Hearth Fire

Standing inside the tavern, the three dwarves took in the scene of devastation. Most of the tables were shattered or pushed against the windows, while chairs and any available other furniture was used to barricade the doors and windows. The tavern owner and some villagers were hard at work, trying to repair and reinforce their makeshift fortress. Pictures hung askew, tapestries were torn into improvised bandages, and the innkeeper surveyed the wreckage with a resigned shake of his head. The tavern had long been the heart of the community, and now it stood as their stronghold.

The dwarves tried to stay out of the way as they awaited their summons to the war meeting. Stronric's stomach growled, prompting him to head towards the kitchen to check if it had survived the attack. As he approached the door, he heard a booming voice singing and could smell the enticing aroma of cooking meat and bread. Just as he was about to push open the door, a hand landed on his shoulder.

Stronric turned and saw it was the bar keep who tried to take advantage of him on his last visit.

“Hey dwarf… I just wanted to apologize to you.” The man said as he looked down, his shame reddening his face.

Between not caring to speaking to this man and his rumbling stomach, Stronric waved him off. “Oh, no issues.” Stronric called turning back to the door and the idea of hot food.

The man was determined to make amends it appeared as he strode in front of Stronric looking down as he continued. “No, I am truly sorry, you are the savior of this village and I tried to scam you for some coins.”

Stronric stomach made another gurgle, “Really manling it’s fine. I accept your apology.” Stronric replied as he tried to step around the man.

The man matched his step. Now’s the time ye want to come to terms with being an arse? The man looked down at his feet and shook his head.

“Is there any way I can make it up to you master dwarf?” The barkeep asked.

Stronric looked at the man, his frustration building up. “Ye. Ye can move out of…”

“Thane, they are ready for us upstairs.” Rugiel voice cut him off.

Stronric sighed heavily, annoyed, and walked away from the kitchen, the singing and savory smells growing fainter behind him. Rugiel and Bauru followed as a guard led them upstairs. The upper level of the tavern was a walkway circling the lower floor, with small balconies for observing the main area. They passed several rooms along the outer wall. Though not the largest tavern Stronric had seen, it accommodated a fair number of guests.

Millstone was primarily a farming town, drawing outsiders during harvest season. They separate bunkhouses for rent mostly used by temporary workers, but Mintra had warned the dwarves about the poor quality of food. Most travelers chose to stay at the tavern to avoid the unsatisfactory meals and uncomfortable beds, even if they had to pay more. The tavern offered a range of services and entertainment including bards, wrestling, gambling, and occasional mystics and psychics. As Stronric glanced down at the damaged tavern, he noted that while it would take time to return to its former state, it was heartening to see the village’s spirit still intact.

The guard knocked the door, they heard a call from inside and the guard let them in.

“Thane Stronric of the Hold is here as request.” The guard said with a salute.

“Thank you Eric, you are dismissed.” The Captain of the guard said returning the salute and waving the dwarves to join them.

The guard retreated from the room and the three dwarves took the only available seats at the table. The large open room was split into two areas. The first held several big plush chairs to entertain in and the other was dominated by a massive, long rectangular table. Twelve red felt chairs surrounded the table and all but two were occupied. The walls adorned with paintings of farms, hunting hounds and over the large fireplace hung a painting of an elderly man sitting on a throne. Stronric paused taking in the man in the picture. The man’s chin was resting in the palm of his hand, and he looked bored. His face was covered in lines from stress and age. His silver white hair still had some speckles of wheat blond color to it. Wearing clothes worthy of a king the man did not look like the clothes were for him, he looked like he was forced to be there. Stronric wondered if this was the Baron the townspeople spoke about.

“Welcome, welcome allies from the mountains, is there anything that I can get you before we begin?" The Captain asked as the group sat.

Rugiel flattened her war dress and cleared her throat, "Yes actually there is something you can do for us, two things actually if you don't mind.”

The captain smiled and nodded. “Of course, Lady Rugiel, just name it and I will try my best.”

“First and foremost, might I inquire as to your name, Guard Captain? Our Thane has frequently spoken of you in such a manner, and it would be most agreeable to address you properly. Secondly, if it pleases you, could you arrange for some sustenance and ale for my Thane? His stomach’s rumblings are most distracting, and I believe our meeting would benefit greatly from a full belly and a tankard of good beer.”

Stronric looked sideways at Rugiel, I know his name… Stronric began to pull at his beard when he realize. I don’t know his name!

The group looked around at each other in surprise. The guard captain coughed looking embarrassed. “I am Sir Geoffrey Blackwood of House Stormcrest. Rest assured, I shall see to it that provisions are brought forth at once.”

