Year 3043 AGD
Month: New Life
Second Sixthday
Continent of Terroval
City of Safeharbor
Cliff’s End
Nim’s mansion
Victor was excited. The last of the children would find a place to live today. Nim had spent time with each child, learning what their interests were and where their strengths lay, and he had found them a place to live accordingly. If they wanted to become scholars, he put them into an academy. If they wanted to be artists, he sent them to a school of the arts. Victor was thrilled for his friends, because they would all get an opportunity to succeed. He was even more elated for himself; soon he would start his real training with Nim. Ashur had already pulled Shawnrik aside and started to teach him how to use all of the weapons he knew, which seemed to be just about all of them.
It was spring, and the birds had all returned from wherever it was they went during the winter months. Flowers were beginning to sprout everywhere throughout the city instead of in just those few places that could afford to have the plants magically tended. It was the time of year that brought the city new life. Victor was fairly positive that was the reason for the month’s name, though Nim had said something about birth rates when asked. Sometimes it was so hard to get a straight answer out of the man.
There was an excited buzz on the streets of Safeharbor as information slowly trickled in about the happenings that had been missed in the other civilized parts of the world during the winter. Some news was bound to come in from one source or another during the winter, usually from the lands of the Protectorate, but now the ships had begun coming into harbor more frequently, bringing news from the entire world. Yet more tidings would be shared when the caravans began to arrive from the various communities on the continent.
Victor moved away from the window of his room, peeled off his nightclothes, and walked into the adjoining room for a bath. After drying off, he put on his street clothes and went downstairs to start the day. Victor found Shawnrik admiring the lion statue in the mansion’s entryway and greeted him warmly.
“Want to go into the city today?” he asked.
“Oh, I can’t,” Shawn said, rubbing his arm subconsciously. “I’ve got more practice with Ashur today, and I’m gonna need all my strength.”
“Well, at least he is training you. I’ve had to occupy myself mostly with books from the library these last few months. There are a lot of really good books in there, by the way. Nim hasn’t started teaching me much yet. He’s been too busy finding homes for everyone—not that I’m ungrateful for that, but he could spare five minutes to teach me something more than once an eightday.”
“Maybe he’s tryin’ to teach ya patience?” Shawnrik said with a laugh. “Cypheria knows you could use more of that.”
“I’m patient. I just don’t like to wait around.” Victor smiled back at his friend. “Besides, it’s almost springtime. I feel so cooped up in here.”
“Good, then you won’t mind coming with me to the south gate to start this year’s negotiations on the prices of various items,” a voice emanating from directly behind them stated, causing both boys to jump.
Victor pulled his dagger, and Shawnrik assumed a fighting stance with his fists balled. When you lived in the Docks District, you learned not to let people get behind you.
Nim assumed a casual stance as if he wasn’t being threatened with violence by two children. “Good reaction time,” he mumbled.
“Price negotiations?” Victor asked, ignoring the quiet compliment and sheathing his dagger; then he added, voice somber, “That’s what you’re going to do?”
“Yes. It will teach you something about diplomacy. This will mark the beginning of what I will teach you this year. It’s not so much about being able to get the right price as it is about being able to read a person. I know you are naturally good at that, but I can teach you the subtler nature of business.”
Victor looked at Shawnrik, and both rolled their eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me. Being able to read a person is an extraordinarily valuable skill in life. I’m going to teach you etiquette, proper grammar, which you are already rather well-versed in, and all of the other more sophisticated arts that one must know to converse with merchants and nobility.”
Victor looked at him, dumbstruck. “Me? Converse with nobility? I think you hit your head when you woke up this morning.” Shawnrik laughed, but Nim didn’t.
“I’m quite serious. I’m going to prepare you for the grand adventure that awaits you in life, and I’m going to do that by teaching you the finer points first,” he said. “Then, we can move on to the livelier part. That should give you some incentive to learn quickly,” he added with a smile. “Now, let’s get some breakfast.”
As they walked down the hall, Shawnrik asked, “Do lions really exist?”
“Do lions exist? That’s like asking if orcs are real. Of course they exist, they are just as real as dragons. Just because you haven’t seen something before doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. Can you see the air? No, but we know it’s there because we breathe it. We can feel it on our faces when there is a breeze.”
