When hope is placed in the hopeless, Life is restored.
His eyes snapped open, with an accompaning gasp of air being drawn into lungs.
Slowly, Torgian's senses came back to him... he soon noticed that he was laying in a cot that was a bit too short for his frame, though it was certainly wide enough. As his brain began to recognize sound, he heard the sound of a deep throated hum. The clink and clack of dishes could be heard from what he thought was probably the kitchen. More distant, he could hear the birdsong outside the nearby window. A faint breeze blew into the room.
Torgian tried to sit up, but the pain made him groan... which caused him to have a bad headache, so he slowly lowered himself down back onto the matress, which strangely smelled of mead and straw. Not too pleasant of a smell.
"Oi!" said a voice from the nearby kitchen. Apparantly the house's occupant had heard Torgian groaned, and the sound of heavy steps could be heard.
Into the room came a dwarf, long in beard and short in stature. Strangely enough, the sound of dishes could still be heard being cleaned... Torgian thought that perhaps there was another dwarf in the house.
"Ey, laddy?" said the dwarf softly. "Ye feelin awright?"
Torgian mumbled something that sounded like, "Nrrf..."
"Eh. I be gitten ye a good mug o' mead." The dwarf stuck his head through the room's portal. "EY! GLIFFER!" yelled the dwarf, which caused Torgian to wince. "Gitter me a pitcher of mead, and bring me two of em mugs, will ye laddy?! And 'urry it up!"
The dwarf turned back to Torgian, smiling. "Well then, me mate'll bring us some mead and perhaps ye can tell me yer story after ye get a bit of me dwarven 'oney in yer gut, eh?"
Torgian just nodded slightly.
And then, the gnome walked in, carrying a pitcher and two mugs. He set the items on a nearby end-table and filled the two mugs with foaming mead. Afterwards, the gnome, whom Torgian assumed was Gliffer, handed the dwarf both mugs.
"Awright, Gliffer, thank ye lad." The dwarf took a swig of mead as Gliffer moved next to Torgian, slipping his short arms around Torgian's back, gently pulling him up. Torgian winced at the movement, feeling bruises and a strange emptyness in his left side, but couldn't provide any resistance... soon he was in a sitting position, a mug of mead placed in his cold hands.
Shakily, Torgian tried to lift the mug to his lips, but his hands shook, and he would have dropped the mug if it wasn't for the quick reaction of Gliffer catching and holding the mug. Then the gnome slowly fed Torgian the drink, allowing him to take short sips. Torgian could soon feel a bit of strength returning to his limbs, and soon was drinking from the mug himself.
"Well laddy," said the dwarf once the gnome went to the door and stood silently nearby. "I be Dwolin Hammercack. Ye gots yerself a name?"
"T...Torgian," he said, his voice cracking and weak.
"Ahh, Torgian it be, hrm? So how come ye were layin in me waterfall with a rock stickin through yer ribs hrm?" asked the dwarf Dwolin.
"Uhm.... r..ro...ck?" Torgian shook his head slightly, trying to remember. "Ah... right.. well um... long story."
"Well I gots me time. Tell me laddy."
And so, slowly, Torgian related to the dwarf with his strange gnomish companion about the woman with long silver hair, and of the moon Luclin reappearing with a silver crescent gaze each time he saw her, and of how he supposidly died and was almost captured by some sort of wizard named Lethgrad.
It took about an hour in its retelling, and by then Torgian had drank several mugs of mead.
@mn" target=_blank>D@mn, but was that stuff good or what.
The dwarf nodded afterwards, and Gliffer, who had been cooking during the story telling, soon came in with two steaming loaves of bread, a pot of stew which smelled of mutton and vegetables, and a few peaches. Behind him, a table... floated?! Yes, floated into the room and set down next to the dwarf and Torgian. Torgian raised an eyebrow at this spectacle.
"Hrm? Ah.. Gliffer. Good fellow," the dwarf said as the gnome went back into the kitchen. "Ye see, he be a mute sorcerer. Kinna strange, yes, but 'e be a good lad. Met 'im in me younger days, and well, we're kinna retired now." He poured some of the thick soup into a bowl and ripped a chunk of bread off from a loaf, then handed both to Torgian.
"Ere ye go laddy. Eat up, but eat slowly now ye hear? Dun be pukin all over me bed!" said the dwarf with a stern eye. Then he chuckled and slapped his knee.
Torgian smiled broadly, for the first time in ages. He began to eat slowly, as Dwolin the dwarf continued speaking.
"Suppose I best tell ye a bit of meself now. I used ta be a cleric in me younger days, and travelled the world spreading the faith, and crushing a few skulls in the process, mind ye.
"I met Gliffer about ohh, around fifty or so years back. Ye lose count after a while, eh?" Dwolin paused to take a huge bite out of a loaf of bread, then gulped some stew. He burped, loudly too. Torgian chuckled, which Dwolin responded with a smile.
"Anyhoo, he and I spent about ten years together, but then we gots into a fight with an [Removed for Content] of an ice giant mage. Glimmer fergot to cast some sorta spell of some sort, or whatnot and well... that's 'ow he lost 'is voice, righto? Damned ice mage took 'is voice. So after I killed the bum, we went into this glade 'ere and set ourself a new life. Glimmer cannae cast spells anymore, 'cept fer a few, but he make a
d@mn good cook, and I find meself gots a knack fer gardenin!"
Torgian blinked. A dwarf, gardening?
"Oi, by the way, laddy, I took it upon meself to git yer armour fixed.
@mn" target=_blank>D@mn boy, 'ow could ye let yer armour get all rusty? Ahh, but I suppose I understan' what with yer recent adventures and all. Anyhoo, yer armour's as good as new, and I found ye a good, sturdy sword as well."
Torgian shook his head slowly, amazed. "All that aside.. you actually believe my story? I almost can't believe it myself."
"Ach! Lad, I been a cleric fer many years... saved ye from the brink too lad. Of course I believe yer story. The part where he was takin yer soul? Bah... that proved it ta me, lad."
"Erm... how so?"
Dwolin looked at Torgian with what seemed to be a pained expression, though he couldn't tell due to the dwarf's very wrinkled and very ugly face.
"Lad, I've been spendin the past week healin ye, and keepin ye stable... Part of yer soul has been taken. Very strange, I think, but ye should be allright," replied the dwarf.
"A... week? I've been out for a week?"
"Aye, lad."
Torgian took this in slowly, scarcely beliving it. He slowly ate his food as he thought... then blinked. "Shi... I gotta get back to her! I got to find her!" He began to try and get out of bed, but Dwolin quickly stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. Dwolin didn't have to press too hard.
"Shut it, laddy. Yer still in bad shape, but ye'll be walkin about in a few days, and should be good to go in a month. 'Till I say otherwise, yer stayin here. Look, I know ye want to go finds her, but the simple truth is, ye don't even know where to start, aye?"
Torgian grumbled, then sighed heavily. "Yeah... I guess you're right."
"Mm. Get some rest laddy. I'll be stokin the fire fer the night, so ye just sit here. If ye need to use the chamberpot, it's in the room right over there, lad." With that, Dwolin got up and left the room, leaving the rest of the food behind in case Torgian wanted to eat it later on.
A week. A whole week. Who knows what that Lethgrad was doing to her right now.
Then he puked over the side of the bed.
Perhaps the mead was too good.
Message Edited by Rejor2 on 11-24-2004 07:05 PM