The three figures advance with disconcerting confidence, their stocky and robust stature amplifying their imposing aura despite their small size. Their equipment is of exceptional craftsmanship: finely worked armor plates adorned with glowing runes. Two of them wield hammers, their runes pulsing with a restrained power. Those damn runes. That’s what’s terrifying—an overwhelming magic, utterly inaccessible to us.
I focus my senses, trying to gauge their aura. It’s not my strength, but even an idiot could sense the sheer danger radiating from these three. Raw, concentrated power, like their compact forms. A smirk almost escapes me—I’ll have to save that one for Groboln. The old man would get a good laugh.
The commander halts the column immediately with an authoritative gesture, raising his hand to stop all movement.
"Nobody moves."
The captain steps forward a few paces, his soldiers forming a defensive line behind him. The inquisitor's troups, as always, deploy with cold precision, disregarding the commander’s order. Kael’s men fan out in a crescent shape, creating a living barrier between the dwarves and their master.
The small men freeze in place, their calculating eyes scanning the column. Then, the one in the center—one of the hammer-bearers—steps forward slightly, his stare sweeping over the group as if measuring each individual. His gruff voice, laced with the guttural accent typical of the depths, carries a force far greater than his stature, especially for a single word:
"Human!"
A heavy silence settles. The dwarf remains motionless, but his companions tighten their grips on their weapons. The glow of their runes intensifies slightly, casting ominous shadows around them.
Eldan steps forward, his expression neutral but respectful. He knows that underestimating a dwarf, especially a trio like this, would be a fatal mistake.
"Greetings, sons of the mountain," Eldan replies, his voice grave and measured. "You are in our path."
The third dwarf, adorned with even more scarlet runes, lets out a rumbling noise that’s almost amused, though her eyes remain as cold as steel. The dwarf who uttered the word "Human", continues :
"These woods are not yours. No path is meant for you here."
He takes another step forward, and the energy pulsing around him seems to condense. The other two dwarves remain still, their gazes fixed on us, ready to act at the slightest sign of a threat. It’s not the three of them that’s terrifying—it’s not knowing how many more might be nearby. Probably plenty, if they’re bold enough to pressure us like this. Damn it, first the troll, and now them. It’s like the creatures of this forest are determined to keep us from reaching the dragon!
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Kael Vorath, still in the background, steps forward slightly. His expression is calm, almost curious, but his eyes glint with predatory coldness. He doesn’t intervene yet, letting Eldan handle it, but his mere presence heightens the already palpable tension.
I murmur to Lyrel, "They’re not here to talk. These three could probably massacre twenty of us without breaking a sweat."
She nods slightly, her attention fixed on the dwarves, her hand hovering near her sword.
The nervous dwarf on the left, the only one without reddish runes here, begins to speak :
"We felt your presence the moment you set foot here. Not surprising, given the size of your big feet. Get out now!"
He seems pleased with his joke, glancing at the other two dwarves, who remain unimpressed, their expressions skeptical.
In response, the dwarf in the center steps forward. The intense light of his engravings seems to pulse with his breath, casting menacing red reflections on the surrounding tree trunks. His voice resonates like a drumbeat in the column’s silence.
"I am Thorvak Bloodrune, heir of the Blood Clan within the dwarven kingdom."
He pauses, his piercing eyes daring anyone in the column to meet his stare.
"As my cousin, Bran Fouguefoudre, just explained, you are not welcome on our lands."
His tone is final, each word delivered with natural authority and unshakable conviction. He points his hammer toward Eldan, then gestures at the entire column.
"The forest that survived the rain from the heavens is under our protection," he continues, his gaze hardening. "And all the creatures that dwell within it, including the great dragon."
A murmur ripples through the adventurers and soldiers. The explicit mention of the dragon sends chills through the ranks, each person realizing the audacity of the dwarves to claim such a creature under their protection. It also confirms the dragon isn’t dead—unless this is an elaborate lie.
Eldan, however, remains composed. His eyes locks onto Thorvak with cool precision. He keeps his hand on the hilt of his sword but refrains from any sudden movements.
"Thorvak Bloodrune, your name carries the weight of your people. But this territory also falls under the jurisdiction of the Kingdom of Elbak. We are not here to challenge you but to investigate events that threaten all life in these lands, including the forest you claim to protect."
Thorvak lets out a low growl, a mix of amusement and irritation.
"Fine words to mask your intrusion, human. You come bearing weapons..." The dwarf pauses, spitting on the ground as his gaze shifts to Kael. "...and inquisitors."
The other two dwarves spit as well, nodding silently as Thorvak continues.
Kael Vorath finally steps forward, breaking the icy silence his group had maintained until now. His voice, calm and razor-sharp, cuts through the tension like a blade:
"Thorvak Bloodrune, Bran Stormfury... and you, the third, whose name has yet to be offered."
The third dwarf bristles at Kael’s words. The Great Inquisitor inclines his head slightly—a gesture cold and calculated, meant purely as mockery.
"We are here to address an imbalance that transcends your territorial disputes."
The runes on the dwarves’ hammers glow brighter, and the third dwarf, who had remained silent until now, steps forward. Her runes blaze with a near-blinding intensity, and a wicked grin twists her face.