Dalmar shivered as he woke from his sleep early in the morning, and grumbled at the abrupt manner by which he awoke. He was displeased that he didn't get more sleep, but then was quickly reminded of his good fortune when his vision returned to normal. The front door of the small outpost had been left open slightly letting a sliver of morning sun creep inside upon the floor creating a slice of warmth for which he extended his hand to reconfirm his suspicion of its truth. Yawning and rubbing his eyes, Dalmar sat up and scanned the area. He then checked his immediate vicinity for his belongings, all of which were still by his side where he left them the night before. Dalmar's mind quickly snapped back to a few hours before sunlight when he crawled to the front door of this tiny hovel in the middle of a mountain pass, and the storm raged with fresh memory in his mind. Dalmar's tiny smile quickly faded with the sounds of men outside jingling with armor and conversation. The fire that once burned in the fireplace had died, and was nothing more than a pile of smoldering ash by this time. This, of course, meant that there was no breakfast to be had until he caught it himself, and therefore he lazily stood up and gathered his things, and stepped outside into the sun.
Dalmar took a deep breath of the chilly morning air that whistled through the mountain roadways, and his eyes fell on Uli and Gunnar who stood before four other men uniformed in the same manner. "Dalmar!", echoed Uli. "It appears as if you will be accompanying us and the captain to Irongard, that is, unless you actually want to go further south." Uli paused to reconfirm his own suspicion. Dalmar shook his head to affirm Uli and Gunnar's premonition, and stepped to his mare which was still tied to the front post. With Dalmar's attention upon his mare, two of the riders trotted over to the stable beside the outpost, and returned henceforth on foot. Mumbling something to both Uli and Gunnar, the captain turned his horse around and motioned for the others to mount and ride behind him. Dalmar quickly mounted his own horse, and fell in line towards the back but was quickly motioned up front with the captain as they began to steadily pace the trail towards the city. The captain occasionally peered over the Dalmar as they trotted, drifting back to the ledges above them in the mountains for unseen predators and vagabonds. He seemed like a proud man, and his armor was shiny as if it was forged only the day before. Like Uli, the captain wore a proud beard and moustache that draped his chest with two distinguished brown braids that ended just over the upper edge of a great seal on his breastplate of a pair of black raptors. Dalmar stared briefly at this fine piece of work before the captain addressed him with a smile.
"Tell me," the captain said as he paused looking at Dalmar out of the corner of his eye. "Is it the mind or the thought that impresses itself upon you, Dalmar?"
For a moment, Dalmar was shocked that the captain knew his name, but then realized that Uli probably relayed Dalmar's name to him. Taking into account that Uli probably took several other liberties with Dalmar's
information, he decided to be cautious yet agreeable. "Well, sir, a man can have several thoughts but only one mind. After all, it is Echidna that men fear, not her children, is it not?" Dalmar said confidently.
"But do men not fear monsters, too, Dalmar?" the captain smartly answered.
"Of course, well, they must, but only when they appear. The very name, Echidna, strikes fear before the eyes ever lay themselves upon her. To me, that makes her far more dangerous." Dalmar replied.
"Good answer." said the captain ushering a curt reply. "There is more to you than the eye reveals, Dalmar" the captain continued as he leaned towards Dalmar and lowered his voice. "...and it's not because of anything of which Uli and Gunnar foretold." The captain gave a smug smile and sat upright in his saddle. With a quick, sharp kick of his heels into his steed, the captain quickened the pace a bit. Dalmar felt a momentary bundle of pride swell in his chest as he matched the captain's pace. He had never thought to hear compliments - at least he thought it was a compliment - from a man who lead other men into battle. Still, Dalmar rode high in his saddle until his mind wandered from himself to the majesty of the monstrous mountains blocking the sun and towering over him with barely a second thought. Soon, Dalmar began to feel less significant as his farmboy sensibilities took over once again. Finally, Dalmar scoffed as he remembered that each battle he'd won in the past was fought not with his mind but his strength. It was then that Dalmar decided that he would lend his mind to some of the burden that his incredible gift had bore.
When the sun began to dip low in the sky and yield to the impending nightfall, the riders each rounded the bases of two large mountains in a dusty pass and came upon the city of Irongard, capital city to Glorsheim. Dalmar was amazed for he had never seen anything so mystifying and grand as the huge city built onto the side of a mountain. Tall spires reached through the bottoms of the lowest lying clouds at the top of the mountain, and grand terraces and walls protected the city at the base of the mountain. Dalmar tried to count all the people and roads that he saw from a distance, but gave up when he nearly fell off his horse. The captain lessened the pace of the caravan when he caught sight of the city, and signaled to the others to do the same. Soon, the men reached the guardpost of eight men who stood watching the entrance for undesirables. The captain signaled once again for the party to stop, and was quickly acknowledged by the attending guards who ushered him through the tall, arched gateway. Dalmar stood on his horse looking at the huge archway like a child watching a feather climb into the air upon a breath of wind. But it wasn't long before he felt something poke him in the back, and heard Gunnar's familiar diction, "Gitcher' arse troo' da gayt, weezahl gotz binniss, boi!". The remaining riders laughed as Dalmar moved through the gates, but stopped laughing when Dalmar stopped again once inside. Dalmar had never seen so many people in one place at one time. He mused that he saw the entire population of Wahskre just on the very street upon which he and his mare stood. Gunnar rode by Dalmar without his noticing as did the other unnamed riders, and disappeared after the captain through the crowds. Then Uli rode up slowly beside Dalmar and spoke:
"This is where we part, boy. Our businesses have different tents. See you around, Dalmar, and good luck." Uli smiled as he tipped his helmet to Dalmar. He then waved and followed Gunnar through the crowd, his red beard draped across his shoulder like a beacon through the dusty streets of Irongard. Dalmar smiled until he could see Uli 's red hair no more, and he briefly thought to himself that he'd wished he and Uli had been friends in some other life. He liked Uli, but Uli was cut from different cloth and a different sense of duty. Breaking his dream state, his mare snorted and caught his attention signaling that it needed either food or water. Dalmar patted her neck, and scanned the area for a suitable place to steer his trusty old friend. Dalmar quickly found a stable about fifty meters from the front gate and made his way to rest his horse for the evening. Within moments and a shiny coin less than before, Dalmar was on foot, swallowed by the sea of people returning from the markets of Irongard for the day. Dalmar hadn't given much thought to much else for the day, so he thought he would stroll for a bit to see the sights and then try to find some place to bed down until morning. Luckily, as Dalmar turned to continue down the avenue, he saw the familiar sights of a tavern and headed straight to its doors.
Dalmar stepped slowly through the doors of the well-lit tavern to the eruption of a chorus by a local bard. Dalmar was thankful to find that nobody noticed him walk through the door except a few barmaids and the taverner who tipped a mug to him as he entered. The rest of the people were too busy with the bard's business, so he snaked to the bar and addressed the barkeep. A small copper coin later, Dalmar leaned against the bar and smiled smiled a wry, foamy smile as he took down the pint. Dalmar felt relaxed for the first time since he woke. As the stress of the day melted from his brow, Dalmar ordered another pint and inquired about a room for the night for which the innkeeper responded with two vacancies. Dalmar finished off his first pint, and tipped it to the innkeeper as he tossed him a silver coin for the room. Naturally, the bartender swiped the coin quickly, and bit it before soon smiling back at Dalmar. After two more pints of the local brew, Dalmar felt tired and headed to his room where he promptly found a soft spot in the barley mattress, and fell quickly asleep.
Invino Veritas
5/22/11
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