The Dwarven Sorcerer

The Dwarven Sorcerer ch 11

The cold beer warmed Thrack's bowels, burning away the magical curse he knew to be inside of him. Ula brought over another tray of drinks for the table and smiled at Thrack as she placed a soft warm hand on his shoulder. Bofac gave his friend a knowing smile and chuckled.

Ula hit Bofac in the arm "behave," she said. They drank their ales and enjoyed each other's company. It was a nice quiet evening, The Miner's Crack was less than half full with the majority of the dwarves sitting by themselves.

"So, when are you going on your hunting trip?" asked Bofac.

"Dunno," said Thrack. "Ain't in no hurry. We was gonna go next week, but mum's worried about the inquisition and all. Like, maybe them bastards will try to stop us at the gates or something."

Bofac nodded in understanding.

"That ain't right," snapped Grundi. "Just because some bastard does some gods-damned stupid thing don't mean the rest of us have to suffer." He shook his head. "Ain't right if you ask me. Why do the rest of have to pay because some asshole learns some forbidden shit from some other asshole? Nope," Grundi sat back in his chair and took a deep drink of his ale, "ain't right is all."

Thrack had to admit that his friend had a point. He wanted to go on the trip and was ready to go anytime, but the biggest problem was his own curse. What if the inquisition had guards at the exits and had a way of detecting someone like him. Who was he though? He was still Thrack, a digger and a Thenge. Was he any different than before? No! But at the same time, yes. He had something inside of him that wasn't there before; it changed him somehow. Either way, he wasn't about to risk going through the gates, not the way he was.

He rubbed the lightning-shaped scar on his head, it didn't hurt or nothing, just itched sometimes; besides, he liked the way it looked; it made him feel like he was blessed by Donner. Sometimes he wished the one on his cheek was bigger and not so hidden by his beard, dwarves liked to show off their scars. "Reckon there are anymore them wizards?" Asked Thrack.

Bofac looked at him. "Eh? What do you mean?"

"Like, anymore in the kingdom."

"Maybe," said Grundi. "Can't have just one I reckon. Someone had to have taught the bastard."

"Yeah, but more than that I mean. Like, are there a lot of wizards running around you reckon?"

"Doubt it," said Bofac. "Can't hide from the inquisition, it's impossible. Heard they got ways of detecting magic; with runes or something."

"Nah, that ain't true. If that were so, how did Gorn hide this long? It weren't 'til he, you know, that they found him," said Grundi.

His friends agreed. Maybe the inquisition wasn't as powerful and all-knowing as they were led to believe. Thrack felt a glimmer of hope touch him for the briefest of moments. He took another drink and sat back in his chair. Something wasn't sitting right though; everyone knew that wizards had to learn their magic. Gorn couldn't have learned that shit on his own, someone had to have taught him, but if that was the case how did I get my magic? Thrack didn't learn it from nobody; no one taught him and he didn't read no bloody books on it neither. He felt another shutter threatening to overtake him; he fought it down with all his will.

It was too much for him, Thrack had had enough for the night. He downed his drink, let out a loud belch, and stood.

"That's it for me b'ys," he said.

His friends grunted their goodbyes and continued to drink.

He said goodbye to Ula, kissing her on the cheek and headed home. The power overtook him every night now, he had to release it. It built up all day and Thrack knew that if he didn't let it out once in a while, he would lose control of it. He let out the shudder he was repressing and grunted in the pain of pleasure as the magic and his body fought for dominance.