One of the oddest people to visit were dwarves. They often paid in real coin, but for the ale they seemed to insist on giving her things they found useful. This garnered her an odd assortment of tools, herbs, and even clay.

The clay they gave her was just small balls, though Cilvic claimed it was beautiful, he admitted he had no idea how to turn it into anything practical. It began collecting in the cellar in a barrel with some sludge-like liquid Cilvic claimed was water.

When it turned into a ball larger than her own head, Kaitlyn decided to ask one of the dwarves why it was supposed to be so valuable. One of her semi-regular patron was a dwarf with extremely elaborate braids in a beautiful blue-black beard with a variety of gold clips and winking gems. Kaitlyn had been warned dwarves of both genders grew beards, so she wasn’t sure whether this particular dwarf was male or female.

The dwarf set a lump of the clay on the table the size of Kaitlyn’s fist. Kaitlyn put down a tankard and then sat down and said, “You can have it for free if you will answer a question for me.”

The dwarf eyed her and then said, “Can I hear the question before I agree to this deal?”

“Of course,” Kaitlyn said, “the brownie who helps me tells me this clay is of great quality, but… what am I to do with it?”

The dwarf huffed a laugh and then said, “My name is Bowounelyn Bonesword, please call me Bow.”

“Thank you Bow,” Kaitlyn said with a tip of her head.

Bow nodded and then picked up the ball from the table, “This clay is gathered carefully and processed before we bring it out into the world. It can create dishes, cooking tools, cups and other things at half the weight of normal clay with twice the strength. It is soft while it is being worked and although those that use it tell me it is the most difficult clay to work with, the items it makes are beautiful and strong.”

Kaitlyn was impressed by this, but had to admit, “But I have no idea how to use the clay at all, I’ve been accepting it, but honestly I’m not sure if I can continue since I can’t use it.”

“Your brownie is not using it?” the dwarf looked surprised. “You mentioned you have brownies working for you.”

“One brownie, and he works most with wood and the garden,” Kaitlyn said.

“You should get more brownies around here,” the dwarf said emphatically. “Brownies love working with witches and finding one who knows how to work with porcelain should not be terribly difficult. You can then replace these crass wooden mugs with something more refined and beautiful.”

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Kaitlyn bristled a little at the insult to Cilvic’s work. She found her mouth running away with her, “I will not hear anything negative about these tankards, they are difficult to break, carved by hand, and sanded carefully to make them. He does an excellent job with everything he touches…”

The dwarf held up a hand and guffawed a little. With a shake of the head the dwarf said, “They are great for this little outdoor rustic look, but if you ever want to serve that delicious food for a higher price, you will need to improve the decor.”

Kaitlyn took a deep breath and looked around her yard, trying to imagine what the dwarf was seeing with an open mind. The yard was so improved over the months sometimes she forgot just how bare it still was. The plants were finally being contained and managed, no longer looking like a little jungle.

The well stood in the center of the yard. Cilvic had replaced some of the rocks around it to shore up the walls, but it was still pretty run down. They had taken down the rotting beams and roof over the well, making it look even shorter.

The path was just worn dirt where people tended to walk, and despite her best efforts the grass and flowers she attempted to grow kept dying in patches which made the yard look worse rather than better. Looking at it with this critical eye, she wondered if she should just rake dirt across the entire yard instead of trying to grow anything in the front.

The house itself no longer had holes, but the wooden walls were covered with vines and moss, even the roof looked in a condition that it was about to collapse. The tiles were covered with a mossy look in clumps and bunches. Kaitlyn frowned and put her hands in her lap.

“I don’t mean to insult, I have been told you inherited this place as it was literally falling apart and on that you have made much progress,” the dwarf said, “but some of my people hope to see further improvements. You are a witch, finding a brownie should not be difficult for you. I’m rather surprised you say you only have the one.”

The dwarf quaffed the ale and stood, leaving the clay behind as they left. Kaitlyn watched and then went back to the garden and asked Cilvic, “Should I have more brownies helping out? Are you unhappy here?”

“Unhappy?” Cilvic looked shocked. “You know brownies are happiest when working, right? There is always work here.”

“A dwarf just told me I should have more brownies working here,” Kaitlyn said quietly.

Cilvic made a slightly rude noise in his nose and said, “Dwarves don’t like what they call menial labor, building or gardening or cooking, so the fact you do any of these things yourself is something they would disdain.”

“Then how do they build and get food?”

“Trade as much as possible,” Cilvic replied, “They dig up gems. Some of us joke they can smell the stuff in the earth. Blacksmiths are considered honorable work and ironically, digging is a great profession. But a cook? An animal tender? A tailor? These are for the lowest of the low.”

“They don’t value this work?” Kaitlyn asked.

“Oh they value it some, but it isn’t good dwarf work,” Cilvic explained. “They ain’t all wrong, another brownie or two would be handy here.”

“But I don’t have a place for you, much less any others,” Kaitlyn said.

“Yeah, but we can make our own place and we don’t need much space,” Cilvic replied. “If you like, I can send out a message, see if anyone wants to help.”

“No, not right now,” Kaitlyn said. “I’ll see if I can trade this clay for now. Maybe someday, but I don’t think…. the house still has so much magic I haven’t figured out. Let’s wait.”

“As you like mistress,” Cilvic nodded.