VII: Who Is Without a Sin?

"That's what I call "drunk"!" Khelgar nodded at comatose Grobnar, who was thrown across the saddle. " 's he alive at all?"

"He is," Adele smirked, holding the gnome between herself and the horse's withers. "Well, at least he breathes."

Their horses were moving in an unhurried line through narrow paths of the Sword Mountains back to Neverwinter. Khelgar preferred to move on foot, taking advantage of their slow speed, and was obviously not going to climb on the mare for as long as possible. Casavir showed them a quicker path, different from the one they took coming to Old Owl Well, so the landscape around was completely unknown.

Grobnar suddenly gave a start, tossing his head up, and Khelgar let out a disappointed hem: "Eh, bad luck."

"Huh? What?" the gnome started to spin his head around so fast that it seemed to revolve on its axis. "Are we going somewhere already? Where? Me too? Oh my, that is so wonderful! Not that I care where to go, but maybe you do, that's why I asked," he noticed Casavir and smiled broadly at him. "My, we have a new friend? Good day to you, sir, I'm Grobnar Gnomehands. Miss Adele," he turned back to the woman without giving the paladin a second to react somehow to his words. "Do you think we can go back to the camp for a while? You know, I tasted a very interesting drink there… what was it called? Oh, I wanted to ask, but didn't have time. Because I fell asleep. And what is most disappointing, I fell asleep exactly in the middle of an extremely fascinating story! Quite embarrassing, really. I am so terribly ashamed. I mean, the soldiers to whom I was telling it – now they'll never know the end! I must say, it was horrible of me to fall asleep so selfishly, don't you think?"

"Del," Qara groaned. "Gag him before we are all drown in this stream of consciousness."

"My, these are wonderful mountains!" Grobnar dangled his legs cheerfully, looking around. "The way the light falls, and those shadows, and the colors… Very beautiful! And look, there are even dwarves – my, like a picture, really!"

"What?!" Khelgar gave a startled jump, turning around.

Adele drew rein, and the horse stopped, tapping a hoof on the stones discontentedly. Others followed the woman's example.

Indeed, at the bottom of a mountain there were several dwarves, covered by a shadow cast by a ledge. Judging from their appearance, they had seen battle not long ago – intently and somberly they were attending their wounds, trading rare words and remarks. As the travelers approached, one of the dwarves – a bit thin for someone of his race, with a sumptuous goldish plaited beard – got up from his seat, eyeing the newcomers mistrustfully:

"You are a strange band to be wandering these mountains."

to be wandering anything anywhere, - Adele thought with amusement.

"Khulmar?!" Khelgar asked, astonished, and advanced the dwarves. "Same could be said 'bout ya. What're ya doin' here, so far from Ironfist lands?"

"Not as far as you'd think, Khelgar," the dwarf snapped back and regarded the rest of them with another unfriendly gaze. "But it's clan business, not for outsiders."

"Ah, Khulmar, c'me on. These 're friends, can be trusted..." he cast a short sidelong glance at Neeshka. "Well, most of 'em. Who's blood 's that on yer armor? Orcs?"

"Khelgar, who is it?" Adele asked quietly.

"This here 's Khulmar, one of the best scouts of Ironfist clan – an' good in a fight," Khelgar shrugged. "Not that it explains what he's doin' here, though."

Khulmar wiped off the blood breaking out from a deep cut on his forehead: "We are scouting out the old Ironfist clanhold in these mountains, seeing if it can be reopened… or retaken. Bugbears are blocking the way. But they will not do so for long."

"Bugbears?" Khelgar roused himself immediately. "Then what 're we waitin' for?! Let's bury them!"

"It's nothing we can't handle, Khelgar," Khulmar answered sharply. "No need to shed the blood of non-clan."

"Nonsense, Khulmar! These all 're spoilin' for a fight," Khelgar laughed and turned to the others. "What say ya all? Wanna give the vultures some bugbear corpses to feast on?"

Casavir, who was standing closest to him, shrugged: "If they are in need of help, we should do what we can," he looked at Adele, making a point. "The more allies we have in these mountains, the better. A dwarven presence, especially the Ironfist clan, would also make tactical sense as well."

"Yeah, that's great, Casavir," Qara snorted. " 'Always did what they could'. That will be carved on our tombstones. If anyone finds our bodies at all."

"Is it true they say," Neeshka broke in, "that old dwarven halls have lots of gold and gems, just lying around for the taking?"

