Gorgandr's Cave

Schalen stood near the pub, keeping his face down and hood up, covering his eyes. His cloak covered most of his clothing. It was hard to stay hidden, as a dragonborn—a seven-foot-tall-half-dragon—but as long as he stayed in the shadows, he should be fine.

“I thought I told you to go in without me,” Chippy said. He was an elf, so a foot shorter than Schalen. He kept his hood down, and his long hair reflected the moonlight.

“I decided to wait,” said Schalen.

“You’re procrastinating. You know you are. You really don’t want to go in there, do you?”

“Not really. I swore I’d never return.”

“Rak has been dead for seven years. Without him and his gang, you’re a hero around here.”

“I don’t know,” Schalen tried to take a peak into the pub. There was a mix of dragonborns, elves, humans, and dwarves. “Fine,” he decided. “Let’s go in.”

When Schalen didn’t move an inch, Chippy said, “Are you going to go in?”

“You first.”

“No way. You’re going to leave when I’m not looking.”

“I promise I won’t.”

“I see your fingers crossing behind your back.”

“Dang it. Fine.”

When Schalen still didn’t move, Chippy pushed him, and before they could make a scene, Schalen decided to start walking into the pub.

Schalen recognized some of the people, and he knew they would recognize him, so he kept his face down, hoping no one would bother taking a closer look. The tables were practically filled with mixed species, all laughing and talking and having a blast. But Schalen wasn’t here to be merry.

He and Chippy sat at a small, empty table toward the back. Schalen sat down so his back was toward everybody else. Chippy sat in front of him.

“What’s the plan, sir?” Chippy asked.

“We need to find a human named Fenr. He knows where Gorgandr’s Cave is. I know he’s in here, but he switches between tables often, so I’m not sure where he’d be.”

“The bartender probably knows.”

“No way. Loknir will definitely announce my presence here. And I can’t go looking around for Fenr, either. Someone is going to spot me if I’m looking around for so long.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Maybe you can go find him, Chippy.”

“Me? I don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Well, as I said, he’s a human. He’s somewhere in his fifties, I think. Wait, no, he was in his fifties twenty years ago.”

“Your saying he’s seventy?”

“I think so. I haven’t been here in twenty years. The only thing that keeps changing are the humans because of their short life—”

“Wait, I thought it’d been seven years since you been.”

“No, twenty. It’s why I left—because Rak was still there. We were rivals, and he was the nastier, more ruthless one.”

“That makes sense, but it really means you have no idea if Fenr really is here.”

“Well… yes.”

“Then you whole plan has gone down the drain, Schalen!”

“I’m sure he’s still alive. Human’s don’t live that short.”

“He could have been killed!”

“I’m saying we’ll be fine, Chippy, just quiet down so no one hears us.”

Chippy looked around. There were a few people taking a look over at their table with puzzled looks. Chippy hoped his expression didn’t show worry or guilt, otherwise Schalen would know there are people watching.

Fortunately, Schalen didn’t know, but he did ask Chippy, “Is there anyone watching?”

It took Chippy a moment to know how to respond. “Thankfully, no.” Luckily, Chippy was good at lying, and Schalen didn’t think anything of his response.

“You go ask Loknir where Fenr is,” Schalen said.

“You mean the bartender?”

“Yes I mean the bartender, now go!”

Chippy stood up and went to the counter where Loknir, the Dwarf bartender was. Short, but large, strong, and a big beard that was half his height. Loknir acknowledged Chippy’s presence, but didn’t smile. But he wasn’t unpleasant, he was just simply studying Chippy, as Chippy was new to these parts.

“Who are you, lad?”

“I’m Chippy. I’m told you’re Loknir?”

“Yes, I am. When can I get you today?”

“Nothing for me, thank you. I’m looking for someone.”

“And who might that be?”

“A human named Fenr.”

Loknir thought a moment before he responded. “Who sent you?”

“How did you know someone sent me?”

“Only people who live ‘round here know Fenr’s name. And I know you don’t live around here. Lemme see…” Loknir studied Chippy a moment longer. “Fine hair, expensive clothes, polished shoes, charming smile. You must be from Austorya.”

