The battle was won, the great beast lay dead, and Emile carefully used a viciously sharp knife to prepare it for harvest. I sat on a freshly made stump, the tree having been harvested for a new purpose. More men had shuffled into the area, dragging wounded allies or returning with fallen equipment. They had found hiding places away from the battle, and now lent a hand with the work.

“They work fast,” I said, nodding to the dwarven workers making rough boards to repair the carts. I absently rubbed a thumb down the side of the multicoloured gem, pouring over the menus as they appeared, curious to its effects. A loading bar below the menus slowly filled. “Come on, little bar, move faster.”

Yara held out her hands to a small crackling fire, with only her eyes visible outside her snow gear. “They are level six carpenters, I’m not surprised. I am quite curious why they would be trekking out here instead of just going to a city. Their level and skills alone make them hireable on the spot.”

Lin added a few more sticks to the fire and perked up her ears. “One of the carpenters mentioned meeting the others at the safety of a safe dwarven hole. Not sure what that is, but they sound like they came this way for a reason.”

I pushed away one menu with a recipe that needed several kinds of dragon scales and way more crafting levels than I had for the multicoloured ‘elemental gem’ in my hand. I sat up and looked at the torches around the area, seeing they were all gathering in one place. “I’m going to check on Elkan.”

Yara snorted, blowing out a cloud of vapour in the chill air. “Better get your spear back before he starts naming it. Dwarves get pretty sentimental around their weapons.”

I smirked, dusted off my pants and rose, feeling better now. “Hey Lin?”

“Hmm?” Lin was halfway into biting into a piece of jerky and looked at me with illuminated curiosity as the moon rose over the forest.

I rubbed the top of Yara’s head, getting my leg swatted from her tail for the trouble. “Make sure Yara doesn’t freeze while I’m gone.”

Yara threw a bundle of kindling and sticks in, growing the fire like it was a gluttonous fiend. “I’m used to the tropics or the burning salt flats, why did I agree to do this?”

I waved and walked towards the gathering torches. I still had a lot of questions on my mind, like why this time the experience from slaying the gryphon was evenly divided, and how the hell the gnomes got one of those things. They were proving to be more and more problematic, and I started to formulate an idea of what to do as I had a rough idea where they were holding out. I rested my hand on my magic bag, the remains of the automatons now inside. It was a shame to lose them, but they could be rebuilt, I was just glad no one had died.

Perception : Success!

I saw the glint of the fire spear and made my way to it. “Hey Elkan, what’s going on?”

The dwarf was surrounded by his peers, all with heads hung low. He placed a hand on the back of the healer who reattached the very same arm, and said something in a low voice. He backed up outside the ring of fire, revealing what they were around, and I felt a lump in my throat.

Laid out on their backs with arms crossed over their chest were six dead men. The three dwarves had deep cuts into their torsos, visible under the torn mail that had given way to the powerful beast. A wolf beast-kin held a fine staff and wore robes under his long cloak. Frost and feathers dotted his chest like a pincushion, and I could almost see the spell that might have been on his tongue when he fell. Two humans, twins even, had broken spears and shields over their chests, with one claw from the gryphon laid over them as a trophy.

“Elkan, I’m sorry-” I bit my mouth as my voice failed me.

Elkan motioned to back away, getting us out of ear shot from the mourners. “Lad, you came in to give us the hand to keep the rest here. If only the damn clan father let us stop at that fort, the damn f-” He shook his head and sucked in part of his beard as he bit back a few words. “Listen, they were warriors, the whole lot of them. They lived and died in battle, and they only fell to a magical beast that usually takes a full team of readied adventurers to take on. We only lost a few pack beasts back at the caravan before we got it to follow us, so the families are safe, that’s what matters. Most pray to Borros we can die in the service of the clan like that.”

I nodded and leaned against one of the trees. I felt the pit in my throat settle into my stomach as it dawned on me. “Where was this fort?”

Elkan pointed the spear towards my dungeon. “Scouts found it, and didn't see any motion except a light in one of the towers. Some people thought it was abandoned, or cursed, talked the clan father out of letting knock on the gates- hang on. Where did you come from?”

I pointed in parallel with the spear point.

Elkan barked out a laugh and slapped me on the back. “Well put a sign out next time! Gods above we thought you might be some of those dark god cultists or worse that are around here. If the clan father knew there could be a warm bed nearby, maybe he wouldn’t be a lead statue.”

“Who scouted out my fort?” I asked.

Elkan shrugged. “Eh, beast-kin’s had a few rogues, they just got close enough to take a look and ran back with their tails between their legs. They didn’t even mention the metal men you have walking around, so clearly we need to train them up. By the way, I love the weapon, but I must say this is no weapon for a soldier.”

Elkan held out the spear and ran a hand down it. “Fine work, I can see dwarven techniques mixed with goblin machine work here, with an elven spear head design. The enchantments are beyond me, but I got this.”

