“I came here to drink ale and kick ass . . . and they’re all outta ale.”
Chapter I
High in the mountains a robed man looked down on the city of Ruk’nah as the sun set over the forested valley. He walked back from the balcony into a gold and scarlet chamber. His wizened eyes shifted to the center of the room. Looking back over the balcony, dark clouds were quickly blowing in from the east. He spoke in a venerable voice that held great wisdom.
“He is coming, master.”
“Of course,” snapped an ancient voice. “I know he’s coming. The Guru knows all.” The impatient voice came from a man who sat cross-legged in the center of the room, with closed eyes. His wrinkled face was totally at peace and his great white beard touched the floor even as he levitated several feet in the air. Although his face did not betray it, the question had annoyed him. Of course he knew that he was coming. They had been looking for him for years. Did Ganja think that he wouldn’t recognize him when he was so close at hand? How absurd.
“My apologies, master,” Ganja replied bowing his head. Ganja had been the aide of the difficult Guru for years. And now he was getting sick of it. The Guru’s attitude was unbearable and Ganja believed that he was getting senile. Sure he could still levitate and his knowledge was great but
“How dare you question the Guru.”
“Sorry, Guru,” replied Ganja ruefully. He had to remember that the Guru could still read minds. How unfortunate, thought Ganja, masking his thoughts, but we shall see soon enough, now that we know he is coming.
In Ruk’nah, the city famous for its old mines and huge forests, The Tavern of the Twin Moons wasn’t the most luxurious establishment...or the cleanest...or the one with the best food, drink, music, or entertainment. Among these other things the clientele that attended the tavern was not the best either. Truth be told there was no good reason for anyone to go to the Tavern of the Twin Moons. The only reason to go to the Twin Moons was to deal in a certain type of “business.” This being the case, at half a glass past sundown, the giant fire in the center of the tavern flared, revealing a full house.
The noise and smells that permeated the bar room were overpowering. However, that was not so different from nearly every tavern in that quarter of the city and the patrons were used to it. Laughing, swearing, and screaming all melded together and mixed with the reek of bad wine, body odor, and cheap perfume that hung like a haze throughout the place. A small band in one corner of the room attempted a wild foreign beat. Gyrating along to the music, numerous serving girls wearing just what was needed to be considered clothed, swayed through the room.
The door of the tavern burst open with a huge blast of wind and rain. Byron, the barkeep, watched casually as a cloaked figure entered, dark and dripping wet from the storm. Byron shivered from behind the bar at the glimpse of the weather as the thick door slammed shut. Why did it always have to rain here, he thought grimly. He still hadn’t lost the chill and sent someone to stoke the fire. Meanwhile, the dark figure had moved quickly through the din and sat down at a table in the corner across from an old man. The white-bearded man looked up slowly, just noticing the newcomer, and looked at him with a mix of scrutiny and suspicion.
“What are you doing back here?” he asked quietly. The figure wrapped a gloved fist around the hood of his leather cloak and drew it away from his face. Brushing several strands of hair from his blue eyes revealed bold, youthful features and a wide grin.
“I got it,” he said, tapping two fingers lightly on his chest, indicating a slight bulge in his cloak. The old man’s eyes widened with surprise at seeing the bulge.
“B-b-but,” he stuttered, “that’s impossible, I sent you out for it at sunset.” The grin widened on the youth’s face. He pulled a small velvet bag from a pocket in his cloak and set in on the table. The old man still wore a look of disbelief.
“What? Did you think I was gonna waste my time screwing around, Raeb?” he inquired sarcastically. “Jeez, somebody else would have stolen it by then.” His manner suddenly became more serious. His eyebrows lowered as another gust of wind came from the door with the arrival of another group of ruffians. “Now, where’s the gold?”
Raeb had not quite recovered from the shock and was still muttering to himself. “A job takes planning...finesse...premeditation...time...”
“Come on, I haven’t got all day,” the youth said impatiently. “You aren’t a guy to forget about a payment, now where is it?” he asked, pounding his fist on the table. The jolt seemed to snap Raeb back to reality. He grabbed the bag on the table and took a quick look inside. His bushy, white eyebrows rose and his eyes widened again. He set the bag down on the table only to snatch it up again to reassure himself of what he had seen. As before, a large glistening jewel shone back at him from the bag. He looked back in awe at the youth. The young thief sat with his arms crossed and a smug look on his face.
