95 - "Sending a Message" - Granthurg - A Tale of Heroes

Late in the day, the hot summer sun finally drooped down behind the horizon, sending reds and purples across the bottoms of the few high clouds in the sky over Dirae. The last of the street vendors along the waterfront busied themselves gathering up their wares, and the glow of lantern light started to shine in the windows of the pubs and inns along the street. The few trade barges that were there at the docks that day were being tied securely in place.

Granthurg sat at a public table by the piers along the waterfront, just above his own barge. They had been built and set there by the town for the convenience of the river runners. These were the ones that drove the trade barges up and down the Wynne River, from the elvish lands in the northwestern forests and swamps, through the city of Twynne Rivers, and on to Portstown on the eastern coast. The southern fork of the Wynne, or the Lesser Wynne, also came from the west, but further south, out of the mountains.

His thoughts drifted along the river. I miss Graemalan. My city. I need to go back. I need to see my family, my home.

The Graemal mountains were high, sharp, and rocky. Granthurg pictured them in his mind. The sight of them is probably what inspired the name. It meant "Dragon's Teeth" in a more ancient version of the Giantish language. Many times, as he and Rinkmorr rode the waters of the Lesser Wynne upriver toward them, he would see the peaks rise up over the hills and meadows of the landscape.

Rinkmorr. My boss, my friend, my bond-brother. Where are you? What's happened to you?

Granthurg looked down at the table before him. It was small and uncomfortable. It would probably have been fine for a human, but it was a bit clumsy for a giant. It had been built by humans, to be used by the river runners, who were mostly giants, like Granthurg and Rinkmorr. He smiled as he thought about it. Humans don't always think things through that way.

Granthurg wasn't that tall, for a giant, only a bit over eight feet. He was bald with light brown skin, a bearded smile, broad shoulders, and a bit of a belly, which didn't fit very well against the table.

The magical oculus gem on a tall post above him began to glow in the encroaching twilight, shining down over the street and the table. On the table before him rested a single sheaf of paper, unrolled. Next to that, Granthurg unrolled a leather pouch with his writing supplies.

With a breath, he twisted open the tight cork lid of the ink jar and set it aside, picking up the reed pen. He dipped it and wrote.

Rinkmorr,

Greetings. I hope this letter finds you well.

I am also well, if a bit confused. The last time we spoke, you were quite worried about something and told me to take the barge west, along the northern Wynne. You told me that you would meet up with me. You were a bit rushed at the time, and I was a more than a bit baffled, so I didn't have the presence of mind to set a meeting date or place.

I've been waiting for you upriver in Dirae for over a month, now, and have not seen any sign of you coming this way. I've asked a few of the rivermen that have come from Twynne Rivers if they've seen you, and none of them have, or they didn't know you.

I fear for your safety. At the time of our departure, you said that there was something that someone wanted. I'll not talk about that in detail, since I've learned that there are people willing to kill for it and I don't want to put you in any further danger. At least, no more than you're possibly already facing.

Dirae is, for the moment, peaceful. I would encourage you to make your way here and rest. We can come together to decide what you would like to do next.

Your friend and help,

Granthurg.

He let the ink dry for a moment, then rolled the paper into a thin scroll, pressing it flat. On it, he wrote: Rinkmorr, Riverman, The Old Steersman Inn, the WaterFront Quarter. He slipped the letter into a folded leather cover and tied the binding cords tight.

He stood and carried it down the pier.

Granthurg called out to one of the other giants on a barge. "Hey, friend. You said earlier that you were traveling to Twynne Rivers. Do you do courier work?"

"I do, for a silver shard."

Granturg stepped forward and handed him the pouch and a half-coin. "Here you go. Thanks."

96 - "An Old Friend" - Granthurg - A Tale of Heroes

Granthurg stepped off the pier and onto the barge. This was the boat he knew, that had been his home for so many seasons, so many years. He and Rinkmorr had driven it up and back, east and west, all along the two Wynne rivers. Granthurg had loaded crates, bags, and barrels, only to unload them and sell them in the next town along the river. He could say it was his barge, but he didn't dare call it his own.

The sun had set, and the only light shone from the one forward oculus gem hanging from a pole on the bow. The river gave off a familiar musty smell that he only noticed when he thought about it, or, like tonight, when he hadn't been to the waterfront in a while.

He slowly walked along the side railing, running his hand across the smooth and weathered wood. It was not a new barge, by any means, but it was still sturdy. Its timbers creaked as the river water rocked it gently in its sleep by the pier.

He had done some work on it since it had been berthed there at Dirae. He had cleaned up all of the broken and scattered crates and cargo, after someone had tossed through it all, looking for the dragon dagger. The few boxes remaining were now neatly secured under new tarps, awaiting a chance to be sold in another town.

Another town? Where will I be going? Thissraelle said she wants to go further west, to get to Emberfire. She doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry to leave the monastery, though.

His hand felt a change in the railing as he moved sternward. He paused, feeling the difference between old and new wood. This was a section of the railing that Granthurg had replaced after the fight at Twynne Rivers, when the men came looking for Rinkmoor. That was the last time he had seen his boss.

