The trip home from the trading port was an uneventful one, and as they returned they could see that the city was already in recovery.
Already, the skeletons of new homes and structures were standing where there days before there had been scorched husks left by the dragon attack.
Still, the scars of the attack had barely begun to fade, but the restoration was going far quicker than one could have expected.
The dwarf, sitting astride a large barrel of indistinguishable make and contents which he had insisted they bring along for the journey.
From the sloshing sounds it made, Uther were sure the contents were liquid. Ale, perhaps. The dwarf seemed extremely fond of the stuff, to the point of using it as his personal secret weapon, but as of yet the contents had not been tapped.
The dwarf drew a deep breath before clearing his throat and spitting onto the side of the road.
“Rustic, eh? Didnae expect tha’ from yer capital, shinypants. Use all yer metal for yer finery, eh?”
Uther turned his gaze fully to the dwarf.
“Sorry?”
Gherg aimed a wide, gap-toothed grin at the human. “I donae mean harm by it, lad. But wooden houses? Askin’ fer a fire, tha. Also, wooden roofs? Wood’ll go murky an’ bad. Much better ta use copper, at least if ye want it to last.”
He nodded sagely, and Uther couldn’t help but be amused. Something about a dwarf with a few missing teeth and a slightly swollen, ruddy nose giving sage advice on architecture was amusing to him. The edges of his mouth begin to crawl up in a slight smile.
“You should tell that to Johann, the lord regent of the city.”
“Ye bet yer arse ah will. Now, Ah bet this ain’t where ya got tha beastie. Unless ye found tha elusive barn-dragon.” The dwarf grinned.
Uther nodded. “The dragon flew through the city, but didn’t stay. I believe the scouts Johann sent out should have more information.”
“Then let’s go see what they know. Ah ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
The dwarf scratched his beard solemnly.
“Say, ya think I’ll get a statue or somethin’ when we kill this lizard punk- Sodding hell.”
His train of thought was instantly blown out of the water as a walking corpse stepped out into the path of the dwarf’s carriage, and instantly the dragonslayer flew off his keg, axe in hand.
“Don’t worry lad! I’ll get ‘er!”
The corpse stopped, turned towards the carriage, and was instantly beset by the dwarf. The axe bit deep in the corpse’s shoulder. Then, with practiced ease, it was pulled free, and the desiccated leg was lobbed off by the half-pint warrior.
A couple of more swings later, the dwarf stopped as his foe didn’t move to defend itself, or fight back.
“Right. We should have told you about the undead.”
The war-room of the old elven tree-fortress was unusually full today. Well, it wasn’t every day they had a dragonslayer in their midst, Johann reasoned. Dozens of citizens were gathered along the walls of the room, well out of the way of being in the way of the meeting going on.
Most had gathered soon after word of the short, but impressively wide stranger’s exploits were made public. And with some subtle, and largely non-intrusive probing from Yvonne had verified his abilities and exploits. Probably. She had said that the occasions in question were very hazy, and followed the imbibing of extreme amounts of alcohol. Well. At least it was unlikely dwarves had died from fighting some sort of drunken illusion, right? One could hope, else they were in for a bad time when they actually went up against the dragon.
The dwarf in question, though, was not exactly what Johann had imagined a dragon slayer to be. He had expected an impressive dwarf, tall for his kind, with heavy armor and a large shield.
Instead, before him was a short, grouchy-looking drunkard smelling of days-old alcohol and death, with little more than old clothes, a chainmail jacket, and a couple of hatchets made from some sort of animal bone. He tried his best not to offend their honored guest with any of his observations.
After all, they needed him.
“So. Master Ghergon, how do you intend to take down the dragon?”
Finally, the dwarf perked up, grinned slightly. “Ah, that’s easy. All we haveta do is lure ‘er out, shoot at ‘er ‘till she lands, and then stab ‘er to death.”
“…..” There was a stunned silence in the room.
“….while drunk.” the dwarf finished, almost as an afterthought.
“Surely, you jest.”
“Nay! Of course, there’s a few more steps ta it, laddie, but that’s about that.”
“And, uh, you needed a crew?”
“Aye. A dozen good lads who can shoot straight when hammered. An’ shiny pants over there.”
He motions over his shoulder at Uther, who seemed to be splitting his attention between what the dwarf said, and the drow at his side.
Johann frowned slightly, but nodded.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll ask for volunteers.”
The dwarf nodded. “Aye, ye do tha’. But donae wait too long. Dragon ain’t gonna wait. ‘Sides, it’s a wonder tha beastie havenae attacked again. Usually the scales sweep ‘round every few days. Could be any day now. Normally durin’ noon. Dunno why, but dragons like noon. Hatin’ dawn an’ dusk.” He scratched his unkempt beard, and nodded to himself.
“Aye, an’ I’ll need a few tools. Ye got any alchemists an’ blacksmiths? Also. Ah saw some ballistae ridin’ in. Imma need a couple a’ those, too.”