“I... I had no idea that it would be here this quickly,” the old man sputtered. “I know you work fast, but...” the old man stopped in mid-sentence and his mouth dropped open as he stared at something behind the thief.
“I know the girls here look good,” the youth muttered, “but damn! If this happens a lot, YOU should get out more.” The old man didn’t move. The young thief, cocked his head and gazed at him quizzically. An eerie silence had fallen over the tavern. “Okay, this I gotta see,” he said as he turned in his seat to look over his shoulder. His grin suddenly changed to a grimace. “Damn.”
The thief took in a quick breath before a huge fist smashed into his face. The force slammed him out of his chair and past his table with Raeb. The occupants of another table scattered as the youth landed, causing the cheap tabletop to splinter and snap in half. The youth groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows and tried to focus on the barbarian who had hit him. He was cloaked in a vast bear-skin and backed by half a dozen henchmen with drawn swords. Two menacing serpent tattoos snaked along his thick, ropy neck and up the sides of his shaven head. The giant barbarian turned to the youth and spoke in a low growling voice that rumbled through the dead-silent tavern.
“Moon, Master Jace requests that you return his property.” Kit Moon wiped blood from his lip onto his glove. He grinned and thrust a finger back at the table. The bear-like head turned and glared at Raeb. The old man shrugged innocently which caused the small black bag to fall from his sleeve onto the table. He glanced subtly down at the bag and back to the big man. The barbarian let out a low growl. Raeb cursed and without warning pulled a cross-bow from under the table and fired. The barbarian swung to the side as the bolt grazed his shoulder and drove into the face of one of his thugs.
As the henchman screamed, Raeb’s chair clattered to the ground. The barbarian turned to find the old man sprinting toward the entrance. Roaring, the barbarian ripped an axe from his fur cloak and took a step toward the running man. A pressure at his chest obstructing his movement caused the savage to look down. Kit grinned up at him.
“Yo,” he said before slamming a fist upward under his chin. As the giant stumbled backward with the impact, Kit’s leg flashed outward, catching the man in the groin. With a groan the man dropped to one knee. Without hesitating Kit pulled a bar stool from the floor and brought it down over the man’s skull. The last splinters of wood from the stool settled as the man hit the floor with a thud, bleeding from a large gash on his head. Kit looked up at the remaining five men with a stern, menacing frown. Suddenly, he pulled back one side of his cloak and a leaf bladed dagger flashed into his hand. In unison all of the men scrambled, tripping over each other, trying to get away. Each one flew past Raeb who had stopped half way to the door.
When the door finally slammed shut after the last of the men, Kit glanced around at the other patrons hiding under their tables or staring in awe. He reached down and snatched a leather bag of the belt of the fallen giant and walked up to the bar, onlookers clearing a path as he moved. He sat down as the other people at the bar scrambled away.
“Ale,” he said. Looking Byron in the eye, he put the leather bag and his dagger on the bar.
Byron hurried to fill up a mug with his best ale, which wasn’t really all that good. Everyone in the bar watched in silent expectation as the youth picked up the mug and brought it to his lips. Keeping his eyes on the bartender Kit took a tentative sip. He suddenly slammed the mug down on the bar causing everyone in the bar to flinch. His frown split into a playful grin.
“That’s some damn good ale,” he lied. Byron and the rest of the room began to breathe again.
Kit stood up and flipped his dagger back into its sheath. He slid the leather bag across the bar to Byron and strode to the door, motioning for Raeb to follow. The door shut behind them as Kit’s cloak rustled a last time. As the conversation and laughter began to pick up again and the bodies were carried out back, Byron looked in the bag. He drew in a quick breath. A pile of gold glittered up at him. He shook his head and looked wonderingly toward the door.
