Unnamed
He had become accustomed to the sound of foreign tongues, and while his High Kianmar was accented he managed. He hadn't learned the local tongue but the Trade tongue worked well enough. He had shied away from the two inns where he had heard Dankar being spoken, though he'd heard Khidrin aplenty, many a non-dwarf knew that tongue. He wasn't yet ready to fall back into discourse with his own kind. Not yet. Not until he could hear his new name without looking around for his sister, who had been the only one who had ever called him Vitr. Not until he thought of himself as Vitr and only as Vitr.
His senses were extended as far as his magic would permit as he traversed the dusty side streets of the cross road town. Dusk had fallen, though the darkness was little difficulty to eyes used to the pitch black of the mines. The Mines. Whatever powers that be in the world could have those mines. All Father be damned. He glanced over his shoulder at the impiety of that thought. Never mind that he'd abandoned his faith as much as his people upon his exile... by being audacious enough to survive it. He paused in his course and stepped closer to the light of an inn, from the alley a form slipped out, just enough that Vitr could see it. He swore, the only Dankar he permitted himself any more. The shrouded figure nodded once then vanished once more into the shadows with a glint of silver and gold. Silver and Gold that Vitr knew only too well. There was only one reason a Kharvodrin would be here. Him. Unless he was insanely lucky and there was another...
"Kharvorth, that's the term..." A voice from inside the Inn drifted out. It couldn't be a dwarf, or even a half-breed. They'd never let those terms out... Vitr ducked into the inn, pulling his hood closer around his now beardless face. If he was lucky no one would comment, it would take more luck than that to shake the shadow. But his luck wasn't running that way tonight.
Golden eyes scanned the dim room. The people here were darker than the humans from the mountains. Black of hair and brown as fine amber, though they had the usual range of eye-colors humans typically seemed to sport. Though it wasn't just humans here, for all this town was dominantly a human town. There was at least one half breed elf, and one who looked like he had orc blood in him, well Vitr wouldn't hold that against him. He shifted the bow on his back and tapped the shortsword on his side, mostly to reassure himself. He'd bought guild membership with the Mercinaries, and no one traveled unarmed these days so the locals shouldn't give him trouble. Which left one more precaution as he worked his way through the crowded room.
He shifted his magic within him. Senses of the ordinary sort weren't likely to be helpful, but if he needed to respond to anything physically, it would likely be before his conscious mind could register it. So he set a portion of his magic to sharpening his reflexes and instincts. The rest he left in a solid shell around the core of himself. Unless there were active mages present it should be unnoticed. And even they should have trouble determining what he did. His powers were uncommon even in Over-Mountain.
"What say you?" The same voice that used the word now turned to a table that housed three young dwarves. The speaker was tall for the people of this land, and thin, but they were all thin by dwarf standards. He had a stringed instrument on his back. Rounder than the balalaika his people used, but seemingly of the same family.
"Human, You'd do better to leave the matter lie. You're treading in things you don't understand," A flame haired dwarf, who couldn't be more than about fifty, cautioned. On their Naming trials then. Just wonderful.
Vitr took a seat near the fire and ordered a drink from the barmaid. The last job he'd had paid well enough. He could afford a little in the way of comfort. Besides. He had to eat and sleep somewhere and he had had his fill of the branches of trees even if his magic would keep him from falling out. Presuming the Kharvodrin didn't get him. But that one would find him in a tree or an inn with equal ease. He doubted the man would want it known what he did so for now he was safe enough.
"Come now, don't play coy..." The man was speaking High Kianmar and switched to heavily accented Khidrin. How had he learned that word if he couldn't even speak what amounted to the dwarvish trade tongue well?
"Boy, it's not coy. You don't have time for the hours it would take you to understand that word. Don't use what you don't understand," The fire haired dwarf cautioned.
The door opened, and another cloaked figure walked in. Vitr caught himself before he stroked a beard that was no longer there, and never would be again if he had any say in the matter. He could see the Kharvodrin now. He was slender, for a dwarf even as Vitr was, with marxite eyes- black but glinting silver, his beard had been trimmed shorter even than many humans kept theirs and it was a pale shade of brown, not quite blond. Beyond that he was ordinary. Features unmemorable... no... they actually were shifting ever so slightly as Vitr watched. He could not quite suppress a shudder, especially not when that face and those eyes turned on him as if they had been looking for him. Well, they probably had been.
