Chapter 18: The Two Unnamed Mountains
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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A Thousand Years of Fortune
The arrival of the dwarves at Maya Village proper caused a significant stir of murmurs amongst the villagers and other visitors. There was an old tradition passed down through generations across Centuury: when a settlement was visited by even a single dwarf, it meant that place would receive a thousand years of luck and fortune. It was considered a great boon for any community fortunate enough to host dwarven craftsmen.
Dwarves were treated with the same reverence as elves, though the two races maintained such profound mutual indifference that they could barely stand each other's company. Their ancient feuds and cultural differences ran too deep for casual reconciliation, though both races commanded respect from other species through sheer excellence in their respective crafts.
But one dwarf was already considered a great enough blessing. Twenty-seven of them? That was something else entirely. The whispers spread through the village like wildfire, speculation and excitement building with each retelling.
"Did you see them? There are twenty-seven dwarves!"
"The village will prosper for generations!"
"My grandmother always said dwarves brought fortune wherever they settled..."
Our bearded friends, however, could not hear these whispers. They existed in a world of their own, their minds still processing the overwhelming impossibility of what they had witnessed and where they now found themselves.
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Disbelief and Discovery
One of the dwarves, Grom Metalforge, finally found his voice and exclaimed with genuine outrage, "This is no village! Are you lying to us, human? Is this revenge for a few days ago?"
It had been a day or two since they first encountered the Imperial patrol, covering approximately seventy-five percent of their journey to reach Maya Village.
Squad Leader Goli, who had escorted them despite his earlier confrontation with Snork, bristled at the accusation. "What? You think I am lying? No Imperial soldier lies about such matters! I will have you know that this settlement has been officially classified by the Empire as a small village based on its population size by the Imperial census standards!"
"No way!" another dwarf protested, gesturing at the walls and structures visible through the gate. "Clearly this is a town or a military fort, no?"
Goli felt his patience wearing dangerously thin. "Urrghhh! If you do not believe me, you bearded bastards, ask the Elder Council about it yourselves! This is so stupid." He grumbled the rest of his words under his breath, thoroughly done with dwarven stubbornness. "Goodbye! We have work to do!"
He and his patrol rode off, leaving the dwarves standing at the entrance to Zone Two, still processing the new things they were seeing with each passing moment.
"What in the Stone Ancestors' names is going on?" Thrain Ironbeard muttered, looking around with wonder and confusion warring on his bearded face. "This place looks elven-like!"
Well, to dwarven sensibilities it might seem so. There were trees everywhere, many trees even integrated directly into some of the structures themselves. But the more they looked, the more this place seemed alien by the minute. It was not truly elven architecture, they realized upon closer inspection. The designs were different, more organic in ways that even elves did not achieve, as if the buildings had grown rather than being constructed.
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The Elder Council's Warm Welcome
People from the Elder Council had been informed of their unusual guests and hurried toward the gates to inspect the commotion personally. Village Chief Red Peerce led the delegation, recognizing that this situation required the village's highest authority to handle properly.
When they arrived, they found twenty-seven dwarves clearly mesmerized by their surroundings and gaining more attention from curious villagers with each passing moment.
Chief Red stepped forward with the practiced diplomacy of someone who had navigated countless delicate situations. "Greetings, masters. I am Red Peerce, Chief of Maya Village. May I know your names and your purpose for visiting our settlement?"
The dwarves heard only two words that mattered most to them at that moment: chief and village.
Snork Helmskeep immediately stepped forward, though his curiosity about his surroundings still warred with protocol. He performed a respectful salute, banging his chest with his fist to show proper respect to a leader. "Hohak! Chief, this one is named Snork, son of Snook. We are dwarves permitted to leave our home, Mount Domble-bah on our traditional journey. This is a sensitive matter to us. Let us speak elsewhere in private!"
He paused, then asked the question burning in every dwarven mind. "But I must ask you, Chief, is this place truly classified as a village?"
Red had not expected such straightforwardness, but he had learned over time that different people and races maintained their own customs and communication styles. He quickly adjusted his approach to match dwarven directness.
"Yes, Master Snork. This is indeed a village settlement called Maya. It is classified as a small village by population count, though I understand the infrastructure may suggest otherwise." He gestured toward Zone One. "I agree that we should move to the Council Hall for a more private discussion. Please, follow me."
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Zone One: Elven Without Elves
They moved toward Zone One, and as beautiful as Zone Two had been with its organized farmlands and commercial activity, industry and military, Zone One was something else entirely. The dwarves felt an instinctive hostility rising just from the aesthetic, thinking it resembled elven design.
Those pesky long-eared tree-huggers! How dare this place look so... so... beautiful!
But as they walked and observed more carefully, they realized there were actually no elven design elements incorporated at all. The beauty came from something different, something they could not quite identify. It was organic without being wild, structured without being rigid, planned without being artificial.