“Okay, I get the point. It was just a question,” Shawnrik sounded sorry that he had asked.
“I can see the air…” Victor mumbled to himself.
“No, don’t be sorry for asking. I may be a little abrupt sometimes, but there is little I hate more than ignorance. If you have questions, just ask me,” Nim replied, missing Victor’s response.
“Okay. How old are you?” Victor asked.
“Thirty-six,” Nim quickly responded.
“How old is Ashur?” Shawnrik asked.
“Thirty-four.”
“How come you’re not married?” Victor’s eyebrow rose as he asked.
“Because I… next question,” he said, looking over at the boy cautiously. He had a feeling what was coming next.
“Who’s Erin?” Victor asked.
Nim sighed when his feeling became reality. “She’s a mage of incredible power… and the love of my life.”
“Why did she leave?” Shawnrik didn’t mean to ask that one aloud, but it had slipped out anyway.
“She said I was settling down too early. I tried to tell her that there was plenty of excitement in Safeharbor, but she was young and wanted to see the world.” His stare became a bit vacant as he talked about Erin, as if he could see her outside the giant window.
“How old is she?” Victor said, adopting a softer tone.
“She will be twenty-five soon.” He opened the door to the dining hall and let the boys walk in.
“What does she look like?” Victor asked, glad he was finally getting Nim to open up.
“What does who look like?” Ashur questioned from inside the dining hall.
“Erin,” Shawnrik replied.
“Oh, Erin… now there is a lass. She has the greenest eyes that you have ever seen and hair the color of an evening sunset. Like the skyline at dusk was set on fire just to complement it. She was shapely even when we first met her at thirteen—powerful even then. Nim somehow convinced her dad to let her come with us on a quest to find who knows what. She traveled with us for a few years, and then she became a woman right before our eyes. Long story short, one day I found her cornering Nim, telling him that if he didn’t kiss her right there that she would be gone in the morning. I’ve never met two people who loved each other more… or who were each so set on having their way.”
“Aren’t we going a little deep into the question, Ashur?” Nim asked dryly.
“No, not really,” he shot back with a smile. Between mouthfuls, Ashur continued talking about their adventures straight through breakfast, everyone at the table listening intently. His tone turned sad as he reached the end of the story. “Then, a few years ago, Nim told us that he had acquired enough money and property to suit his taste. Said he was gonna make a life for himself in Safeharbor. Erin was only twenty-two at the time, and she said that she wasn’t finished exploring and learning yet.” He looked at Victor. “She’s got a head like yours on her shoulders. Anyway, she left. And Nim went through this phase for almost a year where he just did sculptures and paintings, until one day I told him that if he didn’t do something else, I was gonna leave, too.
“He told me he had one more painting to do—just one more, he promised, and then he would pull out of his slump. He said that he felt he had to do the painting.” Ashur pointed to the large mural portraying the armies of light and darkness. “True to his word, it was the last one he did. Took him a few eightdays, but I’d say it was worth the year of sulking. So, now Nim and I get our jollies from scaring merchants and hunting whatever baddy comes into the caverns below.”
The boys took a deep breath with Ashur as he finished telling the story. Nim sat in his chair, staring off into the nearly cloudless sky outside.
“Wow, that’s a story, alright. You should write that down in a book,” Victor said enthusiastically.
Nim looked over at him and said, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I never know if she is alive. Once in a while, I’ll get a message of one sort or another from her. Once, she popped in for the evening and then was gone the next morning. No, love and adventure are two things that should never mix.”
There was silence in the room for quite a few minutes.
“Well, I think we’ve all sat around reminiscing enough today. Shawnrik, go put on your training gear and meet me out back. We’ll see you two later,” Ashur said, nodding good day to Victor and Nim as he stood.
“Yes, we have work to do, too. We will see you later. Don’t be too hard on the boy, Ashur,” Nim said with a grin.
“No harder than he can take, I assure you. And don’t bore Victor too much out there.” He winked at Victor.
Shortly thereafter, Nim and Victor left for the market to discuss prices, mingle with traders, and see what information could be garnered.
