It took them two days to exit the forest. For two arduous days, they battled their way through the forest's ominous grip. Each step was a struggle against relentless assaults and restless nights that refused to let them rest. Aria's forewarning had proven chillingly accurate, the creatures of the woods were undergoing a terrifying transformation, twisted by the residual mana seeping from the hidden dungeon.

They had encountered wolves twisted by death magic, their movements leaving a wake of devastation. Every stride heralded the demise of the surrounding plant life, the ground withering into desolate soil beneath their paws. Even the vegetation itself seemed to have gained sentience, biding its time with a sinister intellect, ready to strike at an opportune moment. Among the many encounters, a fox stood out, its once graceful form now adorned with multiple shimmering tails. Miraculously, it fled instead of attacking, a fleeting act of mercy in a world intent on killing them.

With Aria's guidance, they finally breached the Greenwood Forest's threshold, stumbling upon a path leading to civilization. The "road," if it could be called that, was a mere thread of beaten earth meandering among colossal trees, choked with weeds and riddled with potholes. Neglected and barely discernible against the encroaching wilderness, it offered only a slight reprieve from the forest's suffocating embrace.

Their respite, however, was short-lived. Talax recoiled as a thunderous noise broke the silence, followed by an odious stench that assaulted his senses, causing an involuntary gag. He shot Qalo an indignant look, witnessing the half-orc wincing in agony, clutching his abdomen.

"Qalo!" Talax scolded vehemently, while Aria, her voice tinged with disdain, added, "Your companion lacks basic manners." Grunting in agreement, Talax observed Qalo's embarrassed expression. "My tummy hurts," Qalo whimpered forlornly, prompting Talax to shake his head in exasperation.

“I told you not to eat that thing! It was called venomous coilcreeper for crying out loud!” They had encountered a group of hand-sized worms, when they had stopped to take a breather. dispatching had been easy, albeit not before the creatures managed a few venomous bites. Unknown to them, the venom carried a magical potency, subjecting them to hallucinations for the next harrowing half-hour.

Despite the ordeal, Qalo saw the worms as a delightful addition to his stew and even entertained the thought of fashioning a scarf from the creatures' remains. Talax adamantly rejected the idea. In moments like these, he longed for Franny, their companion's pre-prepared meals had been a divine experience, and while in the dungeon Talax had never felt hungry or disgusted.

Now, however, he had to cook for himself, as his companion's food choices were nauseating even in the best of times. Over the past two days, hunger had become his constant companion. He attempted hunting, but the pickings were slim due to the abundance of predators in the forest. On the rare occasions when he managed to catch a rabbit or a quail, cooking turned into a disaster. Nevertheless, he ate the charred and flavorless meat just to avoid fainting from weakness.

"They did look tasty," Qalo defended himself, his stomach issuing ominous protests. "I'm sure they did, buddy," Talax replied with a wry smile.

"That orc has a peculiar taste in food," remarked Aria, her voice tinged with genuine puzzlement and disgust. "Are you sure he wasn't cursed by some God? Orcs are known for their spit-roasting, it's almost a ritual for them. They're not akin to bug-eating, mud-loving folk like our friend here."

Talax chuckled at Aria's disdainful assessment. "I'm pretty certain Qalo is just that way all on his own, no..." His words trailed off as an unusual sound reached his ears, a low rumble and creak that urged him to listen more intently.

"What's wrong?" Qalo inquired, but Talax hushed him. "Someone's up ahead, I think," he murmured, eyeing his friend before asking, "Should we go check it out?"

Contemplative, Qalo seemed hesitant, but before he could respond, Aria's strong opinions barged in. "Absolutely! Scout first, then approach. More people mean less monster-watching burden for you." Talax, however, had some doubts, he couldn’t help but worry that they might come across some outlaw, or other dangerous people. Who in their right mind would traverse a monster-infested forest? Except them of course.

Reluctantly, Qalo offered, "Do you want me to go and see who's ahead?" It was obvious he wanted Talax to say no. For a moment, Talax toyed with the idea of letting him go, just to mess with him, but hearing his upset stomach, that growled like a wild beast, he decided to take pity on his friend.

"Nah, I'll go. I've got my stealth." Qalo breathed a sigh of relief as Talax set off, jogging lightly toward the source of the sound. He held off on activating his stealth until the noise grew louder and he drew closer. Blending with the shadows at the road's edge, he crept under the protective canopy of trees, moving slowly to avoid detection.

As he rounded the bend, he beheld a straight path with a small wagon clattering ahead, laden with crates and barrels. Perched atop a barrel, a small man was focused intently on something in his grasp. At the front sat an older man, whistling carefree tunes, his weathered face betraying signs of age despite being of a similar stature to his companion.

"Dwarves?" Talax mumbled to himself, prompting a quick response from Aria. "Indeed. Looks like a merchant. Not exactly the allies we hoped for, but they'll do."

