Chapter Two
Meegal tossed and turned all night. He listened to the rain dance off the ground. His mind raced as his body kept pleading with him to relax. Soon the night had flown by and dawn was on the horizon. The time had come to leave. He pulled his aching body up and swung his legs over the edge of the tiny cot. He yawned while he stretched, he felt somewhat refreshed. His restless last night at home didn’t remove the tension that had built up over the last few days. It only made him feel older. He scuffed his feet as he went over to the potbelly stove. The last smoldering piece of coal had squelched itself out in the slight breeze created by Meegal walking by. He poured the last cup of gogee into his clay mug. “It’s still warm,” he thought to himself as he sipped it slowly. He picked up his knapsack and list and took inventory. He didn’t want to forget anything. “Let’s see here…Water, food, fire sticks, canvas, blanket, and…” his mind wandered off as he came to his pocket watch.
The gold watch had platinum trim. Etched on the back of the case was the name ‘Mason’, his great-great-great grandfather. Meegal’s father, Morgal, had given him the watch when he came of age, as his father had done, but Morgal died shortly after giving him the watch. A terrible fever swept through their village. Meegal’s mother, Kartrin, and he were the only survivors in his family. On his father's death bed he had told Meegal of a great destiny that he must fulfill. He told him too, that he would always be with him. Meegal stroked the watch as he daydreamed. Suddenly, almost angrily, Meegal shouted “FATHER, IS THIS THE DESTINY THAT YOU SPOKE OF?” He bowed his head as the tears welled up in his eyes. He squeezed the watch hard as he whispered, “Where are you now, when I need you most?”
He looked around the sparsely furnished cottage. His bed, stove, a little clay washbasin and pitcher, and an almost miniature table with itsy bitsy chairs. They weren’t much but they were all he had. His heart hardened as his eyes passed over the room. “It may be the last time I ever see my home,” he thought. He placed a letter on his table that read:
He took a deep breath. Then sighing loudly, he turned to leave and didn’t look back.
It had already rained for several days. Streams overflowed their banks. Meegal plodded along, the muck squooshing between his toes. The ooze kept gently tugging at his feet as if not wanting to let go.
It was twenty miles to the village of Drizzle outside of Castle Storm. The elders had named it Storm because in the Hot Season it would rain nearly every day for about a thirty-mile radius around the castle. Travel was difficult at best, but at night, it could be deadly. Even in the Hot Season, the nights grew terribly cold.
By midday, Meegal reached the top of the hill. He could see the tiny village of Drizzle in the distance. It looked so radiant, even in the rain. As he drew closer, he could see the candles in the cottage windows flickering. As Meegal looked down at them, he felt all warm inside. Most folks felt that way about Drizzle. Drizzle, such a peaceful place, love just seemed to radiate from it.
Meegal picked up his pace as he descended the hill. Before he knew it he was at the tall iron gates, and there he saw his friend Rumki.
Rumki was sitting on a small stool. His legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. His arms folded across his chest. His long white beard, which curled at the end, moved rhythmically to his loud snoring. Rumki was a gatekeeper. His father, and his father before that, back as far as they could remember had all been gatekeepers.
“Rumki!”
Rumki jerked and snorted a couple of times. “Huh, What; Oh, Meegal, sorry, didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Me either, do you know if Doogan is ready?”
“He probably is Meegal, come in.”
Rumki rose and removed an enormous key ring from his belt. It donned at least a hundred keys, but somehow Rumki grasped the right one. He turned it in the lock and the heavy iron gate opened with a long whiny creak. Rumki looked up at him. As he shook his hand, his eyes saddened. “Good luck my friend.”
The streets of Drizzle were constructed of cobblestone. Meegal thought back to when he was a little Kwaterdwarf and visited his Aunt here. The King’s masons would repair the broken or cracked stones. They would remove the bad stone, and carefully place the new ones in with ease. They worked with speed and perfection. You wouldn't have known that they were replaced if you weren’t there at that moment. Meegal always had respect for masons. Some of his ancestors had been masons, many generations before. Meegal, for the first time in weeks, had let his mind wander to a simpler time. It had felt good, but now he saw Doogan’s cottage in the distance.
He approached Doogan’s door, and softly tapped.
