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“Roanin, we must get you to safety,” said Cannick.
The elder dwarf put on his boots, then reached behind his bed and pulled out a wooden sword decorated in symbols along the blade and over the hilt.
Max and Milo glanced at each other. It looked like a child's toy. There was no way Roanin could defend himself with it.
Roanin flicked the sword and a changed rolled over it from its hilt to its tip. He gripped it firmly in his hand and lifted it in the air. The symbols remained, but the hilt was solid gold and the sword was smooth silver. “This will do nicely,” said Roanin. He placed the sword flat against his forehead, closed his eyes and whispered to it. The shouts outside grew more intense. The tension in the room grew thick as they waited for the elder dwarf to finish. He opened his
