Slathbog's Gold

Thrang began with the gathering of the company. He explained to Osrik how each member had been chosen and asked to join the adventure. Osrik nodded as Thrang spoke, but asked no questions.

When Thrang told Osrik about how Alex became the eighth man, Alex listened closely. It appeared that his joining the company had not been as big a chance as he had thought. Thrang and Arco

“A wise choice I would say,” Osrik observed, glancing at Alex. “Or perhaps a lucky chance.”

Alex was sure the story of his being an untrained wizard had already reached Osrik, and he smiled weakly at Osrik’s words.

Thrang continued the story, including the first time Alex had used the inferno command and nearly set his beard on fire. When he told how Alex had defeated the three-legged troll, Osrik chuckled to himself and Alex turned pink.

“These seven bags you recovered, do you carry them with you?” Osrik questioned, glancing at Alex and then at Bregnest.

“Indeed, yes,” answered Thrang. “Master Taylor carries the burden of the seven.”

Osrik nodded thoughtfully and motioned for Thrang to continue the story.

Thrang told of the Oracle’s invitation and how Iownan had named Alex a friend. He told of the discovery of Alex’s magical sword, Moon Slayer.

Alex squirmed slightly in his chair, embarrassed because his own part of the story seemed very impressive the way Thrang told it.

When Thrang told Osrik about Alex’s sudden magical change during the bandit attack, Osrik took a deep breath.

“I have heard of such swords, though I have never seen one,” Osrik commented, sounding almost as excited as Thrain had the night before.

Thrang finished the story, leaving out the part about the old man in Techen and his secret map to the dragon’s lair. For a few minutes, Osrik did not speak, lost in his deep thoughts.

“It is nearly time for the midday meal,” said Osrik at last, glancing around the circle. “Before we eat, I would ask something of you.”

“We will do what we can for you,” Bregnest answered, noncommitally.

“These seven bags you recovered,” said Osrik, glancing at Alex. “Will you show them to me?”

“May I ask why, Lord Osrik?” Bregnest questioned, still looking a little worried.

“One of my cousins went on an adventure. It has been almost twenty years now, and we have heard nothing of his fate,” answered Osrik, an uneasy look on his face.

“You fear his bag is among the seven,” said Bregnest.

“I do,” said Osrik in a sad and troubled tone. “We were very close, and in the last few years, his family has fallen on hard times. If his bag is among the seven, whatever treasure is inside may help to repair their fortunes.”

“Then they will be brought before you immediately,” said Bregnest, turning to look at Alex.

“Thrain will lead you back to your chambers,” said Osrik, motioning for Thrain to come forward. “And if you don’t mind, I would dearly love to see this wondrous sword of yours as well.”

“As you wish, Lord Osrik,” replied Alex with a bow.

The rest of the company remained seated as Alex followed Thrain out of the hall. As soon as they were out of the main hall, Thrain began to ask Alex questions.

“Are you really a wizard then?”

“Untrained and untried,” answered Alex with a smile. “Though everyone says that I can be a true wizard, in time.”

“And you killed a three-legged troll all by yourself?” Thrain continued, almost bubbling over with excitement.

“With a great deal of luck.”

Thrain asked questions during the entire walk through the city and back to the chamber where Alex picked up his magic bag and sword. Alex answered him as well as he could, always trying to make his own part in the adventure seem smaller than Thrang had made it out to be.

“I’d love to be an adventurer,” said Thrain, as he led Alex back through the city toward the great hall. “But so few of us are ever chosen. I’ll probably end up being a silversmith like my father.”

“A noble profession, and far less dangerous than adventures,” said Alex. Then he asked, “How are your people chosen as adventurers?”

“Oh, that’s simple,” said Thrain, sounding pleased that Alex had shown interest. “When we come of age at fifty, we can seek your friend, the Oracle.” Thrain seemed happy to refer to the Oracle as Alex’s friend, and Alex had to smile. “Then, if she tells us we should be adventurers, we go to Telous to find an adventure to join.”

Alex was a bit puzzled by the idea of Iownan telling someone they should be an adventurer. She had spoken plainly to him, but he knew that was not her normal way.

“Few of us ever seek the White Tower these days though,” Thrain said, sounding a bit sad. “The roads are hard, and as you know, there are bandits. Most of my people prefer to remain here in the Brown Hills to make their fortunes.”

“When will you come of age?” Alex questioned.

“I’ll be fifty next spring,” said Thrain happily. “If I can find a few others who are willing, I’m going to find the White Tower.”

“You should think long before taking that road,” Alex advised. “The Oracle may not tell you what you wish to hear.”

“I’d like to see the White Tower anyway,” said Thrain, his smile still in place. “At least that would be an adventure, even if I never got to go on another.”

They had returned to the great hall and Alex thanked Thrain for leading him through the city. Thrain bowed deeply to Alex and quickly returned to his post at the edge of the hall.

“The sword Moon Slayer, Lord Osrik,” said Alex, holding his sword out for Osrik to see.

“Will you remove it from the scabbard?” Osrik asked, twitching slightly with excitement.

Alex drew the sword and held it in his hands so Osrik could see it better. The king bent over the sword to look closely at it, but he did not touch it. Alex remembered how Arco

“A most excellent weapon,” said Osrik, leaning back into his chair. “The dark elves were always the best swordmakers, after all.”

“There is more to it than swordmaking,” commented Arco

“I’m sure there is, my friend,” Osrik replied, smiling at Arco

“And of less worth,” Thrang added in a thoughtful way.

“Return your sword to your side,” said Osrik, seeming to take no note of Thrang’s comment. “You shall all be free to carry weapons in the dwarf realm of Vargland, for I name you all friends of my kingdom.”

“Your kindness overwhelms us,” replied Bregnest.

“And now for the bags,” said Osrik.

Alex spoke softly into his own magic bag, withdrawing the seven recovered magic bags one at a time. As he produced the bags, Alex heard Thrain gasp behind him. Osrik carefully examined each of the bags as Alex handed them to him. When Alex handed him the fifth bag, the color drained out of Osrik’s face and he let out an audible moan.

“It is as I feared,” said Osrik, his head sinking to his chest, his hands clutching the bag tightly. “Poor Umbar, he shall never return.”

“You recognize his bag then?” Thrang asked softly.

“As if it were my own,” answered Osrik, shaking his head in sorrow. “I will send for his heir and order the preparations made. The ceremony of returning the bag will take place this evening.”

Osrik gently handed the bag back to Alex, his hands shaking with emotion as he waved for Thrain to come forward.