When morning came around, everybody around Jack was busy. Louis was stressing out about proper ways to greet dwarven diplomats, Grace was trying to get in some last-minute practice on flying mechanisms, Aleksi was busy making the old world’s strongmen look weak, and Elijah was… Jack actually wasn’t sure what Elijah was doing.
He’d found a leyline some two hundred meters away from where they’d camped. Jack hadn’t gotten the finer details, but it was apparently important enough to sit in the grass for an extra hour. Even if Elijah had said that it was just to use the new source of mana to improve the structure of the altered grass, Jack felt there was more to it.
But whatever. If Elijah wasn’t comfortable talking about it, Jack didn’t see a reason to pressure him on it. Not like Jack didn’t have his own projects to get through.
Dual-Channeling of [Ranged Transmutation] and [Transmute Solid] has been activated! Current cost: 3MP/sec
No messing up the eyes this time, Jack. You’re better than that.
If anybody asked, Jack would readily admit that this wasn’t what he had expected to spend the past days doing. He might’ve had a knack for putting together pistols from an early age, but that had never translated into a gift of the more artistic hobbies. Not something that could be described as pretty, as his old schoolmates would assure him.
But now? Well, they weren’t around to push him down.
“Eyebrows are too high up again,” Louis commented from beside Jack, as he took a breather from the papers.
Blinking a few times, Jack looked at his work again. The eyes were in perfect position, that slight indent made the illusion of greater depth work beautifully, and… yeah, fuck, it wasn’t proportionate.
“Shit,” Jack cursed. He felt the pull on his Core strengthen as the air was converted into stone to cover up his mistakes. “Thought I had it this time.”
“It wasn’t a massive mistake or anything,” Louis amended. Jack raised his eyebrows at the words. “It’s leagues better than what you could do three days ago.”
“Really? Thanks. That’s very kind of you.”
“Just stating the obvious,” the prince countered, which made Jack chuckle. He was pretty sure he’d figured Louis out by now. Beneath that short-fused badly tempered front was a sweet little boy who just wanted to be friends. “Stop looking at me like that.”
Jack made no such promises, going back to his work as the prince did the same. The eyes and the surrounding areas were still a little too large compared to everything else, but maybe if he… No, it was too much work to finish. There was more to be gained by just starting over anyway.
Who to make, though?
Sasha hadn’t liked her portrait, Elijah and Aleksi’s beards were a nightmare to get right, Fade just stared him down the last time he showed her, and Dawn… he still wasn’t sure if the duck had understood the concept of portraits. Even if she could transform into a person now, that look in her eye made the hairs on his neck rise.
But who was left then? Himself?
… Nah. Jack wasn’t that self-obsessed just yet. The line of thought wasn’t too bad, though. Even if he didn’t draw his own face, nothing was stopping him from drawing one he’d seen thousands of times throughout his life.
Doing the wrinkles would be a little harder, but Jack didn’t let that stop him. Activating the two spells again, he got to work doing the outline of the head. After that came the hair, the ears, the nose, the mouth, those lines that had steadily started to appear on her cheeks, that strain when she smiled, those eyes that were as bright as ever, that prideful attitude she carried herself with, and that determination to never falter in her ways.
Checking his work several times over, remembering to change the angle he was looking from, Jack failed to see anything that looked wrong. The eyes were perfect, the smile looked realistic, the eyebrows were exactly where they were meant to be, and the curling strands of hair looked identical to how they’d been when he’d last seen her.
It was his best work yet.
“Who’s that supposed to be?” Louis asked when Jack put down the stone to let his Core rest for a bit. He was hoping to add in colors, but that had to be later with how his body had started to ache. “I don’t recognize them.”
“I’d be a little shocked if you did,” Jack said, picking the plate up again to show off to the prince. “This is my mother.”
Jack didn’t miss the flinch as the last word was uttered, how Louis’ eyes grew a little wider, and how Fade glanced their way a second later.
“... Oh,” was what finally left the prince. “She looks like a fine woman.”
“I’m sure she would agree with you,” Jack replied. He could remember the section of the old bathroom solely for his mother’s skincare routines. He’d never understood the need for it at the time, but as the years had passed the habit had started to make sense. “Wouldn’t accept another answer even. She’d beat your ass if you had the nerve to say something bad about her.”
