abstract
| - Therdon wiped the blood from his eye, keeping his gaze locked on his opponent. The dwarf's lungs pumped to feed his aching muscles; he no longer felt the axe gripped in his rough, scarred hands. Only the weight of it pulling on his exhausted arms assured him it had not fallen to the ground. A knot was forming in his right thigh from a blow that had nearly cost him his life. Therdon was in trouble. The two dwarves circled each other, their boots kicking up dust on the banks of the Malvinar River, nothing more than a creek this close to the mountains during the late summer days. The air was dry and the heat from the mid-day sun sucked at what strength remained in their battered bodies. This was not the first time Therdon and Colthrun had met in battle. The two wore the scars of their previous encounters as badges of honor. Mercy and luck had allowed this personal war to continue after many such battles, yet this time both dwarves knew it would end today. For Therdon, the path to honor lay only through victory. He had never lost and did not know the feeling of defeat. For that very reason, as his leg began to stiffen and blood continued to flow into his eye, he knew he would be the victor. Therdon watched the look of confidence grow in Colthrun's face as his limp grew more pronounced. Let Colthrun enjoy his confidence, he thought, let him smell victory. Therdon faked a small stumble to his right. Immediately, Colthrun's mighty hammer came swinging up to catch him under the chin. Using the motion of his stumble, Therdon dipped his shoulder and pushed off his right foot. The hammer rushed past his face, missing its mark, sending it high into the air. Therdon released his axe, letting it fall. It was no longer needed. The momentum of the failed attack left Colthrun's arms high above his head, his midsection exposed. Therdon's left shoulder slammed into the dwarf's abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs. Therdon wrapped his arms around his opponent, locking his hands together in a death grip as the dwarves crashed to the ground. His arms, hardened by years spent in the forges of Bordinar's Cleft began to crush the life out of the other dwarf. "I give! I give!" gasped Colthrun, with what little air remained in his lungs. "Bah! I win again!" Therdon shouted as he released his grip and pushed himself off his battered friend, "You really thought you had me that time!" Colthrun looked up at his grinning friend and spat a curse under his breath. The two young dwarves had been friends for as long as either of them could remember. Neither had seen actual battle, but blood and bruises from such mock duels were very real. One such encounter had cost Therdon his left eye. Such was the way with the mountain dwarves of Thestra. They had to be strong. There was no tolerance for weakness. The loss of his eye had only made Therdon a more viscous and clever young warrior. Therdon was collecting their strewn weapons when Colthrun noticed a glint of light in the dirt at his feet. "Hey Ther, what's this?" Colthrun pulled out his dagger and began poking at the object buried in the ground. Therdon walked over and watched as his friend began to carefully excavate the dirt at his feet. Prying carefully with his dagger, the object suddenly popped loose and flew into the air. Therdon picked up their find and gazed at it as it lay in his hand. The other dwarf scrambled to his feet to look at the new treasure. "It's cold," muttered Therdon distantly. The object looked like a coin. It was gold in color and had odd markings engraved into its surface. Even though they were young, they were still dwarves and had an eye for works of metal and stone--this was no ordinary coin. Coins were usually stamped out and were often irregular in shape and size, but this was perfectly round, each engraving was precise and flawless. The markings appeared to be letters or numbers of some type, but neither dwarf had seen anything remotely resembling the engravings before. The markings worked their way around the coin, but only completed a little over half the circumference. The remaining portion was smooth, as if the engraver did not have time to finish his work. Colthrun reached out and picked up the coin, turning it over. He let out a gasp when he saw the engraving on the opposite side. Staring up at them was the face of a creature they had never seen before. The detail was intense and lifelike. The eyes were sunk deep into the face and the nose was flat, almost snout-like. Its teeth were sharp and elongated. This was the face of a creature neither of the young dwarves would ever care to meet. "Therdon! Git over here before I have to come down there and drag ye back by yer beard!" came a shout. The two dwarves snapped back into focus. "Here, take yer coin" said Therdon as he handed it back to Colthrun. "Keep it." Colthrun quickly replied, "Consider it a 'Going Away' present." "Move it, lad!" came another shout. Therdon pocketed the coin and slapped his friend one last time on the shoulder. Grinning, he picked up his axe and ran up the slope to where the caravan had staged. The lead carts had already started down the road and the dwarves began their march south in search of ore. Looking back, Therdon watched as Colthrun shouldered his hammer and began the trek back to Bordinar's Cleft.
*
*
* Sitting in his small, empty room within the walls of New Targonor, Therdon looked down at the coin in his hand. It had been many years since Colthrun had found it buried in the ground. That was the last time he had seen his childhood friend. Much had changed in the years since their last encounter. Therdon had received word today that Colthrun had died in battle. He cursed himself for not being at the side of his friend, but such was not possible. Therdon was an outcast of his own people. Much had changed. He ran a hand over his smooth chin where his beard had once grown. Outcast. He continued to look at the coin. He knew much more about the trinket now. It was not really a coin and the face that he rarely cared to look at was that of an orc. It had also changed over the years. Now there were only enough markings to cover a quarter of the circumference. The remainder was smooth. Therdon could vividly recall each time one of the markings had vanished. "If only Colthrun had kept the coin, maybe he would be alive today" muttered the dwarf.
|