The blindingly bright lights snapped off and revealed a dozen more of the Kings Guard waiting for us on the tower. Chane walked us straight through their rows and into a huge bronze colored door that parted in the middle to let us through.
We continued through the door and into a tall and well lit room lined with polished and posed metallic statues of dwarves on raised pedestals. Alternating between the statues were carved pedestals topped with almost invisible display cases filled with various artifacts and items, from weapons old and new to crystal goblets and gem-encrusted armor.
Just inside the doorway, we turned and entered a discreet door set between two pillars and behind one of the display cases. I got a good look into the case as we walked past, within the case was a tarnished set of silver inlaid black gauntlets and a matching helmet with intricate fluting and embossed patterns. I spotted what looked like large gleaming silver gem settings on the forehead of the helmet and the backs of each gauntlet, but they sat empty as if whatever gem was there previously had been pried out.
“Fancy. According to the provenance logs, those are House Rocksturdy heirlooms from their early days as a faction. It shows that they were owned by someone from those Sequence weirdos for nearly 8 cycles though. The settings are for Engrams, by the way. You should get something like that made for yours so you don't look like such a pleb.”
I blinked at Max’s intrusion, and wished I could reply freely. I was getting sick of him talking at me and having to reply with emotions and general thoughts rather than words.
I filed that information into the back of my mind and followed Chane through the door, which opened into a spiraling staircase. Chan started down the stairs and I followed right after, thankful that the ceiling was high enough for me to not have to crouch to avoid bashing my head into the treads above.
As we spiraled down, thinking about the armor reminded me of Tevin and I finally remembered to ask about him.
“Hey Chane, what are the rules for me bringing visitors or guards of my own? I have a, uhm, retainer who is assigned by my home country to guard me.”
He grunted and replied without looking back at me as we continued down the sharply twisting staircase. “Initiates are not allowed visitors. He could apply for a visa which you could sponsor once you are a full rank Brother. It would be unwise of you to bring a servant before then.”
I frowned at the back of his head, “He's not a servant, but a friend. Closer to me than my actual family.”
That earned me a strange look from Chane over his shoulder. “Closer than your actual family?” He said, an undertone of confusion in his voice.
“Ah, yeah. I’ve known him since we were kids, and I’m not close with my blood-family.” I answered, not wanting to get into the details about my estranged family.
He stopped on the staircase and half turned to face me, a hard look on his face. I nearly ran into him but managed to stop myself.
“Why would you forsake your family?” He said harshly with narrowed eyes.
My own eyebrows went up in surprise and I hurried to answer. “It’s complicated. My parents are anti-Link, and my sister went no contact and disappeared a couple of years ago.”
He studied my face for a moment, before he huffed and turned back around to continue down the staircase. “That is understandable. Is that the only family you have? I forget that humans keep much smaller Houses.”
I kept pace, following him out of the staircase and through an open doorway, then into a plain stone corridor with a ceiling only a few inches taller than myself. “Yeah. My parents had me when they were older. My grandparents were already elderly when I was born. They passed away when I was a kid.” I explained truthfully.
We stepped onto a large raised square of uniquely dark colored tile set into the carved stone floor, which clicked audibly and lowered into the floor slightly. The tile lay in front of another smooth bronze door. Chane raised a hand to signal me to stop once we both were standing on it.
He looked over at me and said with a solemn tone in his voice. “It must be lonely. No wonder you have found friends to bond with.”
His comment made me feel awkward, causing me to avert my gaze and stare down at the floor. I didn’t like thinking about my family and the drama that being sent to the labor camp had started. I scuffed one of my cheap boots against the basalt tile as we waited.
Thankfully, we were only held back for a few more seconds before the door opened all on its own, revealing a small metal box of a room that gave off a distinct feeling of being yet another elevator. We both stepped in. After the doors closed, Chane leaned forward and spoke into what looked like a speaker set into the wall next to the door.
“Mid Street level”
I watched him, thinking that voice control was an odd choice, but chose not to comment as the door slid closed and I felt the room start to move downwards. My mind wandered back to my family and the last pleading and damning message I got from my parents, demanding that I quit my contract and move out to join them in the rural forested mountains of the northwestern region of Arktria.
