(Draft 1) A Twist of Steel

Chapter 4

"Are you ready, Your Grace?" Korin didn't bother turning around, he knew who it was.

"I'm not your grace yet, Daric." The rustic, scarred face of Daric Gorseborn grinned through missing teeth. They were in the Crown prince's chambers, Korin's chambers. Both of them were Baradon, shorter in stature and gifted with double the lifetimes of men. They were the native species of Torgain, or as it is sometimes known, Dontos's Tundra.

"Not long to go, my prince." he replied.

Korin smiled through his scraggly beard but made no move to turn away. The view from his terrace looked all the way down his mountain home, layers upon layers of bridges, buildings, tunnels, doorways and statues snaked down the outside of the mountain. The sunlight of dawn flashed on the acres of snowy ground and sparkled on the smooth stone structures, it was beautiful and it was his.

"My prince? They await inside. We have been waiting so long, being late for your coronation would be cruel irony indeed."

"Very well." Korin turned and allowed the long, shaggy bear cloak to be clasped around his shoulders. He gingerly lifted the shield of his forefathers from its hook in the centre of his chambers and allowed a quick sip from a chalice left out the night before. A little wine to calm the nerves was no bad thing. Daric stood tensely by the door, unlike Korin's calm demeanour, Daric felt skittish, everything was going by in a beautiful blur.

"Come on then Daric, let us go."

"Sorry my prince, I was just observing the crown prince's chambers, it's a shame they'll be the king's before the night is done." Daric answered.

Korin just nodded, he would be sentimental later, now he must be a king. The iron doors slid open and Korin was instantly greeted by the guards snapping to attention, "Your grace." they spoke instantaneously. They fell in behind Korin's long brown coat and Daric's embroidered, crimson one, with more guards joining in behind them as they continued. After crossing several bridges and corridors, the procession of guards behind them had exceeded two hundred. They finally came to a long, silver coated bridge engraved with runes far beyond the current Baradons understanding. At the end were two enormous doors, gilded with gold and bedecked with hundreds of jewels, "Shall we?" Daric asked looking at Korin.

"Let it begin." He answered and he pounded the end of his shield on the ground. The doors creaked open, operated by technology and magic long forgotten. Then a tumultuous crescendo of noise erupted from inside, thousands upon thousands of Baradon cheered and hollered as Korin entered the hall. And what a hall it was, a hundred chandeliers stretched from the ceiling and rows and rows of benches were wound around the room providing places for three thousand. The walk across the hall was slow but it was worth it, they chanted his name as he steadily walked up the steps, then all noise stopped. "Korin son of Warak of house Iron-Axe, do you accept to guide the people of Vakar be it into peace, salvation or war?" Asked a crooked old Baradon stooped with age but blessed with a thunderous voice. "I do." Korin answered, his head held high.

"Do you accept to rule and care for every smith, warrior, wife or child in Torgain?"

"I do."

"And do you accept the Throne of Silver granted to us by the great Vakar?"

"I do."

"Then I grant you the crown of our forefathers, in hope it may be used justly and as an instrument of benefit for Torgain." The old Baradon lifted a circlet of gold embedded with rubies and placed it on Korin's head. "And I grant you the shadow axe, in hope it may be used as an instrument of destruction for our enemies and of protection for our friends." He raised a jet-black axe, the haft and the head were etched with ancient images and letters.