The Eternal War: The Dragon's Valkyrie

The Westerlands

Saidy awoke to the sound of her door being beat down, or at least, that's what she thought as she flew out of her bed in a fright.

"Who's there?" she screamed.

"It's me, lass!" Revvil's muffled voice billowed from behind the door.

"Oh... One moment!"

Saidy scampered to her feet and opened the door. She had to hunch a bit because the door handle rested about mid-thigh on her.

"We meant to give ya this last night, but with what happened and all..." Revvil stared at his boots. "Well, anyways, here ya go." He shoved a large parcel wrapped in cloth into Saidy's arms.

Saidy almost dropped the gift because she hadn't expected it to be so weighted. She began to undo the draw string and unwrap it.

"It's for protection. Plate leather is the style the smiths are calling it. It's rather new. Made by a dwarven smith no less!" Revvil puffed his chest out as he emphasized the craftsmanship. "It won't stop a heavy weapon or a well-placed one, but it will slow it down," he said as Saidy dropped the cloth to reveal a set of dark leather armor. "Each segment conceals a thin plate of damascus steel. The steel is the next best thing to dragon scales, but those are in short supply lately. Hopefully the next time someone gets a lucky hit, you won't be injured as bad."

"This must have cost a fortune!" Saidy gasped. "I can't—"

"No, no! Ya must. I won't go through a fright like back in the Garden, you hear. None of us will." Revvil pointed a finger straight at Saidy's chest.

Saidy scrutinized the gift. The leather appeared near black with a slight sheen to it. It was soft, but she could feel it yearn to catch a blade and repel it. There was a subtle stitching that curled artistically around the breast that seemed to be for aesthetic purposes, but also was the very bond that concealed the plates within their pockets.

"The dark color comes from the lacre it was soaked in after being treated and molded to keep the rot out. Leather's no good after a few months of continuous use because it becomes worn by the wearer and the elements. This prevents that. Of course, ya should still oil it when ya can to keep it like new.

"There's a new shirt and pants ya can wear underneath, so ya don't chafe. I expect that wool tunic will be too thick and too hot under this. You saved our lives, lass. The Red Hand are the most dangerous group in the north for a reason." Revvil bowed before leaving Saidy to change.

"Thank you!" she called down the hall after him.

He simply threw a hand up as he disappeared down a flight of stairs. Saidy didn't hesitate to change into the armor. The undershirt was the same blue as her current tunic which she enjoyed, and the pants were a simple beige. Both were thin and breathed nicely. Saidy stretched the fingerless gauntlets over her hands, wiggling her fingers as she did. The set even came with a new pair of boots, which she was in dire need of. Her old ones had become worn and smelled of putrid feces.

She attached her swords and donned her cloak, burying her face into the scarf of it as she'd come to do ritually. Every time she thought of her father, and how she felt he might be watching her from Angril as she went on these adventures. After, she flexed around a bit. Much to her surprise, the armor afforded her the same range of motion she'd always been used to. It was light just as Revvil had said, but she felt invincible behind it.

The dwarves cheered as she descended the stairs into the tavern hall, ducking to avoid the crossbeams that had been designed for dwarves, not half dwarves or other races.

"Oy, lass, ya look like a real sell sword now!" Golag said, raising a flagon to her.

"Aye, if I was on the end of yer blade lookin like that, I'd tuck me beard and run!" Bertel joined in.

Saidy couldn't help but feel the corners of her lips stretch toward the ceiling. "Thanks guys!"

"C'mon, lass, let's get on the road. We grabbed ya something to eat on the way!" Revvil said, standing from the table the dwarves sat at and heading for the door.

The next few days were spent cutting and winding through the same granite landscape until golden hills appeared on the horizon.

"Welcome to the Westerlands!" Tamlick said spreading his arms as far as he could. "It's not what they're really called, but that's what we call em."

Saidy hung over the edge of the wagon as she gazed upon the expanse below. The golden hills of wheat stretched all the way to the horizon and were dotted with crags and oaks. She could see a large river running between the hilltops. One reach wound northwest, and another turned southwest at some point.

"Aye, we'd call the Garden the Easterlands, but, well, there's nothing but the Garden in the east... and The Abyss," Bertel said as he stroked his burgundy beard.

"Oy, Mudbutt, that's about the dumbest name you could say!" Tamlick slapped Bertel on the back of the head.

Saidy giggled. "So, aren't these lands actually called the Netherlands?"

"Aye, the Netherlands," Sam said, "They're filled with golems, a race born from the earth. Their largest village, Rhoad'In, lies to the south of Muttle. I've never had the chance to ask one as they rarely travel east of Lockshi'Ria, but I've heard when they die, they're reborn and remember their entire past lives."

"Really?" Saidy gasped.

She wondered what it would be like to remember the entire history of the world. Master would probably love to have all that knowledge, she thought.

"Yeah!" Sam turned to Saidy and caught her gaze.

She smiled at him, but he turned away and became quiet. Saidy didn't understand why, and it felt like her heart had torn in two when he did. She wondered if he'd ever talk with her like he once did.

"You'll have to forgive, Sam," Revvil said over his shoulder, "The heart's a fickle thing, and the wound is still fresh. He'll come round, lass."

But I didn't wound him, she thought; however, it dawned on her that the pain she felt is what Revvil must've meant. The realization of this tore her heart even more.

"Say, lass, yer continuing on after we reach Muttle aren't you? Where exactly are you going?" Tamlick asked.

"Dunno. My master gave me a map and told me to go north from there."

Saidy didn't want to tell them that she was going to the forest where the druids lived.

"Well, sounds like ye might run into the Grand Scar," Golag grumbled. "Watch out for harpies down there."

Saidy remembered Yrden telling her about the Grand Scar, a giant chasm that split the Netherlands, but he never said anything about harpies. She racked her brain, trying to remember if she'd read about anything of the sort.

"What are harpies?" she asked.

"Winged beasts that look like angels but are nothing of the sort. They'll tear yer heart from your chest and sing to you as they do it," Golag said. "Yer lucky yer a girl though. Their songs don't affect women the way they do men. They turn men into slaves and feast on their bones. They just kill women."

How exactly does that make me lucky, she wondered.

"Aye, best to cross at night when they're asleep."

"Aye," the other dwarves agreed as they all nodded their heads.

"Well, since this is the last leg of our journey, a drink!" Tamlick raised his wine pouch.

"Aye, a drink!" the rest cheered.