Vitr turned away loosing himself in his drink and the porridge the waitress brought shortly there after. He paid immediately. He was Kharvorth. There was no guarantee he would be able to pay later and the Kharvodrin cared little for what people thought of them or their targets. After all, why should they care for the unnamed? They were no longer people. Vitr ground his teeth to keep his tongue still as the minstrel continued to pester the three seated dwarves and the Kharvodrin made his way across the room.
The minstrel stepped back from the debate scowling and lifted his head to look around. He took the difference between the new arrival and his earlier targets and seemed to zero in on the man.
"Rhymster... I would recommend you leave well enough alone." Vitr spoke up as the minstrel physically turned towards the new arrival.
The Minstrel looked at Vitr then back at the new arrival. "Friend, I'd say you should mind your own bussiness in this, I'll likely have time to ask you my questions as well."
He rounded back on the Kharvodrin, and the bouncer moved a step forward, but words move faster than men. "You're unlike them, would that make you Kharvorth? And if so would you kindly explain the term without the riddles your fellows keep using."
Vitr moved before he saw the knife. The Minstrel slid on his back into one of the dicing tables as Vitr knocked him from his feet and deflected the blade hand upwards. "Stay out of it." He snapped at the bouncer in one of the Barbarian trade tongues. Hoping he'd read the tribe signs on the man correctly.
"You, of all people, are a fool to intervene," The Kharvodrin smiled retreating half a step, and Vitr felt power build.
"Do you want to do this in front of them?" Vitr nodded to the young dwarves. He was speaking Kharalesvath, the high language of the dwarves... binding in all its forms even when it was not being used for an oath.
"How dare you sully this tongue with your mouth, traitor!" The Kharvodrin snapped back and Vitr set his magic against the other man's as he felt the first pull on his spirit.
The redheaded dwarf stood and Vitr held up a hand. "Do not endanger your souls by interfering. This coward will not risk you discovering these secrets on your Naming trials. He'll wait until there are no eyes upon him to judge his actions and our people."
"You have no people," The Kharvodrin sneered and lunged forward, runes flaring on the blade. Vitr was suddenly behind him and smiled.
"Nor have you, Nameless. Only your mission of destruction hoping they will grant you the same favor," Vitr once more side stepped the knife and the Barbarian and, of all people, the orc blooded in the room were keeping all comers back. The other dwarves in the room were simply staring, stunned. The minstrel was muttering something in the corner and the flow of power told Vitr it was a spell... a spell of understanding. Well that could get complicated.
"You hide behind forbidden power." Once more power built around the Kharvodrin. This time Vitr was paying enough attention to catch the familiarity of it. He'd felt that before... the hellspawn at the Dragon's Forge had lashed them all with it even as the Archangels had sealed them away.
"You're a fine one to speak of forbidden power," Vitr grinned and eyed the knife. He shifted the magic from his reflexes to his skin, making it as hard as black steel. "You'll use it through that toy to shatter my soul. The All Father doesn't like apostates."
"I am no apostate, my magic comes from the All Father, and it would be well for these to know how we deal with our traitors," The Kharvodrin feinted with the corner of his cloak and Vitr shifted towards that hand. The dagger swung around to his 'unprotected' side. Magic flared as Vitr drew on all his reserves, focusing them on the strike point and the blade shattered against his skin. He staggered back, momentarily drained soul bare, but the Kharvodrin fell back himself and collapsed to the floor as if his own life had shattered with the blade he bore.
The Barbarian and the Orc-blooded both checked on the fallen, but it was the Barbarian who spoke. "Did you know this would happen?"
"No, I thought only to end the fight by breaking the knife," Vitr left the matter there. In spite of what the Kharvodrin had said, he was no traitor and there was no need to explain dwarven secrets here.
"You'll need to stay until the watch gets here, but we'll testify you did not start the fight and what you did shouldn't have killed him," the Barbarian shrugged and pulled the cloak more tightly around the body and one of the serving girls slipped out to alert the watch to the trouble. "It's not often you see a dwarf with magic in these parts..."
"Because they're normally in the priesthood," Vitr said with a shrug. "It was a life I couldn't submit to."
"Why couldn't you go into the priesthood?" One of the young dwarves pipped in. Not the red head this time, but shorter and broader. "Where would the dishonor have been in that?"
"Because it would have been a lie, kid. It would have been a lie." Vitr looked away, walking back to his table and sliding into his chair, picking up the mug he had abandoned. "You see I was at the Dragon's Forge."
The Minstrel nodded and opened his mouth but Vitr shook his head. "The term you're looking for is Voreth. It means Exile."
