The upper most villages of the Empire were some of it’s finest. Most being ancient beyond belief, every single house looked like it had more history than even the oldest ruins on the surface of Regalia. The houses were fashioned from stone and metal, both being worked without any need for mortar. Stone cleanly adhered to stone, with shining patches of metal as decoration and status symbols. Crests of every sort could be found on these walls, originally showing allegiance to a certain clan, now mostly reduced to a bragging right.

There was some status in being an older family though, and that could be plainly seen as he walked into Rigemire. For one, the scions of antiquity bore far more distinctive figures. Even beyond simply being beautiful as a rule, the older a clan was the more likely they had some sort of modification. The steel skin clan may have lost their name, but they had never forgotten how to make their children's skin even tougher than other dwarves. The other difference was far more meaningful to most other dwarves. And that was their Implements.

Mel knew very little about them, much the same that Tony knew very little about levelling and classes. But luckily, he didn’t need to know much to find a way to be useful to the expedition. As Tony put it “Your basically just going to follow me and make sure nothing stabs me in the back. Everything else you do, just a cherry on top.”

That suited him just fine. He got all the benefits without nearly as much of a duty in combat as he was expecting. He would get his journey in a moving city with ease. Or would it be merely on the city? What was the proper grammar for something like riding a city?

Mel looked at Tony “So we have a week to get ready, but you’ve said you already have everything ready to go right? So why hasn’t anyone else done this. I mean it’s a literal city. It’s got to be worth mountains of gold at least.”

Tony, who had the facial expression of a wooden board, deadpanned. “Cause everyone else whose gone vanished mysteriously.”

“I feel like that may have been a relevant tid bit to inform me of there, bud.” Sonic attacks that could leave one nearly concussed, or given that he hadn’t been to the doctor yet actually concussed, were one thing. Mysteriously vanishing was another. Admittedly mysteriously vanishing was a way cooler death, but it was still dying. Probably.

Tony shrugged. “You think people wouldn’t storm in there a thousand times over if they thought they had a chance? Right after the execution of every living creature in the city, the army who had done the brutal deed vanished. Couple days after the thing gets up and starts walking around.”

“An entire army?” Mel asked, confidence draining like a storm in a desert.

“Yeah, elites too. Some of them had Implements that made them unreasonably powerful. One of them could have fought off a hundred of the little golems without magic or steel. So for all of them to vanish like that? There is definitely something insane up there.” He said, as though it wasn’t absolutely insane.

They arrived at their destination, and their conversation slowed. He had only made it this far because he was being accompanied by a dwarf, but the scrutiny of the guards as Tony convinced them to let Mel into a restaurant was unnerving. He could understand it though, humans were known to be capable of destroying cities single handedly. An odd concept to think that someone more powerful than you was afraid because of what your species was known for.

Mel tried to decipher the meaning of the harsh and angry sounding words they were speaking but the dispute ended shortly. Mel walked into the gated courtyard, although it was nothing like the courtyards Mel had seen. Rather than grass, there was history. Every single inch of the courtyard was words and pictures, a tale of the clan from the moment it had been founded. He couldn’t interpret a single thing but it was interesting nonetheless.

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If anything the curiosity he felt made him want to learn the language. He wasn’t sure what it was called, but he was sure that Tony would help him learn if he helped with the city. After all, once the dwarf realized he was serious he promised to make an oath of friendship with him. Whatever that meant. It sounded like something he heard the elves did, where you would write down the nature of your relationship so that you would be able to remember it.

“I’ll go in first to talk to my Carver, then I’ll bring him out. Want anything to eat or drink?”

“A honeydrop and maybe some bread if you have any that’s warm.” He asked politely. It was incredibly rude to turn down an offer of hospitality, at least on the surface. He doubted it would be different here, but even if it was, he was a bit peckish.

Mel sat down on a chair that was made of stone, but found it more comfortable than most cushioned seats. Legions, dwarves really could do anything with a bit of rock. Even create life with it. He didn’t doubt that they were capable of much more than simply changing the properties of the stone. Some, he had heard rumoured, had the ability to transmute it into other materials. The main evidence that people backed this up with was the utter disdain with which they looked at metal as a form of currency. It didn’t seem to stop them from coining most of the money used on the surface though, or from using various treated woods to make their own ‘tokens’.

The table in front of him seemed to have been made for some sort of game, with a grid pattern and several lines creating a playing surface. There weren’t any pieces nearby, so he couldn’t try to figure out the rules even if he wanted to try. A crashing sound came from the house, and the gate guards turned around to send him an accusatory glare. That was probably fair. He would bet diamonds to dust that whatever had happened in there was related to him.

He would have won the dust too. A moment later an angry dwarf, of the same build as Tony but of radically different appearance, bursted out dragging Tony by his hair. “You!” Came the hateful call.

“Uh, hello sir.” Mel tried. His cloak and TC both began moving. TC flew up in the air, anxiously chirping. His cloak formed into a sleek and nearly form fitting suit. Combat mode. Hopefully it was unnecessary.

“Why in the name of Gorvus are you helping my son! It was bad enough he wanted to go for something insane as his Implement, but now he’s got support. What do you want? Gold? I’ll pay you a thousand of your petty coins to leave.”

“Well, actually I don’t particularly want any money. Being wealthy isn’t any fun when you can’t buy what you want.” He said calmly.

“Then what do you want?” He asked, still holding his son, managing to dangle Tony off the ground despite being barely an inch taller. Tony didn’t seem particularly disturbed by this. He simply hung there, a little embarrassed, but not seeming hurt by the death grip on his hair. Probably because it was made of stone, despite replicating actual hair perfectly.

“The honest truth is, I just want to go interesting places. Meet people like Tony, who want to perform insane feats. Maybe help some along the way. Beyond that, everything else is really just seasoning.”

That seemed to throw the man for a moment. “Then you’ll take no reward from this foolish mission, even if it succeeds?”

“Yes Carver, I told you already. If you could just listen for a moment.” Tony chipped in.

“I genuinely have no stake in the rewards, but if I stumble on some cool nick-nack I’ll probably take it. I’ll run everything by Tony if that would make you happier.”

A contemplative look gave way to a frustrated sigh. “Geraia go get us some refreshments” He yelled into the manor.

He sat down at the table, and then the conversation really began. His name was apparently Talio Riketen, which translated to hot blooded. He still had no clue how they were translating everything, but he wasn’t going to be rude and ask. The same could not be said for Talio who quickly interrogated Mel. Every question was checked by a small artifact that could supposedly detect lies. Mel hadn’t intended to lie, but he made double sure not to while he had that artifact.