Joseph donned the magical necklace that he’d commissioned, a thin chain of silver that would slow oncoming impacts, but not stop them outright. This had apparently been the easiest thing to craft, so the dwarves had gotten to work making it first. They still hadn’t entered Ugals yet, as Prolo needed the proper permissions in order to enter.
Once he had told Varig of Prolo’s presence aboard Betty, he informed Joe that he’d need to speak with the king about it first. While Varig was gone, Joe focused on trying to convince Prolo to stay behind and sit tight, but the kid wasn’t having none of it.
“I am tired of waiting for them to come after me,” Prolo said, “I will wait no longer. My leg and shoulder have recovered fully, and I’m itching for a fight.”
“I get that, but it ain’t gonna be easy to keep ya alive down there.” Joe told him, “I got some of the craziest armor ever, you got clothes, which do you think the ninjas will throw their lil’ stars at first?”
“Stars?” Prolo asked, “Nevermind, the point is that I refuse to stay here while you take the fight to our mutual foe. I am a skilled swordsman and can hold my own.”
“What happens when they start firing bolts at ya again?” Joseph asked, “Them clothes of yers ain’t bulletproof, and I ain’t got nothing better for you to use… at least nothin’ that’ll fit.” The truth was that Joe did have some sets of spare plate armor, but letting Prolo know that would make it harder to convince him to stay behind. “Yer not that much shorter than me but unless you eat fifty cheeseburgers right now ya won’t put on the muscle to fit into my gear.”
“Cheeseburgers? That sounds quite delicious, whatever it is.” Prolo said, “Surely you must have something that I can wear?”
Joe sighed, “You aren’t gonna stay behind are ya?” He asked.
“Not a chance. I am my own man, unless you intend to keep me prisoner?” Prolo asked, narrowing his eyes.
“I don’t.” Joe said, “But it ain’t gonna be safe and you’ll probably get hurt again, is that good with you?”
“Better than staying cooped up here like a coward.” He replied, “Now, do you have anything sturdy I can wear? Your workshop is loaded with all sorts of armaments, perhaps there is something within you’ve forgotten about?”
“Well…” Joe considered, “I do got some armor I stole off some caravan guards.” Prolo frowned, “I didn’t kill ‘em!” Joe insisted, “I found ‘em like that, just didn’t wanna let their gear go to waste. If yer gonna come with me, ya gotta wear some metal, no matter where it came from. That bother you?”
Prolo shook his head, “Not at all, but first, I wish to shake off some of the rust… you wouldn’t happen to have any practice blades laying about do you?”
Joe shook his head, “Naw, sorry. I do got a couple cool sticks I found a long time ago. Can’t remember where I put ‘em but I can try n’ find ‘em.”
“That works I suppose.” Prolo said with a sigh, “I just wish I hadn’t dropped my rapier back at the manor… such a shame.”
“I can make ya a new one.” Joe said, “My work would probably be better too, not to toot my own horn.” He said, most definitely tooting his own horn.
Was it wrong for a man to be proud of his craftsmanship?
“While it would be nice to have another blade, you cannot forge it in time before we have descend to old Ugals.”
“I know that.” Joe said with a wave of his hand, “Just saying I can do it is all, just after we get back.”
“Very well, I do assume though that you have a spare sword or two I can borrow for this adventure, yes?” Prolo asked, “I can use most blades proficiently… not to toot my own horn, as you say.”
“Ha!” Joe laughed, “Yeah I do, got quite a few actually…” He paused.
Prolo narrowed his eyes, “From the same caravan guards I take it?”
“Well, gotta get finding them sticks.” Joe said, changing the subject, “Guessin’ you want to spar with me then, huh? Don’t blame me if ya get hurt.”
Much to his irritation, Prolo scoffed, “No offense Joseph, but I doubt that you will put up much of a contest, you’ve had no formal training.”
Joe glared, “I was gonna hold back, but that smug attitude of yers is pissing me off.”
Prolo shrugged, “Change my mind then.”
The two glared at one another for a long white before Joseph left, finding the two arm-length sticks at the bottom of a footlocker before returning to the front room. He tossed Prolo a stick, and held his at the ready. Prolo expertly swung the branch through the air, testing its balance before looking Joe over with a critical eye.
“That stance is all wrong, you look like a baboon.” Prolo told him, “You should narrow your stance and make yourself a smaller target.”
“I knew fellas that went to prison, they always came out sayin’ they liked boys with hair like yers, it's a lot to grab onto they’d tell me.” Joe said with a smirk.