It’d been so many years since she’d been angry at him, though. There had been a few occasions when he was a kid where she’d been more furious than roaring thunder, but it’d been rare to see later on.
Maybe that was because he’d avoided Dad and her after he left for the army. They hadn’t been happy about it, even if he was promised good money for his service.
“I miss her,” he confessed. When Louis didn’t comment, he cracked a smile. “Consequences of getting thrown into another world, you know? Next to no chance of ever seeing your family again.”
When Jack thought about it a little more, he supposed that Louis would know how true that fact was as well.
“Sorry if I brought up anything depressing there,” he apologized, but Louis waved it off.
“Think nothing of it,” the prince assured him. “Unlike what most want you to think, people do grow and move on after enough years. It can take time, but we’ll find a way to accept it one way or another.”
“Fine words,” Jack complimented with a smile. The thought of coloring his newest work was put away as he glanced over at the papers strewn all over Louis’ lap. While he still had next to no grasp on this world’s written word, it was impossible to miss the multitudes of notes next to every other paragraph. “Are you nervous?”
“The esteemed diplomats of Serenova are never nervous,” Louis denied. Both knew he didn’t mean it. “I’m… I’m just not feeling confident about my role in this. Out of everybody, I’m the weakest link.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” Jack rebuked, giving the prince a tap on the shoulder. “The only reason that we’re able to travel out like this is because you’re here. What, you think me or Sasha are going to be talking on behalf of Serenova?”
“God, no.”
"Exactly!" he continued. “You’ve worked hard, you’ve learned all the important parts of all this business stuff, and you can most definitely do a better job than anybody else here.”
“Now there I have to disagree just a little,” Louis countered, eyes briefly moving to the wagon behind them. Jack wasn’t sure who the prince had looked at but he didn’t really care. “But… Still. Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Hey, it’s no problem, dude,” Jack assured him. “We’ve all got some low moments.”
Louis didn’t offer a response and neither did Jack require it. He could spot the loosened shoulders, the deeper breaths, and the calmer eyes moving across the documents a few more times before putting them down one final time. The prince was ready.
Good that he was, since the group soon after found themselves nearing their destination. As they reached the peak of the last hill, Jack could see the more rocky terrain ahead. The grass still grew around the path, but it progressively started to be overtaken by stone and rubble until only patches of green appeared here and there.
Old city walls.
The line of stone wasn’t as thick or tall as what Jack had seen in other settlements, but he could hardly complain. As they rode into the small city, he had to guess that it had been abandoned for at least a hundred years. There were some smaller remnants of rotted wood here and there, but everything else that remained was small crumbling buildings of light-gray stone.
All of them were one floor only, just large enough for a family, and slowly being reclaimed by nature.
“Weird place to meet,” Jack commented as he moved to the front of the wagon, where Aleksi and Fade were sitting in silence. “I wasn’t expecting something as luxurious as in Melrond, but this seems a little off to me.”
“Dwarves don’t have a reason to care for aesthetics on the world’s surface,” Aleksi explained with a grin. “Just give it a minute.”
Jack had no desire to do such a thing, another dozen questions popping up in his head, but as they neared the end of the small town he did a quirk about the style of the buildings. The ones at the front half of the town were equipped with slanted roofs, following the a-frame style that was popular in Kulvik and Melrond, but those further in were completely flat.
And, though they were still in states of disrepair, the structures had held themselves together much better.
… Oh.
It was a front, a town purposefully left behind and allowed to rot since only the stuff beneath was important.
How Jack wished he had Alin’s magical senses. What he wouldn’t give to see everything that must have been beneath their feet at that very moment.
Or, well, what he wouldn’t give to see it early, since a mighty shout made Jack certain he’d bear witness to dwarven glory very soon.
“Well met!”
A dwarf was walking out to the end of the path to greet them.
Not just a person that was short, however. An actual fucking dwarf. Jack tried to be respectful as his wide-eyed gaze swept over the dwarven man, but he knew in his heart that Louis wouldn’t be happy about his excitement.
But, again, who wouldn’t be this excited? The diplomat in front of them only reached Louis’ chest when it came to his height, but the dwarf was easily twice as wide. Jack had personally thought Aleksi to be the peak of what a humanoid skeletal frame could carry, but those bulging muscles with a layer of fat on the dwarf were unreal.
And with that bronze-like skin and that long and braided silver beard, matched by the long hair with just as many rings and braids, it was impossible to see them and think of the dwarf as human.
