Dalmar awoke in the early morning to the sound of a large rumbling outside the inn shaking tiny objects around the room like pebbles from the looming mountains that surrounded the city. Startled, Dalmar jumped from his awkward lying position half on and half off the bed, and ran tot he window. As he peered out the window into the dusty street below, he gazed upon a wide group of armored men - some on horseback and some in foot - trailing down the street towards the gates of the city where he had entered Irongard. Intrigued, Dalmar rushed himself to put on his clothes and gather his things and quickly dahsed through the inn to take a better look from the streetside. As the men marched by the onlookers, the dust began to rise in the early morning sun and tickled his nose and irritated his eyes a bit. Each of the men of varying heights and physique looked straight ahead towards their captains and sergeants leading the way through the long curve of the cityscape. Their armor was dusty from traveling, and each face seemed hardened by years of battle, and scarred with the skirmishes of conflicts with orcs and hooligans the like. The procession last for nearly a half an hour before the last men were seen signaling Dalmar's curiosity about the regiment and his desire for some breakfast.
Dalmar returned the confines of the dark tavern and approached the bar making a low request for some breakfast to which the innkeeper replied with a plate of corn, potatoes, and some scraggly bits of swine. Paying the man, Dalmar dove in with ravenous and unrefined nature, sounding off its finish with a loud belch. Dalmar then washed it all down with a local ale and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He then asked, "Do the soldiers often travel in such groups through the city?"
"Fairly often, stranger. I suppose the men you saw this morning were returning from the front near Balder" the innkeeper replied as he spit into a glass mug and wiped it with a dirty rag.
"Balder? what's in Balder?" Dalmar said slyly as he took another drink of his ale.
"What's in Balder? Are you daft, boy? Only the place where Thorfinn and the Orcs have been fighting for the past eight or nine years!" the innkeeper scoffed.
"Sorry, I'm not really from this place" Dalmar sheepishly replied.
"Where you from, boy?" the innkeeper asked as he leaned back against a large stack of flour sacks.
"Morguon." Dalmar spoke leaving nothing he thought the innkeeper could sleight.
"Oh, I see. Not much in Morguon. Mostly farmers and simple folk in those parts. Well, then, I guess you are forgiven, but no better place to get some education than Irongard I suppose" the hairy man said as he chewed on a piece of wood that he used to remove bits of food from his teeth. "Orcs to the west and Edra to the south. You'd probably do best to go north or back the way you came unless, of course you're here for work in which case the best pay for someone like you is to join the ranks of those in Balder" the innkeeper continued. The large man gazed at Dalmar for a moment as if to survey his ability or age before responding a hail by one of the patrons for another drink. Turning around and filling the mug he had just shined, the innkeeper shook his head as if in disbelief of Dalmar's potential. Dalmar grinned slightly as the innkeeper tended his request for he felt as if he pulled off the facade that he had hoped, but cut the celebration short as the bartender turned to address his other customer. As he sat at the bar and drank the final sips of his ale, Dalmar thought to himself that he had no real aim in his journeys and nothing was set in stone as far as direction went. He weighed the potential that he knew he had with the innkeeper's words, gave a bit of a shrug as he set his mug down, and set off to retrieve his mare from the stable down the street.
Dalmar knew that he couldn't continue his journey too much longer without attracting some means of replenishing his silver supply at some point, and this plagued his mind as he walked down the busy city avenue. He wasn't terribly keen wth the idea of entering into battle or swearing allegience to someone he didn't know or for a cause he did not wholeheartedly believe. As he approached the stable finally, Dalmar convinced himself that the people of Balder needed his help according to Uli's account of the situation, and decided to head in the general direction of Balder. After all, with regiments of the size he saw today, the battlefront shouldn't be too hard to find, right? With a nod to himself finalizing his internal debate, he paid the hosteler and set out to find the western egress of the city on his mare.
