Glade stretched his aching muscles as he opened his bleary eyes, not even remembering fallen asleep in the first place. As he came to, Glade was pleasantly surprised that his section of tunnel was warmer than before, and it wasn’t hard to see why.
Kedryn sat comfortably next to Glade, his hand outstretched as he controlled a merry blaze under a cookpot. One of the filthiest dwarves he had seen yet stood above the massive pot, happily humming to himself as he stirred a lumpy porridge, his ratty blond beard dipping alarmingly close to the food.
A low buzz of conversation echoed within the tunnel, where the majority of the clan had migrated to due to the warmth.
But what stood out to him the most was how quiet and dim his surroundings were. Gone were the harsh lights and ear-splitting noises that had wreaked havoc on his senses, which could only mean one thing.
Glade quickly opened his notifications, finding 4 still waiting to be read.
Congratulations! You have reduced your mana saturation by a total of 29%. Current saturation is 23%.
Note: You no longer exhibit any symptoms from mana poisoning.
Glade grinned. He had done it! After hours of cycling the mana out of his system, he was no longer suffering from overly enhanced senses and stamina regeneration. As the over stimulation penalties dissipated, his body had finally succumbed to sleep.
The second prompt put an even bigger smile on his face.
Egg’s anticipated life expectancy: 21 hours, 05 minutes, 11 seconds.
Required mana for -
Minimum Stabilization: 364/654 MP
Acceptable Stabilization: 364/981 MP
Optimal Stabilization: 364/1308 MP
The progress was much better than anticipated, which meant his math had been off. It wasn’t until he pulled up the next notification that Glade understood why.
Congratulations! You have gained skill level 8 in Mana Processing (Root and Branch Technique) +64% to processing mana.
Note You have met the requisite levels to progress into the ranks of Trainee. In order to advance, seek someone worthy to test your knowledge.
It was surprising to see how far his skill level had grown, which explained his earlier math error. Processing mana was now 64% more effective, which meant he was getting roughly 8 MP for every percentage point he reduced his mana saturation. Which was a good news story as every MP gave the egg better odds of survival.
On a whim, Glade fell into his root and branch technique, examining the mental construct of his twin seeds. The root systems of both seeds were fully entangled now, but were too shallow in his opinion. He was no Arborist, but he did know that the deeper the roots, the stronger the tree.
Resolving to focus on his technique some more, her moved onto the last notification.
Through your actions, howbeit unknowingly, you have defeated 1 x level 19 Gnoll Alpha by unleashing the astral spider threat, You have been awarded 1,043 XP ((8,024 base / 4 party members) x .5 penalty + (8,024 x .01)).
Note: Your actions have resulted in sharing 50% of the experience gained with the force used to defeat your enemies.
Glade let his eyes close as he rested his head against the rock wall. The experience was more than impressive, which wasn’t surprising as the Alpha had been level 19. But that wasn’t what was on his mind.
The massive Gnoll had been a real monster. Grace, power, and precision all wrapped into one, all powerful being. Of all the Gnolls, Glade had been certain the Alpha would have made it out.
But the simple truth was he hadn’t. A swarm of low level, poisonous spiders had brought the beast down.
It was a not so subtle reminder that strength of arms wasn’t everything.
“Ta da!” Dabbin yelled, jumping in front of Glade with his hand held high, waiting for yet another high five.
“Dabbin!” Krazzik chastised the boy as Glade tried to reign in his now pounding heart. “I done told ye to stop doin that. Ye nearly scared Captain Glade right out o’ his boots!”
“He’s fine,” Glade responded, giving the boy a high five. “He’s just keeping me young is all.”
There were several chuckles amongst the crowd, chief among them being Kedryn’s.
“Glad yer awake,” the dirt encrusted dwarf cooking their meal said. “We’re just ‘bout to serve breakfast.”
He then started dishing the horrid looking porridge into various wooden bowls, passing the food along to whomever was close at hand. By the looks of everyone present, no one was too happy with their choice of food.
Krazzik sat down on a large rock near the fire, Bragden coming up from behind brandishing Kedryn’s improvised Magma Beetle knife. The blade was burnished to a bright shine and reflected the light of the fire like the metal was a rippling wave. Even from this distance, Glade could tell the knife was honed to a razors edge.
Without preamble, the bald dwarf began shaving off the hair one side of Krazzi's head. As more food was passed around, both Glade and Kedryn watched in fascination as Bragden’s deft hand began to reveal hundreds of tiny interlocking tattoos woven together to form one large spiral similar in appearance to a curved ram’s horn.
Riya unexpectedly sat on the ground next to Glade as Bragden finished up one side of the clan chief's head, warming her hands on Kedryn’s fire.
“You look exhausted,” Kedryn said, sparing the girl a brief glance.