Chapter II
The moment the door closed, the utter calm on Kit’s face washed off in the pounding rain. Grabbing the old man by one arm, he sprinted down the street. Most of the old, wooden buildings in Ruk’nah were dark at this hour. However, it was not so in this quarter of the city. While no one was in the street, braving the storm, inns and taverns lined the road with warm, homey lights. Stopping at a large building, Kit threw a quick glance over his shoulder before yanking the old man into an alleyway.
“W-what’s going on?” stammered the old man. “Can’t you just -- ”
“Later,” Kit whispered flatly. He turned to a patch of shadow and gave a low whistle. Nothing happened. Raeb looked at him questioningly and shrugged. Kit strained to see into the shadow, then sighed with exasperation. “Now, bitch,” Kit commanded softly, turning his head, eyebrows rising with impatience but not malice. This brought a roan mare shyly from the dark, where she had been concealed. Grabbing the saddle, Kit turned back to Raeb. “We gotta get the hell outta here. I’d like to think that I was that good, but Kra’nok isn’t going to be asleep very much longer. We got some distance to make. Plus, I still haven’t got my gold.” With that Kit grinned and hopped on the horse’s back, pulling the old man on after him. With a quick snap on the reigns the two were speeding through back alleys, and away from the outskirts into the thick sylvan landscape that surrounded the mountain city of Ruk’nah.
Behind the Tavern of the Twin Moons, two of the stable boys were dragging the bodies out into the back alley where the rain pattered on the irregular cobblestones. As they strained together to move the huge body of Kra’nok, one of them slipped causing the body to fall toward the cobbles. As it was about to hit, Kra’nok’s arm flashed out and his body suddenly stopped a few inches from the ground. The boy looked on in horror and began to scoot away. Kra’nok’s chest reverberated in a low growl as he threw off the other boy. He pushed his body up and away from the cobbles. He spun around with a kick that slammed the boy into the tavern wall. As the boy crumpled and fell bleeding and unconscious to the street, Kra’nok rose from his crouched position.
The boy who had fallen had managed to gain his footing again. With a last look at the body of his friend, the other boy sprinted down the alley into the dark. Kra’nok glared after him. He looked away and gritted his teeth. How could l let Moon escape? he thought to himself, a mistake like that is inexcusable. With a roar of frustration he spun and drew a small axe from his cloak. It whistled from his fingers down the dark alley. The scream along with crunch of bone over the patter of the rain, did little to improve his attitude. Suddenly something occurred to him.
Kra’nok began sprinting to the wall of trees that surrounded Ruk’nah. Finding a huge pine he leaped from limb to branch, with powerful grace. In a few short moments he erupted from the canopy of the forest. He made several sweeps of the land before he found what he was looking for. A black stallion galloped into the forest on the far side of town. Rain mixed with blood from the cut on his bare skull ran down his face. Licking his lips, Kra’nok gave a woffish grin.
The trees in the forest surrounding Ruk’nah were huge, monsters of plants that rose hundreds of feet into the sky. Some were as thick as a small cottage. On nice days, the calm serenity of the forest could make anyone want to lose themselves in it. Thus, on a dark, stormy night when a person would get lost whether they wanted to or not, it only made sense that it would make a wonderful hideout.
Near midnight, a door burst open deep in the forest. Kit Moon made his way carefully through the dark room. He was still dripping from the rain that was pouring in the forest. It was almost pitch black in the forest now, with the clouds obscuring the moon, and he was surprised that he had found the right tree in the darkness. He smiled as he bumped into something small and hard. Kneeling down, a spark flew from’ a piece of flint as he struck it with his dagger. Within moments a roaring fire illuminated a cozy room with a wood stove, chest, a small table and chair along with a bed piled with blankets and quilts. By this time the shivering old man had made his way into the room.
“D-d-don’t you think it’s r-r-risky having a fire in the middle of a t-t-tree?” the Raeb mumbled softly. Kit shrugged and looked around. The dwelling had been cut from the center of a huge redwood, just a single round room with a door and a rope ladder that could be lowered to the ground. Kit laughed looking back to the dripping, shaking old man.
“As cold as you look, Raeb, I wouldn’t think that you would have complained.” Kit and Raeb managed to strip off all of their wet clothes and moved closer to the fire. Kit slipped a wool sweater on over his lithe, muscled body and lay, propped on one elbow, on the bed. Raeb sat across from him in the chair, wrapped in a quilt. Reaching into one of the wet garments Kit pulled out the black velvet bag and shook the jewel into his hand. Raeb looked down on it with disdain.
