The Gods of Dark Swell: The Western Realm Book 2

By David Dowell

The idol has been found.

As Brindel, Mortinan and Mendina make their way out of the plains, the fates of Kabir and Linf still look grim, while the purpose of the idol remains a mystery.

The Gods discussions intensify as their champions continue to be hunted by monsters born from nightmares, when suddenly the Creator appears before them again.

What he has to tell them will leave them all speechless.
A change none of the Gods saw coming, but a twist that will alter the game completely.

It is time for the Gods to playagain.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Sep 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543404050

David Dowell

David Dowell works full-time in Emergency Services in country Victoria, Australia. Inspired by a deep love of fantasy adventure, and an active participant of role-playing games when he was younger, Dowell has now penned the first three novels in his fantasy series `The Gods of Dark Swell'. “I have often imagined my own work propped up on my book shelf - right next to some epic fantasy series. I understand the need for a captivating and adventurous story, but in addition to that I wanted to create characters with real personalities that readers will grow to love or despise. The Gods of Dark Swell is as character driven as it is story driven, taking place in a world and concept unique in many ways to the fantasy genre.”

Book preview

Copyright © 2017 by David Dowell.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017914736

ISBN:      Hardcover            978-1-5434-0407-4

                Softcover             978-1-5434-0406-7

                eBook                  978-1-5434-0405-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 09/26/2017

Xlibris

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1 When Champions Collide

Chapter 2 The Next Clue

Chapter 3 One More Curve Ball

Chapter 4 Let The Game Begin. Again.

Chapter 5 Free To Choose

Chapter 6 Mayfield

Chapter 7 No Second Prize

Chapter 8 A Surprise For The King

Chapter 9 Another Adventurer?

Chapter 10 Rendezvous

Chapter 11 Dangerous Times

Chapter 12 Protect The Forest

Chapter 13 Prisoners

Chapter 14 Getting A Goblin To Talk

Chapter 15 To War

Chapter 16 The Protector Returns

Chapter 17 Which Way To Go?

Chapter 18 Time To Make A Move

Chapter 19 A New Princess

Chapter 20 Back To The Forest

Chapter 21 The Plains Have No Mercy

Chapter 22 Back To The Capital

Chapter 23 Time To Leave

Chapter 24 What To Do With The Goblin

Chapter 25 An Evil Shows Itself

Chapter 26 Welcome Home

Chapter 27 Re-Union

Chapter 28 The West Awakens

Chapter 29 A Bond Made In Blood

Chapter 30 A Test Of Skill

Chapter 31 There Is No More Time

Chapter 32 An Alliance Tested

Chapter 33 No Long Good-Byes

Chapter 34 Gone Too Soon

Chapter 35 Destination Known

Chapter 36 The Dwarven King

Chapter 37 Into The Eye

Chapter 38 In The Shadow Of The Mountain

Chapter 39 Parting Ways

Chapter 40 Torn

Chapter 41 Waiting For Someone

Chapter 42 It Is Time

Chapter 43 The Western Border

Chapter 44 More Is Needed

Chapter 45 A New Beginning

Chapter 46 The Storm Rod

Chapter 47 The Adventurer

Chapter 48 I Do What I Want

Chapter 49 To Save A Friend

Chapter 50 Good-Bye

Chapter 51 Sinister Intentions

Chapter 52 Can You Kill What You Cannot See?

Chapter 53 Don’t Tell Me What To Do

Chapter 54 Where To Now?

Chapter 55 Time To Move

Chapter 56 Time To Leave

Chapter 57 Friend Or Foe?

Chapter 58 Laid To Rest

Chapter 59 Companions

Chapter 60 A Stubborn Race

Chapter 61 A Perilous Journey

Chapter 62 A New Direction

Chapter 63 Feng

Chapter 64 A Hungry Goblin

Chapter 65 Heartening News

Chapter 66 Decisions Are Made

Chapter 67 Blood-Soaked Plains

Chapter 68 What Does A Barbarian Fear?

Chapter 69 Another Casualty?

Chapter 70 Making Friends

Chapter 71 The Future Queen

Chapter 72 None Left Behind

Chapter 73 Not Going To Happen

Chapter 74 Enlightened

Chapter 75 The Long Way

Chapter 76 Why Would He Say That?

Chapter 77 All Is Ready

PROLOGUE

How Did We Get Here?

T HE MOMENT THE Creator left, all eyes returned to the landscapes of the realm in which their Champions l ived.

