Bankheim was one of those cities of grandeur; a pce where city pnners felt that another mo e, decorative building was always necessary. Everything seemed rger. Extravagance suffocated the ey. Evereets were wider than practical.

  “Such is the wealth that the peasant css produces,” whispered the hammer. “They toil every day and live in squalor so that the few live like this.”

  A fmboyantly dressed man approached the group apanied by a guard squad. “t Fooni wishes to indulge in your pany and cordially invites you to the pace.”

  “Of course!” said Lord Venning without any awareness of the situation. “I am quite eager to sample his hospitality!”

  The guards surrouhe group as the fmboyantly dressed mahem through the streets to the pace. Josarl’s mind jured images of bear traps iion to the guards, but said nothing. Lord Venning would start thinking like him soon enough. As he observed his surroundings, Josarl wondered if he was imagining the soulless expressions on the passersby.

  “Such is the price of their quest for ever rger numbers. They exist in opulenever knowing what it is to live.”

  Their journey ended on a covered baly overlooking the western city. Silky curtains and banners, thin and barely transparent, decorated any pce they could be hung from. A rge table with a veritable feast weled their eyes and guards stood at every pilr. Josarl could see the wheels turning in Lord Venning’s head, albeit slower than a waterwheel in a dry river. Bogdin and Ayunndrilsadil had already reached Josarl’s clusions, but wore the expression of a deer with o go staring down a stampede.

  “Wele to Bankheim!” procimed t Fooni. “Please! Have a seat! I have heard rumor of your expedition and you must tell me all about it!”

  “Gdly!” said Lord Venning. “It would be a great service if yht news of the war in turn.”

  “Naturally, naturally!” the expression was jovial, the tone warm and the doors behind them locked. The t waved them towards the table. When all were seated, he began. “The war is still brewing. Bubbling, but not simmering. Raiding parties, from what I have heard, pee our borders regurly. They drive off the peasants, sughter garrisons aroy mos. Barbaric as they may be, it is still not war. Our armies are not yet gathered and theirs are still gathering around Darkgate. No one is sure how those scouting parties are getting in. Lessdor should be nigh inaccessible apart from Darkgate or the far, far east. But enough about that. Tell me about your journey.”

  Thus began The Great Bb of 9,567 as Lord Venning talked.

  “Our jourruly began shortly after the succession ceremony! Our new king made dealing with the hammer his first priority. We stumbled almost immediately when his majesty hahe hammer over to this fner instead of me, but he pced me in charge of the expedition, so he’s not wholly inpetent. We left the very day. you imagine! We hardly had time to prepare. Not even a farewell feast in my honor! Returning to the topic, I led them here through many trials! We faced the Red Rider! Quite thrilling, though I’d say reatest struggle would be with all those zy peasants fleeing towards the capital. All so dirty. No css or style, just dirt and rags! Ugh! It was disgusting!”

  “And yht the hammer safely here?” said t Fooni.

  “Oh, yes!” said Lord Venning proudly. “Nothing will take it from us!”

  “Excellent. Hand it over.”

  Lord Venning’s face exploded in surprise. “t Fooni! What mutiny-”

  “Give me the hammer now.” The t snapped his fingers and the guards stepped closer.

  “This one believes he trol me. Let him have me. There is no dao your mission.”

  The hammer’s fidence made Josarl uneasy, but he remembered that his armor was not meant fhting and decided to hand the hammer over anyways. He rose, holding the hammer in front of him. The t rose at his approad accepted the hammer.

  “With this hammer I fe ons that will y our enemies low!” decred the t.

  “You are an exploiter!” the hammer’s whisper now only spoke to the t. Josarl, however, could guess at its words as he watched the t’s expression ge. “Your wealth is ied and your training and education bought with the bor of others. You have earned nothing in your life. This position was hao you out of obligation, not because you deserve it. Your struggles have always been self inflicted. Running out of pheasant breasts is enough to ruin an evening for you because you’re a weak, spoiled brat. A child in a man’s body. No one respects you. They only bow and scrape because they are forced to. The peasants live in squalor because the fruits of their bor are stolen by you. You have a choid you choose to carry on like this. You-”

  t Fooni practically shoved the hammer bato Josarl’s hands. “I ot fathom how you have resisted that thing for the st fifteen days.”

