Editing BW XXVI - Lan Zi

Lanzi’s Vision – BWXXVI

Though in a dream Lanzi thought he heard a familiar voice and seemed to wake to find he was looking at Morwath. 

“Friend, wake up!  Wake up!  Look!”  As he shook off the receding drowsiness, Lanzi felt as though he came out of a cloud and before him was his old friend; the Druid stood on a rolling plane of deep green grassland, dressed in winter furs, pulled closely about him. Lanzi’s eyes were drawn to where Morwath was pointing and, in the distance, he saw a dwarf riding a great wolf coming over a ridgeline.  

Seemingly awake now and turning back to face the Druid, Lanzi asked who it was, but Morwath had vanished. The dwarf’s red hair was tied back and plaited, threaded with silver ribbons that hung down his back. His small helm was beautifully made - a simple dome with cheek and neck guards it was ornately decorated with a scene of a mountain range where dwarven kings stood proud. His burnished mithril coat was studded with emeralds, over which a breast plate of burnished gold had been drawn, carved in the shape of a large tear drop. His cloak was fine blue cloth (enhancing the colour of his eyes), trimmed with ermine and embroidered with a depiction of an owl. His legs were covered by riding britches of hard leather onto which had been fastened thigh and shin guards, both highly decorated and studded with gems. His boots were armoured with metal, though pliable enough for riding. His axes were across his back and he carried a crossbow. At his sides were full quivers, slung like bandoliers. His face betrayed not an element of doubt or concern and his voice broke the early morning air. 

“Hail and well met Mage of the New White Council.  Allow me to introduce myself, I am Enrodire leader of those that you know as the lost souls.  I believe you were once given an errand to find us, were you not?  Do not fret, we have found you and, through your friend Morwath, have been asked to provide what assistance we may in these direst of times.  Well, once again we fight at the side of our cousins and we fight for the survival of the House of Dor. You know well that we have many wrongs to right and this is just another battle in a long war; a long road which will take us back to Dor and will see the death of the Serpent that usurped our forefathers. I promised our help and you shall have it.”  

He was approaching rapidly despite the wolf’s long slow gate.  “I have seen your coming, with the rest of the Council, and predicted your stand at Fontainver.” As it approached Lanzi realised that the wolf was large enough to look him in the eye. 

Leaning forward in the saddle, the dwarf continued, “You bring much of which was broken to this battle; I’ll give you the same advice as I gave the Druid: do not be tempted! My folk have failed this test in the past and we are still paying the price.” 

Lanzi felt transported through time and across the rolling countryside to a cliff top.  With the sea on his right and the sun setting slowly over the great forest to his left he looked across a natural harbour.  Suddenly, standing next to him was another great white wolf atop of which sat another dwarf whose beard was not yet full, who was shorter than the average of his kind and who was more slender. His hair was long and black as night, plaited in part and threaded with simple multi-coloured ribbons. His armour, shining in the sun, was well crafted and, despite its significant protection, did not look cumbersome. On his chest plate Enrodire’s symbol was embossed in gold. His rounded (Greek style) helmet had nose and cheek guards which obscured the dwarf’s features. 

Turning to look at Lanzi the dwarf spoke, “Hail Mage,” his gentle tone belying the menace of a race long forgotten by normal folk, “you seek assurance?” Stretching out an arm, the dwarf pointed his axe toward the top of the slope above the harbour, “Look then.”

As he peered into the gloaming, Lanzi detected the movement of hundreds of dwarfs seeking hiding places near the ridgeline. “There are more on the way”, said the dwarf matter-of-factly. 

“Is this where the Drow will land?” Lanzi asked, already knowing the answer.

The dwarf leveled his big green eyes on the Mage, “We believe so; that is the Druid told us to be ready here…”

After a brief pause, during which Lanzi assessed the lie of the land and the strength of the newly found ‘souls’, he pointed out the obvious, “It is likely that you will be outnumbered”, he whispered.

“Indeed but we are resourceful; at least we should buy you time to prepare more adequately for the defence of your castle.”

“We thank you and Enrodire for your assistance.”

“Mandur herself has ordered this; she understands well your plight and the need to ensure that Milai has a stronghold once more.  She also knows the importance of what you bear and the quest to ensure that these precious artefacts do not fall into the hands of the enemy.”