Guru

Gather around now children, as I recount a story I remember from my younger more agile years…

It was on one of my many voyages that I happened to be passing through Rune, and stopped at the Griffon Hotel for the night. I had had a long and eventful day while traveling, and I needed rest badly, but for some reason sleep was not coming easily. So I left my room and staggered to the front desk, where I inquired about the local scene in Rune. The clerk was very helpful, and told me about the many pubs that were around town. I seized his advice and took to the street. Whilst I was traveling down Yew court, a thief snuck up behind me, and placed a knife in my back.

“Give me all your gold, or else,” he stated.

“I haven’t anything of value,” I replied, but he insisted.

“Well, I am afraid you must pay somehow, not good business if I let everyone run away.” While he was babbling to himself, I unsheathed my sword and swung around fast. He was very agile and intelligent; it was no surprise that he expected this. He was quick to parry my blow, but that is when I saw a hole in his defenses. I quickly kicked at his leg sending him flat on his back. Then I fled as fast as I could down Yew court, and turned at the first intersection I could. I found myself on Main Street, following this street lead me to town square, where I quickly recounted the directions the hotel clerk gave me to the closest pub. So I headed down Main Street and turned down the first ally I saw. This led me to the Perplexed Otter; this is where my night truly got interesting.

I sat down and asked the barkeep for a beer, what I got could be mildly called a drink of some sort. Its color was strange, similar to pond scum, and the flavor truly different, similar to pond scum. I sat back, took a swig and decided this was truly relaxing. Just then a nondescript man stumbled into the bar, bleeding on everything.

“Halloo, what is this?” I asked, “What happened to you?”

“Mrrrpphhhh,” was all he could expel, and then he was out cold.

I looked up, obviously the only one who seemed to care. I could not get one person to share eye contact with me, it seems that I was alone in this pub. Seeing the general heartlessness of the patrons, I decided the best thing I could do was to yell for help. Luckily a city guard was passing by and he heard my call. He was quick to enter, and understood the graveness of the situation. We rushed the man to the healer in the Runic Temple. I waited outside to the many screams and maddening sounds that took place in the healing room. Then, after most of the agony seemed to subside in the room; the healer came out to talk to me.

“I am afraid I have some terrible news about your friend,” he said.

“To tell the truth, I just met him, but what is this news you speak of?” I replied.

“I have done as much as I can for the… man…” he seemed hesitant at this point, “but I am afraid there is little to be done, he is at his end.” At this the healer sighed.

I could feel that something more was behind his words. “What else are you not telling me?” I inquired.

“Well… whilst I was trying my best at restoring him, I came across some things that are very interesting.”

“Well out with it man…?” I implored.

“For one, your man here is not actually a man. He seems to be wearing stilts under his pants to make him taller.” He came closer to my ear and whispered, “I believe he is a dwarf, sir.”

“And…?” I asked, wondering why any dwarf would need to disguise himself as a man.

“It seems he has a tattoo on his left arm.” The healer said blankly.

“So?” I replied.

“Well it is a very ancient tattoo, only one that dwarves high up in the really old culture would have, but no dwarf I’ve seen the my life has ever had one like this.”

“So, tell me, what all is to be done with him?”

“The only thing I can suggest is to make him comfortable…” With this the healer went back into the room. I followed, and paid him for his services. Then I picked up the dwarf and walked him back to my hotel room. Laid him upon the bed and waited.

It was at this point I reflected on my own death. This is certainly how I would want it to be, in the company of a fellow warrior, as my last life’s breath were leaving me. While I was pondering this idea, the dwarf stirred. I was to my feet almost immediately.

“Graahhck,” he said slightly muffled in the pillow.

“How may I help you, sir?” I questioned.

“Ah… an Alyrian,” he stated, “I need to tell my story before my life is gone.”

“Please do,” I pushed, “I would be glad to pass your story on to generations that come after both you and I.”

His voice was very gruff, and his grasp of the Alyrian language was a little muddled, but I will try to recount as much of his story as I can here:

The Dwarf warrior’s name was Guru; he was the son of Gerenuk, who happened to be King Degnar’s high general. He told of when he was mere child, how the dwarfish empire sprawled all over the place. He used to spend time at his fathers side while they made tactical plans of where they should conquer next. He recounted playing out in the high grass with his young friends; they had no fear of anyone. The dwarf empire under King Degnar was the strongest anyone had ever seen. No one dared to mess with any dwarf at that time. Everything felt like it was in harmony. Then one day it would all be changed forever.