“Meegal, my friend, good to see you, please come in. Would you like a cup of gogee?”
“That would be nice, Doogan.”
Doogan poured the gogee into a mug and placed it in front of Meegal. “How was that blasted trip over Carmel Mountain?”
“It was not as bad as it has been in the past.”
“You made very good time getting here, all things considered.”
“Well once I saw Drizzle it was easier to move faster.”
Doogan’s wife, Tristy, rushed out from the bedroom to greet Meegal. Meegal stood as Tristy approached, and they embraced. Tristy held on a little longer and squeezed a little tighter than usual, but Meegal understood. Tristy poured herself a cup of gogee and sat down at the kitchen table with us.
“Meegal,” she spoke fondly, “I wish we could be visiting under better circumstances,” she paused; you could see by her face that she was fighting back tears. She was trying so hard to be strong for Doogan. Doogan leaned over and gently touched her face. He nodded his head silently and Tristy seemed to calm right down. We all visited for a while, reminiscing of the good old days. It felt like we could do this forever. Then Doogan said, “We must go now, Tristy”
“Doogan let me come with you. You know you will need someone with nursing skills.”
“Tristy, my love, you cannot come, you know that.”
“Doogan, please,” her voice trailed off. She looked deep into his eyes. Doogan stretched his hand out to meet hers. In taking her hand, he squeezed it gently, then they rose, and he held her tight. She knew he would not let her go with them. She was such a good Gwen, and so very strong. They took their last sips of gogee in silence, each thinking about the foreboding future.
“It is time,” Doogan said, “We still have to meet Debry.”
Meegal looked back and watched as Doogan held Tristy. His hands caressed her back. “Such a passionate love.” Meegal thought to himself. He thought how much harder this was on Doogan than it was for himself.
Meegal never had taken a wife. The King had told him long ago when he was a young dwarf that he would someday serve him in the Kwater Sentry. Ever since that time Meegal spent most of his time perfecting his gift instead of being a suitor. The King’s words bound him, and he could not let him down.
All Kwaterdwarves have certain abilities, each unique in his or her own right. Tristy, for instance, was a healer. Doogan had immense strength, that of 50 Kwaterdwarves. Meegal’s gift was the ability to protect those around him with an invisible force. It was not always effective against certain spells. If Meegal was weak it might not be quite as strong, but most always, it worked with great results.
Doogan and Meegal made small talk as they made their way through the village. At the edge of the village, they entered the Royal Courtyard.
The Royal Courtyard separated the village from Castle Storm. It occupied hundreds of acres of valley. Beautiful flowers grew in abundance. Magnificent flowering trees were scattered throughout the green foliated ones. A cobblestone path weaved it’s way through the valley to the mountainous castle. Small footpaths led off the main trail to the valley peoples homes.
When Doogan reached the right one, he turned off and soon they were at Debry’s cottage. The outside of her cottage was covered in vines. The yard was robust with plants and flowers. Small woodland creatures danced in and out of logs, as if playing a game. The most impressive thing about her home was the fragrance that swept through the air. It was indescribably beautiful. Doogan knocked on the wooden door. When Debry opened the door Meegal was so taken back with her beauty, that she took his breath away. He had never seen such a beautiful Gwen before. Her blonde hair flowed around her face. The soft features of her face entranced him. Her voice sang to his heart. It was soft and kind. He fought the feelings, and he thought to himself, “How could the King pick her? She surely isn’t the type for battle.”
“Please come in, may I get you anything?”
They both replied, “No thank you.”
After their introductions were made, Debry finalized her packing. They all went outside to the garden and watched as Debry picked some of the plants. She put them in a pouch that she wore around her neck.
“All set.” She said as she walked towards us.
She was unbelievably calm. Meegal began to sense her inner strength. The King was right. She carried herself with pride, shoulders back, and the air about her strong and determined. She walked with a little arrogance, yet she was so feminine. It was then that Meegal realized that Debry was one influential Kwaterdwarf. “The King always knew best,” he thought to himself.
