Dark Thane

Brecha made a mental note to speak to Jungor about changing the law, once his position as king was firmly established. An armed populace was a dangerous populace, independent and difficult to govern, as amply demonstrated by the scene unfolding below her. Word had spread that Tarn Bellowgranite had been captured and taken to the guard tower on the north side of the plaza. The tower lay conveniently near the Hylar district on the first level of Norbardin. It seemed that the crowd had formed largely without any express purpose-curiosity more than anything else. And no one knew yet how to react to the sudden seizure of power by Jungor Stonesinger and his allies. But in some quarters of the city, Jungor's forces had not yet gained control, especially in the fortress area of the king's residence. There were also pockets of resistance in Klar and Daergar neighborhoods.

This large mob filled Brecha with misgivings. Normally content to allow their leaders to lead them, they could turn dangerous if sufficiently provoked. Brecha didn't think it was word of Tarn's capture that had stirred them up. The king was too unpopular. Some other power was at work here, and she had quickly sent word to Jungor of the crowd gathering. She stood on the roof, her hands folded into the sleeves of her black robes, while she waited for her agents to return with their reports. Jungor was still in his home on the second level, where he and a dozen loyal Hylar leaders had gathered before coming to pay their "respects" to the captured king.

A movement of the crowd below brought Brecha to the roofs edge. A party of armed dwarves had suddenly poured out of the guard tower, joining the Hylar and Theiwar guards ringing the tower's base. As the crowd drew back, Brecha swore bitterly and slammed her fist against the stone ledge. "Fools! What idiot ordered a sortie? Surely they don't mean to force… "

Her voice dwindled away as the noise swelled up from the plaza below. The dwarves from the tower weren't joining the guards; they were attacking them! Brecha quickly spotted in their midst the unmistakable golden mane and towering frame of Tarn Bellowgranite. A massive silver warhammer gleamed in his fist as he struck right and left. Now the crowd had reversed its direction and was sweeping toward the guards battling for their lives. In moments, the Hylar and Theiwar were overwhelmed.

Brecha clutched the roof battlements to steady herself. The words to a teleportation spell came unbidden to her mind, but she hesitated. The news of Tarn's escape needed to be delivered to Jungor without delay. Yet at the same time, she was in a perfect position to strike him down from above. She knew several spells that could kill the king from this distance. But would Jungor mind if Tarn died thusly? Was it the wise thing to do?

While she hesitated, she saw that the battle was already over. Surrounded by the cheering mob, Tarn crossed the plaza and climbed the steps to the building whose roof Brecha occupied. The Theiwar thane peered between the battlements, unseen by the fickle crowd, now celebrating wildly. Brecha spotted numerous Hylar and Daewar in the crowd, even a few of her own Theiwar. Had how Tarn pulled off this unlikely resurgence?

A fireball would kill him, the Theiwar thane decided. By the time the people in the crowd recovered from the explosion, she would be long gone, lofted away on the wings of a teleport spell, and safely at Jungor's side, explaining everything. Digging a ball of bat guano from her pouch of spell components, she mouthed the words to the spell, silently rehearsing to make sure she recalled the proper cadences and pronunciations. She leaned out over the battlements, holding the ball of dung mixed with sulfur aloft, looking down contemptuously as Tarn lifted his silver warhammer above his head, drawing yet another thunderous cheer.

With her mind now focused on the magic, Brecha almost didn't hear the surprising words shouted by those below her. "The Hammer! The Hammer of Kharas!" Tarn thrust the mighty weapon over his head, holding it to its full height so that everyone in the mob could see it in his hand.

The ball of dung fell from Brecha's fingertips, the words of the spell slipped from her mind. She staggered back from the battlements, silently thanking every god that she could name that she hadn't cast that spell. The Hammer of Kharas! He who wielded that famed dwarven relic was the true king, and no dwarf would dare challenge his rule. Its powers were many and little understood. In all likelihood, her fireball would have slain everyone around Tarn but left the one holding the Hammer unharmed. She had no way of knowing, and the main thing now was that Jungor must know this news.

Whispering a quick word of magic, she brought to mind an image of Jungor Stonesinger and vanished, just as another thunderous roar swept over the battlements.

"To the Hall of Thanes!"

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