A Game of Chi Book III: A Sword of Dust

Chapter 4: Gorzan I

GORZAN

The temperature was well below what Gorzan was comfortable with. Having spent his early life in the Sanctuary Forest, where the warm, temperate climate had suited him, and then living with Crokenburg in the hot and humid Swamplands, Gorzan was incredibly uncomfortable in the rapidly dropping temperatures of the north. His vessel, the Command Ship, had just just arrived at Black Harbour; despite the fact that it was still a ways south of the border with the Northerlands, Gorzan was still feeling a bit chilly. "Remember," he declared to the crocodiles in front of him, "we're just here to get some food. That's all. We aren't to meddle with the Raven Tribe in any way. Be back in an hour, or you'll be left behind." The crocodiles grunted their approval and set down anchor in the port before disembarking and walking towards the city itself. Even though Crokenburg's metal jaw had been somewhat reattached, it was nowhere near as excellent as Cranvil's work. Now, the Steeljaw spoke only when necessary; Gorzan had become his mouthpiece more than anything. He barely listens to my advice anymore, he mused, watching the crocodiles walk around. After we lost the battle of the Crocfort, he's dead set on revenge. The old Crokenburg wasn't trying to claim the throne out of greed or vengeance, but because he truly believed that he was right. But now, it's much more personal than that.

Through his years as Crokenburg's second-in-command, Gorzan had seen that while he seemed cold and harsh on the exterior, Crokenburg possessed a fair heart. His callous nature was simply his demeanour; the Steeljaw was never mean-spirited or cruel. Now, however, Gorzan barely recognized the glimmer of justice which had attracted him so in his master's eyes. Now, they were just as cold and harsh as his attitude. Gorzan turned to Crokenburg, who was standing beside him, staring south. He's no doubt thinking of home, Gorzan thought. The Crocfort, Firestone and the Citadel are no longer havens for us to return to. That's why we're here, searching for the last potential allies in our fight. "Your Grace," he began, turning to the Steeljaw, "I'm going to head into Black Harbour as well. Do you want to come with me?" Crokenburg shook his head. "Very well. Shall I bring something back for you?" Again, the Steeljaw refused, so Gorzan nodded politely and walked down the ramp connecting the ship to the docks. A group of crocodiles, among them the wiry Crux and the beige Craven, waved to him as he approached. "The king isn't coming?" Craven asked. "I'm afraid not," Gorzan replied, "and don't call him that or mention his name here. The Raven Tribe has publicly sided with Crooler, meaning that if they know that we serve Chima's rightful ruler, they may attack us. We're lucky that we have the same symbol as Crooler does, or our ship would have been attacked before we could dock." The crocodiles nodded in understanding and made their way through the city. They could easily see the huge structure that was the Black Bank not too far from them; unlike the other raven-built structures, it had a sloped roof and multiple pillars holding up its walls. As its name suggested, the Black Bank was made mostly of black bricks, but there were flecks of gold spread throughout. The words Gold and Glory were written with golden letters just over the entrance, and ravens could be seen flying in and out of the building. While they walked, Gorzan thought back to his relatively one-sided conversation with Crokenburg a few days earlier.

"Your Grace, I know that my unsound advice led us to remain in the Crocfort, but I really think this is a mistake!" he had exclaimed. In Crokenburg's cabin, the Steeljaw was seated at his table, staring intently at Gorzan. "The Pack never gets involved with the political squabbles of Chima, and even if they did, there aren't enough of them to make a difference against Crooler's army!"

"Regardless," the Steeljaw began, "it is their duty to take up arms against an illegitimate ruler," Crokenburg said, his voice still strained and lispy due to the subpar jaw attachment. "The Pack may usually remain neutral, but they're still a part of Chima like the rest of us." Gorzan sighed in frustration and shook his head. "And what will they ask for in return? Will it be worth the help of a few dozen wolves who have never left the Northerlands in their lives?"