“Very well, Eyla? Have the ballistae prepared for transport. Freidrich, show master Ghergon to Fidget’s workshop. Uther, I’d like to discuss our options.”
Uther nodded as the other two moved into action. Johann took a deep breath, whispering a short prayer for Leto to grant him strength.
The room smelled bitterly of the oils as she worked. The wood in her hands took on a distinctly darker color as she treated it; even after drying. It was a bad smell altogether, and her gloves were sticky. Discolored. Too bad, they had been nice and blue. She liked blue. She put down the wooden board she had been working with, standing up. It needed time to dry for the next round of tests, and she had none to waste.
“Karl! I need a boost!”
The large blacksmith slowly walked over as she waited, impatiently tapping her foot as her gaze flickered from her objective to her assistant. The jar was far too high up, despite her specific and clear instructions for it to be placed within reach. Eventually large hands grasped her around the waist, and lifted her into the air with ease. She grasped the jar.
“Thank you, Karl, now down please.”
One thing the teachers had always stressed was manners. Especially when people did things for her. Well, it was inconvenient and time consuming at most occasions, but she tried her best with Karl. After all, she wasn’t strong enough to forge her inventions herself. Well, that was bound to change, she figured as she popped the lid of the jar open, and descended on the unfortunate cookies inside with ravenous hunger. Thinking and tinkering was hard work. A genius needed to keep her brain fed. She was on her third cookie as Karl put her down on the ground.
The door swung open, and the smell of her experiments mingled with new scents. Alcohol, decomposition, sweat, and some sort of sap she didn’t recognize. Odd. She knew the smell of all the trees in the area. She spun around, only to see a man standing in the doorway, the same height as her! Who’d have thought? Well. He was easily five times as wide. And such a BUSHY BEARD! The world never ceased to impress. He was followed by Johann. One of the elite knights. Boring, but dependable. Reminded her of a dog. She liked him. Dogs are nice. And fluffy. Best thing.
“This is Fidget, our inventor. And Karl, our blacksmith.” Johann was the first to speak, and as Fidget walked over to the new arrivals, the grown ups were exchanging nods. Popping another cookie into her mouth, Fidget walked laps around the short man. She had heard of such creatures before. Dwarves. She hoped she wasn’t going to grow up to be a dwarf. Unlikely. Pretty sure things didn’t work like that. Not sure, though. She had heard of people who stopped growing around her height, but none had been so wide. As far as she knew. This was so exciting! And what was this? Axes with heads made out of some sort of bone? Strange. Bone wasn’t a good material for weapons. Too brittle. Not heavy enough. She had to investigate.
“This wee lass is the inventor? Ye foolin’ with me? Calm down lass, stop runnin’. Yer makin’ me dizzy.”
Fidget stopped right in front of the dwarf, leaned forwards, and squinting at him as she sniffed in the air. Yes, the dwarf was the source of the strange smells. Smelled a bit like Anders’ minions. Strange. He didn’t look like a necromancer. Just a very dirty dwarf.
“….she’s a peculiar one, ye?” the dwarf raised an eyebrow.
Fidget rolled back to stand on the balls of her feet, opening her eyes again, cradling the jar of cookies like a precious babe. Wonder what they wanted? Dwarves weren’t exactly common in Ashenvale. No dwarf slaves. No dwarf citizens. Except those that had grown up short. Did they count as dwarves? She had to pursue this line of inquiry later.
“So, lass, you think’ ye can whip up some stuff fer me?”
“Easily. Just tell me what you need. I don’t do magic, though.”
The dwarf started producing small parchments from his pockets.
“Alright, lass. I need ye to make me some distraction powder. What we’ll need is sulfur, charcoal, and potassium nitrate…”
The crack made the small girl jump slightly. Gherg was impressed with her quick fingers and skillful handling of chemicals, so when she had asked how the powder was used, he felt obliged to show her. For such a little thing, she had so many questions.
The powder was then to be placed inside a tube, which was then shot into the air to disorient the dragon. It was a convenient invention that dwarven explorers had found far away to the east, where they used it to put on colourful aerial displays, or so it was said. These, on the other hand, were to be colorless. Just a big bang and smoke was all they needed, anyway. Another reason for the dragon to land.
Having now verified their results, he carefully moved the two bags of the stuff over to his cart. When he turned around to thank the dimuitive inventor, he saw that she still stood there, mouth agape, and eyes transfixed at the spot of the miniature explosion.
“Lass?”
Suddenly, it looked as if a torch had been lit behind the girl’s eyes.
“SO MANY POSSIBILITIES!” She suddenly burst out, and before Gherg had the option to question her on it, the door to the workshop slammed shut behind her.
Gherg stood there for a moment, then shrugged.
Ah wonder what passes for beer in this place He thought to himself. It would be a while until the barbed ballistae-bolt tips he had requested from the blacksmith were going to be done, after all. Might as well get a little something to drink, after all, he was parched.