The road stretched out before Talax and his companions, the path winding through the tranquil woods as the afternoon sun cast its golden glow upon the land. The events of the previous night weighed heavily on their minds, yet they pressed onward, seeking solace from the horrors they had witnessed.
As they journeyed, they stumbled upon a serene brook nestled within a small clearing. The gentle sound of water trickling over smooth stones beckoned to them, offering a moment of respite from their grim reality. Qalo’s troubled gaze found solace in the sight of the shimmering water, and without hesitation, he made his way toward it.
"I guess we could use a break," Gormak murmured, and with a soft whistle, the war hog stopped in its tracks. Gormak hopped from the wagon and gave Missy some onions, which the war hog munched with joy.
Talax walked to the brook and sat against a tree, watching Qalo wade into the water, his hands playfully splashing to catch fish. He felt a smile tug at his lips, seeing the half-orc’s childlike enjoyment that brought a momentary spark of light to the otherwise heavy atmosphere.
With the soothing backdrop the brook’s gentle current provided, Talax felt his soul heal little by little from the previous night’s horrors. At some point, Gormak joined him, sitting silently by his side and lit a small fire.
He didn’t know why, but Gormak began speaking. Maybe he was trying to make Talax forget about what he had done last night, to soothe him, even momentarily. Or was it because Gormak had finally found someone he could talk to, someone who didn't mutter the same word again and again. Either way, Talax appreciated the deep cadence of the dwarf’s voice.
“Surface dwarves have their own tales, ones that rarely find their way to the ears of those in the deep caverns,” Gormak began, his voice carrying the weight of years spent on the road, shunned by his own kind.
The crackling flames cast dancing shadows as Talax's curiosity kindled, wanting to know more about dwarven society. "Gormak," Talax began, his gaze fixed on the seasoned dwarf, "tell me more about the differences between surface dwarves and those dwelling within the mountain cities."
Gormak's face softened, but his expression was one of conflicting emotions, longing and envy. "Aye, lad. The deep dwarves, those who thrive within the mountain's embrace, live a life steeped in abundance and tradition. Their cities, carved from the very stone, are monuments to craftsmanship and wealth." Gormak's eyes glazed over with a distant reminiscence as he conjured an image of a magnificent dwarven city.
Talax leaned in, curious to know more. "What are these mountain cities like?" he prodded, eager for a glimpse into a world he'd never seen.
Gormak's voice carried a hint of reverence. "The grandeur, lad, is beyond description. I have only glimpse one of them, I shouldn’t have been there but a friend of mine let me in for a day. Oh... the sights my eyes gazed upon...”
His voice changed, weighted with reverence, "The city stood as epitomes of craftsmanship and grandeur. Picture towering spires of immaculate stone, hewn with precision and etched with ancient runes that sing of the city's legacy."
Talax's imagination wandered, seeking to paint a vivid portrait of the awe-inspiring realm Gormak described. "The very heart of the city," Gormak continued, "is a labyrinth of caverns, echoing with the symphony of artisans at work, the resonating clang of hammers shaping raw metals into masterpieces."
"Each district within the city," Gormak continued, "is a testament to their expertise. The Foundry District, with its roaring furnaces and cascading molten metal, birthes the very essence of their craftsmanship. The Guildhalls, adorned with ornate sculptures and tapestries, echo tales of ancient glory."
He paused, allowing the image to bloom in Talax's mind before continuing, "The Forge Chambers, where the legendary smiths breathe life into metals, shaping them into marvels that defy the imagination. Glistening corridors paved with precious stones and ores whisper of the city's vast wealth."
"The Great Hall," Gormak's voice softened, "a marvel of dwarven architecture, stands as the citadel of their pride. Vast and awe-inspiring, it houses relics of bygone eras, each a testament to their resilience and tradition."
"In contrast," Gormak continued, the fire's flicker mirroring the complexities of the topic, "surface dwarves tread a path born of exile and resilience. Banished from the mountain cities for various transgressions, we find solace beneath the open sky."
Talax's brow furrowed, unsure how to feel about the divide of the dwarven society. "Are all surface dwarves exiles, then?" he inquired, trying to understand the intricacies of their society.