Truth was he didn’t, but he wanted to get Prolo riled up for calling him a baboon.The kid only only frowned, narrowing his stance and bracing his hand against his back, wielding his stick with the other.
“Let me prove to you just how outmatched you are.” He said, taking a step toward Joe.
The two circled one another for a moment, before Joe lashed out with his stick, looking to whap Prolo on the hand. The boy parried it easily, stepping into Joe’s guard before thrusting the tip of the stick into Joe’s breastplate.
“Dead.” Prolo said with a sigh, “Like I told you, you have no formal training, there’s no way you’d be able to stand up to me in a fair swordfight.”
Joe narrowed his eyes, “Alright then, how about we do this again. Don’t hold back on me, and I won’t hold back on you, I’ll treat this like a fight back in the wastes. Or are you scared?”
Prolo laughed, “Very well, if you wish to be humiliated once more I will not object.”
They both backed away, circling one another before Joe lashed out again, in the exact same manner. Prolo batted the stick away and stepped into Joe’s guard once more. Joe, with his other hand, then grabbed Prolo by that pretty princess hair of his and threw him to the ground with ease, pointing the tip of the stick right at Prolo’s throat.
“Dead.” Joe said with a smirk, “That hair of yers ain’t gonna do you no favors, you should cut it.”
“That was dishonorable! How is that fair?” Prolo questioned, batting the stick away.
“Yeah.” Joe confirmed with a nod, “It ain’t honorable, but the wastes don’t care about that kinda thing. You fight to win, this ain’t some fancy tournament, it’s life or death.”
“You’re a hair-pulling sissy!” Prolo accused.
“YOu’Re a hAiR-pUlliNG SiSsy.” Joseph mocked, pitching his voice higher.
“One hundred and two? Yeah, maybe minus one hundred.” Prolo said, frustrated.
Joe offered him a hand, but Prolo refused, standing on his own.
“Look, if it makes you feel better, there’s really nothin’ more fair than an unfair fight.” Joe told him.
Prolo glared, “What kind of twisted logic is that?”
“Think about it. We’re the most intelligent creatures in creation right? So how smart ya are in a fight is being fair. I told ya I’d treat it like a fight in the wasteland, I saw a weakness of yours and I exploited it, that’s fair in my book.” He said with a shrug, “Folk we’re after ain’t gonna fight you fair bud, they’re gonna be dirty too, you can even the odds and make it fair by bein’ dirty yourself. If a guy is laying on top of ya and stranglin’ you to death, wouldn’t it be fair to jab yer thumbs in his eyes?” Joe asked, “You’d probably get him to stop choking ya and you’d win. Winning is all that matters when you’re fightin’ for your life.”
“I’m not saying I don’t understand, Joseph.” Prolo said with a huff, “But it goes against every fiber of my being to fight that way.”
“So if a guy pulls yer hair just like I did now, you’d just let him stab you because of some dumbass sense of honor? Unless it’s a tournament yer in, leave that crap at the door, survival comes first.” Joe told him, “Trust me, it will get you killed.” He finished in a serious tone, “I toldja I’d teach ya to survive on yer own, this is part of that.”
Prolo fell silent for an instant before he sighed, “I suppose that you have a point. Still, I don’t think it will be that easy for me to change my behavior in battle.”
“Hey, it's your life.” Joe said, “Just remember, nothing is more fair than being unfair, there’s nothing shameful about using both body and mind to win. If you need to fling sand in someone’s eyes to get an advantage you should do it.”
“Okay I get it!” Prolo exclaimed, flinging his hands up, “I will learn these vile tactics, but in exchange I demand to teach you proper swordsmanship. Your form is garbage.”
“Yer kinda rude about it.” Joe said, “But fine, wanna go again?”
“As long as you don’t pull my hair.” Prolo huffed, smoothing down the ruffled patch Joe had grabbed, “If I get a bald spot from that so help you…”
“Do something about it.” Joe egged him on mockingly, “I dare ya.”
With that, the two began to duel, awaiting Varig’s return while whapping at one another with their sticks. It was incredibly frustrating… but the kid had a clear talent for this swordsmanship stuff. Fighting him fair with a sword just wasn’t optimal, Prolo was fast and dextrous, and Joe struggled to land even a glancing blow on him. His instincts screamed for him to kick him in the leg or grab his hair again, but that would ruin the point of this swordsmanship training. He would check the cameras between bouts, half-an-hour passing before he saw Varig returning, once more with his retinue of guards.
