Blade of Erogrund

A rough hand shook Godric’s shoulder, jolting him awake suddenly. With a sharp flash of pain, he felt the top of his head connect with someone’s jaw.

"Niron, lad!” Thain stumbled away from where the drowsy boy lie. “Next time give a bit of a warning, won’t you?” The dwarf tenderly massaged his chin.

Godric sat up and mumbled a half-hearted apology. He clung tightly to the thick cowl Ennor had given him, drawing it farther around his shoulders. The brisk morning air seemed to sting his bare skin even beneath his shirt as he glanced around the make-shift camp.

The wolf was still pacing back and forth in front of what looked to be the coals of the previous night’s fire while Ennor rolled up his bedroll and loaded his pack. Thain was drinking some foul-looking green concoction which, judging by the veritable greenhouse of wilted leaves that lay strewn around the fire area, was some kind of herbal tea. Sarah was nowhere in sight.

Grunting as a sharp stone jabbed him in the side, Godric turned over to see where Mira was. Or, rather, should have been.

“Where is Mira?!” He leaped to his feet, flashes of the conversation he had picked up on the previous night striking through his mind, particularly the parts about leaving the two of them behind.

Ennor glanced casually up at him. “Sarah took her down to the spring over yonder,” He said, waving a hand toward the east of the camp. “Sarah wanted to clean up a bit and the girl figured that she would too, while the opportunity presented itself.”

Godric inspected the young man’s face for signs of deceit but, apparently finding none, turned to pick up his cloak from where it had fallen. His sword protruded awkwardly from behind him, pushing the back of the coat up from where it normally should have fallen, but he ignored it with a shrug. His breath came in misty puffs as his hands worked to tie the knots.

“Hellstorm, it’s cold.”

Thain nodded, the expanse of his facial hair following suit. “Aye, that it is.” Ennor said nothing.

The dwarf took another long drought of his tea before setting the flask down on a crude stone and gestured to where Godric’s sword remained visible. “That reminds me, lad. You dropped this in Dunn after Narn almost turned you into mince meat.” The stocky man chuckled and reached into his ragged pack, pulling out the silver dagger and sheath that Godric had dropped when he was struggling with the wolf. “It is a fine quality weapon to be sure and I know you would hate to have to part with it.”

The boy took the dagger with a nod of thanks and hastily strapped it to his waist, but had trouble with the icy metal buckle. Hiis dwarf companion appeared to notice.

“Here, have a dowse of this. It will warm your hands and put a fire in your heart.” Thain handed the boy a steaming mug of tea that he took reluctantly.

As soon as he touched it, however, warmth spread from the cup and blossomed from his fingers into his hands. Eyeing it carefully, he inspected the contents of the flask. It was by far the strangest looking tea he had ever seen. The consistency appeared thick, almost like gravy except a minty green color, with flakes of dried leaves and peculiar lumps that rippled across its surface like marbles. Good gracious....

“Umm.... Are you sure about this?” He asked, his doubt obviously showing through. Thain cackled with laughter.

“Aye. Good stuff that.” The dwarf took a long, slurping drink, streams of the frothy liquid oozing down his beard as he did so.

With more than a few reservations, the boy raised the grizzly looking broth to his lips and tasted a sip of it. A wave of immediate regret radiated like the heat from the drink, flashing form his taste buds down his throat. The harsh tea was the most bitter thing he had ever had the misfortune to taste, which was followed by a residual spicy, grainy substance that coated his mouth like foul-tasting sand.

Godric doubled over and spewed a stream of the green slime out of his mouth. Falling to his knees he dropped the flagon and retched, desperately trying to erase the repulsive flavor that seemed determined to linger in his mouth.

Thain reeled with booming laughter and staggered away, still holding his mostly empty flask. Even Ennor cracked a small smile at the sight of the boy kneeling on his hands and knees.

As he was reeling from the sensory devastation, Sarah and Mira, who was still ringing out her wet hair, lumbered into the campsite.

The elf woman raised a narrow eyebrow at the sight of Godric on all fours, still coughing.

“Is everything okay here?” She shot a look at Thain, who was wiping tears of laughter out of his eyes. “You didn’t poison him, did you?”

The dwarf chuckled again. “Nah, although I’m sure he feels like I did.” He slapped his leg jollily. Even Narn drew back a jowl as though he was grinning in his own way.

Ennor hefted his pack. “If the comedy is over, we should move. Threst isn’t far from here, but the sooner we get there the better.” Sarah readjusted her pack and Thain reluctantly emptied his flask onto the ground and wiped it out with a filthy rag before sticking it in his pack. The small troop followed Ennor and Narn as they made their way through the trees.

As soon as Thain and Sarah had made it a little ways ahead, Godric fell back in step with Mira. The spring looked to have done her good; her face was bright and clean and her hair was once again a radiant red. She smiled at him as he hung back with her.

“Good morning.”

Her cheerfulness took him slightly by surprise, especially considering the situation they were in.

“Good morning,” Godric answered, trying his best at a smile. “I take it you slept well?”

Mira nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, quite well, although I woke several times this morning for some reason. Either way, I feel much better for it.”