"Aye, lad. Many are born into surface clans, sharing the fate of banishment from birth. The mountain folk guard their secrets fiercely, shunning outsiders from their wealth of knowledge and craftsmanship," Gormak explained, his voice tinged with both admiration and misery.
"The surface clans," Gormak continued, his tone laced with a hint of solemnity, "we are a people of struggle and resilience. Our crafts may lack the opulence of the mountain cities, but we have managed to survive and flourish thanks to our ingenuity.”
"The deep dwarves, they have knowledge and techniques in smithing, sculpting, and engineering, making their skills unmatched," Gormak added, a touch of reverence in his voice. "But such wealth and expertise are hoarded, forbidden to be shared beyond their mountain walls."
Bitterness found its way into his face. “While we are forced to scrape by with what we can find. We are relegated to mules for our rich cousins, selling their dwarven blades and deepsteel armor to the other races. But...” He gave a long-suffering sigh. “When you touch a dwarven dagger, or a deepsteel shield you can sense the care and expertise those hairy bastards have.”
In his face admiration and resentment warred with equal ferocity. “So, this tattoo you have is for your clan?” Talax asked tentatively, and Gormak nodded in affirmation without looking at him.
“Patch doesn’t have the tattoo...” Talax let the words hang in the air, giving the dwarf the chance to either answer him or keep his secrets. Somewhere in the distance he heard Qalo shout in triumph, having finally managed to catch a fish.
“I found Patch in that visit I told you earlier. In truth I was let inside the city because my ‘friend’ needed more workers. You see, there was a plague in the mountain city not long before my arrival and most workers were sick, so he was late in his delivery of crystalore. He let me in, on the condition I work as a miner for a few days. The fool I was, I agreed. I wanted to see a mountain city so bad...” He shook his head and gave a chuckle while Talax was sitting at the edge of his seat.
“I wanted to see a legendary new smith, named Frogal, his items, weren’t simple weapons but pieces of art. His latest creation was a blade that could cleave mountains. The mountain clans revered it, a symbol of their might and heritage. All I managed to see, however, were the dimly lit caverns that echoed with the sounds of pickaxes."
Gormak was interrupted by an excited Qalo, who came bouncing with his arms full of fish. “Look what I caught!” With a wet splash he let the fish land on the ground and with a carefree laugh went back to the brook.
Patch made his presence known with his familiar muttering. “Patch, patch, patch, patch.” He was leaning against Missy and was playing with his metalic disc, unaware they were talking about him.
“That’s where I found Patch. There are foul creatures in the deep caverns, the deeper the miners dig, the more unsettling things you see.” He picked up some sticks and started constructing a small spit to roast the fish. “On the third day I heard screeches, I don’t know what I thought at the moment, but I went to investigate. I found Patch standing in a carpet of dead bodies, foul things, black and twisted, faceless and terrifying.” He continued as he speared the fish and put them on the spit. “Patch was drenched in blood, but none of it was his own. I don’t know how he got there, or how he survived. All I know is that I found a young man, in need of help. So that’s what I did.” The dwarf turned to look fondly at the young man, who had clearly become a son to him.
Stolen novel; please report.
“I asked the miners about him, but none knew of him, how he got there or where he was from. So, I took him with me. All he had with him was that peculiar disc that he plays with all the time. I don’t know... Maybe it’s from his family or something...” Gormak gave a sigh and rotated the fish.
“So, what about you? What’s your story?” Talax paused for a moment, not knowing how to answer. “I am looking for the family of a friend of mine. That’s why we are heading to the cloud monasteries. Maybe the shaman could help us.”
Gormak didn’t look at him but continued with his roasting, his face somewhat disappointed. Was he expecting a different answer? Talax didn’t know, and that made him feel uncomfortable. “Aria, do you think he really doesn’t know that Patch is Godtouched?” He asked. “It appears so. It is actually quite common, most people don’t have an analyze skill, or have a way to detect that someone is Godtouched. The question is what happened to Patch, the story was quite intriguing!” Aria sounded excited for some reason, as if the mysterious story had revitalized her.
