Days passed after that night that will live in our memories. Sjud kept telling stories, but this time we believed them. The stories go from simple ones, like the time he was robbed, but turned the tables and robbed the robber, to weird ones, like the time he saw a moving mountain.
But the important part is not that. Not even close. The important part is that there was a terrible infestation of bandits – very, very greedy dwarves – near Qhalkwån, and that was bad for trading with other cities and for the poor farmers who lived nearby, so the obvious decision was made, and soldiers were sent out to take care of such trouble. And I, of course was part of the expedition. Unfortunately Rhanorh stayed in the garrison, so I was without any close friends in this journey.
We departed at dawn, a total of 560 soldiers, though we went our separate ways. Usually, dwarves go to battle wielding tower shields and pikes, but our groups were too small for using those effectively, so we instead brought with us round shields and smaller weapons, like hammers, maces, axes, war picks and swords. Our armor was the best of our time, not that that means much, it was a chainmail hauberk that reached our knees, covered with crude plates of armor. As for helmets, close to no one had one; it was a piece used mostly by officers.
My group was heading north, thankfully, towards a region that wouldn’t freeze as much, where lakes weren’t frozen. I guess it was a small pleasure in all this. It took longer than I thought it would for us to reach our destination, but we did, and were welcomed by the small village. We spent almost a week stationed there while scouts searched for the bandit hideout. Each soldier did what they felt like doing meanwhile, some helped in the farms, others helped in repairs and constructions. I went fishing. On our first day there, I had overheard some locals talking about shadows in the nearby river, so, like any decent dwarf, I got curious.
It was in the fourth day that I saw said shadow; it was long, about two meters long, but what really caught my attention was the fact that it had arms. “You could say that fish is armed” I giggled. But I didn’t see it again after that.
The hideout was finally found by the scouts. It was in an abandoned mine up river, which meant even more marching. I was part of a group of 70 dwarves, who marched on the rhythm of a song which the lyrics I didn’t know. Though we were about to enter combat, the mood was cheerful, after all, it was the first time troops from Qhalkån would do anything other than stare the horizon from the walls or patrol the streets.
We arrived at the hideout in the evening, though we did not find what we expected. We found bolts. “Feathered sticks of death”, as Ranorh would call them. And I agree with this nickname, except the “death” part. I think that “mind numbing pain” would fit it better, because I can say, for sure, it hurts. A lot. One of those damned sticks in the abdomen. The so called “best armor of our time” did nothing, except crack and break. And just like that I saw as much combat as Rhanorh, who probably had a square ass from sleeping on duty while sitting in stool. Except that while he slept, I rolled down a small slope with a bolt stuck on me.
I woke up in a cave. A cave. “How did I get in a cave?” There is no way I rolled from the hideout all the way to a cave. “And why does my head hurt. I know why my stomach hurts, but why my head?” I looked down to my wound and found my broken plates and pierced hauberk had been removed, and the wound healed. Looking around, noticed something interesting: the spring of the river we had followed, the river I had fished in, the one I saw the shadow (which, by the way, I named Tronka[1]).
And, lo and behold, there it was. Tronka was there, staring at me with a look of awe, and so did I. Tronka was something I had never seen before, the closest thing to it were the harpies, or their body. It looked like a harpy had been fused with a fish. It had fins on its arms, and membranes between its fingers. It had scales all over its body, fins like ears, and gills on the sides of its abdomen. The hair was short, reaching only the shoulders, and black with a touch of navy blue, though I couldn’t tell whether it was wavy or straight. That was what I could see, because the lower half of its body was submersed in the river.
“Did you help me?” I asked, only to be ignored. I then pointed to the wound and then to Tronka, receiving a cheerful smile and an overly energetic nod. “Thanks” I said as I got up on my feet. That previous cheerfulness disappeared, and Tronka hid in the river when I got angry, even though it was at me. Tronka had just its eyes out of the water and was staring at me while I lamented the fact that I lost my favorite war pick and my shield. Rhanorh would laugh at me for a good time, and that annoyed me even more.
I put my hauberk back on, but decided to not take the plates, they would only be annoying. Knowing that Tronka wouldn’t understand me, I started to think how I could repay the favor. I spent a good while trying to think how to do the gestures, and eventually I sat beside the spring. Tronka approached me and started to inspect me, poking and pinching my clothes and accessories. Eventually, something caught its attention: my bracelet. A piece of gold encrusted with onyxes. Tronka reached for it, and I took it off and handed it to it. It looked at it, inspecting every nook and corner of it. It then put it on its wrist, but it was too loose, and almost fell in the water. “No, put it a bit up, like this.” I hold Tronka’s hand and slipped it all the way up to its upper arm, having to bend its fin to be able to pass. Tronka then gave me the brightest smile I’ve ever seen, then submerged and vanished with its newly acquired accessory.
I then made my way back to the village down the stream, wondering what had happened with the rest of the company. I also wanted to know how long I was in that cave, because my wound had been healed completely, leaving only a scar. I wasn’t even feeling any pain. I couldn’t believe it! I even punched myself a few times to check, and there really wasn’t any pain.
I reached the village late at night, so there was not a single soul in the streets to notice my arrival. I looked around, looking into buildings, trying to find the rest of the soldiers, but found nothing but sleeping locals. Eventually I sit in a log beside a house and fall asleep. I’m not sure what I dreamed about, but Tronka was there.
A youngling woke me up carefully, poking my shoulder and calling me: “Wake up, soldier. Are you dead?”
“Let the soldier sleep! Have some respect!” some older villager shouted from a distance.
I slowly wake up and look around. The village was already awake for a while and everyone already was working. I get up and ask the first villager I saw about the company.
“They returned yesterday, but didn’t wait any longer and marched back to Qhalkwån.” And so I thanked the villager and started my slow, boring, lonely journey back to the city.
When I arrived, Rhanorh was the first one to greet me, and I swear, he was so close to crying. “You bastard! I thought you had died!” he hugged me like Sjud hugs his costumers, which was very unfortunate, because Sjud was right behind him, and it was his turn to greet me. “What happened? You usually are early! What held you up?” I felt sorry for the bear that wrestled with him.
“A bolt! A damned bolt hit be before combat!” the two of them laughed as if they were way too drunk.
“A stick!” Rhanorh laughed even harder “A stick! Do you not know what a shield is? Where is your shield?!”
“I lost it.” They never laughed so hard in their lives. “And my pick.” It just kept getting better and better for them.
“Show us the wound.” Sjud was way too excited about a wounded friend. As I held up my hauberk and my undershirt, Sjud was astonished. “What?! It’s already healed! How?” both of them had stopped laughing and where waiting for the explanation.
We were walking towards Sjud’s tavern as I started to tell the story of how I rolled down the slope, passed out and woke up in a cave. I told them about Tronka and how I gave it my bracelet. Even Sjud had difficulty accepting this weird tale, even though I left out the part where, every time I sleep, Tronka is in my dreams.
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