Hearth Fire

After breakfast the three dwarves came up with a plan for the day. Bauru was going to go hunting, and come back down through the stables. Bauru said his farewells and left. That left Rugiel and Stronric alone in the hold with their plans on going down to the smithy. They proceeded to the smithy, pausing only to ensure no enemies took it since they were last there. As they approached the door, the stench of decaying flesh lofted through the tunnel.

“We need to strip the dead of anything useful, being metal or tools. Then we’ll take the bodies up to get rid of them.” Stronric said pausing before opening the door.

Stronric pushed the door open and a wall of stench overtook them. He turned to watch Rugiel. She gagged once, before noticing his eyes on her. She lifted her chin, determination in her eyes, and walked into the room. They made three piles, one was simple trash items, the second was metal that could be melted down, the third was treasures. Stronric called Beatrice and her horde of goats to help take the bodies up and out of the Smithy. On the return passes they brought buckets of water from the pools to wash the gore from the ground. Hours passed before the Smithy passed Stronric’s inspection and they turned back to the room.

Stronric was no longer shocked when he learned how un-dwarf like the siblings were. So he was unsurprised to see Rugiel’s eye-roll when he asked if she ever worked a smithy. He simply shrugged and began to teach her.

“Now see here lass this is a forge.” Stronric said dumbly with an edge of a smile on his face.

Rugiel just stared at him with a slightly annoyed look on her face. She huffed and raised her chin not raising to the bait.

Stronric started with the basics. Explaining the key tools and functions as he walked around the area pointing. He showed her how to light the forge and how the bellows used air to increase the heat and relight a dying fire. Rugiel watched him with an intense look in her eyes as she took in the information. The last of his instructions ended at the anvil. The worn and rugged smithing hammer laid across it. Rugiel reached out, her hand hovering just above the handle. Her features went rigid and her face was blank as if she as in a trance.

“Hey!” Stronic snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Ye following along?”

With a jump, Rugiel shook her head, clearing away what ever had overtaken her. She took to the forge like she was born to work a smithy. Stronric never had to repeat instructions or show her a technique again. The forges fire was blazing hot. Soon the room was stifling, sweat started to bead on Stronric’s brow as he removed his shirt. Rugiel stared at Stronric. Stronric was covered in heavy muscles, scars and tattoos. His tattoos started at his collar bones and wound down his arms and across his chest and back. They were traditional dwarf style, all straight lines, squared edges, and perfect curves. The mix of deep blues, greens and blacks created depth and dimension in the simple designs. In the center of his stomach a large dwarven knot expanded nearly across his torso. His shoulders each were covered in a different knot made of rune circles. Scars littered his frame. Some hidden among the ink only seen as raised marks. Others gouged the tattoo creating breaks in the solid lines. Some scars had been inked back over in attempt to reline his art work.

Raising an eyebrow at her, “Ye got mad at me for the pond the other day, now whos staring?”

She blushed “sorry, tattoos are not common amongst the locals or lords. Do they mean anything? To the dwarves I mean.”

“Of course they do!” he said his serious tone returning. “When ya earn yer first tattoo, I’ll tell ye then. Maybe I’ll even give ye yer first one.”

Rugiel accepted his answer as she nodded excitedly. Stronric waved her back to the work at hand. She was to smelt down the iron into ingots that they could then use later.

“Now ye see Rugiel there is a type of iron called pig iron. Its a very crude iron ye get from the initial smelting process. We want iron in purer form.” Stronric picked up a crude iron club and slammed it down on the ground. The spider web cracks sprang up and through the iron club.

Rugiel’s eyes widened in surprise, “Stronric, your strength is misleading. I could not replicate what you just did.”

Stronric held up a finger at her. Picking up a second iron club he laid it down on the anvil. Drawing his axe he slide the edge of the axe down the length of the rod. Rugiel did could not see or feel what Stronric felt but he raised his axe and dropped it letting gravity deliver the blow. Spider webs once again covered the iron club.