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“Well met,” Louis replied as he stood before the dwarven diplomat. “I’m Louis Newell, son of Mason Newell. My apologies for not notifying Darim about the change in diplomats. The past weeks have been rather chaotic.”
“Hold your head high, lad. There is no shame in prioritization,” the dwarven diplomat said. “And to all of you, I believe introductions are due. My name is Hafrad Silverstone, son of Hafred, and I hold the title of First Diplomat for Darim. It is my pleasure to meet you all.”
Jack nodded in greeting without a thought, noting that strange glisten in the stone that sat in the center of the dwarven beard. While many of the other beads in the braided hair shared the coloring, it was only this one that had such a near-perfect reflection.
What metal was that? Silver? It would fit the diplomat’s name, but if that was silver what were all the other silvery-colored metals? Jack wanted to ask, but Louis’ round of introducing them was nearing its end and there was no chance of butting in right now.
“—and, lastly, this is Jack Larson, another Follower of Elijah Caede.”
“So many new faces,” Hafrad commented, accompanied by a welcoming grin. “Before the end of the day, I hope to know all your stories, but before we can talk in tales we must talk of the current events.”
“Unfortunately so, yes,” Louis agreed. “I hope you can guide us to a… location more fit for diplomacy.”
“Oh, I most certainly know a good place to rest your feet,” Hafrad assured the prince. “Come along, all of you. And bring your horses and wagons as well. There is an area for them by the entrance with food and shelter.”
Even the horses seemed excited by that prospect, Aleksi and Fade barely needing to tug at the lines before the animals followed the group.
It didn’t take long before they were herded around the last few buildings and Jack was granted the sight of a well-hidden cave entrance. It was impossible to see when looking at it from afar, but as they closed in on it, the jagged edges weren’t as dense, and a wide side tunnel was revealed.
As promised, there was enough space at the front for the horses and the wagons to stay, and the group could travel down large, well-cut stairs made of gray stone.
While this place didn’t possess that blue bioluminescent moss that the dungeon had, the tunnel was still well-lit thanks to off-white stones embedded into the ceiling and upper parts of the walls. When looking up at them, Jack couldn’t help but be reminded of star-filled nights.
“I take it you like the additions from Lodar, lad?” Hafrad asked, catching Jack’s attention once again. “The dwarven mines are not usually equipped with these glowing pebbles, as our eyes are more than adapted to the darkness below, but you surface-races need a little help.”
“Well, yeah, I haven’t seen anything like it before,” Jack answered, not sure what else to say. “But… What is Lodar exactly?”
Even without looking over at Louis, Jack could just feel the prince’s shoulders tense.
“You don’t know the homeland of the dwarves?” Hafrad questioned, the dwarf’s voice a mix of horror and disbelief. Jack shook his head. “By Duron’s beard… To not know the stories of the deepest cities is a tragedy in itself. We will fix this together before the sun can rise again.”
It was a promise, one that Jack could do nothing but agree to as the group reached the end of the stairs. The star-like pattern of glowing stone steadily began to come together into larger chunks until they mimicked the lamps that he was used to seeing.
Not the most shocking sight, however, and certainly nothing in comparison to what grand room they bore witness to a little further down the tunnel.
Furs.
Jack hadn’t been sure what to expect when it came to diplomatic meetings with dwarves. A hidden chamber far below the surface was a certainty, of course, but the decorations inside. With glowing stone that kept the large room illuminated, a table filled with strange fruits and meats, and a dozen large sofas completely covered in thick multi-colored fur… It was so far removed from his idea of the dwarven style Jack had in his head.
Every piece of furniture was made of stones of some kind, of course, but the leather and furs weren’t something that fit in with the thought of a race that lived far below the surface. And, yet, it was real.
Fluffy.
“Furs from the Chimeric Panthers,” Hafrad supplied, as Jack’s hand sunk into the material. The softness was unbelievable. “Though they are a few decades old now, they still hold up well.”
“The quality of goods from Darim’s dungeon was never in dispute,” Louis said, accepting the invitation and settling down on the sofa opposite the dwarf together with Fade. Jack moved to do the same, but Aleksi’s hand guided him over to the side. By the expression of the giant, it seemed that they weren’t to say anything until discussions were complete. “And certainly not from me. Every winter, I’ve used the very same blanket which was weaved from the wool of Thunder Sheep.”
