“Well, you look much less like a vagrant.” Nills said, looking me up and down.

“I feel less like a vagrant.” I said, grinning. Standing up to look over my gear, I couldn’t fight a smile. Checking out my backpack, there was the large main compartment covered by a flat leather flap that attached via a couple of buckles. On the left and right of that compartment were smaller vertical pockets that closed with a drawstring. The one on the right had already been filled with bolts for my crossbow.

My gear had already been transferred from my sack to the pack. The bedroll and blanket were rolled up and tied to the bottom. Everything was organized. “It’s glorious!”

“Okay, before you repack all your equipment here in my office, let’s get you to the range. You’ll need to practice with that shiny new crossbow. I suspect your agility is still crap, so you’ll miss with it a bunch.” Instructor Nills told me as he stood up and walked around to my side of his desk.

I followed the instructor out into the hall and down the stairs. On the stairwell, we ran into Instructor Goldo with Jackson following behind. The human’s leather armor was shredded and spots of his skin had the too pink look of recently healed flesh. He stopped me as we passed.

“Ooooo, weeee! Looks like somebody been to the Wal Mart.” Jackson said with a huge smile. “Spin around, son. Let me get a good look.”

I obligingly spun, posing behind my shield and raising the new axe. “Did you get a priority point?” I asked him.

“Naw man. I got it the first go ‘round. This was just practice for me.” He shook his head. “I’m glad too. That damned green slimy thing like to whooped the hell outta me.”

“Oh, really?” I said, dropping my axe back into its loop on my belt and fishing the slime core out of a pouch. “So you didn’t get one of these?” I asked, holding it up?

“You beat the slime? Oh, you suck. How did you do it?” He said admiringly.

“As fun as this is, we have work to do.” Instructor Nills said condescendingly. “You two can catch up at bedtime. It will be like summer camp, but with less molestation from the staff.”

Goldo guffawed, his barking laughter echoing in the stairwell. We both looked at Nills flatly. “Yes instructor.”

“You can store those go to hell looks for when it will do some good.” The fortune instructor told us. “Be off with you.” He waved Jackson off. We resumed our trek down the stairs.

As we exited the keep and stepped onto the parade ground, Instructor Nills waved a guard over. The human was young, probably barely out of his teenage years, and had a wispy moustache crouched on his lip. “Yes, sir!” He yelled, crashing to attention.

“Go fetch Armsmaster Oryan to the archery range. I have a trainee he needs to instruct in the crossbow. Bring bolts and targets.” Nills told him. The guard saluted, fist over heart, and took off at a run.

“One of the things you’ll realize if you go higher in fortune is it carries social rank as well.” Instructor Nills told me as we walked to the front gate. “Zero to fortune is the peasantry at best, but most likely escaped or freed serfs or slaves. A single point to fortune is free farmers or tradesmen. Two points to fortune makes you a member of the squirearchy. Three points to fortune makes you a noble.”

It was quiet for a moment, then, “I myself, am the third son of a Baron. My eldest brother is the heir. The middle son went into the church as per family tradition. As the third son, that meant I was to go into the military. Which is how I came to serve the queen.”

“So with the priority point to fortune, I became a free farmer?” I asked.

“Well, it’s different for dwarves. I’ve studied it but I’m no expert, though there was a delving at the edge of my father’s lands. I know the system for Gold Beard Dwarves, but I believe it is similar for you deep dwarves.” The instructor thought for a moment. “Zero to fortune dwarves are laborers. They are contracted to a job that provides tools, housing, etc, and work that job for a salary. A single point to fortune is called a Karal and is like a free farmer. They’ll have a mine claim or a mushroom farm, maybe a beetle grow yard or something like that. Some even have a few contract workers. Two to fortune are tradesmen, which are higher prestige for dwarves than humans. All the crafts have guilds that strictly regulate advancement. Interestingly, their military has a guild as well. So you’ll have master soldiers and journeyman soldiers with masters being officers and journeyblades being something like our sergeants. For dwarves, being a warrior, ranger, monk, mage or priest is considered a trade. Like with humans, three to fortune makes you a member of the hereditary nobility, though that doesn’t convey authority. You have sept meetings that decide on authority figures from among the nobles in the family.”

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“That’s a lot to take in.” I told him, thinking about all he’d said.

“It’s your life now. Learn it.” Instructor Nills said flatly. We arrived at and went through the gate. It opened onto a road cut from a mountain pass. Directly across from us was a vertical wall of living stone. A tower sat against the cliff face, clearly carved from the same rock as the mountain. From the cliff tower came a curtain wall back to the corner tower of the keep. There was a gate with big double iron banded doors and a portcullis on each of the curtain walls blocking the road.

Workers were all over the curtain walls. Some had big pails of mortar they were pasting in between the huge stones of the wall. Some of the stones, ones that had broken, were being wedged out of holes and replaced.

