Chapter 10 – Of Mages and Manners

Fifty-feet above the ground, clinging to a glass-smooth stone wall, Daelynn peered through the fissure. She found herself looking into a room. A warm tingling in her ears let her know that her Spider Climb spell was waning.

Should have grabbed a bigger spider, she chided herself.

Scurrying inside, Daelynn's saw no immediate threats in the dimly lit room. Not even bats.

The room was bare of furnishings. Dead leaves covered the flagstone floor. At the far side of the room, about twenty feet from the crack in the wall through which she had entered, was a doorway.

Daelynn cautiously crossed the room and peered through the opening. Her darkvision showed her a winding staircase leading downward into darkness.

Returning to the "window", Daelynn removed the rope and grapple from her belt. Attaching the rope to the grapple, she hooked the grapple to the base of the fissure, which was near the floor, and wedged the rope in the bottom of the fissure. She looked out the opening in the wall and saw Garlt and Stefane standing at the base of the spire. She dropped the line to her two companions.

She couldn't hear anything from below but it appeared the two males were having an animated conversation. Neither seemed to notice the rope hanging beside them. Arm gestures, hand waving and a foot stomp by the dwarf indicated that their conversation was getting heated.

Daelynn picked up a small piece of rock that had broken off the edge of the crack in the wall. Tossing the rock through the crack, she watched it fall. It struck the dwarf on his head.

Looking up, Garlt shook a fist at the elf.

Daelynn watched as he pointed to the pile of gear at the foot of the tower, grabbed the rope, and began climbing.

As the dwarf clambered upward, Stefane spread out what looked like a bright blue cloak, on the ground, placed the assorted gear on it, folded the cloak over and tied it all up with the end of the dangling rope.

As Garlt neared the fissure, Daelynn placed a foot on the rope, bent over and extend a hand to the huffing and puffing dwarf.

Grasping the proffered forearm, Garlt heaved himself up and into the fissure. Dropping into the gloomy room, the dwarf nodded his thanks to the elf, stepped to one side and sat down to catch his breath.

"Is that a bat", he panted?

Daelynn quickly looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there.

"A difficult climb with two axes strapped to your back, Master Gemfinder", observed the Herald.

"Unlike ye, elf, I've no desire to enter a place called 'The Witches Claw' without a weapon!"

"I have told you before, Master Dwarf, I am never unarmed."

She pointed to the long knife strapped to her left thigh.

"Mmm. Knives. Requires ye to be too close to yer opponent", offered Garlt. "I prefer a long-handled axe. An' a shield."

"What were you and Stefane discussing", she asked?

"Oh, ye'll see. But best ye don't laugh when ye do. Seems to upset the lad."

Half a head came into view through the fissure.

"Help!" Stefane squeaked.

Garlt half stood, reached back and pulled a small sharp rock out from beneath him. Tossing the stone aside, he sat back down.

Daelynn gave Garlt a disdainful look.

"What?" Queried the dwarf. "He's a lot younger than me."

Daelynn moved back to the fissure, reached down, grabbed Stefane by his jerkin, and helped the young man inside.

After the dwarf and human had recovered from their climb, the two of them hauled the heavy bundle up the side of the tower.

Daelynn untied their gear, collected her boots, cloak and sword, then coiled the rope, leaving it in a neat pile on the floor.

"Not takin' thet with us", asked Garlt. "Rope could be useful".

"We may need a quick exit. Best to leave it here, ready for use. If we need extra rope, I am sure that Stefane can conjure some vines with his rod."

Stefane, pulling his gear out of the pile, nodded in agreement.

Garlt, having taken off the harness and belts that held his two axes against his back, retrieved a long chainmail shirt from the pile. He quickly donned it over his leathers, replacing the harness and belting the chain shirt snuggly against his body. He pulled a leather cap from the quickly diminishing pile of gear. Leaving the chainmail hood to hang down his back, the dwarf put the cap on and slipped one axe back into the harness along his back. The second axe he leaned against a nearby wall, which freed his hands to tie a polished steel and silver oval disc onto his left forearm.

The disc was the size of a small dinner plate and looked incongruous when compared to the dwarf's worn and functional fighting ensemble.

Stefane pointed to the oval disc on the dwarf's left arm. "What is its purpose? It's too small to act even as a buckler."

"I dunna recall its proper name. I call it me 'Shield of Many Sizes'. Look here, lad. I jest rub it like this, say the magic word, and… poof… it grows."

