Their journey brought them to a well-trodden road, where the men passing by were short and thickly built. Almost all were about the same height—close to Sonder’s own, though most of them stood just a bit taller.
They were almost all the same height, which was close to her own, though most of them edged just a little taller. From a distance, they would look nearly identical in stature.
But as they came closer, she could see the distinct details that set each man apart: the subtle variations in the fabric and color of their clothes, small leather pouches and tools tied to their belts, and the unique beads or polished stones threaded into their hair and beards.
And their beards—each man wore at least some kind of facial hair, but for those with full beards, they were thick and carefully maintained, often decorated with rings of gold or silver or small, polished stones.
It was strange seeing so many bearded faces after traveling for so long with only Vell, who was always clean-shaven. She’d never seen him shave, yet somehow his face remained as smooth as river stone.
Their ears were striking as well, and unlike anything she’d seen. They weren’t pointed like an elf’s or long and round like a goblin’s. Rather, they looked much like human ears, only larger, and they seemed to give each face a look of perpetual alertness, as if they were always listening.
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Sometimes the men shifted and murmured among themselves, their eyes glinting with curiosity and subtle, amused glances.
She thought that Vell must have been a little out of place, like a small sprout among towering, ancient oaks.
She tried to stand a bit straighter to make herself taller.
Most of the men traveled in groups alongside wagons loaded high with goods hidden under heavy tarps. Whatever they carried must have been valuable, judging by the way they kept a close watch on their cargo, walking leisurely but alert as they passed Vell and Sonder by.
“Care to guess where we’re headed?” Vell asked with a smile.
Sonder squinted, looking up the road ahead as they continued to walk. More of the sturdy, bearded men passed by, some with quick, respectful nods in Vell’s direction.
The road was lively with the sound of low, rumbling voices, clinking metal, and the occasional snort of a mule or horse pulling a wagon. Whatever was under the tarps these men transported, it was obviously precious—each cart was carefully guarded by a handful of these stocky men, their eyes sharp as they watched the road.
She turned to Vell, who was watching her, clearly waiting for her answer.
“Someplace important to them,” she said thoughtfully. “They’re all carrying things, transporting… supplies?” She gestured to the latest wagon that had rumbled past. “But I can’t tell exactly what or why.”
“Very close,” Vell replied, his voice warm with approval. “Look down, at the road,” he said, nodding toward the cobblestones beneath their feet. “What do you notice?”
She looked down, eyeing the uneven cobblestones underfoot. She noticed that the road was worn, the stones polished in some places by years of footsteps and wagon wheels. She took a closer look and saw that while most of the stones were rough gray, here and there were traces of glittering veins—faint streaks of silver and deep blue.
She frowned, puzzled. “Is that… ore?”