Chapter 10: The Misfit Dwarf
Amuro nodded, his face etched with pain. "That's right. Our Ironfoot clan is one of the survivors from that time. But this village was formed only after our clan splintered several times."
The dwarven race was truly fragmented. It seemed the blow of their kingdom's destruction still lingered to this day.
"So you're saying the Dwarven Kingdom was destroyed by the Demon race?"
"Aye!"
Amuro had been just a child then, but the scene was still burned into his memory. A massive magic circle enveloping the entire dwarven capital, countless magical beasts pouring forth from it. Even with the city's vast garrison of elite dwarven warriors, they couldn't hold back the tide of monsters, especially with the Demon race commanding them from behind. From that day forward, the Dwarven Kingdom vanished from the world.
And from that day, magical beasts and demons became the common enemy of all living creatures on the continent.
At the thought, Amuro slammed his mug down on the table, splashing murky ale everywhere. "The most bitter irony... is that the source of power for the magic circle those demons used was an ancient holy relic we dwarves had unearthed ourselves!"
The dwarves' greed for gold and jewels had driven them to dig deeper and deeper into the earth, until they had unearthed an ancient relic. At the time, the dwarves had been ecstatic. They never imagined it would be the very instrument of their destruction.
Hmm... this plot sounds a bit familiar, Rhodes thought. I wonder if the Arkenstone exists here?
"What was this holy relic?" Rhodes pressed.
"A red stone slab."
Serie suddenly cut in. "Where is that slab now?"
Amuro shook his head. "It disappeared the night the kingdom fell. It might be somewhere in the ruins of the Dwarven Kingdom. In any case, that pack of demons never got their hands on it."
Rhodes didn't understand why Serie had suddenly spoken up. He glanced at her, but she had fallen silent again, clearly having no intention of saying more. It looked like he would have to wait until they were alone to ask.
"Master Rhodes, I have an audacious request."
Amuro turned to Rhodes. Through his observations, he had noticed that Rhodes seemed to be the one who handled most of the social interactions between the pair. Serie rarely bothered with such things. The arrival of these two travelers in his village felt like a sign from the gods.
"Go ahead," Rhodes said, "but I must be clear. We are but simple travelers. You cannot expect too much from us."
Seeing as the dwarven ale was quite good, Rhodes didn't mind agreeing to some small, insignificant request. Besides, this dwarven settlement was quite advanced. The various silk fabrics and full sets of armor were a clear testament to their impressive craftsmanship. He would have to procure some before they left, at least a few blankets to save him from sleeping on the hard ground every night.
"I would like you to spar with my son."
Amuro's request caught Rhodes completely off guard. Even Serie looked up from her water.
"Why?"
"That rebellious whelp is always talking about leaving to go on an adventure. I want you to crush that ridiculous notion out of him."
On this topic, Amuro could barely contain his anger. Having been an adventurer himself, he knew just how dangerous the outside world was. His unfilial son was still a child of only forty. How could he possibly let him run off on some foolish adventure? He needed these travelers to show his son the harsh reality of the gap in their strength.
In truth, Amuro could guess the real reason his son, Somme, wanted to leave. Unlike other dwarves, his son was an outcast among his own people. Alcohol gave him headaches, making him an exile from every village feast. His skill at the forge was mediocre at best. Instead, he had immersed himself in weaving, a craft considered insufficiently "manly." In Amuro's village, there was no real distinction between male and female dwarves; dwarven women also donned armor and fought on the front lines. But Amuro could not accept his son's penchant for such a craft. And, most importantly... his son couldn't grow a beard.
Could a beardless dwarf even be called a dwarf? Wouldn't that just make him one of those ugly goblins? Because of this, his son had been an outcast since childhood. That was why he harbored this desire to go adventuring.
Headaches from drinking, huh? Could it be an alcohol allergy? And no beard... that really doesn't seem very dwarven. In a village where even the female dwarves had beards, this Somme was indeed an oddity. It was like a Sphynx cat trying to mingle with a clowder of fluffy kittens; he was bound to get hissed at.
"What do you think, Serie?"
A sparring match would obviously require Serie's participation. Rhodes was well aware of his own current limitations.
"I will do it."
An opportunity for a fight was something Serie would never refuse.
"In that case, let's go. Lead the way to your son."
Amuro led them to a house. A few moments after he knocked, a figure emerged.
Rhodes had never thought he would use the word "handsome" to describe a dwarf, but the dwarf before him truly deserved the description. Could the absence of a beard really have such a dramatic effect on a dwarf's appearance?
For his part, Somme's eyes immediately fell on Rhodes and Serie. He had been on the front lines during the monster attack earlier that day, but he had been wearing a full suit of armor and a helmet, so Rhodes hadn't noticed him.
"Old man, shouldn't you be with our honored guests at the feast? What are you doing here?"
Amuro's face was grim. "Somme, you've always wanted to go on an adventure, haven't you? If you can defeat these two, I will grant you my permission."
Somme's eyes instantly lit up. "Really?" he looked eagerly at Rhodes and Serie. "Then watch me!"
His confidence was so absolute that Rhodes had to stifle a laugh. Serie merely looked at him and said flatly, "Interesting."
Somme excitedly rushed back into his house and re-emerged a moment later carrying a peculiar-looking long-handled battle-axe. Rhodes noticed that the axe's blade was covered in intricate carvings. It looked less like a weapon and more like a work of art.
Naturally, Somme hadn't forged such a masterful weapon himself. It was a creation of his father's, his most prized work, one that had accompanied him through many battles and was now passed down to his son.
Serie examined the engravings on the axe. "Dwarves cannot use magic, but they possess the most formidable forging skills. They engrave magic onto their weapons in the form of runes, allowing their creations to possess certain magical effects." She was, of course, explaining this for Rhodes's benefit, knowing he would be unaware.
"Magic enchantments, huh? Quite interesting. I wonder if I could learn to do that?"
"I'm afraid not." Since they weren't speaking privately, Amuro overheard Rhodes's musing. "The forging techniques of the dwarves cannot be learned by other races. The same goes for these magic runes."