The Prophecy

The Undergrounds of Kahr-O-Tirr | A delicate decision

It was a huge man, dazzling with a full armor of green metal with bluish reflections. His violet eyes shadowed by thick deep black eyebrows framed by abundant hair, gave him an incredible presence: an almost monstrous strength of will emanated from him. He seemed particularly furious to see the wise troll appear before him. Ort, although understanding perfectly the reason of the irritation of the man in armor, made as if he had not noticed it.

_ Lord Arkartin, I am glad to see you, I must absolutely contact His Majesty as soon as possible.

_ His Highness doesn't have only that to do, Gim! Tell me what it's all about.

_ It's about...

_ Yes? What's up? I'm waiting ...

_ We may be in possession of the Elven Runes!

_ Maybe? How can you have "maybe" something?! Do you have them or not?

_ Let's say to be more precise that we have in our city a person who had them in her hands ...

_ And? said Arkartin, not understanding where the troll was going and visibly more and more annoyed by the air of mystery the Troll was utilizing.

_ And we have the possibility to extract from her memory the elements she has seen and... Hum... To put it plainly, we can dispose of the Runes before the Unified Council!

_ So, what are you waiting for? Do what is necessary immediately!

_ This is... It raises... ethical... problems...

_ "Ethical"? That's a good one! Since when have so-called ethical problems prevented you from doing what needs to be done? You are not yet old enough to ask yourself this kind of stupid question. It is not yet time to assess your actions for the moment of the Great Departure!

_ But... You do not understand!

_ Ah? really? said Arkartin, what is it that I don't understand, troll?

Ort-k-Gim could not hold back a grimace in response to this obvious affront. Arkartin, on the other side of the mirror, stared at Ort with an air of defiance. With his arms folded across his chest, he was imposing, masterful, sure of himself. He was the perfect reflection of an accomplished warrior, fearing neither battle nor hordes of savage enemies. Accustomed to being obeyed by his men and by others, by all others. He stared at the troll with his bright and aggressive eyes, waiting for an answer, no matter what.

Finally, at the end of a long silence, Ort, whose voice trembled with a poorly concealed rage, resumed.

_ I spoke badly, Lord. It so happens that this kind of experiment is particularly dangerous, both for the person being probed and for the one who directs it. The forces used to achieve the desired result are extremely powerful and subtle at the same time. The risks are all the more important.

Arkartin, certainly on familiar ground when it came to "available resources" and "risk assessment", silently acquiesced.

_ So, under these conditions, I do need the assistance of my colleagues and disciples during the operation. And for that, I need to convince them of the "ethical morality" of it. Otherwise, I will never obtain their full and complete collaboration. I thought that His Majesty could have helped me in this, but if on your side...

Visibly embarrassed, Arkartin was now wandering around the brightly lit room, walking on the thick woolen carpets with his dirty, mudded boots. He seemed to turn the question in all directions without being able to find a way out. Ort, on the other hand, was discreetly observing him; he, too, had already searched in vain for an answer to this thorny problem. Certainly, he could have simply imposed his decision, as the Great Ordinator Of The Trollian Universal Knowledge of Innàa, but he knew in his deepest inner self that it was never good to impose on others actions that go against their deepest convictions... Especially if it is possible to do otherwise! It was simply necessary to find this "otherwise". But Arkartin seemed to stumble over the same stumbling block.