“I am not one to speak of my personal business before a proper introduction. I believe that an elf from the west would be more rare a sight than visitors from Garamas. What is your name?.” Perthran said pointedly. Veryyn was confused. In his many long years, he had never heard of such a place, or seen anyone dressed so strangely. “I am Veryyn, if you insist. But please tell me. If you are not with Kardone or the Nearborne oppressors, how do you know this country so well? This dwarven passage has remained hidden from the humans. It has fallen out of memory long ago. Also, I know of only one dwarf within a day from here and I happen to be in pursuit of that dwarf. What dwarves do you seek?” Veryyn finished and his eyes focused intensely on the foreigners.
Quietly, Kotia responded. “We are more than happy to answer all of your questions. However, I’d much rather do it without your beast ready to attack . Can you please call your companion?” Barron had taken the strangers’ flank, and remained tense, ready to strike. “Come Barron, let us listen to what they have to say.” Veryyn said, and his bear sized friend walked wide around them slowly. He joined Veryyn, sitting next to him faithfully. “See now, no threat to you.” Veryyn said. “You say there are dwarves nearby, but I have known none to live nearby. And how did you find our little burrow?”
Perthran made an odd face at that comment. His large wide face showed much emotion, and his brow furrowed. “What spoke the truth when we first met. We have traded with Fulmin-Dum for many years, and they are half a day from here as the crow flies. On foot, however, it is tough country and nearly impenetrable.” Veryyn seemed very intrigued. Fulmin-Dum was not a name he had heard before. He had often talked of all the halls of dwarves with his fair Evie. She had sung songs and told stories for many days of her people but had never mentioned it. Perthran continued, “We made landfall Southwest from here, as we have many times in the past. The journey is treacherous through the sea-stacks along Ghostshore. Their gate is only a quick walk from the beach there.”
“Lies.” Veryyn said flatly. “There is no beach along the Ghostshore, all have always known that.” “Maybe,” Kotia replied. “Maybe that belief is what the dwarves have relied on. They are a reclusive bunch, and refuse trade with any of the inhabitants of Enwyld. But it was the dwarves who sent word to Garamas years ago. They hoped that we might come to bring trade and sent a messenger. Most unusual people!” The last statement left Veryyn with a smirk. A dwarf willing to enter a boat would be an unusual sight indeed. Veryyn quickly composed himself. “That doesn’t fully answer a question, but that is definitely a strange story. Why are you here, at the mouth of my burrow.”
With that, Perthran broke into laughter and Kotia giggled a bit. The tension had left the air. “Your burrow?” He said, after regaining his composure. “An elf squatting in a dwarven hold. I believe that I have seen everything now.” Veryyn could not take offense, as he had always thought it a little odd himself and he even wore a small grin in response. “To answer your question, Veryyn, we were given directions.” Kotia said. In that moment, Perthran slipped his hand under his heavy baldric. In an instant, the mood became tense again as Veryyn put his hand to his long slender knife. Barron growled lowly.
“Easy now friends.” Perthran said, and withdrew what appeared to be several flat boards tied together. They were the length of his forearm and as wide as his hand. Slowly he undid the fabric that held the pieces and bent to the ground, arranging them upon a bare patch of earth. It was a map of southeastern Enwyld, easily recognizable complete with the sweeping Dragonsback running from the southern coast to the northeastern badlands. The Iron Palisades capped the mountain range upon the southern coast, and the Kiowan Plains extended across in the west beyond the map. Overlain across the black terrain were unfamiliar marks in red. Like a spiderweb it spread here and there throughout the Dragonsback. There were many unfamiliar holds listed, and along the southern shore, within the Iron Palisades was marked in heavy blocky script Fulmin-Dum. Examining closer, he found a small section of spiderweb ending upon the spot they stood at this moment and was punctuated by a single nondescript red dot.
“You see Veryyn, we made landfall here, at Fulmin-Dun and found the dwarf door unresponsive to our calls. It was quite unusual. Along the bank of that tough country, we made camp. For three days we hailed the mountain folk with no answer. We didn’t know what else to do, and after some debate, we made for your little burrow to see if we could reach our dwarf friends. That was a little over a week ago today.” Perthran said. Veryyn was stunned at the information. In all of his life, he had never known dwarves to inhabit this far south. He felt foolish, but long he had been removed from the dealings of the world. He had preferred to remain hidden, scraping a living with the few he had come to know and care for.
“It is locked.” Veryyn said. “I do not know why. It has never been locked before.” he continued. His path was starting to become clear before him. “Perhaps our paths crossed for a reason. I am seeking a dwarf. Evie is her name. Together we have resided here in this hole for several years. Today, we were pursued by humans. We meant to meet here, but…” he trailed off. He felt a twinge in his stomach. “You care for this dwarf?” Kotia asked. “Yes. Very much so. She is long in years. I have been her companion for over a century.” Veryyn said. Kotia nodded in agreement. “I believe our paths are connected, at least for now.” Perthran said. “Come, these are strange times. Let us make camp. In the morning, we will take another approach to reach our dwarven comrades.”
Veryyn and Barron looked at each other in unspoken agreement. It seemed reckless to camp in the open. “Come.” Veryyn said, and led them under the large overgrown roots and to the dwarven door. The sun started to hang low on the horizon and the cool breeze could be heard outside of the small rock shelter. Kotia gathered a small amount of wood for a fire. She uttered some words quietly and dark embers flowed from her outstretched palms and across the wood. A strange dim smokeless fire lit their faces. It seemed to live upon the logs, and did not consume it. Their conversation continued into the night, where they talked of many things. Barron laid curled up in the dirt and Veryyn sat close. Late in the night, the two foreigners found sleep. Veryyn remained vigilant, and could not shake his sense of longing. Evie was on his mind as the quiet night wore on.
Ricky Hurlich Shorts 