Pools of Darkness Read Online Free PDF Page B

be more and more dwarves and fewer giants battling. Ren became the lead figure in a wedge of death boring through the ranks of the giants and half-orcs.
    And then only one hill giant was left. Panting, Ren moved toward the armored foe. The singing stopped suddenly, and the ranger heard a gravely shout behind him: “Back off, human. This one’s mine.”
    Ren looked over his shoulder to see fifteen dwarves, all that remained of the forty that had entered the fray.
    The speaker was the biggest and strongest of the lot, but obviously battle-weary. In one hand he held a shield too large for his short frame, and in the other hand he grasped a hill giant’s spiked club. Even Ren would have struggled to wield such a club. The dwarf swung the weapon in his hand like a small mallet.
    “He and his tribe stripped our mine and killed many of my people. I will have the final revenge on him. And nothing will stop me.”
    The tone of his voice and the fire in his eyes left no question that anyone arguing would become his enemy. Ren lowered his sword and backed away.
    The dwarf began his chant. The remaining dwarves took up the song, but stayed a respectful distance away from the two opponents.
    The last giant was also obviously some type of leader. The sixteen-foot-tall creature was armored from head to foot in bronze plate mail. The armor surprised Ren, since hill giants weren’t normally intelligent enough to make use of anything more complicated than animal skins for clothing. It must have been made or stolen from a band of ogres or evil humans. Ren was also curious about the baton of bronze the hill giant carried.
    Between the dwarf and the giant, there was no fencing, no circling, no testing each other’s skills. There was only raw hatred, spawned from generations of conflict with the other’s race. The dwarf threw down his shield and ran at the giant as fast as his stout legs could bear him. The hill giant tossed away his shield too and smashed at the earth with his baton. Huge sprays of mud and water flew into the air with every blow. Both foes lunged at each other with all their might. The baton sailed toward the head of the dwarf, and the dwarf’s club crushed the chest of the bending giant. Both were dead before they hit the ground.
    Ren shook his head over the waste of the dwarf’s life. It was as if the warrior wanted to die in battle to remove the stain of being captured by an enemy. There was no logic to the sacrifice, but hatred was rarely logical.
    Another gravelly voice diverted his attention. “Human, what is your name?”
    “Ren o’ the Blade. What are your friends doing?” he asked, watching the remaining dwarves moving slowly around the battlefield.
    “We never leave a battlefield without killing any wounded enemies or those faking death. It is our way. We owe you a debt of steel and blood. Such things aren’t taken lightly by my kind.”
    A thought came to the ranger. “If you feel you owe me a debt, I’ll consider it settled if you’ll take these orc totems to the human settlement of Glister. I’ve hidden more totems in the woods. If you’ll collect them all and present them along with this charter to the council there, I’d be most grateful. You can tell them Ren has accomplished his mission. Will you do this?”
    “We would do this and much more. We have heard about the ranger who kills orcs for the right to settle in the Valley of the Falls. Know this day you have become a warrior brother to all our kin. We will spread the word about you to our brethren.” The dwarf bowed respectfully. Ren flushed at the honor.
    For the next few hours, Ren helped the dwarves bury their dead. The orcs and giants were left to the elements. At first, Ren thought about looting the bodies of the orcs, but he knew the dwarves would view such actions as dishonorable and disgusting.
    “By the gods, I’m tired,” the ranger said.
    “It is the weariness of battle and victory. We feel it also. But we dwarves welcome