Summer of Victory: Interlude #19

Moradin's Mercy
By Sean Hillman

He opens one eye and exhales through his nose. The world swims for a moment and his eye closes in self-defense. The nausea passes and he opens the eye again. His nose sniffs the air and then greedily inhales the aroma of incense and rock that surrounds him. For a human or a elf such smiles might cause panic. For a dwarf, the aroma of stone is true paradise.

Slowly the feeling in his body returns and he opens the second eye. It is fuzzy and not working as well as the first. He becomes aware of a sharp pain in his right hand and flexes the limb. Rolling his head to the side slowly, he sees the cause of the pain and a smile, the first in years, comes to his parched lips. His head rolls back and he looks up at the granite ceiling. Somewhere inside of him a tremor begins. It builds slowly but even the pain in his chest cannot prevent it from coming forth. The sound begins as a weak cackle but in moments it becomes a full throated dwarven laugh.

The laugh lingers and echoes through the room until finally he has the strength to call out the name he has longed to call out for so long.

"Moradin!"