“You would be too if every dwarf started coming to you for silly requests,” she grumbled. “I swear, the next dwarf that asks me to magic a wart off of him, I’m going to beat bloody.”
“You could always send them my way,” Kedryn shrugged. “Tell them the only way to get rid of it is to have a pyro burn it off.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Riya said, her eyes lighting up. “I’ll remember that.”
The two continued to joke quietly in elvish as the cook hobbled up to them, handing Glade and Riya wooden bowls filled to the brim with a white lumpy concoction that smelled even worse than it looked.
Riya readily accepted the food, devouring it in moments as Glade looked down at the unappetizing meal.
“Overseer’s light, that’s horrible,” Riya gagged in Dwarfen, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress before handing the bowl back.
“Aye, that it is lass,” the dwarf laughed, wiping hands on his filthy smock. “I would say the flavor grows on ye, but even Ragnark the Dim would balk at this stuff. Do ye want some more?”
“If it hasn’t killed you lot off, then I should manage,” she responded with a tired glare, the tunnel filling with chuckles from her blunt response.
“I knew ye had spirit lass! Could see it in yer eyes,” The dwarf laughed loudly, doling out another scoop with a sickening squelch. “What be yer name?”
“Riya,” she said simply, leaving out her honorific title as first daughter to the Ki of her house.
“It be a true honor to make yer acquaintance, Celestial Riya, the golden eyed healer,” the dwarf bowed, his ragged blond beard taking a dip into their cook pot. “Me names Croon o’ Clan Slaghammer. I be the clan’s Verser, cook, and only musician this lot has. Would ye be interested in tune or three?”
“Crooner!” Krazzik barked, “Watch what yer doing to the food! By the Mother, if ye get me sick again I’ll have ye skinned from head to toe! And if ye so much as sing a note while Bragden be shavin me head I’ll personally punch ye in the throat!”
“Might improve his voice a notch,” Bragden muttered, moving to the other side of Krazzik’s head.
“Fine, fine,” Croon laughed, handing the bowl back to Riya with a wink while casually wiping the food from his beard. “They don’t mean it, ye know. They love me singing.”
More than one dwarf guffawed.
“Umm, Riya?” Kedryn whispered. “What’s Bragden doing?”
“It appears he’s shaving the chief’s head,” Riya answered, trying to choke down her second bowl.
“I can see that,” Kedryn responded with a roll of his eyes. “But why are they shaving the sides of his head?”
“Because that’s what dwarves do,” She replied with a shrug.
“Ahh,” Croon said, doling out bowls of gruel to the others. “I see our young royal has some questions regarding dwarven heritage, does he not? Well then, as clan Verser, that be me role. To educate the uneducated. What questions do ye have?”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
There were audible groans throughout the group, though Kedryn didn’t seem to notice.
“Thank you. Why is Bragden shaving Krazzik’s head? I mean, it’s pretty obvious that he wants to show off his tattoos, but what do they represent? The tattoos look far more important than just for show. Oh, and what’s a Verser?”
“Young master, ye wound me!” Croon said, holding his hand to his heart in a dramatic pose. “What do the elvish royal courts be teachin the young of today if not the basics of the oldest race on Veil?”
Riya choked on her food, coughing loudly.
“As a Verser, the keeper of all clan records and history, as well as bein trained in all the Great Clan’s lore, it be me role to ensure that lack of education be fixed. Afore I begin, what do ye know of the Sinnsear?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever heard the term,” Kedryn said.
The room went silent as every head turned toward them. Riya closed her eyes and sighed, putting down her bowl of half-eaten food.
“Never heard o' the Sinnsear?” Croon gasped, dropping his ladle into the cook pot with a sickening plop. “I never heard o’ such a thing! To think, a Royal, not even learning of the Sinnsear! An outrage I tell ye!”
Glade sighed deeply, just like Riya had. It was only a matter of time that they would stand out like sore thumbs with their lack of knowledge. But he had hoped to avoid making those kinds of mistakes in front of a crowd.
Not knowing what else to do other than watch how this played out, he grabbed his spoon and decided to force down a bite or two of the food. If Riya could handle it, so could he.
He raised the bowl, inhaling its foul aroma. The smell of rotten eggs and sour meat hit him full in the face as his eyes focused on the long dirty blond hair sticking out of the soupy mixture.
Without missing a beat, Glade passed the bowl to Kedryn, who was too distracted by Croon’s antics to refuse.
“Well, I had an unusual upbringing,” Kedryn stammered, absently accepting the bowl of foul-smelling gruel as other dwarves began grumbling their own disbelief.
“As a Verser from the renowned halls of the King’s own academy, it be my responsibility to rectify this wrong!” Croon cried, dropping a bowl of hot gruel into the lap of an unsuspecting dwarf.
“In order to educate you well and proper, we need to start at the beginning!” Croon declared, striking a regal pose as if performing. “Before time began, at the courts of the great Three…”
“We dunna have the time,” Krazzik interrupted. “Tell the short version.”
