Draugur’s Tale (Part V)
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. And this, dearest of dear readers, is its exciting conclusion!
It may also make more sense if you start at the Beginning. Or, you might also be wanting to read last weeks episode, Part IV? – DPA
Draugur turned his axe just in time to catch Kaltgier’s magic blast. Already straddling both halves of Kaltgier’s sundered desk, the blast knocked Draugur off balance, even as he saw Kaltgier readying another spell. He lept aside just in time, throwing his Great Axe aside as he did. It’s head had warped and twisted into an unrecognizable lump of metal. It shattered when it hit the floor, the pieces of which scattered into the shadows.
Glad me Greatdad had a gift Dispel Magic runes, Draugur thought, even as he pulled a pair of smaller axes from their half hidden harness. He squatted briefly before leaping back. The hairs on the back of his head bristled and he leaped again, and then blindly rolled towards the door. There were three, blackened circles on the floor where he had just been. The last was still smoking.
“You’re a quick one, Master Dwarf. I should have killed you six times over by now”
“So soon? Without even knowing me Master’s dying words?”
Draugur had the satisfaction of watching Kaltgier hesitate, the opening he was looking for. Both of his axes were hurling at Kaltgier almost instantly. Kaltgier dodged the first, but left himself open to the second in the process, taking the axe just below the arm. Kaltgier scoffed before tossing the axe aside.
“It’ll take far more than that Mr. Dwa-”
“Oi! What was that?” Draugur asked holding his hand to his ear and laughing.
“It’ll… It’ll take… I-” Kaltgier collapsed to the floor.
“Good poison, eh? Got it from a clever Elf a fortnight ago. Ye won’t be paralyzed more than an hour or so, but that’ll be time enough I’m sure.”
Draugur propped Kaltgier’s body up against the desk, and grimly smiled at him, face to face. He took out an obsidian knife and brandished it in front of Kaltgier’s face, satisfied to see the Crime Lord’s eyes grow even wider.
“This, Kaltgier, is a blood knife. Ye see, after ya brutes cast me so readily aside I decided I’d never, NEVER, allow the like to happen again. So I went to the Fighter’s Guild and made it me calling. It was a nasty, brutish couple years, but I was the oldest Dwarf who’s ever survived it.
“The last test was to endure a Moon in the Havoc Wild with nae with ye, but what ye was born with. So ye make a knife with what you can, like obsidian. But ye cannae wrap its handle in leather until you use it to get some. So ye baptize it with ye own blood.
“I save it for only special occasions now. Ye should be honored. And now, Kaltgier, ye should really know me Master’s last words. In fact, I insist. I’d hate for ye to die without knowing.” Draugur said as he slashed Kaltgier’s abdomen with the razor sharp stone.