Kabir looked upon his barbarian again, as his Champion still lay stricken on the hard ground. He did not know whether he would survive. The digging insects had inflicted horrific injuries.

Frustrated and downcast, he switched his eye to look at the Champions of his competitors.

All of the gamers could do this with just a single thought, as each individual eye was attuned to their respective minds. It made it easy to use and very efficient.

Kabir saw that Brindel, Mort and Mendina were beginning their journeys out of the plains, while Valdor was only now realising that his quest to find the idol was at an end.

Switching to Linf, he saw the goblin still travelled in the back of Brax’s cart. Her thoughts were the same nothingness as his own Champion as she remained unconscious.

His eye moved next to the highlands of his Eastern Realm, sweeping over villages and through caves, where unbeknownst to his Champion, fell creatures were beginning to show themselves. His home and those of his fellow highlander tribes, had no idea what was waiting for them in the wilderness of their homeland.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

Shaking his head, Kabir again switched views. This time he looked to a beach located in the far eastern reaches of his realm.

There was nothing happening here, other than the cries of sea birds and the waves sweeping themselves over the wet sand. Making himself more comfortable on his cushion, Kabir breathed out deeply.

It always relaxed him when he looked upon this part of Dark Swell.

The dark, repetitive sounds of the waves; as they beat down on the golden sands of the beach; always soothed his soul. They did so again, even now.

It was what Kabir needed to try and empty his mind of the stresses this game brought. At least for a short time.

As the calming sounds and sights began to work, he felt some of the stress wash away. Taking a deep breath, Kabir’s thoughts returned to how simple things had been at the beginning of the game. Looking at the beach, he smiled as he thought of the first time he was able to add to his realm.

The flora and fauna were not expensive, but they had been a crucial component for many parts of his realm.

The ‘spike-trees’ he had planted throughout the plains were a defence against those that would attack his highlands from the south, as were many of the animals and creatures he had put there.

At that time, he hadn’t contemplated planting anything other than flora and fauna. It would be hundreds of years later when he first thought to plant a seed of thought within those of his race to move into the plains. The thought that would not long after see many of his highland barbarians make the journey out of the high country and into the plains; to make themselves a new home there. They had proven themselves a formidable defence for the highlands.

Other defences had been placed around the highlands themselves, but at the spot where he now looked, there were none.

He hadn’t envisaged anything of consequence ever happening along his eastern coastline.

Within the readings given to them, it had been made clear early on that the dark waters of the ocean that encircled the land would be out of bounds. None of them would be able to use the ocean for any purpose.

The black waters of the Dark Swell were forbidden.

He suspected some of the others might have tested this theory; Mortinan especially; but he hadn’t wasted his time or his resources.

This wasn’t to say he hadn’t wasted his resources a little elsewhere.

At the place where he now looked, the trees lining the beach were exact replicas of those on his home world. He had grown up near the ocean and they helped remind him of that. It was a tiny piece of his own world; within the realm that had been given to him to do as he pleased.

Just because he was able to, he had given himself this small gift.

They grew close together and flowered all year round. Deep, crimson-coloured flowers bursting out from each small branch. It made it look like a wall surrounded the sands, shimmering as they swayed in the breeze. Although he couldn’t smell it, he could still remember the intoxicating fragrance they put forth. He would have given anything to be down there right now, instead of sitting in this clearing and looking at it from a distance.

He might as well be a million light years away.

Unfortunately Kabir found it difficult to relax for long, as his mind inevitably drifted back to thoughts of events that had brought him to this point.

So much had happened since the Naming Day, with his focus not only on his Champion and those of the others seated within the clearing with him, but on everything else that was happening within the world they played in.

The Creator was a mystery to them all, but Kabir knew he was beholden to try and work out exactly what this game was about.

What was the purpose behind the clues he gave to them? Was it simply to test the strength of their Champions, or was there another layer underneath he didn’t yet see?

What would the final task be and how would the game end?

Yet he suppressed these thoughts before his mind drifted again to the inevitable question.

What exactly was the prize at the end of it all?

It served no purpose to think about it and he very rarely speculated about it anymore.

The prize had been one topic they had all spoken about throughout the years prior to the Choosing Day, while they crafted their realms and grew their races. There had been so many opinions and thoughts put forward that he would struggle to remember even half of them now.

All of these questions were important, but they were for nothing if his Champion succumbed to his hurts. As his thoughts turned back to his barbarian, his eye looked upon him once more. How was he going to survive?

