Death Or Fortune (57 page)

 I told
him I would do so as I followed him back outside to help him get back up on the
horse.
'Hey pup, you follow Darmot for a bit, I will be back soon.
' He
then reached down and patted the top of the wolf's head.  I helped him
adjust the saddle so he could ride.
'Don't start the fight without me lad!'
he shouted out as he rode away. That was the last time I saw Ebbit alive.

    
"Wow! Close the gate, see if it goes out!" Pare said as the Flame of
Hope re-ignited.  Michaels had more than enough of the halfling for the
day. His constant prattle was getting on his last nerve.  This is a sign,
he thought to himself.  He was where he belonged after all this time.
 His constant search was over and he knew the moment he set foot inside
the gate. While Michaels was born and raised in Arcadia it never felt like his
true home.  He was about to tell his friends this when the woman's voice
could be heard shouting from inside the temple.
     "That was a woman!" he told his friends as
he started to run up the path.  He could see the grave markers out of the
corner of his eye as he ran.  The closer he got to the temple doors, the
more at home he felt.  When he put his hand on the door itself though,
something strange came over him.  He remembered something from his youth.
 He was running home for dinner, the sun was just about to set.  He remembered
finding his mother sitting on the floor of their modest home.  Dinner was
on the table, she had a pan of sweet bread in her hand but the pan itself was
resting on the floor.  She had a blank look on her face, as Michaels got
close to her, she rolled back.  Her head made a sick thump as it hit the
floor.  Shaking his head of the vision, Michaels pulled open the temple
door.  He could hear the woman shouting in the distance but his eyes were
drawn to the doors to the main temple. Standing there in the vestibule, he
could see a glow coming from the doors.
     "Michaels!" Darmot called out to him.
 For a small moment, the glow started to fade.  Duty called him, yet
there was something more here.  Something else he had to do.  He
waved his hand at his friend, his only good friend and told him to go on.
 Keeping his eyes locked on the door he waited for the sounds of running
feet to fade.  The glow of the door brightened, drawing him forward even
more. Taking a single step, he was once again a child, seeing his mother on the
floor.  Her heart had stopped working that day.  That was all that
the healers could tell him and his father.  The last time he saw his own
father was at the age of ten, telling him that he was a man now.  It was
time for him to take care of himself.  It is time for you to grow up
Andrew he had told him.  Shaking his head again, the vision was gone.
 He could not remember the last time anyone had called him by his first
name.  The door to the main temple was now fully illuminated.  As if
the light was streaming from the wood itself. As he reached out to touch the
doors, he could hear the voices from inside.  Singing the songs of their
god, singing songs of hope and redemption.
     Tears of joy streamed down his face as he opened the
doors and walked into the light. There wasn't a single space to be seen in any
of the pews.  A full house, each man and woman robed in white singing the
praises of their lord.  The very stone of the temple shook with the power
of their voices.  Each step Michaels took was more confident than the one
before.  He strode towards the altar were a man was waiting for him.
 He stood there holding his hands out, leading the faithful in song.
 His robes were white and marked with silver trim.  He was the leader
of this church, he was waiting for Michaels.  Standing at the foot of the
sanctuary, looking up at the man standing before the altar Michaels went to his
knees he was so overwhelmed with joy.  With his chin pressed down to his
chest, he said a silent prayer to his god, thanking him for showing him the way
home.
     "The path is open for you my son.  Go forth
and do my bidding.  We are waiting for you." Michaels looked up to
the man at the altar once again. With a single nod of his head, the old man
pointed to the right, a single door stood open to for him.  Michaels put
his head down one last time before he got to his feet again.  The very
walls and floors of the temple were vibrating in time with the song of the
congregation, almost as if the temple itself was trying to sing along.  As
Michaels entered the open door he saw the stairs going down to the tombs below.
 He was not concerned when the door closed behind him.  Cutting him
off from the light and song from above.  He just kept going down the
stairs, he needed no light.  He knew the way as if he had made this walk a
hundred times before.  When the stairs ended, he could see light at the
end of the hall.  As he walked, he noticed the coffins that lined the
walls.  These were the first of the chosen ones, the protectors of the
temple.  It wasn't until they ran out of room down here did they start to
bury the ones outside.  On one side were the Othos, the Melkor lined the
other.  As Michaels reached the end of the hall, he found himself in a large
room bathed in a strange blue light.
     A single sarcophagus stood in the center of the room.
 Engraved on the side was the name Keltor.  Resting on top of the
sarcophagus was a single item, a large silver hammer.  It had a long
shaft, it would require two hands to use he thought.  The head was made of
pure silver.  The image of a dragon was etched into the face of the head.
 At the other end of the shaft was a silver fist.  He had read the
tale a hundred times while they were on the ship and he knew what it was that he
was looking at.  Solarths Fist, the weapon that was given to Keltor the
Peacebringer to end the war between the gods chosen people.  Michael’s
eyes studied the weapon from one end to the other.  Yet he would not touch
it with his hands.  I have no right to this, I am not worthy of this
honor.  He was about to turn away when he saw that he was no longer alone
in the room.  A human, no more than thirty years of age stood before him.
 White robes covered the armor he wore.  It wasn't until Michaels
shifted did he notice the person was more spectral than solid.

