Two figures ascended the long snowfield from the valley floor to the white mountain's delving. Already they had covered miles of it yet more lay above them. One pulled a sledge with buckles and straps suspending it from his head and shoulders and hips while the other, too light to properly break trail, walked on top of the fresh snow and turned every few paces to watch the sledger. The snow came up to his chest, yet he swung elbows and palms and knees in such ways to plow through the worst of it. She skipped. He swore. The sun passed behind clouds and emerged again.
As they came around the last arete the [hornkeeper] challenged them.
"Oy. Who goes?"
"All y'all are a bunch of grumps," said the leader.
"Oy lass, who's that there with ye? Oy. Oy! Ye stand back!"
The one with the sledge lunged forward to send the [hornkeeper] reeling and with a sweep of [Booky's blade] he sliced the mouthpiece clean off the [hornkeeper]'s horn. They watched it careen down the slope.
"Well shit," said the [hornkeeper].
"Y'all best get the lady of the mountain," said the girl.
The [hornkeeper]'s beard hid his scowl so he said some words to make his feelings clear.
The sledger said, "Do what the girl bids."
"Aye, aye, ye just wait here and we'll be seein who's doin who's biddin."
After a few minutes the girl couldn't help herself. She grabbed her companion's hand and leaned toward the delving as if she'd sledge him along into it. Her feet slipped on the icy pavers.
"You're making fine progress," he said.
"Come on and let's go in. We don't have to stand around in the cold."
"You can go ahead, but I made a promise." Without unbuckling the sledge he bent to drink from the flume where it flowed past and then he sat on the stoneform that was strapped onto the sledge.
"Isn't that a sight," said a dwarf from the threshold.
The girl whooped and shouted, "Mym," and ran to embrace her.
The dwarf kissed the girl's forehead and tousled her hair. "Yer gettin te be taller than me."
"Where's Daraway?" said the girl.
"She'll be comin along any minute, but if ye can't wait ye can go on in and meet her on the way. Go on. I won't be long."
The girl started skipping up the pavers, then stopped, ran back to the sledger, and held out her hand for him to shake in the human way.
"Thank you kind Orc for all of y'alls services."
"And?"
"And for not eatin me."
"Anytime, miss Cousins."
The girl disappeared into the mountain.
"Well?" said the dwarf.
"She's a good kid."
"Ye want te come up and see Dara?"
"Afraid not. Got some folks waiting on me."
She came around him and kicked her toe against the sledge. "What's this then?"
"Your uncle."
"Barzun?"
"If you say so."
"How'd he go."
"In my arms. Turned all to stone."
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"Aye that's how it happens with the older ones."
The orc nodded.
"Ye could've left him."
"That's not how dwarves do things."
"No it isn't, but last I checked yer no dwarf."
"Not much of an orc either."
"Hell. I don't know about that. Yer the finest one I know."
"You don't know many."
"Aye but I do know at least one."
The sledger shook his head and turned to take in the view of the valley and the forest crowding along the nearest mountains. "Not bad up here," he said.
"Sure ye don't want te stay?"
"I made a promise."
"Aye and I'm the one ye made it te."
"Dwarves don't go back on their word."
"Bones te ye ye damnable orc. Da might want te put a leaden eye tween the two ye got but Khaz and Dara would love te see ye again."
He shook his head.
"Fine. Here."
She tossed the [orcstone] to him. He caught it with one hand and he [felt] as if he held his own beating heart in his palm.
"Thanks," he said.
He stowed it next to a thin leather journal inside a elkhide satchel of dwarven make. The journal was bound with a black lace scarf and the satchel was tied off a leash of the kind dwarves use to keep their alpenstocks from flying away down the slopes.
"Be careful with it. Dara says too much exposure and ye might find yerself starin at a second head like yer old ogre friend."
"I can barely handle one of me."
"And now ye can go raise a whole army of ye."
"Don't worry. I'm not planning to."
"I know it." She looked down the delving and back to him. "What's next for ye then?"
"Saand says this'll cure the Madlands. Going to start with that."
"And?"
"It's a big world. That northerly trouble with the necromancer needs troubling. Wouldn't mind seeing that green vale you keep talking about."
"Take care ye don't touch the block."
"I'm not going for that. Ogaz thinks there may be more camps down there."
"Yer tusker?"
"He's not mine."
"Don't be an ass. Ye seen what's happenin with the moons?"
"Yes."
"Know what that's about?"
"No."
"Damned if ye aren't the best conversationalist I know, Orc."
The orc smiled. "I'll try harder."
"Aye but I was bein serious. Already got enough yappin between Daraway and Khaz, and now that girl's here too. It'll be a colony of howlers in here."
"You're welcome to come with us."
"I've had enough of yer Madlands for two lifetimes of dwarves."
"I won't be there long."
"No?"
The orc turned up to watch the green moon and the blue moon, now turning gray, and the thin and soundless wires of lightning lancing from one to the other and back again like two gods hurling thunderbolts one upon the other.
She walked out of the delving and came beside him and turned her chin to the sky. "What do ye think it means?"
"It means you'd best sharpen that beardling ax of yours."
She looked at him. "Yer already aimin te do somethin bout it aren't ye."
"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said.
He looked down at her.
He said, "If something needs to be done I know you'll be there to do it. And I'll be there with you. And you can tell Dara if her folk ever find their backbone, I'll be there too. Anytime men come around to take what isn't theirs. Anytime they set a forest to flame. Anytime they open the world to burn up its veins. And if you hear they've finally stuck me well you tell Booky not to pray for me. I don't believe in her god. And if she starts fretting about me roasting in that hell of hers, you tell her the devil's already dead. I killed him and spitted him up and she's invited to the feast."
"I’d say ye’ve never said so much in yer life."
"I'd say you're right." He put a hand on her shoulder. "All I'm saying is I think your folk better find a keeper with a stiffer backbone."
"Oy ye got one in that bag of yers?"
"No, but I know someone perfect for the post."
She chuckled. "Don't think anyone's ever called her perfect for anythin."
She felt him squeeze her shoulder. "Well. She is."
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> +1 [Awareness]: So the world rolls on and on and always there's somewheres gloamin into dawn with dew yet wettin the grass. Eternal sunrises and sunsets. Eternal livin and dyin. (10/10).
> [Awareness] Title Gained: [Idolator] Denotes he with a second sight for icons of power.
> -1 [Rage]: If I could see him again I'd tell him I'm proud of him. (0/10).
> [Rage] Class Gained: [Justiciar] Denotes he who is compelled to administer justice as he sees it.
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> -9 [Vengefulness]: ...she is. (0/10).
> [Vengefulness] Class Gained: [Keeper of the Horn] Denotes she who is the symbolic leader of the delving whose folk shall follow wherever she leads. Probably.