Dreams
Dominar Khask was not known for being sentimental but couldn’t help but feel some pride as he watched a bustling camp spring into being. It had been a hard march through dangerous territory to get to the shore opposite the Slidecrown Isle, and a difficult if short boat ride to the island itself. Despite this his legionaries cleared a section of forest with admirable speed, only needing slight encouragement from their drillmaster’s lash. That lumber would be put to good use in building palisades once the ditches had been dug around the camp. More symbolically, their metal banner rose high above, letting no one doubt that the Iron Golems and more importantly Khask had claimed this area.
A native of the Ghyran colonies, Khask did not have contacts in the Ferrium Mountains, or an ancient lineage born of conquest, unlike that smug Garn who had also put himself forward to lead this expedition. What Khask did have was a modicum of wealth from the porcine beasts his family grew to feed the Iron Golem settlements in Ghyran, and sheer bloody mindedness in pursuing his goals. It was the latter that caused him to challenge Garn to combat for the right to lead this force.
A good memory, Khask thought. Garn had been dismissive of his family’s business, asking why a pig farmer thought he could challenge him. It was very satisfying shattering Garn’s skull with his hammer, in memory of his fallen rival the Dominar chose a brazen boar as his warband’s symbol, and had it painted on his warriors’ shields and banners.
And so it was Khask that came to Slidecrown Isle, at the head of a scouting force of several dozen legionaries. His orders were to ascertain the truth of the rumors of this place, that it was home to great riches of Aqua Ghyranis and a magical artifact of great power. Any plunder he gained while here belonged to him and his legionaries, minus the customary cut to the home city.
Khask’s thoughts were interrupted by the heavy tread of iron shod boots. He turned around to see his Drillmaster, a brawny woman named Mayra, approaching.
“Indulging in daydreams, Dominar?” Mayra asked.
Khask considered for a moment whether the Drillmaster’s words were meant as an insult and should be responded to as such. Mayra had a lineage that traced back to the Chamon capital of Onyx Fist, if a somewhat tenuous and distant one. She could resent a provincial like him having the rank of Dominar. Many in her position might. On the other hand she had been nothing but exemplary in carrying out his orders and maintaining morale, and her challenging words always seemed to be more directed towards keeping him on his toes rather than undermining his authority. The Dominar shrugged, deciding to answer directly and honestly.
“Dreams? Maybe, but not an indulgence. I only remember how I came to be here and to what purpose.”
The Drillmaster cocked her head as she considered his words.
“And what purpose would that be, Dominar?”
Khask glanced down at the hammer in his hands, then up at his banner high above the camp.
“To impose the Golems’ will on this land, take its riches for our own, and see the fires of industry take this forest. To strengthen the riches and power of my family, as well as those of the Iron Golems.”
Mayra nodded.
“A good dream, Dominar. May you have to will to make it reality.”
Her purpose evidently finished, the Drillmaster walked away, leaving Khask still unsure if he was being insulted or not.
