Dopey dwarfs brother, named incorrectly, discovers he has a prophecy of his own to fulfill
| Dopey's Mom Started 10/14/18
"I don't see why-n' we hafta' keep naming our boys the same name. My son couldn't possibly be da prophesized one cause we can'no' even leave dis place. Aint no sleeping girl out dare needing a rescue, besides, don' ye be thinkin' if he was da prophesized one, his name'd be Dopey an not Mortog?" She argued. "So why in da nine hells are ye meanin' to shame me family's good name for a stupid thing like dat?" She stood defiantly in front of the council, her fists clenched at her sides, tears being held back by sheer rage and yet still one manages to find itself trickling down her hairy face.
"Cause its tradition and ye don'na stray from tradition. An'dat's all dare is to it. Now ye's gottin te find a way to either have another boy er we's gonna hafta give yer husband a try at someone else." That thought made her cringe visibly. Lars, the council's leader knew it would, and yet he took no pleasure at making that threat.
"But where-n the nine hells did dis stupid tradition come from and why-n dees specific families?" She asked trying desperately to get an answer to something at least.
"I'm no fer knowin' that Darcey. Ye just hafta follow the prophecy an there just aint no way around it. Now until ye pop out another boy we aimin to shun poor Mortog cause of yer own failure as a mother o' the prophecy." He simply stated as she recoiled knowing that Lars Thunderbelly meant business when he said he'd shun her boy. "Now ye go an' make another littlun until ye have a boy again; I's fer knowin that ye don't mind tryin an Forge is more an happy to help ye on that matter. Now be gone wit ye or we'll hafta do what we say we gonna do."As she turned and stormed out of the council hall she heard the council deciding to disperse as there was no further business for that day. 'No further business my big lumpy arse there aint', Were her final thoughts as she walked away in frustration.
She bowed her head because she knew that she'd been beat, at least this time. She turned and walked away with both tears and fire in her eyes. She could taste the salty shame as one of her tears made it to her lips. She wanted to scream and she knew she could only do that outside the confines of the hall. She also knew that it would be near impossible with war looming just outside their doors, so she just grunted and grumbled her way down the halls.
That got her wondering what in the world would possess their allies, (The humans and the elves), to turn against them and why she had to go through all of this during a time of virtual war. After all, what could her boy possibly do when none of them could even go outside the confines of the citadel?
Instead of heading back home or to the market, she decided to go to the sparring rink where Mortog had spent almost every minute of his teenage days. She needed to release some of that pent up frustration and angst that dealing with the council gave her. She thought she might find him there so she could spar with him. She was the most feared mother in the entire citadel; she was so feared that the battle commander, Dargus, was afraid to face her at times. She often sparred with her son so she could make him stronger and smarter and beat the other boys with ease; now that he was older he had begun tutoring some of the other boys so he might win a chance at beating someone his own age that could give him a challenge. He had been awarded the armor for his merit proving that he was, indeed, the best in his class. In this way it gave Mortog some measure of arrogance. He would act invincible to his peers at the rink, in fact every time he donned the armor he would think himself invincible, then again he always thought himself indestructible even as a young boy. He would often pick fights with the other kids in class and had just become a nuisance at times at school. That's why Darcey took an interest in training him, she wanted him to fight smarter, and if nothing else it would give him the chance to fight at home with her rather than in school against his peers.
She marched through the majestic halls; she marveled at the workmanship of the stone and mortar work and stared at the many statues of the kings and heroes of the past that lined most of the halls. She ran her hand across the smooth marble stones of the statues and could feel no imperfections, even after hundreds of years. The shadows of the torches seemed to make the statues come to life and move on their own, though she knew they were just statues, she still liked the effect.
This is one of the smaller citadels in the realms but no less magnificent or powerful. It was true that the citadel was akin to a hole in the ground, but most people have never witnessed its beauty in all its glory. The stone statues, most of them, made of marble were of the utmost quality. The stone stairways that lead to the upper chambers were breathtaking; and carved with perfect precision. The churches and political buildings were all adorned with golden accents, even the marketplace was of incredible craftsmanship. They took immense pride in all of the work that goes into building these citadels. Dwarves are certainly the most apt to work with stone and they are proud of it.
