Private Tales Reuse and Repurpose

[Volker]

The mountains had always been a good place to winter over. There was game into the late autumn, and plenty of edible plants if one knew where to look. Volker could be raiding squirrel caches, as well as the squirrels themselves, until the last deer disappeared with the snows. Foothills were plentiful, with cool steams and easily defensible areas.

Volker would be recalled into the urban areas when Oor had a job for him. Until then he was trusted enough to wander off and provide for himself. If that wasn’t enough, Oor always held his leash as a warlock. He could tug that leash whenever he liked.

Volker was older, but a considerable amount of muscle clung to his frame. Coupling that with the human bone knives around his thigh and the curse in his head...he made for a tough opponent even without his patron.

There had been a disturbance of some sort in the night. A dwarven village nearby had been flattened. Not just the people inside killed, but wiped down to the foundations. Crumbling buildings and smoke was all that remained, and where there was ruin there was opportunity.

Volker wasn’t the first scavenger. Coyotes and other carrion eaters had been worrying at several bodies. He knelt and examined them with pursed lips. Useless. He moved on and pulled out another body. Dwarves were smaller, but that worked for Volker. Less cleaning. He set the body aside and began to dig through the rubble. A waterskin. Always useful. A few furs, dusty and singed but usable.

Volker packed up what he could and made for the square, drinking from the well and moving to another house. Food preserves he couldn’t get anywhere other than a city were his main goals. Stashes of dried beans, tinned bread and the like. He moved a heavy beam, grunting with the effort, and began to sift through the second building.

 

[Aldacer Stonegazer]

Most at the least wouldn't realize Dwaelvinstad had a kingdom inside the mountains. The town had sprung up as a convenience for traders and tradespeople, and as a way to keep true wealth unknown from outsiders. Stoneshaping was a rare talent even in dwarves, and the bloodlines of the 'Stad had more of those than anything, so as a dwarf is apt to do, they hoarded their wealth excepting a few close allies and friends. Trading villages weren't unknown, but they were almost always near a stronghold.

Aldacer had been tracking someone in the village for a while, from a ruined slit in a 'wall' shaped from the roots of the mountain. The outside wouldn't notice a difference, but he was a scant few hundred yards away from the trade-town, using a mounted spyglass. Not for the first time, he caught himself wishing he could puzzle out the engineers who mounted it, and how to take it with him when he finally did go.

Shrugging and tugging at the fiery mane of beard, he checked the braid of his topknot, a mark of those who worked with the Stone in his kind. Adjusting the belt at his waist, he checked the longknife at his navel and the two mattocks crossed at his back. No Stoneshaper would be caught without one. Not if he wanted to keep his beard.

Stepping to the door, Aldacer turned what looked like a river-smooth shelf in the rock and stepped into the daylight as he put on the masked helm. Mounting the ram nearby, he sat off at a brisk trot, a crossbow with a boxed magazine holding bolts at his saddle-side that he drew. It was less powerful than the others of his kind, with less range as a consequence. But the rate of fire when mounted made up for it.

As Volker moved the beam, a trio of bolts would thud into it, and he would feel the stone of the ruined house he trod in the remains of suddenly turning to soupy mud, like a swamp, sucking at his legs. Aldacer's voice echoed out, cold and booming from the casque helm he wore.

"You will cease looting the dead. Now. Or cease to be."

 

[Volker]

Volker heard the bolts and thrust the beam in front of him, baring his teeth. Someone was here. He felt the stones beneath his feet turn thick, and he lifted his feet out of it with a loud sucking sound. He moved away as well as he could, seeking solid ground. A knife flicked up into his palm and he listened for the voice again, head lowered on his shoulders.

“The dead have no need of this.” He said sharply. “You would leave it to rot. It is wasteful. I am seeking food and if I can repurpose furs. If you have survived this, protecting the dead is the least of your worries. Let me be.”

Volker hauled his leg out of the muddy stone again. He could become tired very quickly with this nonsense. He looked back at where he’d left the corpse. That was a lot of meat that needed to get cut up, and soon. “There is more than enough for both of us.” Volker reasoned, though he had the knife in his hand ready to throw. He wouldn’t mind fresher food if the other forced his hand.

 

[Aldacer Stonegazer]

This time the reloading of the crossbow came as a click, as the ram trotted into view. The armor he wore was not, per se, his. But it was fitted to him. He had just never seen a need to wear such before. The heavy leather and scale skirting swayed as he pointed the crossbow at Volker in a no-nonsense way. Not violent, but brooking no argument.

"The dead will be buried. Or you will join them. Help me in this, and belongings are yours to take as need dictates, with rare exceptions. The bodies are sacred, and all that remains of my people. On this, there is no negotiating."

