The sunshine was bright upon Gliffbom’s exposed shoulders and head. The dwarf while still young was beginning to bald. It was a family trait that actually appealed to his sense of right. The young dwarfs shoulders pumped as he worked the billows and for the first time in a long time he sang as he worked.

Three days had passed since he’d met Gaaki. That woman had saved more than his life on the road. His attitude was only marginally better on the exterior but on the inside he was once again finding his focus. She hadn’t stayed in town long and was out in the country side again. Yet there remained a knowing in him, a knowing that he hadn’t seen the last of her.

The slow draw of summer kept him active nearly all the day and the work he’d found at the smithy did more than occupy his mind. As the day wore on Gliffbom took to chopping wood. The strokes of the axe felt good in his strong hands and he was reluctant to ever stop this kind of work. But just as the axe came crashing down to slice a solid hunk of oak in thought he heard a cry for help from the street.

As he turned around he got a full view of a young human female curiously dressed in tunic and trousers — like a man — wobbling just a bit on her feet holding her hands out in front of herself. Pressing a blade in her direction was an angry young human male, obviously about to do this poor creature harm.

For a moment Gliffbom had an image of his brother in a rage. A sense of doom filled his mind so thoroughly that he was flushed as adrenalin rushed through his system. Picking up a piece of wood in his right hand he launched it at the man. The blow of the solid oak chunk landed solidly against the man’s head. The blow sent him down onto his side unconscious.

The woman paused, placing her hands on her hips and looking down at the prostrate form of her assailant, then turned to her rescuer and ran towards him crying out, “Oh, thank Ioun.” She stumbled a bit as she ran, as if partially dazed. The very pathetic nature of her movements pulled at Gliffbom’s heart, which in his current state of regressed shock was right on his sleeve. The fear and relief that the young man’s anger hadn’t resulted in any injury to the girl flushed through Gliffbom like an elixir.

The power of his families loss catapulted in suppressed emotional energy was almost overwhelming. He found however, that by focusing on the woman he could remain solid in this place. She expressed her gratitude in a flood of thanks, her hand on his arm as she spoke. He was simply carried away by the cues and queues of the woman and soon found himself escorting her into a nearby Inn. The work at hand had been forgotten for the moment.

Saraneth, learned so much about this young and rugged dwarf that before long he found that he had given her much of his current pocket money and was telling her how much he loved the local daffodils.

The otherside of the story…


Lockdown Crythis djkester