Drawing closer, he strained to get a better look at the duo. The younger one at the back scarcely seemed like an adult, with a youthful face, rosy cheeks, and a perpetual smile, absorbed in fussing with a small metal contraption. He had a harder time seeing the older man, since he was looking forward. Talax could only make out a bald head and a sturdy, compact frame, his clothing straining against bulging muscles despite his small stature.

Eager to approach, he felt his stealth waver just as a big mushroom, fastened near the older man, suddenly emitted a whistle. Talax's eyebrows shot up in surprise as the man swiftly ducked under the bench, reemerging a moment later brandishing a crossbow.

The dwarf scanned the surroundings, crossbow aimed, making Talax retreat further into the shadows until the wagon had moved a safe distance away.

"Did that mushroom detect me?" Talax asked incredulously. "Seems so. I've never heard of anything like that, but Helios is vast. Still, admit it, that's pretty nifty!" Aria sounded impressed, but Talax grumbled, "Handy, yes, but not for us. It complicates things. Imagine that jumpy dwarf spotting a man in black armor and an orc."

"True, but that mushroom's an amazing discovery!" Aria chimed in with enthusiasm. Returning to Qalo, Talax recounted the encounter, and after a bit of back and forth they decided to approach the merchant.

Qalo initially hesitated, fearing trouble, an understandable concern given their recent ordeals. Yet, Talax convinced him by pointing out the chance to offload the assorted trinkets he'd collected in the dungeon. Despite losing most of the rusted, time-worn items during their many battles, which he complained about incessantly, he had managed to salvage a handful of the most promising-looking treasures.

Encouraged by that notion, Qalo consented and followed Talax with a newfound enthusiasm. However, this time they abandoned any attempt at stealth, deliberately announcing their arrival with noise. Particularly noticeable was Qalo's decision to hang his favorite pot and various cutlery around his neck like a makeshift necklace, their clattering creating a conspicuous clamor with each step he took.

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Upon reaching the wagon, the dwarves were already ready for their arrival, the loud blare of the mushroom's whistling reverberating through the forest like an alarm. The older dwarf perched atop a barrel, maintained a formidable stance, crossbow trained with unwavering determination. His weathered features bore the marks of countless travels and untold stories, etched with lines of age and hardship. Meanwhile, the younger dwarf crouched amid the crates, his posture defensive, clutching something close to his chest, his eyes darting nervously as he muttered anxiously under his breath.

Talax raised his arms in a gesture of peace, nudging Qalo to follow suit. The dwarf, however, maintained his defensive stance, scrutinizing them intently. Curious about the dwarf's appearance, Talax took a closer look.

The dwarf's stout frame seemed disproportionate to his size, as though someone had inflated his muscles with a straw. His face was devoid of hair, instead embellished with an elaborate, sprawling tattoo that traced from his forehead to the crown of his head. The intricate patterns intertwined, creating the illusion of an ornate hat, each line marking a story or an allegiance etched into his skin.

"I always thought dwarves were hairy. At least that’s what my mind thinks, even though I am pretty sure I haven’t met one before.” Talax thought to Aria, seeking clarification.

"They are, really hairy actually," she remarked disdainfully. "Dwarves, however, are categorized into two distinct groups, the surface dwarves and those who spend their entire lives beneath the earth, known as the deep dwarves. There exist more specialized classifications like hill, stone, hearthdeep, and cavecarvers dwarves, but that's a bit beside the point. Those residing on the surface are considered exiled from their kin and are forbidden to grow a beard or have hair, a significant honor among their kind. Instead, they use tattoos to signify their clan, position, or profession. Our companion here is a surface dwarf."

Talax absorbed Aria's rapid lesson on dwarf origins with keen interest. He found himself captivated by the intricate tattoo. Perhaps he should consider getting one for himself; the small insignia he received from his Voidborn wreath seemed insignificant compared to the dwarf's artwork.

"Oi! Stay back, or I'll put a bolt between your eyes!" the dwarf bellowed with a deep voice. Talax offered a faint smile at the man's unwavering resolve but cursed himself for not wearing his helmet. Wearing the metal headgear had become uncomfortable, so he had stowed it inside his bag.

"We mean no harm! We're just adventurers on our way to the cloud monasteries," Talax shouted, attempting to pacify the dwarf. However, the dwarf remained far from appeased. His gaze shifted uneasily between Qalo's tusks and Talax's gleaming armor.

"I said, stay away!" the dwarf roared, brandishing his crossbow menacingly. "We..." Before Talax could finish his plea, the dwarf loosed a crossbolt that sailed perilously close to Talax's head. He heard the sharp whistle pass by his ear, feeling the rush of air against his skin.

