the two of them with a disapproving glare. He realized that he was already drawing to the end of the story and he needed to make it last a little longer. Years of entertaining fellow soldiers with tales told him more detail was required.
"He knew in that moment that even if he did manage to shoot the bow and kill one of the hags, the other two would capture him as easily as they did me, so he devised a clever plan. In my quiver, he found one of my arrows that had a small load of blasting powder. He took it and the bow and fired the arrow into the fire over which the hags intended to cook me."
A few gasps issued from the young children in the audience.
"In that moment, a loud explosion filled the cave," the warrior continued. "And Brahgen drew his dagger and attacked the hags, who had no idea what had happened. He slew one almost before she realized he was there and gutted the next with a keen slash of his dagger. It was an impressive strike that I must take credit for teaching him."
That drew a laugh from his audience.
"Unfortunately, the third gathered her senses, moved to attack him, and forced him back. Before she could deliver the killing blow with her venomous claws, however, I reached out, still struggling to breathe from the spell they cast on me. It was not much but it was enough to distract her as Brahgen lunged forward with a dwarven battle cry I could not understand on his lips, slashed the hag's throat open from ear to ear, and broke the spell they had cast on me and saved my life in a single stroke."
The dwarves all cheered at the ending and a few of them uttered bellows of “GoldHoard,” possibly imagining that was what the youth had shouted.
The matriarch grinned and shook her head as the attention moved to the other side of the room where a song had broken out.
"I saw the bow you carry, barbarian," she stated. "I know for a fact that Brahgen would not be able to draw it. So, what truly happened?"
"There were no lies in my tale, milady," Skharr answered.
"Salah," she answered smoothly. "And if there were no lies, how did he loose that arrow?"
"I used my feet," her son answered and pushed his stool back to demonstrate. "I put the bow on my feet and pulled the string with my hands. I missed the first shot too."
Salah chuckled but still looked dubious. "You would have me believe that my son is a mighty warrior now?"
"The mightiest warriors fight with their heads before the first blow is struck," the barbarian said. "I think in that, your son is a better fighter than most would give him credit for. With a few years of proper training, he might well be one of the greatest ever to be produced by the GoldHoard and AnvilForged clans."
He turned to Brahgen but the young dwarf had been dragged away from their conversation by a group of young women already trying to gain his attention by listening and hoping for more stories from him.
"I suppose this is one of those times when a mother must stop doting over her son," Salah muttered. "I had hoped he would want to spend more time with me, but I should have known that the young women of the city would be on his mind as well."
"I would say he's had the attention of his mother all his life," Skharr told her as heaping piles of steaming food and massive barrels of mead and ale were served. "And the attention of the womenfolk is a little foreign to him."
She laughed. "Well, I suppose I should leave him to it. Especially if I have a desire for grandchildren."
That was a little more than he cared to know about Brahgen's family and he raised a flagon full of ale quickly to his lips. Thankfully, she was requested to speak to a few others of the clan, likely on important business that had nothing to do with him.
A heaping plate of smoked sausages, salted pork, potatoes, and what looked like rice but was thick, yellow, and smeared with butter was placed before him, and he could smell the spices that had been sprinkled over it. They made him think of home. Dwarves had a taste for spices and the tolerance for those that would have humans who weren't used to them shitting