Khelgar regarded her with a scathing look: "Maybe so, but not for yer rakin' hands, fiendling!"

"After everything what we have seen in these mountains," Elanee muttered, "I don't welcome the thought of going deeper inside them. But if we must..."

"Why, you don't want to, miss Elanee?!" Grobnar stared at her in clear amazement. "Why? It sounds like a tale waiting to happen!" he lifted his eyes to the skies. "Just think of it! "Grobnar Gnomehands and the liberation of the Ironfist clan… and all its engineering marvels". A tale for any tavern, for every man, woman and child…"

Khulmar tilted his head: "Who is this gnome?"

Khelgar waved his hand: "Eh, just arrow bait. I'll tell you later," he looked up at Adele: "So, what d'ya think?"

"About helping your kin?" the woman smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Khulmar's face remained impervious: "We are grateful for the... gesture, but such false courtesies are wasted on us. This is Ironfist clan business."

"But, Khulmar," Khelgar grunted. "I am Ironfist clan -- yer fight 's my fight!"

Khulmar gritted his teeth and suddenly bawled: "Those were not the words you used when you left so long ago to pursue this mad... idea of yours!!! You seek to learn how to fight, but you have cast aside the why of it! Clan honor, duty - these are the things you've forgotten the value of!!! So stay with your new band - we neither ask for your help nor require it!"

"The new band" exchanged puzzled glances behind Khelgar's back, but stayed mute – no one had any desire to get between two angry dwarves. Well, apart from Casavir, but even he thought better of it.

"Look, Khulmar," Khelgar growled, "if I can help…"

"You wish to help – do something of note, not words!!! Go and kill all the bugbears ahead if you want to! Whether you return or not, it does not matter to me, and it does not matter to the clan!"

"That I will!" Khelgar flared up. "I'll go an' kill, ya just wait an' see!!!"

With those words he turned abruptly on his heels and rushed straight on along the canyon. Others had no choice but to leave horses and follow him.

"Now these are friendly fellows…" Qara remarked.

"Yeah, what's gotten into them?" Neeshka looked back over her shoulder, as if afraid that the dwarves were following them. "What's the problem in leaving for some time?"

"I didn't leave!" Khelgar bellowed. "I mean, I didn't leave them!!!"

"Did you know they were going here, into these mountains?" Adele asked.

"No… They just didn't tell me! Not that they could… but still, I didn't leave 'em!!! I just… just was lookin' for a fight in other places!"

"Come on, don't boil," Neeshka waved her hand. "There's nothing bad in some personal interest."

"What 're ya talking about?!!" the dwarf exploded. "Personal interest?!! It's my loyalty to the clan ya're questionin'!!! Bein' a warrior 's honorable! I just… It's for them I… I…" he stuttered, then spat on the ground furiously. "Bah, I'm fed up with ya!!! Stop naggin' me!!!"

"I didn't even begin to!"

"Argh, piss off!!! Let's just go and hack some bugbears – they don't speak rot at least!!!"

Brandishing his axe in tact with his frantic footsteps, he sped up into the mountains…


…Heat emanated from the stones warmed by the sun, rock dust filled the air, and the way along the canyon seemed a lot longer than it really was. Bugbears were not much of a problem, especially considering Khelgar's bad moods that made the dwarf cut through them like paper. After a couple of hours sweat- and blood-covered travelers finally found themselves in front of a blank stone wall, hewed out right in the crag. Despite the past years – or maybe even ages – there were still some hints of decorations visible… or it was just an illusion, created by the peculiar crevices in the stones.

What wasn't an illusion for sure is a large built-in rusty metal box with levers protruding from it. For some time they were standing around it, staring thoughtfully, until Adele managed:

"So… any idea what it is?"

"None," Khelgar stated. "Doesn't look like anything dwarves would have created, that's for sure… Too complicated…"

"…And…" Adele scratched her slightly pointed ear. "Nobody knows how it works, right?"

"I can blow it up," Qara suggested.

"We can always get to that," the woman smirked.

"Oh, oh, hold on a moment!" Grobnar suddenly broke in. "I remember hearing about something like this… I think."

The others looked back at him. The gnome was rocking on his heels, staring at the mechanism with his hands linked together behind his back.

"So?" Neeshka finally drawled.

"Huh?" he blinked, looked at her, then slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh, yes, right! Look," he ran up to the mechanism. "You see this lever? It's connected to the grommet underneath the casing, which connects to that gear over there!"

"…And?"

