Hearth Fire

Stronric ignored the Rugiel and Bauru's questions as they walked back towards the tavern. Stronric only had one thing on his mind, beer. His body pulsed with pain, and with each pulse he felt a change happening within him. He couldn’t tell what was changing, but he somehow felt stronger than before. Stronric was still waving away the siblings’ questions as they entered the tavern. They found Gromli, the newfound dwarf, sitting alone at a table beckoning them over. When the party approached the table, they found it was covered in food and drinks. Gromli fidgeted with the tankard and plates making sure they were perfect as the party took their seats.

Stronric sat down heavily reaching for a tankard. Rugiel nodded a greeting and an apology at Stronric’s behavior. Stronric didn't seem to care for pleasantries as he drank deeply from the tankard. The soothing cool ale refreshed the dwarf. Stronric finished the tankard in one pull and set the empty tankard down smacking his lips.

“Much better, a few more of those and I’ll be back into fighting shape!” Stronric said joyfully as he began to eye Bauru’s drink.

Bauru guarded his drink from the thirsty beast and shook his head no. Rugiel sighed and slid her tankard towards Stronric. Stronric smiled and nodded in thanks as he empty the second tankard.

“Is there any way we can have a small keg brought out for him? Who knows how much he is going to drink.” Rugiel asked Gromli looking apologetic.

“Oh, of course, we should have some more down in the cellars. Let me go get one!” Gromli said, jumping up and hurrying towards the kitchen.

Rugiel smacked Stronric’s arm. "Mind your tongue, fool. We're in delicate negotiations to win this dwarf's favor, and here you are, behaving like a common oaf. Show some decorum, or you'll ruin our chances entirely."

Stronric shrugged and eyed Bauru's drink.

Bauru tightened his hold on his tankard and drank quickly, trying to down the beer before Stronric tried to make a move at it. She looked side long at Bauru, Bauru just shrugged, sat down his empty cup and began eating some of the finger foods that Gromli had laid out for their meeting. Rugiel shook her head and muttered “useless”.

Stronric Stronric saw a pitcher in the center of the table and pulled it towards him. He took a sniff, “Ahh more beer!” He said happily before tipping it back and chugging down the beer. He finished his drink, smacking his lip and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He felt much better. The pulsing pain had dulled and started to fade. He stared at his hands and flexed his fingers. His skin felt almost metallic like they were stronger and unyielding. He pulled a dagger from his hip and slowly pressed the edge of the blade against the palm of his hand. The blade met resistance and even as he drew back the blade back it did not cut him. His eyes widened in shock just as a pulse of pain cut through his hand and a small cut was left behind. The siblings stopped talking and turned surprised when Stronric sharply sucked in a breath.

“Rugiel, there is something wrong with me. My skin is changing.” Stronric said staring at the slowly healing wound.

“Stronric, we talked about this. It must be one of your new abilities you got from your class. If you hadn’t walked out of the foundry room we could have helped you with this. It is not normal for someone taking a class to be almost killed.” Rugiel whispered sharply She opened her mouth to reprimand Stronric more when the kitchen door swung open and Gromli came out carrying a mini keg on one of his shoulders.

“Here we go!” Gromli said, pulling out a keg rest from behind his back and preparing the mini keg for use. He sat back down and looked at the three dwarves expectingly.

Bauru was busy eating and Stronric was pouring another beer, so it was up to Rugiel to win over this dwarf to their cause.

“Allow me to present myself with due honor. I am Rugiel Stonesinger, Blacksmith of our esteemed hold and a proud member of the revered Grudge Bearers. Accompanying me are my clansman, Bauru, the Hunt Master of our hold, and a stalwart clansman of the Grudge Bearers, as well as our venerated lord, Stronric Wraith-Thane, the noble leader of our clans, our hold, and the lord of the mountains.

We hail from the rugged heights of the mountains and are on a quest to seek out kindred spirits with whom we might rebuild what has been lost. Each of us brings unique skills and unwavering dedication to this endeavor. We would be honored to have you join us in this noble cause. Once we have dealt with the pressing threat before us, your talents could greatly benefit our hold, helping to forge a new home for those who, like us, have been displaced.”

