Chapter 17: The Dwarves Arrival
Personal System Calendar: Year 00012, Day 15-28, Month III: The Imperium
Imperial Calendar: Year 6857, 15th to 28th day of the 3rd Month
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Unfortunate Timing
The third week of the third month arrived, and with it came the dwarves whose approach had been foreshadowed in earlier village discussions. Unfortunately, their arrival coincided precisely with the departure of Maya's military forces to establish their staging ground for the Kirka Village liberation operation.
The roads leading to Maya Village remained open, though only one access route existed so far: the northern approach that connected to the Imperial highway system. This road was constantly patrolled by both the garrisoned Imperial troops stationed in Zone Two and the village's own Security Force under Commander Axel Martin's authority.
Any bandits who might have heard rumors of this settlement and wanted to test its defenses had hesitated significantly. They were not as foolhardy as some might assume. They understood the dangers of the Great Forests, and testing those waters, no matter how safe people claimed the village to be, bordered on suicidal. Hence Maya Village had enjoyed relative peace from external threats, its reputation as a settlement protected by a Guardian Beast serving as an effective deterrent.
If problems did arise, the combined forces would act swiftly, especially when threats might impede the village's still-budding growth and development.
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The Young Exiles
The dwarves who arrived numbered twenty-seven in total, all young by dwarven standards though their ages were difficult to determine given that even the youngest sported respectable beards. They had banded together to find a mountain of their own, seeking to establish an independent clan away from the ancient mountain holds where rigid hierarchies and traditional constraints limited their opportunities for advancement.
Twenty-seven was a small number for such an ambitious undertaking, but even with those limited numbers, they represented something more sought after than nearly any other species in Centuury. Dwarven mastery in craftsmanship was coveted by kingdoms and empires alike. Some unscrupulous powers would even resort to kidnapping and enslaving dwarves, while legitimate channels went to extraordinary lengths to procure their talents, paying hefty sums to employ them in cities and major settlements.
But what could a village-level settlement like Maya offer that would interest such valuable craftsmen? Dwarves were notoriously picky about who employed them, moody and fiery-tempered at best, prone to quarreling with employers over matters of creative control, working conditions, and respect for their traditions. Many contracts ended in acrimonious separations when dwarven pride clashed with human or other humanoid expectations.
The group traveled the Imperial highway consulting their maps, seeking the mountain ranges that dominated the northern territories. Then they noticed something unexpected: an intersecting road that was not marked on their charts.
They stopped to verify they were not simply seeing things, double-checking their position and comparing it to the cartography.
"Grumble, this doesn't seem right, does it?"Grom said, squinting at the map. "There is no road here on our charts, no?"
They looked up and down the new road, confirming its existence against the blank space on their parchment.
"That is right-o, Grom," answered a younger dwarf, though you truly could not tell ages by appearance when everyone sported magnificent beards. "This map seems outdated, it does."
They also had a unique dialect, their speech patterns reflecting the isolated mountain communities where they had been raised and trained.
"Hmmm, road seems a bit new, don't it?" One of them dismounted from their sturdy mountain pony to investigate the construction more closely, examining the cobblestones and noting their relatively recent placement.
They looked back toward the eldest among them, seeking guidance. Again, age was difficult to determine by appearance alone, but Snork carried himself with the authority of someone who had seen more winters than most.
"What do you think, Snork? Should we investigate this road?" one of them asked.
Snork tried recalling the wisdom imparted by the Ancient Dwarf Masters who had blessed their journey before they departed from Mount Domble-bah. But he could not recall any specific warnings or guidance about this particular region. The Ancient Masters had mentioned many things to avoid, but this area had not been among them.
"Let us follow this road," Snork decided. "Since there is a road, there must be a settlement at its end. Perhaps they can provide rest and resupply before we continue searching for our mountain."
Their group turned onto the path, uncertain what awaited them but confident in their ability to handle most threats. They were well-armed, after all.
