Fantasy

Carn the Bugbear has a deep secret that nobody knows, as well as strong feelings for Amala Dullerm, but will his awkwardness ruin him?

A Sovereign Hope

By Eddie Davis

©2014

 

 

1.

 Fantasy

 

 

 

There was a certain rhythm in the hammering sounds coming from the adjoining room. As he worked twisting the pieces of mithril into strands for the dwarven mesh armor, Carn found himself lost in the beat of the hammers as his mind wandered.

They were pleasant thoughts that filled his head, but they were pure fantasy, and he knew with a deep soberness that this was all they would ever be.    Yet this day, as he labored in the craftsman common room of the Dwarven Armorer’s Guild, they sustained him.

He smiled a rather silly grin that came across somewhat hideous when projected from his large Goblinoid head.    Yet right then he didn’t care.   He would allow himself to feel happy in spite all the grimness and fear that blanketed Westmark, and live in the moment.

Moments were all that he ever really had, so he tried to relish them.  

He would have to move on in a few years, after all of the warfare had ended.   He felt strongly confident that Duke Dullerm would emerge from the conflict completely victorious, though there would certainly be much carnage and grief.

There would be parades, grand dances and elaborate feasts.   After a time of reflective mourning, their dead would be buried and honored and then life would improve.

Eleazar, as the Sylvan raven had prophesized, would be crowned as King of Marksylvania, and his lovely wife Aurei would be the radiant Queen.

Carn confidently believed this, almost as if he possessed the foresight that he had once had  -in a life that was now  almost a fairy tale to him.    But it wasn’t prophesy, it was merely many, many centuries of observation that had given him such deep insight.

Yes, life would go into one of those ‘happily ever after’ cycles that (hopefully) would last for many years.  

But he wouldn’t see it.

 

With a deep sigh, he looked down at his workmanship and frowned slightly.   It was the best that he could do now with his huge hands, and while it would suffice for the Dwarves; he truly wished he could do better.    But that wasn’t possible now.   He was just a big, ugly Bugbear.   So very little was expected of him.

“Carn?” 

He looked up with a start.   It was as if her voice had somehow slipped out of his daydream.    But it was actually her!  

“Oh!   Hi, Amala.” He said with a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice, “I didn’t see you come in.”

“I noticed that " you are really focused on your work, aren’t you?”   She smiled and for a moment he forgot how to speak as he gazed upon her.

“Uh… yeah, I’m… too simple to think of too much at the same time.”   He hoped he wasn’t blushing enough for her to notice.

“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt your concentration, but it is noon and we’re supposed to address the latest group of refugees in the Muddy Boot.”

“Oh, right!   Sorry, I lost track of time.    I’m ready.   Let me just take my apron off first.”    He stood up, fumbling with the leather straps in his nervousness, which of course caused him to pull on them wrong.    Now he had a tight knot to contend with, and he frantically worked on it, conscious of her watching him.   “I’m sorry, Amala… I’ve got it into a knot now.”

The lovely Drow girl sighed with a smirk and motioned for him to turn around.   She went around behind him and he could feel her slender fingers already loosening the straps.

“Why are you so nervous?   You’re not scared of public speaking, are you?”   She asked as she freed him from the knot.

“I don’t really know if I am or not, Amala.    I’ve never really spoken to anyone publicly.”   This was, of course, part of his persona and far from the truth.   Years of his role had made such responses so second-nature to him that he almost believed them as well.

“You’ll do fine.   Guess what?   The refugees that came in a few hours ago included a few lady Bugbears!”   She monitored his reaction, and for a few moments, he gave her none.   Then he became aware of her scrutiny and he shrugged.

“I’ve never seen any, so it can’t really be exciting to me.” He finally replied.   This too was a lie, for he’d seen most of the races of Synomenia in his many years of wandering.   But again, he had to fit into this role, as an orphaned Bugbear that had existed on the edges of human civilization since he was small.  

Even Mutt had been fed this story and believed him.   He hated to lie, but of course he was not allowed to tell the truth, so his hands were really tied.

Amala patted him on the arm, “Well, this is your chance to see some.”

He nodded, but was looking closely at her as they walked across the room to the exit.    She still had the twin braids that he’d woven into place for her this morning, and wore one of her mother’s barmaid dresses.   She wore it extremely well, though she had accessorized the low cut dress with twin sword belts.

The effect intoxicated him.    She still fiercely clung to her tom-boy ways, though since the geises had fallen upon her, she now had to leave her hair long, as well as only wearing dresses.

 

But even before the geises, Amala was well-known in her community for her great, natural beauty.   Yet the girl had absolutely no idea how extraordinarily lovely she was.   Now with her long hair and dresses, her presence seemed to excite even more interest from countless admirers.  

 

He knew he was in big trouble, but right then he didn’t care.    They exited into the courtyard of the Armorer’s Guild and waved to Darv, who was discussing the outcome of a suit of mail with one of the ducal guards.    He nodded in response to their wave and they hurried across the snow to the Ducal Keep’s large parade field.

“They’ve gathered all of the Goblinoid refugees there.”  Amala told him as they approached the field, “So they are suspicious and rather belligerent - I’m hoping that you’ll calm them down some.   Then we’ll go speak to the others over at the Muddy Boot stable field.”

“Alright.” Carn replied, very nervous about his new task.

Amala sensed his reluctance, “Is something wrong?”

“Well, I don’t really relate to the Goblinoids.   I don’t even speak any of their languages.”

“None of them?   Not even Goblin?”   Amala asked in surprise.

“No, sorry.   The only Goblinoid I’ve been around is Mutt, and he speaks common better than Goblin.”