Gromli’s face portrayed both his shock and disbelief as he looked at the other two dwarves. “Hmm… your story sounds like an old fairy tale, but there are no dwarves or kings under the mountains anymore. Everyone knows this. I would like to believe you and your cause, but this sounds too fantastic to be true. Does the local lord know of this? I wouldn’t believe he would approve of you just moving into his mountains and claiming his lands.”

Rugiel paused, taking in the new Dwarf’s words. She was about to speak when Stronric cut in. “No manling’s gonna tell me I can’t claim me birthright,” Stronric growled, locking eyes with the cook. Gromli tried to look away but found himself paralyzed in Stronric’s unyielding gaze.

“Deep down, ye know ye don’t belong here. Up above, among those who see ye as naught but dust. The mountains call to ye, and yer ancestors are summoning ye back to their hearth. I don’t know all the details of yer plight, but I do know kin when I see it. Come back to the heart of the mountains and find some peace for yer soul.”

Rugiel hid her smile, she knew when it came to calling home the dwarves, no one was better than Stronric. He even convinced her insane brother to come to the mountains. Together they were craving out a place for lost and slaved dwarves. Many dwarves would walk on bare feet till their feet bleed to fulfill this dream.

Gromli stuttered “b b but Thane, what can I even offer to you? I am no warrior, I am but a cook?”

“When the All-Father forged us from the stone, he gave each dwarf the strength to wield an axe, a chisel, or a pick. We’re all born with the ability to lend a hand. Maybe yer arm isn’t as strong, but Rugiel’s surely is. Yer eyesight might not be the sharpest, but Bauru’s eyes are keener than any blade. We’re bound together as kin, through both our weaknesses and our strengths.

None of us are fit for the kitchen, and no warrior can fight on an empty belly. The life’s blood of our warriors will rest in yer hands. Will ye heed the call of the hold and stand with us, serving alongside our kin?” Stronric rose and held out his arm. Gromli hesitated for just a moment before standing and locking eyes with Stronric. Gromli firmly grasped forearms with the Thane and nodded.

“Good now that is done, let us drink, eat and celebrate!” Stronric yelled. The group of four dwarves lifted their tankards and clanked them together.

“For Thoranthana!” the three of them shouted while Gromli looked confused. Rugiel winked at Gromli and whispered, “I’ll explain later.”

They finished their food and drinks in good cheer.

“I am gonna go find Mintra and see what he can do about supplying us for tomorrow” Stronric said as he got up.

“What supplies do you need lord?” Gromli asked as he stacked the dirty plates.

“Oh, we need some rations for the road and other stuff to for camping and being out in the woods.” Stronric replied.

“Don’t worry about food, I will prepare some food and start to pack up my travel cooking supplies.” Gromli said as he got the last of the dishes ready to be carried back into the kitchen.

“You’re coming with us? I expected you to join us on our way back to the hold.” Rugiel asked.

“Of course I’m coming, I can’t let my kin keep eating slop.” Gromli said with a smile and a wink towards Stronric. Stronric smiled and nodded his head.

Stronric said his farewells and told the siblings to get to sleep soon they were to head out before the sun rose.

Stronric’s visit to Mintra’s shop was quick. Mintra agreed to negate the price for milling the mushrooms. Mintra would also put together four sets of camping supplies for the group Calmin would deliver it before they left in the morning. Stronric retrieved the mushroom barrels and brought them back to Mintra’s shop. He said his farewells to the two gnomes then made his way back to the tavern to sleep.

Stronric said a prayer as he laid in bed. He thanked them for helping the small clan and called on them for strength for what’s to come. He felt a calm come over his body and realized the underlying pulsating pain had stopped. He wondered if his class changes were finally complete, so he brought up his stat sheet to look at his new abilities.

Summon the Horn of Thoranthana: Level 1

Ability: Unleash the legendary Horn of Thoranthana to ignite the spirits of those around you. This powerful aura channels the essence of The Hearth, boosting the base stats of all nearby allies by 10% for a limited time. Allies gain increased resistance to fear and mental manipulation, enhancing their willpower and fortitude. The effects are significantly amplified when used on dwarves, empowering their strength and resolve to legendary levels.