“Ye see lassie? The pig iron is impure, the earth still runs through it’s veins. What we need to do is remove those minerals.” Rugiel nodded her head as Stronric explained the difference. Stronric picked up the iron rods and tossed them back into the heap of scrap metal.

“So we don’t want this pig iron?” Rugiel asked Stronric as she eyed the pile of scrap.

“Oh but we do, pig iron is used in the process of making steel. Using pig iron instead of pure iron creates Steel that is lighter, more flexible and rust-resistant. Best for two-handed weapons, cross bows and shields. Good for armaments that need to flex under strain. True dwarven steel is even more complicated then this but back to the metal we have at hand.”

Stronric had taught her how to purify the iron, how to set the molds that would form the ingots. She completed her first batch and brought an ingot to Stronric for inspection. Stronric was impressed, they weren’t perfect, but all were a higher quality than the Gobi’s Pig iron. Now if he only had some Metallurgical Coke he could refine it further into steel. He needed to find the mines so they could start forging what they needed. The chores were truly pilling up on him, he also…

Stronric set down the ingot, sufficiently ensured that Rugiel could carry on alone. “I’m going to go up and figure out what to do with these bodies. Ye’ll stay here and continue yer work. Lock this door behind me, ye don't want the gobi sneaking up on ye.”

Rugiel began to question being left alone with her task, before straightening her skirt and taking this to mean she impressed him. She gave Stronric a curt nod as she swung the door shut and slide the lock into place. Stronric made his way through the hold to the front gate, stopping at the hearth for his pick axe. To burn or to bury the dead? Stronric stepped out into the light and looked around. Stronric walked along the road looking over the edge of the cliff face. He wanted a clearing that was mostly flat that he could build a pyre to burn the dead bodies. He found a clearing just up the road a bit but down the sheer cliff face. I can make this work with a lil dwarven intuition. He tied a quick halter to hold his pick axe and flung it behind his back before starting the climb down. Dwarves weren’t natural climbers but they understood rock. He simply used that to keep him following the easier holds down the front of the cliff. Once he reached the bottom he walked back judging the best place to start.

“I think a staircase will be nice addition to the Hold.” Stronric said with a lazy smile. He pulled his pack axe out and began to sing as he took his swing at the mountain.

Time passed in a rhythmic fashion, each pick swing bolstered by his mining songs. He just finished his fifth song when he finished the step that crested the cliff face and connected to the road. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down at his work. A staircase about two dwarves wide was carved straight from the mountain led back down to his clearing. “Now aint that a Beaut.” He said and descended down. He then dug a hole in the center of the clearing that was ten feet by ten feet and was roughly ten feet deep. He carved a quick set of stairs to get out of the hole. He then leaned his pick axe against the wall and retrieved one of the axes tied to his waist. Stronric surveyed the clearing and thought, “Bigg’r the fire the more we can burn. Bauru would be a help now finding these trees but I’ll manage alone I guess.”

He checked the areas closest to the clearing first, cutting down dead trees and hewing them to size. He planned on forming a pyramid of stacked logs and went to work finding the trees that would work. Sometime later he completed his work. A solid wooden floor covered his large hole and a stacked pyramid that ended about shoulder high sat atop it. He took a step back and ensured all the pieces went well together before systematically dissembling it all and stacking the logs to the side.

Stronric collected his tools and made his way back down to the smithy. He knocked on the door and Rugiel let him back inside. He checked her progress, it was slow but he could see she was keeping a competent pace. Stronric took time to inspect some newly cast ingots. Impressed he gave her a thumbs up.

Stronric turned over the ingot and said. “Aye this is very good for yer first time lassie. I came back thinking ye’d need some instructin’ but it seems ye have the hang of it. I’m going back out to load the pyre now. Ye keep at it and again lock the door after.”

A bright smile spread across Rugiel’s face. “I wont change a thing!” She replied as she walked him to the door. “If Bauru comes down I’ll send him you’re way.” Stronric grunted in agreement and nodded. He handed her the ingot and went out, the lock sliding behind him.

