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Thread: Of Honor and Justice

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    Default Of Honor and Justice



    Of Honor and Justice

    The young red headed Dwarf hefted his travel sack over his shoulders and headed towards the mountains. The village men folk were at the new mithril mine as the Priests gave blessings to Brobbet for the bounty bestowed on them. The mine would provide Clan Grimbattle a rich source of income for years to come. Today however, he was to carry a message to his Father. His Mother had gone to her birthing bed and a new clan member was soon to arrive. He set his pace at a quick ground-eating trot as he climbed towards the pass, excited at the prospect of seeing the mine and gaining a new brother or sister. It was a good day to be alive and he murmured a quick prayer to Brobbet as he climbed.

    Reaching the crest of the pass he paused for breath and felt a chill wash over his body. Looking back down at the village below him he gasped in horror! Smoke was rising from several buildings and two large dragons circled above. Taking turns they would dive down breathing fire on another building then swoop skyward once more. Fumbling in panic at his belt he unhooked his horn and gave three long blasts into the cool mountain air. The men-folk! They were all at the mine! Fear leant wings to his feet and he flew over the narrow trail, heedless of the drop-off on his right or the rocks in his way. As he ran he blew again and again on the horn, calling of danger and a battle to come. Why? Why did the drakes attack? There was talk of a peace treaty between all the races to combat the advent of the Withered Aegis, an evil far worse then any they had ever seen. So why attack now? Did they covet the mithril?

    His breath was labored and a stitch had developed in his side when he finally seen figures coming down the trail towards him at a run. The men! They had heard his horn and headed to the village, weapons in hand. His Father, the Thane stopped before him waiting for an explanation! ?Dragons Papa! Two of them! And Mama has taken to her birthing bed? That was all he had breath for and he dropped to his knees as he gasped to fill his lungs in the thin mountain air. The men doubled their pace and sped down the mountain trail and soon were out of sight. He rested until his breathing was once again steady then stood and set off after them, fearing what he might find.

    He came down the trail to a scene of utter destruction. Fire and smoke raged from houses and workshops. Men, women and children were forming lines frantically dousing fires as quick as was possible. His home! His home was ablaze and he ran full out. Several men grabbed him before he plunged into the flames, holding him back. A shape appeared through the smoke, staggering from the smoke and a burden in his arms. His Father! Smoke trailed from the Thanes? beard and his clothing was burned and smoldering. Tears ran down the old Dwarfs? cheeks as he laid his burden on the ground. The restraining hands let him go and he ran to his father, crying out when he saw who his Father had carried from the fire. His Mother! His Mother and a small bundle held tightly in her lifeless arms. The Cleric looked up from the lifeless body and shook her head. There was nothing to be done. ?A sister Lad, his Papa sobbed. You had and lost a sister.?
    The gathered crowd slipped away giving the two the space they needed to mourn. A crackling and snapping came from the house behind them and the smell of smoke hung heavy in the air. The young Dwarf felt he was choking on smoke, drowning in it. He fanned his hands frantically in an effort to breath. Strong fingers gripped his and held him fast.


    ?Wake up Bori!? said a voice in his head. ?Bori Grimbattle! Wake up now!? He opened his eyes and looked into the Gnomish eyes of Arirabeth Quickfingers, his adventure companion. ?Ye are havin? that dream again!? Sitting up in his bedrolls he glanced at the smoldering campfire then to the sky in the east. Dawn was almost upon them and the smoke from the fire had once more given rise to his nightmares. He shuddered again at the clarity of his memories.

    He would never forget that day or the following one, when they had buried his Mother and baby sister in a single grave. His Father had shaved his beard during the night and spoke not a word by his side. To a young Dwarf it felt like he had lost his Father as well and for a long time after it was the truth. It was Bori who would travel to Dralk to meet with the Dragon leaders to seek Justice for the Hearth and the Clan. He had walked unafraid into the mountain bowl where the Dragons held council, had stood straight and proud as he read the demands for Wergild and for Justice. He had remained unblinking and stoic as the huge Dragon proffered up a chest of mithril coins and he got angry when they refused to offer up the two Drakes that had destroyed his village for punishment. They would take care of it the huge Dragon had promised with a tooth baring smile, but he knew the answer for what is was. A lie meant to mollify him and his Father and Clan but still a lie. The ink was barely dry on the newly signed treaty between the races. The Dragon had smiled again as he emptied the chest of mithril coin on the floor of the mountain bowl and turned to walk away. His father had told him one thing before he left and he remembered it then, ready to dive aside at a moments warning. ?Never trust a smiling Dragon? had been his Fathers? words to him and he had not trusted the one behind him. He spoke loudly as he walked out, in a strong, unshaken voice. ?Without Honor there can be no Justice!? and murmured under his breath the remainder of the creed, ?Without Justice there can be no Future.? The future for Clan Grimbattle looked bleak back then and he still sought Justice for his Clan. He had taken the path of a Paladin, sworn to Brobbet and vowed to search for the two Drakes until Honor, Justice and the Future were satisfied.

