sure the boy was asleep once more Mortar moved through the camp stopping at the bed roll of the elder deverenian. He stood there for a second looking with disgust over the knight. With a measured amount of malice in it he kicked at his feet. The man woke with a start, his hand flashing to the long blade next to him. His motion didn’t stop when he recognized the dwarf instead waiting a moment to be sure the pick in the dwarf’s hands was not meant for him. The knight’s eyes flashed to the form of the sleeping boy before returning to the aged dwarf.
“The peasant was supposed to stand watch before me, what happened.” The knight rose slightly and clipped the sword sheath onto his belt.
“His name is Cayden and I took his watch. Thou would do much to remember the sacrifice he has endured at thine expense.” Mortar’s deverenian was cold, cruel and perfect. It bit at the iron heart of the knight as he hastened to put his armor on.
“The boy will never grow to be anything other then a pest if you don’t stop coddling him like a child.” The deverenian sneered as he spoke in the dwarf’s native tongue; Mortar spun the pick in his hand as he set his jaw. The knight froze as he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. The dwarf surpassed in years and combat experience, he knew full well the dwarf could swing before he would have a chance to pull his blade free.
“Watch thine self Jaldais. Know well that a hundred other ways had crossed mine mind when it came to waking you, be thankful I chose the one I did. I might not be so generous the next time.”
Mortar turned away from the knight heading to his own bedroll to catch what few moments of sleep he could before the dawn. Jaldais’ hand trembled and he shook it release the nervousness, moving away from the camp to the small knoll where Mortar was moments before. The old dwarf settled his bones to rest against the soft earth as the memories of days past began to sweep over him.
-Geoffrey Lykken