She walked past the market circle where people showed off their wares. It was dwindling since the threat of war, most of the people acquired goods from across the planes. Ever since the citadel closed its doors there have been less and less of the more exotic trinkets and baubles. There has also been a drop in the exotic foods that many families have gotten used to.
Ahead and down the cobblestone street is where the council member's homes stood. They were expertly crafted and even had golden accents. They only got to live in the homes as long as they sat on the council, once they were off, they had to move out. It was that simple.
She walked past the streets where the common dwarves resided. These were moderately built homes. Most had the main necessities such as refrigeration and some electric lights powered by the water turbines found near the river banks. Her house had some handcrafted furniture such as the dining room table and her handmade wooden desk as did many of the nobles and council members thanks to her husband, Forge. He had made them when he was a carpenter a couple of years ago. He had always wanted to start up a furniture business and was doing very well until about a year ago when the tensions began to rise between the elves, humans and Dwarves. All wood stopped coming into the citadel. Now he mines mythrill with most of the rest of the population. While most mined for the material, others were crafting the indestructible weapons that the rare element made. The craftsmanship of these weapons were unmatched even by the elves who made masterfully elegant weapons.
Her home was up the next road to the left, but she wasn't headed there right now; she started off to the sparring rink of the fighting school where her son was honing his skills. Her feet crunching on the hard stones that covered the cobblestone street.
She was hoping he would be there to take out a bit of her aggression. He would spar with his instructor on a frequent basis; but today he wasn't there. She wondered if he was with that wretched girl Telis.
She hated her; Telis thought she was better than everyone else. She had pursued Mortog based on his fighting prowess and his cockiness, pursuing him relentlessly. In Darcey's mind, all she wanted was the fame in dating the head of his fighting class. She had known many girls like her when she was in school, and she hated them all. Alas, there was nothing she could do about it. She had decided that he would have to learn the hard way that she was just a gold digging little bitch!
She arrived at the rink to find Dargus, who seemed to be awaiting someone. He was leaning against the wall of the stone built classroom where he would teach textbook maneuvers. He looked at her with some concern. He was a big dwarf with a large blackened beard and red hair. He was odd looking to say the least. He was wearing just his leather today, suggesting that he was going to be in the classroom with his students. Darcey was unsure of the time at this moment and didn't really care. She was frustrated out of her mind as well as having an anger balled up inside her so bad that she thought that the instructor may even be afraid of her; she had beat him in the past every time she sparred with him.
"Well met Mrs. Darcey. Lookin for Mortog? Ye just missed im." Dargus told her without moving an inch. With his arms folded across his chest, he continued. "It looks like yous' frustrated again. The meetin with the council ended the same way as last time, didn't it?"
"Yes, an I don't know when they're gonna pull their heads out of their arse's an look at things from me point o' view!" She snipped back.
"Give it more time Darcey."
"Time! How much more time do they need? It's only been fourteen years!" She spat.
"Well Mortog's not here can I offer my services as your sparring partner today?" He asked to lighten her mood knowing she could use a good fight to wipe her angst. He knew right away that he would most likely regret that move.
"Naw, I'd just put ye in traction again like me did last time." She said with her head down, almost sporting a smile remembering how awful she beat him last time.
"Now now, I learned a bit since last time, I know the move ye used on me and have even begun teachin' me more advanced students the maneuver." Trying to encourage her. "It might-n just help with that pent up frustration I see all balled up in ye." Now he was hoping from one foot to the other with his fists up in the air, blocking his torso and chest. She knew he meant well, but she wasn't in the mood to spar anymore; now all she wanted to do was sit down at home and cry, both in anger at herself for defying the council as she did, and for Mortog who could be shunned by the council and the rest of the clans. She dreaded that thought greatly, after all he was a champion fighter, but he also excelled in his academic studies, except for one class. Oh how she wished he was here now.
Dargus jabbed her shoulder once and went right back into the defensive stance with a smile on his face, daring her to hit him back. When he saw that she didn't respond he did it again, this time he saw tears begin to flow, and as sorry as he was that she felt that way, she was still a dwarf and needed to get it off her chest by sparing with him or anyone else who felt up to the challenge, and she was a challenge.