I was pulled out of my reminiscing when the elevator stopped and the doors opened once more. This next room bustled with activity, dwarves in matching uniforms pushed carts and stood in small groups talking with each other. Some wore partial suits of armor like the statue-looking dwarves from above, their helmets removed and held under one arm as they chatted with the plain uniformed dwarves. No one bothered us as we crossed the room and exited through a large open door frame to our left. We continued on through an entryway presided over by a white-maned dwarv seated at a high desk, who lazily waved us towards yet another set of bronzed double doors.
The sound of voices and vehicles washed over us as we stepped out onto a narrow street, devoid of sidewalks and packed with dwarves both on foot and piloting various small vehicles. The smell nearly floored me: a mix of spice, musk, exhaust fumes, and something sour akin to vinegar.
This time I was the one who reached out and grabbed ahold of Chane’s shoulder as he pushed into the crowded street. I was two feet taller than everyone around, giving me a great view out over the crowd, only obstructed by the occasional vehicle larger than a bicycle and the buildings lining the street. I got a few looks and stares as we made our way through the press towards a larger street, but was largely ignored by the bustling mob.
I looked up and rubbernecked around, trying to get my bearings on where we might be in relation to the mountain-like city I had seen from across the balcony, but was unable to spot much of anything overhead. The buildings to either side of us were too tall, and the tower was the only landmark that stuck out from the uniform skyline all carved from the bedrock of the mountain.
I nearly had my grip from Chane’s shoulder ripped away a few times in the crowded press of the street, despite my height and size I was knocked around like a child in a stampede by the stocky, smelly, bearded masses.
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Chane shouldered, pushed, fought, and elbowed his way down the road until we entered the stream of bodies moving along the larger avenue. I did my best to cling to him and not get knocked over and trampled as we started uphill.
I wondered at the estimations I’d heard for the dwarven population. If there were so many people here on this one street, how many lived here in total? If the whole city was this crowded, there was no way the dwarves only had 50 thousand members in their faction. There seemed to be thousands of them here on this one patch of broad road, and I could see more of them in the open doors along most of the first floors of the buildings to either side. Everywhere I looked were dwarves busily going about their day. Some even climbed up the sides of the buildings and into windows or onto balconies.
I was quickly and thoroughly lost, all of the buildings looked nearly identical and kept a uniform height, each building rising a few meters higher than the last as they wound ever higher. There were no landmarks or signs on the buildings even, just plain blocky facades with open first floors that swarmed with busy bearded business. I’m not sure how long it took us to bull our way through the crowd before we finally made it into an open archway and into one of the buildings.
We pushed through a line of dwarves waiting to be loaded down with large bundled packages before they ran off into the street, and into a sort of courtyard at the center of the building. It had the feel of a shopping mall, with various stalls and shops set up around the edges and an open interior where a few dwarves seemed to be inspecting themselves or adjusting their clothing or armor in the free space.
Finally away from the overwhelming noise of the street outside, I spoke up to Chane and let my grip slip from his shoulder. “Where are we going?”
He continued through the courtyard at a brisk pace as he answered. “I am to show you to your Row house within the Galidurn commons, and then deliver you to the Patriarch. Until you are tried, you will be barred from much of the city unless you are escorted.”
We walked under another arched doorway and vaulted balcony at the far side of the interior courtyard and into an open doorway, before taking a series of quick turns into the maze-like interior of the undermountain. A left, then a right, before a long upwards staircase. We were waved through a heavy door that a guard opened for us, took another elevator upwards, and passed through a massive room filled with long tables crammed with dwarves singing and swinging shiny brass mugs.
After leaving the drinkhall behind, we took a lengthy corridor lined with carved stone doors out to a long plaza rimmed with buildings of a variety of sizes. These buildings were adorned with carvings and statues in both stone and metal.
One building towered over them all, at the far skinny end of the plaza, lay the only building I had seen so far to be built up with varying materials rather than carved directly from the bones of the mountain. It gleamed with gilded pillars, contrasting black and white layers of basalt and marble relief carvings, dotted amongst the decorations were large cannons, beam projectors, and shield arrays that looked like skeletonized satellite dishes.
We made our way across the courtyard, cutting across at an angle and towards one of the larger and squatter buildings. Passing multiple groups of dwarves marching around in formation, drilling and practicing. Others formed rings around smaller sparring trios and pairs. Over it all rang the sound of hammers, the clash of arms against armor, and the reports and pings of target fire.
I was fascinated by all of the activity, and earned a sharp reminder from Chane .
