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Chapter 2: (dwarves) Assignment and Sadness

Gavlic stood at attention in front of his commander. The tall, muscled Dnethe` bent his head over a stack of papers searching. He did not say anything as he searched and Gavlic did not ask. It would be a mistake to regret to speak out in front of the disciplined captain. Dnethe` selected several handwritten pages from the stack and passed them across his table to the waiting dwarvish officer.
“This is your assignment.” he told him in his low, booming voice. “The locals around the Deckri mines have spotted creatures. From their descriptions, I would guess that the creatures were goblins. Your job is to take some men to capture them. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir.” replied Gavlic as his eyes scanned the pages in his hand. One sheet was a small map of the town Deckri with colored areas and circles to depict the problem areas. The next two were handwritten sheets that were the official written orders that he would be required to take. He leafed through the stack until he pulled out a drawing of a goblin. Very few knew of the existence of the other species. The main ones were the special protection unit of the dwarvish army that was created to protect the dwarvish nation from threats. The page in his hand showed a sketch of a standard goblin. It was short. Its back was haunched and its hands were clasped around the haft of a long war axe. Its body was thin but not starved looking and was covered in thin leather and bronze armor. It wore a sneer on its lean face and had an odd twisting insignia on its crude helm and on its right shoulder.
“He wasn't a nomad.” he commented. “This could mean something more serious than just an ordinary trespassing. How many do you want us to bring back alive?”
“You should bring back as many as possible but keep in mind that your men are more important than these goblins.”
“Yes sir. Permission to depart to my quarters?” Gavlic asked handing back the stack of papers.
“Permission granted. Choose some men. You will leave out tomorrow at dawn.” replied Dnethe`.

Gavlic didn't go straight to his barrack when he left the command office. Instead he took the long way, going through the other solders barracks like a maze of elaborate blocks. Along the way he stopped several dwarves from the protection unit and told them to be ready for the mission. He decided only to take thirty men. Only taking thirty could have both advantages and disadvantages. For one, a small group could move faster. However, they could also run into more goblins than they could handle. But he could send out a scout and if there were too many they could stay hidden. He continued to weigh the pros and cons then nodded to himself. He would take thirty.
The majority of the dwarfish nation did not know about the existence of the other races. In fact, even the special protection unit had only in the last two years learned of them. Therefore their jobs were specific on how to get rid of the problems and try to keep the sightings quiet or to convince those who saw a member of a different race that it was somehow a trick of their mind. He wondered at the reason for the secrecy. There was another entire race out in the world and the Government of Elders and Wise Ones, the dwarvish government, seemed to do nothing about it other than keeping it quiet. It didn't seem right. Many thoughts such as these made their ways into his head. Gavlic shook his head angrily. He was a soldier. It could be their motto foras much as it was drilled into their collective heads; when given an order, don't ask questions just do it. He turned his eyes up and pushed his way into the barrack to his sleeping area.
All of his belongings (which weren't very many) were stored neatly away in a small traveling pack that he always kept ready. He sat down on his bunk and emptied the contents of the old, battered pack onto the blankets beside him. There were very many things that could prove useful if out in the dense forests, small villages, or coastal areas to the south that only those privy of the other races ever got to see. Occasionally but not often, there was a free spirit who went beyond the borders to see the world outside. But of course, no one ever believed them or they were slain by outsiders before returning home. The items from the pack now sat organized into stacks and piles. There were two heavier knives for hunting and other utilitarian uses, a coil of rope, a change of clothes, several maps, a whet stone, a handful of packets that contained dried out food such as soup ingredients and many other items. He repacked the items and added a few more. He added rawhide cords for binding hands and feet, a small square of cloth for use as bandages, repairing clothing, or as gags, and more of the food packets. Even with all of this the pack was still very small with plenty of room left. He tied the pack closed with a bed roll on top then propped it against the wall.
