Follows:
During the week long trip, Wyn kept up a running commentary about some of the benefits of shrimp and how to some swamp elves, it can be considered, “the fruit of the sea.”
Abraxis scratched his head. “Fruit isn’t a sea thing, Windy.”
The elf sighed and replied, “No, it’s a saying. If you’d like, I can tell you ‘bout where I am from, ‘long wit’ all the gators, coons, and down ‘ome cookin’, yah I kin say.”
“No.”
Wyn, who was ready to launch into the story about his home turned to look at Kovid. “Dwarfriend, wot do yo mean, ‘no’, ami?”
“You asked if I’d like. And I don’t like.” He bristled his beard and sighed. “And truthfully, between Lannis swearing he knows everything…”
“I do!” the mage replied indignantly.
The dwarf continued, eying Lannis sideways,“And you going on and on about all sorts of shrimp I think it’s time that maybe someone else tell a tell about where they came from, given that we are going to be travelling for a bit and adventuring together.”
“Well, I don’t know where you come from, Master Dwarf, but up here in civilized lands, you have to wait your turn.” Lannis harrumphed and crossed his skinny arms across his chest, hat flopping sideways as he did so.
“What to know how I got my nickname, Manslayer, Manling?”
“Wait,” Wyn asked, “That’s not your clan name?”
Kovid chuckled. “Not even close.” He gripped the end of his hammer and sighed. “And it’s not one I’m proud to have, but to all dwarves, your name is who you are and no dwarf would deny any part of themselves.”
“I’m the son of Kovid XVIII. The Kovid name runs as deep as the iron mines beneath the small dwarven city we hail from. Manslayer is a title, given somewhat ironically, but a welcome one.”
“Go on,” Lyra prodded as the dwarf grew silent.
“Deep in the iron mines, I developed a strange cough that lasted many weeks. Perhaps from some of the strange mold and fungi that grew down there, I didn't know. And truthfully, if it had nothing to do with extracting iron, as a clan, we didn’t care much as to its origin.”
He kicked a loose rock and then continued. “Throughout the mine the cough was passed from Dwarf to Dwarf but it was nothing more than an annoyance. Later, me and my father, the foreman of the mine, were set to negotiate a trade with a Manling settlement: A few crates of HIGH quality iron in exchange for some much needed meat and grain.”
“Seems fair,” Lannis offered.
“True, Dwarves typically don’t waster much time on harvesting or husbandry. My father…” he paused, tilting his head back in thought, “is a dwarf of some questionable morals…”
“A dickweed,” Lannis offered as Kovid paused.
“Perhaps. However, he did secretly place mostly LOWER quality iron in the crates. He believed humans stupid and wouldn't know the difference. At the time of the meeting even though a crate was inspected the deception DID go unnoticed. I felt pretty terrible about double crossing the human traders but my father was almost dancing with glee. I shook the human leader's hand, and accidently let out a single short cough. In the sun I could see spittle hang in the air a moment, before we went their separate ways.”
The Dwarf drew his war hammer and inspected its head, frowning as he recalled his story. “It was that damn mine cough, but I was glad it was almost gone. The next night I confronted my father about his deception and was furious, but there was not much to be done. Hopefully the manlings would be dumb enough not to know the difference in iron quality.”
He sighed, “Were we fucking wrong.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Brendon interrupted. “Was this like 5 years ago? What was the name of that place…Whan Province?”
Kovid nodded and Brendon whistled. “Whoa. I know how this ends.”
Abraxis nudged the thief. “I don’t! Let him finish. Go on Senor Kornfed, tell us the rest.”
Clearing his throat, Kovid resumed his tale. “The next day scouts could see an army of thousands over the ridge, forming ranks, and erecting trebuchets ready to raid the dwarven city. My father had cheated the wrong humans. We holed up in the mines and mountains, shut the paths, and hunkered down preparing for the raid the best we could; knowing an attack could come at any moment. Then a day passed... and then another... All was quiet over the ridge. Spotters could see all movement had ceased.”
“What was going on?” Abraxis asked
“The Thane demanded that my father take a small party over the ridge to inspect what had happened.” Kovid sighed, eyes getting misty. “The war effort had been abandoned. It looked like many fled, but hundreds did not. Every single soldier that remained...lay dead on the ground.”
“Dead?” Lyra asked. “Plague, sickness?”
Kovid nodded shamefaced. “I can still remember it. Blood spattered over their mouths, most clutching their chests as they died. No other manlings from Whan Province ever had dealing with our clan again. Perhaps whatever struck this encampment affected the entire settlement. It was unclear what really happened but the last exchange between the two races stuck in my father’s twisted mind.”
He resheathed his hammer and lifted his head, walking on with his back straight. “My father…my proud father,” he spat, “he patted me, his son on the back, like I should revel in what happened, and laughed. ‘Son,’ he said to me and the other dwarves nearby listening, ‘you saved us with a single cough.’ "
The group was silent for a while until Abraxis cleared his throat and asked, “So…why do they call you Manslayer then?”
The party laughed and Wyn grumbled, “Ahnd for this tale of genocide ahnd dwarven greed, I had to shelve moi story?”
Lannis shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, I’m sure my story is more interesting than yours.”
Wyn eyed Lannis with an ached brow. “That…I doubt high, mon ami. I doubt it highly.”
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