The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains by Jason R Jones

Author:Jason R Jones [Jones, Jason R]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-04-09T05:00:00+00:00

Azenairk III:I

Redbridge District, City of Marlennak

“…Dark be’ith the days, and haunted be’ith the nights, in what was once and shall n’er be again. Too grand for the greedy, too holy for the wicked, the dream that was dreamed an n’er seen by eyes that would n’er return home...”---Dwarven folk tale passage regarding the myth of the lost Kakisteele mines. Circa 1335 B.C.

Axes, hammers, picks, strong and sturdy blades, and armor with every manner of spike and blade decorated merchant armorers and bladesmiths in Redbridge, one of many districts deep in the city of Marlennak under the Misathi. Zen grew up with four or five merchants that specialized in such smiths and forges, here, there were fifty or more. Heavy instruments of war, thicker than a human man would wield, and all with a black glimmer to the finish from the iron that was below the city. The smiths called out from the open shops in the dark red stone piled next to and above one another, calling for passers by to check their metals and buy some steel. Zen looked to the architecture, massive curved pillars reaching each other, holding up the fifty feet of ceiling above them. The echoes of pounding anvils and clanking hammers were music to his ears.

Heads turned to the mixed lot with father Drodun that toured the tight quarters on their way to Blackbridge. The minotaur, happy to be able to walk tall in the open caverns, received the most stares and solicitations since he could likely handle any heavy weapon they could forge. The red bearded dwarves gazed upon the golden elf and the dark haired woman as well, as much awe at their beauty as suspicion as to what such women were doing here. As for James, they paid little mind. Azenairk shook many hands, entertained many a questioning merchant, and spoke softly and quietly as to his home and family history in Boraduum. They could tell by the look, the black beard and roundness to his eyes, that he was from the Bori Mountains. The same, he was a priest of Vundren and garnished much respect from all he met.

“Should ye’ care to be better armed or such, let me know then. I can arrange to have the smiths come to ye’ instead of dealing with the crowds down here.” Father Drodun mentioned when none of the merchants were in earshot.

“I would, actually, be likin’ a hammer like this one I have here.” Azenairk spoke up.

“Father Thalanaxe, ye’ have a fine weapon there. Knowin’ Boraduum families and all, it is passed down, is it not?” Drodun commented, curious as he was.

“Tis’, aye, but…well…I have me reasons then.”

“Very well then, I will be arrangin’ that for ye’. I settle for only the best steel and fairest price. I know the best forge in Blackbridge, I will take ye’ to it then.” Drodun looked to gather the rest. The ladies were bowing and greeting to many a dirty dwarven smithy, James and Saberrak the same on the other side of the busy streets.

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