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Dwarven Craftsmanship on Display
Before any dwarfling was permitted to leave their mountain home and venture into the wider world, they were required to prove their capabilities to the Ancient Dwarf Masters. This proof took the form of creating their own weapons, armor, and all equipment they would need for their journey. It was both a test of skill and a practical necessity: if you could not craft equipment worthy of trusting your life to it, you had no business calling yourself a dwarf, or offering your services for that matter.
Their primary weapons were warhammers, proportionally huge implements that served multiple purposes beyond combat. These hammers functioned as battle weapons, yes, but also as tools of their trade: weapons and armor smithing, general metalwork, mining, and construction. A properly crafted dwarven warhammer was a tool, a weapon, and a symbol of identity all in one.
They also carried pickaxes of exceptional quality definitely used to mining rare earth minerals and metals, some members wielded shields as tall as their bodies with only their bearded heads visible above the rim, and several possessed repeating crossbows that represented marvels of engineering. These crossbows held ten bolts in removable magazines, could fire in semi-automatic mode, and were compact enough to carry multiple spare magazines without excessive bulk.
Some dwarves wielded elongated pole-hammers with pointed tips on one end and pickaxe blades on the other, providing versatility for different combat situations and work requirements.
Their armor varied by individual preference and clan tradition: brigandines, chainmail, plate sections, all expertly fitted to their stocky frames. They wore leather coats over their armor, practical additions that provided weather protection and additional carrying capacity. What was truly remarkable about their armor was the enchantment work: each set had been imbued with ice or wind elemental properties that maintained neutral body temperature regardless of external conditions. A dwarf could march through desert heat or arctic cold in complete comfort, the magical regulation preventing the armor itself from becoming either a furnace or freezer.
Their helmets were distinctly styled according to which dwarven clan they originated from. Some bore horns, others hammer-like crests, some featured wings or geometric patterns. Each helmet proclaimed lineage and tradition as clearly as any heraldic banner.
Their equipment was not merely functional but also reflected personal artistic expression. Each piece bore decorative elements, engravings, and stylistic choices that made it uniquely theirs while still adhering to overall dwarven aesthetic principles.
They looked like a company of heavy infantry despite their relatively short stature, their bulky stocky frames and comprehensive armor creating an impression of solid immovability.
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The Confrontation
A few days later…
Upon encountering this group of dwarves, the Imperial patrol was genuinely shocked. Why were dwarves here, in the northern forests? And why were they heading toward Maya Village?
The patrol's squad leader, a man named Goli, decided this situation warranted investigation. They normally would not stop travelers on Imperial roads without cause, but encountering dwarves in this region seemed suspicious enough to verify their intentions and identities.
"Halt!" Goli called out, his six-legged horse moving forward to block the road. "Who are you, and from where do you hail?"
The dwarves immediately became guarded at the sudden challenge. At five feet to five feet five inches tall, they found themselves looking up at soldiers mounted on creatures that towered over them several times over. The six-legged horses added to the intimidating presentation, their unusual anatomy making them seem even larger and more threatening than conventional mounts.
Snork stepped forward to handle the interaction, being the calmest and most approachable member of their group. "This one's name is Snork, son of Snook, a dwarf from Mount Domble-bah. We have come this way seeking rest."
Squad Leader Goli rode closer to inspect them more carefully, his experienced eye examining their equipment and bearing to confirm they were indeed what they appeared to be. After a thorough visual assessment, he nodded with satisfaction.
"Then come. We will escort you to Maya Village."
"What is this Maya Village you speak of?" Snork asked, frowning. "It is not marked on our maps, no?"
"That is correct," Goli confirmed. "It would not be on any maps you possess. It is a new settlement, established only recently but growing rapidly."
Snork raised his eyebrows, a significant expression given how much of his face was concealed by his magnificent beard. He turned to his companions and made a gesture indicating they should form a council circle to discuss this development.
