1. Farewells

Year 1165 AS.
Springrise, 5th day.
Morning


The village of Willowbrook lay behind them, shrouded in a blanket of mist and melancholy. The narrow, dirt-packed south road wound away from the familiar, past fields worked by hands they had known all of their lives. It felt like a severance, a final farewell to the simple certainties of home.

Faramos, the Wild, walked at the front, his broad shoulders clad in a cloak of roughspun wool, dark against the muted greys of the sky. His eyes, sharp and untamed, scanned the horizon constantly, ever vigilant. A hunter by nature, Faramos seemed almost to meld with the landscape, his movements fluid and silent.

Brenda, the Shieldmaiden, followed a few paces behind. Her shield, worn but sturdy, hung across her back, the metal gleaming dully in the faint light that pierced the thick clouds. Her stride was purposeful, each step resonating with the unyielding determination that had earned her reputation. Her hand occasionally brushed the hilt of her sword, a comforting presence amid the uncertainty.The weather was cool, a welcome respite from yesterday's heat. The thick clouds loomed above, casting a muted glow over the landscape. A light breeze rustled through the bushes and flowers that dotted the roadside, bringing with it the scents of wild thyme and damp earth. The road ahead was empty, stretching into the lush plains like a ribbon of uncertainty.

"We should reach the clearing by midday," Brenda said, breaking the silence. Her voice was low. "We can choose our next destination as we get there."

Faramos nodded, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the distant hills. "Let’s hope the weather holds. Rain would slow us down and make the road treacherous. These plains can be unforgiving in a storm."

Brenda grunted in agreement, her attention already shifting back to their surroundings. "Keep your eyes open. This stretch is often quiet, but you never know."

Faramos wished he would feel more sadness, melancholy even... of leaving the place that he spent so many years in. 'Willowbrook' - somehow sounded like home... it should sound like home... but deep inside... Faramos knew that it's not 'his place'. He was kind-of accepted by local community. Some of the people he would even call friends. But many still treated him as someone 'different'... outsider... and not only 'regular outsider' that sometimes have came to Willowbrook... he was - to them - somehow tainted by the Whispering Woods... they felt it... and he felt it too... he was not an ordinary dwarf any more... and this fact made many of them feel... uneasiness... fear even.

Trying to be honest with himself Faromos had to admit... that he felt similar things about himself too.

The change has started... something started to develop within him... and he couldn't oust it any more. He had to leave. He know that well enough.

The only person he knew he would really miss will be Brenda's father - Brandon. The only person that somehow never have made Faramos feel different. At Brandon's home - Faramos always felt like ordinary dwarf-boy. And Brandon was like father to him, ever since he came back from the forest. Someday - he promised to himself - he will get back to Willowbrook and he will fund the Oldman a mill and repay all of his kindness! Make the man not worry about his future like he used to. Mostly about Faromos and Brenda future. But he will not have to worry about anything anymore... when Faromos will return as wealthy dwarven merchant... or... famous general... or... whatever fates has planed for him...

Little did he know that forest spirits had different plan for him....

---

Faromos nodded in silence to Brenda's righteous remark about their surrounding. He was focused. They have just left for their big journey. They can't make mistakes so soon.

But he also couldn't help to let himself a little smile on his face:
Damn Mist... it trapped us so hard... that we don't even know how the ordinary road looks like few kilometers away... like children in the fog... indeed. So how are we going to discover the whole world...?

He make himself look serious again - not knowing if Brenda noticed his smile and don't wanting to look like he is too light hearted on their journey already.

As Faramos and Brenda advanced through the plains, the sun remained hidden behind a dense layer of clouds. The cool air and overcast sky cloaked the landscape in an eerie stillness. The companions walked in silence, each lost in their thoughts, when, at the edge of a wide clearing, they saw a sturdy stone platform perched atop a rocky outcrop. Standing at its peak was a stocky dwarf, his beard gleaming in the sun and his eyes alight with mischief. He was engrossed in his own revelry, drinking some beer, and hadn't noticed them yet.

Faramos eyes become suddenly big and wide and reveal a great surprise that he was feeling inside at the moment of noticing that the man they have noticed is one of his kind. He didn't see another dwarf for many years now. But he managed to stay silent, and just nudged Brenda with his elbow, made a sign meaning to keep the silence and not reveal themself to soon, showed here the dwarf with his finger and started to walk towards him, trying to not make to much noise, but don't look like someone sneaking. He hoped to see or even hear what the dwarf is doing before the distance between them will be too close.