He showed me a menu from a skill check showing the max charge for the weapon represented by a red bar, going from dark red to bright, with a grey sliver at the end.

“That’s not a good sign,” I said. I rubbed my thumb around the leaf blade spear head, seeing some discoloration. “Doesn’t seem like it will impact it, yet.”

Elkan tapped his nose. “Terrible on a campaign, but for an adventurer needing a power boost who frequents return visits to town…”

“They would have to pay to maintain it.” I finished. “And I have a guess who had a hand in that idea of design.”

“Benson!”

The shout was followed by a dwarf thrashing in the snow. “We can’t leave him!”

Emile had the gryphon and its parts loaded into a makeshift cart, beside him was the healer gesturing to the wounded giant goat. The animal was laying on the ground, ignoring the four dwarves pulling a rope attached to a harness he wore. The goat looked at them impassively with its square pupils, uncaring of their pleas.

The dwarf in the snow popped up beside the goat, his hands clasped together. “Benson my sweet lad! By Borros’s hammer, Heienkia’s tits and Ishaka’s-” The dwarf was sent skyward as the goat used his head to flip his owner. The goat let out a defiant bleat and rose. The stunned dwarf hit the ground and raised a shaky hand. “Benson! You're okay!”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

The annoyed goat followed the four men pulling on his rope and walked to the front of the cart, letting himself get attached. There were two other carts, with less temperamental giant goats, by the fallen warriors. Lin and Yara had snuffed out the fire and were helping lift stretchers onto a cart, where wounded men sat.

I followed Elkan and we helped the last few onto the cart, and with that we were off. It didn’t seem like they wanted to stick around. Emile led at the front and invited anyone to march by him to help in case of an attack. Yara and Lin took him up on the offer while I was at the back with a few dwarves, and another human to divide our strengths.

Elkan pushed on the back of the cart helping it lurch over a root back onto the roadway. “Glad to have you mage. If another one shows up you can blast its wings off and we can hack it apart!”

The other dwarves cheered and the human, a young man around my age, gave a half hearted ‘yay’, lifting the warhammer my automaton once had. The dwarves who could sit up in the wounded cart held onto torches or lanterns to give us light.

“Never had the chance yet to say hello yet,” I said, sticking a hand out to Elkan.

“Well how do you do stranger? Are you a travelling bard to lighten our day, or a witch here to trick us?” Elkan lightly jabbed, gripping my hand so tightly I heard my knuckles crack.

Elkan, Dwarf, Level 10 Tunnel Fighter

Strength 17

…

“Seventeen strength? How come we didn’t hook you up to a cart?” I asked.

One of the dwarves nearby chuckled. “Guess he's a friendly sort then eh?”

The human was busy biting his nails, watching the shadows while the dwarves were at ease. I heard Emile laugh at the front and saw a flash of motion with Yara slinging Lin over her shoulder. I shook my head and looked at the folk around me.

At first I thought they might have been guards, like to a merchant caravan but I saw they had some decent gear. The dwarves had full mail, weapons and small tools in their belts, heavy cloaks and more. A few others introduced themselves to me, and they even asked to see some magic. In response I cleaned off the blood on their mail, and even let one of them try out a wand to do it themselves.

I got the impression that the human, a level one shoe maker called Keith, was a run of the mill person, while all the dwarves were hardened warriors, some only a level or two below Elkan. They were far more sure footed on the road following the carts in the dark while Keith swore under his breath when his feet found roots or potholes. After I had stubbed my toe for the third time I ended up following right behind one of the dwarves.

“Ah but you see our levels are deceptive,” Elkan said, tugging on his beard.

One of the other dwarves, Dolomite, cracked his back and groaned like an old man. “Aye, most of us are retired. We went on campaigns or adventured until we were level seven then took the guild up on their offer to be trainers. Elkan’s last three levels were nothing but talents to teach others.”

Eklan hummed. “Oh? Better than Dolomite using five skill points to improve his complaining skill to legendary levels. But he has a point, I’m rusty. Failed my dodge check when in a grapple, even with my talent, and the beast clipped my arm. Bloody hurt, I don’t recommend it.”

The dwarf rubbed his sleeve, right around where his stitches would be. I winced at the thought, when I had lost mine I was so out of it at the time I barely registered it.

“Hey Josh,” Eklan shuffled closer, leaning his head in for only me to hear. “Don’t tell the others but I lost my weapon to where only the great smith himself could find it. Damn bird flew off with it. Mind if I borrow this spear until we reach the trade post tomorrow?”

I tapped the sword on my belt. “I’m more used to the sword anyways. Besides, I assume you have the skills for it, so it will be more effective.”

