Legend of the Runeforger: A Dwarven Progression Fantasy

“What’s the deep darkness?” I ask, and am met with shocked silence.

“You mean you don’t know?” Commander Cathez asks. He sounds offended.

“Sorry, no.”

“The deep darkness,” Fjalar says, “Is what lurks at the very bottom of the world.”

“I though the magma seas were at the very bottom.”

“No, no,” says Galar. “The deep darkness lies below the magma seas. And in gaps between the seas, it is possible to drill through the rock to get to it. A long time ago some enterprising dwarves did that, and now we have to live here.”

The two brothers are smaller and slighter than the rest, with keen eyes and sharp features. Their faces are identical, but Fjalar wears his beard in a fork, while Galar has his done into a trident.

“So it’s like a deeper system of caves?”

“Not quite,” Nthazes says grimly. This is the first time he’s lost the slight smile on his face. “It exists in a system of caves, yes. But the deep darkness isn’t just a place. It’s something else. Something alive, for lack of a better word.”

“Something that would destroy us all if unleashed,” Cathez says solemnly.

“It’s not all that,” Galar says. “Just a kind of animal, if you ask me.”

I turn to Nthazes. “What does it look like, then?”

“Look like!” Jaemes scoffs. “Doesn’t look like anything. That’s why it’s the darkness. You can’t see it, or at least, no one has yet. Which is why I’m down here.”

Nthazes shakes his head. “You never will.”

“Oh, I will. Even if it takes me the rest of my life.”

“Your short, human life won’t last long enough,” Fjalar scoffs.

“Having a short life is one of the benefits of being human. I’d rather live to my natural lifespan than sit around forging for hundreds of years.”

“What’s wrong with forging?” I say, feeling slightly offended by this weird creature.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jaemes says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You dwarves can do what you like. Still, it’s all crazy to me. Living down here with no light, banging on pieces of metal whenever you aren’t standing around that awful tunnel.”

“Don’t be so rude,” Cathez snaps. “It’s our way of life.”

“But he has a point,” Fjalar says. “We don’t exactly get to forge from the most interesting materials, do we? Not like the dwarves further above.”

“Titanium and diamond are good enough,” Cathez says.

I get the feeling that this is an oft-repeated discussion, and also feel strangely awkward sitting here with all these dwarves who know each other so well.

“I’ve finished my meal,” I say, pushing my plate away. “I ought to get back to sleep.”

“Oh, no,” says Jaemes. “It would be rude of you to hear so much about us, while we've heard so little about you.”

“No, let’s let him go,” Cathez says. “He needs to recover.”

“He looks well enough to me. Tell me about Thanerzak. I heard some news about a dragon hunt before I came down here. How did that go?”

“It... It didn't go so well. I’m not sure myself what exactly happened, actually. There was...” I struggle to remember. All my memories from before the wandering seem so distant, somehow. “There was a great heat, and then I ran.”

“Ran all the way down here?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Must have taken quite a long time.”

I twist my beard nervously, and end up looking down at it. I freeze in horror. It is no longer black, but mixed with a few threads of ashen gray.

“Are you all right?” Nthazes asks.

“I...” I look up at Jaemes. So intense is my gaze that he flinches slightly. “When did you hear about the dragon hunt?”

“Before I embarked on my career down here. About ten years ago.”

“Ten years?” I gasp.

“Yes, that’s right. A long time for us humans, though not for you dwar—”

“Ten years!” I cry out. I leap from my seat and fall over it backwards. There’s a loud thud as my head hits the ground, but I don’t register any pain. Gasping, I flail with my arms at the table and pull myself up to one knee. “Ten years!”

Fjalar and Galar hurry to pull me back up while Nthazes rights my chair. I sit down shakily, then stand right back up.

“Ten years!” I cry out again. “Oh, hell!”

“Calm down,” Nthazes says. “What does it matter?”

“What does it matter? What does it matter? It’s ten years, for fuck’s sake!”

He pours me another glass of beer. “Calm down. Ten isn’t such a big number. There’s twenty times that many guards living down here, plus the Runethane and his staff. Nothing to worry about.”

Still standing, I swig down the beer in one gulp. “You don’t understand... Ten years is a long time. Hell, it’s a third of my lifetime now!”

“You’re young for a runeknight then,” Jaemes remarks. He’s not at all perturbed by my outburst. “Just starting out. What’s there to worry about?”

“I... I was wandering. Running. I got lost. Oh hell, ten years. I didn't mean to wander for so long.”

“Yes, darkness does tend to play havoc with your sense of time. That’s what’s wrong with this lot.”

“How could I have been wandering for ten years? How?”