Words 'awaken' and 'tormentor' made Faramos somehow uneasy. But maybe it is how mocking done by dwarfs look like? He wasn't sure. So he looked at Brenda to see what her face reveal about the situation and 'friendly dwarf' and stopped his steps. He shouted to Brukir keeping his distance:
"We welcome you Master... Brukir! But... before we get closer to you... can you say what are you doing here all by yourself and what exactly you expect of us?" - Faramos wonderer if he still sounded dwarf-like or has become so reasonable and cautious as most humans that he knows...

Faramos hearing that the whole thing is about 'some tests' relaxed a little. At last the first person they meet on their road was less probable to be of magical kind or wilder of forbidden arts. And as they say in Willowbrook:
'The word out there has to be really magical... I wish I could see it... but remember the magic itself is very dangerous!' - Faramos smiled again thinking how preposterous now it sounded in his head.

He said with lowered voice to Brenda:
"Hmmm... he wants to test us. It's sounds better than 'kill' or 'rob' us... don't you think?" - he smiled once more, but it was more to give himself some additional courage, rather than thinking the situation should be taken lightly.

They certainly didn't know what they should expect from stranger. Then with raised voice so Brukir could hear him, while resuming his steps towards him - but not too fast - Faramos shouted trying to sound as easy going as Brukir:

"I don't think we have to prove anything to you Master Brukir. As from now on we only answer before our conscience and the laws of nature. But I think" - Faramos looked at Brenda - "we can spend some time getting to know and entertain a noble, but bored - as I presume - traveller... and our selfs. As long as your tests won't require me drinking some ale..." - and with those words Faramos continued his slow, but cautious approach to the dwarf that claimed to be a guard of those roads.

The insinuation that he is not a real dwarf started to get on Faramos nerves and made him a little enraged... but he considered that a little rage before test of pure strength couldn't hurt, so he decided to play along with it and not to stay indebted to Brukir with light insults:
"I may know about my kin much less then I would like to... Master Brukir..." - Faramos said with his voice getting increasingly rough and defiant with each word.

Faromos detached his staff from his back and handed it to Brenda if she is willing to hold it for the time of his wrestle match. If not he would simply throw it on the ground. But he left his hunting knife attached at his back to/under his belt... just in case, Brukir wasn't planing to play fair. Then he continued his speech, making a few energetic but still cautious steps towards overconfident dwarf:

"But... if all that makes a true dwarf is drinking ale... than my complete lack of fear towards you is fully justified!" - he said with - this time - openly defiant voice, while making few more steps towards Brukir then few more that started to circle around his oponent, adopting the proper stance for a wrestling match and getting ready for their first clash.

Brukir drops his weapons and advances. As soon as he reaches arm's length, though, Faramos acts faster than Brukir expected.

"So... Master... Brukir..." - Faramos said through gritted teeth, while trying to undercut Brukir and throw him on the ground.

With a roar, the dwarf charged, and Faramos met him head-on. The ground seemed to shake beneath their feet as they grappled, each straining against the other’s strength.

Faramos dug his heels into the earth, his muscles bulging as he fought to gain the upper hand. Brukir was relentless, his grip like iron, but Faramos’s strength and experience began to show. With a deft twist, he managed to throw Brukir off balance, pinning him to the ground.

Being a little surprised at first that he managed to outsmart his oponent and throw him on the ground so soon - for a split second - Faramos instinctively decided to not loose his advantage.

"HOW is..." - Farams stoped mid sentence to made a meaningful headbutt to the pinned Master Tormentor, apparently to underscore his stance on the subject - 'just as dwarves used to do' as he felt - "... your ALE working for you now?"

Brukir had not expected such a sudden and fierce counterattack. Faramos's headbutt connected with brutal force, and a sickening crunch echoed through the clearing.

Brukir's head snapped back, and he let out a guttural cry, a spray of blood and broken teeth flying from his mouth. His eyes rolled back, and with a groan, he slumped into unconsciousness.

"Well..." - said Brenda - "I didn't expect you to overpower him so quickly."

She glanced at the fallen dwarf, noting the blood and broken teeth. "Looks like you proved your strength and then some. What should we do?"

"Huh!? Master Brukir!?! How..." - Faramos grabbed the older dwarf and tried to rise him for another hit.

