Editing Fawn BW XXXVIII

Fawn 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 slenderer.  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 Fawn 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, Fawn 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. 

“What will happen here?” Fawn asked.

The dwarf leveled his big green eyes on the Mage, “The Drow will land and head west…”

“It is likely that you will be outnumbered”, Fawn whispered, “This has happened, has it not?”

“Indeed, but we were resourceful; we merely wished to buy time to prepare more adequately for the defence of your castle.  Mandur herself has ordered this; she understands well your plight and the need to ensure that Milai has a 
stronghold once more.”

“But what happened? Why are you showing me this?”

“this sealed our fate,  Bringing our forces here allowed Malor to escape and gave the Drow easy access to the Dragorald.  They side-stepped us and, instead of heading to Fontainver, they sped North to aid Malor.”

Darkness crept in as Fawn slept once more; it was not long before he heard a familiar voice and seemed to wake to find he was looking at Rhionne. “Friend, wake up!  Wake up!  Look!”  As he shook off the receding drowsiness, Fawn felt as though he came out of a cloud and before him was his old friend; the Ranger stood on a rolling plane of deep green grassland, dressed in winter furs, pulled closely about him. Fawn’s eyes were drawn to where Rhionne 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 his friend, Fawn asked who it was, but the elf 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. Fawn recognised Enrodire, leader of the lost souls.  

He was approaching rapidly despite the wolf’s long slow gate.  As it approached Fawn realised that the wolf was large enough to look him in the eye. Leaning forward in the saddle, the dwarf shouted, “My folk have failed!  Our Queen is lost! Raise your friends bring them.”

“We have Enrodire, your Queen is safe…”


Once again, the image changed, and Fawn was plummeted beneath the earth to a darkly lit cavern of immense proportions.  Another wolf lay within.  This wolf was truly monstrous, with a disproportionately large head.  However, it is not until Fawn sees the great gold dragon, chained and muzzled, lying a little further into the cavern that the true size of the wolf becomes apparent.  At least half the length again than the dragon and with a head twice as large, the wolf is vast.  Its fur is mangey, its eyes as black as coal, and its teeth unnaturally sharp and yellowed.  It stirs as if sensing Fawn’s presence, sniffing the air as it rises and stretches.  It growls as its huge head moves from side to side searching.  A sound Fawn will not forget; seemingly overcome with fear, Fawn wakes with a start, covered in sweat.