The morning mist enveloped the landscape, adding a touch of mystery to this new stage of my quest. After gaining the trust of the dryads, I made my way towards the northern mountains, where the dwarves resided, a people known for their craftsmanship and legendary resilience.
The steep paths winding along the mountainside were narrow and treacherous, but I made progress with caution, holding firmly onto the rocky wall to avoid tumbling into the deep abysses on either side. The deep valleys and steep ravines presented additional challenges on my path. Precarious rope bridges were suspended over dizzying precipices, demanding a precarious balance to cross them. I felt a surge of adrenaline with every step I took, aware of the danger that surrounded me.
Despite the difficulties, I felt the excitement growing within me. I took solace in the thought of their warm welcome and the valuable assistance they could provide in my quest.
As I progressed, I spotted traces of dwarven activity. Intricate and detailed sculptures adorned the rocky walls, showcasing the dwarves' artistic talent. Bright lights emanated from the mountain crevices, revealing the active forges where the dwarves crafted legendary weapons and armor.
Each step I took in the mountains was a blend of intense physical effort and contemplation of the wild beauty of the landscape. The snow-covered peaks sparkled under the sun's rays, offering breathtaking panoramas. Frozen waterfalls cascaded down the rocky cliffs, creating soothing melodies that mingled with the whispers of the wind.
I would sometimes pause to rest, taking shelter in natural caves or sitting on rocks to catch my breath. The fresh and pure air revitalized me, and with gratitude, I contemplated the path traveled and the one that still lay ahead.
Upon reaching the dwarven village, I was immediately struck by the bustling activity that filled the air. Forges crackled, hammers resounded, and the laughter of the dwarves filled the atmosphere. The buildings were hewn from the rock, sturdy and adorned with intricate sculptures.
I made my way to the main forge, the air is thick and heavy with the smell of smoke, charcoal and molten metal. Roaring flames leap from braziers and blast furnaces, creating an intense and hot atmosphere. The walls of the forge are covered with deposits of soot, testimony to the many hours of hard work.
A massive dwarf, sporting a fiery beard and muscular arms, toiled in front of the anvil. According to the sign at the entrance, his name was Gromaron, a renowned master blacksmith of the tribe, also serving as the village chief.
"Who dares disturb my forge?" he growled in a thunderous voice as he saw me approaching.
"I am Riko, a goblin friend of the dryads," I replied confidently. "I have come seeking the aid of the dwarves in my quest to unite the peoples and preserve the balance of this world."
Gromaron regarded me skeptically, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of my being. Dwarves had a natural aversion to goblins, but I knew I had to overcome this prejudice to gain their support.
"Challenge me, goblin," he thundered, wielding his hammer with authority. "If you are worthy of our aid, prove it on the battlefield."
I knew the dwarves prided themselves on their courage and combat prowess. Without hesitation, I accepted his challenge, grasping a blade from the workbench. I had never fought with a real sword my dagger experience had to be enough.
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Subsequently, Gromaron took me to the training ground of the dwarven village. Surrounded by majestic rock walls, the area provides a natural environment conducive to physical training and improving the skills of the dwarves.
The ground of the area is covered in a mixture of compacted soil and gravel, providing good grip and the necessary stability for combat exercises and weapon handling. Clear streams meander through the area, adding a touch of freshness and tranquility to the atmosphere.
A few curious heads approached the arena, dwarven men of the same stature as Gromaron. They quickly understood the situation and began to encourage their leader by clapping their hands loudly.
The duel commenced, and the echo of clashing swords resounded throughout the forge. Gromaron advanced with power, his movements heavy and calculated. His expertly forged blade cut through the air with impressive force. I moved with agility, evading his attacks with surprising swiftness.
entity_[player]_detected_
*recalculation_of_statistics_in_progress*
|goblin_dexterity|_unlocked_
|strength|+5_
|speed|+5_
|resistance|+5_
|accuracy|+5_
The metallic sound of the clashes intensified, creating a brutal symphony of combat. Sparks flew every time our swords met, illuminating the forge with a radiant glow. The ground trembled beneath our feet, bearing witness to the power of our clashes.
Drawing upon my goblin dexterity, I anticipated Gromaron's movements with near-supernatural precision. I found openings in his defense and countered with precise and swift strikes. Each time my blade grazed his guard, a hopeful smile formed on my face.
Gromaron, on the other hand, displayed unwavering determination. His fiery beard mingled with the sweat of exertion, and his eyes gleamed with fierce intensity. He possessed the strength of a titan, and his technique was flawless. But I was resolved to prove my worth and earn the respect of the dwarves.
Time passed, and the spectators, captivated by our confrontation, held their breaths. With tense muscles, we clashed with increasing ferocity. Each movement was calculated, each attack measured. The battle was a deadly ballet, where speed and precision dictated our fate.
...
|thrust|_unlock_
//temporary_boosted_effect_disarmament_
|fencing|_boosted_max
Finally, after an exhausting exchange of blows, I had an opportunity to deliver a decisive strike. With a swift movement, I dodged one of Gromaron's attacks, maneuvered around his guard, and delivered a powerful kick to his sword-arm. The impact made him release his grip, and his blade fell loudly to the forge floor.
Silence fell upon the room as the dwarves watched the scene with astonishment. I had managed to disarm the renowned master blacksmith, Gromaron. Disbelieving gazes settled upon me, and hope ignited in the eyes of the dwarves present.
Gromaron catching his breath, displayed an admiring smile. He raised his hands in a sign of respect and acceptance of my victory.
"Riko the goblin, you have proven your worth," he declared in a grave voice. "Dwarves are known to honor their promises. We will offer our support in your quest."
The dwarves then erupted in applause, filling the arena with their cheers. I was overcome with a mixture of exhaustion and euphoria. I was proud of this unsuspected power in me. I had gained the trust and respect of Gromaron and his tribe.
|to_be_continued...|