Chippy nodded. “A dragonborn named Schalen sent me.”

Loknir’s eyebrows raised. Not in surprise, but it was like he had been expecting a response like that at some point in his life. “He’s been gone from this pub, maybe even this country for over twenty years. But I will tell you. Fenr is over there—” he pointed to a table in the middle of the room. “Grey hair and beard, red tunic. You see him?”

Chippy spotted the human and nodded. “Thank you, Loknir.”

“You’re welcome,” Loknir said with a grin. His smile faded as Chippy didn’t go toward Fenr, but to the back. Little did he know, Schalen was there.

“I know where he is,” Chippy said.

“Good. Go get him, tell him to be quiet, but I’m here and in need of assistance.”

Chippy sighed as he left. He didn’t like being the one depended on here. But he did as Schalen said, finding the human named Fenr and tapping him on the shoulder.

Fenr turned to look at Chippy. “Who might you be?”

“I’ve been sent by a man you know.”

“Okay?”

Chippy sat down and whispered to Fenr. “Don’t say anything, but Schalen is here in this pub, and in need of your assistance.”

Fenr nodded. He was careful to not show expression, because there was people at the same table watching the conversation curiously.

Chippy stood up and started walking. Fenr got up too, very, very slowly. He grabbed his cane and started following Chippy, but very slowly. Chippy had to slow his walking pace by half for Fenr to keep up. He forgot how slow old humans walked. But they were wise… for a human.

It took a minute, but Chippy finally lead Fenr to the table that Schalen was. Schalen lifted up his hood just an inch so Fenr could see his face.

“Hello, Schalen.”

“Hello, Fenr.”

“I heard from your elf buddy that you need my assistance?”

“I need to know where Gorgandr’s cave is.”

Fenr froze. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too dangerous. Gorgandr is a ruthless dragon, you know this. Not to mention his giant bodyguards.”

“You mean he has big bodyguards or that his bodyguards are giants?” asked Chippy.

“Both,” Fenr said. “Anyway, it’s too risky, and if I disclose it’s location, I know you aren’t going to take a second moment to know where you’re going next. You’re going to die.”

“I need this, Fenr,” Schalen said. “I can reason with him. And if he eats me, it would be cannibalism.”

Chippy interrupted. “You mean half cannibalism?”

Schalen ignored him. “And I speak Draconic. Very fluently. You know he doesn’t speak English, or Common very well.”

Fenr considered this for a moment. “Fine. I’ll tell you. But you need to have as much help as you can get. Get a wizard on your side.”

“He doesn’t trust magic.”

“I know. Hide the wizard, I don’t know. Use your head.”

“Well, if I—”

An elf from a table next to them interrupted their conversation. “Good golly,” he said. “It’s Schalen!”

The whole pub went silent, looking to the table in the back. Some stood up to see him, but no one could. Schalen kept his head down, hoping that they wouldn’t recognize him if he went out of character from what they knew.

Loknir left his post behind the counter and walked to the table. He threw back Schalen’s hood. “Well, I’ll be. It is Schalen!” Loknir took Schalen by the arm and pulled him from his chair, then turned him to face the rest of the pub, the dozens watching him, gasping and whispering.

Schalen didn’t show any expression on his face. But he didn’t look at anyone. He kept his face down, eyes to the floor. The crowd in the pub was in suspense now, waiting for him to do something. Schalen’s old self would collect fame gloriously, give a charming smile, and start an applause in the crowd like a celebrity. But he wasn’t that person anymore. Twenty years away had changed him. And the crowd didn’t know what was going to happen next, if he wasn’t going to be the famous dragonborn they knew.

“Why the long face, Schalen?” Loknir asked “You’re here! And Rak is dead! You have nothing to be—”

Someone in the crowd spat loudly, and it sizzled on the ground. Schalen knew before he looked up it was a dragonborn. The crowd parted so the one who had spat was in clear view to everyone, including Schalen. The dragonborn had heavy armor and a sword on his side.