The burrowing insects had decimated his body to the extent that his injuries would have already killed many a lesser man.

Yet while he drew breath, Kabir would not give up on him.

He simply had to survive, and then somehow make his way to the ruined forest. It seemed so far away right now. A fanciful wish.

Staring at the black waters again, he wondered how it had all come to this.

All of those years spent studying the world of Dark Swell, followed by many more years playing it. He had learnt as much during his time playing, as he had reading about things in his small home in the village. Probably more.

With his eye showing only his own realm for so long, he knew it so intimately it felt like home to him.

The digging insects had been an early addition to the realm. He remembered thinking how fascinating they were when he selected them, and what a wonderful defence they would be. Almost impossible to defend against, they were a foe that would scare off many that thought to make the plains their home.

The irony that they could now be the reason for his Champion’s demise didn’t escape him.

Giving up on his efforts to relax, Kabir switched again to look at his Champion; at the barbarian that shared his name. A colossus among his own people, he now struggled to keep his mighty heart beating.

Kabir had seen his incredible potential when he was only young, and was excited that he would mature at the time of Naming.

He had concerns as the day had drawn closer, that he may still be too young to carry the mantle of Champion. Yet when his father gave him the sword and he left to become an adventurer, his decision had been made for him.

Whoever had the sword was always going to be his Champion.

Now he yearned for him to make it out of the plains alive. And if he did, he hoped fervently that he would head back to Deerstep before journeying on to the Ruined Forest.

It was crucial that he did.

Kabir’s final contribution to the game was a mighty one; and it waited for his Champion at his home.

It needed to be found.

Map.jpg

CHAPTER 1

When Champions Collide

H ERIDAH WAS SURPRISED to see anyone travelling between Havern and Shadow Hill, let alone a solitary old man perched on the front of a cart.

He was curious about who and what he was, but remained alert.

‘Be wary of this one,’ he said, as he looked across at Valdor.

Valdor looked back at him with a blank expression on his face before turning his attention back to the cart approaching them.

‘The horses he leads are exceptional,’ was all the monk said in response to Heridah’s words of caution.

As they drew closer, Heridah could see the cart was piled high with what appeared to be all of this man’s worldly possessions.

When they got within ten strides Heridah pulled up, both of his companions doing the same in unison.

The old man on the cart pulled back sharply on his reins, when it was clear that Heridah and the others weren’t going to ride straight past him.

Heridah was surprised to see the man had no weapons about his person and no kind of magic emanating from him or anything else on his person.

‘Well met,’ Heridah said to him.

‘Greetings to you also,’ the man replied with a friendly grin.

‘What compels you to travel during these times of peril?’ Heridah asked. He wasn’t usually so forward, but he was acutely aware of Valdor’s need for haste and so left the formalities at a quick greeting.

‘I am in the King’s employ and well overdue in reporting to him,’ Brax replied. He would not be offering anything further this time. He remembered well what that led to in Shadow Hill. Two King’s Shield also put him a little on edge. He would be happy if he never saw another one of them again.

Heridah paused. A King’s man? He realised he wasn’t privy to everything that went on in Dayhen’s realm, but this man wasn’t young and he had never seen him before.

‘What is your name?’ Heridah asked. ‘I don’t believe we’ve met before.’

Brax just wanted to be on his way, but could see this one was both curious and cautious, as he would expect most folk to be these days.

He decided to risk giving his name. No-one within the realm of men would remember it anyway. Except for one, and this man wasn’t him.

‘My name is Brax and I have been gone for a long time, but I return now with information for the King.’ He paused. ‘Not before time either,’ he added in a quiet voice.

Heridah looked closely at him now. This man intrigued him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made him nervous. The man had no weapons or obvious magical ability, yet travelled the road alone with all of his belongings on a cart. He wouldn’t be able to flee quickly, yet didn’t look like he had suffered any hurts from anything he may have met during his travels.

‘How is it that.’ Heridah began, before Brax interrupted him.

‘I had talismans and other miscellaneous items that I had collected during my travels. It was due to these items that I have been able to move unmolested throughout the lands.’ He scowled before continuing. ‘Most of them have since been appropriated in Shadow Hill by a Lord and his Wizard. They felt the items would be more valuable to their defence of the land than it would be for the King himself to possess them.’

Valdor couldn’t help but respond to that.

‘There are those of the Shield in Shadow Hill old man. They would not have allowed anyone to take that which is rightfully the property of the King.’

Brax turned his attention to the King’s Shield.