Year 3043 AGD
Month: Preparation
Third Day
Continent of Terroval
City of Safeharbor
Cliff’s End
Nim’s mansion
During the last two months, Nim had continued to train Victor in the many arts of diplomacy. Meanwhile, Shawnrik was learning how to use the art of intimidation—aggressive negotiation, as Ashur liked to call it. Ashur told Nim that he was pleased with how fast Shawnrik absorbed what he was taught, with how capable the boy was becoming. Ashur had managed to teach him the proper use of just about every weapon in his arsenal. It was staggering, the number of times during those first two months that Victor had heard Ashur saying that the boy had improved. The people of Safeharbor and much of the rest of the continent of Terroval were exceptionally gifted when it came to fighting and learning. Then there were men like Ashur, who seemed to be born to it. Shawnrik, however, was not only gifted at fighting; he was driven by a desire to improve that stunned the men. Shawnrik was still nowhere near capable enough to go out saving the world, in Ashur’s opinion, but Victor knew that he would be soon.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Summer was quickly approaching, and the city was moving at full speed like an anthill that had been kicked. The month of Preparation was so named because it was the time of year in which the countries of the world prepared for the battles that summer would bring. The previous month, Time of Storms—simply referred to as Storms by most—was usually a chaotic month for traveling. Storms, it was said, was when the goddess Terra, looking out over the world as Valorious brings life to the flowers and the fields, begins to tire of her time with Arroval and begins to quarrel with him something fierce. It comes to the point at which their passion is so intense that the world is filled with storms until, finally, she can bear it no longer and runs back to the arms of her other lover, who heals the yearning within her. From the books Victor had read, he was pretty sure that the gods just made sure things were running correctly and didn’t really affect the world to that level, but it was a good story nonetheless.
Perhaps the greatest thing to happen, in the boys’ opinions, was that Nim and Ashur had taken them along on their last few trips below the city. They loved feeling like they were helping the city as they hunted down the nefarious creatures living below. It had surprised the boys to learn that there were so many different types of creatures down there, and that only a handful of them ever became a problem.
Nim sat on the roof of his estate, watching the people pass by and talking to Victor about leaders of foreign lands and other dignitaries or notables, as he called them. Victor was supposed to memorize the names and descriptions of entire families, the idea being that he should be able to supply a name to the brief descriptions that Nim would give.
Victor had gone through most of the lessons at an alarming speed. He had devoted all of his time to learning what Nim was teaching him so that he might move on to the next phase of his lessons. He’d sat through meetings with merchants, listening to them complain about the muddy roads of spring and other trivial matters. (Nim said that they complained about the muddy roads every year, but it didn’t stop them from coming up earlier than others just to get a better price for their goods.) He had gone to what Nim called minor noble parties and had gotten his cheeks squeezed more times than he would like to admit.
There were many things that could be learned at such parties, and not many people took notice of an eight-year-old boy nosing around unless they were the type who paid particular attention to such things. Victor had noticed that almost all of these nobles were too busy watching each other to be aware of the fact that he even existed. He had met several merchants’ daughters who were around his same age. Each time, he had heard comments about how great of a couple they would make in a few years. Victor had to fight for control of his natural reflexes during a particularly enthusiastic discussion of such matters so that he didn’t roll his eyes.
Nim introduced Victor as his son, and it was true that he had adopted him in a way; however, Victor knew that Nim was simply using him at these events for his own purposes, so he derived little pleasure from them even though he was learning things. He would inform Nim about what merchants had been discussing, and Nim would use the information against them later. After a while, people started to catch on and wouldn’t talk about much in front of Victor, which he didn’t mind at all. At that point, Nim started having Victor talk to the children of whomever he might want to find information about. This method actually gleaned a lot more than Victor had thought it would. Of course, a large portion of what he learned in these conversations was utterly useless to Nim’s plans, but it was still quite interesting. Over time, people did start to take more notice of Victor, and some of the talk at the parties started turning in his direction. Shortly thereafter, Nim had decided that they were not going to anymore minor parties.
