The cheers from the stands in the Cage of Carnage could be heard all the way back at the Incontinental Hotel.
Elebro collected his winnings from the concierge. The Troll bowman’s cunning and precise aim were commendable, but no match for the might of earth and molten magma that would inevitably render him unable to continue.
“My helm is practically glued to my scalp. I don’t know if it’s the blood, grease, or sweat. These goblins love their entertainment, but not their custodians. Has anyone seen the janitor?” Elebro said aloud.
“You know what we need?” Asked a familiar voice.
Ossirus entered the hotel to claim his reward. Ossirus, Elebro’s most trusted comrade, wore a smirk knowing that his dear friend would jump to the same conclusion.
“Hail, friend! And yes, I know exactly what we need” said Elebro.
Elebro used his mystic arts to pull himself through the planes between and around existence to recall himself to Dornogal. Ossirus pulled out his hearthstone to return to the city himself.
The two grabbed their gear from storage and made their way out to the Boulder Springs on the backs of their gryphons.
They swam and washed the filth of gladiatorial combat off before setting up their hooks and casting their lines into the calm creek waters. This had become Elebro’s favorite fishing location since arriving at the Isle.
The gentle breeze brought in the smell of rain and briny sea water; the frogs croaked and the crickets chirped as evening became dusk.
“I am relieved to have found our kinsmen. They are a hardy, honorable lot. It’s been many a year since I have had the pleasure to fight this many greenskins. I am grateful for the opportunity!” exclaimed Elebro.
“Be careful not to scare the fish with your excitement. Tis true they grow in number every passing day. Their chieftain is no fool, the beasts are organizing themselves into a worthy foe. I can appreciate an animal not wanting to be slain, but the void is indifferent to their vigor.” Ossirus put grimly.
A lone fish leapt from the creek as if only to tease their empty hooks.
“Darkwolf may have many powerful shamans and warriors. However, they cannot cut us down. Our blood is iron, our skin is stone. The very elements are at our side.” said Elebro.
Lightning illuminated the sky and sea in the distance as towering, ominous clouds rolled in. The smell of rain grew stronger, as did the wind.
“You always ask me to come out and fish, and you just want to talk the entire time. The fish have ears. They are privy to our conversation and sense our desire to eat them with every word you speak. This is hopeless. Plus, it looks as if though foul weather comes this way. While we are on the subject of our kin and recent involvement with the Orcs, I heard that the King Regent had a large announcement for our next union.” Ossirus said, looking at Elebro with inquisitive eyes, wondering if he had any insight as to what this announcement may be.
The thunderheads grew closer, the rumbling no longer distant. The radiant flashes lighting up the duos faces. The wind whistled around their ears and rain began to fall.
“You’re right. It’s definitely not our night. Neither of us have caught a single fish. They must be getting smarter. Might have to look for a new spot soon. I have also heard rumors about a message from the King Regent regarding the escalation in Orcish skirmishes. In a few short days we shall have our answer. What do ye say we pack it up for now and return to Dornogal for a few pints?” Asked Elebro, hopefully.
“Aye, but first round is on you!” yelled Ossirus through a clap of thunder.
The gladiators packed up their gear and headed towards their gryphons who grew ever anxious of the approaching monsoon.
“Spent all our money on fancy costumes again have we?” Elebro let out a boisterous laugh and used a gust of wind to bring himself upon his winged companion.
“I cannot spend it in death! I am not destined for a peaceful existence…and NEITHER ARE YOU FOR THAT MATTER. Battle can be brutal, you know? But…yes. Yes, I did do that.” Ossirus admitted, mildly embarrassed as he mounted his gryphon.
“Race back?” Ossirus challenged with a mischievous grin.
“Race back!” Elebro accepted as the creature flapped it’s wings and surged him forward.
As they left, the foreboding tempest had reached them. Lightning crashed close enough to see the sand on the shore become glass behind them. The thunder cracked as if the very mountains were colliding. The sky, dark and moonless. The lights of the city barely visible through the downpour. The pair hunkered down on the beasts and flew low to the ground, dodging hulking pillars of stone as they made haste towards the inn.
Elebro and Ossirus were uncertain of what was next for the clan and what was about to take place between them and the Darkwolves. They recognized Battlehammer and it’s leadership to be strong and trusted every Dwarf in it with their lives. No matter the adversary, together, they could overcome. The only thing they both knew for sure though is that the storm…has arrived.