“Aye, I name you friend of the dwarves my good fellow!” Elkan shouted, then winced as the others looked at him. “Get back to work you lot! I don’t want gnomes ruining our day for a second time.”

The dwarves chuckled to themselves and we fanned out to cover more ground. We walked for what felt like an hour, rotating around with the dwarves on the outside as they claimed they could see further out into the dark. I ended up making light conversation with the wounded, one of which told me about his kid who was off to distant lands to study to be a wizard as well. The man held up a spherical amulet that looked like a peach and had a spout for a stem. It flowed out a thimble full of fluid into a small cup he offered me, calling it a specialty of his homeland. When I tried it I felt like I burnt a hole into my gut from the overpowering alcohol that left the taste of peaches in my sinuses. He grinned ear to ear and told me if I put water into the amulet it would convert it to the iconic drink in a little under an hour.

I drank water out of a canteen and coughed as my eye watered. It was hard not to smile seeing how proud the man was of his son’s work, and I did admit the aftertaste was nice. Although the only thing I could now taste or smell was peaches.

It was far better than the scent of blood and it caused a stir as the wounded poked and prodded the man to share. He shared it around and lightly teased them if they could complain then they weren’t as hurt as they claimed.

Our trek came to a stop outside a crumbling wall. The woods were thinning out, and a freshwater lake glimmered nearby, the moons reflecting off the still surface. Inside the broken section of wall were dozens of carts and tents crowded around ancient low buildings. Between them were tall imposing shapes in the darkness, and I borrowed a torch, seeing it was a statue of a stony faced dwarf on a large scale.

“Ah, one of the old holy sites, long ago when the old king Haldrog reigned,” Elkan said.

Tired, worried people came out from the camp to help roll the carts in, and hushed tones were whispered around the cart of the dead. I caught a few words, something about making more space at a pyre in the morning, and letting the families know soon. A few stifled sobs were heard, and Emile made his way to the back of the line to meet me.

The man’s face was taxed as weariness was setting in, but he put on the best front he had for me. “Thank you again for the aid of you and your companions. If I was a younger man, that beast, hmm…anyways. I briefly spoke to a captain and they have a warm place by the temple you three can stay at if you wish. I would advise against returning in the darkness.”

As for my companions they shuffled over, sharing a few words from the wounded who wished them well. Yara was hidden under another cloak that I saw was the top cover to a tent, and Lin beside looked exhausted. I nodded and thanked Emile, shaking his hand. I had my own reasons for wanting to rest, but I felt it best to keep I was drained of mana to myself to not cause worry.

Elkan led the way, and as we passed the crumbling walls I felt different. Where outside was wilderness, unknown dangers and darkness, here was order. I didn’t see it from outside but within the walls around the small settlement I saw a dozen houses arranged perfectly square around the central building, the temple.

The homes were made out of singular massive slabs of rock the size of shipping containers, impossibly heavy even for a giant to move, and carved out to make a home. They showed signs that their walls were once brightly adorned by the passage of time and had stripped the colours, replacing them with ivy. They must have been a thousand years old, with erosion shaving the sharp angled walls, and I caught muffled conversion coming from inside, where people had laid claims to these ancient shelters for safety once more.

The dwarf statues between the houses faced out, as if they were look outs to the people, and despite the apparent age of the place the roads could still be seen. Each stone was perfectly aligned, placed with such precision and care that even if all the paints and mortar had fallen away the road was still here to lay claim to the presence of the original builder.

“Oh yeah, that’s real dwarf work,” Elkan said reverently as we approached the large building in the centre. “Blessed be me for walking the old path.”

The bulwark of stone jutting out of the earth was a great monolith, the sides shaved down, making a T-shape. It took me a moment to see what it was. A hammer. More interesting was the open door at the base, with people inviting us in.

We followed Elkan down the steps, setting below the ground to enter a dark stony room with a few other people. A dwarf with his arm in a sling ran up to us and tackled Elkan into a hug, the dwarf calling Elkan a brother. The brother clapped him on the shoulder and inspected Elkan’s arm, seeing the vicious marks left behind and then he became very curious about the spear. Elkan showed it off, and we shuffled inside past the brothers to get out of the cold and see what this place was.

A silver bearded dwarf wearing a scaled armour from head to toe dusted with bronze sat beside a snow leopard cat girl at a stone block altar, their hands in unison stretched. The woman was in more homely clothing, and I saw on the back of her green cloak was the holy oak tree. Several holy symbols covered the surface of the altar and Yara perked up, as if hearing it call to her. She reached out to tap the air, and it caused a stir.

I felt a presence in the room, and over the scent of peaches I smelled a workshop. Like fresh cut lumber, hot metal and dust all rolled into a work jacket a jolly older man would wear to my old job back on Earth. I heard the fall of a hammer behind the altar striking metal, and small holes in the wall lit up with ethereal flames to reveal the room. We were in a forge.