“And Sarah was alright? She didn’t hurt you or anything?”

She looked at him strangely. “Yes, of course.” Pulling her hood up over her damp hair, Mira grinned. “In fact, she’s actually quite sweet. A little odd perhaps, but then again, she is an elf.” Mira’s eyes lit up as, Godric assumed, she remembered the conversation she and Sarah had. Her face almost immediately changed to a look of confusion. “Wait, what makes you think she would hurt me?”

Godric glanced toward where Thain and the others were walking ahead of them. Narn turned to eye him warily, but continued to walk in pace with Ennor. The boy lowered his voice to a whisper and briefly recapped the conversation he had overheard the previous night. Mira took it in silently until he was finished.

“So they are more than common robbers,” Mira concluded.

“Or so they believe,” Godric answered.

“But Thain did return your dagger, so they can’t wish us too much harm, right?”

Godric shrugged. “All I know is that there is more going on than meets the eye. They are definitely hiding something. Something important. Either way, we can’t trust them. Not until we know what’s really going on.”

Mira hesitated, brushing a stray strand of red hair off her cheek, before nodding in agreement. She rubbed her forehead with her thumb, the way she used to when she was focusing on something.

“What’s wrong?”

“That song,” She murmured. “I could have sworn I’d heard it before, or something like it. The words just sound so familiar.”

Their conversation was interrupted as Ennor raised a hand to halt the group.

They had reached the edge of the trees.

Unlike in Dunn where the forest slowly thinned into fields, the massive Elderwoods abruptly stopped, giving way to a flat plateau where the city of Threst stood. The great stone walls were arranged in a circle around a high hill that was easily several miles around. Immense towers were set at common intervals in the masonry, giving view to all the surround grass and forest. A tall, narrow keep stood at the center of the city, stretching a short ways above its smaller companions. In all, the city of Threst was easily four times as large as Dunn and many times more impressive.

Or, rather, it had been.

The structure of the city was only just visible through the dense curtains of flame that billowed like a shroud in the wind over it. Much of the wall had been ripped down and all but several of the towers were only bare skeletons of what they once had been. The keep was only building that looked to have been largely untouched, but flames still licked its fortified walls, speaking its eventual doom. Unlike in Dunn, the city still blazed brightly in the morning light.

Ennor swore an oath and drew his colossal broadsword.

“Thain,” He whispered in a stern voice.

The dwarf seemed to understand and raised a hand to his face. His heavy fingers lightly traced the intricate tattoos that covered his cheeks. The ink seemed to darken and writhe at his touch, growing clearer and almost alive. Within seconds the art had formed a shape of its own; it had formed a mighty steel helmet that encased much of the warrior’s head with thick cheek guards that extended over his face and a sizable crest that trailed from his foreplate over his brow all the way down to his neckpiece. The elegant designs of the former art remained in the strong metal, giving an overall terrifying look to the short fighter.

Narn lowered his face to the ground and perked his ears up, his eyes searching the surroundings thoroughly as the group made its way to the shattered threshold of Threst’s main gate.

Smoke wafted thickly in billowing black clouds from the devouring flames, mixing with the arctic air that made Godric nearly choke. All the grasses were brown and wilted leading up to the city, causing the ground to crunch with every step. The two trees that framed the once-large gate were blackened and snapped in many places, arching threateningly over the threshold of the city.

Once inside the gate, Ennor led them to the nearest tower, which happened to be one of the precious few that remained semi-in-tact. Broken streets extended in wide paths around the perimeter of the wall as wall as a wider route that looked to lead to the center of the city, but was blocked in many places by rubble.

Ennor checked that all were ready and that Godric and Mira still stood in the rear of the group.

“The city has been attacked within the hour,” He murmured over the crackling flames. “The Dragon is still likely in the area. Thain,” He said, gesturing to the dwarf, “you and I will search the western half for signs of the demon. Sarah, can you make your way to the eastern gate and see that it does not idle in the ruins?” The elf nodded silently. “Good. Narn, watch these two,” looking to Godric and Mira. “Stay here and lay low. The beast has likely moved on, but if it remains, seek cover and, above all, do not seek to fight it.”

Godric and Mira nodded their understanding as their companions divided, stepping quietly down the ruined streets out toward their selected paths.

The black wolf eyed both of them suspiciously, but paced steadily in circles around the two of them and looked around at the destruction.

Godric opened his mouth to say something, but Narn shot him a glare and growled in a low voice, causing him to think better of it.

It had been almost an hour since Ennor, Thain, and Sarah had departed when Mira and Narn perked with alarm.

“Did you hear that?” Mira hissed.

Godric spun, searching frantically for what she had heard. “No, what?”

Narn moved closer to them as Mira whispered, “A hissing sound.” She pointed toward the keep. “That way...” It came again, but this time it was a loud slithering, like a thousand swords being drawn across stone all at once. The piles of wreckage blocked any clear view of the immense keep, but he was sure now that the sound was coming from there and was constantly growing in volume.

The black wolf turned to them, lowering its head to push them towards a crumbling tower. A sharp growl escaped its maw.