    His scrambled out of his bedroll and set to packing up the camp. Arirabeth was busy at the fire, readying a quick breakfast and humming softly to herself. He smiled as he looked at the wee Gnome and thanked Brobbet for her companionship. She had made it clear when they had met that his Quest was hers and she would help her Dwarven cousin gain what he sought. Many times her Clerical skills had saved him from near death and beyond but the Dwarf knew she was also yearning for a romantic relationship as well. That would have to wait however, until Brobbet was satisfied with him and gave him leave. For now, he served his God first and Clan second. There was no room for himself or romance until the first two were met and Justice still remained elusive. Completing his packing he stepped to the fire to grab a proffered plate, eating quickly, eager to be off. Something had drawn him to these mountains near the boarder of Dralk and Kirasanct. Something tugged him ever upwards like a string pulling at his soul. Arirabeth had said not a word when he had told her of this latest journey, she had just packed her travel kit and met him at the portal in Jambi ready to go. He could not and would not dissuade her for she went where she willed and secretly he was thankful for it. Finishing his meal he helped clean and pack the remainder then hitched his pack over his shoulders and stared up at the mountain, waiting for the tug on his soul to tell him what direction to take.

    ?We head west? he said, to Dralk. Picking a careful path through the boulders he started climbing with the nimble footed Gnome following easily behind. They climbed for hours, the only sound being Arirabeths? low humming. She hummed always it seemed, even when fighting though the tone of the tunes she hummed changed. The pull on him grew suddenly stronger as they entered a narrow steep walled canyon. Strange rock formations thrust themselves up from the canyon floor casting grotesque shadows across the far wall. The Gnomes? humming grew louder and he scanned his surroundings carefully. That was always a sign that something was amiss. Somehow she sensed things that he did not, even if she was unaware of it. He drew his sword from its scabbard, a wondrous two handed great sword. A bright blue glow radiated from the blade as the magic within activated. The sword had been passed to him from his Father, a Glimmel Lake sword, rare and no longer made. He sensed Airiabeth behind him readying her war hammer and pulling her shield from her back to her forearm. ?Something is not right he? whispered, then the stones moved!

    ?Golems!? he yelled and brought his sword up to the ready. Arirabeth positioned herself at his back facing one of the behemoths while he faced the nearer of the pair. Quickly he launched his attack, his footwork fluid as he sidestepped a descending fist of solid granite. The sword came up catching the Golem in the right hip, the enchanted blade biting deeply into the solid rock. Wrenching it back to the defense he parried another blow, the shock traveling along the blade sending tingles into his palms. He glanced quickly at Arirabeth as her war hammer sent chips of granite flying from a Golems knee then chuckled as she scurried between its legs to strike another blow at the same knee from behind. Still he could hear her humming a song as she danced with her adversary. He turned his attention back to his foe just in time to take a hit on his left shoulder. The pain was intense but he gritted his teeth and swung quickly around catching the offending arm as it was raised up for another blow. The arm separated at the elbow, the hand clutching vainly as it fell to the rocky ground. A rumble sounded from his opponent as it tried to stomp on him with a huge foot. Calling upon his innate abilities he unleashed a flurry of blows in succession to the leg and smiled when the Golem slowly toppled. Grasping the Glimmel Lake blade tightly in stepped up on the golems shoulders and brought the sword down across the neck, sending the head rolling across the canyon floor. He turned quickly to the Gnome only to find her leaning on her shield grinning at him. ?If ya did not stop to be looking at me Mister Grimbattle you would have killed that thing long ago and would not be needing me healing skills!? He grimaced as he remembered his shoulder and the blow he had taken but smiled when he felt the warmth of Aris? touch upon it. ?I be thanking ye, Miss Ari? he bowed. ?Remind me not to be looking? at ya in the future will you?? and chuckled when the Gnome blushed a deep red.

    The ground rumbled again and they turned to face up the canyon, their eyes widening in fear! ?Obsidian!? cried the Gnome! Saying a silent prayer to Brobbet the Dwarf called upon Divine protection and waded into the advancing creature, sword sending sparks flying from where they struck. The immense beast centered its? attention on the raging Dwarf, wanting to smash this creature that had destroyed his brethren. Blow after blow it rained upon the red bearded Dwarf with no effect as that terrible sword bit deep into its rocky skin. Arirabeth was behind it, war hammer pounding into its legs sending fist sized chips skittering across the canyon floor. The huge beast turned to swipe at the pesky Gnome and the Dwarf saw his chance. Calling once more on his innate skills he unleashed a terrific blow at the Golems chest splitting the rock like one would a slab of butter. The creature turned back, surprised that such a small creature could unleash such damage then with a rumble tumbled backwards crushing the Gnome beneath it! ?Miss Ari? yelled the Dwarf and dropping his blade he bent down and grasped the now still Golem. Straining mightily he heaved the rock construct off the Gnome, frantic to see if she was still alive. Dropping to his knees he called to Brobbet and his hands glowed white as he raised the crumpled Gnome up. Furrowing his brow, he concentrated, sending the Divine power into the broken body. Slowly, her color returned, the bones knitted themselves together and she opened her eyes. ?Why thank ye, Bori Grimbattle, does that mean ya do care a bit for me?? she said just as things went black.

    He awoke to the sound of Aris? humming, a tune he had heard before when the battle was done. One day he would have to find out what song she was humming. ?Ah, yer awake Bori Grimbattle! Next time don?t be expending all yer energy on me. I can be doing a bit of healing as well you know!? she said in a stern voice with her hands firmly planted on her hips. The twinkle in her eye however gave her away. He sat up and looked around at the carnage. She had already searched the dead stone constructs and had laid out the spoils in front of her, carefully examining each piece. One item caught his eye, an iridescent orb that shifted and moved when one looked directly at it. She caught the direction of his stare. ?Don?t rightly know what that be, Bori. Doesn?t do anything except look purdy!?