"I want a dwarven vote," Snork declared formally.
"Aye!" The others responded in unison, acknowledging the call for democratic decision-making.
"Should we go with these humans or continue on our original path? Aye for those who would go, nay for those who would not."
The dwarves huddled together, their discussion conducted in low voices punctuated by occasional emphatic gestures. The Imperial patrol waited with growing impatience as minutes stretched on.
Squad Leader Goli finally rode forward to inquire about the delay. "What is the holdup? We need a decision."
"Hush, human," one of the dwarves said dismissively. "We are in discussion, deciding whether we go or not. Do not interrupt dwarven voting traditions."
The tone was unnecessarily rude, and Goli felt his temper rise at the casual disrespect. But he maintained professional composure, merely responding with forced patience. "Then make haste with your decision, for we have duties to attend to."
After what seemed like an eternity of debate, the dwarves finally reached consensus through majority vote. Snork turned back to face the patrol.
"Human, we will follow you to this Maya Village."
Goli felt a vein throb at his temple. All that waiting just to agree to the obvious sensible course of action. "You took so long just to decide something so simple?" he said, his tone carrying an edge of sarcasm.
"Do not insult our traditions, human," Snork warned, his hand moving toward his warhammer, "or you will have a taste of my hammer across your noggin."
"Ha! I would like to see you dare, dwarf!" Goli snapped back, his own hand moving toward his sword.
The situation was deteriorating rapidly, both sides on the verge of violence over wounded pride and cultural misunderstanding, clearly the Imperial Soldier hadn't met a dwarf yet for he would know how stubbornly fiery they were.
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Timed Intervention
Fortunately, at that precise moment, the Maya Village forces that were departing for the Kirka Village recapture operation came into view along the road. August was riding at the front of the column, he immediately recognized the signs of impending conflict and acted with the speed that came from years of preventing unnecessary bloodshed.
He leaped from his position, landing between the two parties just as weapons were about to be drawn. "Stop! What do you think you are doing, Squad Leader Goli?"
Goli, caught between anger and recognition that he was addressing a superior officer, struggled to maintain composure. "Sir, this dwarf threatened me with violence!"
August turned to face Snork, his expression neutral but his tone respectful. "Is this true, Master Dwarf?"
Dwarves were straightforward by nature and culturally opposed to lying, especially about matters of honor and conflict. "Yes," Snork confirmed without hesitation. "The human insulted our voting traditions with his mocking tone."
August raised his hand to forestall further argument. "I want to hear both sides of this matter fully before making any judgments." He turned to the Maya Village forces. "Continue to the staging ground. I will catch up with you shortly after resolving this situation."
Once the column had moved past, August addressed both parties with the calm authority of someone accustomed to mediating disputes.
After he heard both sides' arguments he made his own observation and judgement of the matter.
"From what I can see, both of you share fault in this matter. Master Snork, I understand your traditions are important and deserve respect. However, threatening violence against an Imperial soldier over words, regardless of how disrespectful those words might be, escalates a minor incident into a serious offense. Your response was disproportionate to the provocation."
He turned to Goli. "And Squad Leader Goli, I expected better discipline from Imperial soldiers. Your sarcastic comment about their decision-making process was unprofessional and needlessly provocative. You know better than to let impatience override courtesy when dealing with other races and cultures."
August paused, letting his words settle before continuing. "As a neutral party attempting to prevent bloodshed between guests in our territory, I recommend both of you acknowledge your mistakes and move past this incident. Master Snork, you and your companions are visitors approaching Maya Village, which makes you our guests regardless of Imperial military presence. Squad Leader Goli, you represent the Empire's authority, and that authority carries responsibility for maintaining peace, not instigating conflicts."
He looked directly at Goli. "I leave this matter to your professional judgment, Squad Leader. You may personally escort them to the village or assign a couple of your men to guide them. I must catch up with my forces now, but I expect no further incidents. If there are any, you will answer to your superiors. Am I understood?"
