Alun looked down into his empty cup. and tried to process all of the information he had just received. The heretic gods, the Eldar Wars, and from what Huldain was saying, it may all be linked to the destruction of Stonehill. Shivers crept up his spine as he remembered the mutant wolf-people who had attacked himself and Luther. He looked over at Huldain, who sat in his chair watching Alun take everything in. Suddenly, a knock at the door caused Alun to jump off from his stool and let it fall onto the ground, creating a loud bang which echoed around the forge.
Huldain's eyebrows rose for a moment, then in his deep booming voice he said, "Come in Orei, its open."
The door opened to show the red haired Dwarfess. "I thought I might find you here. When you didn't turn up to the pub I thought to myself, I bet he's at old Huldain's receiving life lessons and whatnot."
Huldain smiled, then looked at Alun. "Away you go, lad. Have some fun, but do not hesitate to come back if you feel your curiosity spike again. I might be able to teach you how to control it."
Orei and Alun made their way out of Huldain's forge and onto the black smouldering island beyond.
Orei turned to Alun. "How exactly did you get here in the first place? The bridge was up; I had to pull it down to get across."
Alun stopped for a moment and looked around for a bridge. Just a little further up the bank than the pinnacle he jumped from, a lever mechanized bridge lay over the river of lava. Alun pointed shame faced at the pinnacle, and Orei stared in amazement.
"You jumped? You jumped across that gap? Off of that point?"
Alun nodded and Orei burst into laughter. "You are one crazy bastard, my friend. You wait until the lads hear about this."
Together, they made their way over the bridge, through the Smithing quarter, and up the lifts towards the military quarter. Orei was still smiling about Alun's jump as they entered the pub Alun had passed sporting the singing Dwarves. In his absence with Huldain, the pub had erupted. Evidently at this time, most guards were off duty, and the singing before was nothing compared to the ruckus that had spilled onto the streets now; some hung from the upstairs windows calling out to their fellow workmates.
Inside was chaos. Some Dwarves hurled axes at painted targets on the stone walls, while others danced on tables, singing along to the band, which from what Alun could tell consisted of half the room. A beardless Dwarf offered him a beer on a tray, and Alun had to look twice to compare her to Orei as a Dwarfess. As he took the beer, the tray was knocked from the Dwarf woman's hand, and sent splintering across the room. In turn, the lass span around and laid into the culprit who had knocked it over.
Orei looked up at Alun with a massive smile, and gave him the thumbs up as a chair flew overhead. Alun began to feel out of his depth, but as he drank the strange honey brewed mead of the Dwarves, he felt himself become as rowdy as the best of them. More chairs developed metaphorical wings as they smashed into the stone walls and were transformed into splintered fire wood. Mugs, bottles, and the occasional Dwarf also flew overhead, which was quite a feat considering the density of Dwarves. Alun found himself performing an awkward shuffling jig on a table next to Orei, who was apparently quite good at dancing.
The longer the night raged on, the more chaotic the inhabitants became. Upon entrance, Alun had wondered why the place had not thought to add glass to their windows, but now as Dwarf after Dwarf, and occasionally Alun, flew through the open holes in the walls and out into the street, it all made sense. The third or fourth time Alun found himself sailing through the windows, he realized he had probably had a few too many. Orei shortly followed, and crash landed across the street, destroying a number of flower pots in the process, and sending daisies sprawling in different directions.
Alun lay in the gutter panting. Staggering to his feet, he tried to pull Orei up, and found the weight too overbearing. He collapsed next to the Dwarfess, smashing a few more flower pots on the way down. Alun's head lolled in Orei's direction as he tried to communicate. His mouth had decided not to work as it flapped open and closed like a fish, allowing jumbled grunts to fall out, and his hands spasmed in the vague direction of his room, hoping that this would put the point across. Orei looked at Alun and burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. She rocked from side to side as the strange drunken fit took over, tears streaming down her face.
Alun, who could almost feel himself sobering up, decided to leave Orei to her mirth, and pulled his wobbling, spasmodic body into a vertical position. The street around him swayed and distorted, and on more than one occasion, Alun swore he was at sea, although he had never sailed or stepped on a boat in his life. He stumbled and tripped his way in his room's general direction, hoping that he was going the right way as he fell into alleyways and stumbled into main streets.
It was starting to dawn on Alun that perhaps, maybe he was not in the right place after all, when suddenly a very tall, rusty haired man walked down the other side of the alleyway he was in. The man's hair fell just beneath his shoulder blades and flicked out at the back. A small, scraggly beard traced around his chin and lips, giving the man a roguish demeanour. However, the black clothes he wore exuded richness. A strange golden contraption was strapped to his side, and seemed to twinkle and dance in the gloomy light of the alley.
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Alun clumsily looked into the eyes of the strange man with only one question on his mind. "You wouldn't happen to know where my bed would be, would you, old chap?"
The man seemed to take a moment then he pointed in the guard's quarters direction. Alun tipped an imaginary hat and then made his way to bed. Although he could not put his finger on it, Alun felt there was something very strange about that man.
Alun woke up to screaming, and felt his head pound and the room pulse as he jumped from his bed, still fully clothed from the night before. Daylight trickled in through strategically placed holes within the mountains above Doflhiem, stinging Alun's eyes as he pulled the curtains to closed. The screaming continued and suddenly bells chimed from far off.
