Aurora Magazine 2019

The Godslayer Chronicles: Godsbane

Karen Muñoz

Before my morning mug of Longbeard Lambic – a dwarven drink that helped pull the fatigue from my bones – I found that most tended to avoid a run-in with me. I wasn’t sure if it was because I wasn’t always the most patient before my morning pick-me-up choice of beverage or if it was because my friends had all seen me singlehandedly take on fearsome creatures five times my size and feared I would start throwing punches, if disturbed. I supposed it was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because it seemed less likely that I would be exposed to ridiculous ideas before I was fully awake, giving me ample opportunity for time to myself. A curse, because I hated that friends and acquaintances alike thought of me as someone they had to tiptoe around, to avoid a wrath I never intended to turn on them anyway. I was a friend and humble blacksmith first. Noticing it was getting close to time for the meeting Tibe - rius – the leader of our rag-tag group of adventurers - had called for, I ordered my morning drink and grabbed a table toward the back of the tavern. It wasn’t long before the rest of the group joined me, Tiberius not far behind. Once everyone was situated and the chatter had died down, he cleared his throat. “Have any of you heard of The Godsbane?” I looked up from my Longbeard Lambic, with confused intrigue. I kept hear - ing whispers of something called Godsbane, but nothing about what it was. “That sounds like an alcoholic drink.” Sval paused. “A strong one.” Tiberius rolled his eyes. “It’s a weapon that, if ever used, can alter the course of history as we know it.” Tiberius stared at each of us in turn as he said this, lowering his voice so none of the of the others in the tav - ern could hear him. “It is an instrument of unparalleled destruc - 72