Ashur and Shawnrik came up to the roof and stood at the edge, watching all of the movement down below for a while before Ashur turned to Nim.
“I’m taking Shawnrik out adventuring.”
“The itch has finally taken hold, has it, Ashur?” Nim said with a slight chuckle that somehow turned somber. “I knew this would be coming.”
Ashur laughed and leaned on the railing of the roof. “Yeah, I’ve been itching to go for a few years now, but that’s not why I’m going. I’ve taught Shawnrik just about all I can without him seeing more action. These regular forays into the caverns just aren’t cutting it. He needs to be deep in the thick of it to really learn. I figure we’ll head north and probably be gone for at least a year.”
Shawnrik had been looking at the ground but now looked at Victor sadly. “A year, Vic… you gonna be alright for a year?”
Victor had been learning how to read people for the last few months, and Shawnrik was coming in loud and clear. He wanted to go, but he wanted his friend’s approval. “Shawn, I think it’s a great idea. Nim and I are just going to dinner parties and boring things like that anyway—nothing dangerous that we would need you or Ashur here to guard our backs for. Isn’t that right, Nim?”
Nim looked at him and smiled. “That’s right, Shawnrik. There is nothing for you to learn being cramped in this dusty, old mansion.” He motioned with a sweep of his arm. “Out there is where the real adventure lies. We will be just fine without you two for a year. We’ll be as careful as a couple of druids with seedlings.”
Ashur gave them a look that said he knew what they were up to. Shawnrik, however, had been growing more and more excited as they talked, barely standing still when Ashur asked, “So, it’s ok if we go, then?”
“Yes, but you must hire a cleric. I’ve been adventuring with you a long time, and I remember occasionally having to heal you a half dozen times a day. You should see if Dunnagan Stormhammer is still in town.” He tossed Ashur a key. “Just take some money out of the vault. If Dunnagan is in town, you probably won’t have to pay him much, but if he’s not, then you’ll have to pay quite a bit.”
“Who’s Dunnagan?” Victor and Shawnrik asked almost simultaneously.
Ashur looked at them. “He’s a dwarf. I think you’d both like him. He’s a cleric of Cypheria. There’s nothing he loves more than cutting through a horde of Siniquitan minions to help someone out. He takes his companions’ safety very seriously, but we have to dive into the fray to get him out half of the time because he doesn’t consider his own safety quite as much.” The men laughed at the inside joke. “Oh, I hope that old hardhead is still around.”
“As do I. There isn’t anyone whom I would trust more to keep you two alive.” Victor knew that Nim was being completely honest and found himself with an already great respect for this Dunnagan without even having met him.
“Well, then, as our friend Dunnagan would say… I go!” Ashur pulled Shawnrik along with him. Victor and Shawn waved their goodbyes until the older boy disappeared down the steps. Victor took a deep breath.
“That was superbly done, Victor,” Nim stated, re-evaluating his opinion of his apprentice. “I think we might be ready to move onto other things. I’ve been waiting for that lug to figure out he was going to take Shawnrik out adventuring. We can’t have two meat shields around making a lot of noise when there is business to be done.” He smiled wickedly, the look somehow filling a gap in the man’s features that Victor hadn’t known to be missing. “It’s time you learn the darker secrets of our art,” Nim went on. “I think we need a little change of scenery. I’ve heard a few rumors about some nasty people who we need to have a talk with.”
Victor didn’t know what to think. He was excited that he would finally be learning the other side of Nim’s teachings, but he was suddenly wary about what exactly that would entail.
City of Safeharbor
Near the South Gate
The Drunken Gnome
Ashur didn’t have to look long to find Dunnagan Stormhammer. He wasn’t a hard dwarf to find if you knew where to look. First, they checked the Temple of Cypheria in the Hall of the One God. They found out that he had been there recently, but nobody had seen him for several days. Next, they went to the South Ward to the Caravan City and found The Drunken Gnome, a dwarven-run establishment that served the southern sector. There was a sign out front depicting a dwarf tipping up an empty keg of ale and a gnome passed out in front of a small glass that was still half full. They found Dunnagan at the bar, telling stories about past exploits to whomever would listen.
