The Trials of Caste (19 page)

Perhaps this is why the importance of The Sorcerer
had much diminished over the centuries among the descendents of Kale, for to
read the writings of the ancients The Sorcerer was more a god to them, yet
today he was more a distant, wise, important person… and certainly the creator
of their race.  Indeed, after so many centuries had passed from the great
events of the past, knowledge of the time of The Sorcerer had not been
consistently taught to the common castes over the generations, a thing that
Lord Karthan had sought to change.  Despite his efforts, however, any depth of
knowledge about The Sorcerer was usually only had among the learned of the
gen.  Though the common folk did generally believe that he had once existed,
and had all heard the most common of stories that were passed down through the
generations, they thought of him more as a distant memory; more than a nursery
rhyme yet somehow less than ominously important. 

Though Lord Karthan believed in all their
accumulated lore, he had not done the best job ensuring their lore was taught
to the common castes.  The loss of the Kale Stone, and the loss of the powers of
the Lord Kales who had held it over the centuries, had only served to further
dampen the faith of the common castes in the greater powers that were.

Finally, after reading much of the circumstances
of these meetings with the Watchers, Lord Karthan came to the prophecies Lord
Kale’s group had recorded.  They were three, and from the moment he first laid
eyes on them, Lord Karthan had begun to sense a feeling of great power slowly
welling up within him.  He could not take his eyes off the words.  They burned
deep into his consciousness, and he knew he’d found what he was searching for.

Kiria watched her father read silently with great
interest.  For the past several weeks she had seen him cloister himself in their
library, hardly eating and rarely sleeping, searching desperately through tome
after tome, yet never being able to verbalize what it was he was searching
for.  As she watched her father absorbing the writings of the prophecies, it
was as if her father’s spirit was slowly being relieved of some great burden.

As Lord Karthan read the prophecies, many strange
names and events paraded through his consciousness.  A story of the Tilward
Tree which lay in a massive canyon known as the Abyss in the depths of the
Great Forest talked of how this tree had kept back an invasion of demons from
another world.  The story of a powerful dwarven archon Mortimer and his
followers among the dwarven clans spoke of the role of the various races in a
war that, he imagined, was yet to come.  Finally, the Canticle of Morgra, who
called himself the Keeper of the Covenant, spoke of the kobold race’s role in
what he called the end times.  There seemed to be a key piece of information
missing, however, something he would have to understand before the mysteries of
this Canticle of Morgra would be unlocked to him.  In each of these stories
were given prophecies that these great beings from history had passed on to
future generations.

Finally realizing that Kiria was still there, Lord
Karthan took a deep breath.  “Listen to this, Kiria,” he said.  “This story is
called the Story of the Tilward Tree.  See if you understand it.”

Hear
now the Story of the Tilward Tree,

And
of a life freely given that all may live free.

In a
time long before the world knew the first man,

The
elves built great gates to escape an oppressor’s hand.

Demons
and aberrations from the Fallen Prince’s brood

Harried
their efforts and sought to bring their doom.

But
the elves escaped through the eight great portals

And sealed
their escape with a power they thought eternal.

In
the dragon wars the gates were left unguarded

And
the pilgrim races used these gates now unwarded.

Seeing
doom following in the pilgrim races’ wake,

The
elf lords moved quickly to reseal the gates.

From
the highest Mountain to the lowest Abyss,

The
lords of the elven nations achieved their wish.

The
Sorcerer came and sealed the power of the doors

By
the strength of his Covenant with Dharma Kor.

The
eight stones he gave were meant to be wards

And
the Key was given to kobold hands to guard.

But
the Key was lost by the lord of a kobold gen

And
together with the Orc Stone a gate opened again.

Tilward,
paladin of the Council and man of war

Honored
the ancient covenants of Dharma Kor

And
gathered the races to meet the onrushing storm,

To
engage and destroy the approaching demon hordes.

The
Champions of Dharma Kor in that time of fate

Defeated
their vanguard and gained the Orc Gate.