‘I thought the same thing monk,’ Brax replied in a voice that oozed betrayal and loss. ‘The Lord Marcus was able to convince both Atriol and Trevain that if Shadow Hill were to fall to that which is coming, then it would seriously weaken the King’s defence. Therefore, they were acting in the best interests of the King by ‘claiming’ most of that which I carried.’

Heridah wasn’t completely convinced, but he didn’t see any threat in the old man. He knew the names of the Lord of Shadow Hill and his King’s Shield and appeared to be from the King’s Realm.

Ordinarily, he would like to dig a lot deeper into what this old man was about, but they were in a rush and did not need further delay.

‘I’m sorry to hear of it,’ Heridah said. ‘Let King Dayhen know we will attempt to check in on Lord Marcus on our return journey.’

Brax nodded his head and shook the reins still resting in his hands. His cart began to move forward again as the others trotted past him on their horses.

Brax held his breath as they passed the rear of the cart. Now would be the worst possible time for his angry goblin companion to wake and remember what he had done to her.

The sounds of the riders continued on and he was able to breath normally again.

‘I don’t trust that one,’ Valdor spoke aloud, after they had ridden out of sight of the old man and his cart.

Heridah turned his head to look at the King’s Shield. ‘Should we have interrogated him further?’ Heridah asked. Valdor sensed the wizard had wanted to.

‘The compulsion within me is increasing in its intensity Heridah. I fear we may have delayed too long already, regardless of whether we stopped to question that old man more thoroughly.’ Valdor didn’t know why the feeling to find it was so intense now, but it worried him.

‘Should we go.?’ Heridah began, before stopping midsentence.

Valdor stiffened in his saddle, sitting bolt upright. His horse stopped in response to his sudden jerk backwards.

‘What is it?’ Catlin said to him, her voice concerned.

‘It is gone,’ was all Valdor said, as he looked first at Catlin and then at Heridah.

Neither of them said anything to him. Neither of them knew what to say.

They both knew what he referred to.

‘Gone completely or just less than it was?’ Heridah eventually asked.

Valdor turned to him, expressionless once again. ‘It is no longer there wizard.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I fear it is found already.’

‘Should we now look for who has taken it?’ Catlin spoke to Valdor, who turned his head to look at her. Heridah chimed in before he could reply.

‘Without his compulsion drawing him towards it, we have no idea where it may have gone. The plains themselves are vast, and whoever has taken it may be going south, north or even west into the mountains. We could search for many seasons and still not find it.’ Heridah looked at Valdor as he spoke. ‘We should return to Lakerth,’ he finished.

‘But we have come this far already,’ Catlin continued. ‘Whoever took it may also be travelling this way. Should we not at least try?’

‘Heridah is right,’ Valdor said. Both of them looked at him. ‘It could be anywhere or it may have been destroyed. Regardless, I don’t think we can afford the time to search for it. I have failed and what comes of that failure we will have to face.’

‘We have not failed,’ Catlin said.

‘I agree,’ Heridah added. ‘How can we have failed when none of us here know what the actual test was or what the prize at the end is? We may find out in the days or seasons to come, but for now we need to go back and continue preparations for what we do know is coming.’

Valdor nodded his head and turned his horse around.

‘Now,’ Valdor said, as he spurred his horse on. ‘Let us see what secrets that old man has.’

Brax heard the galloping horses before he was able to see the riders coming over the rise, but he had a fairly good idea who they would be.

He didn’t bother trying to ride off the track and hide. The King’s Shield would have been able to track him easily on foot, let alone driving a cart.

He was concerned why they had turned around so quickly. He could think of no reason other than perhaps something he had said or done had sparked something within the old man.

He was determined to keep up his charade regardless. He did not want to have to fight those three.

It wasn’t long before they came into view. They slowed their mounts the moment they saw him and Brax pulled his cart to the side of the track, just in case they were intent on another destination and wanted to go by him.

It may in fact have nothing to do with him, but he knew that was wishful thinking.

When they again halted ten paces behind him he took a deep breath and stood down from the cart. He walked to the rear and stood in front of where the goblin slept. At least if she moved a little, they may not see it.

‘Returning so soon?’ Brax enquired in a pleasant voice.

The old man climbed down from his horse and was mimicked by both Kings Shield. They came no closer.

‘I thought it more prudent to delve a little deeper into your intentions Brax. We cannot be too careful these days. Evil can take many forms.’ The old man also spoke in a pleasant voice, but still retained the arrogant tone of one that thought themselves better than the common man. He had worked out already this one was probably a wizard.