Goli could only acknowledge his mistakes, recognizing the truth in August's assessment. "Understood, sir. May victory's smile be with you in your operation."
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A Shocking Revelation
After August's mediation, silence fell over both parties. The tension dissipated into awkward awareness that they had nearly come to blows over something that could have been resolved with basic courtesy.
Then something majestic occurred that shifted the dwarves' entire understanding of their situation. An enormous eagle descended from the sky, its wingspan massive enough to create wind that bent nearby trees. The Mighty Peregrine Eagle (Finnester) dove directly toward the group with the speed and precision of a hunting predator.
The dwarves' immediate reaction was pure terror. Several reached for weapons, others froze in place, and a few at the back of their formation genuinely feared they were about to be carried off and devoured.
Snork, his mind racing through panic toward clarity, turned to Goli with desperate urgency. "Human! What forest is this? What do you call this place?"
Goli, confused by the sudden question but answering automatically, responded, "You came here without knowing where you were? This is the Great Forest of Lonelywood."
That name triggered a cascade of realization in Snork's memory. The Great Forest of Lonelywood. The Great Forests of Arkanus, as humans called them. But dwarves used a different name, one learned from the Ancient Masters during their final warnings before departure: the Forests of the Ancient Beasts.
The Ancient Dwarf Masters had been explicit: avoid the Great Forests at all costs. These were territories claimed by creatures so powerful that even dwarven mountain fortresses would fall if those beasts chose to attack. Humans who lived near these forests were either mad, desperate, or protected by powers beyond conventional understanding.
And now they were standing in one of those forbidden territories, watching a beast that could swallow them whole descending directly toward them.
But instead of attacking, the eagle landed gracefully near August. He mounted its back with practiced ease, settling into position as naturally as a human might mount a horse. Without a word to either party, August and his mount launched skyward, flying away in the direction from which the dwarves had originally come, heading toward wherever his forces were waiting for him.
The sight left the dwarves frozen in their previous fearful stances, but now confusion replaced terror. Their minds struggled to process what they had just witnessed.
The only question cycling through every dwarven mind was the same: What in the name of the Great Stone Ancestors just happened?
After August had traveled a significant distance and disappeared from view, the dwarves silently fell into formation behind Goli's patrol. They followed without saying a word, the shock still apparent on their bearded faces, their earlier bravado completely evaporated in the face of the incomprehensible.
A human had just casually mounted a beast that should have been trying to kill them all. He had flown away as if this were the most normal thing in the world. And apparently, they were being escorted to a village where this sort of thing was commonplace.
What kind of settlement had they stumbled upon?
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Arrival at Maya Village
The journey to Maya Village's gates passed in stunned silence; it was still a day or two before it came into view. The dwarves were still processing what they had seen, trying to reconcile their understanding of the world with the reality they had just experienced.
When the village finally came into view, they stopped in their tracks once more, staring at the settlement that should not exist.
It was built into the forest itself rather than carved out of it. Ancient trees incorporated into structures rather than cleared away. Walls that seemed to grow organically from the landscape. And in the distance, more of those massive eagles circling above a mountain ridge, their presence suggesting that the one they had seen was not an anomaly but part of a larger population.
Squad Leader Goli turned to address them, his earlier irritation replaced with something approaching sympathy. He recognized that look, the expression of people confronting something that fundamentally challenged their understanding of what was possible.
"Welcome to Maya Village," he said simply. "I suggest you speak with the Elder Council about your intentions here. They will decide if you can stay and under what terms."
The dwarves could only nod, their earlier confidence in their own capabilities and importance suddenly feeling very small compared to the reality before them.
They had come seeking a mountain to call their own. They had found something far stranger: a village in a forbidden forest, protected by beasts that should be their enemies, led by a human who rode the sky as casually as others rode horses.
The question now was whether they would stay to learn more or flee while they still could.