“Time to go see if you can come along.” Joe said, “Ya better come out with me.”
Prolo nodded, wiping sweat from his brow, “You’ve improved quite a bit already just from that short session, I say that you have a knack for it… though you’ll never reach my heights.”
“You know what?” Joe asked, heading for the workshop, “Next time we do some sparing, I’ll get out the gloves and we’ll do some hand-to-hand.”
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Prolo paled, “I’ve never-”
Joe grinned, “I know.”
With that, the two left Betty, disarming the trap before approaching Varig, “This is young Pienturshuld then? It is nice to meet you, I understand that you wish to accompany us to old Ugals.”
“That’s right my lord.” Prolo said bowing deeply, “The Black Hand are after me as well, I would take the fight to them.”
“Very well. My father, King Relun Ugals, will grant you entry, on the condition that you wear a blindfold.” Varig said, “Joseph needs no such thing, but for you young Pienturshuld, this is what the king demands.”
“I don’t understand.” Prolo said, “I do not have a problem with this, but why must I?”
“We would prefer as few humans as possible knowing the interior layout of our fortress.” Varig told him, “We owe Joseph a great debt, it would be insulting to take such precautions with him, especially as we have already offered him shelter before.”
“Very well, allow me to don some proper armor and I will comply with this order.” Prolo said with another bow, “Shall we, Joseph?”
“Byeah.” Joe replied, turning back to Betty, “We’ll be right out, can’t have the kid wandering down there with just some clothes.”
“Aye.” Varig replied.
It wasn’t long before Joe found a set of looted plate armor that almost fit Prolo perfectly, giving him a broadsword and a crossbow. He had considered giving him a pistol instead, but thought it might be better to let him use something he’d be more familiar with. Still, just to be safe, he gave a Glock to Prolo, briefly instructing him on how to hold it before the kid nervously tucked it away in his holster.
“Remember, safety switch is on the side, it won’t fire unless ya flip it, just remember that.” Joe instructed before the two men left Betty’s confines.
Prolo was now clad head-to-toe in armor, wearing a helm with a slotted visor that left his jaw and mouth unprotected. It wasn’t the best but it was better than nothing. Prolo then removed the helmet, allowing himself to be blindfolded.
“You can take Prolo in, I’ll drive Betty through the gate. Don’t want to leave it out here where ninjas can see it.”
Varig agreed with the sentiment, and it wasn’t long before Joe was in the cockpit, driving right behind the retinue as they made way for the gates. Again the dwarves phased right through the gate, with Prolo in tow. Joe found himself wondering if this thing would allow Betty through or not, and gingerly approached the gate. At the high speed of one mile per hour, he eased her through the gates until finally she breached the other side, completely unscathed.
Joe found himself dazzled by what he saw through the cameras. Even with the pixelation, he could see just how magnificent Ugals truly was. The ceiling reached higher than he could see, the walls conforming to the exterior of the mountain. Massive beams of solid metal supported the high ceiling, stretching out to lend their strength to the walls. Ahead of him stood another, smaller gate, the entrance only wide enough for three men to pass through. He parked Betty before it, and triple-checked his gear, ensuring that he was bringing everything with him that he’d need.
Once that was done, he stepped outside and goggled at what lay before him. He had thought that the ground was smoothed stone, like outside, but while it was just as engraved, it was made of dwarven steel. The inner-wall too was made of solid steel, and he marveled at it. How much steel did these little guys have at their disposal? It was ludicrous!
Now that he was outside, he could clearly see the ceiling now… it came to a single point above, narrowing the higher it went. He understood now why they needed those massive steel support beams… the whole mountain had been hollowed out. He nearly convulsed at seeing this, trying to rationalize how they had even managed half of this feat.
“I see that you are in awe.” Varig said proudly, lifting his helmet, “This took us thousands of years to accomplish.”
“...Uh, I…” Joe muttered, “I- wow!” He exclaimed, “Wow!” He repeated excitedly.
Prolo sighed, tone disappointed, “You don’t need to make it sound so amazing, it makes me want to take a peek.”
The guards all then looked to him, but Prolo didn’t remove his blindfold. Would they kill him if he did? It seemed more than likely, thankfully Prolo seemed to understand that it wouldn’t be wise to break his oath.
“We have a long trip ahead of us, the tunnels are far below.” Varig said, “Let us go.”
