The journey took several days. I was sure I could have reached the gates of the dwarven mountains in less than two days. But after so many questions from this annoying elf, the stops to hunt, the undead that kept attacking at various hours, it had become a nuisance. I was angry, worried, but also fatter from all the food. So I was grateful to fight these stupid zombies.
The undead attacks were quite unpredictable for me. If I were traveling alone, I was sure I would have them five meters away before I noticed—unless they stumbled, groaned, or did something to give themselves away. But with the hunter's company, it became monotonous. Suddenly, she would stop and climb into the trees. She would return and calmly say, "Fifty are coming our way. They will take an hour to arrive." Normally, I would care about a jar of stale beer for that information. I could run ahead—only to be caught while sleeping, while defecating, while talking. I preferred to eliminate them and continue on my way. So she prepared some snacks, drank water she brought from somewhere—I still did not trust her, so I purified it without her noticing. Nothing had appeared yet, but I was not going to let my guard down. I did calisthenics to make my bones feel more heat than the fury consuming me, and I waited for them. After eliminating the enemies—humans, peasants, soldiers, even some animals that had fallen prey to this plague—I packed everything and continued on the road. This situation would not delay us so much, but apparently it was an elven custom to eat three times a day! I, who in the city ate once and while traveling went days with nothing beyond a little dried meat, suddenly was treated to forest fruits, seeds, various meat stews, tree saps with sweet flavors. Definitely, my muscles looked a little more like those of dwarves and less like stumps with arms.
At the end of the third week, I saw the first outposts... empty. I was not surprised. These outposts were built with local stone, intended to provide protection for various cargos. They were not designed to be habitable beyond one or two nights. They had a spring, a few ragged blankets, and perhaps a rustic forge. Yet as I traveled the kilometers, I saw the deterioration was more marked than I thought. With a knot in my throat, I contemplated broken hammers, empty saddlebags, wooden cart wheels. Many dwarves had passed here—but no longer. Even though it disgusted me, I knew the reason. The surviving dwarf kings must have raised taxes.
Upon reaching a couple of kilometers from the entrance, I deviated from the main path. To the barrage of questions, I replied to my admirer that there was a less costly entrance than the main one. I had almost thirty gold pieces from looting the attackers' pockets. Yet I did not know if they appreciated human money here, or worse, if there was still law—which when I left this place was already an illusion.
At the entrance for the "Dark Dwarves"—as humans and even other dwarves loved to call us—it was occupied. But it was not by people from the villages. In this case, they wore cast iron armor and faces full of scars. That and the drawing of the five-peaked crown told me much. Inside, I cursed everyone. My already great fury increased a few more degrees. I feared I would not be able to avoid killing dwarves who stole freedom from others.
Just as I began to see how to eliminate two hired muscles without it looking like I was going to eliminate them, I felt a breeze at my side. Instantly, I saw their bodies collapse without movement. Curious, I approached to find them unconscious. Indeed, their "royal" shield belonged to the dwarf king. They had privatized the exit of my people—those seeking fresh air, those who could not leave by the main gate, settling for the air given by this ventilation tunnel, or like me when I fled, crawling through it. They were beings with more need to be free. Up close, I saw the darts embedded in their eyes. She was very quick to load her weapons and incapacitate them. Moreover, they were left blind in one eye. Yet these "guards" could continue in their posts as long as they had weapons to sustain them. So my hammer glowed red from the Molten rune. With four strikes, I broke a couple of low-quality axes and the breastplates. I was troubled that their skin showed no trace of melanin, which indicated they were not ambitious dwarves with the upper class. They were middle-class warriors. They should not have fallen to these posts. Those who worked here were workers—simple people who did this to earn a little food by letting out dwarves who wished to leave. Most, fearing the vastness, returned. But we did not return. My wife and I escaped this hell for the price of a piece of boar meat. Yet now the price list was clearly readable as if for traditional exits. The words were marked in my mind as I read:
"Mine Access Gate, Price List for the Year XXX:
- Entry: leave three iron ores or their equivalent in weapons with the guards
- Exit: one silver ore
Note: The tunnels contain dangerous beasts and toxic emanations. We are not responsible for the death of those wishing to enter. The company will take any belongings left by the body and use them to feed the scum."
Barely ten meters from the entrance, with the faint light from a ventilation shaft no more than one meter eighty high, I found one of those who had not managed to escape. He was dying from the toxic emanations coming from the city that had mistreated him to the point of wanting to flee. In his hand, holding his only fortune—a piece of copper and a stone knife—he said nothing. His gaze dimmed as he saw something behind me. I thought he was looking at the elf, but when I turned, I saw a sign that was also not there fifty years ago:
"So you want to leave? Wretched dogs! To get out of here, you must pay with all the metal you bring and face the guards. If you survive, you will have the right to flee! Cowards, traitors to the king!"
Sick, weak, and armed with stone weapons against two dwarves... This place held horrors beyond what I expected. The help they asked for should not only be against the enemy but to save them from themselves.