“Aye, that’s how it happened. Me buddy Ashur was wadin’ through them orcs like he was siftin’ sand. Then, this big ugly son of an ogre came out of the cave and started yellin’ all kinds of profanities at the man. I stood up on a rock and started callin’ his mother all sorts of foul things, and then I gave him a good look at me backside. Well, to say the least, this made the overly large orc a bit mad, and he came barrelin’ down the hill, knockin’ over his own kind just to get at me. Unfortunately for him, there was another in the crowd waitin’ for the brute. Before he knew it, Nim was underfoot, slashin’ the backs of the beast’s heels. There were dead orcs pilin’ up and more orcs than you could count still comin’ out of the cave. I watched Nim put his dagger in the big one’s eye and then get swarmed over by a dozen orcs, so I wade into the battle tryin’ to reach Nim…”
“And he gets to where Nim was and finds that he has already made it back to the rock that Dunnagan had been on only moments before,” Ashur finished for him. Dunnagan turned around to see him, and they clasped arms.
“Ashur, me friend! It’s good to see ya, lad,” Dunnagan said cheerily.
“Then what happened?” an old dwarf nearby asked, eyeing Ashur carefully and then giving him a nod of respect.
“Well, Dunnagan let out a whoop of excitement and started to tear into the orcs, cutting down more than his fair share. He and I wound up fighting back to back. We fought for so long that, eventually, we were standing with our backs to a pile of dead orcs, and we had to take turns resting. Dunnagan was casting spells to ward off fatigue and to heal the little scrapes we were getting—”
“Little scrapes! Bah! You put so much of yer own blood into the ground that I thought the plants were going to grow carnivorous!” Dunnagan barked, slapping Ashur’s back. “And if not for all the orc blood taintin’ everything, they might have!” Everyone within earshot laughed.
“Anyway, Nim had been standing up on the pile behind us, killing anything that came from that direction. It was evening now, and there was hardly any light. Dunnagan and I were weary, spells or no. Suddenly, we hear Nim say with finality, ‘Oh, I tire of this!’ Next thing we know, the world lights up around us like the sun has just come out. As if that wasn’t enough to scare the orcs back into their hole, Nim lets out a shout that deafens me, Dunnagan, and every orc within thirty feet. Hurt a hell of a lot, too. Most of the orcs were running about, but there were a few that were standing back a ways. Nim starts to sing this haunting melody, and a lot of the orcs left milling about start attacking each other. Those that weren’t killing each other must have figured they were fighting some sort of powerful spirit and ran off with the rest of their friends.” Ashur took a swig of the ale that Dunnagan handed him.
“Well, why didn’t he do something like that earlier?” the old dwarf asked.
“You know, we asked him that same question,” Dunnagan said, “and he looked us in the eye and said, ‘It’s all about timing, gentlemen.’ That’s all he said. ‘Course, you have to understand that Nim’s a bard by trade. A showman. To him, the whole world is a stage.”
“That… and you can never quite tell what’s going on in that head of his,” Ashur said jovially.
“Aye, and now it’s time for me to be seein’ to what it is you hunted me down for,” Dunnagan said to Ashur, and the other people around the table took the hint and began to go their separate ways. The dwarf led them to an empty table in the back before he noticed Shawnrik tailing them. “Well I’ll be a bearded gnome. Ashur, you got a young giant followin’ ya there.”
Ashur smiled. “He’s the reason I’m here. I’m gonna take him out and teach him what it’s like out there. He’s not a giant, but he fights like one.” Shawnrik puffed up at this remark.
“Aye, maybe not a giant, but I’ll have a theological conversation with a gnome if he doesn’t have some of their blood in him. You got some giant blood in yer lineage, boy? Ya know, there’s been quite a bit of interbreeding between yer two races over the years. The civilized ones, at least—not thems from across the barrier, mind you. I’ll deny it if you ever tell any of my kin I said it, but ‘tis a shame that more of them can’t abide the rest of us, ‘cause some of them are mighty fine craftsman, even if they are all daft.” He had taken on lecturing tone that Shawnrik thought fit the dwarf quite well.
“Well, I dunno if I got any giants in my family tree, but from what the lady who raised me ‘fore Walkins took me in said, my father was a Stroml’dier mercenary from up north.”