His senses were extended as far as his magic would permit as he traversed the dusty side streets of the cross road town. Dusk had fallen, though the darkness was little difficulty to eyes used to the pitch black of the mines. The Mines. Whatever powers that be in the world could have those mines. All Father be damned. He glanced over his shoulder at the impiety of that thought. Never mind that he'd abandoned his faith as much as his people upon his exile... by being audacious enough to survive it. He paused in his course and stepped closer to the light of an inn, from the alley a form slipped out, just enough that Vitr could see it. He swore, the only Dankar he permitted himself any more. The shrouded figure nodded once then vanished once more into the shadows with a glint of silver and gold. Silver and Gold that Vitr knew only too well. There was only one reason a Kharvodrin would be here. Him. Unless he was insanely lucky and there was another...
"Kharvorth, that's the term..." A voice from inside the Inn drifted out. It couldn't be a dwarf, or even a half-breed. They'd never let those terms out... Vitr ducked into the inn, pulling his hood closer around his now beardless face. If he was lucky no one would comment, it would take more luck than that to shake the shadow. But his luck wasn't running that way tonight.
Golden eyes scanned the dim room. The people here were darker than the humans from the mountains. Black of hair and brown as fine amber, though they had the usual range of eye-colors humans typically seemed to sport. Though it wasn't just humans here, for all this town was dominantly a human town. There was at least one half breed elf, and one who looked like he had orc blood in him, well Vitr wouldn't hold that against him. He shifted the bow on his back and tapped the shortsword on his side, mostly to reassure himself. He'd bought guild membership with the Mercinaries, and no one traveled unarmed these days so the locals shouldn't give him trouble. Which left one more precaution as he worked his way through the crowded room.
He shifted his magic within him. Senses of the ordinary sort weren't likely to be helpful, but if he needed to respond to anything physically, it would likely be before his conscious mind could register it. So he set a portion of his magic to sharpening his reflexes and instincts. The rest he left in a solid shell around the core of himself. Unless there were active mages present it should be unnoticed. And even they should have trouble determining what he did. His powers were uncommon even in Over-Mountain.
"What say you?" The same voice that used the word now turned to a table that housed three young dwarves. The speaker was tall for the people of this land, and thin, but they were all thin by dwarf standards. He had a stringed instrument on his back. Rounder than the balalaika his people used, but seemingly of the same family.
"Human, You'd do better to leave the matter lie. You're treading in things you don't understand," A flame haired dwarf, who couldn't be more than about fifty, cautioned. On their Naming trials then. Just wonderful.
Vitr took a seat near the fire and ordered a drink from the barmaid. The last job he'd had paid well enough. He could afford a little in the way of comfort. Besides. He had to eat and sleep somewhere and he had had his fill of the branches of trees even if his magic would keep him from falling out. Presuming the Kharvodrin didn't get him. But that one would find him in a tree or an inn with equal ease. He doubted the man would want it known what he did so for now he was safe enough.
"Come now, don't play coy..." The man was speaking High Kianmar and switched to heavily accented Khidrin. How had he learned that word if he couldn't even speak what amounted to the dwarvish trade tongue well?
"Boy, it's not coy. You don't have time for the hours it would take you to understand that word. Don't use what you don't understand," The fire haired dwarf cautioned.
The door opened, and another cloaked figure walked in. Vitr caught himself before he stroked a beard that was no longer there, and never would be again if he had any say in the matter. He could see the Kharvodrin now. He was slender, for a dwarf even as Vitr was, with marxite eyes- black but glinting silver, his beard had been trimmed shorter even than many humans kept theirs and it was a pale shade of brown, not quite blond. Beyond that he was ordinary. Features unmemorable... no... they actually were shifting ever so slightly as Vitr watched. He could not quite suppress a shudder, especially not when that face and those eyes turned on him as if they had been looking for him. Well, they probably had been.
Vitr turned away loosing himself in his drink and the porridge the waitress brought shortly there after. He paid immediately. He was Kharvorth. There was no guarantee he would be able to pay later and the Kharvodrin cared little for what people thought of them or their targets. After all, why should they care for the unnamed? They were no longer people. Vitr ground his teeth to keep his tongue still as the minstrel continued to pester the three seated dwarves and the Kharvodrin made his way across the room.
The minstrel stepped back from the debate scowling and lifted his head to look around. He took the difference between the new arrival and his earlier targets and seemed to zero in on the man.