Croon deflated, his arms falling to his sides as he immediately began sputtering objections. “Ye canna cut corners on somethin this important! Ye of all people know this. I can maybe reduce it to three, no four, hours to cover the basics.”
“Ye have five minutes, Crooner. No more.” Krazzik said.
“I canna do it!” Croon cried, an aggrieved expression on his face. “I refuse! This be an outrage, I tell ye! An outrage! Ye canna explain the foundation of all dwarvish culture in five minutes!”
“Sure ye can,” Krazzik shrugged, looking at Kedryn. “The Sinnsear be the tattoos on the sides o’ every dwarf head and represents our heritage. In fact, it means forebears in ancient Dwarfen. Each o’ the runes on me head symbolizes me forefathers and mothers, tying meself to me ancestors.”
Krazzik looked back at Croon as Bragden finished shaving his head.
“See Crooner? Simple. That took me, what, ten seconds?”
“That doesn’t even come close to explainin the sanctity of the Sinnsear! It’s much more than a genealogical map, and ye know it!” Croon cried, shaking an oversized finger in Krazziks face before turning back to Kedryn.
“The Sinnsear ties us all together, regardless if we be o' the Hill, Mountain, or Deep clans. Each o’ us wear it proudly, proving we are part o’ the Great Clan going back to the Three and Five! Our greatest achievements, as well as our worst wrongs, are proudly displayed for all to see! It shows how we, the true children of the Mother, became the delvers of mysteries and masters of fire and forge! And that barely be scratching the surface!”
“Peace, Crooner. Peace,” Krazzik said, standing up and laying his hand on the cook’s shoulder. “Aye, that all be important. But when mining, ye take one measured swing at a time, lest ye collapse the whole o’ the mountain on top of ye. This be the same. There be plenty o’ time to teach him the right o’ things. But now, we have more important matters to tend to, like thanking our rescuers right and proper.”
The grubby dwarf sighed, then stood tall, giving his chief a firm nod.
A feeling of import came over the group as Krazzik turned to face Glade, the light revealing his spiraling tattoos as if a heavy crown framed the sides of his head. The clan chief's hair was even tied back into a braid to keep the shaven sides clear and in full view for everyone to see.
Every dwarf present stood, falling in behind or to the side of Bragden, who stood to Krazzik’s right, and Croon, who stood to the left.
Glade, Riya, and Kedryn quickly followed suit, standing before the group of dwarves.
“Now that I be presentable, I would like to thank ye fer what ye done for us. Beyond all expectations, ye and yer friends saved me and me clan, killed our captors to the last Gnoll and, what’s more, ye saved me boy, twice,” tears came to Krazzik’s eyes as Dabbin ran between the group of dwarves to wrap his arms around his father’s waist. Before continuing, Krazzik rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I canna thank ye enough. Normally, we would pay ye your weight in gold or dwarvish steel, as would be right and proper. Circumstances being as they are, I can only offer ye what I have left. Me name and me honor.”
Each dwarf nodded, some hitting their fists to their chest repeatedly while others stomped their feet.
“Captain Glade o’ no clan, I, Krazzik Slaghammer, Chief o’ the Slaghammer Clan, do extend to you the offer o’ blood and bond. To carry me name for good or ill, and to be recognized as a member o’ the Great Clan. As such, I promise to take ye as ye are. No more, no less. Yer friends shall become my friends. Yer enemies my enemies.”
Silence filled the room as a literal weight of unseen pressure settled over Glade.
Attention! Krazzik Slaghammer, Clan Chief of the Slaghammers, has officially offered you status as a Blood Brother!
Warning! Dwarves are xenophobic by nature and will more often than not choose another dwarf over that of any other race, regardless of circumstance. By offering you status as Blood Brother, Krazzik Slaghammer is declaring you are not only a member of his clan, but of the Great Clan as well, and will enjoy all rights, privileges, and obligations thereunto.
Note: A word of caution. Blood feuds have been known to be declared on those who reject this offer. Tread lightly.
Do you accept? Y/N
Glade was stunned. The quest he and the others had completed for Krazzik had alluded to another reward, but he wasn’t expecting this.
Riya gasped, her reaction more akin to his own.
Note: Bei’Kedryn Serevlir, a bonded, has attempted to accept the Blood Bond on your behalf. However, this obligation is offered to you, and you alone, and cannot be taken by another, even your Shared Bond.
Glade eyed the Corporal. They had spoken at length about this very thing, which meant the Kid was either caught up in the moment or he was trying to send him a message.
Kedryn looked back, subtly nodding his head up and down.
After a moment, Riya joined him, giving an almost imperceptible nod.
Glade turned his full attention back to Krazzik and those standing in front of him as he sorted through his jumbled thoughts.
