Black Dragons
Chapter 1: Fateful Union
Disclaimer: I do not own Dungeons & Dragons
It was a dark and stormy day. The wind howled like the souls of the dead, and rain came down in fistfuls. The small, rickety tavern of the Boar's Head rattled in the wind as the patrons inside huddled near the fire and kept a close eye on their drinks. The door suddenly flew open and every eye in the tavern looked to see what had happened. A large, broad figure stood cloaked in the doorway, it stepped through and firmly grasped the door before struggling to push it closed. After it latched back into place the figure turned to the barkeep.
"You may want to bar that with something," A deep, resonating, male voice said from the cloak.
The barkeep nodded and two younger boys near the door lifted an empty table and placed it so that the door would hit it and only open enough to let somebody through.
The figured strolled through the bar without concern, despite the fact that every eye was on him. He sat down at the bar and threw back the hood from his head. Most of the people inside the tavern were farm folk, had lived there their entire lives and didn't see anything too fantastic or exotic, and that was why there was a sudden gasp of awe in the room.
The man was large, and his body covered in light-black scales. He appeared young, you could say, his brow was still small and what horns he did have were miniscule as they ran the bony ridges around his face. His eyes were a bright yellow with black, slit-like pupils. He drew a hand out from under the cloak and the patrons saw it was also covered in black scales and the nails were more like claws. He laid down a gold piece on the counter.
"However much that'll get me of your cheapest beer," The scaled man said.
The barkeep nodded and took the gold piece, he went into the back to fetch the drink and once he was out of site he bit the gold coin and tried to bend it with his teeth, the piece was genuine. He shrugged and pocketed the coin with the rest before fetching the man his drink.
"So, what is a dragonborn doing here?" A voice asked that broke the silence.
Every head in the tavern turned to the speaker, a man sitting on the barstool one over from the newcomer.
"I am a simple traveler, passing through on my way to my next destination," He replied.
"And where might that be?"
The Dragonborn looked to see who he was speaking with and stopped for a brief second when he realized that the man's legs dangled in the air from the barstool. He had a short goatee and his hair was kept in thick braids that ran down his back. He wore a suit of scale armor with a few vestments adorning it. A large hammer rested next to his chair, it's double head resting on the wooden floor of the tavern.
"I… do not know," the Dragonborn replied after his brief pause
"What are you looking at? Ain't never seen a dwarf before?" he asked.
"I have, I served with a few back in the military,"
"You were a soldier? Then what are you doing here? There's a war going on you know," The dwarf looked to the Dragonborn now.
"I am well aware, but I retired a long time ago, and have since been traveling between nations. I'm actually not from around here,"
"Well, you better get out of here quick if you know what's good for you," The dwarf broke the gaze and returned to his mug, "Soldiers frequent these taverns, trying to find enemy spies. Don't want them to mistake you for one do you?"
"No, that is something I would rather avoid, thank you for the warning…"
"Harbek," The dwarf replied, his voice slightly echoed by the mug he was about to down.
"Harbek, thank you,"
At this point the barkeep returned and laid down a keg on his back counter before popping it open and filling a mug for the Dragonborn. He took it with a simple 'thanks' and began to drink. Silence returned to the tavern and once the initial wonder of seeing a Dragonborn had worn off the bar goers returned to their drinks. It was quiet again, the only sounds were the crackling fire, the wind howling outside, the rain pattering on the windows, and the occasional cough.
After some time the door slammed into the table, stopping it from hitting the wall and two men entered through the slight crack, the second one turned and pushed the door closed. They both scanned the room and when their eyes alighted on the Dragonborn they puffed up their chests and approached him.
He, like everyone else in the tavern, turned his gaze to the door when it opened. He saw their gazes rest on him, their chests puff out as they tried to look intimidating, and their gait as they approached him. He smiled slightly and put his mug on the bar.
"Can I help you?" he asked them.
"State your name and business here," One of the men said.
These two men were soldiers, their armor and weapons attested to that. Likely a patrol that came through the area now and again, most of the locals knew them by face and while they normally wouldn't pay any attention to them after the door was closed, the confrontation with the Dragonborn was keeping their interest.
"I am Kimbatuul Arjhan, a traveler in these lands," The Dragonborn replied.
"Well Kim, mind telling us what your 'traveling' entails," One of the soldiers sneered at him.
"Actually, my known name is Arjhan, it is custom among my people to introduce with our surname first," Arjhan answered.
"Whatever, what are you doing here?" The soldier asked.
"As I said, I am a traveler, I'm just stopping here to get out of the storm and to enjoy a nice, warm, mug of beer," Arjhan answered.
"Stand down boys, he's with me," Harbek chimed in from beside them.
The soldiers turned to him and opened their mouths to say something when they stopped, Harbek was dangling a small icon that hung from a chain around his neck. The icon was a hand and wrist wrapped around a hammer as it lifted from an anvil, sparks still flying off from the collision.
"Sorry father," They both put their hands together and bowed.
"Think nothing of it, now if you don't mind leave us be so we can enjoy our drinks," Harbek told them.
They nodded and apologized quietly to Arjhan before ordering two beers and sitting down at a table by themselves.
Arjhan turned to Harbek, "You're a priest?"
"What, didn't expect the drunk dwarf to be a holy man?" he asked, a slight chuckle in his voice.
"You could say that," Arjhan told him as he turned back to face the bar and picked up his mug.
The tavern once again assumed its uniform silence. After a half hour Arjhan lifted another gold coin from his cloak and laid it on the table, he looked to the barkeep who perked up.
"A room please," Arjhan told him.
The man nodded and approached, counting out seven silver pieces and handing them to Arjhan before taking the gold into his pocket.
He pulled a key off a ring on his belt and handed it to Arjhan, "First door on the left sir,"
Arjhan nodded and stood up, making his way to the staircase that was situated on the left side from the door. He retired for the evening and the bar eventually emptied out. Harbek later collected his hammer and went upstairs. He heard some snoring coming from the first left door. Shaking his head he entered the door on the right side and entered his room. Taking off his armor and laying his hammer on his bed with him he curled up and was fast asleep and soon snoring as loudly as Arjhan was from the other room.