Students of the Order by Edward W. Robertson & Sam Lang

Author:Edward W. Robertson & Sam Lang [Robertson, Edward W. & Lang, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 2020-12-17T06:00:00+00:00

~

"Loton wants to see you," Brakk said. "Best hurry. When he has to wait, the old bastard grows as salty as fish crackers."

Joti still wasn't sure if he liked Brakk's true personality better or worse than the simpering servant. He followed along, gnawed by the possibility the chief was calling him in to interrogate him about the Warp. It had been two weeks since Prock's second test, and despite Joti's ongoing solo efforts, he wasn't an inch closer to his goal. He didn't even know if he was pointed in the right direction.

They got in the little boat and ferried themselves over to the keep. Loton was in his mushroom grotto. Shain was with him, too.

The chief dismissed Brakk with a nod, then set his eyes on Joti. "Do you know how the No-Clan began?"

Joti frowned. "Six hundred years ago, before the Alliance began, humans came to our borders and raided our settlements. Dwarves, too. Skirmishes escalated into war. From a medley of tribes, the No-Clan formed to drive out the invaders. After, that medley stayed here to keep the borders safe. Over time, they found out that the best way to do that was to stop wars before they began."

"Correct—in a sense."

"In a sense? That's exactly what Almak taught us."

"He taught you what he was instructed to teach you: the history of what could be referred to as the second formation of the No-Clan. Long before that, however, we were common mercenaries. Drifters who joined together for protection and the easy profit of taking from others. We were no different from many of the tribes today. Raiding. Robbing. Killing as we pleased.

"Then the dragons came. No one knows what provoked them. There are those who will tell you they were lured here by the gold and wealth flowing across the border. But I believe they were sent as instruments of the gods. They burned everything. Decimating the land. Purifying it. And we made our stand.

"We weren't fighting for the money of the borders—that was long gone, burned along with the hills. We fought because we had no other choice. When the first dragon fell, we forged the ore inside it into swords. We shaped the scales that protected it into armor. With these tools, we learned to fight back until every warrior of our clan carried dragonsteel in their hand and scale on their chest. Over the years, we retook the Many-Claimed lands hill by hill and stream by stream."

He paused, as if envisioning a legion of scale-clad warriors charging an ancient wyrm.

Joti lifted his eyebrows. "But we haven't been like that for a long time, have we? What happened to those weapons?"

"They succumbed to the two forces far more powerful than any dragon: time, and loss. The surviving dragons flew away in search of easier prey. As wars came and went, and Marshals with them, some blades were lost in battle. Others were carried in retirement to remote farms to be hung above fieldstone mantels. Armor grew brittle and broke down.

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