Thornwick Rootshield

Thornwick Rootshield's Arc
Chapter 1 of 4

Thornwick Rootshield's dream is learning the lost songs that convince wild beasts to become loyal companions.

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by @Rayormy

Chapter 1

Thornwick Rootshield knelt beside a wolf's paw print in the mud. His stone fingers traced the edges carefully. The print was fresh, maybe an hour old. He stood and adjusted the massive hammer on his back. Somewhere in these wild lands, the old songs still worked. Songs that turned beasts into friends. He just had to find someone who remembered them. The wolf tracks led him through dense forest for three hours. They ended at the base of a cliff where great doors stood carved into the mountain. Runes glowed faintly around the stone arch, pulsing with soft blue light. Thornwick's moss-covered shoulders tensed. Dwarves lived here. Dwarves kept records. They remembered things other folks forgot. He stepped forward and raised his fist. The knock echoed deep into the mountain. If anyone knew where to learn the beast songs, it would be the dwarves who guarded their secrets behind these ancient doors. The doors groaned open. A dim hallway stretched before him, lined with torches. Thornwick walked inside, his heavy boots scraping against stone. The entrance hall opened into a vast chamber. Along the far wall sat a collection of wooden instruments. Pink and lavender light glowed from their surfaces. Ivy wrapped around the curved wood like living decoration. He moved closer and touched one gently. A soft note rang out, clear and true. These instruments could make the sounds he needed to learn. A steel sword lay propped against the wall nearby, vines twisted around its handle. Gray flowers circled the base. Thornwick lifted it and studied the blade. The dwarves had left tools here, things for working with beasts. The sword could help him hunt meat to draw wild animals close. The instruments could teach him which sounds they answered to. This place held everything he needed. He set the sword down and turned back to the glowing instruments. His stone fingers traced the wood. The lost songs were here, waiting to be learned. His journey to befriend the wild beasts would begin in this mountain hall.

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