The man spoke reason, and bore the marks of a life in the field of death. He wouldn't begrudge the other survival, but everything had a cost. And he should be able to overpower him if need be. A finger itched at the trigger as he waited on a reply.

 

[Volker]

Volker didn’t like the idea of burial. It was waste. Especially when a single body could last him weeks with careful preparation. He could always return and dig them up later, but it was irritating. He eyed the dwarf aiming the crossbow at him. He didn’t like his chances with his legs stuck. He hated magic. On a level playing field he could perhaps take one of the bolts and get to the dwarf before he had time to reload it. But with his legs like this? The man would have ample time.

Volker snorted loudly. He didn’t like this. “Fine.” He said simply. All he needed was the dwarf to put that crossbow down long enough. “It will take a long time in rocky soil without shovels. Their spirits are gone and most of them
show signs of being chewed on by animals. Sacred has no place on a battlefield.” And burial mounds were far easier larders to raid, but there wasn’t any need to tell the other that, was there?

“Release my legs. I cannot help bury them when I am sunk to my knees.” He told the dwarf. He would have to be careful around him, but he was still planning to grab a body and sneak off.

 

[Aldacer Stonegazer]

"You flee, or attack, and I will fill your lungs' with the Mother's Embrace."

It was said grimly, and perhaps to an outside the term at the end made no sense, but to Aldacer... To him... It was said as a cold threat. Turning for the moment, he brought the mattocks up, the earth around Volker holding fast as solid stone for what came next.

With both ends of the first mining tool turned ceremonial mage tool, he carved symbols a few yards long, then traced a wide circle. He hadn't the time to bury them each individually as was custom. But a cairn for them all together, that he could do. Coming back to the beginning of the circle he drew with the second mattock. and brought both together with a clanging ring that seemed deeper than it had right to be. With a rumble groan, the ground sloughed away in a deep bowl, wide as the boundary the second tool had traced. Enough for a hundred or so bodies. This was taxing even for the Stoneshaper, as his brow beaded in sweat.

"Take anything that appears of value or use. I will look through it quickly. And I can outfit you if you have great need, in exchange for your recanting the prior violation of these bodies and helping me see them to peace. I have ample stores enough."

The last statement seemed half threat, half promise, but not altogether unfriendly. A way to start fresh, perhaps, for both.

 

[Volker]

Volker eyed the stone at his legs. It turned solid, which did not make him feel any more settled. If this dwarf had such a command of rock and stone, all Volker wanted was to get away from him. Volker was mistrustful of magic enough as it was, that a man who could carve away into soil this rocky had him at a disadvantage. Volker had come to scavenge, not to fight.

“You are the only surviving member of this village, if it truly is yours.” Volker observed as he looked around. If this man wanted to outfit him, he wasn’t going to complain. It just meant he would leave the carrion for another scavenger and take what he could. That, and if the dwarf was foolish enough to show him where the stores were....he could last even longer.

“I accept your offer.” Volker grunted, and eyed his legs. “Now release me.”

 

[Aldacer Stonegazer]

"Kingdom. The Village is barely an outpost, but humans rarely look beyond the surface of things."

Grunting, Volker's feet were released rather suddenly and abruptly as he nodded.

"I was in a side shaft of a mine, investigating some findings by a crew, who I had sent back for a cart. Whatever did this you see, missed me by chance. The rest of the hold is in ruins, as is the outer village."

Grabbing a nearby body, Aldacer made quick work stripping it of jewelry and metal. The people of Dwaelinstad didn't take riches on their bodies. The famed and powerful would be buried in tombs with riches on display, but the bodies were always buried plainly. Trinkets and valuables gifted to the community or to specific folk. The piles had rough organization. Jewelry, plain trinkets, and useful devices. Weapons were to the side, and it seemed every dwarf had at least a longknife on his or her person. One in particular Aldacer paused, before flipping it in his hand and catching it by the blade, offering it to the stranger.

"This knife would serve well. Old steel from the Eld Days of the Kingdom before some of our skill was lost. I am Aldacer Stonegazer, a Warden of the Kingdom. I thank you for your help, and apologize for my abruptness. Grief has driven me off my manners, even if you were violating corpses, who knows why..."

Gesturing to the piles, and then the corpses, he turned back to the grisly task. The implication was clear - Sort the goods. place the bodies in the pit.

Volker

 

[Volker]

Volker yanked his feet free and shook them, snorting. He was going to try to avoid having that particular spell put on him again. He eyed the dwarf as he began stripping valuables and organizing them. Gold would do Volker very little good; his patron had raised him to be self sufficient. There was a reason for that...it meant Volker had no ambition where coin was concerned. That was firmly left in the hands of his handlers. As long as Volker could provide for himself, he didn’t see the need.

