Warchildren Scene 8

Mathias sent some of the local children out with a few coppers to find the Warchildren and deliver a message to each. One by one they straggled in from the storm raging outside the Temple and met around the dinner table in the kitchen of the rectory. Many of them were soaked from the storm despite the cloaks they were wearing when they came in and hung up beside the door. The rain lashed the shuttered windows and the wind howled against the stone walls, begging to be let in. The distant and not so distant crash of thunder could be heard occasionally, gradually getting closer and more intense. Flashes of lighting would creep in around the edges of the shutters.

        The warchildren each found places around the table or along the wall. They spoke softly among themselves, each wondering what could be so important that Father would summon them on an evening like this. Arn and Magnus joked with each other. Ugadda and Wyndreth brooded in their separate corners and Mialee and Cogwyn spoke softly with each other. Mathias entered the room and when he had their attention he began to speak.

        “The creature we spoke about this morning is most likely a dragon.” Mathias said simply.

        “You too Father?” Arn blurted out. “I thought Magnus was the only moon brain in the family.”

        “Dragon's do exist in the world, Arn. Magnus is right. They are very rare. When they are young they search for a lair and begin hunting the countryside.” Mathias told them. “They will eat any kind of meat, including people if they can catch them. This one seems to be a young one based on its diet and the tracks Mialee discovered last night.”

        Magnus nudged Arn while Father Mathias explained and gave him a big grin and an “I told you so dwarf” look on his face. “You should listen to me more often, shorty. You might learn a thing or two.”

        “Fat chance of that happening,” Arn muttered back.

        “Someone or something may be assisting this dragon as well. Trade along the old road to Stormhaven has pretty much stopped. This dragon could be attacking merchant wagons and caravans or it could just be a case of simple bandits and a coincidence. I don't think it is coincidence though. Merchants coming from Hammerfall to the east have also not been making it to us. Trade along the river has dropped off considerably and the towns of Granite Falls and Woodhaven to the south have not been heard from in some time. The Lord Mayor thinks this may be some strategy to isolate us for some reason.”

        “What does this have to do with us Father?” Cogwyn asked sweetly.

        “I spoke with the Lord Mayor this morning and he concurs with my assessment. He asked me to offer a bounty of five hundred golden suns for you to track down and slay this dragon for him. If it some other beast he has offered two hundred suns for its head.”

        “That is a lot of money certainly Father,” Wyndreth spoke up from the back of the small kitchen. “However, we can't spend it if we are dead.”

        “Why didn't he post a general bounty and let some real hero's come and slay this thing?” Mialee asked from the end of the table.

        “Hell's! Why doesn't he just take the watch out and kill it?” Arn said.

        “Trust me, the Watch is not trained or able to handle this, if it is indeed a dragon.” Father Mathias countered. “If anyone is assisting this dragon or raiding the old road he has also offered a bounty of five gold suns for each of their heads as well. The town needs the trade from the surrounding towns and they need our trade goods as well. We need metals like iron and steel from Hammerfall. We need salt and cotton from Stormhaven. We get our stone from Granite Falls and ironwood from Woodhaven. They get our wheat, beef and lumber. If we were to fall to an invader it would severely weaken the surrounding towns and leave them open for conquest as well.”

        “That could be a lot of heads Father.” Arn joked. “We might need a wagon!”

        “This is not a joking matter Arn. A dragon is a very dangerous creature.” Mathias frowned at them. “You could all very easily be killed.”

        “We will do this thing for you Father,” Ugadda finally spoke from across the wooden table. Her arms had been crossed and a fierce expression had settled on her face since the discussion began. “But not for the gold.”

        “Speak for yourself bone-crusher,” Wyndreth said with a sneer of disgust. “That's enough gold to finally get me out of this crap-hole of a town.”

        “That's a lot of ale, eh Magnus?” Arn slapped Magnus on the back and began laughing.

        “We owe Father for everything he has done for us these last eighteen years. Do we not owe him and the town that much?” Ugadda was standing now as she spoke.

        “Well you can count Magnus and I in.” Arn stood and dragged Magnus to his feet.

        “What? Since when do you speak for me dwarf? I'll go, but only to see the dragon choke on your scruffy beard.” Magnus reached over and yanked on the dwarf's short beard.

        “Hey, don't touch the beard pretty boy,” Arn pulled away and tossed Magnus's hand aside. “Unless you be meaning to get me good and drunk first.” The dwarf winked at Magnus who just rolled his eyes in disgust.

        “We are going to need a tracker if we are ever going to find this thing,” Magnus turned and looked at Mialee. “Are you in sister?”

        “Sure, someone needs to keep you four out of trouble.”

        The eyes of everyone turned to Cogwyn as she sat at the end of the table brushing her long golden hair. She had a far way look on her face. They had seen that look often enough when she was trying to sort out some thorny problem. No one expected her kind soul to jump at the chance to hunt down and kill some creature no matter how dangerous that creature was. She wouldn't even eat meat, when they could get such a luxury. As far as anyone knew she had never intentionally hurt another living creature.

        “I am the best healer in town,” she finally said, “and before this is done I fear some of you will need that skill.”

        “Where should we start looking?” Magnus asked. “This dragon obviously flies. It could be anywhere.”

        “Dragons will find somewhere secluded, a cave or ruins, to lair in. Somewhere defensible and hard to find. Dragons feed once a ten-day when they are young and must sleep while they digest their prey. When they are asleep is when they are most vulnerable.” Mathias instructed the group. “Dragons will sometimes entice lesser races like Wyrmlings to watch over them and guard them while they sleep off their latest meal. Wyrmlings worship dragons as gods.”