Brax could see no anger, hate or fear coming from any of them. That was very disconcerting and something he hoped he could change if he was left with no choice.

‘Very well,’ Brax replied and sighed deeply. ‘How may I re-assure you?’

It was the male King’s Shield that spoke this time, which surprised Brax. Perhaps it was their intent to try and rattle him.

‘You mentioned items of value you possessed and that most had been taken by Lord Marcus. What have you that still remains in your possession?’

After his visit to Shadow Hill, Brax had expected this question.

‘I mean no disrespect monk, but you will understand my reticence in revealing that which I have left, after most has already been taken from me.’

‘So, you would object if we were to check for ourselves?’ Valdor asked him, as emotionless as ever.

Brax noted there was still no fear or anger emanating from any of them. They were suspicious and cautious, but that appeared to be all. He was being interrogated, but there was no malice within them. He need only convince them he was no threat and they would be on their way.

He looked at the wizard. He didn’t think this one would be as easy to manipulate as the one in Shadow Hill. He needed to be smart and he needed to keep a cool head.

‘I would be unable to prevent you from doing so, but I would object,’ he replied. ‘I mean no disrespect, but as you are King’s men like myself, you would appreciate that what I have left is for the King alone to see. What I have is his. I wish only to get it to the Capital. You are welcome to escort me. Indeed, it would be appreciated if you could.’ He inclined his head to the King’s Shield. It was a gamble he now took, but he suspected these three were on some kind of mission. He hoped it required some urgency.

The monk didn’t respond. Brax had posed quite the dilemma for him and he knew it.

The silence stretched on and still no-one spoke.

It was Heridah who finally broke the stalemate.

‘Unfortunately, we require more haste than your cart is capable of. However, we will be passing through Havern and will send an escort for you as soon as we arrive there.’

Brax could sense the frustration, but there was still no anger. Inwardly he was very pleased. By the time any escort arrived for him, he would be off-road and making his way into Havern through an entry known to very few, possibly only one other.

‘I would be grateful for the assurance such an escort would provide.’ He bowed his head once more to the wizard and then in turn to the other two.

Once Heridah moved to get back on his horse, both Valdor and Catlin did the same. They mounted, but none moved off just yet.

Valdor was waiting for Heridah to begin moving. He looked across at the wizard, who just sat there with his eyebrows drawn together in thought.

‘Is there something more you wish to ask him?’ Valdor said in a quiet voice.

Heridah seemed to come out of his own thoughts and looked across at the King’s Shield.

‘Something isn’t right about this one, but I cannot think what it is. It is rather annoying,’ he added in a frustrated whisper.

Valdor remained stationary. He would be guided by Heridah in this instance. Now that his own quest was over, he was back to being a loyal King’s man and the wizard outranked him.

‘Let us be on our way,’ Heridah said finally. He gently nudged his horse to get him moving.

It was dark under the blanket and the cart was not moving, so the risk of her outburst didn’t register. As soon as she realised where she was, Linf recalled exactly what had happened when she was last awake.

That deceitful pile of dung she thought, as she tried to sit up, before wriggling furiously when she realised she was bound tightly.

‘Let me out of here!’ she croaked as loudly as she could. Still a little dazed, her head was pounding and her energy levels low.

When no-one answered, she yelled again. This time she struggled against her bonds as well.

Linf heard a thud from outside the cart. She focused her hearing, suddenly wary they may not be in a safe place.

She heard footsteps approaching the cart. More than one person was out there.

Straining against the bonds that held her, she didn’t have the strength to break them.

The blanket was suddenly thrown back. Turning her head from the brightness of the sun, she looked down to focus her sight.

Looking back up, she saw three humans standing in front of her. One of them was old, like the treacherous dung-pile she travelled with. The other two held swords in their hands. They didn’t look to be friendly.

She couldn’t see where Brax was.

The old human said something to one of those with a sword. That one walked to the side of the cart and bent over.

The other one with the sword stepped towards her. It looked ready to drive the sword straight through her, as Linf tried to squirm further back into the cart, but her bonds were tight and she was held fast.

The sword stopped in front of her chest and Linf stared daggers back at it. Her fear began to turn into anger as she realised how helpless she was to defend herself. She had been enjoying her brief taste of power. It was so unfair it would end like this. She was desperately searching for some fear or anger to grasp hold of from these strangers in front of her, but could see none.

Suddenly she began to feel herself weakening even further.