“If I had of known how much trouble it would have cost me, I never would have asked you to get it,” Raeb muttered softly. “But you can’t expect to steal things without planning every detail out carefully,” he added with a touch of anger. “How did you get it so quickly anyway?”
“The getting part was easy,” replied Kit, as he shook the water from his hair and brushed it from his eyes. “I just walked up to the guard, punched him in the face, took the jewel, set the house on fire and left through the front door. I didn’t think that the keeping part would be so hard,” he said, still gazing at the azure gem. Kit looked up at Raeb whose jaw had dropped, and smiled. “Like I said, I’m not gonna waste my time screwing around.”
“Yes, but doesn’t that violate some necessary law of thieving, or at least common sense?” Raeb said, managing to recover himself.
“I’m not sure but it worked. I have to say that I got worried when Kra’nok showed up at the Twin Moons though.”
“Wait a minute,” Raeb shouted in disbelief, “you know that barbarian?!”
“Sure, old friends,” Kit replied. “I just didn’t know he was here in Ruk’nah. I doubt we would have gotten out of that alive if you hadn’t pulled that crossbow on him. That distracted him enough for me to get close. I barely took him down, but then all I had to do was play it cool and it took care of the rest of his thugs.”
“Hold on, who is this Kra’nok guy?” Raeb inquired.
“Well, he’s a mercenary who is very good at doing what he does. What I can’t figure out is why they sent him and half a dozen thugs to take this back,” he said half to himself as he threw the jewel into the air and caught it. He hefted the bluish gem in his hand before adding, “It can’t be worth more than a hundred gold pieces.”
“You’re right on that,” Raeb confirmed. “I never met the person I was supposed to sell it to, or found out what they wanted it for. All I know is that they were paying good money.”
“How much?”
“A thousand.”
“Holy...,” Kit trailed off, his eyebrows rising in astonishment.” That alone would make me suspicious enough not to take the job…but you are a greedy old man,” Kit added with a laugh. His face became more serious as he looked down at the glittering gem. Kit slipped it back into the velvet bag and set it carefully in the chest beside the bed. He then removed a sheathed sword and a hardened leather breastplate and set them on the bed. He grabbed the old hilt of the sword and drew it from its ragged scabbard. Although the hilt was scratched and tarnished, the blade shone brightly in the light from the stove. “One thing’s for sure. I don’t think we should give this thing up until we find out what it’s all about.”
Raeb nodded wisely. “Yes, I agree. I want to know the whole story too. And I think I know a place where we can find out.”
Chapter III
The sun rose over the mountain valley that housed Ruk’nah. Sunlight glistened on the trees, still wet from the torrents of the night before. All that could be seen of the storm now were the last remnants of black clouds retreating west as a warm easterly wind ruffled the leaves on the trees. It was through these trees that two horses, one black, the other a tawny brown, made their way up the valley.
“So where are we going again?” Kit asked, his black leather cloak ruffling in the wind. Strapped diagonally over his leather armored chest the old sword hilt projected at an angle over his right shoulder. He wasn’t so sure that he trusted Raeb. He’d dealt with him before and liked the old man, but this time it seemed like the job had gone too far. It wasn’t going to keep him from getting his gold though.
“I told you,” replied the old man with a sigh, “there is a group of monks that live in these mountains. They are very wise, and have been here for centuries, since the first mines were built and Ruk’nah was a small village. If there are any special gems that came from here, they will know about them. Trust me.” Kit laughed from his horse.
“Trust you? It’s kind of hard to trust somebody known as ‘Raeb the Swindler.” Raeb laughed back sarcastically and muttered something about going to hell. Kit gave a mock hurt look. “So how far is it to this place anyway?”
“All I know is that when we can’t go up any farther in the valley, we’ll be there,” Raeb replied. He looked back over his shoulder at Kit and turned to look up the valley only to miss a far off rustle in the foliage of the still morning woods.
