Chapter 12 Chapter Nine Not a Little Boy Anymore

Regis stretched lazily with his back against his favorite tree, and yawned big.The sun shone through the branches, illuminating his cheeks.His rod stood firmly beside him, but the hook had not been baited for a long time.Regis rarely caught fish, but he took great pride in the fact that he never wasted bait. After returning from Dulin Town, he would come here every day.He's wintering in Bryn Shander now; with his good friend Cassius.This city on a hill cannot be compared with Calimport, but the palace-like mansion of the speaker here is the most luxurious in Icewind Dale.Regis thought he had been wise in convincing Cassius to invite him to spend the winter here.

A gust of cold wind blew across the Pond of Dulden, taking away Halfling's contented sigh.Although halfway through June, it was the first hot day of the short summer here.Regis decided to make good use of the day.He hadn't been out in the morning for over a year, and he wanted to stay in this place, strip off, and let the sun pour warmth into every inch of his skin until sunset. A howl on the lake caught his attention.He raised his head, half-opening his heavy eyelids.The first thing he noticed was that his belly was noticeably bigger after the winter, which made him feel very satisfied.From his lying position, he could only see the tips of his toes.

Four ships were crossing the lake, two from Tamarin and two from Targos.They constantly shift positions and change directions to pass their opponents, their sailors cursing and spitting at each other's ships that fly the flag of each other's cities.For four and a half years since the Bryn Shander War, the two cities have been effectively at war.Yet their battles are mostly with mouths and fists, not weapons.Many boats were knocked against rocks or stranded on the beach Regis shrugged resignedly, slipping his head back into his folded vest again.The ten towns haven't changed much in recent years.Regis and some of the other speakers had had high hopes for the unity of the communities, though Kemp of Targos and Agovar of Tamaran had feuded over the Dark Elves after the war.

Even on the same lake, the goodwill between these long-standing enemies lasted only a short time.The truce between the towns of Kadineva and Kekkoney lasted only until Kadinewa's boats caught a rare five-foot fish on the lake that Kekkoney had given them as compensation. Ceded from the waters taken by the expanding fleet of the Eastern Exile. What's more, Meadtown and Dougan's Hole, two plain but brave towns to the south on the Redwater Lake, strongly demanded compensation from Bryn Shander and Tamaran.They had suffered heavy casualties at the Battle of Bryn Shander's Incline, but they had never felt that it was their business.They felt that those who benefited most from uniting the towns' efforts had to pay the price.Those northern towns of course refused the request.

So the lessons about the benefits of unification were quickly forgotten.The Ten-Towns were as scattered as ever. In fact, it was the town of Lonely Forest that benefited the most from the war.The population of Ten Towns has remained unchanged.Rich seekers and fugitive thugs continue to infiltrate the area.But an equal number were killed, or learned of its barbarism, and returned to the more hospitable South. But Lonelywood has grown remarkably.Lake Duerden has always been the most stable steelhead trout production among these lakes, and due to the constant struggle between the town of Targos and Tamarin, and the location of the town of Bremen is often affected by the Morioka River. Due to the excessive troubles, Dulin Town has become the most attractive among the four places.People in this small community even used slogans to describe this place as "the home of halfling heroes", and the only place with tree shade for hundreds of miles.

Regis relinquished his position as spokesman shortly after the war, a decision he had made with the townspeople.Now that Lonelywood is famous, and free of its notoriety as a "melting pot of villains", it needs more active people to sit on the council.Regis didn't want to be burdened with those responsibilities anymore. Of course Regis found a way to trade his reputation for profit.Every newcomer here must hand over a portion of his first catch in exchange for the right to fly the Lonely Forest flag, and Regis convinced the new spokesman and other town leaders that if His name is used to call for new immigrants, so he should also get a share of these taxes.

The halfling smiled happily as he thought of his considerable wealth.He spent his days peacefully and leisurely all day, spending most of his time leaning against his favorite moss-covered tree, casting his fishing line in the water, and waiting for the day to pass. His life has taken such a comfortable turn, and the only work he does now is carve bone ornaments.His engravings are now ten times more expensive than they used to be, partly because of his little fame, but mostly because he convinced connoisseurs who came to Bryn Shander that his unique The carving method and style make his carvings have special artistic and aesthetic value.

