Our Dead Gods: The Complete Sunkenlands Epic: The Black Shroud Omnibus (Dwemhar Realms Omnibuses) by J.T. Williams

Author:J.T. Williams [Williams, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dwemhar Realms
Published: 2023-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

They were moving for the mountains of the north, a journey with questionable ending and though he had been bitten and injured, his sons did not need to know that. His wife had succumbed quite quickly but he would not be so weak. He couldn’t be.

As they progressed down a snowy path flanked on either side by towering rock, he thought back to his training as an Anointed One. Everything from the first day they stood before the great torches high above the city solemnly swearing their own creed to the One God, to the day he lifted his sword and shield for the first time being blessed by holy light. He had the hope that though he had forsaken his creed that some of that favor remained within him to give him strength. Though he had thought about putting his shield on his back, he was not used to carrying such a thing like this, and the weight of it upon his already injured arm was significant. Still, he would push on.

Surdia had come to a fork in the road and behind him Kilri and Kulres staggered to a stop looking to their father for direction.

"Is it left or right?" Surdia asked.

From this particular point Tralurl could see that they had actually made okay time to be at this position. The next part of their journey would take them back down away from the mountain and close to open ground. A significant danger with it still being dark. Instead of continuing on they would rest here for a few hours and await dawn. Await the safety of sunlight.

"Make camp. We rest. No fire, sleep against each other's back and against that rock."

There was a large boulder at the fork in the road in a small area that almost looked like a partial cave but didn't go anywhere. It was here he put the younger two, directing them to lay against one another. His oldest son stood by just a few paces away keeping lookout for anything that might approach from either direction.

Tralurl went to his pack to do something he was hoping to be a better, more ceremonial act. As the younger two children fell asleep, he pulled out something that was going to be the final gift from both his late wife and himself to the boys. It was a brown leather pack. These were rolled together only two years ago for safekeeping after by luck coming across such items that they did not expect.

He wouldn't wake the younger two but he would give them what they deserved in a few hours.

He unrolled the pack revealing three short silver blades, weapons forged in the Holy City of Vasruhal. Though their light had long since faded, and any ethereal power that once resonated within the weapons was gone, they were a symbol of the hope of men. Of the warriors that stood before the great fall. A fitting gift to give to the next generation and a necessary one given their circumstance.

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