More unfamiliar dwarves?
Sakzul hadn't been with him this time, and Fikod had spotted them from his
vantage point atop a willow tree. He had spent the morning searching for anything
worth hunting, but there seemed to be nothing in the immediate area.
And just when I thought I had some time to myself...
Fikod watched the dwarves intently. The leader, or at least the dwarf who
seemed to know where she was going, was considerably older than the others. She had
a limp, and a carving knife hung from her belt, which glinted in the midday sun.
She was headed this way.
Fikod dropped his position slightly, hanging from the edge of the sturdy
branch. None of the approcahing dwarves took notice. Queitly, he waited in ambush
for the dwarves to come closer...
Dropping from the branch, Fikod made his entrance by slamming through the
hanging leaves of the elderly willow, landing gracefully in front of the migrant
group. 'Halt!' He cried. 'Who goes there?'
The lead migrant, stared at Fikod, open mouthed. She was unmoved by his
entrance, but instead something else flashed in the elderly dwarf's eye.
'Fikod?' She croaked. Fikod suddenly recognised the dwarf who was leading
the others.
'Nil?' He greeted her. 'I'm guessing Zon Gerig wasn't right for you either,
hmm?'
Nil laughed. 'Apparently, they have no use for a bowyer like myself who's
too old to walk properly. I don't care to be honest - I can still craft crossbows.
Who cares if I can't walk properly?'
Fikod smiled at her. Obviously, the old coot hadn't lost her fiery sense of
duty. 'I take it you're here looking for Atridthortith?'
Nil nodded.
'Well, sorry. She's out right now,' Fikod joked. There were a couple of
groans from the assorted crowd.
'When you're quite finished, Fikod,' Nil said, unaffected by his futile
attempt at a joke. 'Are you going to take us there or not.
Fikod scanned the assorted crowd. About three times Atridthortith's current
population stood before him, two of whom were children, clinging to thier parents
hands. All of the travellers looked tired and worn out.
'How long have you been travelling?' Fikod asked. He had forgotten Nil's
demand from a few moments before.
'About a month. We set off after Rimtar returned with the news. Damned fool
wouldn't let us use the wagon, either.' Nil replied. Her arms were folded, and she
looked at Fikod with a look that read how much longer are you going to stall
for?
Fikod glanced back at the crowd. The eyes of twenty two dwarves were fixed
on him, silently pleading him to take them to the end of thier long journey.
With a sigh, Fikod turned around, and strode back across the fresh spring
grasses. He gestured Nil to follow, and there was an assorted commotion as twenty
tired dwarves picked up their belongings and headed towards their new home.
* * *
'Domas?'
'Yes, Fikod?'
'...Do we have room for so many migrants?'
'We have plenty. Why are you so worried?'
'I... I guess I've never liked crowds much, that's all.'
'Come on, Fikod. You're with us now, you have a part to play in this
society. You've as much a responsibility as any of the rest of us, and the same
responsibilities as are about to fall upon the newcomers.'
'Yeah, but-'
'But nothing. Are you telling me you can't provide for all 29 citizens
here?'
'Not by myself, no...'
Domas sighed. 'Least you can do is try, Fikod. Believe me, I've never seen
such a skilled hunter in my life. Most hunters don't live past thirty - you're now
how old?'
'Thirty.'
'There you go. Older than most hunters.'
Fikod sighed, and turned to enter the mouth of the fortress once again.
'Fikod...' Domas muttered, stopping him. 'Don't lose heart. We've all had
to suffer a lot, and although none of us have been through the same things as you,
we all need to lean on each other for this to work.'
Fikod nodded, and ambled back into the mouth of the hillside.
* * *
Fikod lay motionless, crouched before his prey. A lone mountain goat had
wandered down before the entry to the fort, and had concealed itself behind a bush
- it was now happily munching away on a bush beside the refuse pile, undeterred by
the skeletal corpse of it's kin that lay next to it.
Sakzul was poised beside him, shoulders low and chest touching to the
ground. Her tail stood erect and motionless, and her body radiated concentration
like a fire radiates heat.
There was a faint twang, a signal, as the empty crossbow's cord snapped
forward. As she was trained, Sakzul pounced, paws outstreched, ready to pin the
hapless creature and kill it with a bite to the throat.
Something was wrong.
Fikod saw it all, almost as if it had been in slow motion.
Sakzul sailed through the air, towards the shocked goat.
A second twang rang out.
Something whizzed through the air, missing Fikod's ear by mere inches.
A bolt, as if from nowhere, slammed into the ground beside the goat.
Surprised by the sudden interruption, Sakzul lost concentration, instead
slamming full-body into the stunned goat.
The two animals tumbled into the refuse pile, scattering bones and half
rotted remains.
Fikod stood up from his hiding place, and turned to where he thought he had
seen the bolt fly from. Another dwarf, a female, clad in leather armor like
himself, emerged from behind a tree, and thier eyes locked.
There was a moment of silence.
'What did you do that for, you idiot!?' She screamed at him.
Fikod's face twisted into a look of grim realisation.
Competition.
Author
Topic: Atridthortith - 'Blossomspell' (Read 3079 times)