Stronric stood in the hallway and sucked in a deep breath. Aw this is going better than I thought it would.

“Morg…” Stronric heard through the door before he was torn from reality. He was standing before a mighty forge. A tattooed hand raised a hammer and brought it down on a mighty axe. The double headed axe was carved with runic patterns made to hold runic powers. Stronric mind was overloaded with knowledge and he fell down to a knee grasping his head.

Stronric fell backwards as the Smithy door opened and Rugiel poked her head outside. Rugiel dropped her warhammer, “Stronric! Are you okay!?”

Stronric shook his head and climbed back to his feet. “Ye I’m fine, I think I just had a vision. Did ye say anything when I left?”

Rugiel shook her head. Stronric walked back inside of the smithy looking around. Trying to sense where he had heard the word from. “Does the word Morg mean anything to you?”

“Stronric, you are speaking dwarven again. I don’t know what that means.”

Stronric said the word over and over again while walking around the smithy. Nothing happened. Stronric shook his head went for the door. “Don’t know what that was but lock the door behind me.”

“Are you going to be fine?” Rugiel asked with worry in her voice.

Stronric waved her away and left. On Stronric’s way back out to the burn pile, he stopped to carry some bodies. He used rope to stack and tie the small gobi bodies into a bushel that sat on his back. Once his makeshift backpack was loaded he started the last trek out the front of the hold. He had just reached the new set of stairs when he heard the “Clunk” of horses hooves and the sound of wheels on the road. He turned into the light of the bright afternoon sun and squinted. A wagon was making it way towards him. A giant puff ball was riding on the front of the wagon. Stronric could make out a shining bald head and spectacles stuck out from the overly large coat. Stronric smiled and waved to the gnome. He untied the bushel and kicked the dead bodies down the cliff. Their bodies fell like the leafs in fall. Most of them made it into the hole, some missed, but oh well, close enough.

Stronric wound the rope back up and put his arms through the loops so it sat across his shoulders. Stronric smiled as the wagon approached. It was large, nearly eight feet high with an oil soaked canvas top and a solid wooden bottom. Stronric could hear the rattling of miscellaneous cargo and he could see items hanging from the sides. The wagon seat held one small gnome but it was made for two. A large pole extended from the bench sticking into the air with a hook on the end, likely to hold a lantern to light the way. The wagon was pulled by two muddy brown ponies and they neighed happily seeing another person.

“Isn’t that the gnome shopkeeper?” a voice said behind him. Stronric spun, drawing his axe and flashed out a kick to separate him from his attacker. Stronric foot connected with a soft body just as he recognition registered in his eyes. Bauru was thrown back and landed in a pile on the ground. Bauru quickly lifted his hands in surrender, “Sorry Stronric! Ment it as a harmless prank!”

“It’d be funny if I shortened you an inch or two” Stronric said as he holster his axe. Thoranthana’s beard Bauru was quiet when he wanted to be. If he wanted to knife me in the back it wouldn’t be hard for him. Once Bauru learns how to fight he is going to be a very dangerous dwarf.

“Ay I ordered some supplies from him, and paid extra for him to deliver them to us. How did the hunt go? Get anything for dinner?” Stronric asked as he reached out a hand to help Bauru to his feet.

“I think ye broke a rib. But I stuck two sows and got em up top bleedin out. I’ll clean em when I go back up. Ye got any salt or something like that?” Bauru said as he stuck a finger into his ear to clean it out.

“Ye I got some salt on order but we’ll see what Mintra delivers. Oh run down and get yer sister. Shes down in the smith.” Stronric said.

Bauru nodded his head and disappeared as quietly as he came. Stronric shivered again at the thought of it. Stronric waved Mintra into the hold and jumped up on Mintra’s wagon.

“How was the trip?” Stronric asked.

“Blasted cold, thats how! How do you live up here, and isn’t this an abandoned and infested ruin? Stronric I am not a dwarf, I can not see in the dark. Calmin, fetch the lantern.” Mintra shouted out. A younger gnome crawled out of the wagon with a lantern. He lit it and hung it on the pole. Entering the outer hold Mintra’s eyes widened, “ I never expected this, ill tell you that.”