"Oh, you shouldn't have asked," Qara whispered…


…Unable to hold back any longer, Adele yawned into her fist. Elanee, who was sitting beside her on a rock, leaned her elbows on her knees, propping her head up heavily with her hands. Neeshka twiddled her tail with her fingers and cast a guilty look at Qara, who was burning her to ashes with her glare.

"…And that gear," Grobnar continued, "then connects to the widget you see tucked into the corner over there..."


"…so that connects to the sprocket over there..."

Khelgar, who had almost treaded out a canyon of his own, circling nervously in front of the wall, gave a deep sigh. Casavir seemed to be the only one who tried sincerely to listen to the gnome – but, judging by his hollow stare, was doing it out of pure politeness.

"…which finally leads to the underslung rachety-cog!" Grobnar turned to them and beamed. "And - there you have it!"

Others exchanged glances again and stared back at the gnome. His smile grew wider.

"Have what?" Adele asked.

"Why, an opened door!"

There was silence. Khelgar came to a halt, digging his glare into Grobnar: "Couldn't ya just say that we need to pull a lever to open the door?!"

"Oh?" Grobnar blinked at him. "But it is what I said."

"…That does it," the dwarf strained. "We bury the gnome here. Alive."

He stomped towards the lever, ignoring Grobnar who was jumping around him: "Sir Khelger, sir Khelgar, wait, there is a tinny-tiny problem…"

"Shove off!"

"This device... well, you see, it does not work."

"What?! What d'ya mean?!"

"Well... the machine is missing a piece I mentioned, remember? The one that is connected to that left pinion…"

"Alright," Neeshka rose to her feet, laced her fingers together and wrenched her joined palms out for show until the joints crackled. "You could have said from the start that it's a lock. The most complicated lock I've ever seen, but still…" she caught Grobnar by the collar and dragged him to the machine. "Where's the part missing?" bethinking, she added quickly: "Just point a finger at the place!"

The gnome obliged, pointing his finger obediently, and the tiefling squatted down to examine the mechanism.

"It's better be something really valuable inside," she sighed, fetching her lock-picks.

"I'll pull off yer tail, demon, if ya take anything, ya hear me?!" Khelgar growled.

"Oh, fine. But then this whole thing's a waste of my talents! Qara, sympathize!"

"I'd have still just blown it up," the sorceress responded phlegmatically, studying her nails.

"Soooo, guys, hold your breath…" Neeshka bit her lip, carefully turning and pulling the lock-pick.

Something clicked dryly inside of the machine, and the stone wall crawled up heavily, showering the travelers with dust, small debris and scraps of old tree-roots. From the opened dark embrasure came a blast of moist underground coolness.

"Tah-dah!" Neeshka grinned broadly. "So, who's the most wonderful and skilled tiefling here?"

"Aren't you always?" Adele chuckled and looked down at Grobnar. "Nice job from you too."

"Me?" the gnome wondered. "Why? I mean, thank you, of course, but…"

"Just be quiet, please."

"…Alright," Grobnar whispered, beaming at her.

Neeshka gazed at the dwarf, still grinning: "Huh, Khelgar? Who earned a little of gems?"

He scratched his beard grimly.

"…We'll see," he grumbled, entering the cave. "We'll never have enough for ya all…"

The scarlet light of the sun drooping in the west followed them into the cave, illuminating a part of a huge hall with ancient stone walls, twined with silver veins of ore. Khelgar stopped, looking around in apparent awe, but the joy was soon replaced by disappointment as they found that the path deeper into the clanhold was blocked by an old landslide.

"So much for my gems," Neeshka muttered.

"Blow it up?" Qara asked without much hope.

"No way!" Khelgar exclaimed indignantly. "Careful work is needed here, thorough an' painstakin'!"

Adele was slowly passing around the available part of the hall, taking time to have a good look at the quaint tracery of ore veins covering the walls and not hidden even by a thick dust layer – when her gaze caught on a massive chest on the floor, half-strewed with fallen rocks.

"Khelgar!" she called, her voice echoing deeply. "There's something here!"

"What is it?" Neeshka rushed to her first, her red eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Oh wow!"

"Hands off!" Khelgar shouted, dragging the chest from under the rock heap and cautiously lifting the wrought lid.

Inside was a pile of dust, snippets of oiled leather and a few rusty links of chain armor. Neeshka snorted: "Some treasure."