Later that night he sat alone at one of the random campfires placed through out the army base. There were no stars out and the moon was hidden from sight. The sky seemed like a heavy, dark blanket draped over the world. Smothering it. The fire was a small one that gave of a little heat and the flames flickered around and over a piece of wood sitting in the middle of the dancing orange tongues of light. Gavlic poked at a dying ember till a small flame caught the wood. He sat back again and watched as the fire devoured the wood. He speculated the remaining wood. The grain, the patterns that had formed as it grew, the rings spreading away from the cut, the fire with its dancing strands of oranges and yellow. A dwarf came up to him and interrupted his contemplations.
“Sir! I have a message from the healing center. Kalamera fell ill and collapsed. She is sleeping now but Master Ralorand wishes to speak with you.”
Gavlic did not linger but leapt to his feet and sped off towards the healing center.
The doors swung and crashed against the door as he forced his way through them. There were people all around him and they seemed to press against him. They were keeping him from getting to his betrothed! This thought sprang into his head as he began to push forward, ignoring the angry shouts directed at his back. Finally he made his way through the packed bodies and rushed up to a dwarfish nurse. Her white healers robes gleamed in the light of candles around the room and she had a pretty face, framed by long dark hair but none of this even registered to him as he hastily told her the situation. “Ah.” she exclaimed with a look of pity in her eyes. “You must wait in his office while I tell him that you have arrived. He will be with you shortly to inform you of the lady Kalamera's condition.” She said all of this as she led him through the hallways behind the reception desk she had been standing at. The maze of hallways seemed to go on forever and he wondered how they could ever find their way through it. However the nurse seemed confident and she led him to a plain brown door set into the stone wall without hesitation.
“You will wait here. I am sorry.” She opened the door, gestured for him to enter, then turned on her heels and left. Now that he could do nothing but wait, the worry began to gnaw at him again. Kalamera, his beloved, did not go to the healers for simple matters. He could guess why she was here. Her dreadful disease. Shortly after he had asked her to marry him it had reared it's ugly head. The last time it had sprung up she had dropped a pot of steaming rice and stew and stood with a dead look on her face. Some friends she had been with could not make her wake and as one had went to get a healer, she had wrapped her arms around herself then dropped to her knees. It was a disease that destroyed a person from the inside and couldn't be cured. If she was here it could only mean that she had had an attack. It would be worse than the last time when she had thrashed with awful seizers for days. She had almost died then and he doubted that she could survive it again. At that moment Ralorand stepped through the door, interrupting his thought.
“Hello Gavlic.” he immediately started in his quiet voice. “I sincerely hope that all has been well with you in your life besides these little episodes.” Gavlic merely nodded his head and stared at him intensely. The healer continued. “I know why you are here and I am sorry to say it. Kalamera is not in the hold of seizures or spasms. Even as we speak she lays in a comatose state from which we can not wake her. It is tragic but I do not think that she will ever awake.” Gavlic stared at his hands not wanting to believe what he had heard. He raised his head and asked “There must be some cure? Something, anything we can do?” The old healer only shook his head. “I am afraid that there is nothing that we can do. I have only seen this twice in my whole lifetime. In both cases the patients died shortly after going into the coma.”
Ralorand continued in his soft voice telling him details and other things but Gavlic did not hear the words. He was lost in his thoughts where the fact that he would probably lose his finance pressed down on him, covering his mind in a thick haze. Finally he asked to be taken to her and Ralorand consented. The walk to her room took a tortuously long time but at the same time seemed to take only a moment. Suddenly there was a door in front of him. Ralorand pushed it open and Gavlic hesitantly stepped inside. The room was bare except for a hand woven rug on the floor, a similarly woven wall hanging on the cold stone wall, a chair, and a bed where Kalemera lay. He walked over to the bed side and knelt, staring into the sleeping face. She looked so much better when she was asleep. Lines of worry, fatigue, and pain disappeared back into the smooth skin of her face. She looked peaceful.