Joe fell into step quickly, walking beside Varig as they passed through the gate. He just had to see what else lay within. How was it even possible for them to have done all this? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Even with modern tech he could not picture how he would hollow out a mountain. Granted, it was just this upper section of it, but it was impressive nonetheless.
He was proven wrong as they approached the edge of a sheer cliff, and Joe nearly fainted from what he saw. It wasn’t just this upper portion that was hollow… but rather the entire mountain itself. Joe’s eyes went wide as he looked down upon a city of gleaming metal. Betty-wide bridges connected the sides of the mountain, leading to wide open doorways that went into the stony walls. These bridges descended down the wide open space like spiraling stairs, and he could see dozens of people moving across them, going about their business like what lay below them was nothing special.
The city itself lay at the bottom, hundreds, no, thousands of shining buildings, illuminated by even more floating orbs of light, fluttering about like fireflies. Even from up here, Joe could hear the sound of industry echoing up from Ugals depths, ringing steel and bellowing laughter audible even all the way up here. How was it that this place didn’t get filled with smoke? He asked this very question to Varig, who pointed to the nearest floating orb of light.
“These creatures are known as Fumu, they were discovered here in the tunnels long ago, feeding on various pockets of gas and emitting that light of theirs. They are unique to this Shard, normally lighting a dwarf fortress is a more tedious effort, as is dispelling the pollution of industry.” Varig explained, “We gathered them here in the hollowed mountain, where they can freely float about as they wish, consuming our pollution in exchange for their light.”
So that means they can live off smoke? Maybe co2 as well, there were a lot of dwarves down here after all. Unless they didn’t exhale co2, but that wasn’t likely.
“This is so damned cool.” Joe said, “How do you get air down here though?”
“If you look closely, you can see those large empty brown squares between the buildings.” He replied, pointing them out, “Those are our farms, many of which host a plethora of mushrooms. There is a particular species of mushroom that puts out air in vast quantities, they are known to the laymen as, ‘fatheads’.”
“Goofy, alright.” Joe nodded, “Why fatheads?”
“If I take you on a proper tour you will see.” Varig replied, “But enough of all that, let us set off. Step into the wide cart over here and we’ll all ride straight to the bottom.” He finished, pointing to a wide mine-cart. It looked big enough to hold twenty men shoulder to shoulder, and it was attached to a railway.
Joe followed the tracks with his eyes, seeing something he hadn’t noticed until now. The railway followed a spiraling trail of smoothed stone, starting here at the top and ending somewhere down there in Ugals proper. The group of them all piled into the oversized minecart then, Joe being cramped up against the front corner with Prolo in the back.
“Hold onto the sides, we dwarves will be fine for the ride down, but this cart wasn’t made for humans in mind.” Varig told him.
Joe hesitantly released his Benneli, holding onto the sides of the cart and turning his head to see that Prolo did the same.
“You saying this is gonna go fast?” Joe asked, “How fast we talkin’?”
It would probably be slowed down somehow, it may take around… fifteen minutes to reach the bottom at a comfortable speed he guessed.
“You’ll see.” Varig replied, “Pull the lever Bilmor!”
Joe’s head whirled around to see Bilmor standing right behind them, hand on a massive lever attached to the tracks, “Safe travels!” He shouted before he pulled the lever.
Joe heard a click toward the front of the minecart, looking down to see a pair of metal stoppers retracting to allow the wheels to pass. Joe paled as the minecart began to move, and he squatted down out of instinct, coming to head height with Varig. The dwarf laughed and patted him on the shoulder, not gripping the sides of the cart at all.
“This is my favorite part!” He shouted excitedly, “Hold on!”
“I wanna walk!” Joe screamed, but by then it was far too late.
He heard Prolo yelp as the cart picked up speed, the wind blowing back Joe’s hood as they went. Joe grit his teeth as the world became a blur around him, the only thing he could hear being Varig laughing and Prolo yelping. Joe never did well with roller coasters, but this was so much worse. There wasn’t even a damned safety bar! The light of the Fumu became smears, and that was when Joe shut his eyes, silently praying to the Lord that he would survive the trip to the bottom.
After what felt like eternity, the cart finally began to slow down. By what means, Joe had no idea but frankly he was more concerned with his roiling gut. Relief filled him when the cart came to a gentle stop, and he took a breath, standing on shaky legs. His hands were sore from gripping the cart, each finger feeling stiff.
“For such a large man, you sure to quake like a child.” Varig said, removing his helmet to show a smirk, “Very strange to see.”