Down in mining shaft number eight, the stuck into a strange cavern. It was here they came across an interesting find; a young hurt drow child was lying in the base of the cavern. The last blast before they found the cavern must have sent some rocks tumbling upon the drow. He was immediately taken to the dwarf healers where he died shortly thereafter. When news of this spread everyone knew something very bad would happen. The drow were a very volatile race, and once they had something set in their minds, they would stop at nothing until they achieved their goal. Guru could feel that rough time were ahead of them. He got to sit in on meetings with his father and the king. He recalled how heated they got; the king and his father knew how grave upcoming times would be. During that time, it would be impossible to pass the kings throne room without hearing some type of shouting within.

Then one day they struck. It was a blitz attack, even though the dwarfs knew invasion was in the air, they were not ready for it so soon. The drows came in waves, just like the unrelenting sea, no matter how many you put down they kept coming. General Gerenuk was at the front line, it was not dwarf like to have the generals in the back giving orders, besides he had the bloodlust in him. His axe swinging, he mowed through the drow like blades of grass. But unfortunately the drow were more like crab grass, every time you finished off one, two more would be in their fading brothers place. They were the ultimate warriors, it seemed that their archaic language had no place for words like fear, pain, and losers, well unless they were applied to those they chose as their enemies. General Gerenuk had personally trained his son, and requested that his son be at his side. So there was Guru, watching the lust take hold of his father as he tore trough countless drow. He tried his best to feel the same way, but alas did not have his heart in it.

Then it happened, all at once, fifteen drow pounced upon Gerenuk bringing him down hard. Something inside of Guru snapped, he saw nothing but red. The world faded into the background, all he saw was the axe in his hands, and fifty or so drows that would be considering the idea of waking up that morning a rather bad choice. Like a flash of lightning he passed unseen though the crowd of drows, leaving a trail of blood and corpses. With this new hope the dwarfs had renewed spirit and rallied behind him, mostly because in front would have been a shortsighted choice. Guru was a refreshing juggernaut for the dwarfs, he instilled hope where all was lost; mostly he killed drow like it was nobodies business. With Guru leading them they pushed the drow all the way back to cave in which they had come. That cave, the place where it all started, with that accidental blast terminally injuring a clandestine drow.

Now was time to pay Guru’s bloodlust was running low, and he knew it. He did not want to startle his fellow dwarfs so he kept fighting like a mad berserker, even though he was at his wicks end. As sanity was slowly creeping back into him he realized something drastic must be done. He yelled to comrades to back off and as soon as he had entered the cave. Then he ordered them to blast it shut as soon as he was through. Many of his fellow dwarfs were reluctant, but in his learning’s when some mad dwarf was giving orders you did first, asked later, if you were still breathing that is. Guru ran through the portal and his companions did as he bid. But blowing a cave mouth shut is no easy nor safe task, a few of his equals died facilitating this final cause.

The next part Guru was truly unclear about, he recalled being brought down by some rocks and quite a few drow. His current physical state screamed to kill him while he was down, but for some reason beyond him they placed him in a cell. Most likely to not give him the pleasure of dieing in battle, for a life stranded in an oubliette. It was here he spent the majority of his life living off of rats, and other oddities they tossed in on him, the few occasions that they remembered his existence. Guru was a fighter, he needed to survive so for years upon years he worked at digging his way out. With the only readily available tool being a rat bone one can get very creative.

The day Guru saw daylight once more he nearly cried, but as we all know dwarfs would rather be mangled viciously than cry he held back all the pent up tears. He was glad that the drows must have forgotten him, but he could take no chances. So off he went to the nearest town. Something was very odd to him after a short walk he was rather winded, and needed to rest. He thought back to the days before the invasion, life was so much better then. Then, he thought to himself, how long ago was then. After a half a days walk, he found himself in Xaventry. He must have been gone a long time for this place had never even existed while he was a child. Thinking about his own self preservation he mugged a poor man in some ally, his mind was moving to fast to recall where he was, he needed some different clothes incase some of the drow had realized he was missing. It was then that he ran into a drow in the streets. By gods, had the drow won, and conquered all, he ran like mad, he ran as far away as he could. While running he was attacked by wolves…

From here, this is where Guru came into my care. After the ferocious attack by the wolves, Guru was left fatally debilitated. I assured him that the drow had nowhere near taken control of Alyria. He seemed happy to this fact, but as he smiled you could just see the distancing look in his eyes. As his last breath was expelled from his now chilling body, I thanked him, and he brightened once more. There was a flash of a warrior’s grin, then blank. That my friends, is the Story of Guru, whose name I hope remains on all our tongues as a true hero.

-V-