    
"Who is to say you are not worthy?  You are a true believer and you
came not for yourself but for the need of others. Most of all, you came with
love in your heart.  Not for yourself but for the ones around you that you
call your friends."
     "Even the halfling?" Michaels asked the man.
     "Yes, even the halfling. Your relationships with
the ones around you are pure.  If any of this was in doubt, you would not
be standing here."
     "What do I do now?"
     "You take the gifts that have been given to you.
You use them in the best way you know how. Have faith and you will know what to
do." Michaels looked at the strange spirit and wondered just who it was
that he was talking to.  His eyes were then drawn to the hammer,
inspecting it from afar one final time before he reached out to take it.
     "There is no turning around after this is
there?" Michaels asked. Yet when he turned to look at the spirit, it was
no longer with him. "So it must be." he said to no one at all. He
reached out with one hand and grasped the shaft under the head. "Solarth,
give me the strength to use this wisely." As he started to lift, he felt
it resist for a small moment.  Perhaps it was only in his mind.  With
one hand on the weapon he lifted up and held the gleaming head in front of his
face.  As he held the weapon there, he could see his face reflected back
at him.  Looking into his eyes, he felt the change come over him. The
darkness that had been around him was gone, the doubt he had in himself and his
fellows was gone as well. Peace had once again found its way into the heart of
the troubled paladin.  When he turned to leave the tomb, another feeling
came over him.  This was only a loan, while he was given this gift; he
knew it was meant for another.

     “Very well
then, I shall return this when I can.  You may keep Vindex until I
return."  Reaching over his shoulder, Michaels removed the massive
two handed blade from his back.  It had served him well over the past year.
 Laying it on the floor next to the sarcophagus with care, Michaels stood
up and turned to leave. "Duty now calls! Farewell spirit." With that
said, Michaels marched out of the room.  Back up the stairs and out of the
main temple.  The pews were empty and the man leading the choir was gone
as well.  Michaels knew they were never there to begin with.  They
were just the signs he needed to return to the proper path.  The value of
darkness was lifted, his course was clear.  When he closed the main temple
doors behind him, he saw his friend Darmot in the vestibule.  He wanted to
tell him of what he had seen, what he had experienced.  Yet in the end all
he could do was smile at his friend.  When that smile was returned, what
had passed, no longer mattered.
--------------------------------------------------------------

    
"Don't start the fight without me lad!" Ebbit shouted as he rode away
from his new friend. The dwarf didn't warm up to most folks but these humans
were ok by him.  They understood the meaning of honor and duty.
 Sometimes, honor is all a dwarf has to call his own.  His home land
was taken from him, long before he was born.  Yet it was something the
entire clan still felt the sting of.  Blasted Orc he thought while flying down
the road.  The old mountain clan had fallen apart. Only a few of the
families left still clung together.  Ebbit believed that if something
wasn't done soon, they would never reclaim their homeland.  It would
forever be marked on the human maps as Orcenhome.  Just thinking of that
name made the dwarf sick to his stomach.  It was a pain that no amount of
ale would dull.  Ebbit wondered if they would ever try to recapture their
home or just continue to swallow the bitter taste of failure.

