The Dhakaani Bride

Written by Belaluur's player

The Dhakaani Bride

From early childhood, Belaluur knew that she was to be one of the wives of Gudruun of Kech Shaarat. She knew it was her muut¹ to her family, and to the Empire. It was something she had prepared for every day growing up. Her mother taught her how to be a good wife, how to be a good mother. Most of the lessons were simple tasks such as cooking and cleaning, but she also taught her nuanced skills like dealing with a cranky goblin male or figuring out if a crying baby needed feeding or sleep.
All of these lessons felt important to Belaluur. You see, Belaluur was a Dhakaani hobgoblin and all Dhakaani felt a unifying force that guided the lives of all of its people, or dar². That force was the Uul Dhakaan--Dream of Dhakaan--that gave the dar oneness of culture and purpose. All Dhakaani knew of the Dream, but most awoke with little memory of it. Not her. Belaluur had the most vivid dreams of anyone in her family. When she fell asleep, she lived in a whole other world.
In that other world she could forget about her eberronly duties. In that world she learned the ancient ways of combat. It wasn’t her mother who taught her these things there. Nor was it her father. In fact, she didn’t know who her teacher was until she was almost full grown. It never felt important. To her, the Dream was an escape. Whenever she awoke, it was a mere pleasing memory.
Then one night everything changed.
“My name is Krootad and I am your great, great grandfather.”
At the word ‘grandfather’, Belaluur turned from her sparring partner, a wooden figure with posts for arms, a look of surprise on her face. “I’m--”
“Belaluur, yes, I know, child. I’ve always known. We’ve had this conversation many times over the years, but this time I’m hoping you’ll remember. It’s important, child.”
She looked up at him confused, “Isn’t this just a dream? I didn’t think you were real. I thought I made you up.”
“This is a dream, in a manner of speaking, but I’m still real. Parts of me, at least. It’s...it’s complicated.”
Her eyes squinted tightly and her jaw slacked, speechless.
“You’ve heard of the Uul Dhakaan, at least in part. Most dar don’t remember it when they wake up, not fully, but you do. You remember this place. Don’t you, child?”
Belaluur nodded, slowly. Her parents didn’t speak much of it, but around the village she heard stories.
“Tomorrow you are to marry, but I believe you are not destined for that life. You are destined for much greater, child. Marriage and family will not be your muut. You’re a fighter, and one day you’ll be a great warrior. They don’t see it, but I do.
“When you awaken, you’ll have a choice to make. It’s important you remember my words.”
…
She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up in bed. It was almost dawn. She could hear her mother making breakfast. Clinging the blanket around her shoulders, she crawled out of bed and crept into the kitchen.
“Why aren’t you getting ready, child? Today’s the big day! Fetch the basin from my chambers and I’ll clean you up.”
“Nunu³, who’s Krootad?”
Her mother, ordinarily a composed woman, dropped the kitchen knife onto the floor. “How do you know that name?”
Belaluur could see it now. Her mother had the same eyes, the same smile lines on her face. Krootad was her mother’s great grandfather. It wasn’t just a dream.
“Niaanu, I love you. I hope you know that. But I cannot marry Gudruun. It isn’t my destiny.”
Her mother rushed over to her, and placed a kiss atop her daughter’s head. “I love you, too, Bela.” She turned and hastily gathered into a bag some food, a change of clothes, a few coins into a smaller pouch, and something Belaluur had never seen before, a blade.
“This blade was passed down to me from my mother. And now I’m giving it to you. Take this, and go to the road that leads south out of the village. After two days' travel, you’ll be in the city of Khogshrek. Find Master Kallaad, and tell him you want to learn under him. Don’t take no for an answer.”
“Nunu, I--”
“Go, child, before father wakes up.”

The Kech Shaarat

Training under Kallaad of Kech Shaarat wasn’t as easy as Belaluur imagined. She assumed all of the practice in the Dream would have given her an edge, but her muscles didn’t really know what to do with a sword. She did have great instinct and drive, however, and quickly caught up to her peers in technique and style.
Though she was the only female in her class, she was never treated differently because of it. Her mother’s socializing lessons helped with that. They even had a nickname for her, Taarka’nu, because she was fierce like a wolf.
After six months she and her classmates graduated and were sent on numerous missions together. She held her own, and her and her team soon became a bit of celebrities. Belaluur was a natural leader. She finally felt like she was serving muut.
The Empire of Dhakaan was fighting against a particularly deadly foe: the daelkyr. There was an illness--or madness perhaps--called the Kapaa’vola, that was spreading throughout the Empire. Whatever it was, it severed the dars’ connection to the Uul Dhakaan. It was obvious the daelkyr were behind it, but there was no fighting something you couldn’t see or touch.
In one particularly nasty battle, Kallaad led a large contingent of the Kech Shaarat in to retake a massive fortress called Skaitohiish. Despite numerous casualties, the Dhakaani were winning. Kallaad, Belaluur, and her team were pinned down in the caverns below the fort. They’d cleared most of it, but somehow they got trapped in a crypt. They were holding the position, waiting for reinforcements.
After many hours, a small ceasefire was called. As they stopped to eat and drink, Kallaad sent a scout out to the hallway to find any survivors. When the scout came back, his report to Kallaad sent a look of shock over the commander’s face.
Kallaad, grim, turned to his soldiers, “Shava, I have some troubling news. Every dar in this fort has been affected by the Kapaa’vola. We’re the only ones left.”
He went to each of his soldiers and handed them a necklace. “Put this on, now.” He must have been prepared for this possibility, Belaluur later figured.
He came over to Belaluur and placed a necklace in her hands. “I’ll see you again after we’ve won the war. You’re a good soldier, Bela.” He nods and turns down the hallway, sword raised.
…
Thousands of years later.

Footnotes:

¹muut. The Dhakaani concept of duty, something owed to the empire and your comrades.
²dar. “People,” the collective term for the hobgoblin, bugbear, and goblin races of Dhakaan.
³niianu. “Mother,” nunu is a diminutive form.