“That’s a lot of labor.” I whistled.

Nills nodded. “Yes, it is. The castle was a tumbledown ruin when Doctor Mingelt took it over. The queen granted him a good deal of gold as well as permission to found a veteran’s colony to people the village.” He waved behind us towards the village.

We walked towards a gate with one of the huge iron bound wooden doors laying on the ground. The hinges were being replaced and new wood was replacing rotten on the door itself. The workers edged out of the way as we passed through without us having to say a word. Most of them tugged a forelock to Instructor Nills. He didn’t acknowledge any of them except for the bearded man that seemed in charge of the work detail. That worthy gentleman got a nod.

We stepped out into the front yard of the keep. Fluffy sheep grazed on the sparse winter grass and watchful shepherds stood leaning on their crooks. A dog barked at us from beside one of the shepherds. No trees grew within around 200 yards of the wall. From that point on, it was all spruce with a handful of skeletal hardwoods baring their leafless branches to the sky.

The heat of the twin suns had melted off the snow, leaving the grasses shining. “We use this as the archery training area. We have to keep it cleared off anyway for the security of the keep, so may as well get some other use out of it.”

“What do you want me to shoot at?” I asked.

“Oh, I suspect the armsmaster will bring targets.” Nills answered mildly.

“I haven’t met him before.” I said, looking around at the view of the mountains. A wagon pulled by two mules was slowly making its way up the road. A sharp-eyed guard, dressed much as I was, held a crossbow in the front seat beside the drover.

“Is there much need for guards around here?” I asked.

“Oh yes. As I told you, the keep was barely kept up for a long time. It’s a relic of when the kingdom was larger and more powerful than it is now. Wild tribes have crept into the mountains. Ogres and humans mostly. I understand there’s a dwarven delving somewhere out there, but they keep to themselves.” He told me.

We both looked around. I got my cloak out of my pack and put it on. It helped to cut the wind, which was chilly even here in the sunslight.

“Ah, there he is.” Nills said.

A lanky human who moved well strode through the gate. Two boys half jogged to keep up, carrying handfuls of supplies. The human’s neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard hardly blew in the wind. His hair was short enough that it was barely disturbed by the breeze. A sword was belted at his side and he carried a helmet under his arm. He wore conquistador looking armor with one of the leather skirts like mine.

“A good day to you sir.” He called out in a deep resonant voice.

“Hello armsmaster.” Nills acknowledged. “I have a trainee new to the crossbow I’d like you to train.”

The man’s eyes flicked down to me. “A dwarf? You want me to train a dwarf on the crossbow?”

“You’ve been apprised of their unique situation. I’m sure his muscle memory will take hold at some point. Just show him the basics, ensure he knows which end to point at the enemy.” Nills waved away all the fiddly bits of training.

“Aye sir. You, trainee. What’s your name?” he asked.

“Mike sir.” I held out my hand to shake as he approached. That got a faint smile, and he grasped my forearm with his hand putting his forearm into mine. I shook it warily.

“Alright Mike the dwarf, let’s show you the crossbow. You know, one of your racial weapons.” The Armsmaster snorted. “Lad!” He looked back at the boys carrying his supplies. “Get the targets out there and set up. 25 yards for the first, then every 25 yards until you run out of targets. Raise them up higher as they get further.” The two boys nodded and ran off.

He watched them for a moment until the first one set a round target, much like my shield, into the ground and put a stick behind it to make it stay upright. Then he turned to me. “May I see your bow?”

I handed the bow over. He checked it thoroughly, running his fingers down the bow and closely looking over the trigger mechanism. “Okay, each time you use the bow, you’ll want to check it for cracks. If it’s well made, and it appears this is, you’ll likely not find any. If it shatters in battle it can injure those standing near to you.

I nodded. Good information. He handed it back and drew a quarrel. “Span your bow.” The armsmaster told me. The boys were talking to the shepherds, who were moving their herds out of the way.

I reached down and grabbed the string, giving it a tug. It barely moved. I braced and PULLED. It barely moved.

“If I may show you?” The armsmaster asked, holding his hands out. I gave him the bow. “The loop at the front is for your foot.” He put a booted foot into the leather loop that hung off the front of the stock, then put the front of the bow on the ground. Then he grabbed the string and PULLED. The muscles in his arm popped out, but the string clicked back onto the hooks.

I nodded thanks and put a quarrel into the groove. The boys had set the targets and ran out of the way. I shouldered the bow and shot. The bolt sailed, going a hundred yards past the 25 yard target.

“Hmm, going to be a long day.” The armsmaster said as he nodded. Nills chortled. A jeering cheer came from a couple of the shepherds.

I sighed and put my foot in the strap and PULLED, barely able to put the string in the hooks. I loaded and fired. Missed again. It was going to be a long day.