Two shadows watched them enter the courtyard from ramparts. Stronric nodded up at them and they disappeared as they made their way down. The wagon came to a stop in front of the damaged portcullis. Mintra tied the reins to his seat and climbed down a ladder on the side of the wagon. Stronric noticed the ladder had extra rungs to accommodate the gnomes short height and decided to just jump down.

“So did ye get everything on my list?” Stronric asked as they walked to the back of the wagon.

“Yes, yes, your supplies are all here. Who are those other two? Don't tell me, Stronric, are those the slaves of that elf? I fear thats why you left that night. The whole town is going mad with gossip. A mad dwarf riding a ram, attacking the town guards and stealing slaves in the middle of the night. The missing elf and so much more, I swear you’ve made the barkeep a lot of money. Though I do suppose that he keeping the rumors running. Everyone got bills to pay and rumors are his merchandise.” Mintra prattled on as he unhooked straps and chains.

Stronric stopped and looked at the gnome. “I thought ye didn’t like slavery?”

“I don't but that doesn’t make me mad enough to steal slaves.” Mintra answered shaking his head.

“Then no, they are my cousins.” Stronric said back flatly.

Mintra’s shoulder drooped and he sighed, “They are going to question me when I get back from here. You want me to lie to the city on your behalf? Why would I do that, we aren’t friends Stronric. You could be putting my whole business at risk. Thats just what I need another business expense. You going to blackmail me into your secrets? Am I even going to return from this trip? Oh please don’t let me, let this be the end of ol’ Mintra and his worries” Mintra said as he walked in circles.

“Aye come off it Mintra. I’m not going to hurt ye or yer friend. We can come up with something to tell em.” Stronric replied with a huff.

“You know I can’t do that, the guard caption will question me and they say his admin has the ability to sense the truth.” Mintra said as he climbed into the back of the wagon and started to untie more ropes and straps.

“Is there any work around we could manage?” Stronric asked as he took a crate Mintra pushed towards him. Bauru appeared at Stronric’s side and Stronric passed him the crate.

“Stronric, I might have an idea.” Rugiel said as she approached. “A merchants contract.”

Mintra turned and looked at Rugiel, “You know of the merchants contract?”

“Yes mast…” Stronric growled. “Yes Mintra sir, I know of them, but not how they work. I do know the prince used them to procure certain items of interest.”

Stronric looked between the two of them with confusion. He leaned forward and waves his hands at her. “Out with it.”

Mintra sat on a crate and looked at Stronric, “Well as you know, us merchants gain levels by buying and selling wares. We can enter into contracts with companies, individuals, and lords and the like. The contract prevents us from telling trade secrets and it blinds truth seekers from being able to see what they shouldn’t. Smugglers use it a lot to guarantee privacy for their contacts. Do you have anything of value to trade me?”

“Is there a certain amount I would need to trade ye for this to work?” Stronric asked as he thought of the items he could sell.

“Hmmm, usually its an agreed upon price. Ahh an idea! I know what, you can make me a weapon like the one you traded to the black smith. Provide me with one a month and that should do it. The trade doesn’t need to be gold, it needs to just hold value. That prevents people from using rocks from the roadside to cover their lies. I would have to value the item.”

Stronric nodded thrumming his face with his fingers in thought, “Rugiel, how many ingots did ye smelt?”

“Six in total” She replied as she took a crate and headed inside.

“Do ye need to leave with one?” Stronric asked, Minta nodded. “If ye have the time I could make one ye one. Ye could stay the night with us.”

BING!

Quest offered: Trade for the Hold.

The hold can not sustain itself on what it produces, you will need supplies and outside help, secure your first trade deal.

Part 1 of 5

0/1

Do you accept? Yes/ no

Reward: Undetermined

Mintra nodded and reach out a hand for Stronric to shake. They shook hands and the deal was sealed.

Trade for the Hold:

1/1