B01DCAV4W2 (S) Read Online Free Page A

“You won’t need to worry about him again.”
    The door closed and the crossbar was put back in place.  He heard her crying softly inside of the hovel, and he hoped that they were tears of relief. 
     

CHAPTER 2

    Richter looked around.  When he had first come back to the village, dawn was just breaking.  His villagers had still been mostly asleep, but now the village had awoken and everyone was moving around.  Word of his return seemed to spread like wildfire.  More and more of his villagers came to greet him, some laughing, some cheering, but all decided to barrage him with questions.  After five minutes, he could barely hear himself think.  A gruff voice came to his rescue.
    “Get back, get back ya vultures!  Let the man breathe!  He didn’t fight through monsters for the past two weeks just to fight through you turkeys.  Get back afore I knock ya into next week!”
    Krom, the newly appointed and official smith of the Mist Village, elbowed his squat and powerful body through the crowd.  “I’m sorry about all of this yer Lordship,” the dwarf said loudly.  “It seems everybody in this village has forgot they have jobs to do!”  He looked around fiercely and most of the villagers backed away, cowed by the gruff blacksmith.  Soon only Krom, Randolphus and a gnome were still around.  Richter looked around for Terrod, but didn’t see him.  It wasn’t overly surprising.  The love of Terrod’s life was still recovering from an emotional trauma.  Since the growth of the Quickening, she had been spending time beneath its boughs.  Terrod said it was helping her to relax and hopefully heal.  He was probably up there with her, in the meadow just north of the village. 
    The gnome wasted no time speaking.  “Lord Richter.  I know that you planned to use the Magic Core to make a Forge, but that is a large mistake in my opinion!  The Core should instead be used to make a Philosopher’s Crucible.  We would be able to make the most powerful potions and powders in the River Peninsula.  Perhaps one day, in the entire Land!”
    Taken aback by the impassioned speech coming from the gnome, who Richter only vaguely remembered and recognized, he asked what seemed to be the most logical question, “Who are you again?”
    The wind seemed to be taken out the gnome’s sails as his shoulders slumped.  Before he could answer, Krom interjected, “It don’t matter who he is, yer Lordship, and it don’t matter what you think, Beyan.  I done told you fifty times over the past few weeks, if I told ya once!  The Lord here has decided to make a Magic Forge!”
    Richter opened his mouth to add to the conversation, but Krom spoke up first.  “And more than that!  If his Lordship wasn’t going to make a Magic Forge, he wouldn’t waste a Magic Core on what is basically just a fancy way to make wine!”  The dwarf started muttering to himself, “Probably couldn’t even make a decent ale with that cauldron thing, so what good is all yer potions and magicky elixirs?”  His voice rose again as he clapped Richter on the shoulder.  “You tell him your Lordship!”
    Richter opened his mouth to speak a second time, but again Krom started on a ranting discourse that focused on the foolishness of gnomes who couldn’t even be trusted to grow a beard.  Beyan wasn’t some shrinking violet, though.  He was puffing up his chest with the clear intent to start shouting down the dwarf, when Richter decided he had had enough.  If he was being honest with himself, watching the two short men, one bespectacled and portly, the other muscle bound and bearded about to come to blows, Richter just wanted to shout, ‘Cripple Fight!!!’  The only reason he had let Krom’s tirade last as long as it had, was because in his mind he was trying to figure out which of them would say, ‘Tim-maaae.’ 
    It was time to get back to business though, and overbearing or not, Krom had a point.  He put his thumb and forefinger in his