“Ah, a good eye for quality!” the dwarven diplomat praised. “I can respect that.”
Backs straightened a little, the easy atmosphere became heavier, and the subject instantly turned to business.
“You’ve sent us a letter wanting to discuss our trading agreements several months ahead of schedule,” Louis said in a matter-of-fact voice. “To be blunt, this was a very unnerving message to receive so soon after the turmoil in Serenova.”
“We understand and my king apologizes for any pain we might’ve caused with this timing, but the matter was too important to delay further than we already have,” Hafrad replied, giving a short bow before continuing. “It is perhaps because of this turmoil that we too have been affected.”
“In what way?” Louis questioned. “We have had no larger dealings with you, outside of the gold trades.”
“Indeed, but our official trading policies with Castilla are affected regardless,” the dwarven diplomat explained.
At the mention of the country, Jack could feel Aleksi tense, the giant’s left arm pressing against him just a little more. Even Elijah, who had been lost in thought the entire day, fell back into the real world to listen in with more focus.
“In the past two months, Castilla has altered the agreement significantly,” Hafrad continued. The dwarf’s eyes did not wager, as they looked into Louis’. “We have been ordered to deliver double the amount of furs and meats if we wish to receive the same weight of gold and silver. The reason for this is an alleged shortage of precious metals, which has heavily increased their worth, but we believe that the truth is more aligned with that of greed.”
“It’s a kingdom composed of vultures,” Louis muttered. “If they think they can get away from cutting themselves a larger slice of the world’s wealth, they will.”
“A mindset that too many of them possess,” Hafrad agreed. The dwarf sighed before continuing. “While their greed has increased so massively, the output of our dungeon and the needs of our people has remained the same. We cannot comply with their demands without the life quality of Darim’s folk lessening, and so the trade between my country and your own must be altered.”
Oh, that wasn’t good.
Even if Jack wasn’t all that much for politics, he’d been forced to listen in at the more important meetings for a while now, and he could tell that the implied situation had made a 180. Vera had been so worried that the dwarves were hoping to exploit their new apparent weakness to be granted more gold for a lower price, but the truth was that Castilla was exploiting Darim.
Or maybe the diplomat was lying. Elijah and Vera’s cynical thoughts about the behavior of other countries and their inhabitants did hold some weight.
“That… is certainly not what I expected to hear,” Louis replied, probably going through a similar thought process to Jack. “I didn’t know that Darim was so heavily dependent on Castilla for your supply of precious metals.”
“It wasn’t always like this, and it wasn’t our intention to become reliant on Castilla, I can assure you, but the past two centuries have expanded Darim far past what our brothers in Stroham and Lodar can grant us without suffering themselves,” Hafrad explained. “It is a stroke of irony, that we can harvest meat and furs to feed and clothe millions every year, but the metals that we so crave are outside our grasp. The mines only have so much, and, even if the people of Darim don’t require as much substance as our brothers and sisters deeper down, we still need to consume the metals to stay strong.”
If not for Louis glancing over at Fade, Jack would’ve missed the subtle nod that the Dreamweaver gave.
Weird.
“A tragic thing, truly, but perhaps it is one we can help you with,” Louis said, accepting the papers that Fade handed him a moment later. “Though I can’t say any true specifics about changes in pricing, I know it will likely have to change to accommodate the increased volume being sold to you.”
“We have expected as much, lad. Don’t worry about offending us with a thing such as this,” Hafrad replied. The dwarf opened one of the many satchels fastened to his belt, bringing out his own documents. From the momentary glance, Jack was able to get from its writings, he could tell that it was a different language than the one that Serenova used. “What increases in trading volume would be possible for Serenova to accommodate?”
“How large an increase in volume would Darim need to operate at current levels?”
“Large enough that we wouldn’t dare dream to be fully rid of Castilla’s clutches.”
“... I see,” Louis said, before starting the competition of rattling off numbers without end, comparing different price groups, going into detail about long-term possibilities, trying to find middle grounds, and steadily sending out messages to Vera and Kulvik through the enchanted papers to get more information about what was possible and what wasn’t.
Jack tried to follow along, he really did, but it was just unending. Serenova didn’t mind the increased supply of luxury meats and tough leather, since they would soon need to feed a population training for war, and many variants of the leathers and furs that could be harvested in Darim’s dungeon were lighter and better than steel for when made into armor, but they also had previous agreements that limited how much additional gold they could grant the dwarves.