Finally, she looked up at him, she was considerably shorter than he was, and jabbed him back with one arm, easily blocking her jab, tears now streaming down her weathered face. Now he knew she was going to try to throttle him. He let her hit him three or four times before he came in with a hit and a shoulder press almost knocking her over backwards; she was so distraught that she almost gave up right there but she let that fuel her fight and she took it to him now using one of her knees to come up to hit him in the gut and shoved him backwards. He stayed on his feet and prepared to receive more hits from her. He wouldn't fall for the limber Darcey's signature move again. She came at him this time with her shoulder and he ducked down low as to not get flipped again, but with all her grit and rage she was able to slide forward against his chest to grab his wrist; positioning her arm so she could grab it in a nerve hold and flip him anyway, almost releasing his shoulder from its socket as he hit the ground hard on his back. Some of the tension she felt deep within her was being released in her tears as she continued the barrage against him. He hit the ground dazed for a brief moment as she tried to step hard on his chest but he rolled away from that easily. He made it to his feet once more as she immediately came in with another low shoulder push. He dropped his shoulder and ducked into it, the two slammed hard into one another. In all this time he made no move to attack, until now, as she came across the front of him sidestepping a direct punch he simply stuck his foot in between her ankles to send her tumbling to the ground landing on her face. Normally this would not have tripped her up, but for some reason the hearing she had just attended, had a more profound effect on her then she realized and she wasn't paying the proper attention that she needed too against a battle commander. Getting up, mad at herself for being distracted, she smiled at him. He took up a strong defensive position knowing that she was now at full strength. The look in her eye told him all he needed to know. He felt the anxiety welling up inside him; this was the most dangerous time to be fighting with her. It was time to be extra vigilant with her knowing that she really could take him down, she was now focused. She came in with a flying downward punch that he stepped away from. She reached behind her in a flash with her elbow striking him hard in the face, to which he just shook off.Twisting on her feet slightly behind him she quickly and forcibly took out his legs from underneath him. Before he knew it she was above him punching straight down at him while he lay flat on his back, moving to the side, her fist slammed into the ground hard. He twisted up and around to get her in an arm-lock behind her back. She snapped her head backwards forcing him to let her go by slamming the back of her head right into his nose, breaking it. Not knowing what she had done, her eye's still full of tears and anxiety, she swiveled around to grab the back of his head which was already down due to the pain and blood that now dripped on the ground and slammed her knee right into his face bringing his head into her knee, making his nose explode with even more blood. He stumbled backwards with his head still down and brought his hands up to surrender, after all, this was just a sparring session. She snapped out of her angry tirade and looked at him in awe. She realized that he was too fragile to go on with this sparring session, she felt proud of that. She quickly ended her onslaught against him. She was by far the quickest opponent in this citadel and beyond. She could easily do his job if it weren't for these stupid laws. She would be a most formidable ally should the war be taken inside these walls.
She backed away and saw the blood pouring from his face and all her senses returned to her in an instant, because she was female she felt more compassion than did males. If this had been a real battle, he would be dead already, but knowing that he was a friend made her pause for concern for his well being. She had done it again; she had hurt this monster of a battle commander whom she respected dearly. With all her wits about her she ran to get a cloth to sop up the bleeding and some bandages not knowing how bad it was. With tears in her eyes from all of . . . this, she began taking care of the dwarf who was, literally, twice her size and a dear friend.
"I'm so, so, sorry." She whispered in his ear as she tended to his nose, now realizing she had broken it. She couldn't talk for fear that she would fully break down in front of him and she promised herself she wouldn't show that much emotion and weakness in front of anyone let alone a battle commander; she could wait until she was home and alone, or could she? She started to weep right then and there, at first quietly, and then fully when he put his arms around her comforting her with his own degree of compassion. For a male he had a much more developed sense of compassion than most males. She sobbed uncontrollably in his arms for what seemed like an eternity. She cried for her boy first, then for herself for being so selfish as to break tradition and go against the council, and thirdly for this kind and gentle man holding her now as she sobbed, that she had throttled so. He didn't deserve her wrath or her friendship. He had always been a good friend to her family, but he has always said that he is a tough dwarf and is always willing to help them in any way he can. She felt bad that she had taken out her grief on him so. Yet he sat there bleeding, holding her and comforting her as she struggled to get away from him as she sobbed. It wasn't until she stopped sobbing that he held her by the shoulders holding her at arm's length with a sympathetic smile on his bloody face. Seeing this made her chuckle a bit.