A foreboding, shaven head with two snakes tattooed on either side was shadowed in the trees along with a hulking body, rippling with muscle. From their perch in a tall pine, sharp eyes glared viciously through the woods. Without warning, Kra’nok threw himself from the tree. Flexing his knees, he impacted with the ground, startling the score of men accompanying him. None of the men from the night before had been included in this group. Those were the Nobleman Jace’s fools. In Kra’nok’s opinion, they should have been executed for their cowardice. Kra’nok rose slowly from his kneeling position. Yes, executed. Even though he knew that they wouldn’t have stood a chance against Moon.
He looked over the men in his assembled group. They were hard, grisly men. They were men who wouldn’t run at a sign of danger. They were Kra’nok’s men. if they did run, they would be executed. Kra’nok threw himself onto his huge draft horse. He motioned to his men and started to move forward.
“Come,” he said in his low, rumbling tone, “They are not far now.” The men moved swiftly and quietly through the trees.
Several hours later, Raeb sat on a rock catching his breath. They had been forced to leave their horses when the path became too steep and had been hiking for more than an hour. The trees had become sparse as they neared the ridge and the sun shone directly down on them with its fierce midday heat. Kit had taken his cloak off, and it hung over his shoulder, opposite his sword. His bronzed arms and shoulders were near the color of the hard leather vest he wore.
“Come on, Raeb,” he said impatiently. “It’s just over the next rise.”
“That’s what you’ve said for the last ten rises,” Raeb panted, sweat rolling down his wrinkled face. He took another swig from the water skin they carried. “I’m getting too old for this.” Kit shook his head and walked up the ridge and looked over. His mouth dropped open as he looked in awe.
“Uh...Raeb?” Raeb pushed himself up and walked to where Kit was standing. Just over the rise was a magnificent monastery of dark granite. The building was carved out from the living rock and built in an ancient architectural style. Strange patterns marked the walls of the olden dwelling and several balconies opened overlooking a sharp cliff on the other side of the valley. The building blended in so well with the stone contours of the mountain that it could easily disappear into the rock. Raeb looked at it, then back at Kit who was still staring.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” the old man questioned, “Let’s go.” Kit followed Raeb up a short flight of wide, stone steps before arriving at a set of large wooden doors. Raeb stepped up to knock but before his hand could touch the door the massive structure swung inward. The two men stepped back as a wizened robed man greeted them.
“I am Ganja. We have been expecting you. Come.” Raeb and Kit looked at each other with surprise. Ganja turned around and questioned, “You are coming?” The two nodded and followed him into the monastery.
Chapter IV
The Guru didn’t turn around as Ganja led the two men into the room of scarlet and gold. He did, however, open his eyes and speak.
“Ah, Kit Moon and Raeb Dagon. I have been expecting you.” Both Kit and Raeb started at this. Raeb because the man knew who they were; and Kit more because he wasn’t aware that Raeb had a last name. It was this and the fact that the man was levitating a few feet from the floor.
“How did you know who we -- ”
“SILENCE!” the Guru’s voice boomed through the chamber. “Never question the Guru. The Guru knows all.” He said this last piece with smug tone. “Now we have much to talk about. About your quest, and about the Jewel.” Kit and Raeb’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“You know about the-- ”
“The Guru knows all!” boomed through the chamber. Kit’s mouth snapped shut and he slipped on his cloak to ward off a sudden chill. “Now we, the monks, have expected him that possesses the Jewel to come for some time. It is clear that you are he. The Jewel’s power has been forgotten for centuries and only in the past few decades has knowledge of it crept into the minds of mortals. Now there is a sorcerer searching for the Jewel and he has a great deal of power vested in finding it. I cannot tell you more of the Jewel because not much more is known. Only that you, as the one who holds the Jewel, must keep it.” At this point Kit could no longer hold himself back.
“Sorcerers?! Magic Jewel?! And I’m supposed to believe all this? You gotta answer some questions right now!” Kit yelled banging a fist against the wall of the chamber. “How the hell do you know about the sorcerer? How the hell do you know about the Jewel? And how the hell are you floating in the middle of the air?!” It was amazing enough that Kit was able to say so much before the inevitable happened.