Morgal’s Iron hide. Level 1

Ability: Ironhide of Morgal, Time spent forging has transformed Morgal’s skin into unyielding iron. Passively, your skin is tougher, providing natural resistance to damage. Upon activation, envelop yourself in a formidable iron coating, granting you exceptional resistance against blades and arrows. This ability turns you into a living weapon, embodying the principle that "iron sharpens iron."

Stronric eye’s widened as he read. He focused on the Ironhide ability and his skin darkened and gleamed as he was coated in iron. A small snap and his bed’s legs broke, and a cloud of dust erupted covering the room. The siblings woke with a start, drawing their weapons and preparing for battle. They looked around only to see Stronric crawl out from the broken wreck of his bed and stand up. Stronric then broke out into a hearty laugh.

“Oh I am starting to like these powers.” Stronric laughed as his skin returned to normal. Rugiel just rolled her eyes and Bauru shook his head unimpressed, before both returned to bed.

The next morning Stronric, Rugiel, and Bauru were finishing up packing their supplies they had gotten from Mintra. Mintra equipped them each with a backpack and a water skin. He also provided cooking stands, tin cups, rope, and other supplies that would make their life easier when on the road. A fourth backpack sat on the ground, but no fourth dwarf was present. The day was young, and the sun hadn’t risen but the dwarves were getting antsy with anticipation and wanted to get on the road. They re-checked the map and discussed their plans again and still no fourth dwarf came.

Bauru let out a sigh, “Don’t think hes coming. We need to get moving Stronric.”

Stronric sucked his teeth and nodded, “Aye we don’t want to be late. Best to strike when the gnolls are resting mid day.”

The three dwarves took one last look at the tavern and shook their heads. Disappointment hung heavy in the air as the small party made their way toward the western gate “Clang Clang” Bauru held up a hand to stop them. “CLANG CLANG” the sound grew closer.

“Is that the sound of pots?” Bauru asked, holding one hand to his ear.

“Wait! Wait, I’m comin! I just needed to store some stuff underground till we return!” Gromli called sprinting down the road. Gromli tripped and fell tripped through the door of the tavern and fell onto the ground. He came up covered in mud and dirt but his spirit didn’t seem dirtied, his face shown bright with excitement. Gromli was wearing his normal trousers but swapped his apron for a brown linen tunic. He looked like a short squat turtle. A large over-sixed backpack was strapped to his back. It was made from some type of leather mesh that expanded and bulged like a spider sac. Pots, pans, tins, and all manner of cooking supplies jutted, squeezed, and dangled from his overstuffed pack. A large, two-handled ladle protruded like a sword hilt. He swiftly dusted himself off before hurrying to catch up with the party.

“Your shoe is untied.” Rugiel pointed out when Gromli almost tripped again.

“Thanks!” he wheezed as he bent over to tie them.

They could see several mini kegs tied to the pack, sausages, dried herb stock and other cooking ingredients dangled from the backside of the pack.

“Yer sure ye brought enough supplies?” Stronric asked raising an eyebrow.

“Oh I wish I could bring more but I am the only mule carrying this wagon.” He patted the pack. “You said to travel lite so I left behind most of it.”

“This is light?” Rugiel asked her lady-like manners almost breaking.

“Well we gotta eat, you need proper nutrition if you expect to win this mini war!” Gromli said as he pulled a small cook book from his pocket and handed it over. “I’ve come prepared for my first mission as the Hold’s official cook.”

The book was small enough to fit into the breast pocket of a coat. On the cover was a painting of a human knight in shiny golden armor wearing a chef’s hat. The man was handsome and the book even added sparkles to the man’s smile.

Taren’s Mighty Cook Book

The one stop chop for all cooking and adventure needs!

“I saved up for about a year before I could afford a real version of this book! I should have waited two more years to get one with his autograph on it, they say it makes the recipes work even better!” Gromli said with a little bit of regret. “All the same tho! You will be eating like kings… or thanes!”

The three dwarves just stared at the “Snake Oil” cook book in distrust.

“Gromli, I thought you said your class was cook? Why not use your class to cook?” Rugiel asked handing back the book.

“Well this book will aid me in my cooking and allow me to more deeply understand the cooking process.” Gromli said with a beaming smile tucking away the book for safe keeping.

