Chapter 105: As Below, Tis Above

  DURN

  Durn Gendov Marble was not an old dwarf, yet, but neither was she young.

  Marble dwarves were rare, with how far away the only known source of marble was, but she was proud of her ancestry. That very rarity made her talents unique, and she often thanked her parents for choosing such a wondrous stone for her. Her ability to shape stone was almost magical… and further enhanced by her luck at being one of the rare casters in the Darksea Kindom.

  Ironically, the feature of being a marbleborn that was most important now was the one that most of her kind considered the one downside of the pale stone.

  Unlike the sharply-defined features of many of her kin, Durn’s body had a smoothness to it, and a fair paleness to the skin that few could match. It was apparently more aesthetically pleasing to the elves than the other types. When coupled with her magical talent, she had a much easier time talking to them than most dwarves.

  It also helped that she had introduced herself as a female. Not that she was – dwarves didn’t really care about that or even refer to themselves as one or the other – but for some reason the elves liked that, and she’d been warned about that before introducing herself.

  If she’d known how boring this would be, she wouldn’t have bothered to agree to do it.

  “We apologize for waiting so long, our visitor had some trouble with the wagon,” the elf nearby said, trying to be polite. Her tail was twitching and she shuffled her feet lightly, so Durn could tell she was new at this. Most elves had trouble adapting to dwarves… supposedly, they thought dwarves smelled strange. Durn’s scent was less extreme than most – another reason she had been chosen to be a liaison – but it was still obvious to her that they could detect it.

  This didn’t offend her. They were trying not to show it, at least.

  “What sort of thing called me up out of the ground today?” Durn asked, trying to put something of a pleasant tone in her voice. It was hard for her to do, and she couldn’t help stroking her beard to soothe herself. Her voice was softer than most dwarves, but one of the more honest elves had described it as ‘like gargling sand instead of gravel’.

  The elf led her out of the small room she had been waiting in, but had made an odd gesture instead of answering. Durn wasn’t sure what the gesture meant, but she presumed it was supposed to be something like ‘come see for yourself’ or the like. Elves were strange like that. Also strange how these were so overwhelmingly female.

  Durn had been told that wasn’t the case elsewhere, just in this spot, but she hadn’t paid attention to the reason. Until recently, she’d believed the same as all the other dwarves: no creature that had dimorphic sexes could be intelligent. Before they’d met the elves, only the mushroom people had demonstrated intelligence – even if they had made it very clear they weren’t interested in conversation. Different sexes were a thing for lower animals like the cave crawlers.

  Navigating these surface-dweller beliefs and assumptions was taxing on her health, truth be told.

  She came to the edge of the elf settlement, where a wagon was outside being unloaded. A small flicker of impatience welled up within her chest… these elves were about the same height as her, but frail and sickly-looking creatures. The large box three of them struggled with could have been hauled by her alone with ease, she was sure.

  It wasn’t even a very nice box. The corners could be more rounded, the soft material inlaid or carved. It was polished, at least, but everything the elves did seemed far more utilitarian than she was used to. It didn’t have the love of the craft put into it, not like a dwarf.

  “Greetings, Lady Durn.” An unfamiliar elf walked toward Durn, speaking elvish but with that tickle of knowledge that let her understand. More magic, one of the things that these elves were far more competent at than she cared to admit. The new elf continued speaking. “I apologize for the sudden call, but a great need has come up in our land, far away from these mountains. We have heard your skill for creating items of metal is unmatched.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Flattery. Durn was familiar with the concept, but she held her tongue while she stroked her beard again, considering how to word her reply. Being blunt is unlikely to be what this one wanted, so best to accept the flattery.

  “We know of many metals that we have not seen the elves work,” she finally answered. No need to follow up until she knew more.

  Apparently that was not what the elf wanted. She – Durn was reasonably sure this one was also female – hesitated as if waiting for more, then turned to gesture at the box.

  “We would like to trade for a metal that can create weapons that can penetrate this,” she declared. Durn was grateful that the elf had stopped being evasive. The question also made her curious, though. She’d seen some of the monsters the elves fought up here. Plenty of them would be handled easier with better armaments, but they used their magic for most, and their crystal spear heads usually pierced armored hide just as well as any alloy.