“THE GURU KNOWS ALL!!!” The chamber shook as the voice seemed to reverberate through the earth. Kit and Raeb flew backwards and smashed into the wall behind them. The sound gradually faded and the chamber stopped shaking.
“Nice one,” muttered Raeb, as they picked themselves up from the floor. Kit stopped rubbing a forming bruise from hitting the wall and glared at Raeb. The Guru abruptly whirled around and looked Kit in the eye.
“You must protect the Jewel. The only way to do so is to take it to the Wizard in Myradya, to the east. Raeb, you will accompany him on this quest. When you arrive there both of you will be rewarded with that which has been foretold. As he who has brought the Jewel, you will discover powers which you would otherwise never have believed you had. And remember, you must stay your course with an iron will, like...iron. Not straying from your course, like...a rolling piece of iron. But steady, like...”
“I know, I know,” Kit said tiredly, “iron, right?”
“NO!” boomed the Guru. “Like a rock!” Kit and Raeb looked at each other curiously. “...Only iron,” finished the Guru. At that moment Ganja burst into the room, gasping for breath. He gave a quick bow.
“Guru, there are men at the gate,” he managed to get out. “Armed men.” Kit looked at him knowingly. He nodded with a smug grin.
“It must be Kra’nok,” he said casually like it was a friend coming for dinner. ‘They’ve been tailing us for the past six hours.” The Guru looked at him with surprise.
“But. . . how did you know? You know nothing. The Guru knows all,” he said with disbelief.
“Meh,” Kit shrugged and began to walk towards the door. He suddenly stopped and turned to the old monk. “Thanks for the info. And while I’m here...would you mind telling me the meaning of life?” The Guru looked sagely down at him and nodded. “I cannot tell you, but...it has a lot to do with wood stoves.”
“Riiiight,” Kit muttered as he left the room. He and Raeb traced their way back to the entrance of the monastery and opened the doors. Kit looked out into the sunlight shining on twenty men, bristling with clubs, axes, and swords. Kra’nok stood in front, grinning smugly with his arms folded across his massive, bare, tattooed chest.
“We meet again, Moon,” came the thunderous voice across the steps. “I believe I’ll take that property back to Master Jace.” Kra’nok’s grin twisted into a frown. “Now.” Kit grimaced and ran a thumb down the bruise on his cheek. He slowly removed his cloak and let it fall to the ground. His right hand rose to his shoulder and gripped the hilt as his blade whispered from the sheath. The sun glinted from its polished surface. Behind him, he heard Raeb draw a dagger. He looked at Kra’nok and grinned.
“I hope the Guru was right,” Kit muttered to himself, “cause we’re gonna need some damn special powers to get through this quest.”
Chapter V
With a collective cry, the group of thugs rushed past Kra’nok toward the two men standing at the door. Kit gritted his teeth as his feet slid apart into a fighting stance. It seemed like the odds of getting through this alive were slim and getting smaller. Something in the voice of the Guru had been reassuring though. He wasn’t sure exactly how to interpret it, but he was sure that it wasn’t “watch your back when you go outside.” As the first of the men came within the reach of his blade, sudden grating noise made Kit turn around. The ruffians stumbled to a halt as all of the shutters on the monastery windows were thrown open. From the silence Ganja appeared at the door and bowed. A look of uneasy surprise spread across Kra’nok’s face.
“From the Guru,” he said, nodding to Kra’nok and returning inside. Kit looked Kra’nok in the eye and grinned. Kra’nok grimaced and immediately dropped to the stone steps. A stream of arrows poured like water from the windows and scythed into the ranks of men. There was screaming chaos as the men dropped to the ground with arrows sticking out from their mutilated bodies at every angle. When the rain of barbed metal had subsided, all twenty of the men lay on the ground while a low moaning issued from the survivors. Kra’nok picked himself up from the bloody ground, breathing heavily. His face was a mask of rage and frustration. He glowered at Kit who surveyed the carnage with an emotionless face. At last Kit’s cold blue eyes met with the boiling black orbs of the barbarian and he cocked his head to the side.