"Ye' feel better now? I sure hope so, I don't know how much more o' that I can take."
She busted out a laugh spittle flying out of her mouth, tears still streaming down her face. She nodded and he hugged her one more time as her crying ceased.
"Let's not mention this to anyone, okay?"The old battle commander asked of her.
"Please, I don't want anyone to know how I broke down like this, I'm fer bein strong for me family." She told him with a weak smile on her face.
"Forget that!" He said with a smile. "I'm not fer wantin to let people know that I was beat up by a girl!" Jesting, he made her smile once more. She grabbed him and held him to her.
"Yer secret's safe with me Dargus." She whispered close to his ear.
She helped him to his feet and walked him carefully to his classroom.
"Ye should go see a cleric Dargus. They will heal Ye' up in no time." Concern in her frail voice.
"What? It's only a flesh wound, besides it gives me character and it also serves as a reminder to meself to never piss ye off." He looked back at her with a smile. "If-n ye feel better ye should go and get ready to welcome yer family home." He smiled and walked into his classroom. She can almost hear a hint of jealousy in his voice. "Next time ye need me, feel free to come back and kick me arse again. Next time me be wearin full armor, let me tell ye!" He yells from inside his classroom. She chuckles a little and turns to make her way home to her loving husband, remarkable son and all three of her daughters, with her head down still feeling the shame of the day.
Unbeknown to Darcey and her husband Forge, Mortog was down at the banks.
"So ye think ye's all that and a box of cookies do ye?" One of the older boys teased.
"Yeah, are ye that good? Or are ye just playing us?"
"Or worse yet, paying off Dargus?" The third boy said.
"Maybe ye need a good training lesson from us, what do ye think guys? That girl of yours might think twice when ye come home with a bruised face and a limp in yer step." One of the boys cracked and all three of them laughed together. They were all in Dargus's advanced class but he knew how to handle multiple foes, at least in theory, and he knew one of these boys, he knew it. He got in his defensive stance which was an illusion; his mom taught him how to quickly get into an attack stance from this position and actually strike as they came forward. His mother taught him much more than Dargus had. He had taught Mortog quite a bit though, but his mother taught him what the real fights might be like. He knew she had taught him well, and half his moves that he had learned from his mother would not be recognized by these foolish boys. He was fully prepared for the attack.
"Oh look, a textbook defense posture, how cute!" One of the boys taunted. "Did yer mommy cry today when my da told er' to shove it . . . again?" The leader taunted. Mortog hadn't known she went to the council today. "She was devastated!" He laughed. "To bad she really didn't name you Dopey, it would've suited ye nicely!" Mortog knew they were just goading him into a fight, but no matter how hard he tried to fight it, He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth as a single tear rolled down his face. His mother's honor was being tainted, again. Knowing he had to keep his wits about him, he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him, not in this fight.
"Show me what ye got little boy." Knowing well enough that you always let your opponent make the first move, otherwise it's not self defense and who knows, maybe they're all talk anyway. But he knew today there would be an end to talk with these three boys, they weren't here to tease or torment. He stared into the dark blue eyes of the boy just ahead of him while at the same time being extra vigilant to his peripheral vision to see any offensive moves they may take as they spread out all around him. He knew if the boy in front of him were to make a move he could also expect at least one attack from the side. His mom taught him that. Dargus hadn't taught him much about multiple-opponent fighting yet, that was for his advanced classes.
The boy in front of him flinched and at the same time he saw that to his right the boy was lunging for him. He simply took a step backwards and put his foot out in front of him sending the attacker to the ground roughly landing on his face. This infuriated the boy in front of him. Mortog took a step back knowing he was going to lunge forward. Watching his eyes he noticed the boy glance to his side and in anticipation of this move he deflected it easily. The boy on the ground was now up and standing behind the lead boy. With two of the boys standing directly in front of him he knew that an attack from his left side was imminent. As that boy came in, Mortog stepped forward so he was slightly in front of him, bringing his elbow up and hard back he cracked the boy on his left square in the chin sending him sprawling to the ground behind him with a squeak. At the same time the first boy in front of him lunged forward taking Mortog to the flat of his back on the ground behind him. The boy behind him had gotten up and kicked him square in the jaw knocking his head to the side. The boy on top of him punched down into his gut hard. This was all child's play to Mortog as the same boy on his left went in for another kick. He grabbed his foot with his left hand and twisted it to the side pressuring the rest of the leg. Freeing his other hand from the boy atop him, he forced the boy to the ground on his side. He heard a loud snap and a great howl from the boy, someone was getting hurt in this fight and he knew it. He felt another jab to his side; grabbing the boys arm he twisted it and rolled it out to his side until the boy's face was inches in front of his own. He just smiled and brought his arm straight down on him as he brought his head straight up, head-butting that boy hard, he rolled off to the side in pain and dizziness. He got up and looked behind him for another attack from the boy he spilled on the ground; he was still laying there in pain.
