This thread follows the adventure of a Dwarf looking to gain wealth abroad with the riches he made and his service as both a mercenary and blacksmith. His journey will take him towards the Kingdom of Astjumreva, a historic trade partner of the Kingdom Threnebor. From there he might even set sail towards the northern continent and gain a taste for adventures. Who really knows? Joining this journey is always an option, but be sure to ping me on Discord first

Kingdom of Threnebor,
Lord's Halls of Gorlum

Thamlon, son of Thimlon, was your classical Dwarf. Eager to expand his wealth with the riches his family had made back in his home city of Droic, the Dwarven city in the Iron Highlands. His War Pig, a giant even for Mihrbar Pig standards, was packed with weapons and goods. For the hog was lucky to have his giant size, for smaller hogs would have long succumbed to the weights through such a long and hard journey. Two bags of Zikhili (silver coins) and Aeri (golden coins) were also amongst the weights the pig has to carry, for one could never have too much money on such a journey. Although a rather modest sum within Dwarf terms, it surely would raise an eyebrow in the poor folks of the Kingdom of Astjumreva, a long trade partner of the Dwarven Kingdom. As the pig swayed closer to the Halls, Thamlon eventually hitched it to one of the merchant stalls as he set out to but more food supplies. Maybe even some of those fame Oakling Hills ales... He entered a food shop, run by an old Dwarf who no longer could hear properly so he used a horn to amplify his hearing.

"Master Merchant, dae ye have any good bread and salted meat for a travelling Dwarf?"

The old Dwarf stood up.

"By Thronurin's beard, ye'll have to speak louder for mi hearin' isnae what it used to be."

Thamlon took a deep breath before shouting the same. This time the merchant heard him loud an clear.

"All righty, no need to start shoutin' laddie. I got here ten pounds of bread and five of salted pork meat. Will that suffice for the laddie?"

"Aye! It'll dae!"

"Well, well... That brings the price tae three zikhili."

"Say, ye have any of that fancy Oakling Hills ales!?"

"Aye, of course! Just got a fresh batch yesterday for ya. Though it will be pricey as it's the finest in the entire Oakling Hills."

"How much ye want for it!?"

"Half a zikhil."

"What!!? Half a zikhil, dear Master Merchant, I may be from Droic, but I'm no foul orc spawn!! Half a zikhil for two and be done with it!!"

"All righty, laddie. No need to make such a fuss! Here ya go!"

Thamlon knew the merchant had tried to scam him, though he clearly wasn't capable for a proper settle for a deal. For when Dwarves disagree on a price, they usually head butt another until one of them gives up. Such practices were common and many Dwarves came home with a bruises now and then. Just normal Dwarven things if you asked any of them. Thamlon had hired a room in the local tavern as he wanted to give his pig a good rest before setting out for his journey. He enjoyed the company of the customers there and spent a little too much coinage on the famed ales of Oakling Hills. Well no better way to prepare for a journey than with a good party in a tavern!

Kingdom of Threnebor,
Oakling Hills,
Border of the Kingdom of Threnebor

The following morning, rather late as the Oakling Hills ales were stronger than Thamlon's usual, