A Heroes Wisdom

[Ulfer]

[Can this be moved to single author stories, didn't notice that section at the time. Thank you.]

The old dwarf drew a large mouthful of beer, tilting the mug upwards to drain the dark amber liquid. Gorog, the heavily spiced Dwarven beverage, was a favourite drink of his younger years and, although the alcohol wasn't brewed by a Dwarf, the smell and taste still took him back to those easy-going days. He popped the empty vessel atop the worn oak table, the escaped dribbles wiped from his greyed beard with the back of his hand. The spice and peppers ran through his blood, and brought a flush to his face.

"Ah there's the fire" proclaimed the Dwarf before shuffling in his chair, the wood creaking with every shift of his weight.
"Had enough?" asked the Diaboli barmaid.
"Aye lass, more than enough."
"That's a Hexa then, Dwarf." While many would find her words adrupt and maybe a little insulting, Ulfer knew better. Diaboli weren't known for their diplomatic skills. Diaboli were straight forward. Ulfer admired that about them for Dwarfs were the same way.
"One second lass" he said, and reached for this purse. A shock ran up his left arm and Ulfer grunted in pain. The old warrior stretched and let the joint pop. Ulfer eased back into his chair and sighed heavily.
"Need the healer, Dwarf?" asked the barmaid.
"Nay, just a friendly reminder of how old I'm getting. That's a Hexa you say?"
The barmaid nodded.
"I'll pay his tab for him, m'lady" said a light tenor voice. A red Octa plinked down on the table.
She turned at the sound. A Ylian, not yet eighteen years of age, sat down opposite of Ulfer. The Barmaid scooped the money into her hand and eyed them cautiously.
"I promise the currency is good" the young Ylian said.
The woman gave a slight nod.
"Tell me if you need anything else, Ulfer."
"Aye, lass. And thank you lad." Although Diablo women are taller and fiery than most females in Yliakum, there was still a sway in this womans hips that brought a wry smile to the Dwarf's face. Ulfer rose from his chair and made his way to the warmth of the fireplace.
"Consider it payment, sir." the youth called out.

The Dwarf raised both of his eyebrows at this, then pulled a small pouch of tobacco and filled his wooden pipe with pungent leaves. Soaked in liqueur, cinnamon and clove, the smell soothed Ulfers nerves.
"Payment for what, lad?" I've offered no items or services for barter." Ulfer sparked a flame from the palm of his hand, lighting his pipe. He puffed on his pipe enough to let the tobacco glow, drinking in the sweet scent.
"I require wisdom," the young man dared, "Wisdom from a hero."
Ulfer limped his way back to the table and gingerly sat down into his chair. "And what makes you think I'm a hero, farmboy?"
"I... how did you know I was raised on a farm?" The Ylian asked.
"Your tan skin and sun bleached hair means you've spent many an hour in the sun. Your shoulders are the size of Ulber hearts. Your hands are calloused which means you've worked them well, but there's no scars on your arms, so you've never been in a fight." The Dwarf stroked his grey beard. "You are a farmboy."
His ego wounded, the young man puffed his chest, proclaiming "I've been in a fight, I've been in lots of fights."
"Oh really? Tell me about these battles then. They must truly be grand." Ulfer smirked at the boastful boy.
"I fought down a bully in Ojaveda, I smashed his head with a rock and opened a big cut on his forehead. One of his friends tried to interfere but I punched him and broke his nose."
The Hammerwielder belched up a huge cloud of smoke and began to laugh heartily. Tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. "Oh by Laanx, I haven't laughed so hard in all my life."
The young Ylians eyes narrowed on the old Dwarf "I killed a Tefusang once" he said bitterly.
The Dwarf wiped his eyes off with his sleeve "Oh ho? A Tefusang, you say? Tell me."
"This big monster ran into my village, huge pincer-like arms. It sent many souls to Dakkru." The young man paused. "It gored my father and slung his body into a ditch." forcing himself not to tear up, the youth continued, "Then it came for me. I pulled my sword from its scabbard. The thing slipped in a pool of blood and fell on top of me." The man's tenor voice grew softer. "The sword slipped through its ribs and punctured its heart."
Ulfer looked at the boy again. "So you killed a Tefusang."
The young Ylian nodded.
"With your sword?"
Again the Ylian nodded
"By accident?"
The boy raised his head, glaring angrily at Ulfer. A moment more and he stood, drew a short sword from his side, and held it threateningly at the Dwarf.
"Why do you mock me?" he challenged, "I would run you through."
The Dwarf sighed and tapped out his pipe "Son, put away your Tefu sticker before I bend you over my knee and spank you with it."
The young man quivered for a moment before thinking better of the situation and slid his sword into its sheath.
"Now sit down" Ulfer chided
The young man sat, abashed.
"Just what wisdom are you looking for?"
"I want to become a hero, a famed warrior" the youth said.
"Why?" Asked Ulfer simply
"Because heroes are admired" the young Ylian stated, as if it were common knowledge, "They're rich, and stories are written about them. They get all the glory, and they always get the woman in the end."
"Really?" the dwarf smiled, "No one told me about this. I should really talk to somebody about it."
"Are you mocking me again, sir?" the youth asked
"No, I'm mocking what you may have heard. You think heroes are rich?" Ulfer pulled out his purse and dumped its contents onto the table. Seven Tria, Three Hexa, Three Octas, and one Circle, bounced on the hard oak table. "You think I am a hero now?" he said, his voice becoming harder,
"This is all I have to my name boy."
"But the stories..."
The Dwarf interrupted, "There are no stories about me, farmboy."
"Y... yes there are." the Ylian protested. "I heard one. A few months back, I did, from Darven. Are you not Ulfernaut the Slayer?"
Frowning Ulfer repacked his pipe "I hate to burst your bubble boy, but I know the charlatan. His ego has ever more substance than his stories" Ulfer grimaced, adding "Whatever he may have told you about me is pure Gobble piss"
"You have to be lying, sir. I paid this man a good Circle to hear the story of how you slayed an Ulbernaut with just your shield."