Khelgar paid no heed to her words, raking away the dust, and from the bottom of the chest took a pair of gauntlets, dim from the time they spent locked away. The dwarf shook them up almost tenderly, running his palm warily over their surface to brush off the dirt from some old marks in dwarvish…

"Oh gods!" he suddenly breathed out, almost dropping the gauntlets the way his hands shook; his eyes became round. "I… I don't believe it! Our clan thought they'd been lost forever."

"What is this?" Adele asked, crouching beside him.

Khelgar licked his lips in agitation, not able to tear his ardent eyes from the gauntlets: "Well… I'm not the best at clan's history, but I definitely recognize these… They're the gauntlets of Ironfist, held by the first of our kings, Torim. He wore 'em when our homeland fell to the orcs. But…" he cast his eyes upwards, looking around the hall vaulting above them. "But that would mean… this clanhold 's... This must be our first clanhold! The halls where Torim made his final stand. If I had only known this place was here, that these were here!"

"So, these gauntlets… they are kind of your clan's heirloom?"

"Bah, 'tis more than just a heirloom, believe me! No dwarf would have made somethin' without practical value! They say, anyone who gains these gains the strength of ten… no, twenty! It's how the clan earned the name. With these, ya can punch through a stone wall!"

"Why would anyone want to punch a stone wall?" Neeshka wondered.

"Just explainin', 'tis an example, ya dumb!"

"…says the dumb himself!"

"…An' that's just the beginnin'," Khelgar continued, looking at Adele and ignoring Neeshka. "It's said that if the wearer also wielded the Hammer of Ironfist, he could fell dragons with one blow!" he was silent for a while, then shrugged. "Well, it's said so… It must be a good sign that I've found them. It must mean that the Ironfist clan shall reclaim ar home."

"Well, I'm not much of a prophet, but… maybe," Adele shrugged and looked around again, her gaze traveling over the stone vault so high above their heads that it was almost indiscernible in the darkness. "It must have been beautiful here, when all the torches were alight and all that…"

"Aye," Khelgar nodded slowly. "An' to think, I never would have come here, if ya had not brought me into these mountains..."

"Brought?!" Adele laughed. "Please! I was afraid that you'd get here before me, seeing how eager you were to deal with orcs."

Khelgar chuckled: "Ya know, lass… I'm thinkin' ya should take the gauntlets."

"Wh-? No, I can't! You keep them; they belong to your clan after all."

The dwarf looked down at the gauntlets again and smirked, a little abashed: "…I'm far from bein' a king… but it means a lot to me that ya think I'm worthy enough to wear them. I mean it," he stood up, clearing his throat uncomfortably, and raised his voice: "So, I say we go back to Khulmar! Seein' that the tunnel 's sealed…"

"Aw, Stumpy," Neeshka cooed, seeming somewhat touched. "You have tears."

"Shut up," Khelgar growled lowly, without looking at her.

"Now how in the Hells am I supposed to steal those things from you?"

"Shut up!"


…Adele watched Khelgar talking to his kin with a slight smile. She was glad to see how anger and grudge was bit by bit vanishing between them. Though she still couldn't get why they were so angry in the first place, she accepted it as a simple fact. After all, what did she know about dwarves and their relationships within the clan?

Maybe that priest in the Temple of Tyr was right about those trials…

Maimed…

Not that she put much thought into what he had explained to Khelgar – only as much as it took to understand things that were important to her friend. She herself was never going to follow Tyr. She didn't mind the god himself or his followers – it was just that one of her own rules in life was "don't judge".

Because the coin always had two sides. What you think right might be unacceptable to others. All people are different. Simple as that.

Well, except for the thing that it was hard. It was hard when during gythianki attack on West Harbour she found Wyl Mossfeld wounded and bleeding. But alive. Where Amie, her sweet Amie had died, burnt to singes by a blasted gith mage – Wyl Mossfeld, that sorry excuse for a human being, was still alive. For years he insulted her, tried desperately to get under her skin and when she didn't react, began trying to get to her through Bevil and Amie. The guy constantly forced his two younger brothers act the same way he did, probably just because he didn't want to be the only one so ridiculously "bad and tough". Just the day before he broke Amie's face with a club during the Harvest Brawl. And now… wounded, yet alive. What had he done to deserve life where Amie got only death? Nothing. He simply lived. And Amie simply died. Shit happens. Go speak of justice…

It took all her self-control to ignore the whisper inside that suggested leaving him there, leaving him to his last breath – or even slit his throat, so easily it could have been, imply her justice on him… out of disdain, not out of hatred. Really, she never hated him, he was too pitiful to deserve hatred.