“How come you never told me any of this?” Ashur said, looking at the boy in a new light. “Stroml’dier in your blood would explain a lot!” He slapped the boy on the back and motioned for him to take a seat.
Shawnrik shrugged as he sat down. “I dunno. You never asked.”
“Ya know, the Stroml’dier are descendants of an alliance between giants from the Storm and Cloud clans and a clan of human men who went north to defend the barrier hills. Their name used to be Storm Soldiers, but somewhere along the line, it got twisted into Stroml’dier,” Dunnagan stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
The boy looked from the dwarf to Ashur. When his mentor nodded, Shawnrik nearly burst. “The Stroml’dier are descended from giants? I…” He went quiet as the implications of this new development sunk in.
Dunnagan started to laugh. “I like the boy already, Ashur. He reminds me a lot of you, exceptin’ that I think he’s going to be a lot bigger than you in a few years, eh?”
“And he’ll be better than me a few years after that if I have anything to say about it.” Ashur looked at Shawnrik proudly. “He’s going to have to keep up with someone even worse than Nim, I’m thinking.” He looked at Dunnagan to see if the dwarf had caught his meaning and could tell that he had.
“Worse than Nim, eh? That’s a tall order, boy. So, Nim’s got himself an apprentice, and you’ve got one, too?” He took a drink of ale and sat still for a moment, looking at Shawnrik over the rim of his mug. Finally, he nodded. “Aye, I’ll go with ya. Not just ‘cause it’s you askin’, neither. I want to meet this boy that’s more dangerous than Nim, and I want to see what we can do with this lad here. I can see a fire burnin’ in his belly, and I like it!”
“By the way, isn’t there something against drinking when you’re a cleric?” Ashur asked with a wink.
“Bah, Cypheria wouldn’t deny a dwarf a drink between jobs. She’s not a cruel mistress. I s’pose it is time to start the next job, though.” He downed the ale and slammed the mug onto the table. “No drinkin’ ‘til we’re clear of danger!” He looked down at his empty mug and said a short prayer. “Cypheria, protect those of us that now venture forth to rid the world of vileness.”
They stood, and Ashur dropped a few coins on the table before they went outside to get their mounts and head off on their journey.
“I’ll be right back. I have to get Thunder from the stables.” Dunnagan started off towards the stables next to the inn.
“That old goat is still alive?” Ashur called after him.
“Nay, lad. This is Thunder’s son, Thunder Junior. He’s bigger and ornerier than Thunder ever was.” He disappeared around the corner.
“Great,” Ashur mumbled.
“What?” Shawnrik asked.
“You’ll see.” Ashur got onto his mount and Shawnrik followed suit.
Several minutes later, Dunnagan came riding out on the biggest ram that Shawnrik had ever seen. He wondered how it kept its head up with the massive horns that curled on top of it. Its wool was a grey that reminded him of a storm cloud. That must be why he’s called Thunder, Shawnrik thought.
He was wrong. Dunnagan put the ram into a canter to meet up with Ashur and Shawnrik, and the noise that arose from Thunder’s hooves made it apparent where his name had come from. Everyone within a block stopped to watch him canter over to the two horses.
When Dunnagan reined back a bit to bring Thunder to a walk, the noise abated, and most people went back to what they had been doing. Still, Shawnrik couldn’t help but gape at the massive beast. It was a full three hands taller than the horse he was riding, making it not a small animal by any measure, but the dwarf on its back made it look that much larger. Shawnrik was a head taller than Dunnagan but seeing the dwarf on Thunder’s back made him suddenly feel much smaller. Everything about Thunder said power, and he wasn’t so sure that any less could be said about Dunnagan himself.
“We ready to go?” the dwarf asked from atop his mount.
“We have to make a stop for some essentials, but then we’re off,” Ashur said, shaking his head at Dunnagan and Thunder.
“Good. I need to get some more jerked beef and some feed for Thunder.”
Shawnrik listened to the two talk and didn’t say a thing. He was in awe of both of the men who would be training him to survive, and he didn’t want to miss a thing that either of them had to say.