  The box opened to reveal a corpse, one not too much smaller than an elf. Some crawling critter… Durn recognized it as similar to one she knew from the caves, but this one was larger and sported grasping hand. The armored shell upon its back was familiar to her, and she wondered why they needed metal. The magic of the elves should handle something like that easily.

  She grunted, “Yes. We have a similar creature in the depths. Some of our work can pierce it more easily than what you have.” She stroked her beard some more and looked around at the elves. “You were not this interested in trade before. What is it about these creatures your vaunted magic cannot handle?”

  It was one of the other outsiders from the camp who had come on the wagon that answered. “We can, and they are not so strong.” This elf tapped the box with a toe. “But they come in waves of many. Too many to fight off without exhausting ourselves with too much magic.”

  Great numbers of these could do that, Durn realized. She grunted, her version of acknowledging what was said, and considered the corpse. The question of being able to make the tools to penetrate that shell was easy. How much they could afford to divert to doing so… trickier.

  She looked up again. “We could trade. I would have to talk to the smiths to see what they can create. We have had to make more weapons of our own. Some trouble beneath.”

  The elves all looked to one another, and the local one – Durn thought her name was ‘Any’ or something weird like that – spoke up.

  “Are you encountering areas that speak of something wrong, and have more powerful monsters within?” The elf’s hands moved, as did her tail, making some gestures for emphasis. Durn still hadn’t learned what body language meant what emphasis, but she could tell she was trying to make it more important of a question somehow.

  Durn grunted. “Yes. Difficult to fight.” She wouldn’t admit it, but dwarves with classes for fighting were relatively rare in her Kindom. The problem had caused a bit of a crisis, wondering if they should negotiate with the nearby Blackrock Kindom to request some aid.

  But if the elves already knew how to handle them… perhaps there was more for them to trade than she had originally thought.

  “I will speak to the others,” she said aloud. “The box. Can I take it?” Having something like that to show her superiors and the smiths would make it easier to figure out what kind of weapons would work best with it. Durn was a stonecarver in her spare time, she knew little about metals and their properties.

  “Of course,” the elf who had brought the box replied. She stepped away from it and added, “The magic of the box will keep it cold for three more days.”

  Days. Durn mentally calculated how long that was with her own timekeeping system, then gave another grunt to let the elf know she’d understood. At first, the helpers started to lift it, but she waved them away and hefted the box herself, balanced upon one shoulder. It wasn’t light, but this was easy for her.

  “I will return.”

  The stocky dwarf carried the box away easily, leaving Kalla, the merchant, watching with a nervous sway of her tail. “Is she normally so… rough?”

  “Durn is one of the gentler dwarves,” Annya answered. The attendant flit her ears in amusement, her eyes sparkling at Kalla’s reaction. Of course the Sisterhood would be more used to the brusque attitude of the dwarf, but it was Kalla’s first time seeing the new species. She thought she’d done very well to keep her composure.

  “It sounds as if they have a dungeon there, as well,” one of the handlers noted, watching the dwarf lumber off. “Does she normally play with her hair like that?”

  Annya looked after Durn thoughtfully. “It does. And yes, she does. All dwarves have that strange hair on their face. I think they decorate it to show their achievements. I’m not sure.” Her tail swayed a few times. “I’ve never seen one of these dungeons, but we’ve been hearing more about them. I hope they don’t show up here, though.”

  Kalla flicked an ear to dismiss the thought. “I’ve never heard of one showing up in a city or village. There’s one a few days travel from a small village, but that’s as close as I’ve heard.”

  She turned to look down the mountainside, past the gates and toward the dirt track that she’d taken the wagon up. “I wondered about why they were suddenly building more roads out toward this place, but now we need these materials. Your choice of sister to put this in motion was a good one. I am surprised she was able to convince so many people.”

  The quiet behind Kalla was unexpected, and she looked over her shoulder to see if Annya was still there. The Aravel had her head tilted, one ear fluttering quizzically.

  “What do you mean?” Annya blinked those glowing green eyes of hers. “They are building roads out here? Our sister? We never sent anyone out to do anything.”

  Kalla’s tail paused, but she just splayed ears. “Oh, never mind.”

  How curious.

  System Properties