“Oh, you are a knight, I am sorry for the disrespect, sir. We at the hold know naught of your nightly status and for that we do apologize.” Rugiel replied bowing her head.

Geoffrey waved her off, “If I cared about titles and status, I wouldn’t have moved here to be a guard captain. Leave all that stuff the capital.”

“I do not zink zat all titles should be discarded sir Geoffrey.” Armand cut in.

“When the town is in a state like this who cares which loins we come from?” Geoffrey retorted.

Bauru and Stronric made eye contact, Bauru scrunch his eyebrows as if to say what’s going on?

Armand shook his head, "Sir Geoffrey, you know as well as I zat ze gods zemselves guided ze choice of our leaders. Would you dare to suggest zat ze gods 'ave erred in zair judgment?"

“You know that is not what I mean. I just mean that being a good leader isn't based on who your father is." Geoffrey said emphasizing the word good heavily. “Leaders are born every day and from every class. Wars and battles are won with peasant born heroes leading the charge.”

“Are you accusing me of somesing?” Giles said as he started to stand from his chair, his face reddening again.

Stronric looked at Rugiel, he raised his eyebrows looking for approval. She bit her lip and ever so slightly nodded her head. Stronric let out a heavy sigh and drew his axe. The conversation had broken down into bickering and arguing over the value of one’s name and role. Stronric slammed his axe’s haft in the ground, instantly silencing the room.

“If yer done bickering, we have a battle to fight, citizens to free, and a grudge to settle. This conversation can wait till the town’s fires are put out and its people rescued” Stronric sat back down, he did not re-sheath his axe but instead leaned it against the table.

The humans stared at him stunned, Geoffrey was the first to recover.

“Of course! We shall return to the main point for calling this meeting. The assault on the dungeon of the thickets.” Geoffrey said.

A large map was laid out across the table. Even at a quick glance he could tell it was significantly better than the one he had found. The map depicted the whole providence. It showed his mountain, Millstone and the other villages and even included the neighboring baron’s land. Stronric set to memorize every detail he could. Looking over at the other two dwarves he saw they were doing the same.

I wonder if the guard captain would be willing to let us copy this over or sell a one. We've wanted to get a better map of the surround area.

“We need to assault the dungeon and slay the boss that is within. The dungeon has gained the condition of overflowing. Millstone has an outstanding contract with some local adventures to maintain the dungeon but for some reason they have not been doing their jobs.” Geoffrey said while staring at Giles.

The Baron’s son just shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands, expressing how little he cared for the slight.

“Our goal now is two parted. The first is to establish forest patrols to counter any follow-up gnoll attacks. The second is to form two assault teams to free our people and enter the dungeon and kill the boss.” The Captain continued looking around. “My guards can patrol the forest and scout the gnoll camps along the river, where we believe are people were taken. I believe it would be best to have the Thane and his clansman join Lord Giles and the adventure party on the assault team.”

“You expect me to take the dwarves? I would rather bring dogs, at least they would be good for something.” Giles replied with disgust written on his face.

Stronric placed his hands on the table and went to stand when Rugiel’s hand flashed out and grabbed him by the arm.

“Don’t Stronric. Let them speak how they will. We don’t need the attention of the baron.”

Stronric gritted his teeth, “I will not be insulted by some manling boy.”

“Trust in me Thane.” Rugiel whispered to him through her smile with pleading eyes.

Stronric nodded and sat back down.

"Do you take issue wiz somesing, dwarf?" Giles taunted him from across the table.

Rugiel rose to her full stature, her hands clasped in front of her waist. “The Thane has journeyed far to aid the friends of the Hold, and it is our deepest wish to serve our allies to the utmost, even when those allies may not always maintain the finest company.” Rugiel said aiming daggers with her look at Giles. ”The slights against us are coarse and unworthy of your esteemed position. The Thane proposes a revised strategy. Our ranger is renowned as the finest in these lands. So, the dwarves should strike the river camps. Once the humans are freed, we will join you at the dungeon. This way, Sir Geoffrey, you may employ your greater numbers to secure the dungeon’s entrance. Upon our arrival, the Clan will launch a second wave of reinforcements to breach the dungeon.”

Giles face turned red and bare his teeth at her. Armand put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

"You seem quite knowledgeable about war and tactics, but 'ow do you expect tree dwarves to assault a camp of gnolls and live to tell ze tale?" Armand inquired, a gleam in his eye as he regarded the three dwarves.

To everyone's surprise, it was Bauru who responded, remaining seated and not even lifting his gaze. "We are Grudge Bearers." he said, his voice carrying an unyielding edge. "Our Thane has decreed the death sentence for all slavers. By the end of tomorrow, not a single slaver or gnoll will draw breath."