Alun wrenched open his door onto the hallway to see hung-over guards piling out from their rooms. Orei appeared, bobbing in the river of armed Dwarves. She crashed into Alun's door frame with a grunt, and looked up with large bags beneath her eyes.
"A prisoner has escaped the Hanging Block! Luther started screaming before, going on about some weird thing with red eyes. I came and got you to shut him up."
Alun's mind had stopped listening at ‘red eyes’. The man, the night before – it all came back to him in a fuzzy daze. He now realized why the man was so strange: it was those eyes, those crimson eyes.
Orei pulled Alun along the bustling hallway towards Luther's room. The door opened to show Luther, curled up in a ball with his hands over his head, under his desk, screaming. Alun rushed over to the demented man. He grabbed the screaming Luther by the arm and hauled him onto the bed.
"Luther? Luther Quail? Can you hear me mate? It's me, Alun. It’s alright mate, calm down, calm down."
Luther's screams turned into whimpers as he lay on the bed in his tattered clothes.
Alun sat on the bed next to him, and Orei pulled up a chair. Alun patted Luther on the shoulder, and tried to comfort him as best he could. Luther's whimpers slowly died out, and after what seemed like hours, he uncurled himself and sat up next to Alun. Orei stayed silent, scared of what would happen if she spoke.
Luther looked over at him and pulled a guilty face. "Hello, Orei," he said in a broken voice.
Orei dipped her head in acknowledgment.
"I never thanked you for saving mine and Alun's life in Stonehill." Orei smiled at Luther.
"That’s alright lad. You had a pretty traumatic time, and I think you're just getting over it."
Luther nodded, then looked to Alun. "Thank you for the visits, Alun. I know I did not always respond, but it meant a lot to me,"
Alun patted Luther on the shoulder again. "That’s alright, mate. I'm here for you."
Luther nodded at this, and then looked down at his clothes. "I was wondering, Orei, did you have a spare set of clothes I could buy?"
Orei's eyebrows rose at the question. "Not to buy lad, but I have got some to give to you."
Luther blinked at the offer, then gave a weak smile. "Thank you, Orei. You are very kind."
Orei gave a snort and waved her hand. "It’s our custom for guests to be clothed, fed, and boarded."
Orei walked over to a cupboard built into the wall, and pulled out the same type of clothing Alun wore. She handed the clothes over to Luther, and indicated for Alun to stand up.
"We’ll leave you to get changed now, lad. Give us a yell if you need anything, ok?"
Luther nodded and weakly smiled at them as Alun and Orei left.
Bells still chimed around them as they made their way out of the guards’ sleeping quarters, and across to the same pub they had helped destroy the night before. A number of patrons still lay comatose over benches and across the floor. Orei left Alun at an empty table, and went over to the bar to order breakfast. Alun was starving, and the hangover still remained throbbing against his skull. Orei came back holding two mugs of steaming liquid, and shoved one in front of Alun. Alun looked into the steam and caught a whiff of the strongest, most potent smell he had ever experienced. The creamy liquid swirled on its own accord, and disgusted, Alun looked up at Orei, who was pinching her nose and about to down the putrid potion.
"What is this, Orei?” Alun grumbled. “It smells awful."
Orei paused and un-pinched her nose. "Trust me when I tell you, Alun, you don't want to know. It tastes worse, but can kick the hell out of any hangover. Now, down the hatch!"
Pinching her nose again, Orei drank the whole lot, and then exhaled, gasping for breath. Alun followed her lead; he pinched his nose and scoffed the foul liquid. Slimy lumps coursed down his throat, and he was just starting to think it wasn't the worst taste in the world when the aftertaste hit him like a locomotive. He gasped for air and spluttered about, desperately wishing he could cut out his tongue.
From what he could tell, the same Dwarfess who had served him the mead the night before came out with their breakfast. It was what Orei called hog bacon, piled high on a platter served with mushrooms, a side of beef, and strange orange beans coated in a creamy orange sauce. It tasted amazing, and after the strange hangover cure Orei had given him, Alun felt like he could eat anything.
They ate quickly, using chunks of bread to mop up the sauces, and when they were full and content, Orei pulled in closer and gave Alun a strange look.
"I would have liked to have known what Luther was screaming on about, with the red eyes."
Alun suddenly felt shivers creep down his spine. "Orei," he said, and Orei regarded him with another more inquisitive look. "I know what Luther saw. I saw it too when I stumbled home from the pub last night."
Orei's eyebrows rose in surprise, and impatiently she asked, "Well, what was it Alun? What did you see?"
Alun quickly recounted what had happened in the alley, and Orei turned white. Alun looked at his friend in concern.
"What is it, Orei?"
Orei turned to the bar and yelled out to the waitress. "Hey, Berty! Two shots of Dragon Spit over here, pronto!"
Berty came over, holding aloft her trusty tray with two small glasses containing steaming red liquid balanced on top. She placed them on the table, gave Orei a disapproving look, then walked away. Orei took up the glass, and slid the other over to Alun, who was bemused and curious by the whole process.
Taking up his own, Alun waited for Orei to count down. On three, Alun drank and instantly knew why it was called Dragon Spit; it burned all the way down into the pit of his stomach, and seemed to eat him from the inside out. He gasped, and took a few moments to recover.
He gave Orei a questioning look and asked, "What was all that about?"
Orei was wrapping her hands over each other in her nervousness. "It’s Myrian, Alun."