Kings that ruled under the dwarven Patriarch.
“How many cities are cut off by the orcs?” Cormac asked as they entered the stronghold.
“Deep Halls, Stone Halls, and the Under Deep.” Borfin replied.
The dwarven mage stopped when he heard that his hometown was one of the cutoff cities. It was worse than he had imagined. Of the five dwarven towns, three were cut off from the surface. Cormac regained his composure and joined his companion in the keep. It was vastly different from the last time he had seen it. The great hall had been replaced by a large training area, and the planning area was twice the size that it had been. One can never fault the dwarves for being unprepared for war , Cormac thought as he examined the soldiers who were training in the great hall. The King was on the other side of the hall. He was meeting with his advisors. They were all gathered around the largest of the tables and seemed to be arguing about something.
“Your highness, Cormac has arrived from the surface.” Borfin bowed be fore the King.
“This is the best news we have heard all day. Cormac, we don’t have much time. I need you and Borfin to take a small force and push back the goblins. They’ve been harassing our patrols for a week now, and we need to be rid of them so we can focus on the orcs.” The King was much older than Cormac remembered. His beard was showing signs of graying, and his hands were weaker than they once had been.
“You can count on us, cousin Thr alin. We won’t let you down.” Cormac shook his cousin’s hand vigorously.
“Before you go, I need to tell you that the Patriarch is refusing to ask for assistance from any of our neighbors. He believes we can handle this enemy on our own. I know you have allies all across the world, but the Patriarch is unwilling to get other races involved.”
“I will cross that path when it comes, cousin. As a member of the Wizard’s Council, I have other allegiances that guide my path. The dwarves are always my people, but I must do what I will to see to it that they survive. If my choice of friends upsets the Patriarch, then on my shoulders it shall be.”
Borfin shook his head before following Cormac back through the stronghold. A small group of dwarves was waiting for them just outside the gates. Most of them were far younger than the enlistment age for the military, but the long-lived dwarves were not ones to shy away from war. In such times of war, their youth were considered a viable replacement for the veterans they usually conscripted. Cormac took a moment to make sure that none of them was younger than twenty years before taking on the role of their leader. He explained their mission as they made their way toward the infested tunnels. It had been several years since Cormac had gone to war, but the memories stuck with him.
“The first one to spot a goblin gets a pint of ale on me!” Borfin yelled.
“The first one to kill a goblin gets a barrel of ale on me!” Cormac yelled, poking Borfin in the ribs.
Cormac had never liked traveling the infested tunnels. Goblins were significantly smaller in stature to dwarves, allowing them to move in places where the dwarves could never hope to fit. This is why they sent me , Cormac thought as he examined the walls. There were several pathways that were not marked on the dwarven maps. He immediately knew these to be the goblin roads. Using their size to their advantage, the goblins had created several paths that allowed for easier raids on the dwarven territories. Cormac’s earth magic expertise would allow him to do in moments what would normally take over one hundred dwarves the better part of a week to accomplish.
“Fall in behind me,” Cormac said as he raised his staff and knocked it against the wall of one of the smaller tunnels.
The tunnel grew so that it would fit at least three dwarves side by side. Whatever advantage the goblins had over the dwarves was counteracted by Cormac’s magic. He knew they
“How many cities are cut off by the orcs?” Cormac asked as they entered the stronghold.
“Deep Halls, Stone Halls, and the Under Deep.” Borfin replied.
The dwarven mage stopped when he heard that his hometown was one of the cutoff cities. It was worse than he had imagined. Of the five dwarven towns, three were cut off from the surface. Cormac regained his composure and joined his companion in the keep. It was vastly different from the last time he had seen it. The great hall had been replaced by a large training area, and the planning area was twice the size that it had been. One can never fault the dwarves for being unprepared for war , Cormac thought as he examined the soldiers who were training in the great hall. The King was on the other side of the hall. He was meeting with his advisors. They were all gathered around the largest of the tables and seemed to be arguing about something.
“Your highness, Cormac has arrived from the surface.” Borfin bowed be fore the King.
“This is the best news we have heard all day. Cormac, we don’t have much time. I need you and Borfin to take a small force and push back the goblins. They’ve been harassing our patrols for a week now, and we need to be rid of them so we can focus on the orcs.” The King was much older than Cormac remembered. His beard was showing signs of graying, and his hands were weaker than they once had been.
“You can count on us, cousin Thr alin. We won’t let you down.” Cormac shook his cousin’s hand vigorously.
“Before you go, I need to tell you that the Patriarch is refusing to ask for assistance from any of our neighbors. He believes we can handle this enemy on our own. I know you have allies all across the world, but the Patriarch is unwilling to get other races involved.”
“I will cross that path when it comes, cousin. As a member of the Wizard’s Council, I have other allegiances that guide my path. The dwarves are always my people, but I must do what I will to see to it that they survive. If my choice of friends upsets the Patriarch, then on my shoulders it shall be.”
Borfin shook his head before following Cormac back through the stronghold. A small group of dwarves was waiting for them just outside the gates. Most of them were far younger than the enlistment age for the military, but the long-lived dwarves were not ones to shy away from war. In such times of war, their youth were considered a viable replacement for the veterans they usually conscripted. Cormac took a moment to make sure that none of them was younger than twenty years before taking on the role of their leader. He explained their mission as they made their way toward the infested tunnels. It had been several years since Cormac had gone to war, but the memories stuck with him.
“The first one to spot a goblin gets a pint of ale on me!” Borfin yelled.
“The first one to kill a goblin gets a barrel of ale on me!” Cormac yelled, poking Borfin in the ribs.
Cormac had never liked traveling the infested tunnels. Goblins were significantly smaller in stature to dwarves, allowing them to move in places where the dwarves could never hope to fit. This is why they sent me , Cormac thought as he examined the walls. There were several pathways that were not marked on the dwarven maps. He immediately knew these to be the goblin roads. Using their size to their advantage, the goblins had created several paths that allowed for easier raids on the dwarven territories. Cormac’s earth magic expertise would allow him to do in moments what would normally take over one hundred dwarves the better part of a week to accomplish.
“Fall in behind me,” Cormac said as he raised his staff and knocked it against the wall of one of the smaller tunnels.
The tunnel grew so that it would fit at least three dwarves side by side. Whatever advantage the goblins had over the dwarves was counteracted by Cormac’s magic. He knew they
Similar Books
