Not Just Yet

[Josh3738 3137]

 

 

 

 

In truth, he hadn’t fought hand to hand in nearly two decades. Where once he had been one of the greatest fighters in the legion, now he had let his skills grow dull and unused. Standing across the sands from the orc, Zahrer simply readied himself. As one of the goblins counted down the beginning of the honor duel, he slowly closed his eyes and the world seemed to slow as he thought over everything that had led up to this point. He mentally readied himself for the journey ahead, preparing to see all his friends again. The faces and words of old, long dead dwarves seemed to swim before him just as the count ended. Opening his eyes, he charged forward... The battle was over quickly, the larger orc easily winning in hand to hand combat against the smaller dwarf, and Zahrer remained nearly motionless on the sands of the arena. Roars and shouts of victory echoed about the arena. The King coughed and wheezed as blood leaked out of his mouth and nose. With shattered ribs and punctured organs, the dwarf could only lay still and watch as the sword rose above his head. In the moment before the blade came down on his neck, he smiled and closed his eyes.

 

 

When he opened them again, a hand clasped about his throat where the sword had come down as he looked about the hall where he stood. Massive stone columns rose so high into the sky that he could not see the roof. Between them, massive braziers filled with roaring fires illuminated the way ahead, and at the end of the hall a massive door was cracked open, allowing a shaft of pure white light to escape from within. Looking down to the hand, he realized it was his own and allowed it to fall to his side as he took a step forwards. As his boot hit the stone floor, the sound of it was loud and reverberated through the hall to such an extent that he jerked his foot back, unsure that it had indeed been his foot that had made such a sound. Stepping forward again, the echo repeated itself and he began to slowly walk forward towards the door. As he got closer he could hear voices from within. The closer he got, the louder and more pronounced the voices were and soon enough he thought he could make out that it was some sort of auction or bidding. Just as the thought crossed his mind, a light breeze passed between the pillars to send the flames of the braziers sputtering. Thinking nothing of it, he carried on walking even as the breeze picked up into a strong wind. Within moments the wind was a hurricane, the harsh torrent of air buffeting him about as it whipped between the columns, sending bits of ash and coals everywhere and forcing him across the hall in the direction of the pillars. With violent force, he slammed into a pillar and remembered no more.

 

The first thing he noticed was the pleasant warmth that blanketed his form followed by the rough feel of a sandstone table beneath him. Opening his eyes, he squinted immediately as the sudden introduction of light blinded him. Inhaling deeply, he filled his lungs with air and groaned as he slowly sat up.

 

“Careful now. Slow and steady, friend.”

 

He turned from where he was, looking about so as to put a face to the voice just as the hem of a monk robe disappeared around the edge of the side door before it closed, leaving him alone in the well lit room. His hands rose from the table, shifting the blanket that had been lain across him aside, and he clutched the sides of his head with his eyes closed. Even as he tried to remember the mighty hall, its picture in his mind seemed to fade until the memory itself was no more and he opened his eyes one more to look about the room, confused now more than anything else. The light of the morning sun crept slowly over the horizon.

 

 

The journey back to the Kingdom was short partially due to the boats and partially due to his pony. As he rode slowly through the gates, the guards gave cheers and shouts of greeting, but he paid them no mind as he continued to the throne room and to the Obsidian Throne itself where a single ring and a runestone sat on the arm of the throne. With confusion and a raised brow, he looked at his hand to see that his ring was gone and returned it to his finger before taking the runestone in hand. At his touch, the rune glowed brightly and his head jerked back as visions and memories filled his head, echoing with his own words. As the stone slowly turned to dust and fell through his fingers he closed his eyes, lowering himself once more onto the throne.

 

 

He remembered.

[devvy 1348]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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