“Just get me off this damn cart.” Joe said bitterly, seeing that Prolo had apparently fainted.
The little door to the cart opened, and Joe squeezed himself out, holding back from gagging as he went. He had not been expecting it to go quite that fast… he’d need a sec to get his gut to behave itself. He heard the guards pouring out of the cart behind him, their footsteps ringing out across the steel floor. Again he found that the ground was heavily engraved, depicting stories of heroism and tragedy, at least he assumed that much. He resisted the urge to put his hands on his knees, remaining upright as the guards formed around him. What was going on, were they going to ty and seize him!? His finger quickly found the trigger of his shotgun-
“Welcome to Ugals!” They all shouted in unison before immediately falling back into formation.
Joe blinked in shock, seeing Varig with a wide grin on his face, “I told them to do that.” Varig said with a chuckle, “It helps keep their sort humble, royal guards often get big heads, so I seized an opportunity to bring them down a peg.”
Joe looked back to Prolo, who wobbled on shaky legs, his face still pale. Now that his nausea was gone, he found himself focusing more on his surroundings. More fumu’s floated about, like specks of dust, casting a warm glow across the solid steel floor. Yet another gate barred entry to Ugals, but it was quickly being raised as the guards on the wall beckoned them to enter. Even outside these walls, Joe could see the steel buildings towering over them, some looming as tall as a skyscraper.
“Is this all steel?” Joe asked, “How did you manage to make so much of it?”
“This mountain was rich with flux stone and iron… as were the surrounding ones.” Varig said, passing through the gate.
“You saying you’re strip mining the other mountains around here too!?” He exclaimed, “Sweet Lord, are there more Dwarfholds there too?”
Varig shook his head, “The other Dwarfholds in Everfae are located to the south, and they may as well be living in caves by comparison. Millenia ago, our wealth and prosperity caught the eye of the dwarf king at the time, my ancestor Drumor Hegrak. He then declared this the new capital of dwarf kind, at least in this Shard, and changed our clan’s name to Ugals.” Varig said, “Come, let us go, do not mind the stares… we don’t normally allow anyone this far into the fortress, so your presence will be a novelty.”
That made sense, but that wasn’t going to make the experience any more comforting. He preferred less attention, not more. The group all then moved through the gate and into the city of Ugals. It was a city seemingly made of solid steel, the only things made differently were the stone streets and some tools made of wood the citizens carried. Dwarves moved about slowly through these streets, some with longer beards than others. Businesses were set in the steel buildings, with wooden signs advertising their trade in Faesh hanging above their metal doors.
The streets were engraved of course, depicting more stories, but what shocked him is that even the buildings themselves were covered from top to bottom with these carvings. The time they must have sunk into this city must have stretched back millenia… and this was supposedly the ‘newer’ Ugals. Old Ugals had to have been abandoned several thousand years ago, there’s no way that Jilamaka could still be alive… right? Varig had talked about it as if it were more than likely still around. Well, they’d cross that nasty bridge if they came to it. Like Varig said, the hundreds of dwarves paused in their busy work to stare at Joe and Prolo. Joe did his best to remain calm, reminding himself that the general dwarf population did not know of his true nature.
“Why are there so many engravings everywhere?” Joe asked to distract himself from the staring eyes.
“It is one of the ways we record our history.” Varig said, “We dwarves have memories that never fade… but what happens if all who knew of those tales fall? These engravings are for our future generations, so that they may look at them and remember what we knew. Our annals are the engravings put into writing, both of them together ensures the past will not be forgotten.”
“Shouldn’t the annals be enough?” Joe asked as the crowd parted before them, “If ya got it in writing, why engrave?”
“It increases the value of our fortress of course.” Varig said, “You see, the capital of dwarven civilization is in whichever Dwarfhold is the most extravagant. This is why we build things primarily of our steel, and is the other reason we create such artistic renderings.”
“So Ugals is the capital of yer race on Everfae… because it’s more… expensive?” Joe asked.
Varig nodded, “That’s right. In fact, I would go as far to say that Ugals is most likely the most expensive fortress in all the Shards, not just Everfae. If the Shards were united, I truly believe that we would be the capital of the entirety of our kind.”
“Honestly? I believe it.” Joe replied, “This place is insane.”
Varig chuckled, “More than you see, I would say.”
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“The tunnels are this way,” Varig deflected, “We have supplies that will last us the journey waiting for us there.”
Joe didn’t press the issue, but he found himself wondering just what Varig meant by that.