    He stood up and bent to pick up his sword, sheathing it in a quick movement. ?Best we were off Lass, before the light fails us.? Hitching his pack over his shoulder he waited patiently while she packed up her spoils and headed up the canyon, watching for any sign of more Golems. As they walked his mind went over the years he had spent searching for Justice and the two dragons that had destroyed his village and his family. He had listened carefully to any thread of information he could find. He had questioned and befriended other dragons who could offer little in the way of information. There was the caustic tongued Mist, the stalwart Ebel who would drop anything to fly over to lend a claw or a wing if called, Radzy, who knew more Dragon Lore than any other he had met, HeavensShadow a close friend of the Blades and the wise Sephiranoth. There were even dragons living in Jambi where he had built a house, Adramaleck the great red and Arydun his mate, as well as several hatchlings who had decided that Jambi would be a good place to live. He had come to know and therefore trust these Dragons but still had no word of the two he sought. Even the Great Drake Amadan, with whom he had many a mock battle, even defeating him once, could offer up no clues. He chuckled lightly at the memory; he still teased the Drake with the sword he had used to win the battle, even though he knew the Drake had let him win. The huge Wyrm did not have to know that however, it was fun to tease.

    The shadows were lengthening across the canyon floor when they came to an abrupt stop. Although the pull on him was strong from the direction they had been traveling the canyon ended in a rock wall. He stepped forward and ran his hand over the surface. As smooth as polished obsidian it was, with not a rough spot to be found except for a circular depression in the center. A faint line around the edges gave a hint to what it was, a door. The two travelers puzzled over its opening. They pushed and prodded, pried and felt carefully for secret switches to no avail. Tired from the days adventures Ari sat down on a nearby boulder and pulled the iridescent orb from her pack, hoping to discover its secret. It did have a nice way of glowing, yet if she looked directly at it the surface would shift as if it was attempting to get away from her prying eyes. The Dwarf chuckled and went back to examining the rock face for any clue on how to open it. Rolling a nearby boulder to the center of the rock face he scrambled up to examine the circular depression. He pressed the center with his hand and was about to poke at it with his sword when he abruptly stopped and glanced back to the Gnome and the orb then back to the depression. ?Miss Ari! The orb! Bring me the orb!? Glancing up as if the Dwarf had suddenly gone daft, the Gnome bounced to her feet, jumped down from the boulder she had been perched on and scurried over, passing Bori the orb. Carefully the Dwarf placed the orb in the center of the depression. Long unused hinges somewhere squealed in protest but slowly the door opened inwards. A blast of air, smelling of death and decay wafted out of the opening as fresh air rushed in to take its place. Jumping down, the Dwarf rolled a couple large boulders in the doors path in case it accidentally closed then climbed another and removed the orb. Nothing happened. Circling the door to the inner side he glanced upwards to see an identical depression. This side of the door was not smooth though. Huge claw marks marred the surface, some deep into the stone where something large had fought to get out. ?I see how it be working Lass! This orb ya found be the key to open or close the door, dependin? on which side ya be usin? it on and what position it be in!? Scrambling down from the rock he stowed the orb-key in his pocket and reaching in his pack brought forth his sunscope and flicked it on. Light from the Gnomish invention flooded the inside revealing an immense cavern and death!

    Laying next to each other, in the center of an immense pile of jewels, coins, weapons and other treasure were the skeletons of two huge dragons. Their unseeing eyes faced the doorway. Somehow the orb-key had fallen out of the inner depression and rolled outside before the door slammed closed, sealing them in. The two travelers could only imagine the horror the two drakes must have felt when they realized their fate. It was a terrible way to spend eternity.

    The Dwarf felt his gaze being pulled away, to the side of the larger of the skeletons. Something glowed from beneath the pile, a pure white light that cut through the yellow of his sunscope. A strange look of excitement washed over the Dwarfs? face as he approached the object. Bending low he gripped the protruding edge with his hand and pulled. The white light flared brightly then muted to a barely discernible glow. He looked at what he held, a large ornate shield etched with fantastic scenes of Dwarves and Gnomes, Dryads and Elves. Every race of Istaria was represented on the face of the shield. He read the inscription around the edge, ?Without Honor there can be no Justice, Without Justice there can be no Future? and below that the mark of the person who had made the shield, which read simply, Clan Grimbattle!

    It had been a difficult clean up after the fires were out. Many buildings were destroyed beyond repair. The Dragons had taken everything of value they could possibly carry with them, including the symbol of Clan Grimbattle, a large ornate shield that hung over the door of the Clan Hall. His Father never forgave himself for losing his Wife, his Daughter and his Honor. He had shaved his beard that first night after the attacks and his face was still bare to this day. As Thane it fell upon him to insure the safety of the Clan. Though many years had passed and many a Dwarf would have taken a new Wife and begun again, his Father could not face the shame he had brought upon Clan Grimbattle. He had stepped down the following day, passing the Leadership to his Brother. He lived now in the back of his forge, a broken man, trying over and over to replicate the shield he had lost.

    The red-bearded Dwarf dropped to his knees when he realized what he held in his hands. Tears ran unashamed down his face and a sob broke deep within his barrel chest. The watching Gnome nodded silently to herself and quietly slipped out the doorway. She could hear the sobs of the Dwarf inside as he gave thanks to Brobbet for leading him to this place. Humming happily to herself she moved further down the canyon and began to set up camp and to ready a meal.