Brax was in view now. He was being held, his arms behind his back. She could see the anger and fear within her being drawn to him. Her anger increased, as he betrayed her once more, her body weakening even further. Then it occurred to her that Brax was probably her only hope of getting out of this alive.

She had been practicing to clear her mind since before their last incident. Putting what she had taught herself into action now, the pull of energy that Brax was drawing from her quickly slowed to a trickle. If not for the situation she was in, she would have smiled at how easy it was.

Brax must have thought he’d drawn enough or else he was aware he was getting no more, as he flung a ball of energy straight at the nearest human with a sword. It knocked him backwards a small distance, but he didn’t lose his feet. Apparently the old fool didn’t have enough power within him yet.

The other old one yelled something and Brax was lifted from the ground. He rose to a height where his feet were now level with where his head would have been had he still been standing on the ground. His body was turned flat while airborne, before he was flung at speed towards the ground. She heard the impact as his body struck the dirt.

Linf thought he may have been dead; before she saw the faint trickle of fear still emanating from his body.

The goblin reached out to him and began to pull what energy Brax had left into her. As she began to draw it, she was surprised to see greater quantities coming out of him. The old fool was pretending to be knocked out.

The more Linf drew from him, the more afraid and angry he got. Linf dared not take too long. Already the one Brax had knocked back was kneeling next to him, tying both his hands and legs.

It wouldn’t be long before they turned their attention back to her.

She thought of trying her own ball of energy, but she had seen the minimal effect Brax’ had on the man. Her own would likely be less powerful than that one.

Instead she tested the bonds that held her. Linf was confident she now had enough strength within her to break them.

Without further hesitation, she pulled her arms forward and the bonds snapped with relative ease. Perhaps she was still stronger than she thought.

Leaping up, she dove over the boxes above her and jumped from the front of the cart onto the ground.

Linf was running as soon as her feet touched the dirt and was almost to the first of the trees when she felt something strike her back and knock her forward on to her face.

She tried to move, but she couldn’t. She tried to open her eyes, but it felt as if they were glued shut. Oddly, there was no pain and everything had gone quiet.

She actually felt at peace, which was also strange.

Then she felt and saw nothing.

CHAPTER 2

The Next Clue

T HE JOURNEY FOR Brindel out of the plains and back to the mountains was easier than the one he made ente ring.

Having a solid destination in sight had lifted his spirits and increased his speed. Yet even more invigorating, was the compulsion leaving him the moment he finally had the idol in his hand.

He felt free for the first time since the old man had spoken to him in the mountains. His freedom had always been important to him.

That the idol revealed nothing to him was a little worrying, but he tried not to dwell on it. He had a feeling it would disclose itself to him in its own good time.

Brindel decided to work his way down to the Southern Range, along the valleys at the bottom, rather than make his way directly back toward his home.

The journey would be easier and if he was unable to decipher what the idol was, then perhaps someone in the Southern Dwarven Kingdom may be able to help with it.

That was a last resort. He didn’t like asking for help, but he knew there was a difference between stubborn and stupid.

Whatever this idol was, he knew it was important.

Brindel’s journey to the foothills of the Eastern Range was trouble free, although he had run out of water and was badly dehydrated by the time he reached the first stream making its way off the mountains.

He drank deeply when he arrived and decided he deserved to rest for a time, savouring the tranquillity and thinking back on his success so far.

No doubt the elf and her half-elf friend would be searching for him, but he wasn’t concerned. He would be back into the Mountains soon and they wouldn’t follow him there. He would be glad if they did, but he doubted even they were that dim-witted.

He didn’t know what his next move would be after he returned home. His journey to the lands east and south hadn’t turned out the way he hoped they would, so he would rest up again before deciding.

First things first though. He needed to get back to the safety of the mountains and work out what it was he carried in his belt.

Brindel stood up again after an hour or so, stretched and drank deeply again from the stream. Moving off at a steady lope, he began to make his way south.

He wasn’t gone long from the stream and was traversing the top of a small hill, when he came upon a man he had hoped never to see again. Standing beneath a large oak tree, the old man was little more than ten paces in front of him as he reached the top of the rise.

He looked exactly the same as he had when Brindel saw him the first time, only now he had a broad smile on his face.

In a way Brindel was pleased to see him. The old man should be able to tell him the secret to his idol.

Brindel kept walking until he was only a few paces away, before he stopped and waited for the man to speak.

‘Congratulations Brindel.’ He spoke in a friendly tone and appeared genuinely pleased for him. ‘You have done well obtaining the idol.’