“Schalen,” the dragonborn said tauntingly as he spat again. “You were my father’s worst enemy.”

“That depends on who your father is,” Schalen said quietly.

“I am Xak, son of Rak. You have anything to explain yourself here? My father’s death does not delete the oath you swore to never return to this pub and this country. He defeated you, and you know it.”

Schalen still spoke quietly. “I had to speak with Fenr.”

“And yet, you ran into me. Now, I know that the deal was because you were defeated by my father, you were to leave.” He waited for Schalen to nod before he continued. “And because you returned, you are to die.”

The crowd in the pub started pushing the center tables and chairs to the wall, preparing space for a battle.

“I wasn’t here to fight,” Schalen said. “I just need get some information from Fenr and go. I promise after that, I’ll—”

“You broke your first promise,” Xak said. “Who’s to say you won’t break the second?”

“I won’t fight. I’ll surrender before I shed any blood or let you shed mine.”

Xak raised his eyebrow a notch. “You’ve changed, Schalen.” He spat again. “You’re not the attention loving dragonborn you used to be.”

“I know,” Schalen said. “Amazing what twenty years in Austorya can do to you.”

Xak shook his head slowly. “We both know it’s not that. My father got into your head, didn’t he?” When Schalen didn’t say anything, Xak nodded tauntingly. “Now we fight, no excuses.”

People started drumming on the tables. The tradition was that there would be forty-nine drums, and then the duel would begin.

Schalen started preparing mentally. He hadn’t fought anyone since he left his country. He and Rak fought every time they crossed paths, mostly in the pub. He was sure he was going to be rusty. So he’d definitely be injured, if not dead, by the end of this match.

“Quick, tell me where it is,” Schalen whispered to Fenr.

“It’s in the Snowcapploaded Mountains, to the East, and at the bottom. You won’t need climbing gear. It’s hidden behind a forest, and when you get to a wall, say ‘danger awaits’ in Draconic. But promise me you’ll be careful. There, but also in this duel.”

Schalen nodded, and the forty-ninth drum sounded, declaring the beginning of the match.

Xak started charging to Schalen with claws out. Schalen threw him aside, and he crashed into some tables. While Xak was getting back up, Schalen sprinted for the door. Before he get their, though, Xak had tackled him and started to punch him repeatedly. Schalen caught Xak’s fist before he could break his jaw, and then used it to roll them over so Schalen was on top of Xak, standing up and in turn kicking Xak in the face.

Before Xak could recover, Schalen ran out the door.

Schalen was already twenty feet away from the pub when he realized Chippy was still in the pub. He turned around and found he had realized to late. Xak was holding Chippy hostage with one arm, and put a sharp claw to his neck with the other.

Xak laughed. “It’s his life or yours. And if you choose your life, chances are you might lose it anyway. So give in your life now, and he’ll be free.”

“Run, Schalen!” Chippy yelled.

Xak slapped him. “Another word from you and you’ll be unconscious.”

Chippy pursed his lips, but with his eyes told Schalen to run before Xak could think.

Schalen didn’t know what to do. He looked from Xak to Chippy, trying to find a way for both him and Chippy live. He couldn’t think of a plan, but he knew that he could improvise well. So he stepped forward to Xak.

“A heroic move, Schalen.” Xak said. He said Chippy down as he grabbed Schalen and put a claw to his neck.

“Your claws won’t pierce me,” Schalen said.

“You’re right,” Xak said. So he unsheathed the sword from his side and raised it, ready to slice. “Any last words?”

Before Schalen could think of a way to get out, Xak swung his sword. Schalen grabbed the blade with his bare hands, and knocked Xak over. He stole the sword from him and knocked Xak out with the hilt. The crowd in the pub applauded and shouted as Schalen threw the sword to the side.

Chippy wrapped Schalen’s hands with some bandages, which immediately turned red. “That was amazing, Schalen.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“You could have killed him, you know. You still can if you choose.”

Schalen shook his head. “I can’t be enemies with Xak’s son too. If he has a son.”

“It has been twenty years.”

Schalen sighed. “I should have never come back.”