My team and Blue Rose stood before the Dwarven Council, inside a vast stone hall carved straight from the mountain's heart.
A semicircle of elderly dwarves sat on raised thrones of basalt and gold, each robed in thick ceremonial garb and wearing the long, braided beards that symbolized their age and wisdom.
Their expressions varied—from cautious curiosity to outright skepticism. They were the ruling elders of Feo Berkana, custodians of its laws, and survivors of countless Quagoa raids.
At the center of the council sat the High Thane, his beard snow-white and decorated with silver bands shaped like hammers and shields.
His eyes were sharp, narrowed at our group like a jeweler inspecting an unfamiliar gem.
Blue Rose stood tall at the front. Lakyus, composed and dignified, did most of the talking. "We come as allies from the Re-Estize Kingdom, not as invaders. With us is Gondo Firebeard, who can vouch for our intentions and guide our cooperation. We offer aid against the Quagoa threat."
Gondo stepped forward, bowing slightly to the council. "Aye, I brought them. And I stake my beard and name on their honor. Without their help, I doubt I'd be standing here now. They saved me on the mountain path—saved all of us."
The council murmured, beards shifting as they leaned to whisper amongst themselves.
One dwarf, broader than the others, leaned forward with a skeptical scowl. "Words are easy, Firebeard. But bringing outsiders into our mountain? Elves and humans? Even... whatever he is?" He motioned toward me, his tone vaguely accusing.
I didn't react, nor did I take offense. I was used to that gaze—the wary stare of those who could sense something off about me. My aura was cloaked, my power hidden, but a predator knows another predator when it sees one.
Clementine, beside me, let out a quiet snort, clearly amused by the tension.
"I understand your caution," Lakyus continued calmly. "But our actions speak louder than words. My group, along with our companions, helped clear a Quagoa ambush not far from here. Without us, their scouts would still be watching this city from the cliffs."
"And we've all seen the corpses outside the fortress walls," added Evileye, her red eyes glowing faintly under her hood. "Unless your soldiers now burn enemies to ash with pure magic, I suggest some gratitude would be appropriate."
Her words made a few of the dwarves bristle, but one near the High Thane actually chuckled. "Bold. I like her."
The High Thane raised a hand, and silence fell again.
"We do not take kindness lightly, nor strength for granted," he said. "The Quagoa have taken much from us. Kin. Mines. Pride. If you have truly aided in their defeat, then we are grateful… You have aided us, and thus, we owe you a reward. Speak your desires."
Gagaran stepped forward first, her voice loud and clear. "I want armor. Not just any armor—I want the best your smiths can forge."
That caused a small stir among the elders.
"Custom dwarven armor is no small ask," one of them said, stroking his beard.
"Neither is taking on the Quagoa without flinching," Gagaran replied with a wide grin.
Lakyus gave her a look, but didn't argue. The council recorded her request, and then moved down the line.
Tia and Tina both asked for enchanted daggers crafted by dwarven hands—lightweight, sharp, and durable.
Lakyus requested access to dwarven tomes, ancient books and lost enchantments, something only a seasoned magic user would care about.
Evileye didn't ask for much—only a vial of a rare alchemical reagent dwarves kept sealed deep in their vaults.
Then it was our turn.
Clementine stepped up without hesitation. "A new pair of stilettos," she said casually, like she was ordering lunch.
There was a pause.
The dwarf recording the requests blinked. "...Stilettos?"
She raised her foot slightly to show off her current blades. "Yeah. I already have a pair, but I want another. Maybe a little longer this time. Something wicked."
I looked at her, bewildered. "You already have stilettos. Why do you need more?"
She turned to me with a grin. "Same reason you collect spells. Redundancy."
I wanted to argue, but... she had a point. Sort of.
Next was Solution.
"Gold," she said simply, her voice as smooth as ever. "Pure and in weight."
The dwarf nodded, jotting it down without questioning it. Of course. Money was simple.
I followed suit. "Same for me," I said. "Gold."
Blue Rose gave me a sideways glance.
"You're passing up custom gear from dwarves?" Lakyus asked, surprised. "That's rare craftsmanship. Even nobles in the capital would sell their titles to get a single dwarven-forged blade."
I shrugged. "Gold buys what I need. And besides... I don't like waiting."
In truth, I didn't need any dwarven trinkets. Not when I could make things better with Nazarick's resources—or rather, improve them through experimentation like Death suggested. The idea of rune-engraved flesh was still simmering in the back of my mind, and none of these dwarves would appreciate the direction I planned to take the craft.
Evileye crossed her arms and tilted her head. "You don't strike me as someone short on wealth."
"I'm not," I replied. "But you can never have too much."
The High Thane looked over the list, nodding slowly. "These requests will be fulfilled. It may take time, especially for the armor and weapons, but the forges of Feo Berkana shall honor their debts."
~~~
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