The Tale of Tarrance

Epilogue: Tarrance's Future

Below him, the world stretched out for miles in all directions. He could see the snow-capped peaks of the mountains as they chained off to the north. To the south, the pass from Arnsax to Varonia was a flash of green through the Emperor's Spine before the mountain range continued to dominate the sky. Tyransar Mountains, Tarrance reminded himself of the dwarven name for the mountain chain, a name that dated back to before even Orros existed.

The viewing deck of Dem'Rizia had become a favourite pastime for Tarrance once he learned of its existence. On clear days he could see for miles, he could see that there was so much more to the world than he could have ever imagined. The white snow-capped peaks of the mountains dominated the vista but beyond them, peaking out between the slopes was a world that he wished to see more of.

Far off to the east, thanks to the enchanted crystal he could make out the Orros' Shield Mountains, a name that to his surprise the dwarfs were more than happy to use, on the far side of Varonia. A feat that he still couldn't quite fathom. The name, Orros' Shield, was not something a dwarf had corrected him on, unlike the Tyransar Mountains. It was a strange thing but not something he had worked up the courage to ask about quite yet.

For now, his attention moved passed those mountains further east over the plains of the Isadore Basin, his mind travelling further than even the magic of the observation room couldn't follow. As it had for weeks at this point. With a thought a marker appeared in his vision showing the general direction to the subject of his thoughts, along with the name of the hold and his distance from it etching itself into the crystal stone for him to read, yet again.

Dem'Bissa, the name was well known to him and the distance from him even more so. Tarrance thought it had been a mistake the first time he read those numbers but no, the world was that large, larger even since there was even more to see further to the east.

But it Dem'Bissa he was drawn to. The tales of its libraries and vaults crammed with knowledge and secrets were something beyond his wildest dreams and he yearned just to see them once. To walk the stone selves of the Great Bissaneaum, the greatest repository of knowledge in the whole Dwarven Empire.

He heard many a tale of the place, a wonder of the world he was told, with impenetrable vaults guarded by blue-garbed custodians. A bulwark against a thousand secrets and truths that could shatter the world. A repository of magic and inventions that were too powerful or too dangerous for the world to have for now. He had even heard a tale that the Torran's had entrusted a great secret to the custodians there.

It fascinated Tarrance and he wished to know so much more about it. Despite the tales he had heard, and all the apparent secrets locked up in the hold it was still open to all if you wished to take the journey there. He had heard that Dem'Bissa was the most isolated of all the dwarven cities, something that gave credence to all the stories he had sought out about the place, and it would take weeks of walking the dwarven roads to reach it.

Something that didn't halt the steady stream of dwarfs, halflings, elves, even humans and more making their way east toward the hold.

The number of adventuring bands that scoured the planes of the Isadore Basin that spread out around the hold was growing each day. Despite the tales of wyverns and griffins at war in the skies above them, more and more people were making the journey hoping for gold and glory.

And Tarrance had his own urge to travel with them, east to Dem'Bissan but nor for gold or glory not even to learn the secrets of the hold, or to slake his thirst for knowledge. There was something deeper, something more that drew him there, even if he couldn't put a name to them right now.

"Are you at it again?" his grandmother's voice cut into his thoughts.

He turned to find her watching him with a knowing look, Kerrie at her side. The distinct feeling of being caught misbehaving welled up within him.