‘You had better be here to tell me what this so-called clue is, because I haven’t the faintest idea what this idol does.’ Brindel wasn’t going to pander to him, but decided he would at least try to be nice to begin with.

The smile didn’t leave the man’s face as he replied.

‘The idol is well crafted and worth a considerable fortune, but you will be disappointed to learn it does nothing else. It is an idol made of gold; nothing more.’

Brindel waited for him to continue. He was expecting him to say that he jested before then bursting into laughter. Instead, the old man continued looking at him with the same grin on his face.

Brindel was suddenly out of niceties.

‘Are you kidding me?! You sent me to find something which you made me believe was more important than anything else I had going on; something I had to find or else.’ He was definitely not feeling the love anymore.

‘And now you stand there with a stupid, jerk smile on your crusty old face and tell me it is worth a lot, but that’s all!’

He stood there for several heartbeats with his fists clenched at his side, before taking a step towards the old man.

Still grinning, the old man held a hand up. Brindel stopped just out of reach. ‘I did not say that was all.’

The dwarf took a step back, but kept his fists clenched.

‘You will be rewarded for your efforts Brindel. It was no easy task reaching the idol, let alone getting there before all the others.’

That sounded much better, Brindel thought. He visibly relaxed his stance, unclenched his fists and took two more steps back.

‘What others?’ Brindel asked, still curious as to what it all meant. His fists began to clench again as his satisfaction and confusion warred with each other.

‘You must journey to the Ruined Forest and seek out the one who has no place there. If you are successful in making it there, you will be provided with your next reward.’ The smile on his face grew larger, before his face took on a serious look. ‘It is important you get there as quickly as you are able. To delay in this task could be your downfall.’

It took a moment for the words to sink in. In that time, the old man had quickly stepped behind the trunk of the tree and out of sight.

Brindel moved quickly as his anger exploded. He raced to the other side of the tree, but as he had done after their first encounter in the Mountains, the old man had again disappeared into thin air.

Brindel let out a roar of anger and frustration and kicked the tree as hard as he could. Then he kicked it again.

‘Find the Ruined Forest?!’ he yelled into the wind. He couldn’t believe he had been set another task by the old man.

Unlike on the previous occasion, this time he felt no compulsion return. The nagging sensation he was so glad to be rid of only a short time ago was still absent. He assumed it would take hold soon enough.

As he was about to really start cursing, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Go to the Ruined Forest? He knew of only one forest and it had been more than spoiled recently. He hoped the old man didn’t seriously expect him to go into the Elven Forest. A dwarf in an Elven Forest was suicide. It was as simple as that.

He may as well drive a dagger straight into his heart right now. It would be quicker and far less painful. Not painful as in the dying part, but painful at being killed by one of the cowardly scum that lived there. It would be just his luck that the one he fought in the insect lair would be the same one to find him in their forest.

He would still have time to think about his next move before making any rash decisions, but he didn’t stop swearing and cursing for a long time as he continued in the direction he had been travelling; before the old man had ruined his day completely.

He almost threw the idol away in disgust, but stopped himself mid throw.

He was a dwarf after all and treasure was treasure.

The rest of the day was spent in silent reflection of what he now had to do. Silent, aside from the odd expletive as his frustrations got the better of him.

He was thankful he wouldn’t have to go see his cousins in the Southern Kingdom, which was one small mercy. Their counsel wasn’t needed now he knew what the idol did; or rather what it didn’t do.

He would instead travel back to his home in the Northern Mountains to charge and mend his armour and amulets. Some had been severely depleted in his travels so far and he would need his tools and furnace to get them back to full potency.

He wasn’t concerned at the ridicule that would come his way on returning so soon after he had bid them take his room and things. He was accustomed to being the butt of their jokes. This was just one more disappointment they could throw in his face.

At least the idol would come in handy. It would help pay for the resources he would need to make his defences whole again.

The trees Brindel walked through had become sparser as he travelled upwards towards the base of the great Dwarven Mountain Range.

The snow above him was closer and he would be amongst it before night came. The cold didn’t worry him, but travelling would become slower as he was forced to trudge his way through the frozen land ahead. He would have time to dig himself in before the sun disappeared.

Brindel walked to the top of a rise and was brought out of his inner thoughts at the sight of three dwarves making their way down the mountainside in his direction. He didn’t think they had seen him yet, as his attention had only been drawn to them when he heard one of them yell at one of the others.

They were some distance off, but he could make out they weren’t from his Northern Kingdom.