  “Tell him I said he’s a little bitd his father was too,” whispered the hammer.

  “It has been a trying time. However, they say that the hammer affeobility more severely. I am but a humble schor in my homend.”

  “You must protect his feelings because the slightest insult would send him spiraling.”

  “You may keep the hammer,” said the t. His pallor had faded noticeably. “In fact, I will help you on your way however I am able. Is there anything you require?”

  “We could use more food,” said Lord Venning. “We meant to buy some when we arrived here.”

  “Of course,” said the t.

  “If we are staying for the day,” said Josarl, “I would like to learn more of your history.”

  The t said, “For ret affairs I or Lord Venning answer most questions. Histories about the a enemy are of little io me.”

  “There is Old Man Zishon,” said Keeta. “He’s an old family friend and knows much of the history of this nd and city.”

  “Then I shall start with Old Man Zishon tomorrow m,” said Josarl. “Thank you.”

  “I will take you to him,” said Keeta. “It will be good to see him again.”

  Old Man Zishon lived in a house up against the outer city wall. In fact, the back wall of his house was the outer city wall. The man himself lived up to the name. He sat in a rog chair in the middle of the main room, dozing. Wisps of white hair dangled morosely from his head and his skin seemed to g to his small hunched form as if his muscles liquefied and drained away.

  “I better be able to,” he said when their visit was expined, “I was the king’s personal historian for many decades. What would you like to know?”

  “They say the Dark Lord is the a enemy,” said Josarl.

  “Yes. Ten thousand years ago, the oldest legends tell of the abinal elves. There were two, the dark elves and the light elves. Much about their cultures was lost, but their beliefs in natural bance helped maintain peace between the peoples. Then, three thousand years ago, man arrived in this nd. The light elves, misnamed wood elves by mereated with disrespect, but were powerless to stop from being crowded out. However, the dark elves resisted. Their king was sin without a successor, so one of their lords rose above all others. This lord of the elves became the Dark Lord ahe ter offensive.”

  “Excuse me,” said Keeta. “Are you tellihat the Dark Lord was actually defending his home?”“Yes,” Zishon nodded sagely. “Few like to remember that we stole this nd. And fewer still like to remember the shameful ways we have treated the elves. Our aors mao vihe light elves to help us. Our birength defeated the Dark Lord and all surviving dark elves were put on a reservation.”

  “Lessdor?” asked Josarl.

  “Correct.”

  “Then the orks once were dark elves?”

  Zishon nodded. “Lessdor is a wastend. The volo at its heart belches toxins into the air always. Over time, it deformed them into the orks that invade every tury or so.”

  “And the Dark Lord? How did he survive all of this time?” asked Josarl.

  “There is no way to be sure. It could be an impostor. It could be a shadow of his former self. All that we have is rumor and jecture. The idea of the inal returning as an undying wraith makes good motivation to defend one’s home, yes?”

  “Theroying the hammer does nothing, correct?”

  “It destroys a powerful artifact.”

  Josarl sighed. “So why isn’t this on knowledge?”

  “Probably because they cimed to be sing evil at the time and aren’t keen to let anything trary be known,” said Keeta.

  “If that’s true, why would they seo the one man that knows the truth?”

  “Why would they let a bunch of half breeds with more in on with orks than men guard Darkgate?” replied Keeta. “With these people it’s less about effitly achieving their stated goals and more about funting power.”

  “They speak truly. The mythology of the aristocracy is vital for maintaining power. Power, status ah are what matter. Their superiority is their identity, as is their demented dise from their fellow men,” whispered the hammer.

  “This ges… something,” said Josarl, unsure what he should do or think about the situation.

  Their return was quiet, stealing into the pad avoiding people without sneaking. her Josarl nor Keeta were in any particur mood for dealing with the locals. The night brought questions of correct a and Josarl could not help but wonder about the truth of things. Then he remembered.

  He wasn’t there to take sides. He was there to escape.