“Well we need to hurry we are running behind and we still have to get Indomitable.” Stronric said as he headed for the stables.

“The book teaches ways to support your adventure party with different meals to boost their particular strengths ya know!” Gromli continued jollily.

The group fell into line behind Stronric, making small talk as they made their way across town. Dark as it was the town was already waking for the day. The militia was eating breakfast and getting ready for drills, the work teams were starting to collect their supplies and the guards was changing over. The town moved with with excitement and motivation that the dwarves have never seen. The crowd parted when the group of dwarves made their way down the road. Citizens threw purple flower in front of them as they walked, the whispers of thanks and prayers could be heard from the people. Stronric raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions.

When they made it to the stables Bauru went to fetch the mighty ram and Stronric asked Rugiel about the flowers.

“It’s a human tradition, they flower the streets of heroes. It's consider good luck if a hero picks up your flower and pins it to their armor. In some places it’s a declaration of love and often the prettiest of woman will attempt to capture themselves a handsome soldier to marry. Seeing as how we are dwarves, I'd say it was more as a thank you and a blessing.” Rugiel said.

Gromli was not prepared to see the mighty ram. Indomitable stepped out of the stables and looked down on the new companion. Gromli face glowed with excitement. Gromli stepped up to pet the massive animal and Indomitable lowered his head to chase off the stranger when Bauru whispered in the animal’s ear. Indomitable looked down at the fat dwarf and snorted, turning away from the newcomer and walking to Stronric to collect his scratches. Stronric nuzzled the ram and scratched his back. They shared a moment of companionship, Stronric stepped back, patting the ram one last time.

“Alright load your pack onto Indomitable, he’ll carry most of our supplies. Keep yer backpack light and a days worth of food on ye. Gromli ye said ye would provide us with food?” Stronric asked as he helped Gromli take off his pack.

“Oh yes! Our breakfast and lunch!” Gromli said excitedly. He dug into one of the compartments of his backpack and pulled out eight butcher paper wrapped meals. Each had a different color of wax poured on it. He handed the yellows to Rugiel, the greens to Bauru, and lastly the reds to Stronric. “Each one is made with what I believe to be complimentary to your style of fighting. Rugiel yours is wisdom, Bauru yours is dexterity, and Stronric naturally yours is strength.” Gromli said with a smile on his face.

Stronric switched with Rugiel and Gromli looked confused, “Rugiel don’t you need wisdom to fight with your words and see through plots?”

Stronric and Bauru laughed as Rugiel held out her war hammer for Gromli to hold. Gromli took the hammer and was brought down to the ground. Unprepared for how heavy the war hammer actually was.

Rugiel tucked away her meals and knelt by Gromli, “No dwarf is free from defending the hold. Stronric is stronger than me, so I will take the extra strength. It'll be good to give me a boost. This war hammer isn’t for show. We need to get you a proper weapon as well. You will need to fight.”

Gromli climbed from the mud for a second time and wiped his hands on his trousers. “No need! My last master gifted me this when he freed me from my servitude.” Gromli walked over to the ram and pulled the two handed ladle from the backpack. He took a wide stance and held the weapon up like it was a sword.

The three of them just stared at him and shook their heads.

“No trust me kin, this is a very dangerous tool. I have had to chase critters and other beast away from the camp fire before! Besides it adds a lovely dash of spice to the meals when I make my soup!” Gromli said look at each one desperate for someone to believe him.

“It’s a ladle Gromli, how dangerous can it be?” Bauru asked squinting his eyes to see some hidden power behind the foolish weapon.

“Its made from elven steel! Some of the best in the land!” Gromli protested. The siblings looked over at Stronric.

Stronric had a particular hatred for the elven kind. Stronric stomped over to Gromli and took the ladle from him. He swung the weapon a few times, before stopping and looking at something inside of the helmet side bowl of the ladle.

“Ye have a magic ladle.” Stronric stared blankly at the cook. Stronric laughter stopped most people on the street it was so loud. Stronric face turned purple and he began to wheeze. “Of course… of …. Of course the dwarfs made the elves cooking tools.” Stronric shook his head still laughing. Stronric picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder and left the town wiping tears from the corner of his eyes.