After that conversation they kept things light, talking about this and that. The sizzling sounds and the rich aroma of the fish made his mouth water, and they somehow found themselves talking about their favorite dishes, making Talax’s stomach protest even more. He told Gormak about the dishes he had tasted from Franny’s stock while the dwarf told him about his clan's delicacies.
The conversation took a turn for the worse when Qalo joined them and started recounting his favorite dishes, which had an incredible effect on their appetite. Eventually, they ate, with Qalo complaining that their taste was bland and wanting to add stuff to make it more savory. Gormak took a fish to Patch, who barely looked up from his obsession with the metallic disc.
Qalo started snoring, and they decided to spend a little more time resting. The forest seemed safe enough, this far from the dungeon, and he let himself relax for the first time since... He didn't really remember since when.
His eyes opened suddenly when he felt something hit his face. He was immediately on guard; the sense of being attacked had become second nature, and his hand went to his belt to pull his dagger.
When his gaze registered the small bird flattering by his side, his body calmed. The brown bird was flapping his wings in an attempt to fly, but its left wing was sticking out in an awkward angle, and all it managed to do was hop from one place to another.
“You poor thing.” He murmured and Aria cooed inside his head. “It’s precious!” Talax caught the agitated bird and could feel its racing heart in his grasp. He petted its feathery form and said in a soothing voice. “You’ll be fine.” and to Aria he added. “How are we going to make the bird fine?”
“I am not a zoologist Talax! How should I know? Maybe the dwarf has some potion that could help.” Talax nodded despite her snarky tone and went to find Gormak. He was sitting next to Patch, reading him a book, while the young man was playing with his disc.
“Hey, Gormak, do you have anything that could help this little thing?” Gormak looked up from his book and gave an inquisitive look. “Hmm, I carry some potions that are extremely effective for animal companions. I mostly have them, in case something happened to my dear Missy.” He smacked the hog’s backside, prompting the animal to oink.
“Let me see.” He stood up and went around the wagon, after some riffling, he found what he was looking for and came back. “Aren’t you a sweet thing.” The bird chirped, as if acknowledging the dwarf’s words. Gormak took the bird and tied a small stick to its injured wing and then placed a small bowl with a clear liquid in front of the bird.
After some hesitation the small animal drank the potion and both Talax and Gormak waited to see if it worked. They waited for a while, because the bird decided to take a nap on Gormak’s hands. The dwarf gave him a toothy grin. “I reckon she likes me.”
Talax arched an eyebrow. “She? How do you know?” The dwarf scoffed. “Don’t you see the elegant neck, it’s definitely a she!” Talax hummed and then he had an absolutely incredible idea.
“Give her to me!” He exclaimed as he raised his hands with wiggling fingers of excitement. “Why?” Gormak inquired with a frown, unwilling to give over the bird. “I have an idea, give it, give it!” Gormak’s frown deepened, but he finally handed over the small bird.
Talax took it in his grasp, and with an excited smile he cast a spell for the first time, Beast Bonding. The spell didn’t have any hand gestures, but soft words fell out of his lips. His hands started giving off a soft, green light of earth mana and he felt a small string forming and extending from his core in search of an anchor.
Gormak was looking at him with wide eyes, but didn’t speak, he waited to see what would happen. The ten second cast time was enough to wake the bird, and it blinked several times as if it was confused about what was happening.
The small string of mana found the bird's core, and Talax frowned sensing some resistance. He wanted to ask Aria what was happening, but he was afraid he would lose his concentration and fail the spell.
He felt the string trying to find an opening, so it could latch onto the bird’s core, but it was unsuccessful. The seconds were running out and the spell was about to end, he instinctively knew that if that happened before he made a connection with the bird, the spell would ultimately be a failure.
With gritted teeth, he focused on the small string, pouring more mana in an effort to establish a connection. He felt mana flowing like a torrent towards the bird, and in his mind’s eye he could almost see the small core being overwhelmed by the foreign mana, turning a shade of green. He felt the bird shiver from the assault and Gormak demanded to know what he was doing, but Talax couldn't respond he had only a couple of seconds before the spell ended.
