With Rorik Steelskull and his crew headed out for the site of the burning village, Dremnin turned back to offer his assistance in defending the Reach in the unlikely event it was to be attack. He first checked on Hannah at the Widow Runa’s, and told her what had happened, He then told her to stay put and follow the widow’s orders, as she was there to protect the children.
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In order to make the most of Thorin’s invitation to take what they wanted from the Kaer’s Armory, Dremnin and Hannah walked through the passages of the ancient Kaer with the Tail Dancer Skram, until the little group came to the room they had been unable to access when they had first arrived. It seemed as though it has been eons ago in time, yet it had only been a matter of a few days. This was in fact a welcome break from the celebrating for the devotees of Floranuus, and would serve a worthwhile purpose in the inevitable event that they would face melee combat at some point after they left the Kaer.
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I’ve started this log to practice my writing skills, and to keep a written record of my life.
Whether the trolls can and will appreciate my candor remains to be seen. If this happens to be found and read by those to whom it does not belong, may you live in interesting times.
Where to start? At the beginning, at the end? Or just with what’s on my mind as of late…
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All my life I’ve been a slave. Nearly as far back as I can ever remember, my life has been about serving others. It’s never mattered whether I wanted to, it’s just how it was.
First they kidnapped me when I was five, and tried to apprentice me to a wizard. He treated me about as fairly as expected, but eventually my talents as a spy (nobody suspects the children, they never do…) shone through, and that is what I was put to work doing. Reading lips, running errands, serving food at parties, all of it to gather information to report back to my masters. As I grew older they felt I needed a better excuse, and I was apprenticed to a troubadour. From then on I slid through the crowds at parties reciting poetry while reading lips, and I navigated the streets in a different costume while running errands for the wizard. Each day I would assume one of a random scattering of personae, each with their own dress style, their own quirks, their own sayings based on what I’d picked up in the city.
And then, much like the day I was pressed into slavery, everything changed for the worse. A creak alerted me to the intruder’s presence. I’d fought off enough of the serving boys in the house to keep my wits and a heavy night pail within reach of the bed. Sitting bolt upright I swung the pail overhand and unleashed foul hell upon my visitor. Everyone established in the house had been trained to knock long ago. As he grunted and fell to the floor I bolted out the door of my room only to be tackled, bagged, and beaten.
When I awoke… A mine full of slaves greeted me. Shortly after that, a mine full of the dead…and undead.
This just keeps getting worse…
It was a cold, windy day at the Reach when our party returned from a patrol of the peaks in the North. There were a dozen of us, all riding mounts, carrying shields, and covered head to toe with fur and steel. We were cavalrymen, warriors, and other soldiers, riding our massive mounts while our spears glinted in the fading sun. We were a sight that would make a horde of ork cavalrymen check. I was riding Smoke, my Crest Wolf. My brother Elgorn was beside me, also riding on his wolf, an extraordinarily large beast with a bluish tint to his fur, named Bolt. We were plodding back into the village, with pride. If the Sky Raiders were the kings of the sky, we were the kings of the mountain. As we were coming into town, we were approaching Farnis Longknife, with his newots, the dwarf Urgral and the boy, Wheeler. I knew the boy well, for he had been a part of the group of assassins my uncle had sent to kill me. I killed their leader and many of his men. The rest were killed by the clan. Yet the boy lived, as well as Tekil, an older warrior who, in spite of his attempt on my life, I had grown to like.
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After a long five day stint in the mountains with Jorund in search of Wyvern nests, Dremnin arrived back at the Reach dirty, tired and looking forward to seeing Hannah, and sleeping in his own moot-home. But first, Jorund had invited him for a drink in the village tavern, known as the Watering Hole. A tavern that was run by dwarves, but had good troll brewed mead, dwarven ale, and of course, skoad.
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Following the battle and the trials of the Truth Stone, the various name-givers that were accepted into the clan were shipped off to different locations to start working for the clan. My household received one of the newots, the short dwarf named Fafnir. We were all glad to have a new newot, especially Honus and I. The menial tasks of the home (those not handled by the women) had been falling to Honus and I, due to the fact that we were the youngest. With Fafnir now in the home, those tasks now fell to him.
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A few days after all of the Unchained were accepted by the Steelskull clan and made into honorable newots, an opportunity presented itself for all of them to attend a special gathering.
Each week, on the last day of the week, Sunday, all newots and townsfolk are essentially given the day off. The only exception to this concerned the warriors and skyraiders who are needed to patrol the skies and territories of the moot. Most use this time is used by the clan for recreation or socializing. After arriving home the evening before his much needed day off, the human scout Dremnin received a knock on the cabin door. It was Fafnir, the dwarven travelled scholar, calling at the home of the scout’s adopted troll family. Fafnir passed along a friendly greeting and then said, “My adopted clan brother, Stilicho Alaricson, would like to meet with you and the other Unchained for dinner tomorrow to help you all get better acclimated to the clan. He has been a great help to me so far, so I think it would be wise to go. He would like you to be at the home of his adopted family, the household of Rorik Steelskull, an hour before sunset. There we can all dine with Tago and Rorik Steelskull and some of his family, and then have some Skoad on the balcony. Will you attend this dinner, my friend?"
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After Ardor and I agreed to trade my training of Great Leap for him training me to swim, we set days to train. I would train him after supper, and he would train me in the morning before work. The first day, Ardor was waiting down at the fishing dock, lying in a hung net like a hammock. Stripped down to his shorts, the sunlight shining off his blue skinned body. He looked totally relaxed, maybe even asleep. As soon as I stepped on to the first board of the dock, the head fin of Ardor rose about 2 inches. He opened his eyes and looked back over his shoulder and said, “Lord Stilicho I’m glad to see you made it. I know the water can be a scary place to name givers that do not know how to swim.”
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I decided after the battle on the top of the mountain and watching Korack leap over the cart that this was an ability that I wanted to learn. I asked Partakkis if she knew how to perform the great leap. She laughed at me and said that she was a Tail dancer not a Skyraider. The only skyraiders that I knew in the village were village leaders or Korack. There was no way I was going to ask him for anything.
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