    How long he sat there he could not tell, but he both marveled and shuddered at the Justice of Brobbet. His God could be cruel when angered and once again he thought of the horror the two Dragons must have felt being entombed alive. He must have decided to take action after Justice was denied to the Grimbattle Clan, mused the Dwarf, but it was still a horrible way to die. However, he now had the Shield. His Father would regain His Honor and the Grimbattle Clan could once again look to the Future instead of dwelling in the Past. He wiped his face and beard free of tears and a smile brightened his craggy features. He would offer the orb-key to his Dragon friends so they could come and Honor their own. What was done was done. He cared nothing for the riches that surrounded him, he had the Shield. Perhaps the trove could go to hatchlings to help them on their way to adulthood. Perhaps by doing so the schism between the races would be narrowed. Perhaps the Peace Treaty would continue long after the Withered Aegis was defeated. Yes, there was a Future to look forward to.

    Carefully rolling away the rocks he had placed in the way of the door the Dwarf clambered up and placed the orb-key in the outer depression. He jumped quickly down and scurried out as the door closed behind him. Regaining the orb-key he turned towards Aris? campfire and singing happily went to see what she had cooked up for supper. Seeing her smile and hearing her humming he grinned broadly. Yes, there was a Future to look forward too.



    Bori Grimbattle
    Bori Grimbattle --->The Dwarf
    Sinistre Azazael---> The Fiend
    Adramaleck Flerious--->The Dragon