Garlt rubbed the metal disc, mumbled something neither the mage nor the elf could make out, and in the blink of an eye the disc shifted its appearance and size, now appearing as a sturdy buckler strapped to the dwarf's forearm.

"I dunna use this form of it too much. Prefer something a bit bigger. So…"

Briskly rubbing the surface of the buckler, Garlt again mumbled a command. The device changed its size and appearance once more, becoming a stout metal dwarven round shield.

"Fer narrow hallways an' stairwells, such as we seem to have here, this size'll do", stated Garlt. "But if I were out in the open an' needin' more protection, I can make it a kite shield or even a dwarven tower shield. Basically, lad, the faster and harder ye rub it, the bigger it gets. Heh, heh. Much like somethin' else ye may be familiar with. What I am referring to is yer own…"

"I get it!" Stated Stefane, emphatically.

"Ah, now I remember the name of the device. It's called a 'Dwarven Shield of…"

Daelynn cut off what the dwarf was saying by pointing to the pile of gear and ordering Stefane to finish gather his belongings.

The young man put his Rod of Vines, a satchel, and his spell book aside. He handed waterskins to the elf and dwarf, and picked up the blue fabric that had held their gear. Sweeping the material over his head, he slipped into what now clearly could be seen to be a robe. Pulling a hat from a pocket of the robe, he donned it, placed his spell book in the satchel, and threw it over a shoulder. Grasping the metal Rod and standing tall, he turned to his two companions, arms spread wide.

The dwarf snorted. The elf tried and failed to hide a small laugh.

The dark blue robe Stefane wore, adorned with glittering silver stars, moons and meaningless runic symbols, was ill-fitting and much too short. The tall hat, similarly decorated, flopped to one side, half covering his face.

He looked ridiculous, thought Daelynn.

The dwarf was more vocal.

"Ye look like an idiot. Like some carnival barker. Or a character in a bad play 'bout wizards."

Daelynn, regaining her composure, asked, "Is that what the well-dressed mage is wearing this season in Capitol?"

Red-faced, Stefane stood defiant. "These are the robes of a mage of the Brilliane Academy! It is fitting that I wear them as we near the end of my quest."

"Suit yerself, lad", grumbled the dwarf. "I suppose ye want me ta lead, elf?"

"Absolutely, Master Gemfinder", responded Daelynn. "Stefane will follow and I will guard our rear."

"Oh, Stefane. It is dark below. The dwarf and I have darkvision. I can cast a spell that will grant you the same ability, if you will let me? I would rather not be carrying torches or casting light spells until we know more about where we are."

Stefane eagerly stepped closer to the elf. "Thank you, Herald! I'll gladly accept that. I've always been a little envious of the demi-human ability to see in the dark."

Daelynn, one hand raised in preparation to cast a spell, froze. Garlt, who had been facing the doorway, slowly turned to face the young human.

"What the effin' hell did ye jest call us?"

Confused, Stefane looked from the glaring dwarf to the frosty-faced elf.

"Um, 'demi-humans'?"

"That's what I thought I heard. So, which is it? Ye're ignorant? Racist? Or jest plain stupid?"

"Is that term not… ah, not, appropriate?" Stammered Stefane.

"Ignorant, it would seem", declared Daelynn.

"'Demi-human' is not a word I'd be usin' in the presence o' elves or dwarves. Hin neither, for that matter", growled Garlt.

"Calling another being 'demi-'anything, or 'partly human', is an insult. As if the appearance of dwarves and elves owe anything to humankind. We are the elder races. Show some respect! Elves, Dwarves, Hin, and Humans, are all member races of The Peoples", stated Daelynn.

"See boyo, if ye were ta be called a 'demi-dwarf' it'd make no sense. Same with 'demi-human'. But over the centuries 'demi-human' comes ta be a term o' disdain. Polite company might look the other way, buy I ain't polite!"

Stefane met each of his companion's eyes and nodded his understanding. "My... my apologies, Master Dwarf and Lady Herald. I meant no disrespect."

"In that case then lad, none taken." Garlt turned back to the doorway. Hefting his axe and setting his shield, he stepped forward onto the stairs.

"Ready?"

Daelynn placed a cool hand over Stefane's eyes and whispered a soft word in Elvish.

"Ready", she answered.

The three companions moved forward and silently started down the dark, winding staircase.