Draugur’s Tale (Part III)
D. Paul Angel
432 Words

My stepson is on a bit of Dungeons & Dragons kick, and is wanting to take us through a dungeon in the future. I created my character, a rather capable (I hope!) dwarf whom you shall be introduced to below, as a way of creating his background. It is also a way for me to play with writing serialized High Fantasy, in all of its troptastic glory.
It may also make more sense if you start at the Beginning. May. Or, perhaps, you’re looking for Part II?– DPA

Draugur stared at Kaltgier from across the Underlord’s massive desk. It dominated an otherwise huge room, and seemed to have been carved from the stump of a single, Great Tree. Kaltgier sat near its center, though the smooth, round surface extended some five yards in 270 degrees around him. Tapestries showing the hunting of exotic creatures hung from the walls, and dozens of wrought stands held hundreds of candles to provide light in the windowless room. Throw in some half a dozen guards, that he could see, and Draugur knew the audience he had sought had quickly turned into a very well furnished trap.

There are two ways to deal with a trap, he thought while running his hand along the haft of the axe in his lap, you either avoid it. Or you spring it.

“I understand you wanted to see me?” Kaltgier asked, steepling his and looking down his nose at Draugur.

“Aye, but, as a preliminary, I thought you’d be wantin’ your signet ring back. Bloody mess losing one of those, in’t?”

Kaltgier’s wry smile froze as the heavy ring arched its way to him. He snatched the heavy, gold ring from the air and inspected it closely. He rolled it across his palms several times before deftly secreting it into a pocket hidden amongst the layers of his silken finery. “A nice piece of work, I’d think. But, you have a practiced eye then, don’t you Master Dwarf?”

“More than most, less than some,” Draugur replied, shifting slightly to center his balance as he began walking towards the trap. He knew this would take all of his strength, dexterity, and luck, but 222 was a rather elegant age to die at too. Even if it is a bit on the younger side.

“I’d rather tell my tale in private, if’n you wouldna mind?” he politely asked Kaltgier.

Kaltgier’s wolfish smile returned as he grandly gestured towards them, “I assure you Master Dwarf, my men are loyal, and will not repeat anything said here.”

Draugur nodded as though considering before heaving the Great Axe on his lap straight up with a grunt. Even as it peaked just shy of the stone ceiling Draugur was up with a throwing axe in both hands letting fly towards the stunned guards by the door. Two more axes followed, finding their targets too before Draugur caught the Great Axe at the ready. His dwarven yell echoed through the room as he made quick work of the last guards. Their comrades bodies fouling their footing- and their courage.

“An’ I believe ye Kaltgier. Now.”

Continue on to Part IV