A Future Hope
since the Battle of Galium. Everyone pitched in on the city’s cleanup efforts. The elves organized the final rites for all the fallen. The orcs’ large frames were particularly helpful in moving rubble. The dwarves quickly began stonecrafting to rebuild what had been lost. The Griffin Guard aided in corralling prisoners then helped the peoples of Galium get back to their homes or find new ones if theirs had been lost to dragon fire.
None could remember a time in their history books when all the peoples of Tarrine had worked together in such a way. The common cause of helping their neighbors inspired them, and through the days of working and intermingling, many formed new and unlikely friendships.
King Thygram Markensteel prepared a grand feast for the gathered peoples. The banquet hall of Galium was filled end to end with orc and elf and man and dwarf. Tables lined the length, with every square inch covered in amazing food that halflings and dwarves had prepared.
Tobin and Lenor had returned with Button and many of the other families that had fled to Crossdin for safety. Since Tobin had brought Orin and his companions to the castle, he and Lenor were invited to the great feast. Tobin piled food into his mouth and spoke almost unintelligibly between bites.
Lotmeag listened graciously to his brother-in-law as he played with his favorite niece. The garvawk warrior had a renewed perspective on life after losing so many of his compatriots and found the halfling’s ramblings less annoying than before. He knew that even with his faults, the halfling loved him as a brother. He was happy to have loved ones. Though he’d lost many friends in the battle, he did not want to waste their sacrifice by wallowing in self-pity. That wouldn’t do. He wanted to celebrate their entry into Kerathane and live the life he still had, enjoying the ones he loved.
General merriment filled the buzzing banquet hall. Despite their vast differences, the peoples gathered had one thing in common: they were warriors. And warriors know how to talk to warriors. There was laughing and joking. Some taught others games, while others discussed the beauty of their homes.
At the front of the banquet hall, leaders from the different groups spoke with ease.
Argus, Lanryn, and Deklahn huddled together while Smarlo, Ralowyn, and Ezel listened with great interest. The mages were excited to all be together for the first time. Before long, Argus produced from his blue robes another Shell of Callencia and handed it to Smarlo.
“This will allow you to speak with us as well,” he said excitedly. “Think of all the mysteries we can uncover. All of us working together!”
Thygram, Pernden, and Karnak discussed the pressing needs in Drelek and Whitestone. As much as they would like to continue enjoying the generous hospitality of Galium’s king, Ruk and Whitestone had been through their own battles and required their attention and presence.
Both needed to establish new kings. Though Garron had survived, the people of Whitestone would never trust him again. Whatever Jaernok Tur had done to the king had damaged him greatly. Pernden would have to take over the throne in the guardian city. Though he was not fond of the notion.
Nera reminded Pernden, much to his chagrin, they would have a coronation for him in Whitestone soon. Of course, everyone at the table was invited.
Karnak promised he would make it to Whitestone for the coronation if Pernden did not think it too raw for the people to see an orc in the city after the ordeal they had endured.
“We sit together. We eat together. We speak together,” Pernden pointed out. “Seems to me our peoples have had some false illusions of each other’s qualities. It will be a sign to all that we embark on a new path.”
“A future hope,” Karnak put in.
“To a future hope!” the mages at the end of the table echoed joyfully, raising their mugs high. They were obviously having fun in one another’s company.
Karnak shook his head at the mages’ humorous display before turning back to Pernden. “It would be an honor.”
The large orc looked across the table at Merrick, who had an approving look on his face.
“I wonder if I might be able to join you back to Drelek?” Merrick asked.
His question caught the attention of the women flanking him.
“Merrick, I ... I just got you back ...” Ellaria said with worry in her eyes.
“Gar Karnak and I have had time to speak before this. He tells me of the beauty of the city of Calrok by the sea. I should greatly like to see it.”
“And I should like to join him, if the gar permits,” Ralowyn nodded to Karnak.
“Then I should like to show you both,” he smiled around his tusks. He assured Ellaria, “And fear not. I will bring him back to you in Whitestone for the coronation celebration.”
Coal and Orin watched and listened, each happy just to be at the table. It had been a long journey, one with many twists and turns. Embarking on a future hope that saw all the peoples of Tarrine coming together would have no shortage of adventure. They looked forward to it.
Orin realized that in all the preparations and everything that had happened, he hadn’t asked Coal about his clan in Kalimandir.
“So, clan prince, huh?” the guardian whispered to him.
“Ah! I don’t want to talk about that. This is a celebration,” the dwarf deflected.