"Next time, I'll be aimin’ at yar head!" The man's threat stoked Talax's temper. "Okay, that man's really starting to test my patience. Any ideas on how to calm him down?" Talax asked, considering the option of circumventing the wagon and leaving the merchant behind if things escalated.

"Well, dwarves are quite fond of two things: coins and metals. Since you don't have metal to offer, ask him what he's selling. You've got plenty of gold," Aria suggested. Talax intended to follow her advice until another bolt whizzed past him.

"Will you calm the fuck down!" His words, a little too forceful, startled the agitated dwarf, causing him to accidentally release another bolt that struck Qalo's foot squarely.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! My foot, my foot!" Qalo's high-pitched cries filled the air as he hopped around on one foot, bemoaning the pain. Talax shot a furious glare at the terrified merchant before tending to his friend.

"Talax, it hurts! My pinky toe hurts so bad!" Qalo whimpered, blood seeping from his little toe through a hole in his left boot where the bolt had struck.

"You'll be okay! That's nothing," Talax tried to sound sympathetic. "A few days ago, you were battling an army of skeletons, and now you complain about a small graze?" Qalo pouted but stopped his whining.

Talax pivoted to address the merchant. "You know, I wanted this to be a civil and pleasant encounter," he said softly, taking a few steps closer. "But your pitiful excuse for a welcome leaves me no choice!" He raised his hands, imbuing them with a faint magical glow, intending only to intimidate. Witnessing the younger dwarf's terror gave him pause, but the older man's widened eyes at his magic display spurred him on.

"Master mage, I am so sorry! Please forgive my rudeness! Please, take whatever you want!" the merchant pleaded, gesturing frantically toward his goods. Talax lowered his hands, the glow dissipating.

"We're not here to rob you. We just want to talk," Talax responded evenly, trying to defuse the tension. Talax signaled for Qalo to join him as they cautiously approached the wagon. The dwarf hadn't lowered his weapon, but at least he wasn't aiming it directly at them anymore.

"Here, a token of my apology," the dwarf stated, pulling out a small vial filled with red liquid and extending it toward Qalo.

Talax inspected the potion to ensure it was indeed a health potion before redirecting his attention to the dwarf.

Name: Gormak

Health points: 400/400

Mana: 150/150

Level: 11

Race: Dwarf

Age: 51

Profession: Merchant

Class: None

Dwarves are known for their resilience and expertise in craftsmanship. They hail from the deep, mountainous regions, mastering the arts of mining and forging. Their stoutness and durability make them excellent warriors and skilled artisans, often specializing in earth-based magic and combat. Though not as versatile as humans, their unwavering determination and affinity for the underground realms grant them a unique advantage in navigating subterranean landscapes and facing challenges below the surface.

"Um, Aria, why does this man have nearly double my health points?" Talax was perplexed. As far as he knew, most people received 5 points to distribute among their attributes. Despite being five levels lower than him, the man had almost double his health.

"Some races possess special modifiers that influence their attributes. Over time, dwarves have gained a boost in their constitution, likely due to enduring extreme conditions while working underground. Researchers often study such deviations from the norm," Aria explained. Talax contemplated this, and it sounded to him something akin to evolution, being subjected to harsh environments, their bodies evolved to better deal with the hardships.

Talax observed the dwarf, who was now focused on Qalo while examining his healed toe. When the dwarf turned toward him, he bowed respectfully and said, "Master Mage, please accept my apologies! I never intended any offense, but I've been on edge since entering this godforsaken forest! We've faced constant attacks from animals, beasts, and bandits! I never recalled Greenwood Forest being so treacherous; now, I'm unsure how to return to my clan!"

The merchant appeared distressed momentarily before a strange gleam entered his eyes. "If I may, fellow travelers, where are you headed?" Talax looked at the dwarf and seeing his happy face, he immediately picked up on where this was heading.

"To the cloud monasteries," Talax replied, arching an eyebrow, waiting for the dwarf's proposal. "Tychos smiles upon me! I'm bound for Old Foxly; we're headed in the same direction! How about we travel together? With a master mage and a master orc at our side, my boy and I will be in safe hands! And of course, for your services, you'll be duly compensated! You'll receive a 2% discount on all my wares!"

Talax chuckled at the expected offer and the generous discount. "Really?" Qalo chimed in. "Will you be buying as well? I have some items that might interest you." Talax watched as the two men's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a good bargain.

As they negotiated, Talax noticed a face peeking up among the crates, a round face with empty eyes and a disturbing smile. Feeling a sudden unease, Talax stumbled backward as the young dwarf came impossibly close to his face, repeating, "Patch? Patch? Patch?" There was a vacant and unsettling lack of intelligence or emotion behind the boy's expression.

"Patch?" Talax was perplexed, attempting to analyze the boy when Aria's voice, filled with shock, cut through.

"Talax! The boy... He's different. He's... he's Godtouched!"