I knocked on the sturdy wooden door, its rough surface cool against my hesitant hand. The high-pitched clanging from inside halted, and not long after, a burly dwarf opened the door. "Derek, my boy! What brings ya!"
The one standing in the doorway was my first and latest customer, Morid. We'd met by my second week here when he saved me from an awkward conversation with an overly enthusiastic young dwarven lady interested in human anatomy. He owned a successful blacksmithing shop and mainly produced tools for the miners.
"Hey, Morid. Unfortunately, I have some bad news. I won't be able to finish your gloves," I explained apologetically.
"Ahh, darn. Were they too difficult after all? Gloves seem hard to make, with the fingers and all," he asked, not seeming too mad about it.
"No, they weren't too hard. It's just that I don't have time to finish them. I'll be leaving Melgir tomorrow morning for personal reasons," I continued. Morid had bought a new leather apron from me the moment I opened shop and recently ordered leather smithing gloves.
I rummaged through my backpack and handed him the half-finished gloves and seven silver coins. "Here, you can have the prototype and the coins you gave me. They should be enough to hire another tailor to finish the gloves."
The man seemed offended by me, returning all the commission money. "Nonsense! Do ya have no business acumen! Keep half the money for a job half done," he chided, snatching the gloves and only three coins from my hand, leaving no room for thanks or arguments. It seemed he had a no-nonsense attitude toward the value of craftsmanship. "But more importantly, yer leaving already? Where to? I thought ya were settling down. Had a shop and everything?"
"You've no idea how many times I've heard that same line today," I chuckled. "It's the classic spiel you hear from every other young adult. I want to go out exploring and improving my skills."
I decided to give him a more simplified answer. By the fourth person I'd had to explain my departure to today, I'd learned that this explanation resulted in the fastest acceptance.
It seemed to be very cliche for combat-oriented youths to go out and explore the moment they grew independent enough, lured by the promise of stats and skills. The tradition had become ingrained in the culture, even though, in most cases, the youngsters would return either soon or not at all.
"Ahh, you too? I never bothered with such nonsense. Wouldn't have reckoned you to either, with how calm ya were... So who are you going with? I don't think the caravans leave tomorrow, do they?" Morid inquired. Admittedly, I was still a bit of an outlier since most would leave in groups or along trading caravans. It was hard to survive alone, after all.
"Well, you know... I'll tell you more about it at the Mountain's Brew tonight. If you're coming, that is. I still got to buy a few things for the trip, so I can't chat for long now." I decided to avoid the question, knowing the worried rant that would follow if I told him I were going alone.
"Alright, boy. I'll send ya off at the tavern," Morid nodded. "But remember, if yer dagger is ever getting dull, you know where to find me. I'll give ya a discount too."
I always appreciated his carefree attitude. "Thanks, Morid. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I really need to get going. See you tonight!"
With a final wave, I left Morid's shop and headed towards the market. Morid was the final customer I had to return the order to. The last thing left before the send-off and my departure was buying supplies.
As I walked through the busy streets of Melgir, I couldn't help but feel a tad bittersweet. I felt my departure sink in more and more with every customer I visited. Now, after the last one, it was as if I'd gone over the tipping point. There were no more ties holding me in Melgir.
I could just stroll out the front gates, and no one would come looking for me except for maybe Bassir. It felt both freeing and frightening simultaneously, knowing I could leave it all behind, yet I couldn't afford to dwell on it for long. The market's closing time was rapidly approaching, urging me forward.
As I approached the commercial district of Melgir, a wave of noises and aromas enveloped me. Despite the winter season, a handful of resilient stalls defiantly occupied the heart of the market square, proudly offering their wares. The inviting fronts of the surrounding houses displayed various tools, weapons, and enticing commodities.
I had diligently saved 63 silver coins over the course of three months, but as I embarked on my shopping spree, that number rapidly dwindled to a mere 11 silver and 15 copper.
Among my purchases were essential items such as fire steel, arrows, a roll of strong cord, a sturdy hammock, a thick wool blanket, and a tightly woven canvas treated with fish oil. Deciding not to take my borrowed bag from Bassir, I acquired a large backpack to accommodate my belongings.
Determined to upgrade my close-combat capabilities beyond my trusty dagger, I deliberated for a few minutes before settling on a simple spear that caught my eye at a weapons store. I hoped the basic bayonet training I'd received during the draft would transfer to my new weapon. Though even if it didn't, the spear would still serve me well as a formidable walking stick.
As the final rays of sunlight cast a warm glow upon the snow-covered rooftops of the dwarven city, I made a quick stop at a closing stall to purchase a loaf of rye bread. With provisions in hand, I turned my steps toward our shop, where I noticed Bassir sweeping away the snow from the shopfront, his back turned to me.
The sky had cleared during my shopping excursion, presenting an opportune moment to tidy up the shop front. While Melgir rarely experienced massive amounts of snow due to its sheltered location within the mountain range, it was essential to keep up appearances.