Godric’s ignored the the wolf as he watched a mountain of stone explode suddenly in a torrent of flame. Mira shrieked and scrambled toward the entrance of the tower, but Godric stood transfixed at the gigantic monstrosity that slithered toward them.

The beast was easily several hundred feet from tip of the horned snout to its arrow-shaped tail, every inch of it ripped with powerful muscles that were all out shadowed by two billowing wings that extended from its shoulders. Glistening scales lavished every inch of its well toned body, only accentuating its horrifyingly powerful frame. A wreath of cruel spikes crowned its narrow head, each narrowing to spear-like points. A thin plate of scale ran the length of its nose, separating its two piercingly yellow eyes that radiated such overwhelming fear that Godric was tempted to turn and flee. Massive legs supported the bulky body, each ending in five toes that were all marked by jagged talons. A fleet of spines protruded from its back that ran the length of its body, only increasing the monstrous size of its silhouette against the burning flames around it. But above all this that stood out to him was the sheer, midnight black of its scales that seemed to ripple silently with every movement making it appear as an unnatural mark on it surroundings.

The wolf bit his cloak and began fiercely pulling him toward the tower, but still Godric could not tear himself away from the cruel beauty of the monster as it stalked toward them in impossible silence. Finally Mira collected herself enough to clench his arm painfully, snapping him out of the fearful sight. She wordlessly yanked him toward the precarious stronghold of the tower as the Dragon continued to approach them.

Godric glanced back as they ran just in time to see the serpent raise its head and spewed a column of flame that hit the stone parapet, causing it to violently explode. A wave of heat blasted into him and Mira, sending them flying a short distance back. They landed heavily on the fractured cobblestone, knocking the wind out of them.

The Dragon swung its head toward them and gaped, its jaws opening to reveal row upon row of bone-white, jagged teeth, but Narn leaped into the air, clenching his teeth around the demon’s neck. With a shake of its head, the Dragon wrenched the poor wolf free and launched him into a pile of stone that collapsed on top of the creature. Not even a dent was present on the thick scale where Narn’s teeth had struck moments before.

Returning its glance to the two young companions, the Dragon bared its teeth once again and let out a terrifying growl that shook the ground and sent ash and stone falling from their places atop heaps of ruins.

Godric glanced around, desperate to find cover, but, alas, there was none. Even the mounds of wreckage were insufficient for them to hide behind. He reached for his dagger, but immediately stopped as he imagined its meager strength against the armored hide that loomed before him. Almost without thinking he instead grabbed the rag-covered hilt of his father’s sword. Mira screamed again and stumbled back as the Dragon lifted itself a short way off the ground, its wings fanning the flames that surrounded them.

The gigantic beast swooped toward them, a scaly claw reaching down for the boy. Instinctively he drew the leaf-shaped blade of the sword from its sheath and swung it in a deadly arc.

Godric gasped at both his sudden surge of courage and the beauty of the sword he wielded with such a sure hand. The expanse of the blade shone with a subtle blue glow and with the transparent grandeur of glass. Gold wrapped in elegant swirls from the cross-guard to the base of the blade where fine, though well aged, leather wrapped the hilt. The pommel was one large blue gemstone, revealed as the rags that had wrapped it fell away noiselessly. Silver light sparkled with crystalline patterns throughout the expanse of the weapon, radiating breathtaking power that seared through the Dragon’s black scales like a warm knife through butter.

The Dragon screamed with agony as ropes of silver blood spewed from the stub as the sword sheared through its leg. Godric stumbled back, still clutching the weapon in hand, his mind a daze. The Dragon soon recovered and hung above the ground, its wings propelling it above the blood-strewn stone street. Instead of attacking the monster contorted its face in a horrifying smile, revealing the extent of its harsh teeth. Its cruel eyes locked with the boy’s.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Godric gazed into the beast’s soul. Waves of emotion washed over him - fear and horror but also respect and awe. He was overcome by terror at the monster that was hovering before him, but at the same time he wished not to ever look away. It’s nobility and incredible awe seemed to capture his heart, despite a voice in the back of his mind that warned him of the beast’s wish to rip him to pieces. A booming voice seemed to echo through his skull and somehow he knew that the words were spoken and meant for only him.

So this is the one who wields the Sword! A pitiful hero of Men. Come forth, Champion of the Lost, and reclaim your glory.

Hissing laughter shattered the scene, wracking Godric’s mind. The boy stumbled backward, breaking his gaze with the Dragon, causing time to return to normal. The sword fell from his hand as he attempted to grasp the words that he had just heard. The Dragon again dove for him, but he was powerless against it.

From somewhere behind him he suddenly heard Mira scream once again, but this time there was only anger and desperation in her voice. She dropped the book and slammed her hands together. Blinding light flashed through Godric’s vision, immediately followed by a deafening clap of thunder.

As soon as his vision cleared, Godric saw the Dragon had fallen on the ground and had curls of smoke rolling off its chest. As Mira and Godric stood dumbfounded at all that had happened in the expanse of only a couple moments, the Dragon soared into the sky above the remains of the smoldering city, but its words shook Godric’s mind.

We will meet again, Little Hero.