Arriving
victorious, having taken the gate,

Tilward
knew that his victory had sealed his fate.

Magic
he fused with a handful of dirt and seed

And
created a receptacle of strength; a magical tree.

Knowing
what had to be done to fuse the rift

Tilward
gave his heroic life as his final gift.

Now
know this, who reads this story of sacrifice,

The
day approaches when Tilward’s strength will not suffice.

For
there will be one who seeks the Dark Prince to serve

And
he shall gain power to open a portal to his hordes.

In
his final words to the Champions, Tilward gave the key

To
the Dark Prince’s arrival as he spoke this prophecy:

“When
the day again arrives that the stones awaken,

The
races must unite the stones before they are taken.

Then
the Keeper of the ancient Covenant they should seek,

And
The Sorcerer’s powerful covenant they should keep.

Then
stand united against the great foe, on top of the tower

And
fight for Dharma Kor using The Sorcerer’s power.”

Lord Karthan finished the prophecy and looked up
at Kiria.  “There is power in those words,” he whispered.  Both of them could
feel the pull of some power greater than themselves.  It was as if something
was confirming the truth of these words in their hearts.  “So what do you make
of it, my daughter?”

Kiria spoke, “It seems that this Tilward, in a
final act of selflessness, gave his life to create a magical tree, imbued with
all the power given him by Dharma Kor itself, or perhaps The Sorcerer, and
thereby sealed a gate to another world.”  She paused and thought for a moment
before continuing.  “It seems that this act stopped an invasion of powerful
beings the writer calls demons from the other side of the gate, and thereby
saved the races of Dharma Kor from the destructive powers these invaders had.”

Lord Karthan was nodding, “It seems his final
prophecy states that the stones of power that The Sorcerer originally used to
seal the eight gates will awaken and will have to be found before this Dark
Prince arrives.  Hmm… I wonder if this Fallen Prince and this Dark Prince are
the same.”

Kiria looked confused, “But what is this key that
was lost by a kobold lord, father?  Could it be the Kale Stone that was lost by
the last Lord Kale?” 

“I do not know.  I would think, since the Watchers
knew of the Kobold Stone, that perhaps that is it,” he said, referring to the
stone of power of the Kobold Gen, the gen of the oldest son of the first
kobold, which had been mostly destroyed centuries before.  

Lord Karthan paused then flipped through the pages
to where the second prophecy was found.  “Perhaps it says elsewhere in here,”
he said as the page turned to Mortimer’s prophecy.  “This next prophecy seems
to state that the power of The Sorcerer would begin to awaken when the stones
begin to call the races to defend Dharma Kor.”

Lord Karthan looked down at the text of the few
short paragraphs that comprised Mortimer’s prophecy.  “It speaks of a war
‘greater than that which had divided the races’ and of a time when ‘the
Watchers would be called on to rally the races against a common foe’.”  Lord
Karthan paused for a moment and read the last couple of paragraphs.  “He spoke
of each of the eight original races; the elves, humans, dwarves, and gnomes as
well as the hobgoblins, orcs, goblins, and minotaurs, stating the strengths and
weaknesses of each, and how the Watchers would fight an invading horde.”

“Is there any indication of when this great war is
supposed to happen?” Kiria asked.  “Do you think it will be in our time?”

Lord Karthan felt strength like he’d never felt
before.  Kiria’s question burned like a true statement in his heart.  “My dear
daughter, I do not know.”  Denying the confirmation in his heart, he changed
the subject.  “There is much mention of kobolds in this last prophecy,” he said
as he began to flip the pages.  As he did so, a small, folded up piece of
parchment fell out of the center of the book, falling open on the ground as it
landed.  Kiria bent to pick it up.  Carefully holding the worn, listless
parchment, she began to read it aloud.

The first prophecy of Two-Toes, Oracle of the Kobold Gen,
concerning the gathering of the stones given to the five sons of Kobold, the
First Sire.