"Tough dwarf." Mortog muttered to himself with a chuckle. He smiled at the only one left standing and that boy had decided that he had had enough the rough and painful scratches on his face reminded him of what Mortog could do to him. The one he head-butted got up and looked at his friend on the ground then turned his head and looked for his other friend, not finding him, his lips curled up in anger. Mortog could see the infuriating look in his eyes; he was going to avenge his friend that lay on the ground behind him. Mortog just showed him his family's signature smile.
"Ye really do think yer better an us don't ye?!" He said in a fury. Mortog visibly chuckled and looked at his downed friend who lay there in pain, then back at the other boy with a smile. Mortog finally figured out that this was Branthony, one of the better students in Dargus's advanced class and now felt that sense of pride in knowing that the fight was almost over and that he had lasted this long with one of Dargus's best students. They squared off with each other. Mortog just squared himself for battle and simply gave a blood curdling smile, he just could not stop smiling, and he found it unnerved his opponent so he continued to do it. Branthony came at him clumsily. Mortog knew he had him beat. He beat himself, actually. He came at Mortog with a half assed frontal assault and he was able to deflect it easily. Mortog knew this game well, let your opponent ware himself down, and then make the final move that would end the conflict. Branthony was more angry than tired, so he had to continue to wear him down. They threw punches for a while and each blocked them with ease, he made no attempt to hit him hard, just to wear him down. He saw that Branthony was getting worn out.
"Have ye had enough Branthony?" He asked in a sympathetic, yet taunting manner to spur him on just a little more, he was having fun. He took a few more sloppy jabs at Mortog. He knew he could outlast him, but he knew at his best, he couldn't beat Branthony in technical merit; he just had to keep making him angry, angry enough to let him expel all of his energy. Something else his mother had taught him, if you can't beat them, then outlast them. The other boy was still on the ground whimpering, which just added to Branthony's fire. 'Here comes his second wind.' Mortog thought to himself. 'Now's the time to take im' down.' He will spend all of his remaining energy on his last attempt to take him down. Branthony lunged at Mortog, he dropped his shoulder like his mom taught him, hitting him square in the chest Branthony's eyes got wide out of surprise as the wind got knocked out of him. He grabbed Branthony's right arm and flipped him over his left shoulder. Branthony landed on his back hard against the ground with Mortog's foot on his neck and his arm in the air twisted and pulled tight against Mortog's chest.
"Yield to me Branthony." Mortog calmly demanded. "Go tend to yer friend." Branthony, breathing hard just shook his head knowing that he had been beat. Mortog slowly released him and he scrambled over to his moaning friend. Mortog watched as Branthony got up holding his shoulder and picked up his friend with the broken ankle. He continued to watch as they hobbled away.
Mortog felt both sadness at their arrogance, and pride at his remarkable win. Then his thoughts turned to his mother again as he turned to leave. This had happened before so he knows what to expect when he gets home. She just can't seem to recover her honor and he believes that she blames him for it.
A plan of action started brewing in his head as he walked home, yes, a grand plan indeed.
Little did Mortog know, a fellow student had watched the whole fight. He ran back to Dargus and reported everything that he had just witnessed.
"He took down three of yer advanced student's sir. He was both thorough and honorable. I could no' believe what I saw. He could beat the best of us, I sure would rather be his friend than his enemy, I'll tell ye that much."
Dargus dismissed him with a wave of his hand and sat on his bench. 'Like mother like son.' He thought chuckling to himself shaking his head. 'Now . . . what to do with him?'