I was looking down at my mother in her sick bed, she looked just as she did before she finally succumbed to her illness; thin and drained. I could see her bones through paper-thin skin, and her eyes were crusted shut. She held Kearse’s medallion gripped in her left hand and black tendrils were creeping up the veins in her arm. When I moved to pry it loose from her fist, her eyes snapped open and the amulet flashed red, her other hand clapped onto my arm.

Clawing my way free of the dream, I wiped sweat from my brow and checked the other two beds. Neither Karan or Isaac had woken, so I must not have cried out. The recently risen sun was peeking through the window and I felt nearly whole again. Slipping on my pants I crept across the room, careful not to wake the others.

I grabbed my ax from beside the door and hoisted it across my bare shoulders. Striding out into the cool dawn air I slowly went through my woodsman stretches, working the last cobwebs of sleep from my mind and body. Keeping my hands far apart on the handle, I stretched up on my tiptoes and raised the ax as high as I could and then, keeping my legs straight, I brought it slowly down to the ground. I went through several more sets of basic stretches and then, feeling only a few, moderate twinges from my injuries, I stepped it up a notch to a series of exercises I had developed that incorporated my martial prowess.

I wove a complex series of swipes around my body with the ax head, turning and twisting, the blade of the ax at times cutting through the mist of my own breath. Planting my feet at interspersed moments and bringing the ax head down in overhead cuts, stopping it at the approximate head height of a Wolf. I was leaning on my ax handle and drinking from a waterskin when I heard a lewd whistle from the cabin behind me.

I turned to see Isaac leaning against the wall of the cabin and I raised an eyebrow at him. He noticed me looking at him and then turned to the open doorway, a look of surprise crossed his face as he saw it was empty.

“I-I-I didn’t, th-that wasn’t...”

A gale of laughter followed Isaac’s stuttering attempt at an explanation as Karan, doubled over with a fit of giggles, stepped out from the doorway.

“Your face...” she gasped, “Priceless.”

Another burst of laughter stopped her from commenting further. A red-faced Isaac directed a kick at her shins but she danced out of the way.

A grin found its way onto my face as I shouldered the ax and strode into the cabin to wash up.

Later that day, as Isaac and I were teaching some Rebels about the best pressure points to use on a Wolf, Lisa’s caravan returned with the dwarven armor and a new friend with his own conveyance. A pair of huge, broad-shouldered, green lizards pulled the enormous new wagon. Constructed entirely of black iron the metal monstrosity was driven by a stout, red haired dwarf whose broad, tattooed face poked out of a full, braided beard.

I sidled up to James as he was directing the wagons to their berths and whispered, “Who’s the new guy? And what is the deal with that wagon?”

A smile touched his face briefly as he said, “That’s Draeven Ironbeard, he came with us from the Dwarven clan. As to the wagon, you’ll have to wait and see,” One of the wagon drivers must have done something wrong because his brows came together and he stormed off, yelling, “Jones you numbskull! Turn left! Left! It’s this way.” He waved his left arm and started to jog, leaving me to stare at the metal wagon and wonder.

“What’s that?” asked Isaac, appearing at my shoulder, staring open-mouthed at the behemoth.

“I don’t know,” I responded.

We both drifted towards the Dwarf’s wagon like leaves caught in its draft. Draeven brought his wagon to a halt and dropped down from the driver’s seat, his beard nearly touching his thick leather boots. He walked up to his lizard team and began to unhitch them as we approached.

“I recognize those looks,” he said with a grin, “‘course, I last saw them on a pair o’ wee children. Draeven Ironbeard at yer service.”

“I’m Drake Grant, this is Isaac Brookes,” I said, still staring at the wagon.

“Would ye like tae see her in action?”

“What?” we asked in unison.

“Stand clear lads,” he warned, climbing onto the driver’s bench and grasping a thick cord in one leather gloved hand.

Isaac and I shuffled back a few steps, our eyes glued to the wagon, several other people had gathered to watch as well. The dwarf gave the cord a mighty tug, dropping to the ground as he did. The entire contraption started to shake and then the roof of the wagon folded back and the rear panel and one side of the wagon swung down on hinges, revealing a full blacksmithing shop. In the center of the unfolded wagon sat a relatively large forge and a workbench with an attached stool. On the lowered side of the wagon, now flush with the ground, perched a small anvil with an empty water trough near by for quenching metal hot from the forge. The back of the wagon held a bin for the many types of ore the smith worked with. Hung on the wagon’s still upright front and side panels were the various tools of the smithing trade; hammers lined up by size and density, tongs for moving hot metals, molds for the crafting of weapons. All the tools were stuck to the walls by some means not clear to the naked eye.