They made their way back to the main trail, and started onward toward the castle. They had to meet with the King’s Sentry before going on to the Great Battle. Even though they were silent as they walked, it wasn’t long before they reached the drawbridge. Meegal waved at the sentry dwarf in the tower across the moat. He signaled back as he moved the lever on his side. Doogan went to the edge and pulled back on the huge lever. They all watched as massive gears groaned while lowering the bridge. They crossed and as they reached the end, the sentry dwarf moved the lever forward again and the bridge began to rise. The bridge moaned and groaned as it clanked into place. Once inside they saw all the dwarves busily going about their evening routines. They made their way to the sentry room. As they reached the door, they all looked at the beautiful doorknocker. It shape was that of a lion grasping a golden ring in its mouth. Doogan reached up clutched the ring and knocked it a few times on the thick door. A little round window in the door opened and a face appeared.
“Sentry dwarf Lucas at your service.”
“We have come, at the Kings request, to join you in the Great Battle. You have before you Meegal, Debry, and I am Doogan."
“We have been expecting your arrival.”
The little door closed and the big door opened to a large open room. It had many beds lined up against the walls. Each bed had its own chest at the foot of it. The only two dwarves inside were Sentry dwarf Lucas and Sentry dwarf Palmer. Each came up to greet them with a hearty handshake and a smile. They followed the Sentry dwarves down the long corridor, where closed doors lined the wall, to the meeting room where they would discuss the King’s plans.
“The King has gone for his evening meal and bath. That should leave us time to go over a few things first, to catch you up.” Sentry dwarf Lucas said as he opened the door at the very end.
“Sounds like a good idea.” Meegal replied
They gathered themselves around the table. Sentry dwarf Palmer opened the doors in the big armoire and pulled out a map. As he unrolled the map on the large table in front of his audience, it displayed the battlegrounds. He began discussing the strategy that the King had put in place. A tiny young Kwaterdwarf had entered the room with a pitcher of juice and some fresh fruit in a basket. She set the mugs down and began filling them. As she passed out the mugs, one of them slipped from her little fingers. It crashed down, spilling the juice and shattering on the floor.
“Forgiveness, forgiveness,” she uttered, as she rushed towards the broom closet.
Sentry dwarf Lucas reassured her that it was all right. The young dwarf reached the closet door and unlatched it. Stumbling backwards, her voice let out a high-pitched scream. Her hand covered her mouth, as her finger pointed into the closet. The sentry dwarves leapt up to her aid. Even they were taken off guard by what they saw inside the closet. Three strange looking creatures huddled in the corner of the closet.
The gold watch had platinum trim. Etched on the back of the case was the name ‘Mason’, his great-great-great grandfather. Meegal’s father, Morgal, had given him the watch when he came of age, as his father had done, but Morgal died shortly after giving him the watch. A terrible fever swept through their village. Meegal’s mother, Kartrin, and he were the only survivors in his family. On his father's death bed he had told Meegal of a great destiny that he must fulfill. He told him too, that he would always be with him. Meegal stroked the watch as he daydreamed. Suddenly, almost angrily, Meegal shouted “FATHER, IS THIS THE DESTINY THAT YOU SPOKE OF?” He bowed his head as the tears welled up in his eyes. He squeezed the watch hard as he whispered, “Where are you now, when I need you most?”
He looked around the sparsely furnished cottage. His bed, stove, a little clay washbasin and pitcher, and an almost miniature table with itsy bitsy chairs. They weren’t much but they were all he had. His heart hardened as his eyes passed over the room. “It may be the last time I ever see my home,” he thought. He placed a letter on his table that read:
To Whomever May Find This:
My name is Meegal. I have left for The Great Battle. You are welcome to stay if
you seek shelter. If I haven’t returned by the third moon, you may take up
permanent residence here, if you desire. You may also take possession of the
things I have left behind. No relatives will have claim to these things. This
document serves as my last will and testament.
Signed,
Meegal
He took a deep breath. Then sighing loudly, he turned to leave and didn’t look back.
It had already rained for several days. Streams overflowed their banks. Meegal plodded along, the muck squooshing between his toes. The ooze kept gently tugging at his feet as if not wanting to let go.
It was twenty miles to the village of Drizzle outside of Castle Storm. The elders had named it Storm because in the Hot Season it would rain nearly every day for about a thirty-mile radius around the castle. Travel was difficult at best, but at night, it could be deadly. Even in the Hot Season, the nights grew terribly cold.