They arrived at Maya's Elder Council Chambers, where the most important discussions and decisions for the village were conducted. The circular building wrapped around an ancient oak whose branches formed a natural canopy above the council table, and the dwarves found themselves grudgingly impressed despite their general distrust of anything that looked remotely elven.
"Master Snork and company," Chief Red began as they settled into the chamber, "we could not prepare an elaborate welcome because your arrival was unexpected. But please, accept our hospitality and have a drink of our village's finest beverages."
He gestured, and several barrels were rolled into the chamber.
The mention of alcohol immediately captured every dwarf's attention. As much as dwarves were renowned for their craftsmanship, they were equally famous for their appreciation of alcoholic drinks and their merry celebrations.
"You have alcohol, Chief?!" Grom Metalforge exclaimed with such enthusiasm that he forgot they were in the presence of the village's leadership. He received a solid bonk to the head from Snork's fist.
"Control your thirst, Grom!" Snork admonished Grom's behavior. "We are in the presence of the village's leadership, the equivalent of our mountain's Ancient Masters!"
"Ah!" Grom rubbed his head but managed to look appropriately chastened.
Of course, all the dwarves' mouths were already watering at the mere thought of being able to drink alcohol, which they had sorely missed during their journey. They honestly did not care if it failed to match the quality of dwarven brews. They would take whatever was offered!
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The Test of Quality
They had stopped at a few taverns during their travels specifically to acquire alcohol, but it had all tasted like complete rubbish compared to what they were accustomed to. It could not compare to proper dwarven alcohol in any meaningful way. They had even cursed at tavern owners for selling such poor-quality drinks.
But they had eventually learned that human methods of making alcohol simply differed fundamentally from dwarven techniques. Their standards had been lowered out of necessity. Their fine palates for good alcohol had been forced to accept whatever swill was available.
So whatever the village would give them, they would accept without complaint. Expectations were thoroughly adjusted downward.
The Elder Council members did not know what the dwarves were thinking, but they had discussed this exact scenario on their way to the Council Chambers. They had heard that dwarves were particularly discerning about their alcohol, making it a potential point of friction or alliance depending on quality.
They had decided to serve the absolute best the village could offer. It was also a well-known tactic that important discussions proceeded far more smoothly if you properly honored dwarven customs with fine alcohol. They wanted to make a good impression, desperately hoping it would meet dwarven standards.
Even the confident elders felt sweat trickling down their backs as the barrels were opened. They really wanted the dwarves to stay in Maya Village. Even if only one or two decided to remain, that would be an incredible boon. But all twenty-seven? That would be beyond their wildest hopes.
"Ah, do not worry about Master Grom's enthusiasm," Chief Red said with practiced diplomacy. "We are accustomed to passion in our Council Chambers. In fact, it is welcomed here to speak what is truly on your mind rather than hiding behind false courtesy."
Snork remained guarded, still worried they might be expelled without even tasting the promised alcohol! He was about to apologize formally, but if the Chief insisted it was acceptable, there was nothing more he could do. "Very well, Chief. I apologize for Grom's behavior regardless. We gratefully accept your hospitality!"
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Heaven in a Mug
As soon as the barrels rolled fully into the chamber, the dwarves felt a giddy anticipation building in their chests. They wanted to drink so badly it was almost painful.
They retrieved their own huge wooden drinking mugs, specially crafted implements designed for serious consumption, and poured generous portions of the cold beverage. Without even waiting for the Chief's formal toast, traditional in most human cultures, each dwarf gulped down the entire contents in one continuous swallow.
The effect was immediate and profound.
It was smooth. Delicious. No, it was absolutely heavenly compared to the swill they had been forced to drink during their travels.
It was easy to drink without harsh aftertaste, tasteful with complex flavor profiles they could actually appreciate. It was almost as superior as properly concocted dwarven alcohol. But this beverage possessed a league of its own character, a very distinct taste that was neither trying to imitate dwarven methods nor settling for inferior human techniques.
This was something genuinely excellent on its own merits. It was a heavenly bliss to even take a single sip.
Seeing how the dwarves had fallen into stunned silence, as if they were reminiscing about beautiful memories of home and family, the elder responsible for this particular beverage allowed himself a very wide smile.
Beelor Millwright, master baker and fermentation specialist, had personally supervised the creation of the barrels now being consumed by their dwarven guests. His brewing methods combined traditional techniques with innovations developed through decades of experimentation. He had hoped it would meet dwarven standards. Seeing their reactions confirmed his success beyond question.
Each elder, and even Chief Red himself, could finally wipe the nervous sweat from their brows. The critical test had been passed.
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Boisterous Fellowship
The Council Hall was soon filled with boisterous laughter and animated conversation. After the small feast that accompanied the alcohol, all tension drained from the dwarves' stocky frames. They became relaxed, open, willing to discuss matters they would have kept guarded under different circumstances.
They all thought the same thing: This place seems like a genuinely nice place to settle! (Of course they weren't bribed by the alcohol, wink!)