“Rune magic,” Draeven grunted, beckoning us over for a closer inspection, “See here,” he said, pulling a large hammer off of the wall and turning it over. On the back of the tool was a faintly glowing blue rune with a matching one carved into the wall where it had hung. “The two runes call tae each other when they are in proximity,” he explained. He moved to replace the hammer and released it when the runes were a few inches apart. The hammer snapped to the wall with a dull clunk and remained there.

Isaac grabbed a set of tongs and heaved on them. Straining with the effort, he tried to remove them from their spot on the wall to no avail.

Chuckling with amusement, the dwarf turned his gloves palm up to reveal another rune stitched into each one, “It helps tae have the deactivation rune o’ course.” He slid back the lid of a bin on the workbench, reached in and withdrew a pair of runed gloves, which he tossed to Isaac.

“Fancy,” I remarked as I watched Isaac try a few more times, “What’s the range on these runes?”

“They’ll work reliably up to a few paces outside the wagon, past tha’ it becomes a mite spottier. Anything more’n a few feet apart and it becomes a bit dangerous as well,” he elaborated, taking the hammer down again and exiting the wagon. “Watch yer heads lads!” he called, opening his meaty fist.

As soon as the hammer left his gloved hand, the rune blazed to life and the tool became a missile, shooting back to its spot on the wall. As it sped toward the forge the gathered onlookers gasped and I flinched, but instead of there being a mighty crash, a rune engraved on the forge flared and the hammer curved up and over it, speeding past a ducking Isaac and settling into its berth upon the wall.

“Well, I’m suitably impressed,” I said.

“Aye,” he nodded, “She took a while to get together, but I’m proud as a mother goat. If you two need weapons repaired, sharpened or even made special for ye, ol’ Bessie and I are here tae help.”

Still in awe, I said “I would be honored to wield a weapon created in this marvelous machine.”

“Ditto for me,” Isaac added.

“Well what type of weapon do you lads favor?” he asked.

“I prefer a sturdy spear,” Isaac told him.

I requested a gladius, which I preferred when not using a rifle.

“Easy enough,” he told us, “I’ll get tae work on them as soon as I get settled in.”

“Much appreciated sir dwarf,” Isaac said.

The gathered crowd dispersed with some applause and a few cheers and Isaac and I bid Draeven goodbye.

Walking through the encampment and chatting animatedly about what we had just witnessed, Isaac and I caught sight of the rebel Wolf who had been staring daggers at me. He was far enough ahead of us not have noticed our approach and deep in a whispered conversation with three other rebels. I held up a hand for Isaac to stop and then flicked two fingers to the right and we ducked between two cabins and circled around to get a closer look.

Stopping in front of the cabin they were gathered behind, I looked around and, not seeing anyone, motioned for Isaac to help me onto the roof. He knelt down and laced his fingers to for a step and boosted me up. I crawled up to the peak of the roof and cocked an ear toward the four rebels, staying low so they wouldn’t see me.

I couldn’t hear everything they said, but it sounded like they were going to wait outside someone’s cabin and jump them. I came into the conversation too late to hear exactly who they were talking about but I felt I had a pretty good idea who it was. Especially when I heard their leader say, “He’ll pay for what he and his father did to our people.”

I’d run into a few Wolves who’d had family members my father and I had ‘dealt with’. Usually, as most of our kills were sick Wolves, an apology for their loss and some coin was enough to mollify them. A few times that wasn’t enough and they had screamed themselves hoarse and then stormed off, leaving what money I’d offered them lying where they had thrown it. Once or twice a fight had broken out. This was the first time I’d encountered someone bearing a grudge this hard.

It had been quiet for a few minutes when I felt a hand on my ankle. Jumping, I kicked out and missed Isaac’s head by an inch.

“Whoa, cool it man, they left,” he said.

I furrowed my brow, “I need to speak to Eldarion about this.”

“What’d they say?”

“They were talking about assaulting someone tonight. I didn’t hear any names but they talked about something their target and his father did that requires revenging.”

“You and your old man killed a lot of Wolves,” Isaac said.

“My thoughts exactly.”

Just then Kearse’s medallion, still on the leather thong around my neck, emitted a flash of red light.

“Did you just see that?” I asked Isaac.

“That flash of red from under your shirt? I did, what was it?”

“Kearse’s medallion,” I told him.

“Does it do that a lot?” he asked.

“No,” I answered, “I’ve been having strange dreams where it glows, but this is the first time it’s happened outside of my head. We should talk to Eldarion, maybe he has some applicable Divination spells he can use.”