    ~Mystic Blades~
    ~Jambi,Order~

  2. #2
    imported_peladon
    Guest

    Default Re: Of Honor and Justice

    That which follows is submitted with the approval of Bori-Grimbattle, but is not written by Bori-gift. For those who care, it is a tale of some elements of what transpired from the dragon point of view. It is based on the RP background of Sephiranoth ShadowSeeker, parts of which are known to many of many races. It is likely that most of those would rather they had never heard of the matter or the drake in question?.) Of Honor and Justice ? Ael Draku ( Ael is a word from the tongue the one now called as Sephiranoth spoke as a youngling. It loosely translates as Wisdom. It can, in contexts of imparting education or learning, also mean tale or story. Hence Ael-theyr, which has corrupted over time to Aelther, and thence to Elder. Thus, Ael Draku ( Wisdom of many dragons or Wisdom of the race) is an educational tale from a dragon perspective or as told by dragons. For reference, drakonis is a drake inhabited by a primarily male spirit. For a drake inhabited by a primarily female spirit, drakonel. The plural of drakonis is technically drakunis and the plural for drakonel is technically drakunel. However, common parlance has drakonis and drakonel as both singular and plural. The head of a clan is technically either ? clan drakonel? or ? clan drakonis? dependant on the balance of their spirit. However, common use now refers to them as ? clan?, and leaves the gender designation out). ? He comes, clan?.? The words of the recently risen adult who carried massages for the outfliers who guarded the clan broke the silence of the deep cave. The red and black scaled drake who sat silent towards the back of the deep cave did not move. Then, after a time, without looking up, it spoke. ? Who comes, young Voice? Precision in the words of the messenger is the key to understanding. Or did outflier First Wing Gorlith give those words alone to thee?? The clan drakonel?s voice was not harsh, even faintly amused, but the words were inflexible. ? My regrets, clan drakonis. A single dwarf approaches Dralk afoot. It approaches through the Southern Pass. Wing Fulgar Skyspear of patrol Storm has identified the banner and mark of Clan Grimbattle. First Wing Gorlith does not perceive threat and suggests this be the envoy you spoke of.? ? Better, Voice Storm. The event, the facts and the minimum necessary analysis. Now. Why does the First Wing not speak of the dwarf as male or female?? A faint note of pedagogy entered the tone of the red and black dragon. It was a weakness of his kind? ? Clan drakonel. In these tides, gender is strange to our kind. Report of gender can therefore be prone to error. Report of gender is only made where it is confirmed accurate and relevant to the report. Dwarf gender is?dwarves are? It is difficult to report dwarf gender, clan drakonel. And history records that dwarf females, where identified, are no less threat with axe or magery than males. Thus the report of gender is not required by patrol discipline.? ? Excellent, Voice. It is perhaps meet to speak that First Wing Gorlith has spoken well of thee. Return and tell the First Wing that the dwarf is to pass, but remain under eye.? After the cadet Voice had left the cave, the red and black drake crouched silent on the cave floor. After a time, a voice spoke from behind him. ? So, Alth?. It is come. Those who might speak for Dralk feel no need. The matter be sat in thy claw and the cost of failure nests with our clan. Such honour they do us?? Altharion DreamWeaver felt a ripple of scale cross its shoulder at the faintly bitter tone of its mate?s ( though the biped word spoke but a breath of the depth and span of the binding) speaking. In a biped it would have been called a wince? ? Maladrien, heartsfire, ye know I never sought this. None of us have. But Dralk has spoken, and spoken in words of rock and fire. The choices are a cold wind. Toek BrokenFang and Fuldar Frostwind are lost to us. This we know. But there is why. Ever, there is why? Mordin?s get would rend the Treaty before it e?er be full grown. If Clan Grimbattle were no more, then there would be no tales to tell of dead dwarves and draku flame. And some in Dralk would take that wind? but the Treaty holds. Yet if this dwarf stands forth and speaks of those who burned his people, and we speak of Mordin? then The Clan will come, and in the night flame will burn and Grimbattle will be no more, Treaty or no. And then there will be no Treaty? And Mordin will laugh long and long and long. And if Grimbattle stand forth and we do not speak, and we do nothing, then will they take their tale far and long and wide and the Treaty will become undead, with none trusting its words where draku fly. And without draku, there is no Treaty is no Truth.? ? So what is to be done, Alth?? Whether Toek and Fuldar be Stone-ridden or were but missed by the clutch mothers, they did as they did and are no more with us. We could not offer them even if that was the True Flame our spirits followed? and it would not be. No, not in any wise. Talk they would before the Grimbattle had their way and the things they would speak? No. Yet still the dwarf comes?? Altharion sat silent, his eyes lost in distance. Then it spoke. ? Aye, Mal?. And that be what will save us. It be a dwarf that comes. And dwarves are? they are as of the rock they hew and the metal they smelt. They do not bend. And a Were coin we have gathered, a chest brim full of mithril coin. Most highly do we value the dead of Grimbattle!? ? A chest of mithril, Alth?? The clan will cast you out! It will take every coin that there be, and that be more than we may give! The hoards will be empty for all that follow thy Flame!? ? It be a dwarf Mal??? The small one stood before Altharion and Maladrien. It was clear it was no elder of its clan, but it stood with no fear. And the Voice it offered would have stood any Wing proud in the clarity and precision of the report it brought. It spoke of women and younglings, of fire and death. It spoke of its clan?s loss and made no greater thing of its own than the loss of any other. Even as it spoke, tears of flame burned the eyes of Altharion Dreamweaver and it knew full well that his weaving would be coloured by the Accursed and its deeds for long and long. But it also knew that there must be no hint of that in this place. So it forced the hint of a smile to both eyes and jaw. ? Ah, yes. Some buildings broken, a shield of some making taken, and, mayhap, a dwarf or three lost. Unfortunate? aye indeed. Unfortunate. But done, and not to be taken back. So. What ye have of me, small one?? From the side where it watched, Maladrien could see the rage that threatened to overwhelm the dwarf at Altharion?s words. That the small one held itself in check was a matter that was worthy of scales! The time it had flown at Altharion?s side let it know that not a single word or a merest flicker of expression was not chosen precisely and carefully. But they seemed ill-omened. Maladrien had thought that Alth? would seek to reason in some manner with the envoy, to find some place of meeting that did not involve or reveal that which must not be spoken. But this! ? What would I have of ye, clan lord? I would have that which the Treaty demands. I would have those that burned my people be given over to our hands. Dwarven Justice shall they face, as the Treaty is written! And though