The Dwarven Sorcerer

The dwarven Sorcerer Ch 15

Thrack pulled the leather straps tightly, securing his armour around his body. Its familiar weight did nothing to ease his strained nerves. The small hardened scales jingled as he buckled each of the leather straps that held the protective metal in place. His boots were heavy, made of thick leather with dwarven-steel bands bolted in place.

Sweat formed on his brow and he felt his heart pounded hard in his chest. He had to concentrate to keep from breathing too heavily.

Thrack had learned to control his magic, for a little while at least. The problem was that he needed to release it every day in order to keep it under control otherwise it might burst from him in public, and then what? He dies, that's what; his parents are exiled, that's what. The magic seemed to have a mind of its own. It would become uncontrollable when his emotions grew too strong; anger, fear, and even lust could weaken the small amount of control he had. It was as if the magic was alive, a parasite that wanted to protect the host body. It interpreted the strong emotions as a sign of immediate danger and would rise to the surface to protect him, his body would fight back and he would shudder painfully as the battle raged inside of him.

It was too much for him to think about right now.

He picked up his short-handed war hammer and spun it in his hand. He found some comfort in the weight of it, he also felt an immense amount of pride knowing that few others had the strength to wield such a heavy weapon. He felt like Donner when he fought and often felt like he was watching over him. If he had the strength to fight the creatures that invaded his city then he had the strength to control himself.

Thrack placed his hammer on the floor in front of himself and knelt, resting his hands on the pommel. Bowing his head, he gave a brief prayer to Donner and to Wodin to watch over him in the upcoming fight, not for protection but to keep his power under control. He picked his half-helm, its large horns jutting out of its peaked top and carried it under his arm. He kissed his mom and dad before leaving the house.

He stepped outside into the caves and shuddered.

. . .

The Thenges formed up behind the Anvil, the rows of warriors were restless to start the fight. Thrack adjusted his positioning so he wasn't too close to the fighters on either side of him. All around him, Thenges moved with excited energy, looking forward to the battle, wanting to fight the enemy. Thrack fought to keep his fear under control. He wasn't afraid of the enemy; like all dwarves, Thrack didn't fear dying in battle, it was a great honour and he would awake in the halls of Valholl with all his ancestors. It wasn't death that frightened him.

Thrack repressed a shudder.

In the distance, the sounds of battle could already be heard. The clang of metal on metal, the crunch of bones, the roars of men and dwarves, and the cries of the dying echoed through the ancient stone halls

Nothing happened for some time, the dwarven warriors waited in the dark listening to the sounds of distant battle continuing to fill the caverns but not move any closer. The warriors grew restless as the battle stayed beyond their grasps, beyond their vision. No one knew what was happening and it was driving them mad.

The captain slammed a fist into his open hand. "That's fucking it," he growled. "If battle won't come to us then we can bloody well go to the battle. Let's move it, the halls of Vallhol are waiting and Wodin has a place at his table for every one of us."

They cheered, raising their weapons above their heads and charged down the tunnels, roaring their battle cries. Armour clanging loudly as they ran.

The Huskarls were already engaged in battle, holding strong against the larger foes. Northern barbarians often raided the dwarven caves in search of treasure and glory. They were of no real threat to the rest of the city, they weren't invaders, they were a menace that had to be stopped. The Thenges repositioned themselves behind the Anvil as the fighting began in earnest.