What Is Needed

Chapter 3

The three Withlings watched their fellow mystics and whispered their intentions in dark corners. Several weeks later, they gathered after dinner and discussed their lack of findings in hushed voices.

"I say we inform the elders." Howart shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Hastra shook her head. "Who can we trust?"

Zelma uncrossed her arms and touched Hastra's shoulder. "We've found nothing. If there's danger we can't keep it to ourselves."

Hastra paced away and back several times. She needed to do something. She paused and slouched. "We've done what we can, I suppose. If something happens without informing the elders we'll be responsible. Who should we trust with this?"

Howart cleared his throat. "I say Elder Tokla. He's Chokkran and they dislike trolls more than most other dwarves. He'd never be an ally to trolls."

"You're right." Hastra started walking.

Zelma grabbed her sister's arm. "Now?"

"When else?"

They found the dwarf in his spare apartment. After the Withling elder invited them into his room they explained their problem. Tokla listened while he cleaned his glasses. When they finished, Tokla stood and paced his room, hands behind his back. "And no one else knows of this?"

Hastra shook her head as did Howart and Zelma.

The elder pointed his spectacles at them. "You should have told me sooner. Trolls are like vermin. I'll need to look into this, bring the other elders into it. We'll need to discuss an interpretation - a course of action at the very least."

Hastra cleared her throat. "So you believe me?"

The elder chuckled, a sound like crunching gravel from a dwarf. "Of course I believe you. This is Withling's Watch isn't it?" He waved aside Hastra's attempt to answer the obvious. "The question is what to do since we have no guidance from Eloch." The dwarf paced again and when he stopped, he lowered his chin. He pointed with his glasses to Hastra. "I'll let you know what we decide."

Hastra wanted to ask if it was wise to bring other elders into this. Instead she nodded and Tokla showed them out. If only the dwarf would follow through on his promise. He would, he must. Tokla was a dwarf, after all.

Two days later, Tokla shoved a note into her hand in passing as she and her fellow mystics departed the morning prayers. She read the curling words so reminiscent of dwarven runes: Fear not. We are investigating. Expect rumors of searched rooms but say nothing in response.

That night Hastra slept well for the first time in weeks.

But, the warning bell clanged and jolted Hastra from slumber. Screams and snarls echoed from the lower levels. It was a dream like the others. She clutched her blanket at her chin and waited.

Zelma lit a candle. Light flared and illuminated her wide-eyed face and disheveled shocks of flame-red hair. "Is that what you heard in the first vision?"

Hastra groaned. It had come. No, it had been here all along. She swung her bare feet onto the frigid floor. "Get dressed in something warm. The snow has melted but nights are still cold."

Zelma's mouth remained open as she twisted in her bed with a nod.

Hastra swirled into a dress and sat on her bed while she tugged wool stockings on her feet. "Shh." She waved a hand and they sat silent. Ominous sounds rose and fell beyond their door. "Put that candle out, someone's coming." She snatched her walking stick, hoisted it at her shoulder and stood by the door.