it be no Justice, it be a thing of the law also that recompense?no, not recompense for there be none, that penalty be paid in coin for the comfort of those that have lost clan. Justice there must be, and Weregild there must be, and by the law, clan Grimbattle will declare an ending in their speaking. For their spirits and their hearts I cannot say?? Altharion let the smile at his jaw grow a little broader, hard though that was? ? Ah, indeed. The Treaty. That ye bipeds have finally come to thy senses and agreed to join with us that ye may find our teaching is a truly good thing. It has been long and long since ye forsook that path of wisdom. But to speak of the Law one must first know the Law. Justice, aye. It speaks of that. But not of Dwarven Justice. Merely that those found at fault, and found at fault they have not yet been, merely spoken of, must face proper Justice. And that term is key. I know naught of Dwarven law, envoy. It be too new a subject for my knowing. But I am sure it be some good effort in the manner of justice. But by dwarves it be made. And thus for dwarves it be held. So. Let us say a dwarf had, in some manner minor, transgressed against draku. Mayhap it had insulted a clan drakonel. Not a thing for honour to seek, ye understand? Now. Let us further speak on this. Let us think that the Treaty demanded the dwarf be given over to draku Law and Justice. What would transpire? Well, the clan drakonel would be consulted of course, and most are lenient? Mayhap the one at fault may be sentenced to? forgoing flight for a ten-day! For that is what a drake would gather as penalty. Well, and well! How that dwarf would fear such a binding! To forgo flight! Why, the very air would be thick with insults to the lords of clans. A drake who wished to offer insult would simply spin a copper or two to any biped near and the deed would be done! Which be why the Treaty says not so. It says the wrong doer must face proper Justice. And as any Ael-theyr would speak, that can only be the Justice of its own kind. And rest easy, small one. We will deal with these young hotheads as is? fitting?. Altharion held a note of convivial joviality in its voice, almost impossible as that was. The spirit it saw in this dwarf was strong and unbending and just. The pain it must inflict on the small one was unavoidable, but left acid and fire in its jaws. ? Now, as to the matter of coin. Yes, yes, the Treaty speaks indeed of this thing called Weregeld. To offer coin for the death of another? why it be close to a thing of hoard! Ye do seek to learn wisdom in this matter. And coin we do have?? Altharion concentrated a moment, and a small flame leapt forth and blew open the lid of the chest on the floor. Mithril coins piled to the lid gleamed in the flame?s passing. ? Take it, small one. And the matter be closed?? The dwarf looked at Altharion, eye to eye. And few there were that could do that? Then he looked at Maladrien. Then he strode forward and drew the axe from his belt. Altharion moved not a muscle, but Maladrien readied a bolt of primal should what it feared transpire. The dwarf stepped forward and raised its axe high. Then it brought it down, swift and hard. The axe cleaved clean through the chest, scattering mithril coin to left and right. When it hit the ground, a single coin lay split either side of the axe blade. ? WITHOUT HONOUR THERE CAN BE NO JUSTICE.? The dwarf?s voice was not angry, not sad. It was simply inflexible, like cold rock. The dwarf turned and left the cave. As it walked away, keen drake ears heard it speak once more. Softly, but just as firm. ? Without Justice there can be no Future.? When the dwarf had left, the cave was silent. But still the ghost of the words remained, held it seemed aloft on a breeze that would not die. ? Without Honour there can be no Justice. Without Justice there can be no Future.? ? Do ye see, Mal?? A dwarf it was. Draku, human, elf? mayhap any. The coin would be gone and still the anger remain. But the dwarf-kin? they hold Honour and Justice first. Thus I knew the coin would stay. As if any other would seek the Flame of this clan right now?? Altharion?s voice was bitter. ? Enough, Altharion. It is done as it had to be. Now there is that which must be done as it must be. But how may we craft that doing? The dwarf may never believe another dragon for all of time, but I know thee and thy word was given. It will not be lost. But where lies the wind that will craft the doing? New come or from the Stone, Toek and Fuldar be Clan-lost. But The Clan have hidden long and long and even those two will be beyond our finding?? ? That which is hidden may not be seen? But that which may not be seen leaves a hole in thy sight that may yet be found? They hide and thy sight finds them not. But bound I am still and thus I may not find them? so they may thus be found?? The voice was thin and whispered. Still clear, but like the last breeze of a dying day rather than the storm it had once been, that could still be heard clinging to its edges. Altharion reared up and raised a claw. ? Who enters the Judgement Bowl without call?? ? Call, Altharion Weaver of Dreams? Call? Long and long and longer has it been since I was called to Judgement. I fell and was judged fallen. I am here because here is where I must be. Soon enough for thee I shall be here no more and that is as it must be also.? ? It is the old one! Banakar of the Oath! It has not woken from sleep in a hundred ten-days!? Maladrien spoke in a whisper pitched for Altharion?s ear alone. But the words did not escape the old and withered drake before her. ? Maladrien clan drakonel. Sleep is what one does when there are no deeds more to do or thoughts more to think. I have sought my? I have sought that which I seek and not found it this walking. But now there is fire and death and the loss of honour. Mine be dust, but the honour of our kind still stands. Thus I wake? till I wake no more. The ones ye seek. Seeking I know. They shall be found. Await my word on the wind.? With that the dragon with once blue scales, now close to midnight black, was gone. Altharion raised his forefeet and reared high, its voice roaring across the Judgement Bowl. RAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWR! ? Clan drakonel, Elder of Dralk, why the very self of Drulkar! I swear, for that one there would yet be no difference! There is no insult in the words, but wherever the world?s wind drives others, that one flies some other path!? ? Calm yourself, Alth?. It be not clan to follow the clan. Oft has it said it may not take our Flame, nor any other.? ? Oh, aye indeed Mal?. Oft and oft has it said all things. And it knows no commander save this nonsense Oath it bears. Hah! And alone it is not, whatever it speaks? Do ye recall when first it came to us? Well, rocks were younger then and so was I. And recent called to guard the clan?s Flame. And even a dwarf be less sensitive to honour than a new clan drakonis? So when this shadow of a draku took residence close by, and sat by our council speakings and took long flight with the new adults that they grow or brought gifts to the younglings, why I thought to honour it with our Flame! And there I heard it first speak of Oath and binding, of falling and seeking. But no Flame would it take? And wroth I was, that it found us unworthy. And I stormed the deep caves and I resolved that it would no longer take space near us and profit from our honour, as