2nd day, 1st ride, April, 1372 DR
When I woke up, I found myself on my footlocker, at the end of my bed, half dressed, with Thorim’s snoring thundering through my skull. Abel, who hadn’t participated in last night’s festivities, had woken up, got up and opened our window in order to freeze us to attention. Thorim was in the same shape as I, having found a spot on the floor to sleep. You know you’ve been drinking with a Dwarf when you wake up the following morning near your bed, but not in it, despite not having had the comfort of a warm bed very often recently.
Before we left, I found a small hill, cleared of shrubs ant rees, and I prayed for resilience and good fortune in the day to come. I also, upon reflection, identified several animals that carry Abaddon’s favour; the bird of prey, the bear, but also the horse, because of the temperament, spirit and stamina.
The Serpent’s Bridge, a name that suggests and interesting history. Thorim did not know, but thought it mgiht be connected to the attack of a dragon on Anathar’s Dell a few hundred years ago in retaliation to a wizard’s growing power…Anathar’s growing power. Thorim wasn’t sure, but he thought the dragon was red. I know I have Abaddon by my side, and that the likelihood of being confronted with a dragon is almost non-existant, but still…I am the man with two lives, the first was taken by a dragon as white as early morning snow.
Together with Abel we went to talk to the captain of the guard of a bunch of travellers – migrants from Shadowdale – returning to Green Orb after two decades, when they left upon the Zhent occupation. They had encountered Orcs to the south, and three were wounded. I requested to examine and treat the wounded, which was granted (gladly.) Only one man really needed my attention, he had an arrowhead embedded in his upper leg. It had not started infecting yet, which was fortunate, but it was only a matter of time before it would. I tried to be jovial and I let him have the last of the spirits I had used for the bandages. The rest I used on his leg and my dagger. I opened the wound and removed the arrowhead, during which three of his friends held him down. His cries could be heard throughout the valley. In the end I gave him the tip of the arrow as a token. He was very thankful, as were his friends.
That evening we arrived at Anathar’s Dell. Upon entering we noticed something creeping through the bushes on one side of the road leading into town. When I mentioned it to the rest, and drew my hammer, Thorim assured me that I had nothing to worry about. Once we cleared the bushes it became obvious what had been following us; apparently Anathar’s Dell is protected by large wild cats that the Dalesmen call tigers. It was most, most disturbing.
We made our way into town and up a winding path of a hill around which the town was centered. On top of the hill there was an inn called the Anathar’s Arms, and there we found ale, food and the company of Humans, Half-elves and Dwarves alike. All along the winding path there were small log hut cottages, belonging to the inn, and housing their visitors. We were supplied with one.
I made a remark about women – about Captain Durmark to be exact – and their disruptive influence on society, which surprised Abel. I explained that I believe everything we, men, do, is in order to find a woman to mate with. We are all driven by our desire to procreate. It leaves us blind to the truth most of the time, and it leaves us hungering for power.
That revelation lead us to discuss power, and the corruption thereof, and the difference between divine power and arcane power. I accussed Abel of being too frivolous with his power, using it without being supremely aware of the possible consequence. His power is corruptive, after all. He countered by saying that our powers were not much different from one another. I agreed, but I closed off the conversation by saying that his arcane power is guided by himself, while mine is guided by Abaddon and that I am a mere catalyst. There is a higher power that decides over my powers…in fact, they’re not even my powers at all. They’re His powers.
The power I do have, is the power of my hammer. I know that power corrupts, which is why I don’t want to have it. I am careful when I raise my weapon, and wield it as furiously as Abaddon intended once I do decide to use it. I never sought a career in arms, otherwise I would’ve been more than a soldier a long time ago. No, my lack of military rank has not been the result of a lack of opportunity, but rather a conscious decision I made. No, not a lack of opportunity, but a lack of ambition on my part. Power corrupts. Ambition is the road to power.