He did go and fetch his pile of belongings, however. Scavenged furs, leather straps, rope, cups, water skins, things he could use. Tins of preserved bread, a sack of dehydrated beans, and a flint he deemed serviceable were soon added.

Volker did step forward to take the knife, and examined it. “Mine are better.” He said. Oor would question the addition. He buried it point down in the rocky soil with a flick of his wrist. “I would not be able to keep it.”

The set of twenty or so knives in a leather roll strapped to his thigh were the weapons he’d been using since childbirth. They tended to be the only weapons used by his family; each ancestor had a specialization. Loyalty to one weapon made from their mothers’ bones. Knives just happened to be Volker’s.

“Do not mourn the dead. They will be dug up and eaten by wolves but their spirits have long departed.” Volker dumped the first body into the pit with very little gentility. He eyed it. “A waste. They are not yet rotten.”

Volker added the trinkets he found to the dwarf’s piles. He looked over a piece of quartz, then added it. “Rheinhard Volker. Mercenary.” He said simply. As always, a man of few words. He hefted another body up out of the rubble, gave it a cursory look and yanked an earring out. He dropped the bloody gold ring into Aldacer’s pile on the way to dump the body.

 

[Aldacer Stonegazer]

"No. Our people have a way of keeping scavengers out. Or do you think my powers only hold feet still?"

The rejected knife was taken up, wiped, and flipped over to the side. Eld Steel was an odd specimen these days, and there might be others who could study it and learn. Everyone had their peculiarities, so the refusal wasn't taken as venom. Less than polite, and lacking intellect, perhaps. But... Not rude. The man didn't seem rude. At all. Just as a raw nerve exposed too long dulls, so he seemed.

"Mourning isn't our way either. When this is done I will take store of the larders and eat the best food before it goes foul, and drink as much as I can. Celebrate the lives lost. Then I will... Well... That I don't know, but I will certainly figure out."

At the end, his voice had faltered. Not quite cracking, but a waver. Losing a family member was hard on most. An entire family could ruin anyone. But to lose an entire people and survive? That guilt was hard to register. The grief could be understood by the most cold-hearted.

As to what was next for Aldacer? Only the Gods could say.

Volker

 

[Volker]

Volker listened, as he fetched another body and dumped it in. He was happy that Aldacer wasn’t the over emotional sort. He disliked the crying and weeping, and it accomplished very little. This way of mourning he could deal with. But as he watched the dwarf, he seemed so...lost. It was understandable; he’d been suddenly cut adrift from everything he knew. Most likely his family (if he had any) would rot under the heaviest of the rubble. He had no leader. He was alone.

“Get revenge on those who have done this.” Volker said simply. “You know your task, you simply haven’t adjusted to the idea yet. You will hunt them down, and kill them. That is the only thing left to do. Then you will be at peace to die alone. It is the way of things.”

He wrapped up his loot in an old blanket, layering things carefully to make sure the shift in weight wouldn’t crush the items. “If you move quickly, they will only have half a week’s head start. But lay here and drink yourself to vomiting, and that will lengthen.” It was clear he didn’t approve of the idea of getting completely foxed while there was work to be done.

 

[Aldacer Stonegazer]

"Revenge will come... But perhaps, less celebration to hasten it is a fair proposition. Though i'm hardly a tracker. A mage for sure, and fighter as is any dwarf. We shall see."

Bending to the task, he separated items. At one point he tossed Volker a hefty wineskin of hardened leather. Claimed it was 'Mjod', a special dwarven blend of whiskey and mead. Other small things that he thought the traveler could use, or that he had no use for. The wealth of traders was considerable, but nothing sacred to reveal many secrets.

Eventually, a few weapons were put in the pile of what was obviously 'valuable and unique', most carven with runes. One, a sword, was actually belted on as if claimed. A soft hilt of blue-green leather, the scabbard the same, ladened in runes. Not even drawn, just touched and belted, as if concluded of value without examination.

"Besides travelers care of food and drink, what else do you need from the ashes?"

The question was polite, tinged thankful.

 

[Volker]

Volker snorted. “I am a tracker. It is not an easy thing to learn. It has taken many years.” He noted as they shifted through the belongings together. Volker eyed the growing body pile, and took the wine skin. Liquor he had absolutely no use for. It couldn’t even be used as an antiseptic given the sugar content. He opened it, sniffed it, and dumped the contents on the ground. He would wash it at the next river or stream he found.

“I am forbidden alcohol.” He told the dwarf by way of explanation, tucking the empty skin away. What else did he need? He looked around. “I will camp here tonight. People avoid places of destruction such as this. If you have food stores, I can cook well enough.”