    
"Whoa! I said whoa ya big beast!" Ebbit shouted to the horse while
madly pulling on the reigns.  So lost in thought he had almost ridden by
the broken down wagon without stopping. While the dead Orc captain was still
there rotting in the sun.  The one they had left tied up was gone.
 Ebbit was afraid to get down from the horse as he needed help getting up
there in the first place.  He took a quick look around the wagon.  On
the west side of the road he saw the rope bundles.  He had been tied up by
Windfall before and Ebbit couldn't believe anyone could get out of that without
some kind of help. "Yer lucky I have bigger logs to cut or I'd track ya
down right now!" Taking a quick look at the dusty road, he couldn't see
any tracks.  He must have run through the grass the dwarf thought.
"Ok, let’s go." the dwarf said as he once again got the horse back up
to top riding speed.  Ebbit never saw the scared eyes watching him from
the tall grass, the eyes filled with pain and hatred.

     Grunting
out loud he could not believe the young Orc had gotten away from the ropes
Windfall had put on him. "I couldn't do it. Bastard half elf must be
getting soft in his old age." Yet that wasn't true, deep down inside he
knew it.  He had known the bounty hunter for close to thirty years.
 He had just left home for the first time.  Ebbit figured he would
try his hand at a life of adventure.  See if he had what it takes to make
a name for himself.  He set out on the road without a map and just saw where
the road would take him.  He didn't even know he was in Eystlund until he
found himself in the little town of Glenn Meadows.  Little farming town
that had a little of everything.  It was a nice mix of humans, elves and
dwarves.  It was where Ebbit met Falconis, an old hunter that did all he
could to help the little town.  The two of them hit it off right away.
 He taught the dwarf almost everything he knew about hunting and trapping.
 How to track a beast in the wild.  It wasn’t until a few years later
that he learned why Falconis was living in that little two track town.  It
was the same day he met Windfall for the first time.

      They
were out hunting deer, winter was coming and the people in town would need all
the meat they could store away. They had taken two large bucks that afternoon.
 They had just left the wood line when they saw him standing there, sword
in hand.  Ebbit thought they were being robbed and wanted to defend what
was theirs.  He never saw Falconis turn and run.  Before he knew it,
he was there on the ground with the two dead deer, tied up neat as you please.
 He remembered looking up and seeing the cloaked figure dart into the
forest.  Before he could work himself back up to his knees, the cloaked
figure was walking back out of the forest, with Falconis in irons.  Never
before had the dwarf felt such frustration, never before had he felt so
helpless.  He did the only thing he could think of, scream insults at the
cloaked man who didn't even react.

     
“Ebbit, calm down." Falconis told him. "I have something to tell
you." The dwarf looked up at his friend the best he could. "I killed
a man in Westheath a few years ago. It was an accident but I ran.  It is
time for me to pay for my crime and I want you to take care of my place for me.
My brother Riley is supposed to be around this fall, once he gets here, give it
all over to him.  Do you understand?" Ebbit was shocked as he had
never met a human that he liked as much as Falconis.  Ebbit told him that
he understood and that he would do as he asked. The cloaked man untied the
dwarf and left him there with the spoils from the hunt.  He never saw his
mentor again.  Later that winter, the bounty hunter who took Falconis away
returned.  When Ebbit opened the door he thought he was in some kind of
trouble.

     "I
would like to talk." the half elf said to him. Ebbit squinted up at the
half elf, unsure if he should close the door or not. After a minute he stepped
aside and invited him into Falconis's home. "Your friend spoke very highly
of you the entire way back to Westheath.  I was wondering if you would
like a job." Ebbit was shocked.  As he thought about it, over the
years that shock never wore off for him.  Ebbit stayed in Glenn Meadows
for the next five years, helping out when he could.  When the half elf
came calling, he would go out with him.  He grew to respect the half elf
more than any other person he had met before. There was always work and the
half elf paid him well, granted it wasn't easy or even safe work.