"How does... " - his voice cut off instantly. Gripped by a fighting frenzy only now Faramos realized that his opponent is already unconsciousness.

He immediately let go the loose body and wipes the blood from his forehead, looks with a little worry on the red on his hands, then again on lying body, finally with wide eyes at Brenda.

When he heard what she said:
"What...? I didn't want to hurt him... it's just... I felt this rage... I didn't even know I became so strong..." - he sat crosslegged on the ground visibly not happy about his deed.

"Well I guess... it's not the best way to befriend one of your kin... especially when you haven't seen one of your kind for so many years." - he collected himself a little by this point - "But... apparently it's what he was asking for. I think it's simple: we tend to his wounds" - he collected the laying teeth from the ground and closed it in his hand - "wait for him to come to his senses, assume that he will have enough 'tests' for a day and ask for some directions. I don't think it's where he lives? He must have been on the journey of his own? What you think?"

Faramos looked around if they could find any other equipment of his former opponent that could help him indicate who he really was and then drag Brukir on the stone platform and start to tend his wounds.

Faramos finds that Brukir has a warhammer, light crossbow, studded leather armor, throwing axe, bronze drinking tankard, 1x field rations, waterskin (with 2 units of water), 1 unit of arrows/bolts (iron head) and a quiver.

"There may be some tracks or hints around here to tell us where he came from, but he seems to be on his own. We can surely tend and ask him that. Let me help you with that..." - said Brenda, as she went to the stone platform and start to tend Brukir’s wounds.

Faramos and Brenda quickly knelt beside Brukir, the initial shock of the confrontation giving way to concern. Faramos tore a strip of cloth and began to staunch the bleeding from Brukir's mouth, while Brenda carefully inspected the dwarf for other injuries.

"Easy now," Brenda murmured as she gently tilted Brukir's head to the side, ensuring he could breathe easily.

Faramos, his hands steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through him, worked quickly to clean the blood from Brukir's face. He found some clean water from Brukir’s pack and carefully dribbled it onto the dwarf's lips.

After a few tense moments, Brukir's eyelids fluttered, and he let out a low groan. His eyes slowly opened, dazed and unfocused at first. As consciousness returned, pain etched itself across his features, and he winced, reaching up to touch his broken teeth.

"Ah, that was a good hit," Brukir muttered, his voice slurred from the injury. He tried to sit up, and Brenda helped steady him.

"You've got more fight in you than I thought." Brukir said and chuckled weakly, his hand still pressed to his mouth. His lips were swollen and tingling. "So... No hard feelings. You passed the first test. And I see you healed me, so we can skip the second one. That's surely a demonstration of skill."

"What’s the final test?" - asked Brenda, confused about this single minded dwarf and his so called 'tests'

The dwarf’s swollen grin turned cunning. "A riddle. Answer correctly, and you’ll have proven your wit."

The dwarf’s eyes twinkled as he spoke.

"With bark for skin and roots for feet,
I roam the forest, my secrets deep.
Guardian of green, tender in care,
Yet wrathful avenger, a village beware.

Firstborn of Clay, with ancient might,
In elven tongue, I share my plight.
Strong as the oak, slow but grand,
Who am I, who roams this land?"

Faromos puzzled eyes have meet those of Brenda - just when she asked about the question for final test. Faramos listened with great concentration...

"Woh... you are really focused on your tests Master Brukir... and this riddle... is not an easy one... I must admit... I think... I don't..." - Faramos was just about to admit his defeat in final test of this strange dwarf.

But... then he felt something... was it a cold stream of air... a breeze... a sudden feeling of firm connection with the ground... a distant call of lost bird in surrounding hight grass? But Faramos vision started too cloud... getting dim... and then completely dark...

He wasn't at the warm but cloudy plains any more. He was in cold, dump and grim forest. In the middle of starless night. Again. Like in his many dreams since he got back from his absence. He was hiding under some rock covered with bushes. There was something with him in the forest. He felt it. He feared it. He held his breath not to be heard by it. But he was waiting. And wait seamed to take ages. Suddenly... as from nowhere... a big tree-like leg appeared 1 meter before him. And then... the being bended and peered right into his hiding place, eyes red with rage...

All disappeared. He was once again on the plains with Brenda looking at him worried and Brukir with eyes full of winner satisfaction.

"No. I know who you are. You are an Ent. Master Brukir." - said Faramos with low vice, still looking like one who just saw a ghost, realizing that his head - also - started to hurt him like it would want to explode.