The Trials of Caste Read Online Free PDF

Master Trainer of
the Kale Gen, sat nursing various aches and pains he’d acquired during the last
piece of the yearling group’s training.  From his vantage point on the lowest
bench in the stands high above the floor of the gen’s cavernous arena he could
see several of his fellow Honor Guard warriors working on various portions of
the obstacles and constructs that formed what was known as the scouting trial,
putting in the final traps, openings, and finishing touches in preparation for
the event that was but two mornings away now. 
    It was in this arena, among its various
challenges, obstacles, and pitfalls, that the yearlings would demonstrate their
newly learned skills and earn their standings in the gen.  Indeed, these
challenges would determine who would be chosen to lead and who would be led.
    For as long as anyone in this great extended
family known as the Kale Gen could remember, the Day of Beginnings, which
marked the day their gen had separated from the four other original gens, and
its attendant Trials of Caste had been a significant event not only for the yearlings,
but for the entire gen.  Apart from the constant smell of cooking fires and the
preparations for the joinings of some of the females that would come of age
this day or from previous years, a constant hum of other activities led up to
the Trials of Caste. 
    Weapon smiths shaped poles into practice spears. 
Construction crews repaired obstacles and ensured the soundness of bridges and
the various wooden constructs that filled much of the main floor of the gen’s
arena.  It was a time of much excitement among almost all the members of the
Kale Gen.  For Manebrow, however, it was a time of great relief, as it meant
that his duties as trainer for this group of yearlings would soon be over.  This
was the comforting thought that he was pondering as he sat surveying the scene.
    From behind him a soft voice interrupted his
solace.  “Manebrow?”
    Turning to see who was there, Kormach Manebrow
raised the unique, thick, dark reddish-brown eyebrows that gave him his honor
name questioningly and pursed his lips.  “Kiria?” he finally asked.
    “Yes,” the young female kobold replied.  “Were you
expecting someone else?”  Her fine features and large eyes appeared almost
concerned, as if she didn’t want to preempt whoever the trainer’s other visitor
might be.
    “No,” Manebrow reassured her.  “I was waiting for
you alone.  It’s just…” Manebrow hesitated “it’s obviously been some time since
I’ve seen you.  You’ve grown up.”
    Though it was stated matter-of-factly, Kiria flushed
at the off-handed compliment and bowed her head down into the high collar of
the simple red wool dress she wore.  “It has been the better part of this past
year, I guess,” she answered then steeling herself she fixed him with one eye.  “I
can’t stay a young whelp forever, you know.”
    “I know, my lady,” Manebrow answered.
    “My lady?” Kiria repeated quizzically.  “Come now,
I’m not that old yet.”
    Manebrow nodded his head.  “Standing there in that
dress and with this adult voice you seem to have gotten, you are a clear
stand-in for Lady Kiri.”
    Kiria was taken aback at the reference to her
mother, gone to the place where the ancestors go six years ago during the orc
raid on their gen’s home.  The comparison left her flushed and speechless.
    Seeing her discomfort, Manebrow tried to change
the subject.  His efforts came off bluntly; he had little diplomatic skill left
after so many years in the harness.  “The purpose your father had in arranging
this tour was so that you could get a better understanding of what the yearling
group will be doing tomorrow.”
    Kiria shook off the memories that were dancing
around in her head, glad for the change in subject.  “Yes, I guess so.”
    “Well, let’s start with what you know already,”
Manebrow prompted her.
    Kiria thought for a moment, then remembering