“Man, that really sucks for you,” Kit intoned calmly with a note of humor. With a roar of fury, Kra’nok abandoned all reason and threw himself at the thief. The giant covered the wide steps with giant strides, pulling two huge axes from among the dead. Kit set his feet and sprung to meet the charge, his ancient blade whistling through the sky. Kra’nok swung the axe in his right hand down on Kit with all his might. The two blades met with a collision of awesome power and the two men stood with blades locked as the ring of metal echoed through the valley. The two warriors were face to face, glaring, for half an instant before Kit threw himself from the arc of the second axe as it cleaved downward to bite into the stone step.
The two men squared off on the uneven steps above the slaughter and scowled at one another. Without warning Kra’nok flung one of his huge axes at Kit and dove for the kill. Kit fell backwards in his dodge and the axe whooshed over his head, several strands of his hair fell to the ground. The axe drove into the huge wooden door of the monastery, a hand span from Raeb.
The thick wooden door buckled under the impact. The wood groaned and cracked as the thick door split down the crack and fell in half.
The other axe, screaming towards Kit's head, bit again into the stone steps sending up a cloud of stone shrapnel and powdered granite as Kit dodged from its path. Kit spun from the ground with a kick that took Kra'nok's legs out from under him, sending the giant sprawling. In a massive show of strength and agility, the barbarian kicked upward, flipping to his feet. This was just in time to parry a blow from Kit’s blade.
The warriors fell toward each other again, their blades swirling so fast that they could only be glimpsed when they impacted and a shower of sparks flew from the collision. Kra’nok caught an upward slash from the sword and threw it to the side with his axe. In that instant, Kit was thrown off balance and Kra’nok slammed a fist the size of a small ham into Kit’s face which erupted in blood as his nose broke. The thief’s lithe body was caught by the blow like a leaf in a strong wind. It wrenched him downward, jamming his body into the stone steps with a sickening crunch. Impulsively, Kit swung his blade in a backslash that ripped into Kra’nok’s lower leg with a spray of blood. The barbarian roared and stumbled backwards as Kit shook himself to remain conscious after the blow.
Through hazy vision, he saw Raeb start to come over to help him, but Kit raised his hand. Raeb stopped. Kit pulled his body from the ground to stand and look blackly at Kra’nok. Kra’nok’s body was heaving as he breathed heavily and grinned at him, a red mist in his eyes, blood running freely down his thickly muscled calf. Kit’s bruised and bleeding face twitched as he spat some blood onto the stone steps. He blinked as a rivulet of sweat dripped from his brow into his eye. This was it.
Both combatants charged at each other, a ragged cry ripping from their throats. There was an explosion of sparks and resonance as the blades met. Kit’s sword was driven from his exhausted grasp even as it shattered the blade of the axe from the shaft. Both warriors looked in momentary disbelief, even as daggers flashed into the hand of each.
The forward momentum could not be stopped as the two bodies impacted each other in a death embrace. The daggers drove into the flesh, as the two struggled to comprehend what had happened. They still grappled weakly as both fell to the ground, blood pouring over each other from their wounds. The Jewel tumbled from a pouch at Kit’s waist as he came to rest on the stone steps in a widening pool of entrails and fluid.
“Moon...,” Kra’nok managed to utter, glimpsing the Jewel before his eyes glazed over in death. Kit too saw the Jewel and tried to grasp it before his eyes rolled back into his head.
“I’m...sorry...Guru...,” he whispered and then was silent. Raeb ran over to the pair but slowed down, approaching Kit’s body. He kneeled down next to the youth and glared angrily at the Jewel.
“I am...,” he choked, “sorry too, Kit.” He cried softly to himself, cradling Kit’s limp form in his arms. Looking back at the Jewel, the old man felt a surge of hate. He grabbed the precious stone and screamed. “It’s all your fault, God dammit!” The words echoed throughout the valley. Tears ran from his eyes as he held the Jewel and pulled his arm back to toss it over the cliff. A sudden, feeble noise behind him halted his motion. He listened and heard a weak cough.
“I wouldn’t *cough* do that if I were you...,” Kit groaned weakly, “We sort of *cough* need to take it to Myradya...” Raeb’s face split into a wide smile and he laughed out loud. With one last suspicious glance at the Jewel, Raeb thrust it into his belt pouch and bent to help his friend.
