than anyone else in the village: a tanned hide wrapped around his waist, with a beartock skin that draped over his shoulders descended to the ground and fur boots with the bones of small beasts dangled from the high tops. Each step he took toward the heroes caused the bones to clack like a wind chime.
Other tribesmen funneled out of the tent behind the apparent leader holding spears and axes. A lone woman emerged, and instantly burst into tears at the sight of the child. She tried to run toward Abawken but she was held back by two strong members of the tribe. All she could do was yell, “Ky!” Her arms were stretched out as she cried.
The village leader barked, “You must take the boy back now before it is too late.”
“Why are you sacrificing your children?” Bridazak asked bluntly.
The man turned his head slightly to see the reaction of his people, but quickly countered, “Our ways are not your ways. You don’t belong here and you bring my tribe danger.”
“Danger from what?”
“We must satisfy the Thaloc. It is ordained by our god.”
“You talkin about this, Chiefy?” Dulgin unslung a large blood-soaked sack he had over his shoulder and flared the content before them. The head of the monster rolled out and landed at the chieftain’s feet. Its black lifeless eyes stared at him. Everyone gasped. The mother broke loose and sprinted to wrap her arms around her son.
The chief shouted, “Defilers! You have angered our god!”
His followers brought their weapons up to bear and stood ready to attack. It was apparent that they were uneasy about the confrontation, as the heroes had just destroyed what none of them thought possible.
Bridazak held up his hands to placate the building anger. “We only want information about the ordakians that once lived here. We don’t mean anyone harm.”
“I know nothing of your kind. You must leave and never return.”
The mother whispered to Abawken, “Take my son. His fate here is to die, but you can save him.” He looked at Bridazak who overheard her plea.
Bridazak addressed the leader, “What is your intention with this boy?”
“It is not your concern. Now leave before more blood is shed.”
Dulgin stepped forward, “That sounds like a threat and dwarves don’t take kindly to that.”
The chieftain brought up his arms and then waved them in a circle. His armed followers began to fan out and encircle the heroes.
“Good, I was getting tired of talkin,” Dulgin said.
“What is our play here, Master Bridazak?”
“Our play is to have a lot of widows,” the dwarf scoffed.
“There are answers we still need to find that are here for Spilf,” he whispered back to Dulgin.
Bridazak was at a loss on what to do next. This misguided tribe’s death was not the answer. He silently prayed for help, and a single word came to his mind— challenge .
Just as the custodian of this community was about to order his men to attack, Bridazak stepped forward and shouted, “I challenge your god!”
Everyone froze, eyes widened, and several gasps resounded around the adventurers. The ordakian stunned the overseer and his followers took a step backwards in slight fear of the statement.
“Bridazak, what are you doing?” Spilf whispered.
“What element is your god known for?” he continued without acknowledging his friend.
“Thahaal is a fire god.”
“Then this will be a fire challenge. You will call upon your god and then I will call upon mine.”
“How do you know of our custom?”
Bridazak didn’t respond to his question, “If your god wins, then we will leave and never return, but if my God wins then you will turn from your wicked ways and stop your sacrifices.”
The chieftain squinted his eyes. He walked toward the ordakian and leaned down, face to face. “When my god wins then you will be sacrificed, and your friends will leave never to return again.”
Bridazak looked at his cohorts who were shaking their heads pleading with him to
Other tribesmen funneled out of the tent behind the apparent leader holding spears and axes. A lone woman emerged, and instantly burst into tears at the sight of the child. She tried to run toward Abawken but she was held back by two strong members of the tribe. All she could do was yell, “Ky!” Her arms were stretched out as she cried.
The village leader barked, “You must take the boy back now before it is too late.”
“Why are you sacrificing your children?” Bridazak asked bluntly.
The man turned his head slightly to see the reaction of his people, but quickly countered, “Our ways are not your ways. You don’t belong here and you bring my tribe danger.”
“Danger from what?”
“We must satisfy the Thaloc. It is ordained by our god.”
“You talkin about this, Chiefy?” Dulgin unslung a large blood-soaked sack he had over his shoulder and flared the content before them. The head of the monster rolled out and landed at the chieftain’s feet. Its black lifeless eyes stared at him. Everyone gasped. The mother broke loose and sprinted to wrap her arms around her son.
The chief shouted, “Defilers! You have angered our god!”
His followers brought their weapons up to bear and stood ready to attack. It was apparent that they were uneasy about the confrontation, as the heroes had just destroyed what none of them thought possible.
Bridazak held up his hands to placate the building anger. “We only want information about the ordakians that once lived here. We don’t mean anyone harm.”
“I know nothing of your kind. You must leave and never return.”
The mother whispered to Abawken, “Take my son. His fate here is to die, but you can save him.” He looked at Bridazak who overheard her plea.
Bridazak addressed the leader, “What is your intention with this boy?”
“It is not your concern. Now leave before more blood is shed.”
Dulgin stepped forward, “That sounds like a threat and dwarves don’t take kindly to that.”
The chieftain brought up his arms and then waved them in a circle. His armed followers began to fan out and encircle the heroes.
“Good, I was getting tired of talkin,” Dulgin said.
“What is our play here, Master Bridazak?”
“Our play is to have a lot of widows,” the dwarf scoffed.
“There are answers we still need to find that are here for Spilf,” he whispered back to Dulgin.
Bridazak was at a loss on what to do next. This misguided tribe’s death was not the answer. He silently prayed for help, and a single word came to his mind— challenge .
Just as the custodian of this community was about to order his men to attack, Bridazak stepped forward and shouted, “I challenge your god!”
Everyone froze, eyes widened, and several gasps resounded around the adventurers. The ordakian stunned the overseer and his followers took a step backwards in slight fear of the statement.
“Bridazak, what are you doing?” Spilf whispered.
“What element is your god known for?” he continued without acknowledging his friend.
“Thahaal is a fire god.”
“Then this will be a fire challenge. You will call upon your god and then I will call upon mine.”
“How do you know of our custom?”
Bridazak didn’t respond to his question, “If your god wins, then we will leave and never return, but if my God wins then you will turn from your wicked ways and stop your sacrifices.”
The chieftain squinted his eyes. He walked toward the ordakian and leaned down, face to face. “When my god wins then you will be sacrificed, and your friends will leave never to return again.”
Bridazak looked at his cohorts who were shaking their heads pleading with him to
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