"Are you certain you're alright?" Haya asked in concern.
"Definitely mom, I got spooked when I nearly tripped." Faris smiled, through slow application of his reserves in the crystal, Faris had been able to heal enough that he could stand and walk, just in time for his weekly talk with his parents. As he spoke into the mirror, he could see Gork poking his head from outside the room, curious to see Faris's parents.
"Be sure to rest lots, it's starting to get cold, we wouldn't want you to catch a chill." Bergan said
Faris smiled. "You don't have to worry about that, I sit tight most of the time."
"Though, I would be interested in learning about Urgals, but it was a miracle they allowed you to stay here, how much longer before their herb is able to help you?"
"About 1 and a half more years dad, but as soon as it's done, I'll be back home before you know it, Love you guys!"
"We love you too." The communication was cut off. After breathing a sigh of relief, Faris picked up his walking stick.
"Okay Gork, let's go."
They made their way to the large hall in the center of the village, by this point the tapestry was nearly complete, it depicted three dragons flying in separate paths, one green, one red, and one blue, and below the blue dragon, a boat, sailing into golden clouds. It awakened melancholy feelings in Faris, almost causing him to bump into Zhodar, who stood in front of him imperiously.
"I see you survived manling, a pity." Zhodar smirked at Faris, who looked at him with slight disdain.
"Yeah, seeing your face does make me regret surviving."
"You'll do more than regret soon!" He shouted, quieting when the Urgals turned to glare at him. He backed down, glowering at Faris for his embarrassment, Faris merely smiled at him.
"Ahem. We are here to see whether the man-child should be taken from our village." An elder Urgal with horns nearly twice as large as his head and mottled skin covered in skin tags spoke. His face was so wrinkled Faris thought he could guess the man's age simply counting the wrinkles.
"I believe he should." A tall, impressive Kull stood up, muscles bulging and horns shining, he glared at Faris. "This pup… doesn't belong in our halls, his presence stinks our homes and poison's our children's strength."
"You're being foolish." Another urgal shouted, "He's merely a child! And he can speak our tongue! That's not to mention that he's Mooneater's disciple! The fact he hasn't been treated with respect by your ilk is-"
"MY ILK?!" The kull laughed, "I'm simply here talking about keeping our culture pure, now you say, MY ILK? Like we're a poison? This child is the poison my brothers! Next thing you know we'll invite humans and elves to compete for our dams!"
Shouting erupted between the urgals. This was interrupted by laughter. The urgals turned to look at Faris, who shrugged. "Quite funny, you're talking about me when I'm not here." He turns to the rest of the Urgals. "Urgals of the Catch-Tooth Tribe, I thank you it is true that I am imposing on you. But it is for two equally important reasons." He pointed to his body, "I have a disease in the flesh, one that cannot spread, but will kill me before my 6th winter if I am not given treatment using one of your culture's herbs." He scanned the room, swallowing his nervousness as he continued, "The second was to simply learn more about, and understand the Urgal Culture, where strength and skill in combat reign supreme." He looks at Zhodar's father, "If you remember, my master invoked Otragkith." He looked at the intimidating being, who's horns were as large as his body, with an impassive gaze. "If you cast me away, that's the same as sullying the oath. And if any of the other clans heard, your clan would lose some standing." This roused up more words, which Faris quieted by waving his arms wildly. "But I can sympathize, an Urgal child in a human village would likely not receive the hospitality you've given me. So, me being here is in many ways an insult. So, let us settle this fairly. This issue cropped up from a fight between I and Zhodar, so we shall settle it. I will die without that herb on my 5th year, so in exactly one year, I ask to challenge Zhodar in a single match, he of course can choose the weapon, as is his right, but I am allowed the location and time, as long as it is within the village."
This caused more of an uproar, but the uproar was that of laughter. Whether it was the urgals who wanted him gone and the urgals who wanted him to stay, they all laughed. Even Hamma couldn't help but look at him incredulously. Zhodar's father, still mid chuckle, pointed a trembling finger at Faris, "Y-you? Fighting my son?!" He began laughing again. "Let me guess, using your magic is what you think is a fair fight hm?! What you used to shamefully bring down my son you!"
"By Svarvok Ushnark I will not use magic to strike your son or strengthen my fists in our duel, nor will I use it to otherwise leave your son dead or unconscious."
Zhodar and his father shared cruel grins. "Fine… I accept your challenge, what say the rest!?"
The urgals, not ones to pass up an opportunity to see a good fight, beat their fists and tools on the table. Eventually the room quieted and the elder looked at Faris.
"Do you swear by the tongue of truth?" He asked in the Ancient Language. Faris cocked an eyebrow.
"For the entirety of the year, no spell I cast, use, or think about, will be used to harm Zhodar, and during our battle in one year, I will not use a single spell on him." The elder smiled at Faris's answer.
"The battle will be in one year…"