"Whoa!"
The young boy, the middle child of Jein's family exclaimed as the ship passed near the pointed spire of the mountain before them. It was so close that he was able to lean his body over the wooden banister and touch it with the very tips of his fingers.
"That's the Bastard's Spear."
Alluvar, the Battle Cleric of the Mother, said. She leaned her elbows against the railing and watched the two young children from Astaire stare up at the craggy peak beside the dock at Gorrlin. Dwarfs on the wooden sky-dock caught the tossed anchor-ropes thrown by the crew of the Bihtrop: the Pride of the Merchant's Fleet of Camareth. She had been asked about a week and a half prior to accompany two small children from the slums of Astaire to the capital. She pulled the fur bundled around the throat of her shirt up a little and tucked her flowing blonde hair behind her pointed ears to stop it from blowing everywhere as a heavy gust shook the hull of the ship.
"Mooring!" The call came from the Dwarven Helmsman. "All on deck, brace!"
The young children planted their feet firmly on the ground and held the iron railings hard: their tiny gloved hands wrapping around the banisters as the dwarfs on the docks caught the mooring ropes.
"Pull!"
The airship lurched leftward towards the cliff-side town as the dwarfs upon the dock all groaned in strain. The sails were brought low so that it would no longer move forward.
"Pull!"
Once more, the airship lurched.
"One more time, lads! Pull!"
With the final pull, the airship bumped against the skydock. They tied it to the mooring anchors and began to set up the ramps. The Helmsman walked over to the three of them: the only passengers on that merchant ship. He was typical of his kind: short, with braided red hair, and a beard that he kept tucked within his leather belt. He wore a pair of flintlock pistols on his waist, as well as a dagger just in case, he said.
"Lady Alluvar." The Helmsman grabbed the cleric's slender hand and brought it up, and pecked her knuckles with his coarse lips. "We have a hold over here for a few hours, as we unload some wares and load some others. Feel free to disembark with your guests. We'll be leaving in the evening."
"Thank you, Thatch."
"You're very welcome, my lady. When the Mother and the Father work together, ack, I know there's something important going on."
Alluvar chuckled.
"Indeed," Her glossy eyes — the color of the sky at all times; now a dull gray blue with white crystals within them- glanced to the young boy and young girl staring at the bearded men, and hardy women, setting up the ramp for departure. "Though it may not seem like it at the time."
Thatch followed Alluvar's gaze to the two children.
"What's their story?" He leaned in and whispered.
"Ah, I can't say," Alluvar answered.
"Ack, come now. I can keep my mouth shut."
Alluvar glanced around: no one was near, and the Helmsman had proven to be a reliable companion during these weeks in the air. She leaned in toward him so her voice wouldn't carry very far.
"They're the siblings of a young man that the Conclave is looking to recruit." She whispered.
"The Conclave?" Thatch whispered back. "Really? They're on the move?"
Alluvar nodded.
"How old is their brother? Is he some adventurer I would have heard about?"
"No, no! Here's the thing! He just had his ceremony, according to the kids at least...I asked some of the Father's men, and apparently...the boy had a Depth of 12."
Thatch nearly stumbled backward.
"12? That's...unbelievable."
"It really is!"
"Thatch! Stop your fliritin' and help out for once, ya bastard!"
The captain who had disembarked the ship and was helping the crew on the docks called.
"Ack. Enjoy the town, Lady Alluvar." Thatch said as he bowed his bushy head. "Remember to return by the time the sun fully sets! We'll be heading out by then!"
"We will…" She turned to the children and stepped the few steps between them, leaning down so she was level with the small humans. "Do you two want to explore the town with me?'
"Yeah!"
Dwarves were fairly uncommon in Astaire, unless you ventured to the inner ring of the city, where the Adventurer's Guild was; then they became as common as Halflings, Lizardfolk, and Gnomes, which is to say still fairly uncommon, but less so. Though there were a few dwarven cities in Camareth, their populations were sparse. They were more entirely focused on the Central Kingdom of the Seven Kingdoms — the Heart Empire, whose entire civilization was based in a volcanic caldera, and the tunnels that connected to it. Their cities in Camareth were primarily established for diplomatic reasons or trade. Gorrlin was the latter.
"Come on," Avullar said as she placed her slender hand on the back of the young girl and boy. "Let's see what it has to offer!"
They were ushered off a separate ramp from the one that the crates were carried over. The ship rose and fell as if an invisible tide ebbed and flowed beneath it. The wooden sky-dock was surprisingly sturdy, but seeing as it was dwarven-made, perhaps that shouldn't have come as a surprise. She ran her hand over the wooden railings, marveling at how smooth they were. The grain spiraled like a goat's horn, and she recognized it at once.
"Is this Heartwood?" She asked one of the nearby dwarfs.
The woman looked up at her.
"Aye, we made a deal with the elves in the Vale below. They sent up a pair of saplings. We negotiated with them, and wove them together as they grew."
"How are they still living?" Alluvar asked. "They're not very cold-hardy."
"The roots are actually burrowed into the mountains and are in a warm environment. We keep a small fire going underneath the deck itself so that the snow doesn't stick, and to keep the trees alive."
"That's amazing."
"Aint' it just? My husband worked on it for years. He was the Negotiator!"
The two children were baffled by the exchange. Kei, the younger of the two, stepped up and tugged at Alluvar's cloak.
"What does she mean?"
Alluvar looked down at the small child.
"About what?"
"Negotiating with the trees. How do you talk to a tree?"
Both the dwarven woman and the elf chuckled.
" 'Negotiating' is just what Dwarves call their magic," Alluvar explained. "To them, it's reasoning with the world in order to make it do things that it might not be ready to do."
"So her husband's like my brother?"
"I don't know. Your brother is still at the Cathedral, but if he lives up to his potential, your brother will be even better!"
"Is that so?" The dwarf woman said. She walked over to the young girl, who clustered in the shadow of the tall elf woman. "It sounds like your brother is an incredible young man!"
"He is!" The young girl came out from under Alluvar's shadows.
"How is he?" The young boy spoke as he looked over the edge of the railing to the crags of the Nelos below.
"At the last missive I received, he was doing well. He made friends with one of the other boys there, and is sparring with him every day, and took to Enchanting really fast."
As they spoke, the female Dwarf led her ram by a lead onto the dock of the HMS Bihtrop, and unloaded the bags of grain upon its back into a pallet hooked up to a crane that would lower it into the ship's underbelly.
"When can we see him?"
"In a few weeks, little one." Alluvar turned around and bent down to run her hand through the child's black hair. "Then you three will start your new life away from your mom and dad in the capital."
"You promise?"
"I promise…now let's explore this town, yeah?"
"Yeah!"