One lagged behind the other two, and Brindel assumed he was the one being yelled at.

They had left the snow above them, which is how Brindel was able to see the white shapes stalking them on either side. He didn’t think the dwarves had seen them, as they held no weapons in their hands and didn’t look to be studying their surroundings.

Typical Southern fools, he thought to himself. They dressed in clothes that sparkled in the sun and would attract all kinds of predators. Probably even those with limited sight. What they were doing so far from the mountains was a mystery to him, other than trying to get themselves killed.

The creatures that stalked them were snow leopards. He could see four in total, two on either side. As he watched on, he realised they were waiting for the right place to attack.

A large group of trees at the bottom of the small valley they walked towards looked to be the most obvious spot.

The leopards silently made their way towards their ambush site as Brindel began his own way towards them. He tried to move as quietly as he could, but he suspected the beasts would hear him well before he got near them.

It didn’t look like he would get there in time to help the dwarves and he knew he should probably try to warn them before they were set upon.

He was confident he could kill the beasts if they turned their attention to him, but he wasn’t feeling all that lucky at the moment. It wouldn’t shock him if one managed to get a claw through his defences before he stopped it.

As Brindel made his way down the hill, the thought occurred to him how strange it was they were hunting so far from the snow. It was their natural hunting grounds, where they were camouflaged and at their most dangerous. To be stalking three adult dwarves was a huge risk, even there.

They must be hungry; or else they might be something more than just snow leopards. The memory of the misbegotten creatures he had fought on the other side of the mountain range came back to him. He hoped these animals weren’t more than they seemed.

The first two dwarves came to the copse of trees. The snow leopards had already hidden themselves within and Brindel was only half way to them. He was about to yell out a warning and draw the cats to him, when he saw movement to his right, only a short distance from where he was striding.

He had been so focused on the group at the bottom of the valley, that he had neglected his own surroundings. He saw only one of them, but going on the technique the others were using, he suspected there was probably another on his other side. He was surprised he hadn’t seen it earlier. It must have picked up his scent some time ago and been stalking him, as the others in its pack stalked those dwarves further down in the valley.

Brindel walked in amongst a scattering of trees, still thick with leaf, and the snow leopard managed to obscure itself from his vision.

He stopped and turned to face it, his ears straining for any sound behind him. He knew how quiet cats were; especially when stalking prey; so he wasn’t confident of hearing one if it were sneaking up on him from behind.

His best indication that there was another was when the one he now faced about twenty paces away, stopped on its haunches and just stared at him.

He turned as the one behind leapt at him. Swinging his axe, he cleaved it easily, the blade biting deep into its shoulder as he stepped to one side. He was almost surprised to see it was a plain and simple snow leopard. It possessed no disfigurements or enhancements. The other one, despite seeing the fate of its companion, also ran at him now. It looked skinny and hungry, Brindel thought, as his blade sliced easily through its outstretched front legs. It fell on the ground in a heap and he quickly put it out of its misery.

Checking quickly that the first one was dead, he turned his attention again to those at the bottom of the rise.

He could make out the forms of dwarves and leopards within the trees, but it was difficult for him to see exactly what was happening.

He ran down at a quick pace for a dwarf, but it was all over by the time he arrived.

The four leopards had been killed, their bodies bloodied and scattered about.

One of the dwarves lay prone on the ground, another of them on their knees over the body. Brindel assumed he was mourning the loss of the one on the ground.

The other one stood a short way behind the others.

Brindel recognised him straight away. He was a Northern Dwarf and his name was Granwith. Going by their garments, the other two were from the Southern Kingdom. Brindel had assumed they were all Southern Dwarves. He hadn’t paid too close inspection to the third one on his initial observation.

Granwith would be their bodyguard. He didn’t appear upset at the death of his charge, but Brindel knew he would be fuming on the inside. His Northern kin made their reputation and riches on their fighting prowess, and Granwith was among the best of them. He was lethal with his short spears, which were legendary among the Dwarves.

Neither acknowledged the other as Brindel walked closer, before eventually stopping a short distance away. He would wait until the one kneeling decided to get up first. Brindel was able to make out the head of the one on the ground now and could see the large pool of blood soaking into the dirt. The blood seeped from two large holes in his neck, the result of one of the leopards latching on to him with its mouth. The leopard lay next to him, a huge hole marking the place in its side where one of Granwith’s spears had gone to work. He had seen his weapons once before up close and they were remarkable. Just a single one of them would have