"Aye, done with yer business?" the dwarf called out, his keen ears likely picking up on my footsteps before I even turned the corner into our alley.
"Yup. Went with a spear," I replied, proudly raising my newly acquired weapon.
"Wise choice, lad. But the wisest move is to keep anything from getting too close in the first place," he cautioned, leaning the broom behind the door. "Come inside. We have some time before nightfall. I want to hear where yer planning on going."
I followed Bassir into the warm shop and placed my newly acquired items by the stack of firewood while the dwarf rummaged around for a map.
As I opened the window above the kitchen table, the room was instantly bathed in the dim, golden glow of the setting sun. Soon enough, Bassir joined me, unfurling an old, dusty map before us.
"So, where are you headed, lad?"
The antique map, illuminated by the last rays of daylight, displayed only the continent's northeast. Having pestered the visiting ore merchant caravans with endless questions about the world, I had a rough idea of where I wanted to go.
Melgir lay in the far northeast corner of the continent. Not much but mountains and vast plateaus extended out past here, inhabited by none but maybe a few isolated tribes of skyborn. If one continued travelling north or east, past the mountains, they would eventually find themselves facing the icy ocean, stretching out endlessly before them.
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The Dwarven kingdom, Gourheim, was vast yet divided. The mainland of Gourheim was slightly beyond the edges of the map, south of Melgir. The kingdom was known for establishing mining cities outside its official borders, either by political means or subjugation. These mining cities, like Melgir, were constructed with formidable fortifications, serving not only as centres for mining but also as tools for projecting power and exerting political control.
Due to its remote location, Melgir was relatively small, being one of the only dwarven mining cities meant almost purely for mining. It even lacked a standing military garrison.
"I'm considering heading westward, through the Nevaški forest to Murad," I explained, tracing my intended path on the map. Murad was another dwarven mining town, though it was much larger than Melgir, thanks to its more central location. While the official Dwarven kingdom lay east, their de facto rule extended to the northeast, as the other established races had few permanent settlements in this region.
"From there, I'll take a route south until I reach Verdora, the capital of the dryads," I continued, sharing my plan. The map's boundaries prevented me from tracing the entire route to Verdora. "Ultimately, my goal is to reach the west coast. The human empire."
When I noticed the fleeting expression of betrayal that Bassir was straining to conceal, I realized my mishap and hurriedly clarified, "I don't intend to settle there or forget about this place. I simply want to see how others of my race are living their lives. I won't just vanish and abandon Melgir."
My words seemed to ease his worries as Bassir's expression softened. "Aye, lad, I understand. It must be disorienting not seeing anyone of your own kind around... But I must admit, I'm glad yer not just planning on ditching us," he confessed, punctuating his words with a slight chuckle.
"But anyhow, that's quite an ambitious journey, ey? It'll take months just one direction. Most younglings only tag along with the caravan the next couple of cities over before returning," he mused, stroking his beard with a pensive expression.
"It's not a bad route, but ya ought to avoid the dryads. Might be hard finding friends there... as a human, "he paused, observing my expression. "The forest of Nevaški, on the other hand, shouldn't be too dangerous since the gargantuans have butchered most of the apex predators. They don't take kindly to anyone sizing them up."
Gargantuans were one of the sentient races of this world. They didn't have extensive societies like many other races, preferring a more tribal lifestyle.
"Long as ya give them proper respect, they should let ya pass. Just make sure ya don't move along the northern edge of the forest, along the mountainside," Bassir warned. "I hear there's been friction between the gargantuans and the skyborn of the mountains. Wouldn't want to get mixed up in it."
"Hmm, got it. I'll use the southern route, following the river. I'll pass Murad and continue along the edge of the dryad's realm until reaching the top of the human empire," I acknowledged. There were more dwarven mining cities in the northwest, although in much lesser numbers. That area was actually occupied by a few more established races.
We continued chatting about the voyage for a good hour. Bassir shared his own adventures and provided invaluable tips about the areas I would encounter along my pilgrimage. I was once again reminded of the extensive experience possessed by the stout dwarf before me.
Before long, the final rays of sunlight filtering through the window yielded to the dazzling sparkle of starlight. It was time to make our way to Mountain's Brew. The walk there was dark and frigid, but soon, we entered through the familiar wooden door into the warm, soot-covered tavern.
The nightly festivities were already in full swing, with dwarves chatting and laughing loudly, all accompanied by a mandatory wooden pint of beer.
The modest farewell party was easy to spot since they were sitting by the corner, conversing distinctly less enthusiastically than others. They had seen us as well and waved us over.
In Melgir, I met eight people I viewed as good friends. Along with Bassir, Begnik, Revir, and Gornik had made it to the tavern. Nelat hadn't finished his shift yet, and Morid would likely arrive after closing shop. The remaining two couldn't be informed in time or couldn't make it for various reasons.