The room fell silent as everyone’s gaze shifted to the one-eyed dwarf, his massive crossbow resting across his lap. The tension was palpable, with Bauru’s declaration of war against the slavers casting a heavy shadow over the gathering. Geoffrey was about to speak when the door burst open and in strode a dwarf bearing two large platters of food.

“Ah, Gromli! Our favorite dwarf!” Geoffrey exclaimed, delighted by the interruption.

Gromli, as tall as Rugiel, entered with an air of cheerful efficiency. His long black hair was pulled into a tidy bun that sat on the top of his head. He had light blue eyes, a flat nose and an easy smile. His tan skin, dark hair and light eyes gave him a distinctive look. While he lacked the imposing physique typical of dwarves, his rotund belly spoke of a life dedicated to the culinary arts. Dressed in simple white cotton pants and a tank top, with a white apron stained from many meals, he hummed a tune as he approached.

He placed the platters in the center of the table, drawing the three dwarves’ curious stares. With deft hands, he then set the table and returned with a small keg of beer, ready to pour for the company. As he approached Stronric and the siblings, the new dwarf stopped dead in his track.

“Dwarves” was all Gromli said.

“Aye, I didn’t know there was more of us in the area.” Stronric said just as surprised. “Speak with me after this meeting is over?”

The dwarf stared at him suspiciously then nodded before he turned and exited the room.

nodded before he turned and exited the room.

The clan was given rooms to stay in at the tavern free of charge. With rooms and dinner taken care of for the night, the Dwarves made their way back downstairs. They were excited to meet another dwarf and one who seemed well regarded. They took up post at a small table and drank beers while they chatted passing time until the dinner rush was over and Gromli would be able to meet them. Gromli was devoted to his job as a chef and would not forsake his duties just because he met some other dwarves. With most of the Tavern was the hub of town and the dinner crowd seemed never ending, so the clan dwarves decided to visit the foundry stone while they waited. The streets were still covered in debris but they cold see how hard the citizens have already worked cleaning up the streets. local militia’s ranks swelled after the attack, to the point there weren’t enough weapons and armor for everyone. Those without arms formed working parties and prepared for tomorrow’s attack.

When the dwarves arrived at the admin building, they found it damaged but swarmed by working townsfolk. The party stated their business and were instantly guided as to where to find the stone. The room that held the foundry stone was still mostly standing and was separated from the other parts of the building by a large, reinforced door. They party paused outside of the door and shared a moment of pure joy and excitement. Rugiel pushed the door open, and the party stood in front of a wall.

“Well, that’s not very exciting is it.” Bauru teased. He led the small group past a couple seat areas that ran along the hallway. When the group turned the corner and pushed pashed the separation wall, The room opened into a large square. A large carved stone sat in the middle of the room. A wooden platform was built around it. Before the platform a pedestal held a book. A sign was carved instructing visitors to sign the ledger before they used the stone. Stronric thumb through it and saw it was a registry, marking every person, their chosen classes and the guild or service they worked form. After each line an official admin stamp marked the entry as official and correct. Stronric huffed, picked up the book and tossed it under the platform. Rugiel’s eyes went wide.

“Now lass before you reprimand me, the manlings have no right to our choices and our classes. The wee book simply was lost in the fight and will be found after we are finished, I’m sure.” Stronric said.

“I saw no book. So who goes first?” Rugiel asked.

“I think we should go in order of who made it to level 25 first. It’s only fair.” Said Stronric looking at Bauru.

“Ye but yer our Thane.” Protested Bauru.

“Aye to shite with that when we are alone. Go on beardling, ye earned it!” Stronric said with a smile and a pat on his shoulder for good luck. Rugiel hugged her brother and whispered words of encouragement to him. The two went and sat down in the waiting area, making sure no one was going to interrupt them. It wasn’t long before Bauru came into the waiting area beaming.

“What did ye get?!” Rugiel asked excitedly.

“I got Itshal’s ranger!” Bauru blurted out excitedly.

The other two just stared at him.

“She’s the goddess of the heard and the hunt! It said I was chosen by Itshal to protect her herd. It boosted to my range weapons, and is supposed to deepen understanding of animals. I can take on their likeness! I was so excited I just chose it over the others. I am gonna go sit down and read through my new abilities!” Bauru left them both standing there.

“Thats Bauru for ye.” Stronric said as he started to laugh. Rugiel had pressed them about how important it was to read through each class and ability. There was a lot that went into choosing your class. You could permanently hurt what you wanted to become if you just chose the first shiny class that came your way.

“Go smack him please Stronric. He needs some sense beaten into him. Well I guess I am next.” Stronric patted Rugiel’s back as she left to go take her turn.

