The Chronicles of Hastur: Part 9
Excerpt from ‘The History of Vanagard – The Reuniting of the Tribes of Hastur’ by Professor Albert Lynath
The Chronicles of Hastur, taken from verbal story telling’s and combined into one written form.
“Hail and well met Beskadur.” Hastur said. “What do you know of the mountain Dwarfs?”
Beskadur paused and looked around as if making sure he was not being overheard. When satisfied they were alone and not over-heard he started.
“Well, the thing is…” He looked around shiftily again… “I know the mountain dwarfs quite well, seeing as I am, well, how can I put this… I am one.”
“By the Gods!” Exclaimed Sverdoff “How can this be, you were born to the tribes were you not?”
“Yes and no” Beskadur replied. “You are familiar with Hastur’s story, aren’t you? Well I am not the only one who was not born in a tent as far as I know.”
“Walk with us and tell us your story.” Hastur said and indicated for the others to walk away from the conclave.
“And go where meathead?” Sverdoff asked sarcastically “It’s not exactly the easiest place to find somewhere quiet for a nice chat is it?”
“While I agree, don’t forget we are going to visit Sabarax’s clan later to witness his coming of age, but my desire to quest has started to itch after Belaadry set it upon my mind. Come, let us go back to my tent, I can set a watch there and make sure we are not disturbed.” And with that he led the weaving way back through the camp. The smells of smoke, the call of children playing, and the sound of singing, drums and shouting were all about him. This was life and he loved it here, he felt more at home in the camp than anywhere else, yet he could feel the desire to move, the desire to explore the world around him, and not just at the head of a conquering army.
It did not take them long to get back to his camp, he barked an order to a clan member and instantly his tent was given a cordon and they were left alone.
“So Beskadur, tell us your story then, it seems you have your secrets in the same way that I have my blankness, as I remember not, where I was before coming to the tribes.” Hastur said.
“My clan is mostly, if not entirely made of dwarfs and we spend most of our time in the foothills of the mountains, and we go there often to find ores and to hunt Ogres, so we have dealings with the mountain dwarves more than most of the clans in the tribes.” Beskadur went on. “My father had a dalliance, and it was fruitful and as you can imagine this is scandal to both the mountain dwarves and the clan, which is why it has been kept secret.”
“Ah, I can see the difficulty you face” Hastur said, Sverdoff was nodding and looked understandingly at Beskadur.
“My father was handed a me not long after my birth, the mountain dwarves came in secret and just left me with my father, to his credit he was betrothed and my mother took me and cared for me as her own and nothing has ever been said about what happened.” Beskadur continued.
“Well how did you find this all out then?” Sverdoff asked.
“I go to the mountains a lot, I feel drawn to them and on one of my visits I met my real mother, I feel she sort me out, or had at least been keeping an eye out for me. She told me everything, she told me not to hate my father as she loved him and knew he loved her back and that exposing the shame would benefit no one, and that I agree with.”
“She was right there, your father would and should be driven from the camp for this.” Hastur said, “The law is firm on such things, we pair for life and this could bring bad omens on his clan.” He looked at Sverdoff as he spoke this, she blushed as she returned his gaze.
“I know, but my mother, in the mountains that is, swore me to secrecy! I would never betray that, well, until now that is as I feel this is of such importance that I have to risk this”
“How is this important to what is happening Beskadur?” Hastur asked.
“For one I am an excellent guide, I know the mountains and it’s dangers like no other in my clan, or all of the clans. I am a mountain dwarf, I can feel the mountains in my blood, calling me. Secondly, the person you speak of and seek is my grandfather. I can guide you to him, it won’t be easy especially as it could risk all being disclosed, but for the good of the clans I am willing to risk this.”
Hastur nodded, the wisdom of what Beskadur was saying sinking in.
“Ok, can you be ready to travel at first light?” Hastur asked.
“I am ready now. I carry everything I need.” he patted his axe and a pack he was carrying that he had slung casually on the floor of the tent as he came in. “I always am ready to go off to the mountains, in truth it is only a matter of time before I go to them permanently, either in death or to live out my days. Every hour I spend away from them I feel as a physical pain now.”
“Ok, we have plans for tonight, we have a young man to see become the man I feel he is capable of, after that, I am hoping he can accompany us on the morrow.” Hastur said.
“You can’t be serious Hastur, he’s going to be in no fit state to travel to the mountains on a quest after what he’s going through.” She spoke of the ritual he was undergoing at the moment, his flesh pierced by Ogre horns.
“I understand that, but if he’s the character I feel him to be, he will leap at this chance, regardless of his condition. He has thews of iron and a spirit to match that young man. We will see.” He nodded. “So, let us be up, we have ale to drink and plans of adventure to make, and I don’t know about you, but I always feel the best pans are made with a horn of ale in my fist!” And with that he was up and out of the tent, with the other two left looking at his massive back has he stopped out of the tent into the firelight beyond.