Gortok
Unregistered User
(6/2/03 12:32 pm)
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Oft da Gods do take dem far (Part 2)
The sun fell low in the sky and the gates of the sprallin long house sprang up before us. Three raps against the sturdy door and the calling of a short phrase in old trollish and the gates swung open. My future lay across this threshold. I looked up toward the monolith of a huscral and followed him inside. The sound of skald songs, tales of old battle and future days, rang through out the hall and the smell of meat and ale wove together with the scent of many soldies to form a thick musk about the place. A fire roared in the great hearth, next to which I would spend many eves in my youth, and a myriad torches flicked their light into every corner. Flowers , candles, and tools of both battle and supper bedecked the stone hewn tables of the room. A chain of ebonwood larger than the other seats round the table sat vacant. The chair was like no other I had seen, bone inlays, pictographs and troll runes, told the tales of epic conquests and friends fallen. A stack of furs, kolbold high, covered the seat of the mighty chair. The arms jutut out like da claws ub dem griffons in delling land, and chains of many metals hung from them. A single rune adorned the back of the seat. The rune shown in a pale blue sheen, of a deeper and more constant blue than even the deepest seas of this land. Curved at the top, then straight the curved in the reverse fashion was the rune, a symbol unknown to me at this stage in my life. To the side of the chair rested a long thick staff, burnt black and lined with rivets of arcanium, the staff loomed imposingly.
"Dat him!" a warrior called.
" Aye, him ,look a fine lad me tink" called another.
" No Bloodt Maw, least not yet " remarked a leather clad troll near the halls end, " But him luk sturdy nuff."
The calls of welcome roared from the hall like the battle yells I have heard on Emain Macha's green feilds.I was rushed to a chair, shorter and wider than most of the other and palced to the right of the great seat.
" Three cheers for our visitor, the nephew of Bloodt Maw!" drummed a cloaked norses man, one ub de few in da humans to been seen in the gathering.
Again the host of huscrals, town folk, house workers,and servants yelled shaking the rafters. Meat and bread were heaped upon my plated and a tall horn of ale poured for me. The skald songs and drum beats resumed and the company ate and talked and often looked me up and down. The feast continued and the hour grew later. Finally a skald with a might voice stood atop on of the tables.
" Rise friends! Greet the master of the house what warmth and food you enjoy.", his voice boomed "Stand and Hail Lord Sheilkraker the Bloodt Maw!"
Now I would see this troll of legend, Kormog Sheilkraker the Bloodt maw of myth. Now I would see my uncle, the man I hoped would welcome me to his home.
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