Considering the short notice, I thought it was a good turnout. I had contemplated delaying my departure for one more day to bid proper farewells, but I didn't want to lose momentum. I knew myself. I was a coward. If I didn't leave right now, I would find a way to talk myself out of it.
Even still, I didn't want to vanish without warning. It felt wrong, and I know I'd feel sour if the situation was reversed.
"Took ya two long enough. So what's this Bassir told me about? Yer leaving come morning? Alone no less?" Revir asked curtly as we approached. Gornik's expression was complicated, and Begnik was fidgeting with a worried frown.
"Yeah, that's the plan. I know it seems rather abrupt, but-" I began to explain, but Revir cut me off.
"No need for all that fluff. Just tell me where yer headed, will ya?" Revir was always straightforward, even at times like this.
Bassir answered for me before I could. "Ehh cut the attitude. Ya always get like this when yer glum. The lad is headed west to the humans. And before ya ask, it's not to settle down," he said, waving his hand dismissively. Just as Revir was about to retort, the dwarf seemed to second-guess his words before leaning back on his wooden chair.
Bassir continued his monologue uninterrupted. "We discussed the path before coming here, and it seems solid. Through Nevaški, past Murad and avoiding the dryads."
Gornik's face twisted in a scowl as the word 'dryads' reached his ears. It appeared that humans weren't the only race with whom the dryads had issues.
This time the worried-looking Begnik began sharing his thoughts. "It's good yer avoiding the twigs, but ya sure about Nevaški? There has been-"
"Yeah, the lad knows 'bout that already," Bassir interrupted Begnik, cautiously gesturing to the barmaid from yesterday to bring over some beer. He clearly hadn't forgotten what happened last night. "Gonna take the southern route."
"Aye, that's good," Gornik commented. "Remember to be respectful to the gargantuans. Those brutes would even try to mince the king if he showed disrespect, not that they could. They'll only come around once someone bigger puts 'em in their place." Gornik's expression was still complicated.
He must've sensed my sudden decision had something to do with yesterday's conversation. But from his expression, I couldn't quite tell if he felt guilty or smug about being right. Perhaps both, since while he had helped me find happiness, in doing so, he had drastically increased my chances of a premature, violent death.
We continued conversing about the plan, and not long after, the drinks arrived, loosening the tension between us. Revir had been silently sulking after getting shut down by Bassir, only now joining back into the conversation.
"Look, lad, Bassir's got a point. Sorry 'bout my tone earlier. Ain't tryin' to give ya shit on yer last day. Just sayin' most kids who go solo don't come back. Ya know how I am..." Revir apologized in his own unique way, not wanting to bring down the mood.
"No, I understand, Revir. I appreciate the concern," I nodded sincerely. "Honestly, I feel like I'm between a rock and a hard place. Even the thought of leaving disturbs me, yet staying still is far more terrifying a concept for me."
Begnik, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for a while, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with genuine worry. "Lad, I've seen brick houses twice yer strength mercilessly butchered out there. If yer thinking of going there for faster levels, forget it. Yer in a good position. You can wait and grow stronger with Bassir's help or pay for next month's caravan for protection. Ya sure ya want to go this path?"
I paused for a moment, considering his words. I couldn't wait another month. I simply couldn't. "I know it's dangerous, really, I do. Bassir has made sure of that much," I admitted with a slight chuckle. "Yet there is something I can only get out there. And I'm not talking about just stats or power. I'm talking about myself. I feel like an integral part of me is waiting beyond those walls, and I need to get it. I'm certain I can do it, and even if I can't, for me, it is worth the risk."
Gornik, still wearing that complicated expression, interjected, "Just promise us one thing, lad. Give your word you'll stay sharp and come back in one piece. We've grown rather fond of you. It wouldn't sit right with us if we never saw you again..."
I stared at the solemn Gornik, touched by his words. "I promise, Gornik. I don't want to die, either. I'll stay safe and return to Melgir, be it a year, two or five from now. This journey is just a chapter in my life, not the end of it. That, I swear."
Revir, seeming settled by the oath, shook his head and raised his pint with a sigh, "Well then, here's to your journey, lad. May Thuldrin guide you and keep you warm in body and soul."
I smiled warmly, lifting my own pint to join Revir's toast. "Thank you, Revir. And to all of you, my friends. Your support means the world to me. I will return with enough tales to fill countless nights."
As we clinked our mugs together, a blend of emotions filled the tavern's smoky air—concern, anticipation, and a touch of sadness. Yet, amidst it all, there was an underlying sense of hope and camaraderie. Soon Nelat and Morid joined us, only adding to the atmosphere.
And so, I spent my last night savouring the warmth of the tavern and the company of those who had become my family in Melgir. I cherished this moment with my friends, knowing it would be the last one... in a long while.