Chapter 2, Part 2
A Valkyrie: Ragnarok Story, by Rodney Sloan
This is the fourth excerpt from Valkyrie: Ragnarok, which introduces Gawn and the intrepid crew of the Rat, a dwarven mine crawler. Far from home and running out of supplies, the Rat's crew look for hope in old legends.
You can find past excerpts by checking out the Valkyrie: Ragnarok tag (worth bookmarking the link too).
Not recommended for readers under the age of 12. 
Gawn Dwargstul stood atop a rocky ridge, surveying the desert with his telescope. Its gears whirred like angry bees as he refocused the lenses. Below his vantage point, Ratta spat into his goggles and wiped them with the corner of his greasy apron.
“Grease, grease is what she needs. No water. She has water, plenty of water. Grease will keep her smooth.’ Ratta muttered on.
‘I’ll run smoother with some water.” Gawn removed the telescope from his eye, revealing a harsh vertical scar over his eye.
Gawn was a handsome dwarf, with thick black hair and a full beard he kept in a simple braid. He had sharp green eyes under his thick eyebrows. Blue tattoos covered his arms, the entwined dragon lords of Fear and Death. ‘Come on Ratta, you old fool. Cap had good intentions, but no amount of fresh air will do you enough good. Back to the Rat.’
‘Aye. Grease. Greasy gears. Good, greasy gears.’
Gawn patted the older dwarf on the back and led him over to a hole in the ground, which they promptly disappeared into. There was the muffled clank of a metal hatch closing, followed by the growl of an engine. Suddenly dirt exploded up from the hole, sending down a shower of grit. When the dust finally cleared, the hole, and the dwarves, were gone.
The Rat was a sleek mine crawler with eight births and a cramped cargo bay. It was a machine to be proud of, with an intricate combination of valves and chain-driven cogs that worked together in synchronized harmony to propel the drilling rig through the earth. As much as Gawn loved the Rat, it was his brother crewman that filled him most with pride.
Big Beir was the crew’s cook and joker, a dwarf who never seemed to worry, no matter what life threw at him. He stood near the Rat’s small stove, rummaging through a box of dry rations. ‘Anything?’ He asked the returning dwarves.
‘Not a drop.’ Gawn said.
Sal was Bier’s opposite, a contemplative loner who seldom shared his thoughts. He was dependable to a fault and the most widely travelled of the crew. He sat cross-legged on the decking, cutting wood for the stove.
‘See anything?’ Gawn asked Sal.
‘Same as you, I reckon. But follow this ridge and we’ll hit something.’
‘Aye aye.’
‘Or dive and we’ll hit all the water we could ever want.’ Tav said, lazily buckling on his breeches as he stood by his bunk. The ship’s weapons master wore his dusty orange hair in a tight mohawk that showed off the scars that crisscrossed his scalp.
‘I told you Tav…’ Sal began.
‘The Abyss runs shallow here, Tav. We can’t dive, Tav. Your mother’s a whore, Tav. Give it a break already. We’ll find water before we ever hit the boundary. And don’t give me that ‘saltwater’ nonsense. We’ve got the Geezer.’ Tav thrust his thumb over his shoulder. In the shadow of another cot, an older dwarf harrumphed. ‘Not you too, Geezer.’ Tav said, throwing his hands in the air. ‘To the Abyss with all of you, I’ve got munitions to polish.’
The young dwarf threw open a hatch and disappeared inside, just missing the laughter that erupted in his wake.
‘So, Geezer, is it true? Can you turn brine into water?’ Gawn asked.
The old dwarf rose from the shadows. He was bald, but his long white beard was braided through with golden talismans.
‘I can turn brine to wine, and more. Lead to golden ore, or your mother into a lusty…’
‘Oi, that’s enough.’ Gawn interrupted, but the gleam in his eye was full of laughter.
‘No. In a different time, maybe,’ the Geezer continued, ‘but now, no, impossible.’
‘Why?’ Sal asked.
‘The Thirteen Kings have forbidden the use of magic.’
‘So the legends are true? There were spell weavers? And magic smiths?’ Gawn asked.
‘Aye, there were. There are. But we have been ordered by the King’s Council to cease the practising of magic. So it has been for three hundred years.
‘Without exception? All we want is a little water, Geez.’ Bier said. ‘Or ale. I could do with ale.’
‘No. I’ve been ordered by the Council—we’ve all been ordered—to cease the practising of magic.’
‘But why?’ Sal asked again.
‘Because the cost is higher than we dare risk. When I was red of hair we practised magic freely, but then, one day, the order came down from the Thirteen Kings. They said that there was a greater risk involved in the use of magic than we fully understood, though what it is I cannot, even after all these centuries, even guess at. I don’t doubt their reasoning though. Magic is, in some ways, like a machine. You turn this gear that way, and the other gear moves in the opposite direction, as it is meant to. In other ways, magic is mysterious and fickle, like the threads from which it is woven. When you pluck on a thread, who can truly know what’s listening at the other end, or what effects the reverberation of that strand might have.’
‘So, no exception? None at all? Even if it means dry rations or a nice pot of hot soup?’ Bier said, lifting up his box.
‘Your food’s not worth his effort.’ Gawn retorted, and they all laughed. The laugher helped numb the truth of their situation. Their last water rations had run out a day ago.
‘Grease me girl. Grease me girl.’ Ratta began muttering as he wandered off in search of his oil can.
‘By my beer barrels, what does he get up to below?’ Bier asked with a chuckle.
‘Better not to ask,’ Gawn said. ‘For your own sanity.’
‘Bier lost his sanity when the beer ran out.’ The Geezer retorted.
‘But the magic,’ Gawn asked ‘can you get us water?’
‘Better we don’t need to find out lad. Better to find it ourselves, the hard way, the way we’ve for all these years.
|
|
|
Heaven & Hell: Aasimar & Tiefling Ancestries
|
$4.95
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Book of Races — Bunnygirls
|
$1.00
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Forest of Secrets (D&D 5e)
|
$3.95
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
News from the Realms
What's new at Rising Phoenix Games? Let's take a look:
Bunnygirls
April 1st wasn't much fun for many of us this year, but we still had a good laugh with Book of Races: Bunnygirls. Kim Frandsen's newest book for 5th edition is available on our Rising Phoenix Games store, on Drive Thru RPG, on Paizo.com, and on Itch.io.
Till next time, stay well!
Rodney Sloan
Rising Phoenix Games
|
|
|
|
|