Kiria looked at her father quizzically.  “Father,
are these the same five stones that were given to the heads of the five great
gens?”

Within Lord Karthan a myriad of emotions played. 
It was as if he knew he stood at the brink of a great discovery, one that would
rend the veil between him and whatever greater powers there were in the
universe.  “Read on,” he whispered.

Hear
now the utterances of the babe called Two-Toes, when his mouth was opened by
the power of the Creator while still an infant in his mother’s arms:

‘To
the Kobold Race were given five stones of power,

One
for the Kobold Gen, descendants of Kobold, the First Son of Kobold our First
Sire, and blessed to gather the stones;

One
for the Kale Gen, descendants of Kale, the Second Son, and blessed to host the
First Son;

One
for the Krall Gen, descendants of Krall, the Third Son, and blessed to harbor
the First Son in his quest to power;

One
for the Krech Gen, descendants of Krech, the Fourth Son, and blessed to stand
with the First Son when that which was divided is united once again.

One
for the Kormir Gen, descendants of Kormir, the Fifth Son, and blessed to come
to the First Son in his hour of need;

Hear
now the sure word of prophecy: I shall not taste of death until the stones
shall call to the rightful heirs of these great gens and they be gathered to
Palacid to claim their inheritance.  Let those who read understand, for one
shall arise who is a stranger among the southern gens, and power shall be given
him to gather the stones and to bring their heirs to his purposes, first by
greed, then by loyalty.’

Scrawled beneath the prophecy in spidery
hand-writing was an apparent addition:

The Key
to Palacid is to be found in a dwarf tomb.

Kiria reread the prophecy to herself and pondered
on it.  “Father, isn’t there still a remnant of the Kobold Gen among the lesser
gens in the northern valley?”

Lord Karthan nodded slowly, still seemingly lost
in thought.  “Aye, in fact those lesser gens used to be a part of the Kobold
Gen, before some war or another shattered them many generations now in the
past.  Assuming this note was put in the book over a hundred years ago now, one
would have to think that this Two-Toes must be either dead or very, very
ancient.”

Kiria looked at her father, the words of Two-Toes’
prophecy enlightening her mind.  “Father, do you think it is perhaps the call
of the Kale Stone that has made you so preoccupied lately?”

The question pierced Lord Karthan to the core.  He
began struggling with memories of events that he had never shared with his
daughter.  Despite the struggle within his mind, the words of his daughter
thundered in his heart.  He had no doubt any longer that it was time to seek again
for the Kale Stone.  His heart was full as he answered her.  “My daughter, I
believe it is,” he said.

“Then perhaps, father,” Kiria started, “since you
are not in the direct bloodline of the last Lord Kale, perhaps you are this
stranger Two-Toes mentions who is supposed to gather the stones… maybe starting
with the Kale Stone.”

These words caused mixed emotions in Lord
Karthan’s heart.  He could sense that they were true… in part.  “I do not know,
my daughter,” he answered.  “I certainly don’t think of myself as a stranger
among this gen, or our neighbors the Krall Gen here in the southern valley.  I
can sense that I have some part in all this, but I am not certain what this
prophecy means.”

“Here, there is much mention of kobolds in this
last prophecy,” he said as he began to flip the pages to the writings of one
who called himself Morgra, Keeper of the Covenant.  In his heart he could feel
that Two-Toes’ prophecy had given him the keys to this Canticle, and that its
mysteries would be held from him no longer.

As Kiria looked on, Lord Karthan silently read the
Canticle of Morgra, the pull of destiny growing in his heart.  Looking over the
words, his mental faculties were increased and intensified.  In a moment, it
was as if his understanding had taken on a new dimension, as if words were
objects and references were the events themselves playing out in his
consciousness.  Words of the Canticle spawned visions in his mind, the ebb and
flow of destiny unwinding in the dealings of the races was revealed to him, and
the unseen urgency of this period of time in the world of Dharma Kor’s long
life span was laid bare before his eyes.