“Alright,” Orin nodded suspiciously. “But you will tell me at some point. I should very much like to hear that tale.”
“Bah,” Coal waved the man away.
King Thygram Markensteel climbed atop the table in front of the assembly and clanged his gauntlets together. Everyone paused their side conversations to give the dwarf king their attention.
“The merriment of this evening brings great joy to me grieving heart!” He yelled so all in the banquet hall could hear. “To see so many peoples gathered in one place is a sight unseen. Surely, this is a mark in history, where the peoples gather for a future hope.
“And I see that hope in ye. Look around! Elf sitting and laughing with orc-kin. And dwarf and man. Halfling and even our very own deep gnome,” he nodded to Ezel. The gnome’s eyes brimmed with tears, overwhelmed by the mention.
“We have lost much,” Thygram went on. “But our loss is to their gain. Surely the fallen share a feast in the halls of Kerathane, celebrating our victory with us.”
Quiet agreements resonated throughout the great banquet hall. A mixture of loss and pride in their fallen comrades rolled through all present.
“This is not the end of this triumph; it is only the beginning. That future hope is now. We will not let the spark that burst into flame here go out. The peoples of Tarrine will write a new history, starting from this point. The Battle of Galium will never be forgotten. It is truly the day we battled for the heart of Tarrine and will always be remembered as the day a new sun dawned.
“In memorial of this mark in history, we will paint the ceiling of this great hall with a mural that includes all the peoples that were part of this victory. But again, this is not the end—only the beginning.
“I encourage ye; drink, eat, and enjoy each other’s company. Make friends and send pigeons and ravens to each other. Make future plans with one another. This is how we build our future: together!”
An unusual chilly fog hung over the next morning. The guardians of the Talon Squadron and the orcs of the Scar Squadron talked easily as they prepared to set off for their homes. They utilized the last moments together to joke and have more fun.
Up in one of Galium’s towers, Argus, Lanryn, Deklahn, and Smarlo waited until the last possible moment to part. They had been up the whole night discussing different magics and learning from one another. They discussed, too, some of the more concerning matters. Lanryn told them of the foreboding warning of Seer Zelor in Loralith. Argus scrunched his face at the words but did not give away his initial thoughts.
“Does the elven witch think something else is coming?” Deklahn asked.
“She’s not a witch. She’s the current Seer of Loralith, a position of great tradition,” Lanryn corrected the orc.
Deklahn looked at Smarlo. She sounded like a witch to them, but they weren’t elves, so what did they know?
“It would be wise for us to be on guard,” Argus cut in. “The Alkhoren Mirrors allowed Jaernok Tur to escape. And he was not found in Ruk or Whitestone. We should be very cautious with the artifacts. We don’t know how many there might be.”
The graveness in his tone put a damper on the attitudes of the gathered mages. They had enjoyed their time with one another and were optimistic about what they would be able to accomplish together in the years to come. The thought of something coming against that put them in a foul mood.
“We mustn’t get down, my friends,” the dwarf encouraged them. “We do not know what tomorrow will bring. But as far as it is up to us, we will live peaceably with one another. And we will be of one accord. Should something come against one of us, the others will rise to answer!”
His words raised their moods again, and they talked excitedly as they left the room. They made their way down the stairs and out to the stables where Smarlo and Deklahn needed to saddle their wyverns.
Argus and Lanryn offered their heartfelt goodbyes to the pair of orcs and walked back into the castle.
“I had hoped the Riders and I could stay until it was time to travel to Whitestone for the coronation of young Pernden,” Lanryn said to the old dwarf.
“I would be glad to host you a little longer. In fact ...” Argus’s thoughts trailed off, and then he continued. “I could very much use your help.”
“With what?” The elf mage asked curiously.
“A wizard artifact.”
“A wizard artifact?” he repeated.
“Yes, one given to our gnomish friend by a wizard.”
“Ezel? I find him quite the curious creature.”
“Yes ... very strange to see a grey gnome on the surface. I am intrigued by the magic he bears. It is of a source I do not understand. And strangest of all, he carries the trinket of a wizard,” Argus mused.
“Did he say the wizard’s name?”
“Ellaria said the wizard’s name was Enkeli,” Argus shared.
“Really?” Lanryn asked quietly.
“Do you know of him?” Argus asked. He thought it good Lanryn was staying, so he could employ the mage’s help.
“I have read the name in ancient scrolls,” Lanryn said, his face contorting as he searched his memory. “I think, though, we may need to spend some time with our gnomish friend.”
“I think that might be wise, indeed.”