“Come, Nick. You will spend plenty of time here later.”
He grabbed me by the back of my belt and started to push me around again. I noticed I drew a few looks from the other dwarves as we moved through the orderly training field, and could have sworn I spotted another taller human duck into an open archway of one of the buildings.
“Did I just see a human? Another outsider?” I tried to ask over my shoulder, but he just ignored me and pushed me through the open doors of the squat building.
He continued guiding me forward down a long straight hallway lined with staircases and balconies to either side, reminiscent of the prison block I’d spent a year living in. Each door had a half dozen small pedestals flanking the opening, about half of which were occupied by lifelike bronze statues of dwarves in plain clothes, each with a tool in their hand.
We turned to the left and went up one of the staircases to the second level and through a door that automatically opened as we approached it. I noticed this door had two statues outside of it, and something about them was familiar. One depicted a dwarv with a shorter beard with a drafting compass in their hand, while the other was modeled after an older and more filled out dwarv with their hand on a hammer tucked into their belt.
When we entered the room, the three dwarves already inside all turned their gazes to us. The largest of them stood from the low table they were sitting around shouting, “Lo! Driller Chane!”
They all jumped to their feet and slammed their fists together in front of their chests. Chane replied, “Da-Bomilik, be at ease.” He pushed me forward one last time, causing me to stumble ahead of him.
“This one is Nicholas, the last of your Row.”
The three dwarves all looked me over with a mix of skepticism and hope. The largest of them, Bomilik presumably, flashed me a broad smile filled with steel teeth, while the other two watched me with a mix of hostility and mistrust.
They all were nearly beardless compared to all of the others I had seen up to this point. Bomilik had the most scruff on his chin and was already slightly larger than Chane himself. He had a similar black mane of hair. One of the others had a mass of brown dreads instead, while the last had deep red hair and looked at me with an angry glare.
For the first time, I easily recognized the redhead as female. The lack of beard making it easier to spot the differences between them. She scowled at me and made a gesture as if she were smacking her hands together to knock dirt or dust from them.
The dwarv with dreads spoke up, “A Human, with weeks to go until the trials? You test us already, Brother.”
Chane slammed his boot heel against the ground, causing them all to jump back into the pressed-fist salute before he shouted back. “ Da-Korfook! The council has approved, Grandfather has spoken, and I have ordered. You will follow or you will be held back for the next Trial.”
All three of them bowed their heads over their fists and spoke at once. “Yes, Dun-Chane”
Chane stepped up beside me so he could elbow me in the thigh to pull my attention back. “This is your Row’s chamber. When called to meeting or preparing, this is where you will find your Brothers. Remember it well.” He turned back to the other dwarves who were still bowing their heads, shouting, “And you all will see to his success, yes?”
“Yes, Driller Chane!” They all said in unison.
“Good! Now, inform the others as they arrive. We must see the Patriarch.” He then spun me back around and pushed me towards the door.
Not sure if I should do or say anything, I let him show me back out of the room and down the staircase. We went back across the plaza and towards the largest building I’d scoped out earlier, the massive carved and adorned bronze doors were already cracked open just wide enough to drive a van through.
Inside was a huge and open room, with vaulted ceilings and massive arches supported by slender free standing pillars. Everything was decorated from floor to ceiling with gilded carvings, jeweled statues, relief murals, and hanging artworks.
There was a small crowd of dwarves at the far side of the huge space, all standing around a low circular table. After we had made our way a few paces into the room, a dwarv startled me by shouting somewhere to my side.
“Brother Chane and outsider!”
I jumped and glanced over, seeing that there were two armored dwarves standing to either side of the door, each with a rifle slung over their shoulder and a tall staff held in their hand.
Chane took the announcement in stride, and we continued on towards the group. As we neared, it became apparent that this was a group of elder dwarves. Their beards were a mix of mostly black, gray, and white with a few deep browns mixed in. The table soundlessly sunk down into the floor on our approach, and the group parted and fanned out into a rough V-shape centering on a familiar face.
Duirtak, the gray-bearded dwarv from the stone carving shop in the Hub stood at the center of the V, and to his side was a grinning Kazzad. The rest of the dwarves all looked more solemn and resolute.
“Welcome, outsider Nicholas! Our Hive n’ Home welcome ya’. I’ve told ta’ elders here of yer prowess and spirit. Have ya’ brought that which was promised?”