It nearly took an hour of discussion, but one point did strike out amongst all of the others.
“My sister, Her Highness, is willing to make arrangements that increase your cut of the gold harvests from nine percent to twenty-one instead of sixteen, but she has one requirement for this that she will not bend on,” Louis announced, hands tight around the documents. “If Castilla invades within the next five years, we want the aid of Darim’s forces.”
… Hafrad didn’t answer instantly. The dwarven eyes revealed nothing, in fact, as they continued to steadily observe Louis’ movements. The air, which had already grown thick, pressed down on every person there without mercy, and it didn’t stop until a sigh escaped the dwarf’s lips.
“You ask a lot of us, Louis Newell, son of Mason Newell,” Hafrad said. The documents which were splayed out over the table were slowly gathered together into a neat pile, in the exact same order that they had been brought out. “The Dwarven People of Darim have made agreements with Castilla centuries ago, ones that we might regret but that fact matters little. The humans of that country might be trying to force our hands, to continue trading in a volume that would cripple us, but we have both signed a pact of non-aggression. Until the day comes when Castilla attacks the people of Darim, Stroham, or Lodar, we will not point our weapons towards them.
“It’s the exact same reason we refused to even entertain the offer of a war alliance with Castilla two months ago when they proposed the idea of us assisting them with the recapture of Serenova’s lands. Above all else, we stick to our pacts.”
Oh, shit.
Had anybody expected that? Jack hadn’t, and the tensed jaw on Louis’ face made him think the prince hadn’t either.
“That you don’t raise your weapon towards Serenova will help us in the coming war,” Louis supposed, putting a hand on his face while he collected his thoughts. “Did… If you don’t mind me asking, what did Castilla offer in return for this war alliance?”
“They thought you were worth less than a third of the harvested products from your dungeon,” Hafrad replied with no hesitation. “It was an insult to our kind, but we turn the other cheek because we are used to their foolishness.”
“Foolish indeed,” the prince muttered. A small break was had, while the responses were communicated back to Vera through the enchanted paper. “My sister is saddened by the news but accepts that you must stick to your oaths. If Darim still finds it amenable to supply Serenova with high-quality meats and hides, with the latter class of materials intended to be used for the crafting of armor for our soldiers, we can change the volume of gold being sold from nine percent to sixteen of what is harvested from the dungeon. This will have the additional volume be sold at a five percent markup, but the former discussions convince me that this won’t be an issue for either party.”
“Too right, lad,” the dwarven diplomat agreed, as they both noted down the final numbers. “Following the tradition from previous dealings between Darim and Serenova, we expect that you would wish to write the contract in your own tongue?”
“You would be right,” Louis said, making the final line in the papers before handing it over to Fade. “In three to four weeks, you can either arrive at Kulvik to sign the contract or we can meet here again at that time instead.”
“Kulvik works fine for me,” Hafrad assured them. “It has been many years since I last saw the works of Alin Oathbreaker. Going by the letters of inquiry he has sent our libraries this past decade, I am curious about what architectural modifications he has done since my last visit.”
“Well, if you’re hoping to see it all for yourself, I won’t reveal what modifications Alin has made to the castle and city in recent years,” the prince replied. “Now… with the business out of the way, I suppose we must adhere to the second tradition.”
A nod in the giant’s direction was enough for action to ensue, as Aleksi rose from the sofa and grabbed the bag by his feet. Walking over to the main table, which was now cleared of various documents from both sides, he put the bag down and began to gently take out the contents.
“By Duron’s beard!” Hafrad exclaimed, grabbing one of the bottles revealed. They were quite large, about the size of a wine bottle, but the glass was black and the liquid within shared the color. “Great stouts from the northern breweries of Mane. The last time I had a taste of these finely aged beers was more than a decade ago when I visited my brothers in Stroham. How did you acquire so many?”
“Most of the more steadfast merchants that visit our ports venture all the way from the west to the east, and years of calmly collecting and saving rarer bottles has allowed my family to bring out the good stuff for special occasions like this,” Louis explained, as he removed the wax from one of the bottles to allow access to the glory within. “Now, experience with alcohol of this strength has taught me that food should be consumed in plenty along with it, so… shall we?”
“We shall!”