Red was the first to reopen the topic they had set aside for hospitality. "I hope you enjoyed our village's welcome, Master Snork. Now, let us proceed to the business we left hanging earlier. You mentioned it was a matter of private importance. Please, tell me what assistance our humble village can offer."
Snork and his companions, having eaten and drunk their fill of the village's excellent offerings, had become significantly more chatty and transparent with their words.
"Yes! I apologize, Chief. The food and alcohol were very good. Exceptionally good!" Snork's enthusiasm was genuine and unguarded now. "We are on our traditional journey. When we reach the proper age in dwarven culture, we must depart from our mountain holds and find new mountains we can call our own. We have wandered far and wide to no avail. Then we reached this place! A very good place indeed! Hahaha!"
Red thought quickly, recognizing an opportunity that could benefit both parties tremendously. "Aha, since you are seeking a place to establish yourselves, are you interested in our mountains? They remain almost entirely unexplored. We have made only a few stone quarry extractions for construction materials, but the minerals and metals have remained completely untouched. We did not want to make mistakes through ignorance, so we have been seeking experts exactly like yourselves. That is, of course, only if you would be interested."
He paused, then added, "The village territory also contains other mountains in the surrounding region, though we have not made even a single prospecting expedition to those locations yet."
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The Impossible Oversight
"Wait!" Snork nearly knocked over his mug in shock. "You have mountains here, Chief?! We did not notice any!"
Of course they had not noticed. Their minds had been overloaded with incomprehensible information from the moment they approached Maya Village. They had not realized upon entering Zone One that the residential area was literally positioned in the middle of a gap between two mountain ridges forming a V-shape. The ancient trees had been so distracting, the architecture so unusual, that they had somehow missed the towering geological features directly in front of them.
Only dwarves could explain how they had managed such an impressive oversight.
"Well, yes, Master Snork," Red said, suppressing his amusement. "I assumed you had seen them upon approaching the village? We are literally sitting right now at the foot of these two mountains. They still have no official names, but they are indeed part of the village's territorial claim. We can show you the interior if you are interested in inspecting them personally."
The dwarves' smiles grew enormous. They felt more excitement rising than even the prospect of drinking excellent alcohol had generated. Mountains! Real, unexplored mountains!
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The Mountain's Embrace
Upon exiting the Council Chambers, they finally looked up with proper attention and saw what they had somehow missed before: towering peaks, massive eagles' nests visible on the higher ridges, the two mountains forming a natural barrier that enclosed Zone One like protective arms.
They followed Chief Red and the village elders deeper into the settlement, passing more houses and noting a distinctive tower near what appeared to be an entrance to the mountain itself. Clearly, a powerful magic wielder (mage) lived there. The dwarves could sense the magical resonance even from a distance.
But they could not concentrate purely on such details. The magnificent beauty surrounding them demanded attention. At certain times of day, Zone One could be the most ethereal place imaginable, bathed in golden light. At other times, it would be overcast with shadows as the mountains blocked the sun. Right now, the sun positioned itself directly in front of them, lighting up everything on the hill where they stood.
Or perhaps it could be described differently: the gap between the mountains was like a mouth, and the village or hill it sat upon was the tongue. They were being drawn into the mountain's embrace.
As they reached the furthest rear section where the two mountains had melded together, they saw a massive stone door built into the rock face. This was the rear fortification, and the guards standing there and watching their approach opened the reinforced portal for the Chief and his guests to enter.
Then they saw the glorious interior of the mountain fortress. It was a defensive position in itself, but also something more: the beginning of passages that led deeper into the mountain's heart.
They headed further down through the carved tunnels that showed minimal human alteration, and then they saw the true interior of the mountain itself.
The dwarves could only gasp collectively. A place so beautiful! And mostly untouched by mining or excavation!
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A Unanimous Decision
Without even initiating a formal vote, though each dwarf had always remained an individual with personal agency, they all recognized they had found something extraordinary. They had banded together for safety during their journey, but the original agreement was that each would ultimately decide for themselves where to settle.
In perfect unison, driven by shared recognition of an opportunity that would never come again, they all excitedly exclaimed their thoughts in one voice:
"WE WILL LIVE HERE!"
A huge smile formed on Chief Red's face. In fact, everyone from the Elder Council was grinning ear to ear, barely containing their triumph and satisfaction.
And that was how Maya Village acquired a new race: the dwarves.
Not just one or two individuals, but all twenty-seven young craftsmen who had departed Mount Domble-bah seeking new mountains to call their own.
They had found their home. And Maya Village had gained craftsmen whose skills would elevate the settlement's capabilities beyond anything previously imaginable.
The two unnamed mountains finally had purpose beyond mere geography. They would become the foundation of one of Maya Village's future prosperity, shaped by dwarven hands into something that would endure for generations.
The thousand years of fortune promised by tradition had just begun.