A few days after they left the settlement they met with the rest of the expedition and continued their journey to the outpost. The caravan was a sight to behold— Rangers, Builders, and Laborers, all under the banner of the Dwarven rangers. All to rebuild and garrison the outpost. The rumble of wagon wheels on the dirt road echoed through the air as they made their march, accompanied by the steady trudging of the pack animals, oxen and the occasional barking of the dire wolves.

Garrok drove his wagon in the middle of the caravan, accompanied by Tink, the gnomish engineer, who is perched atop the canvas cover. The two friends exchanged words, more of Tink making observations and Garrok just nodding along to whatever she says.

She tells him that based on the reports of the scouts who initially surveyed the site, a stone blockhouse is all that's left of the old outpost. The plan is to repair and fortify the blockhouse as a citadel. Around it they would build walls, towers, a barracks and an underground mushroom farm.

“What do you need a mushroom farm for?” He asked curiously.

One of the nearby rangers answered his question.

"Ah, lad, the mushroom farm serves more than one purpose," he explained. "Firstly, in the event of a siege, having a source of provisions within the outpost ensures that the defenders won't starve. Secondly, we can trade the excess mushrooms for funding and supplies. But most importantly," he added with a mischievous grin, "it's so we can brew mushroom ale. No proper dwarven outpost is complete without an alehouse, you see."

Garrok hummed and grinned at the ranger's explanation. The Dwarven penchant for ales and celebration was legendary, and it seemed that even this far in the frontier, they embraces their traditions.

As they made their way across the vast expanse of the wilderness, the landscape gradually transformed. Rolling hills gave way to dense forests, where ancient trees towered above them, casting long shadows on the forest floor. The scent of pine filled the air, and the occasional chirping of birds provided a soothing soundtrack to their journey.

Even though Garrok spent years living in the wilds, he can’t help but be impressed with the skills and resourcefulness of the scouts and hunters. They ventured into the unknown, pushing through dense forests and traversing treacherous terrain, all in the name of securing a safe path for the rest of the caravan.

Not only did the scouts and hunters ensure the safety of the expedition, but they also played a vital role in sustaining the group. With their skills in hunting, they provided fresh game, ensuring that the expedition had enough sustenance during their journey.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Days turned into weeks as the caravan pressed on, overcoming various challenges along the way. They navigated treacherous mountain passes, crossed roaring rivers, and weathered fierce storms.

Garrok managed to finds a way to provide his services, as one night he was approached by one of the rangers.

“Hail Master Smith!”

Garrok looked up from where he was repairing his pistol’s damaged spring, a consequence of using it as a club.

“The name’s Thorvald Ironheart, Seargeant of the scouts.”

The Dwarf was 1.4 meters tall, with a skin of light bronze. He has thick coarse black hair and a well-groomed beard. Like many of his race he has a square jaw, prominent cheekbones, and thick, bushy eyebrows that meet in the middle, his nose is broad and slightly upturned. His eyes are a shade of brown, with a keen and perceptive glint.

He wears a green cloak with the hood down. A thick brown tunic with a black leather cuirass, belted with a pouch full of shot, and a powder horn. A vambrace on his left arm, Brown trousers and sturdy boots to complete his ensemble.

“Well met Seargeant, how may I be of service?” Garrok greets back.

Ironheart grins…

“I was there during the Bandit raid, and saw you in action. Quite the performance you did, especially for someone of Gron'kul Blud.”

Orc-blooded Garrok translates internally

Ironheart continues…

“That queer long-gun of yours, is it true you made it yourself?”

Garrok reaches for his rifle and presents it to Ironheart for inspection.

“That I did.”

Ironheart spends a few minutes inspecting the rifle. Garrok pulls out one of his paper cartridges to show Ironheart.

“Fascinating, this is how you load so quickly? Can you make some for my use?”

Garrok thinks about it.

“I might if you showed me your weapon.”

Ironheart nods, he returns the rifle and leaves. He comes back with a long-gun and presents it to Garrok. He studies it, like all long-guns the rangers use, this was a custom-made rifle based on their specific requirements.

“I named her Long claw.”

It was 54 inches long from barrel to stock. The barrel was 42 inches, the stock 12 inches long. The flintlock mechanism looks of the standard make, except for the Frizzen, which had groves on the rear, probably to help create sparks. With the stock set on the ground this would easily be almost as tall as Ironheart.

“I requested the Master Gunsmiths to make me a long-gun of unparalleled range and precision, and this is what they made.” He boasts with pride.

“Unfortunately, it takes a while to load due to how long it is, if I’m lucky I’m able to fire two shots a minute. Can you make me some of those papered loads of yours?”

Garrok replies;

“Yes, I could, if you would show me how much grain of powder you would use for Long claw.”

A bargain was struck that night, and Garrok found himself a regular customer. Word spread among the other rangers and soon more Rangers approached him, showing their weapons and humbly asking the “Master Smith” if he could make them some “papered loads” for their guns. Since each gun was a custom-made weapon, he had an excuse to study each weapon, and measure the required grain for each gun. He was flattered being addressed by the dwarves as “Master smith”, in their culture, talented smiths are honored.

Eventually with the number of orders he received he decided to hire Tink to help with the work load. All in all, it’s been a very lucrative trip.