Part #4. The Lad Named Glarus

"I believe that I may have mentioned a good friend of mine by the name of Glarus, Son of Theos. Lovely soul, though a wee bit on the fussy side, if I'm being completely honest. However, I've never had a more honorable and loyal friend in all my days," The Goliath looked off into the distance for a brief moment and smiled. "Ya see, Glarus is one of my oldest friends. I knew him from when we were just lads. He was the son of some fancy king and his wife who was an Elven maid. Now, in his lands, the folk were none too kindly to Elves, mind you. So Glarus dinna become the heir, he just kinda sat around and whined about wanting to go on adventures and such. This is the story of Glarus' first adventure with myself.

The kingdom of Arwindor had reigned over the land for many years. For the most part, it was humans, but some Elves lingered. King Theos had been reigning for quite some time and the folk seemed pretty happy. It was rather peaceful and there were very few adventures to be had.

Nearby, a mountain range hosted some of the grandest things in the known world; snowpeak cliffs, evergreen trees…. And a certain devilishly handsome Goliath named Kazok Farseeker of Clan Elikanarai. Ya see, lads and lasses, we would often trade with the folk from his kingdom. So the two of us became fast friends one day after Glarus was trying to make conversation with one of the nobles and accidentally turned his name from Lord Hishtarter to Lord Shitsharder."

With that, a few of the children giggled. That isn't to say that the Goliath did not join in their merriment. In fact, he was laughing quite a bit. However, it was soon interrupted when one of the mothers who had been listening to the story thumped him on the head for using such language.

"Anyway," he continued after pretending the attack did not phase him (it certainly did, the woman was quite strong indeed). "So, the lord was not happy with being called… well, ye ken. But ya see, when I heard Glarus say that, I was in the middle of a lovely cup of whisky. It sprayed like dragonfire from my nose and mouth; all over half the lords there. Lucky for me, I'm a fast runner.

Over the years, the lad and I kept in touch. When I would visit for royal parties and whatnot, I would often regale my friend with tales of adventure and excitement. Of course, at that time, the most out-of-the-ordinary thing he'd ever done was eat a third helping of beef and cheese once, rather than just a second. But Glarus was destined for way more than just a mere courtier. The lad could use magic and his power was untested. Many dinna believe this ever happened, but I once saw him sneeze out a firebolt.

The first time we went on an adventure, it wasna some grand excursion into lands of evil. But rather, it was a wee bit more of a journey to a nearby town to help them find their missing sheep.

The sun was beaming against the bluest of skies without a cloud to be seen. Some of the peasant folk had sent a messenger to the royal palace of Arwindor, and the king sent Glarus to investigate. You see, he figured that some hands-on experience in the field of diplomacy would help the lad.

Chronicler's Note: Of course, many of us know of the great diplomatic prowis of Glarus, Son of Theos. However, back in those days the royal was still recovering from the notorious "Shitsharder" incident.

Now, despite Glarus having some skill with a sword and even more with magic, King Theos wanted to ensure the lad was kept safe (even if it was only from the dreaded jaws of some sheep). So, in his wisdom, he sent my humble self alongside him.

The two of us marched down the road, on a beautiful summer afternoon. We were telling tales and singing songs, all the way until we reached the village of Woodsburrow (hey, I dinna pick the name). The folk ran to us and told us their tale. I remember their exact words, they said: "Please, noble heroes! We are in dire need. Our sheep have gone missing and we need you to help save them. Only you two can save our village." At least, I think that's what they said.

Now Glarus, being the thoughtful fellow he is, replied: "We will be more than happy to help you. Would you be so kind as to point us in the direction they might have headed off to?"

They did just that, and soon he and I were back on the road. We followed the countless hoofprints down paths and through woodlands, until we finally heard a chilling and distant "Bahhehehehehe." I was a bit lost in the story I was telling, but Glarus was able to get my attention after a little while. When we heard another bah, it was clear to us that the sheep were in a nearby glade.

Glarus suggested that we sneak up in the brush, so we did just that. As we snuck (or is it sneaked?), we heard the voice of a man. He spoke with a booming voice, dripping with authority. After sneaking a peak over the brush, we saw the sight of a young mage on a hill. He wore dirty purple robes and carried a staff. I dinna think he was right in the head, because he said stuff like: "Soon I will rule Woodsburrow with you as my army!" and "I will forever be known as Sheeplord!" Actually, I think the lad was downright bonkers.

We decided that it would be best if we knock the fellow out and take him home for healing. Thus, we were back to sneaking. Quiet and swift, we were, until… Well, I should probably admit now that I get hay fever from time to time, and unfortunately this was one of those times. "Achoo!"

"What the hells?" cried the Sheeplord.

"Kazok!" scolded Glarus.

I turned to yell something of my own, but then I just sneezed again. Then, I sneezed again… and again, and again. It was a full on allergy attack, and Sheeplord was already sending magic careening towards myself and my friend.

But Glarus would not so easily fall. Out of sheer instinct, the lad was deflecting magical bolts and sending them back at our foe. I'm sure it looked rather impressive, but I was still in the middle of my dreaded battle with hay fever (a fight which still rages on to this day).

I heard the sizzles and cracks of magic, coupled with the words of incantations, until suddenly, they stopped! I sniffled for a minute, but then I came to and saw Glarus, standing over his sleeping foe like a hero of old. The lad had saved the day.

We took the Sheeplord, and his legion, back to town and were met with cheers and flowers. They told us we were heroes, and I was all "Nah, folks, you are the true heroes." I dinna ken why I said that, all they did was lose some sheep to some daft fella. Speaking of that lad, it turns out that he was actually just sleepwalking! He was some overworked shepherd who could use some magic. Some have been a hell of a dream. Glarus would later admit that there was a slight possibility that his sworn foe just fell back asleep, rather than lose to Glarus' superior might. But either way, I learned that day that sleep magic was a thing. So that was kind of neat."

And just like that, his tale had ended. Kazok sighed contentedly and looked over at his audience. Some of the children clapped and others asked him for more, but it was time to go. So Kazok left Kjartenholm, waving goodbye to his newfound friends. As he set out once more, he found himself hoping that he would share tales there again someday.

Dear Reader,

Here is another Kazok story! Glarus is played by my friend in our campaign, and it is a really fun dynamic. I like writing this story, I don't worry about writing a masterpiece or having perfect prose, I just try to make my readers laugh. I hope I succeeded a bit! If you like it? I would love to hear your thoughts in a review! I'll always certainly not complain with favorites. I hope you all have a wonderful New Year as we escape the dreaded 2020.

~Kovecs