[Billiy]

Love it Ulfer. Can't wait for the next installment. 

[Ulfer]

The Dwarf coughed, swallowing the bile that ran up his throat. "I beat an Ulbernaut?" he cries incredulously, "With just my shield?" Ulfer turned his head to the ceiling in frustration then asked, "Boy, have you ever seen an Ulbernaut?"
The farmboy shook his head.
"Their claws will flay a man's skin from bones with one swipe of its arm. It's thick hide will stop any blade bite save for finest ones. If it were ever to sink its teeth into you, it would hold until you die, long after it's broken bone. If you ever meet one mining, you best pray for a quick death. It's speed is so swift, you'll likely never see it until it's too late."
Chided, the Ylian hesitated to speak further. Seeing the pause in the youth's face, Ulfer asked the young man's questions for him.
"And the women?" Ulfer flipped his eye patch to reveal a closed eye, scarred shut. The surrounding skin looked if melted wax had been poured on and left to dry. "What woman would want to bed a hero with a monstrosity like this, eh?" Ulfer sighed "Done with a Fire Dagger that, women just love the sight of burned flesh, don't they?"
The Ylian wasn't the only person in the tavern to grow slightly sick at the sight.
"Sometimes at night, I can still smell the flesh cooking," Ulfer added.
The farmboy covered his mouth and clutched his stomach to quell the nausea.
The Dwarf called out, "Alellia, get this young man a drink before he gets sick on your floor."
Alellia drew a mug of beer from the keg behind the bar. The smell of was enough to catch Ulfers own thirst.
"Best make that two, Alellia" he added.
Alellia nodded and grabbed another mug. When she brought them to the table, the Ylian grabbed the mug from her and gulped down half what it held.
"Slow down son" Ulfer cautioned, "Drink too fast and you'll be twice as sick as what you're trying to prevent. What is your name anyway son?"
"Beracus" the young Ylian offered, "Beracus Varhrum, from Ojaveda."
"Ojaveda?" Ulfer reflected, "Nice place. Why did you leave?"
The young Ylian shrugged his shoulders. "After my father was killed, there was no way I could keep the farm going by myself. So I sold it. I decided to take the Tria and journey Yliakum to see what was out there."
"And what have you found?" The Dwarf asked.
Beracus sighed, "Very little, sir. Lies and backstabbing mostly. I really don't know who I should trust and who I shouldn't. It's all confusing."
"True, true. You're just young and gullible, my friend" said Ulfer, smiling at thoughts of himself when he was the same, "Learning who to trust will come with time and experience. In the meantime, I can only say: Trust no one."
"But how can one go through life trusting no one? It doesn't seem like much of a iife if you can't put your faith in others."
"But that Gambler you met? That Darven fellow?" The Dwarf paused long enough to savour a drink, "Should you have trusted him?"
Beracus sighed, saying "I guess not."
Ulfer continued "Has there been anyone you've met in your travels that you'd fully trust?
"No, sir." said Beracus, defeated.
"As well you shouldn't" With this, the Dwarf took a long draw off his mug.
"Mind you, I'm not saying there aren't ones out there worth your trust. Just be wary of the ones who want your company so much. Usually they just want your purse...
The Dwarf puffed his pipe, adding, "... or worse."
The young farmboy crossed his arms on the table and leaned in towards the Dwarf. "What about about my original question, sir? How do I become a hero?"
"I can't answer that son" Ulfer said flatly, "No one should be able to."
"Why not?"
The Dwarf drew a deep breathe from his pipe. As he blew the smoke aside he said, "Let me ask you this question: What makes a hero?