I had just barely met DeFrantis and Antonerri. Then, suddenly, we were all swept away into trying to find the children. He chuckled to himself. It's odd how things change.

He stepped up onto the steering platform and looked back over the barge. He didn't want to think about what might have happened to Rinkmorr, but it was strange looking at the barge and thinking that it might not see his friend and boss again. He shook that possibility out of his mind.

It's odd how things change.

He knelt down and unlocked the hatch on the floor at the back of the platform. He lifted up the small hinged plank and peered into the shadows below. In the dim light, he could barely make out what he knew was there, what he had seen dozens of times. It was a green and brown gem of finely polished jade, just a little smaller than his fist. It was braced in place over the water by a crosspiece of wood and held there by a band of iron, bolted to the boards.

Alright, let's see if I can do this.

97 - "Making the Magic Work" - Granthurg - A Tale of Heroes

Granthurg leaned forward on his knees, over the gem set into the stern of the barge. Rinkmorr used to make this work. For him, it was so easy. I always wanted to know how, but he never wanted to tell me.

He remembered Thissraelle explaining how magic worked, and how the Oculi Creator, the "Eyes of the Creator", helped. She had been teaching Karendle and not getting very far. Granthurg had seen them and listened in.

Thissraelle had said, "Magic is all around us. Most people know that it exists, but have no idea where to find it or how to access it. But it's there, all the time. Wizards and mages learn how to use the force of their own will to draw out the power and use it. If you focus and concentrate, you can make it do almost anything."

"Anything?" Karendle had asked, more than a bit incredulous. She was taller than most dwarves, favoring her human mother, but still stocky and muscular. Her hair was long, thick, and auburn, kept braided over her right shoulder. Her face was a bit more square than Thissraelle's thin and dainty look. Thissraelle was just as tall, which was about normal for a younger high elven woman, with long, flowing white hair.

"Yes, well, some things are harder than others, and they require more will. Once you use up your will, you're done with magic until you rest up and replenish. The more a wizard grows and learns, the deeper their will grows, too, so they can do more and more."

Granthurg had stepped in. "When we first met, you talked about different kinds of magic, but I didn't really understand it then..."

"Yes, there are six different powers. Usually, a mage will study one, or at most, two. I can do a little bit in three of them right now. The power of light is my personal favorite." As she spoke, she'd held out her hand and a brightly glowing ball of light formed in her upturned palm. Karendle averted her eyes from the brightness, but wanted to stare into it. "I mostly use it to heal and to bless, but it can be used in a fight, too. It's what Antonerri used to light up his sword as we were battling in the manor house last month." She had flicked her wrist and the light was gone.

Granthurg had asked about the other powers, and she had explained them all. She said that she had used her mental powers when they had fought the slavers outside the market. That's how she had levitated herself into the fight, and the powers of her mind had thrown her opponents down. That power was also, she had explained, how she had found DeFrantis and Karendle, when they had been captured and reached out to her. Then, she had used her dimensional power to open a portal so they could step into the fight and join in.

She had also explained that Eddiwarth had used striking power to start the fire in the manor and that it was also how the evil slaver mage had attacked Antonerri so fiercely. DeFrantis, she had said, knew how to use shadow power, and had used the darkness' influence over life and death to heal Karendle when she was dying on the floor of the slave market.

"Eventually, I want to learn them all." Thissraelle had said, "I know the least about natural powers- that allows you to shape and use the things of nature around you, like water, trees, life, stone, air..."

It clicked for Granthurg. "That's how Rinkmorr healed me- and how he drove the barge!"

"Yes. And the oculus gem in the back of the barge serves as a focus, as a boost of his own will."

"That's what I need to learn!" Granthurg had said, "Can you teach me that?"

Now he knelt over the hatch in the platform, looking down at the stone and remembering her instructions. He took a deep breath, sighed and held his hand out over it. Thissraelle had said that a posture like that can sometimes help your concentration.

Granthurg closed his eyes, and let his consciousness sink deep. His mind focused on the stone. He wanted it to work, to make the water move beneath the barge. He wanted it to move the barge. He wanted it to...

Nothing was happening. He opened his eyes and looked down past the oculus into the water below. The water flowed with the normal run of the river under the docks.

He repositioned himself, closed his eyes again, and focused, seeing his own will. Thissraelle had said to find that first, then to flow it through the stone.

He suddenly felt a sharp warmth inside him, as an awakening, or a brightness. That's it! That must be it!

He directed that feeling out of his chest, through his arm, and down at the stone. He could feel it course through him. Opening his eyes, he saw nothing different. His arm was tingling with the warmth, but it looked the same.

Then he heard the churning of the water below the barge and felt the barge move underneath him. It jerked toward the stern, then yanked the tether lines taught, jarring Granthurg off his knees and almost toppling him into the water.

He laughed out loud! "By the Creator, it worked! It worked!"

He leaned over the stern of the barge and could see the water splashing as the magic moved it, and tried to move the barge. A nervous thought crossed his mind. Now how do I stop it?