Every dwarf present took a step forward, crowding the already tight space even further.
Glade quickly ran through the many reasons why this was a terrible idea. He had his other oaths and obligations to consider. Sure, he was in a strange land, and friends in the right places could only help. Another problem was the wording of Krazzik’s bond was open ended, and as much as he wanted to believe in their honorable intentions, experience said there was always a catch to any gift. Just what exactly were the dwarves hoping to get out of this deal?
Naturally, he was drawn to the offer. In fact, an indescribable force was practically pushing him into saying yes. Call it instinct, a higher power, or endorphins, his soul sang when he thought about allying himself with Krazzik and his clan. With the exception of his misadventures with Vlad, his instincts had never been wrong.
“Krazzik, I am humbled at your offer. I feel impressed to let you know that I have oaths and obligations to those of my homeland, and my team, that I cannot renounce. In addition, I am charged with Riya’s safety, and will do all within my power to ensure she is returned to her people. I cannot sacrifice the honor of my country, nor endanger Riya in any way.”
“Ye show wisdom I thought lost on most humans, which makes me believe ye understand the value and importance o’ me offer. But as I said, I promise to take ye as ye are. No more, no less. I expect nothing else. What say ye?”
Long seconds passed as he met Krazzik’s searching stare with one of his own, both trying to peer into the others soul.
There were certain to be ramifications, and he couldn’t help but feel his brands and their association with the Eight had something to do with this. But most importantly, he needed allies if he was going to find his team and a way home.
“I am honored, and accept your offer of blood and bond,” Glade said, mentally selecting yes.
Krazzik nodded, clasping wrists with Glade. Bragden and Croon then placed a hand on their chief’s shoulders, followed by all the other dwarves doing the same until the entire group was linked.
At some unspoken command Croon began to hum, raising and lowering the pitch and volume until the cave walls began to thrum in resonance.
“I, Krazzik Slaghammer, clan chief o’ the Slaghammers, do welcome ye, Captain Glade, into me clan by right o’ honor and deed. Before the eyes of the Mother and me clan, I accept ye as Blood Brother. Bonded family, regardless o’ birth or race. I see you as ye are and accept ye without reservation.”
Glade’s wrist flared momentarily in pain as a foreign energy ran through him, bleeding through his broken mana channels until it soaked into his very soul.
Words came unbidden to his lips.
“With my honor, and before the Mother and my new brothers, I accept your offer of blood and bond. Blood Brothers. Bonded family, regardless of birth or race. I see you as you are and accept you without reservation.”
“So witnessed,” the dwarves said in unison. Croon stopped humming, the sound echoing through the cave slowly dying.
Congratulations! You have accepted the request of a Blood Bond from Krazzik Slaghammer, of the Slaghammer Clan. A Blood Bond is one of many bond variants and is used to adopt another into a family, clan, house, or people as if you were one of their own. +1 to Charisma. +10% increase in learning the skills, magic, or abilities of those you share a bond with. You are granted access to dwarven racial abilities at a -25% penalty.
Note: As a Blood Brother to Krazzik Slaghammer, you are literally considered a blood relative and are entitled to all rights, privileges, and abilities passed through his line. While the bond cannot be broken until such a time as your final death or blood betrayal, the strength of your bond will wax and wane depending upon the level of trust had between brothers. Severe penalties will be administered to any who purposefully betray their bonded. Honor your commitments to others, and they in turn will honor you.
Note: Your level of trust with Krazzik Slaghammer is: Neutral. No bonuses or penalties assigned.
Note: You now have access to Krazzik Slaghammer’s status page.
“Ta-da!” Dabbin yelled, jumping up to give Glade another high five.
Krazzik smiled while the others laughed and cheered.
After several congratulatory slaps on the back, some of which actually registered minor damage, everyone dispersed to their own areas. Kedryn immediately began peppering Croon with questions, their cook only too happy to provide elaborate answers.
In the bustle of the crowd, Riya slowly sat back down unnoticed by all as she quietly pushed her uneaten food around with a spoon.
“Adopted?” Glade asked as soon as the crowd dispersed.
“Aye,” Krazzik chuckled, taking in Glade’s concerned look. “Thats what a blood bond means. Why, are ye havin second thoughts already?”
“Not at all,” Glade said quickly. “Just trying to understand what, exactly, I just agreed to.”
“Not to worry! Ye won’t have to worry ‘bout shave yer head until Bragden can make another set o’ tattooing needles.”
Glade blanched, which caused Krazzik to laugh all the louder.
“We’ll discuss more o’ the bond and what it means while we’re explorin the tunnel. But before that, let me and me boys finish shaving so we can all show our heritage proudly as is good and proper,” Krazzik said, turning to take the knife from Bragden.
“Hold on a minute, you're joking about me having to shave and tattoo my head, right?”
Krazzik laughed all the louder.