Probably, he read it all in her face. And she saved him. She still didn't know what it was, that made her save him – perhaps, that he asked about his brothers, giving a damn about them after all. She even visited him in the field-ambulance Brother Merring organized inside of one of the barns after the attack. To check the state of his health. And taking some cold macabre pleasure in seeing the humiliation burning in his eyes, he himself all too aware of being alive only because of her mercy. Her, of all people! She said she was leaving to Neverwinter. He hissed her safe travel. Not another word was said between them, but they both knew – in this long bloodless battle she finally won without striking a blow.

"Are ya good to keep travelin' these mountains?" she heard Khelgar asked his brothers. "If ya want I could…"

"Our wounds have healed, and you've already given us enough aid. Perhaps we were too quick to judge your allies, Khelgar," Khulmar turned to them and bowed his head. "The Ironfist clan is in your debt, this I swear to you in stone and steel. Such a debt shall not be forgotten in days to come."

"Wow," Neeshka muttered and nudged Khelgar. "That counts me too, eh?"

The dwarf grinded his teeth but remained silent. Khulmar looked back at him: "And Khelgar, if your path lies with them, so be it. But the clan shall await your return."

"It shall not be long, I think, Khulmar," he nodded at Adele. "S'meone just needs to watch out for this little one. She has so many problems – she'd be in a grave already without me."

Adele shook her head: "I'll just pretend I didn't get whom you mean."

"Very well, Khelgar," Khulmar agreed. "May stone shield you from the sky and ale always be at your hand…" he grinned. "But not too much ale. You know how you get after the twelfth tankard," he waved his hand to the rest of the dwarves. "We are leaving, brothers."

"Eh…" Khelgar sighed, following them with his eyes as the dwarves headed up in the mountains. "Whatever ya say, it was good to see 'em again after all this time… So," he looked at the others and grinned, "are we ready to crack some more sculls?"

"Are we ready to continue our way to civilization is a better question!" Qara groaned, mounting on her horse.

Neeshka silently mimicked her and snickered, getting into her own saddle. Grobnar was circling around Elanee, explaining her something, and the druid's face was slowly becoming alarmed with understanding that the gnome made up his mind to travel on her horse this time. The sight made Adele smile and, as they all followed Casavir on their way, she looked down at Khelgar, pacing beside her. The dwarf's face was thoughtful.

"So, big step towards monk, huh?" she asked quietly.

"…Yeah," Khelgar grunted.

"Feel yourself clarified?"

"Dunno, to tell honest…"

"Well, you are going the right way, so it seems," she smiled again. "Doesn't that gladden you?"

"…At least, I met my kin on this way, which's good. And 'tis ya who brought me this way."

"Nah. Maybe it's Fate or something."

"…Maybe. Fate that we met."

"That we all met," Adele pointed. "We wouldn't have got inside of your clanhold without Grobnar… and Neeshka."

"Bah, again ya 'bout her! I… she…" he gritted his teeth. "Alright, she's worth-while. Sometimes. For a demon. But still, most of the time I want to smack her pate! But in general tieflings are-"

"How can you know what tieflings are? It's not like you've met all of them. You've met only Neeshka. And she is "worth-while", as you said."

"Pfft… An' what?" he grumbled, but his face became thoughtful again.

"I mean, why judge anybody if he hadn't done anything bad to you. And especially after he did some good."

"…Eh… maybe…"

"Well, Elanee, for example. What did she do to displease you?"

"Nothing, actually. The lass 's quiet, doesn't bother anyone. Well, she's an elf, but… Nah, nothin', just kinda surprised myself that I'm not pissed off by an elf. But she still needs to put on some weight – an' fast. Imagine her in breeches with those bony legs… Bah, makes ma stomach churn!"

Adele grinned, still looking at him. Khelgar didn't tear his gaze away from the path.

"You know," the woman drawled. "It may sound crazy, but I think you've just met the Trial of the Even-Handed."

"Huh? Did I?" he huffed. "Why I never notice? Ya sure?"

"Well, I think so…" she grinned and nodded at Casavir ahead. "There's a specialist, by the way."

"Riiiiiiight!" the dwarf smiled broadly and quickened his pace to catch up with the paladin. "Hey ya, lad!"

"Yes?" Casavir turned slightly. "Is there something you wish of me?"

"I do! I need ya to explain me somethin'! An' thoroughly!"