The Fate of the Dwarves - By Markus Heitz Page 0,208

made of sigurdacia wood, the inlays and runes are from all the rare metals to be found in the mountains; the blade, however, is edged in diamonds.

The weapon was forged in the hottest furnace possible. The name of the item is Keenfire.

Forget everything you have heard from the charlatans.

This one is the only true Keenfire. It was found on the dried-up floor of Weyurn’s lakes and was smuggled out of the land under the greatest of perils for the finder.

The location was near the hole from which Lohasbrand emerged. I am not able to say how this occurred.

A fisherman’s son brought the ax to me, saying his cousin had found it. He had shown it to a dwarf, who recognized its true value and killed the man. However, while fleeing, the dwarf needed to cross a river and drowned, when justice and the curse of Elria triumphed.

The fisherman wanted nothing to do with the ax because he feared the dwarves would attack him for it, so he sent his son to me with it. I made him a very good offer and so was able to take possession of Keenfire.

I know it is the legendary ax with which Tungdil Goldhand performed so many valiant deeds for Girdlegard. I was intending to keep it safely against his return, but without him it has no power, so I’ve decided to part with it. For gold.

Should the hero ever return, give him this ax. I am certain he will amply reward you.

Sincerely,

Esuo Wopkat

Ireheart whistled. “That’s the best story so far. At least the facts seem to match up nicely.”

“How do you mean?”

“It sounds genuine. If I remember rightly, the last Unslayable ran off with Keenfire and threw it away en route when we were pursuing him.” Ireheart beamed. “He will have thought a lake would be the last place a dwarf would want to search for it. So he tossed it into the water before he went down the shaft.”

“You don’t really believe it, do you?” Balyndar shut the little book and chucked it back into the broken cabinet. “And anyway, the thing’s been stolen. It could be anywhere by now.”

“Hey there!” said Slîn, at the entrance, holding up a dusty ax. “Look what I found outside in the dirt. It was smack in front of my boots.”

Ireheart and Balyndar looked at each other.

The fourthling blew the encrusted sand off. “I don’t know what kind it is, but I’ll have a better idea when I’ve given it a bit of a wash.” He inspected the blade. “Are those diamonds? Who do…?” He noticed the other two were staring at him, then he fell silent, swallowing hard. “By Vraccas!” he croaked in awe, kneeling down and placing the ax reverently on the ground in front of him.

“By Vraccas,” said Balyndar and Ireheart simultaneously, coming over to the doorway and crouching down to look at the weapon.

Ireheart took his drinking flask from his belt and poured some water onto the ax head to reveal some of the fine detail. “I…” His voice died away.

“Charming!” Slîn heard a chinking sound behind the two dwarves and raised his crossbow. He saw a dagger slip forward in the cabinet, fall off the shelf and drop on to the counter. He was just drawing breath again in relief when he noticed a sword releasing itself from its fastenings and sailing down to the counter as well. “Something weird is happening here,” he told his companions, who were intent on examining the runes and inlays. “We must warn the others.”

“Just shoot the silly mouse if you’re scared of it,” Balyndar said briskly, misinterpreting the sounds.

“Yes, before Franek’s spell makes it grow the size of an ox,” added Ireheart, completing the thought as he ran his fingers carefully along the ax blade. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

Slîn had leaped up, not wanting to believe his eyes: Shields, lances, daggers, swords and other weapons were zooming together from all corners of the room to make a monster with human form. A deadly creation, born from magic.

“Absolutely charming! I fear the maga wasn’t using the right spell when she checked this place out for safety,” he said, speaking very fast.

“Oh, so it is a giant mouse?” the fifthling mocked.

“Turn round and look, you idiots!” snapped Slîn, aiming his bow at the creature—well aware this would not help. Franek had told them that only magic itself could overcome one of these creatures.

“Mind yourself, gem-cutter. You can’t talk to me like that just because we let