        “These Wyrmlings might be the ones raiding the old road for supplies then.” Ugadda offered.

        “They may also be offering up the captive merchants and guards as sacrifices to their new god.” Mathias told them. Skilled they may be but they were still young and naive about the way the world really works outside the walls of the town.

        “That is horrible!” Cogwyn cried out. “Would they really do that Father?”

        “Yes and worse,” he said with a flatness to his voice they had never heard there before. They all knew he had been a warrior once, long ago, but none of them had ever seen him angry or hurt another living soul. “You will need weapons and armor. Come with me.”

       

       

        The door was hidden behind a shelf of preserves in the cellar of the temple. Mathias slide the entire eight foot shelf out of the way with one hand. Hidden tracks within the stone let the tall shelf full of food glide to one side with hardly any effort. A heavy iron-bound oak door lay behind the shelf. Father Mathias retrieved a key from a pouch from around his neck. None of them had ever seen him wear that pouch before. He slide the iron key into the keyhole and twisted. Metal clicked and clanked within the door and ended with a significant thunk! He reached out and pushed the heavy door open with both hands. As it swung inward he reached back and grabbed a torch from beside the door and entered the room alone. The flame of his torch disappeared into the gloom. More light began to filter out of the room as he lit more torches within. When he returned to the door he placed the torch back within its sconce and beckoned them to come within.

        “We have an armory?” Arn said, confused.

        “Apparently,” Magnus shrugged, “who knew?”

        They both stepped into the hidden room and everyone else followed. Inside there were racks of weapons and armor. Swords, hammers, daggers, maces and pole-arms lay in neat orderly wooden racks down the center of the room. Bows, crossbows, spears, javelins and slings hung along the walls with arrows, bolts and sling bullets in wooden buckets. On the far wall there were pieces of armor made from leather and chain mail. There was another heavy wood and iron bound door at the other end of the armory.

        “What is in there?” Cogwyn pointed at the door.

        “Through there are the caverns where I have stored food and other supplies.” Mathias replied. “You may take whatever equipment you think you may need. Feel free to help yourselves.”

        “Father? Where did all of this stuff come from?” Mialee wondered softly.

        “I had this built shortly after taking over from the old priest who was here before me.” Mathias replied evasively.

        “Why?” Magnus asked confused, “What have you been expecting? The end of the world?”

        “I was thinking zombies.” Arn admitted and looked at Ugadda.

        “The Dread.” Ugadda said staring directly at Mathias.

        “Penny for my pretty girl,” Mathias said smiling at Ugadda and tossed her a copper.

        “After the Dread swept through the vale we secretly built these all over town. To hide in and save the people from certain death.” Mathias admitted, “We did not want to watch the townsfolk suffer as they did last time. Property can be remade, homes rebuilt but people cannot be replaced.”

        “Hell's yeah!!!” Arn shouted as he spotted a set of chain mail his size along the back wall. “Magnus come over here and help me get this on will ya?”

        Magnus turned toward him holding a large footman's hammer and grinning like a fool. “Look Arn it has a little dragon relief on the head.”

        Mialee, Cogwyn and Ugadda turned and looked at each other and said simultaneously “Boys! Ugh!” and began laughing.

        The small group moved through the racks of weapons and armor trying on different pieces and swinging different weapons testing their balance and size. They were down there for hours trying everything until they were satisfied they had all found what they needed and worked best for each of their needs. Arn and Magnus were both covered in chain mail with a  padded gambeson underneath and a tunic on the outside. They each had a hammer and shield and a good steel helmet on their thick heads.

        The ladies all wore leather leggings and jerkins. Mialee had chosen a staff and sling with a pouch of leaden sling bullets at her side. She also wore her woodland cloak over it all.

        Cogwyn wore simple leather leggings, jerkin and a white cotton tunic over it. She also carried a dagger and a sling but she was unsure if she could ever actually use them.

        Ugadda wore loose fitting leather leggings, jerkin and thick leather bracers over her forearms. She carried no weapon. She preferred her fists and never even so much as learned how to use a dagger.

        Wyndreth chose black leather leggings and jerkin and a dark cloak. He was festooned with daggers of all shapes and sizes. Boot daggers, throwing daggers, a large belt dagger that was almost a short sword and a small crossbow completed his weapon load out.

        “By the Nine Hells, Wyndreth! If you trip and fall you are more likely to stab yourself than land safely.” Arn laughed.

        “You might want to stay down here tonight Winn,” Magnus joined in, “What with all the lightning going on outside.”

        Wyndreth turned and made his way back upstairs without saying a word. A dark shape that disappeared into the shadows of the dark cellar.

        “What's wrong with him?” Magnus asked no one in particular.

        “What's always wrong with him...” Arn answered.

        “Alright everyone,” Mathias said, “you had better get to bed. You are going to need your strength tomorrow.”

        “Good night Father,” they all said as they filed past and out of the hidden armory. They spoke together joking and smiling as they made their way back upstairs to the rectory. Father Mathias lingered for a moment and extinguished each of the torches in the armory. He did not want them to see his tears and they rolled down his cheeks. His children had finally grown up and tomorrow he might be sending them to their deaths.

        He turned and walked to the back of the armory. He slowly removed a silver key from the pouch around his neck. He placed the key into the lock and spoke secret words under his breath. Thirteen symbols began to glow in a circle in the middle of the door. The golden runes spun slowly and and then stopped. The door opened inward on silent hinges. Father Mathias stepped inside and the door closed behind him.