The overwhelming power tore down whatever defenses the small, fragile bird had, and the string finally managed to find an opening and make a connection. A rudimentary bond was created, and a new consciousness brushed against his mind. It was nothing like the bond he had with Aria, where he could sometimes feel even her emotions.
This bond felt fragile and somewhat foreign, as if he could barely see someone over the horizon. Still a connection was formed, and the small bird settled down, wiggling in his grasp as if it was trying to find a better spot to sleep.
Congratulations! You have bonded with a level 6 Chipping Sparrow!
You can now communicate in the smallest of ways with your companion depending on its intelligence!
You can now give simple commands to your companion and expect to follow them depending on its intelligence!
Talax heard Aria’s announcements and a small smile gave way to his face as he looked at the bird. A frown though, took its place when he recalled the difficulty, he had in establishing a connection.
“Aria, what happened when I cast the spell? At first, I couldn’t bond with the bird, and I had to use more mana.” He heard Gormak ask a question, but he told him to wait a second.
“The beast bonding spell works essentially like a leash. It grabs onto the beast’s core and corals it. Every living being has the fundamental urge to be free, so when the spell is cast, the beast’s core unconsciously rebels, in an effort to retain its independence. Using more mana is a way to combat that reaction, but it’s not ideal in most cases. Stronger beasts would not be affected by such a tactic, you would need an immense amount of mana to overwhelm them. Most beast masters train their spells and abilities, willpower is the key attribute in most cases. You have to ascertain your will over the natural instinct of the animal. What you did to the bird worked, but it was extremely risky, since you could have hurt it irrevocably.”
Talax listened carefully and nodded when Aria mentioned how dangerous his attack with mana had been, he had sensed that the bird was dangerously close to being overwhelmed. “Thank you, Aria. If it wasn’t for you, I would have been fumbling blindly.”
Aria hummed in pleasure. “It’s nice to hear that my assistance is being appreciated.” Talax turned to look at Gormak who was staring at him with serious eyes.
“So, you are an earth mage?” The dwarf inquired and Talax nodded. “Something like that. wanted to test my new spell and I made a bond with the bird.” Gormak nodded as if he had gathered that much.
Talax searched for his connection with the bird and followed the flimsy string of earth mana until he reached the core of the bird. Experimentally he tagged at the bond and the bird looked at him with a cock of its head. “That is cool!” He murmured. Gormak studied their interactions with interest and waited to see what would happen next.
Talax opened his palms and told the bird, “Fly!” The bird, however, kept looking at him with blinking eyes, without so much as a flutter of its wings. “Talax, the bird cannot understand words! You must convey your intent through your bond,” advised Aria, and Talax wanted to facepalm at the obvious problem.
He unwrapped the healed wing and through the bond, he sent a thought to the bird. This time, the animal seemed to understand him, and carefully, almost hesitantly, it opened its wings. After a few flaps, the bird went airborne and gave a chirp of delight.
Talax laughed in excitement, and Gormak gave a deep chuckle. The commotion woke up the half-orc, who came to see what was happening. Once Talax told him what had transpired, Qalo gave him ideas on what to command the bird. Talax told the bird to fly in circles, do cartwheels, and once he told it to dive and scare Gormak, who gave a shout of surprise and then swore at Talax.
They all had fun with their new companion, and Qalo was clapping nonstop. After some time, the bird seemed to want to show off and impress the half-orc because it started doing tricks all on its own, without Talax’s prompts.
Talax grew bored after a while and let the bird entertain Qalo while he talked to Gormak about their plans on reaching the Cloud Monasteries. Gormak appeared to be toying with the idea of following them there, so that he could sell his wares at the village Foothill Hollow, where most adventurers stopped to rest before reaching their destination.
It came out of nowhere. He heard Qalo’s shout and before Talax could react, the connection with the sparrow shattered and he felt an explosion of mana impact his core. The world around him turned fuzzy for a moment and then he heard Aria’s voice.
Your Chipping Sparrow companion has been killed!
You have suffered severe backlash from the severing of the bond!
You are unable to cast magic for the next hour!
“Damn it!” He muttered as he grabbed his pounding head that felt ready to explode.