By midday, Meegal reached the top of the hill. He could see the tiny village of Drizzle in the distance. It looked so radiant, even in the rain. As he drew closer, he could see the candles in the cottage windows flickering. As Meegal looked down at them, he felt all warm inside. Most folks felt that way about Drizzle. Drizzle, such a peaceful place, love just seemed to radiate from it.
Meegal picked up his pace as he descended the hill. Before he knew it he was at the tall iron gates, and there he saw his friend Rumki.
Rumki was sitting on a small stool. His legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. His arms folded across his chest. His long white beard, which curled at the end, moved rhythmically to his loud snoring. Rumki was a gatekeeper. His father, and his father before that, back as far as they could remember had all been gatekeepers.
“Rumki!”
Rumki jerked and snorted a couple of times. “Huh, What; Oh, Meegal, sorry, didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Me either, do you know if Doogan is ready?”
“He probably is Meegal, come in.”
Rumki rose and removed an enormous key ring from his belt. It donned at least a hundred keys, but somehow Rumki grasped the right one. He turned it in the lock and the heavy iron gate opened with a long whiny creak. Rumki looked up at him. As he shook his hand, his eyes saddened. “Good luck my friend.”
The streets of Drizzle were constructed of cobblestone. Meegal thought back to when he was a little Kwaterdwarf and visited his Aunt here. The King’s masons would repair the broken or cracked stones. They would remove the bad stone, and carefully place the new ones in with ease. They worked with speed and perfection. You wouldn't have known that they were replaced if you weren’t there at that moment. Meegal always had respect for masons. Some of his ancestors had been masons, many generations before. Meegal, for the first time in weeks, had let his mind wander to a simpler time. It had felt good, but now he saw Doogan’s cottage in the distance.
He approached Doogan’s door, and softly tapped.
“Meegal, my friend, good to see you, please come in. Would you like a cup of gogee?”
“That would be nice, Doogan.”
Doogan poured the gogee into a mug and placed it in front of Meegal. “How was that blasted trip over Carmel Mountain?”
“It was not as bad as it has been in the past.”
“You made very good time getting here, all things considered.”
“Well once I saw Drizzle it was easier to move faster.”
Doogan’s wife, Tristy, rushed out from the bedroom to greet Meegal. Meegal stood as Tristy approached, and they embraced. Tristy held on a little longer and squeezed a little tighter than usual, but Meegal understood. Tristy poured herself a cup of gogee and sat down at the kitchen table with us.
“Meegal,” she spoke fondly, “I wish we could be visiting under better circumstances,” she paused; you could see by her face that she was fighting back tears. She was trying so hard to be strong for Doogan. Doogan leaned over and gently touched her face. He nodded his head silently and Tristy seemed to calm right down. We all visited for a while, reminiscing of the good old days. It felt like we could do this forever. Then Doogan said, “We must go now, Tristy”
“Doogan let me come with you. You know you will need someone with nursing skills.”
“Tristy, my love, you cannot come, you know that.”
“Doogan, please,” her voice trailed off. She looked deep into his eyes. Doogan stretched his hand out to meet hers. In taking her hand, he squeezed it gently, then they rose, and he held her tight. She knew he would not let her go with them. She was such a good Gwen, and so very strong. They took their last sips of gogee in silence, each thinking about the foreboding future.
“It is time,” Doogan said, “We still have to meet Debry.”
Meegal looked back and watched as Doogan held Tristy. His hands caressed her back. “Such a passionate love.” Meegal thought to himself. He thought how much harder this was on Doogan than it was for himself.
Meegal never had taken a wife. The King had told him long ago when he was a young dwarf that he would someday serve him in the Kwater Sentry. Ever since that time Meegal spent most of his time perfecting his gift instead of being a suitor. The King’s words bound him, and he could not let him down.
All Kwaterdwarves have certain abilities, each unique in his or her own right. Tristy, for instance, was a healer. Doogan had immense strength, that of 50 Kwaterdwarves. Meegal’s gift was the ability to protect those around him with an invisible force. It was not always effective against certain spells. If Meegal was weak it might not be quite as strong, but most always, it worked with great results.