Irongard was entirely larger than he had realized, and it took several hours to locate the western gate by traveling through the streets of the city. The streets of the eastern side were fairly well straight and logically linked together, but as the age of the city grew older with his travel the streets seemed to zig-zag in strange directions. New parts seemed to intermingle with the old stone of the city pointing out damage that must have occurred in the past for various reason whether by natural means or resistance of an attacking enemy perhaps. Dalmar mused at what the history of the city might be as his eyes washed over the wondrous scenery of the old city. Finally, Dalmar noticed the abundance of armored men began to grow until finally he reached the west gate of the city, and the common people of Irongard became sparse with the infiltration of military presence. Dalmar has absentmindedly rode right up to Thorfinn's men, and soon his horse's reins were held tight by four armored men. They did not seem happy that he had simply waltzed into the camp of sorts, and within moments, another man on horseback rode up swiftly in front of him. "What are you doing here? What is your name?" the man bellowed.
"Dalmar, sir. I was told I could find some work with the king's army" Dalmar responded timidly.
"The captain smirked as his horse jostled him from side to side. "Far be it for me to refuse an extra hand. We leave within the hour. You will be paid ten silver a day. Do you have your own weapons?" he barked.
"Yes, I have two swords and this horse" Dalmar responded as he eyed the captain's eagerness at recruiting. Dalmar felt as if perhaps the warfront wasn't going as well as expected perhaps if they were that eager for more men.
"Well, Dalmar..." the captain said with a slight gnashing of his teeth, "...today is your lucky day. We head for Balder in one hour." Gruffly, the captain continued, "Leave your horse behind. I am Gavin; I'll be your commander. Do right by me and I'll do right by you. Got it?"
"Got it, Gavin!" Dalmar said smartly.
"Damnit, you address me as captain!" Gavin hollered at Dalmar.
"Startled once again, Dalmar said "Got it, captain, sir!" The captain circled his steed around and rode back towards the west gates mumbling to himself as he resheathed his sword. Dalmar began to rethink his decision, and thought that Gavin wasn't quite as nice as the other captain he had met only just yesterday as he traveled through the mountain passes to Irongard with Uli and Gunnar. Still, he would stick it out and see where this sort of thing would lead. In the meantime, he decided it was time to let his mare go to someone who could better take care of her, and he rode into the cityscape once more. within an hour's time, Dalmar had sold his horse and even picked up some dried meat and cheese to carry along on his journey to Balder. Returning to the west gate, he jopined the ragtag group of young men and marched with the captain and his sergeants out the west gate, down the mountainside, and into the forest on the valley below.
From the valley floor through the canopies of the trees, the mountain ridge looked enormous. Encircling all within view with blue and purple mountains and peaks so white, Dalmar imagined he could feel the icy fingers of their snowflakes from his own vantage point. For the first time in a while, Dalmar felt he was part of something, and any confusion or questions of purpose seemed to fade behind a wall of order and fellowship within his mind. Dalmar even began to smile slightly with a momentary happiness. When nightfall fell upon the valley floor, the captain finally halted the men who seemed thoroughly tired from marching all day, and ordered camp to be set. Dalmar's mood had kept him from noticing his own fatigue until he began to sit down upon a fallen log and his ankle began to twitch. Before long, the valley floor was alive with a hundred campfires like a swarm of giant fireflies landing in the forest. Dalmar pulled out some cheese and nibbled at it while he sliced some of the dried meat off its hunk to eat by the campfire. Soon thereafter, the sergeants came around dishing out orders for the night watch, and Dalmar was chosen to take the late watch of which there were two throughout the night per fifty meter square. Dalmar seemed to think this was simple enough, and quickly decided to catch some sleep before his watch. He slid his body to the forest floor and leaned against the fallen log, and stretched his feet within a few feet of the warm fire. He then tied his saddlebag around his body and swung his arm over the top to deter any curious people from taking a closer look. As he watched the strange flicker of fire, he became drowsy, and then fell asleep under the stars and the sounds of the forest in the valley.
EOF
Invino Veritas
5/30/11
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