Regis patted the ruby ​​pendant hanging from his bare chest.Lately he seems to be able to "convince" anyone to do anything.    The hammer smacked against the gleaming metal.Sparks arced from the anvil and disappeared into the darkness of the chamber.The heavy hammer was easily guided by a large, muscular arm, hammering again and again. The blacksmith wore only trousers and a leather apron around his waist in this small, hot room.Soot lined black lines between the muscles of his broad shoulders and chest, and his sweat glistened in the orange light of the smithy.The regularity of his movements and the unfathomable ease with which he moves seems unfathomable, as if he were a god who created the world before man came into existence.

A smile of approval appeared on his face as he felt the iron harden under his hammer.He had never found such power in metal before; it made him test the limits of his energies, he felt himself tremble slightly, and it drew him in as much as war, where he could prove his strength. "Bruno will be delighted." Wulfgar paused for a moment to consider the implications of his thoughts.Although he remembered his first day inside the dwarves' mine, he smiled.What a stubborn and angry youth he was then!Being cheated out of the right to an honorable death in battle by a loudly complaining dwarf who defends the sympathy he volunteers for those he doesn't want is "a wonderful thing".

This was the fifth and last spring of his seven-foot stooped work in the dwarven mines in his contract.He longed for the freedom of the vast tundra, where he could stretch his arms high enough to touch the warmth of the sun or the invisible gravity of the moon.Or he could lie flat with his legs outstretched, and let the endless cold wind touch him with icy coldness, and the crystalline starlight fill his heart with mysterious visions of unknown horizons. For all the inconveniences, Wulfgar had to admit that he would miss the heat and noise of the dwarven halls.He had been bound by the savage norms of his people, which considered it shameful to be captured.During his first year as a slave, he kept chanting the song of Tempus, hoping that Tempus would give him strength to avoid being assimilated by being with the weak and settled people of the South.

Bruno is as tough as the metal he strikes.The dwarf professes no love for combat, but he swings his dented ax with deadly precision and can take down opponents as strong as an ogre with a laugh. Early in his captivity, the dwarves had been a mystery to Wulfgar.The young barbarian was forced to respect Bruno, who had honorably brought him down on the battlefield.Even so, the two of them were clearly incompatible enemies on the battlefield, but Wulfgar was puzzled when he saw an honest and deeply rooted emotion in the dwarf's eyes.He and his kind had come to plunder Ten-Towns, but Bruenor's vague attitude towards him was more that of a strict father than that of a slave owner.Yet Wulfgar still remembered his own rank in the mines, for Bruenor would often lash out at him and use insulting words, making Wulfgar do menial and even shameful jobs. After many long months, Wulfgar's anger also dissipated.He began to accept these sufferings stoically, heeding Bruenor's orders without question or complaint.Gradually, things got better and better. Bruno taught him how to work in the smithy, and later how to forge metal into weapons or tools.Finally, on a day Wulfgar will never forget, he was given his own workshop and anvil, where he could work alone, unseen.Still, Bruno would stick his head out from time to time, complaining about his wrong shots, or giving him some guidance.But the point wasn't Wulfgar's freedom, but his renewed confidence in this little workshop.Since he raised his own hammer for the first time, the tenacity of a slave to keep his mark has been replaced by the hunger and careful dedication of a craftsman to his work.The savage found himself unable to bear a single imperfection; he sometimes remade the whole thing for a small imperfection.Wulfgar was delighted with the change of mind, thinking it was a trait that would help him a lot in the future, yet he still didn't know why. Bruno called it "character." The work also brought him many rewards in the flesh.Cutting stone and hammering metal had hardened his muscles, transforming his lanky youthful frame into a muscular body of unrivaled strength.And he has extraordinary energy, because the dwarf's never-ending work rhythm has made his cardiopulmonary capacity reach the peak. Wulfgar vividly recalled his first conscious thought after the Battle of Bryn Shander, that he had sworn that when his term as a slave was up, he would kill Bruenor in revenge.He bit his lip in shame.He was amazed to learn now that he had become a better man under Bruenor Warhammer's tutelage, and the idea of ​​raising a weapon against the dwarf made him sick. He channeled emotion into action, hammering hard on the iron with his hammer, gradually hammering its impossibly hard front end into the shape of a blade—it would be a good sword. Bruno will be delighted.