I did see it, with no duty to thy clan. And I called it to the Judgement Bowl, I did. It would be cast out, by my word? And I came here. And I waited. And it did not come? but others came. Oh, indeed, others came? It was the clutch mothers, do ye see? Most never do they leave the hatchling places, save when they seek the mountains. But they came, many and many. From our clan, aye, and others I knew? They came to the Bowl and they would not let me pass. Me, a clan drakonel! And one stepped forth, and it spoke to me. And these words it made. Ye are One, but Five ye be not. And while ye speak, ye do not Speak, nor be Heard, nor Bound. And Five have Spoken and been Heard and been Bound and then have judged. Thus judge ye may not. And this is the word of those that watch. And then they all left. All bar the one that had spoken. And before it left it spoke again. The Oathbound Stone be two in one. The Oathbound Stone will ever come. Till Five shall Feast and Truth be spoken, till one is two and Oath be broken. We are those who watch. The Oathbound Stone did not fail our watching, but still it walks. Stand not in its path, clan drakonel. And then it too was gone. And to this day, Mal?, it yet drives me to flame and claw and wing, and still I know not a thing about it that I can state with certainty. PFAH. From the look of its scales, soon it will be no more and then, mayhap, I may sleep of a night?? From the rocks above the rim of the Judgment Bowl where it listened, Banakar nodded in agreement with the clan drakonel below. Aye indeed. Soon it would pass once more. But not till this matter was done. So it lifted to wing and took flight. As it flew, on wings that were slower in age but still beat strong enough to bear it, it pondered. The Treaty was not in the interests of The Clan. This was so. But in no wise would that be enough to bring them forth from their hiding. Rather, as ever, they would seek to sow distrust and friction and make the Treaty fail from within. Two draku had flown and burned and killed. Two of Altharion?s clan, two of a single time of hatching. Thus, either those that watch had twice failed in but a single watching, or those that flew had not flown at their own will. That the clutch mothers did miss the Stone reborn of a time was a true thing. That two such in a single watch had passed was beyond imagining. Aye, indeed. Clan-ridden the two had been beyond doubt. Hah! The matter began to unravel! Now, if Clan ridden, could aught else be said? Well, mayhap. Draku were of might, yet dwarves were no matter to be ignored and left for nothing. For an attack such as this, there was risk of failing. A drake may be injured, taken by magery or steel. And then it would fall, and perhaps be lost. In such a falling there may be no time for the Clan spirit within to free the bindings. And thus that spirit may be lost. Was the cause enough that a drakonel of the Clan be placed at such risk? Banakar knew it was not. Thus the lost ones would not be bound by drakonel of the Clan, but by invisible ones, drakonin. They could be used without issue after all? And if they were Clan drakonin, then they would have been bound to the lost ones by drakonel, and would not have the skills of unbinding. They were cast forth, even as he. Hah, and twice HAH! The Clan hid in many ways. Yet one of the most effective was also one of the most simple. In ways learned of the Hidden Ones, the blue ones that bound the Oath, they had found the manner of bending desire. A place could be marked, that as one drew near, it seemed to lose interest and some other thing near gathered the need and the attention more. No wall of fire that all could see, but rather a place that? was not what was sought. Was of no focus or relevance to the seeker or watcher. And if none knew the effect might be present, most worthy were the results. A Clan place might sit close by many and be remarked on by none, entered by none and yet raise no doubts. But if the thing was known? why then it be a hole in the sight that might be used to see the thing plain! Banakar began to fly wide, sweeping paths that quartered the land surrounding Dralk and lay towards the place of Kirasanct. As it flew, it felt the first stirrings of disinterest. Why fly this way? Naught lay here? Surely it would be better to seek the steading of clan Grimbattle? There the draku had struck, there they would be found? and there was good feasting on the prey in the mountains East? It was enough. It began to circle the edges of that feeling, driving the circle smaller and smaller as the feeling grew?until there was naught below his wing but a canyon that met its end in a wall of rock. Taking stance under a near rock tower, it drew on its knowing of the ways of such things from the one within. There?s naught here. No interest, let thine eyes pass elsewhere. ?Tis only rock and stone and sand in the wind? But Banakar watched. And a watching dragon may outstare the very sun itself? Of a time and a time, the wall at the end of the canyon moved. Slowly it swung wide, and as it swung, it let the light fall on those the OathBound would find. As the dragons stepped forth, one took up a thing it held in its claw, a large crystal it seemed. It placed the rock in a mark on the canyon wall, and the wall again swung slowly shut. The drake removed the rock and the pair took wing, circling higher and yet higher. And Banakar moved not a scale. Of a time and a time, the pair returned, each bearing a full grown cow in its claws. As they landed by the rock face, one again took forth the crystal and set it to the stone. The wall swung open slowly. Entering, the drake took the stone and placed it on a similar mark inside the wall. As it did, the wall swung slowly shut. With no sign of their passing, the drakes were gone. It was time, and past time. Still without moving a scale, in the manner the Gifted would come to call Telling, Banakar spoke to the wind? ? They are found. Bring ye thy trusted ones, those of the breath of ice and the strong of wing. Come swift Weaver of Dreams, or all be lost.? Altharion started from slumber as the aged whisper rang in its ears. It looked about the cave for the intruder, but none were to be seen. Still, that voice it knew. The note of respect for authority that was so distinctly lacking, while the note of almost absent minded affection that was so present. It was Banakar and none other. As it took wing, it saw two others coming even now to its nesting place. Maladrien and First Wing Gorlith. They took position each to a different wing side and flew with Altharion. Gorlith spoke. ? Clan. I must confess to transgression. It seems that I have arranged a training patrol for some of our veteran Wings and Claws. Ones who? have no fondness for Dralk or any voice save thine. It was to be a thing I would call at short notice, with unknown purpose, to test their readiness. The old one, Banakar, did suggest it to me as a thought of thine. I have sent the call. Have I done ill?? Pfah. Again the old one had interfered. Again that same doing had turned to be of need and knowing, as others had in the past. Again, there was only one course? ? Nay, First Wing. It is as I? It is as I wish. Let us fly to the place I show thee?? The flight of drakes flew low to the ground and swift, clinging to ridge lines and mountain passes. This was but second nature to those of the outliers, whose task was to see, and not yet be seen save by