Doogan and Meegal made small talk as they made their way through the village. At the edge of the village, they entered the Royal Courtyard.
The Royal Courtyard separated the village from Castle Storm. It occupied hundreds of acres of valley. Beautiful flowers grew in abundance. Magnificent flowering trees were scattered throughout the green foliated ones. A cobblestone path weaved it’s way through the valley to the mountainous castle. Small footpaths led off the main trail to the valley peoples homes.
When Doogan reached the right one, he turned off and soon they were at Debry’s cottage. The outside of her cottage was covered in vines. The yard was robust with plants and flowers. Small woodland creatures danced in and out of logs, as if playing a game. The most impressive thing about her home was the fragrance that swept through the air. It was indescribably beautiful. Doogan knocked on the wooden door. When Debry opened the door Meegal was so taken back with her beauty, that she took his breath away. He had never seen such a beautiful Gwen before. Her blonde hair flowed around her face. The soft features of her face entranced him. Her voice sang to his heart. It was soft and kind. He fought the feelings, and he thought to himself, “How could the King pick her? She surely isn’t the type for battle.”
“Please come in, may I get you anything?”
They both replied, “No thank you.”
After their introductions were made, Debry finalized her packing. They all went outside to the garden and watched as Debry picked some of the plants. She put them in a pouch that she wore around her neck.
“All set.” She said as she walked towards us.
She was unbelievably calm. Meegal began to sense her inner strength. The King was right. She carried herself with pride, shoulders back, and the air about her strong and determined. She walked with a little arrogance, yet she was so feminine. It was then that Meegal realized that Debry was one influential Kwaterdwarf. “The King always knew best,” he thought to himself.
They made their way back to the main trail, and started onward toward the castle. They had to meet with the King’s Sentry before going on to the Great Battle. Even though they were silent as they walked, it wasn’t long before they reached the drawbridge. Meegal waved at the sentry dwarf in the tower across the moat. He signaled back as he moved the lever on his side. Doogan went to the edge and pulled back on the huge lever. They all watched as massive gears groaned while lowering the bridge. They crossed and as they reached the end, the sentry dwarf moved the lever forward again and the bridge began to rise. The bridge moaned and groaned as it clanked into place. Once inside they saw all the dwarves busily going about their evening routines. They made their way to the sentry room. As they reached the door, they all looked at the beautiful doorknocker. It shape was that of a lion grasping a golden ring in its mouth. Doogan reached up clutched the ring and knocked it a few times on the thick door. A little round window in the door opened and a face appeared.
“Sentry dwarf Lucas at your service.”
“We have come, at the Kings request, to join you in the Great Battle. You have before you Meegal, Debry, and I am Doogan."
“We have been expecting your arrival.”
The little door closed and the big door opened to a large open room. It had many beds lined up against the walls. Each bed had its own chest at the foot of it. The only two dwarves inside were Sentry dwarf Lucas and Sentry dwarf Palmer. Each came up to greet them with a hearty handshake and a smile. They followed the Sentry dwarves down the long corridor, where closed doors lined the wall, to the meeting room where they would discuss the King’s plans.
“The King has gone for his evening meal and bath. That should leave us time to go over a few things first, to catch you up.” Sentry dwarf Lucas said as he opened the door at the very end.
“Sounds like a good idea.” Meegal replied
They gathered themselves around the table. Sentry dwarf Palmer opened the doors in the big armoire and pulled out a map. As he unrolled the map on the large table in front of his audience, it displayed the battlegrounds. He began discussing the strategy that the King had put in place. A tiny young Kwaterdwarf had entered the room with a pitcher of juice and some fresh fruit in a basket. She set the mugs down and began filling them. As she passed out the mugs, one of them slipped from her little fingers. It crashed down, spilling the juice and shattering on the floor.
“Forgiveness, forgiveness,” she uttered, as she rushed towards the broom closet.
Sentry dwarf Lucas reassured her that it was all right. The young dwarf reached the closet door and unlatched it. Stumbling backwards, her voice let out a high-pitched scream. Her hand covered her mouth, as her finger pointed into the closet. The sentry dwarves leapt up to her aid. Even they were taken off guard by what they saw inside the closet. Three strange looking creatures huddled in the corner of the closet.
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