“There’s millions upon millions of miles of tunnels in your dwarven realms down here. And you dwarves are adapted for life in them. I’m sure there’s others who have wandered for longer.”

“I only met one other living thing!”

“Not so surprising if you weren’t anywhere particularly damp or spacious.”

“No, no,” I say, holding my head in my hands. “I can’t have been wandering for ten years. It’s just not possible.”

“It’s just ten,” Nthazes says. “Not such a big number really.”

“It is when it’s years! Do you really not understand how time works?”

“We understand that one thing comes after another. We just don’t measure it. What happens, happens. Whatever time it takes...” He shrugs. “Who cares? We all have amulets, don’t we?”

“I don’t,” I say. “But that’s beside the point.” I bring my glass back up to my lips, remember that it’s empty, and half-drop it back to the table with a thunk. “I’m sorry, I have to be going now. There are things I must do up... Up with my guild. If they escaped... Do you know where the realm of Runeking Ulrike is? They might have escaped to there...” I begin to stagger toward the door clutching my injured thigh. “I’m sorry I can’t enjoy your hospitality any longer, but I need to go now...”

Commander Cathez grasps me firmly by the shoulder, pulls me back and sits me down.

“Calm yourself,” he says. “There’s no need to panic.”

“But—”

“Get him another beer,” he orders the twins. “Now look here. You’ve come through a terrible shock, and of course you’ll have to go up and find your guild before long. Don’t worry, we won’t stop you doing that. But you’re in no fit state to take to the roads just yet. And your armor and weapon are in need of extensive maintenance.” He grabs another glass of beer from Galar and all but forces it down my throat. Foam splashes down my graying beard. “You’ll have to stay here for a while.”

I push his hand away. “You don’t understand,” I say. “My guild will be looking for me. Vanerak too—a lot of terrible things have happened. Things I was involved in. The black dragon—”

“Calm down!” Cathez snaps. “Think about it this way. I may not understand these years, but I understand mathematics. One is a tenth of ten. A year is enough to heal up and repair your equipment, surely. And to craft yourself an amulet.”

“A year is a long time. Hell, everything I went through up there took about a year.”

“It’s not a big number next to ten,” Nthazes points out. “One would be a good length, I think. Even two.”

“Even so...”

“However far... Long you spend with us,” Cathez says, “You still need to repair your equipment.”

I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

Nthazes pats me on the back. “Excellent. Don’t worry, you’re safe down here with us. And we could do with some tales from up above. I’m sure you’ve seen all sorts.”

“You could say that.”

“Perfect,” Commander Cathez says. “It’s agreed.”

“Yes. I suppose it has to be.”

“We’re happy to have you. We’re always short on hands.”

“I... I’m happy to earn my keep.” My voice is trembling. Indeed, my whole body is.

“We’ll teach you how to forge your amulet of unaging,” says Nthazes. “Once you put it on, you’ll feel more youthful than ever.”

“Thank you.”

After my breathing has returned to normal and I’ve had another few glasses of beer, Nthazes leads me back up to my chamber. I collapse back into my bed and shut my eyes. The door clicks as Nthazes leaves, and I try to clear my mind and sleep.

But I cannot. Ten years! I cannot wrap my head around the idea that so much time has passed. How could any dwarf survive alone in the tunnels for so long without meeting anyone? Yet the human scholar is right when he says that there are millions of miles of tunnels. Millions upon millions, both natural and also those carved by hundreds of thousands of years of dwarven civilization. And most are only populated by fungus and insects, if there isn’t enough space and moisture to support anything bigger.

Still, it’s unbelievable. The human scholar must have made some kind of mistake, but the state of my beard is evidence that what he said is true. It really has been ten years since the hunt for the black dragon, the terrible war, and the catastrophe that followed—the terrible heat, and doubtless utter destruction above, caused by my desperate quest for information about my brother.

What has become of my guild? They could all be dead, for all I know. Kind Wharoth and everyone else. Even Vanerak. And if they are not dead, what do they remember of me? Are they looking for me? No—after ten years they will have given up for sure.

Then again, to a dwarf like Vanerak, over five centuries old, ten years is not such a long time. It only feels long to me because I am so young. Yes, even thirty is very young for a runeknight. Wharoth too has his own amulet, and is three centuries old. To veteran runeknights, ten years probably only feels like a few months.

This thought calms me down somewhat. If anything, I am now at a more normal age for my rank and skill. Thirty is still very young for attaining the fifth degree, I think, but not unheard of.

There is no reason to panic. My way forward is clear: take on my job with these strange, timeless dwarves, repair my armor and weapons, and forge an amulet of unaging. Then I can reembark on my quest to find my way back up to my guild and Vanerak, and submit myself to justice.