Blade of Erogrund

Chapter Eleven- War Council

The woman led Godric and Mira back down the tunnel that had taken them into the Naevir, into Rae-Oiron, and up the sweeping staircase into the antechamber they had entered when first inside the city. She gestured that they should go down the short passage.

"Ennor and the Council are waiting for you in there."

They nodded their thanks and walked down the passage. Unlike the others, the walls were built of large stone blocks opposed to solid rock, though their seams were nearly invisible. The passage went a short ways before sharply turning and doubling back the way they had come. It ended abruptly where a single dwarf guard stood armed with an impressive battle axe and a carapace of finely hammered steel armor, most of which was hidden behind a massive blond bush of a beard.

He grunted and peered skeptically at them. "I think you are lost, children."

"I think Ennor is expecting us," Godric replied with more than a little frustration in his voice.

"That's Lord Ennor to you, boy. And I highly doubt that." The dwarf waited for moment, but they did not turn around. Rolling his eyes, he hammered a fist on the oak and brass door that hung behind him. Seconds later a muffled voice called for him to open it. With a hint of surprise in his eyes, the dwarf complied.

Godric and Mira stepped cautiously inside the room and surveyed the scene.

A small arrangement of men and several women stood in a circle around a sizable table that filled the majority of the large chamber. The table was built of a smooth hardwood circle that was overlain with an incredibly crafted, three-dimensional map. Tiny iron trees collected in a vast forest that filled much of the table and sharp cliffs rose off the surface of the wood only to plummet into lakes, rivers, and, on the edges of the map, seas. Each detail was inscribed with meticulous accuracy, flowing together into a breathtaking display. Complementing this map were a collection of small metal tokens that were in the images of dragons, cavalry, and foot soldiers displayed throughout the landscape.

Ennor stood directly behind the table, facing the doorway with Thain nearby and Sarah directly to his right. Raised voices filled the room as he and another slightly older man exchanged heated words. The older man wore an impressive breastplate of interlocking platelets that was largely covered by a flowing forest green cape which clasped at his left shoulder. A head of greying brown hair fell to his shoulders, covering much of his worn face.

"...And what have seen from it? Death. You promised us results, Ennor. What would you have us do?"

"I would have you trust me!" The young man shouted angrily. "This is not what I had planned, but no results will come of it if you bail out now! Does loyalty mean nothing?"

"Trust," The older warrior scoffed. "We have trusted you for almost ten years now, and what has happened? What should keep us in your allegiance?!"

"Perhaps the fact that I am your King!!" Ennor yelled.

"King, pah." The man growled. "King by what? Blood does not make a man. You have no throne, no sword, no kingdom, and very soon no followers." 

The threat hung heavily in the air, only broken by the older warrior's steps as he stalked back toward the outskirts of the room. Ennor braced himself with one arm against the table and rubbed his forehead with the other. Seeing Godric and Mira, he waved them in but made no other acknowledgment of their presence.

"Firior, report, if you will." A man stepped forward from the side of the room. He wore tough leather armor over a blue cloak that complimented his dark hair, which was drawn back in a short braid. A fine bow was strung over his back beside a dense quiver of arrows.