Blade of Erogrund

Godric stood dumbfounded, his mind racing in a desperate attempt to process all that had happened in the course of only a couple minutes. The events of the previous moments spun like a thousand leaves blown away in an autumn wind, but after a while he finally started to get a grip on what had occurred.

What did I just do? He thought

He first looked down to where the gorgeous sword lie in the ashy dust, still glowing faintly on the bloody mound of the Dragon’s foot where it had fallen before glancing to check on Mira.

The young girl was leaning against the scorched remnants of the tower, her hands, which had turned a ghostly pale, were clasped over her gaping mouth. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly to the space where the massive, looming monster of a Dragon had hovered just a short time before.

Both were utterly silent, seemingly unable to move at the horror that had just unfolded.

It was not long before the armored forms of Thain and Ennor hiked into the ruins, both with their weapons raised, presumably out of alarm for the sounds of destruction they had heard. From the other direction Sarah also stepped subtly into the area with an arrow notched on her bow. They stopped upon seeing the signs of the recent encounter, namely the pool of blood and scorched ruins of the stone tower.

Ennor lowered his sword after seeing them and jogged over to where they stood. “What happened here? Are you hurt?” His voice was filled with a mixture of concern and fury and his eyes scanned the area under a furrowed brow, taking in the flaming tower and the lack of the wolf. “Where is Narn?”

Godric wordlessly pointed to the heap of rubble that had buried the wolf a short time ago. Ennor gave them one final look-over before running to the mountain of stone to uncover the companion. Thain helped him anxiously but constantly shot both Godric and Mira strange looks.

It was not long before they had uncovered the wolf, though it was unconscious under the bricks. For the most part it appeared largely unhurt other than its obviously broken left leg. Ennor slung the unconscious wolf over his shoulder and carried him to where the two friends stood, gradually recovering. The man gently set the dog on its side, removed his pack, and began tending to the creature’s injuries. All this was done in the utmost silence.

Finally Thain rested his hammer’s head on the ground and leaned against its handle.

“Well?” He grumbled. “Are you going to tell us or shall we beat it out of you?”

Godric squinted at him in confusion. “Excuse me?” His voice was raspy with shock. “Beat what out of us?”

The dwarf pointed to the pool of blood that had oozed out of the immense, severed limb. Several black scales floated in the viscous fluid like islands in a demonic ocean. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a Dragon limb in your shadow and I - ” Ennor shot him a glance, ” - we - would like to know how it got there.”

Godric and Mira met each other’s eyes, but said nothing.

As this exchanged went on, Sarah stepped over the surrounding rubble to their right and made her way to Thain’s side, looking at everything with wide eyes but not uttering a word.

With the dense silence lingering awkwardly, Ennor stood and seemed to flash from the wolf to Godric’s side. His muscular forearm slammed against the boy’s chest, forcing him against the stones behind. Using his height as an advantage, the man bent over Godric’s face and lowered his burning eyes, releasing a scathing glare that successfully oppressed the boy’s conscience.

“No more games, boy. This is no laughing matter.” With his other hand, the man pointed stonily to the limb that lie bleeding in the dust as his teeth gritted furiously. “The beast that lost such a limb is no creature you should ever have encountered, fought, or least of all injured. It is a demon more than capable of destroy us all, so I ask you again, how - did - you - do it?”

Godric subconsciously looked toward the sword. It lay on the ground beside the leg at such an angle that it was unseen by any of the company. Something in his mind told him that he should say nothing of it, but reason took over and he whispered, “The sword.” He half-heartedly pointed to where the blade sat.

Ennor gave him a curious look, but noticed that the scabbard in Godric’s belt was empty and a look of intense worry overcame his eyes, spreading even into the wrinkles of his face. “Sarah,” He whispered. “Check the sword.”

The elf lowered her bow and skipped over the wreckage to where Godric had pointed. Upon reaching the spot, she stopped. Raising one hand to her mouth, the other touched each eyelid and slashed over her brow in a ancient elvish sign of warding off evil. When she drew her hand from her mouth, her face was as flush of color as Mira’s. Her eyes went from the sword to Ennor.

“It’s Erogrund. The boy wielded the sword.”