The young man shrugged "He saves the damsel in distress. He'll jump in front of an arrow to protect his friend. He'll slay a monster to save a village."
"Aye, admirable traits all. But do you know what makes a hero to me?"
Beracus shook this head.
"A hero is a guard who will wade into a tavern brawl without knowledge of who's armed and who's not. A hero is the priest who keeps preaching when no one hears his words. The farmer whose crops don't give the harvest he wanted, but can still feed his family during hard times. That's what makes a hero to me. The every man that doesn't seek the glory and doesn't get stories written about him, but keeps facing adversity head on." The old Dwarf raised an eyebrow at the younger Ylian. "It's not what you do that makes a hero, it's how it's done... and why."
"So it all depends on what people think a hero is?"
Ulfer cocked his head and shrugged his shoulders.
Bercacus frowned in thought. "You think I should have kept my family's farm, don't you?"
"I think you should follow your heart son." The Dwarf settled back in his chair.
"Is your heart really into traveling Yliakum and seeking fortune?"
The Ylian man thought for a moment. "I don't know." He cast his eyes downward.
"Where is your heart?" The Hammerwielder narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the Ylian.
"I don't know. I just know it's not at the farm." The youth looked up, as if starting to understand. "It's just not my home, not anymore."
Ulfer nodded and lifted his mug. "I guess it's true then."
"What's that, sir?"
"Home," the Dwarf said with a hint of a smile in his eyes, "is where the heart is."
"Yes sir, it is." Beracus smiled. As he stood, he placed another Octa on the table.
"What is this for?" Ulfer asked the young Ylian, one eyebrow raised in curiousity.
"For the beer, and," Beracus said, "for your wisdom."
The Dwarf nodded and puffed on his pipe again. Beracus turned when he noticed Allelia had walked up behind him. He planted a kiss on the womans cheek as he turned to go. Allelia scowled but couldn't help but smile when his back was turned. Ulfer Knalgan chuckled quietly. Beracus made his way to the door, stopping just as he grabbed the bronze handle.
"Sir, I just want you to know something before I go."
The Dwarf nodded.
"I still consider you a hero." Not waiting for a reply. Beracus Varhrum opened the door and passed through.
"And you're my hero, too, old Dwarf" Alellia said, leaning over to kiss Ulfer on the head as she moved past.
The Dwarf huffed and shooed Allelia away with a wave of his hand.
"Oh, shut up," he chided, but still smiling to himself.
Alellia deftly grabbed the Tria as she walked away, laughing, and leaving the Dwarf to his pipe, his beer, and thoughts of his next destination.

[Entevir]

Nice.You got some skill in writing.Also its my kind of story.Keep it up and hurry with the next instalment.

[Ulfer]

Thank you, I enjoyed writing it  glad you liked it.

[Mathy Stockington]

* Mathy Stockington shakes her head in disbelief that I missed this wonderful story.

Ulfer not only are you a great player, guild leader, and now I see you have a wonderful talent for writing as well. Please write me another story. I enjoyed this one. Thank you for entertaining me.

[Attersson]

[...]
A hero is the priest who keeps preaching when no one hears his words.
[...]

Yuppers!

[Morla Phlint]

Awesome story, Ulfer!  I enjoyed very much reading it. Hoping to see more from you soon 

[Ulfer]

Aw, Mathy, you are too kind I hope to see you in game, we don't chat half as much as I'd like.

Thank you for reading Atterson!

I appreciate the comments Morla, perhaps Ulfer will have another adventure soon, who knows?