design. Of a time and a time, they came to a canyon riddled land, and Altharion rose higher and led them to a place of rock under a tower of stone. There it landed and took stance. ? Clan, why are we here? This place is but a flame cast upon the water. It is nothing. Where be what we seek?? Gorlith?s voice was puzzled. Equally of mind was Altharion, and it raised wings to fly. There was naught here? ? Hold, clanling. Thou hast indeed found thy seeking?? The voice was low, yet came from nothing. Then a spur of rock unfurled into a wing, and a stone that was a stone became a claw and the light of a star became an eye and Banakar was there. ? It is but a mazing of the mind. And it is that which shows us where we are is where we must be and what we do is what must be done.? Banakar told the assembled drakes of the wall of rock and the stone crystal. And what must be done? ? Die? But they are of clan! Tend them we must, and mend them! If drake kill drake, then the Schism will fail and? We cannot kill them!? Banakar?s wings drooped. And his voice was saddened and almost it was lost? ? Gorlith. They are not of thy clan. They are Clan-ridden, and such do not return. They may not be mended, for the spirits within them are Clan, and if those spirits be lost, then they are but dead husks. The older spirits are eaten? And ye will not kill them. Oh, they will die indeed, but not by thy claw or mine, and even the doing shall not be thine but mine, and in that doing shall come my passing. Is that enough for penalty, that a thing be done and a drake die from the doing? And this is how it will be. I shall pass to that door and they will cause it to be open to me. And I shall cast a shield of primal, that they call not forth to those of Mordin? yes, I will speak that name! And the crystal I will seize. And while this be done, shall those of mighty wing cause great winds to hurl them to the back of the cave, and those of mighty ice breath shall close great walls of ice around them and above them and below them and to bind them. And thus it will be. And held they will be. And in that cave will be held gold and silver and things of worth, and a shield. The Honour of Grimbattle. And in ice we will hold all, while ye of swift wing will take this my binding stone and unlock my hoard, for I will tell thee of it, and thou wilt bring it to this place. And it will be piled within for I shall have no need of it. And the shield of Grimbattle will be placed in that piling. And then the door will be closed, and the ice will of a time melt and the water pass and the drakes within? will be within. For the primal shield I will hold till that which must be has been. And that holding will take what power remains to me, and then? And then there will be no then for Banakar, nobody and nithing ever.? And with never a word to explain how and why the door would be opened, or how it knew of the shield it spoke of, Banakar took wing and dropped to the canyon floor. And naught remained save to make ready as it had spoken. And when it stood before the door, Banakar spoke. ? I fell and was judged fallen. By The Five was I judged. I was cast forth to seek, and I have found. Open the rock, invisible ones, for I am come to speak of my seeking!? And of a time, the rock swung open, but only a small way, and a drake voice spoke. ? Why do ye stand here, fallen? Ye would reveal us to any who mark thee, and the Clan be ill served and by thine Oath ye serve the voice of the Clan! Leave this place by word of the Clan!? ? I stand, invisible ones and mine Oath burns me not. For it binds me to seek and I have sought. And the voice of the clan is not invisible, but drakonel and ye be invisible. And thy presence crosses my seeking and I must seek. So open that we may speak of it?? And, though Altharion felt terror at Banakar?s seeming bond with Mordin?s get, the rock swung open. And even as it did, Altharion felt the canyon grow silent to the primal call, even as Banakar had spoken. And Banakar leapt forward and took the crystal from the rock, and seeing the drakes within fell on it. And rousing, Altharion leapt forth with those that followed his Flame and gales and storm and ice were made. And at the back of the cave lay the two drakes, bound in cold and bound in prime and Banakr lay dying. ? Fly swift, for only as I live may my hoard be found. Take the binding stone and bring that ye find to this place?? The voice grew thinner even as it spoke. And drakes sprang forth and flew as they had never flown and all that was Banakar?s was brought there. And it was placed hard in the center of the cave, while ever drakes cast magery of ice and binding that the two bound be not freed. And ever the shield of prime held, while Banakar faded further. And at Banakar?s word, did Altharion step forth to the cave and find the shield of Grimbattle. And a thing of rare hoard it would be to enrich any drake, but it was placed in the gold and silver and mithril and other things of wealth that lay in the cave. And Banakar smiled. ? There will come a time, Altharion, that this place must be found. And I charge thee that it be the envoy, Bori of clan Grimbattle that find it. When the time comes, let the stone be found by him, and let no drake be seen in that finding. For this is a thing. The hoard within this place would take long and long and longer yet to build. So these rogue draku must have been apart from their Treaty bound kind long and longer in their lawlessness, no? And thus no Treaty clan be guilty of hiding them? and the Honour of dragon not be sullied. And of the Clan? naught need be spoken.? And Banakar rose slowly on bones that were broken and wings that were torn and it took the crystal and set it in the outer mark on the rock. And the rock swung slowly closed. And the winds ceased and the ice storms ceased and all was quiet. For the primal shield held. ? Now take ye thine from this place. I shall do what must be done for as long as it must be done. And when it be done, ye shall know.? And when Altharion would have questioned it about Clan and Oath and binding, Banakar set down and seemed to sleep. And in sleeping it once more became as a pile of faintly blue rock. And no word did it speak. And Altharion and Maladrien and Gorlith and those who held them first in faith, they took themselves away. And without any word being spoken, all knew no word of this they would ever speak. Save Altharion? And when they came again to Dralk, Altharion took him to the place of the clutch mothers. And it went to them, and of Banakar it asked. But none made answer. And after many days of asking, one stepped forth. ?The Oathbound Stone be two in one. The Oathbound Stone will ever come. Till Five shall Feast and Truth be spoken, till one is two and Oath be broken.? And no other word would any say. And of a time and a time and a time, on a night of storm when lightning rended the skies, the winds spoke to Altharion. ? That which must be done is done. Guard well the stone, Altharion clan drakonel. And know this. Mine Oath forbids me bind to any clan. But did it not, thy clan and thy Flame would have sat most well in my heart. Now I go to the mountain. Seek not for Banakar. She is no more and I must follow her? And if any would weep, weep not. Nobody and nothing I be, ever. But in this doing, for but a wingbeat, I was bright, if but for a moment. So bright?? And the voice was gone.

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