We turned toward the main lodge and Isaac looked over at me and asked, “Divination spells?”

As we crossed the dusty wagon yard I replied “Yeah, you remember when he and I went around talking to people about their Avatars?”

“To add to the book he showed us,” Isaac said.

“Right,” I told him, “He also wanted to try casting some spells on me, to see what he could find out. He said that the full moon would augment the spells, so we were going to start preparing at the end of the week. Hopefully he has some spells that will help with this particular situation as well.”

We stopped to let a group of rebels sporting new, dwarven-made breastplates file past, they were complimenting each other on their new armor and laughing.

“Looking good ladies and gents,” Isaac said, slapping a few backs as the soldiers passed.

The last of the soldiers went by and Isaac and I continued on our errand, the rebel’s laughter passed out of earshot as we entered the main room of the meeting hall. Solomon and Eldarion were in one of the small side rooms talking and looking over a map displayed on a sturdy oak table. They looked up as we entered.

“Did you need something Drake?” Eldarion asked.

“Oh, it’s not a pressing matter,” I told them, “ just a couple things I wanted to bring to your attention. I can wait until you two finish your meeting.”

“I think we’ve covered everything we needed to,” Solomon said, belting on his swords, “I should get out there and see to acquiring some of that new dwarven armor for my soldiers.” Walking past us toward the door, he said, “I’ll see you two at training later?”

“We’ll be there,” I said.

“Come on in, my boys,” Eldarion said, gesturing us into the small room, “Do you mind if I sit?” he asked, walking over to a high backed chair on the side of the room, “My old bones don’t hold up as well as they once did.”

“Please do,” I said, Isaac and I walked into the room and leaned up against the heavy table.

“Now,” he said as he settled into the armchair and looked up at us, “What did you want to tell me?”

That was the moment Kearse’s medallion chose to flash red again.

“That’s one of the reasons actually,” I pointed to the medallion, “I thought you might know why it would do that.”

Eldarion reached for the medallion, “May I?”

I bowed my head and lifted the thong from my neck, Eldarion held the medallion, palm up, in his left hand. Holding his right hand poised over the wolf’s head he moved it in a slow circle and began to mutter under his breath. A blue energy sprang into being around his hands and crackled in his eyes, the medallion lifted off of his palm and hung suspended between his hands in a blue bubble. He turned his hands from side to side and inspected the medallion from every angle. While it was turning, blue energy tendrils extended from his hands and began probing the medallion, Eldarion’s brow furrowed when they touched a certain area on its back. He stopped moving his hands and the medallion stayed in place, the tendrils converged on the spot and the medallion flashed red three times and then the energy surrounding the medallion turned solid red before dissipating.

Eldarion’s eyes widened as the energy faded away, “We must alert the troops,” he gasped, “There’s not much time.”

“Why? What did you see?” I asked.

“The enemy is upon us,” he said, struggling to get to his feet. Drained from the spell and whatever vision it revealed, he collapsed back into the chair.

From the lodge’s doorway Isaac said, “Too late.”

He held a rebel scout propped on his shoulder, blood dripped from deep claw marks on the man’s side and a bullet wound in his shoulder. The scout was so pale that I thought he was dead at first, but he surprised me by lifting his head and speaking when Isaac brought him into the room.

“They fell upon us in the woods,” he said weakly, spitting a glob of blood onto the floor, “we were on our way back from Riverdale, we had almost made it when a howling wave of them crashed into our flank.” He flinched and turned a shade paler as the pool of blood grew under him, Isaac brought him over to the table and I swept the map off of it as he gently lowered the wounded man onto it. Isaac pillowed his cloak under the man’s head and tipped a canteen to his lips. The man gulped down the amber liquid within and coughed up some more blood. Eldarion lowered his head into his hands as the scout continued, “They killed everyone, I barely managed to escape while they were slaughtering my unit. They’ll be here soon.”

“That’s enough, soldier,” I said, dabbing blood from the corner of his mouth. “You’ve delivered your report, you did well, rest now. We’ll take care of this.”

I looked into his eyes and, as the distant sound of battle reached us, I saw the life depart them as he breathed his last. After a brief prayer to the Life Keeper, I told Isaac to get Eldarion to the stable.

“The book,” Eldarion said, “Do you have it?”

“It’s in my pack in our cabin,” I said, “I’ll go get it and meet you two at the stables.”

“We should stick together Drake,” Isaac said, hoisting Eldarion up and cradling him in his massive arms.

“I’ll be fine, I need to find Karan as well,” I told him, drawing my rifle from its holster on my back, “I’ll cover you two for as long as I can. Now go!”