Amala sighed with a hint of frustration, “Well, just talk to them in common - most of them speak that anyway.    Just reassure them that we will treat all of them fairly and maybe if they see you standing there next to me, they’ll believe you.”

“I’ll do my best, Amala.”

She scrutinized him closely as they mounted the steps to the first level landing, where they would speak to the masses below.

 

He seemed extremely nervous and eyed the crowd with a slight hint of disgust evident on his face.   Amala found it really odd that even a Bugbear raised by humans would not feel some sort of bond of kinship to the Goblinoid races assembled.    Of course, she didn’t like or trust the Drow, and that included her vampire grandmother, so perhaps she shouldn’t find his reaction that mysterious.

She shook it off as they reached the landing and gazed out over the courtyard.

It was full of an extremely motley group of forms.   Orcs, Goblins, Hobgoblins and even several Bugbears and Ogres all milled about.   Their somewhat agitated voices hushed down as they saw the two of them join the handful of ducal guards on the landing.

Captain Bruce, the Orc commander of late Queen Eioldth’s Orc Honor Guard, bowed to Amala as they joined him on the platform.

“They are not accepting what we tell them.”   The Orc Captain mumbled to Amala, “I have spoken to them for a quarter of an hour, but they are still suspicious.”

“What about your sister?   Perhaps she could convince them.”

From behind her brother, Lysa leaned around, shaking her head, “I’m sorry, Princess Amala, but I tried as well and they did not respond any better.”

Amala frowned - mostly at the title ‘Princess’ which was far from a certain title that she felt she could claim.   “Thanks for trying Lysa.   Captain Bruce, I’m going to let Carn try to speak to them, maybe he’ll have better luck.”

The Orc captain nodded, and gestured for Carn to come forward and speak.   With a deep nervous sigh, the Bugbear hesitantly went forward.  

Linel Demmet, who had been standing with the two Orcs addressing the crowd, raised his hands over his head and gave a loud whistle, “Your attention please!    To reassure all of you of the good intentions and spirit of friendship that the Duke and Duchess of Westmark have for all races oppressed by the Emperor; here is Carn.   He is a Bugbear who has lived and worked in Westmark for several years.   Listen to what he tells you!”

Linel turned to Carn as the mass of humanoids below snorted and murmured.    Toward the back of the crowd, a large Bugbear put his hands to his mouth to amplify his yell, and then called out something in the Bugbear tongue that sounded rude.   But Carn had no idea what he had said, so he just cleared his throat and addressed them in common.

“I am Carn, and as you can see, I am a Bugbear.    I have lived in Westmark for a little more than two years and in the Kingdom of Northmarch for seven years.   When I came here, Duke and Duchess Dullerm were very fair and kind to me.   The Dwarven Armorers’ Guild gave me a job and"“

“Working for Dwarves?!”  A voice called out, “A slave to the little people!”

The crowd roared with harsh laughter.

“I am NOT a slave of the Dwarves!”  Carn responded, a bit annoyed, “I am a laborer that is paid for his toil.”

“You work for the Dwarves, when you should be eating them instead!” Another voice croaked loudly, stirring up the crowd further.

“Listen to me!” Carn said loudly, his voice now booming, “This is not the wilds of the southlands!   You are all welcome here, but you will be required to act civilized!   You must obey and submit to the authority of the Duke and Duchess!   They are Drow living amidst humans, elves, Halflings and Dwarves, and they are kind and fair to all.”

“Fair to all who grovel to them!”  Another voice yelled out.

“We submit to no Elf or Drow!”  Yet another voice screamed proudly.

Carn was now angry, “You WILL submit to the laws of Westmark, or you can go elsewhere!   Look at Captain Bruce standing beside me!   He commands the Queen’s Honor Guard and is highly respected!   He should be your"“

“BOOTLICKER!”   One of the Ogres mocked, and his words caused all those assembled in the courtyard into an explosion of sounds.    Rocks and snowballs began sailing at those on the landing.

“Great, Carn, you’ve started a riot!”  Amala snapped as she dodged a snowball.  

“GET HIM OUT OF HERE!” General Luca yelled down to them from where he stood observing the proceedings from the parapet. 

Ducal guards began rushing into the courtyard, and several of the guards pushed Carn quickly away from the landing, through the ducal tower and out the western entrance.   As he was being hurried away, he heard Captain Linel say to Amala, “Well, that was a bad idea.”

“Yes it was.” She responded, “I should have known better.”

“Bugbears.”  Linel commented, and Carn heard both of them laugh as if simply using the racial label explained everything.

“Carn, please stay out of sight until we get them calmed down, okay?”   One of the guards gently advised.   Carn nodded, too humiliated, hurt and ashamed to even respond.

Reviews

[Skai Rain]

A love your writing style and this story so far! I will definitely continue reading more when I can. Thank you for posting!

[Eddie Davis]

Thank you for reading it.

[Elina]

First of all...I am so thrilled that I finally get to read this! I have been so looking forward to it. That being said...on to my "Eagle Eyes" specialty...

"It was pleasant thoughts that filled his head..." You will want to change "It was" to "They were" to keep with the plural "thoughts."
"...this was all they would ever stay." Perhaps "stay" ought to be "be." ?
"...in a life that now was almost a fairytale to him." It may sound better if you switch "now" and "was." Also, "fairytale" ought to be two words.
"This was of course part of his persona..." You'll want to add commas; one between "was" and "of," and another between "course" and "part."
"This too of course was a lie..." You might take "of course" out and leave it at "This, too, was a lie..."

[Eddie Davis]

Hi Elina, I am very happy to see your review. Your mastery of wording and usage is a huge help. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.