"Rhymster... I would recommend you leave well enough alone." Vitr spoke up as the minstrel physically turned towards the new arrival.
The Minstrel looked at Vitr then back at the new arrival. "Friend, I'd say you should mind your own bussiness in this, I'll likely have time to ask you my questions as well."
He rounded back on the Kharvodrin, and the bouncer moved a step forward, but words move faster than men. "You're unlike them, would that make you Kharvorth? And if so would you kindly explain the term without the riddles your fellows keep using."
Vitr moved before he saw the knife. The Minstrel slid on his back into one of the dicing tables as Vitr knocked him from his feet and deflected the blade hand upwards. "Stay out of it." He snapped at the bouncer in one of the Barbarian trade tongues. Hoping he'd read the tribe signs on the man correctly.
"You, of all people, are a fool to intervene," The Kharvodrin smiled retreating half a step, and Vitr felt power build.
"Do you want to do this in front of them?" Vitr nodded to the young dwarves. He was speaking Kharalesvath, the high language of the dwarves... binding in all its forms even when it was not being used for an oath.
"How dare you sully this tongue with your mouth, traitor!" The Kharvodrin snapped back and Vitr set his magic against the other man's as he felt the first pull on his spirit.
The redheaded dwarf stood and Vitr held up a hand. "Do not endanger your souls by interfering. This coward will not risk you discovering these secrets on your Naming trials. He'll wait until there are no eyes upon him to judge his actions and our people."
"You have no people," The Kharvodrin sneered and lunged forward, runes flaring on the blade. Vitr was suddenly behind him and smiled.
"Nor have you, Nameless. Only your mission of destruction hoping they will grant you the same favor," Vitr once more side stepped the knife and the Barbarian and, of all people, the orc blooded in the room were keeping all comers back. The other dwarves in the room were simply staring, stunned. The minstrel was muttering something in the corner and the flow of power told Vitr it was a spell... a spell of understanding. Well that could get complicated.
"You hide behind forbidden power." Once more power built around the Kharvodrin. This time Vitr was paying enough attention to catch the familiarity of it. He'd felt that before... the hellspawn at the Dragon's Forge had lashed them all with it even as the Archangels had sealed them away.
"You're a fine one to speak of forbidden power," Vitr grinned and eyed the knife. He shifted the magic from his reflexes to his skin, making it as hard as black steel. "You'll use it through that toy to shatter my soul. The All Father doesn't like apostates."
"I am no apostate, my magic comes from the All Father, and it would be well for these to know how we deal with our traitors," The Kharvodrin feinted with the corner of his cloak and Vitr shifted towards that hand. The dagger swung around to his 'unprotected' side. Magic flared as Vitr drew on all his reserves, focusing them on the strike point and the blade shattered against his skin. He staggered back, momentarily drained soul bare, but the Kharvodrin fell back himself and collapsed to the floor as if his own life had shattered with the blade he bore.
The Barbarian and the Orc-blooded both checked on the fallen, but it was the Barbarian who spoke. "Did you know this would happen?"
"No, I thought only to end the fight by breaking the knife," Vitr left the matter there. In spite of what the Kharvodrin had said, he was no traitor and there was no need to explain dwarven secrets here.
"You'll need to stay until the watch gets here, but we'll testify you did not start the fight and what you did shouldn't have killed him," the Barbarian shrugged and pulled the cloak more tightly around the body and one of the serving girls slipped out to alert the watch to the trouble. "It's not often you see a dwarf with magic in these parts..."
"Because they're normally in the priesthood," Vitr said with a shrug. "It was a life I couldn't submit to."
"Why couldn't you go into the priesthood?" One of the young dwarves pipped in. Not the red head this time, but shorter and broader. "Where would the dishonor have been in that?"
"Because it would have been a lie, kid. It would have been a lie." Vitr looked away, walking back to his table and sliding into his chair, picking up the mug he had abandoned. "You see I was at the Dragon's Forge."
The Minstrel nodded and opened his mouth but Vitr shook his head. "The term you're looking for is Voreth. It means Exile."
I liked the story, but I found it a bit hard to follow who was speaking and what was happening in the first half. I guess it's a mix of new terminology, Vitr hearing the people speaking before seeing them, and magic being used.
I'll look at clarifying the first half once the challenge is judged. Thank you. :)
I found the same, but the story was excellent. Once I had parsed it out, I was intrigued by the character and the plot. I want to know what happens to your dwarven exile. And you met the terms of the challenge perfectly. Good work!