Stronric sat down next to Bauru. Bauru’s remaining eye was closed, and his lips were moving. He was obviously reading all about his new class and abilities. Stronric decided the leave the beardling alone. Stronric thought of what class he would take. He was an axe dwarf by trade back home, but he also how to herd and was even had a decent hand at smithing and mining. Maybe a hybrid miner and warrior. Aw that would suit me just fine. I always did enjoy swinging the pick. It wont be to long before Rugiel takes over the smithy full time. I better choose something that prepares me for the future.

Rugiel came out with a beaming smile as well.

“I choose the anvil’s maiden!” Rugiel said he face lighting up.

Bauru and Stronric let out a cheer and congratulated her with hugs and smiles. She had fought the hardest against the life that had been laid out for her. She was once doomed to be a governess of some spoiled human or elf bastard. Her dreams were not to be a governess but to do something different. Since joining Stronric she had done so. Stronric could not be prouder of her and her brother.

They wished Stronric well as he entered the foundry room. He said a quiet prayer and placed his hands on the stone.

Calculating.

Stronric stood there frozen waiting for the stone to do its work. Time passed and Stronric still waited. He was starting to think the foundry stone wasn’t going to work for him since he was a realm walker.

Five classes have been chosen

Axe Dwarf: You have demonstrated unrivaled skill with an axe. Now, refine your mastery and deepen your bond with this mighty weapon. Let your understanding of the axe cut a fierce path through your enemies, carving through their ranks with unstoppable force.

Elite class, Stat focus endurance and Strength.

Starting Abilities: Hone edge, empowered attack.

Adventuring Prospector: Your curiosity for the unknown is boundless. Venture into the depths of the mountain, and uncover the secrets hidden within its ancient stone. Embrace the mysteries that lie in the darkness and let your exploration reveal the wonders and dangers that await.

Elite Class, Stat Focus Strength and Agility.

Starting Abilities: prospect, depths delver.

Mad Engineer: You have glimpsed the mind of a mad god, and now his eldritch designs shape your every move. The power to conjure creations beyond mortal comprehension lies at your command. Yet, with such profound mastery comes the question: can you withstand the encroaching madness that dances at the edge of your sanity?

Rare class: Stat Focus Intelligence and Wisdom

Starting Abilities: Summon gyro tool, Endless manual

Captain of the legion: You have forged and shaped warriors in the crucible of battle. Now, lead them from the front, wielding your mastery to empower your army and claim dominion over the land. War is but a chaotic clash without the guiding hand of strategy and the precision of tactics. Be the unyielding force that turns discord into victory and chaos into triumph.

Rare Class: State focus Strength and Charisma.

Starting abilities: Empowering command, Endless march

Herald Of the Ancestors: You have been chosen by your ancestors to lead your people with honor. The gods themselves have entrusted you with their will, commanding you to wield their power. With divine strength, mete out justice to those who have wronged your kin and bestow rewards upon those who have stood by your side. Your destiny is to be the blade of the gods and the shield of your people.

Epic class: stat Focus Strength and wisdom

Starting Abilities: Horn of Thoranthana, Morgal’s Iron hide.

Stronric smiled and knew which class he would choose the moment he finished reading his options. He did look into the other classes just so he could tell Rugiel and they could catalog their discoveries. They would have a need of all of the classes that were presented to him. Stronric figured he could figure out how to get most of the dwarves they would find to fill some of these roles. The Mad Engineer would be the hardest to recreate. He would still tell Rugiel of it, but they would need to find a special dwarf to follow Morgal’s insanity.

Stronric selected the class he wanted. Herald of the Ancestors, he was no holy man and had no intentions of spending his time in temples or leading the masses in worship. Dwarven gods were different from most other gods. They didn’t need temple services, they needed action and dwarves to pursue them through their crafts. Temples were still built and the dwarves did visit them regularly, but it was more to pay respects and receive the services of the church. Most hospitals were built near temples of healing.

Stronric chose his class, and a surge of raw power coursed through him. It felt like cleansing lightning. It seemed to sear through his veins. Sweat poured from him as the energy built to a crescendo, causing him to pant and grunt in agony. It was as if his blood were on fire, and he could feel new veins forming beneath his skin. The pain intensified, and with a roar of torment, his vision blurred. He collapsed to his knees, clutching the foundry stone with a desperate grip, fearing that releasing it might jeopardize the creation of his class.

Despite the excruciating pain, he fought to regain control over his mind and body. As blood dripped from his tear ducts and the corners of his mouth, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand. The transformation was brutal, but he refused to falter, determined to embrace the power that now surged through him.

The siblings rushed in and saw Stronric standing there bleeding. His face broke out with a maddened smile.

“Ye never told me this was going to hurt so bad Rugiel.” He said as he let go of the foundry stone. “Now lets go see a dwarf about a drink.”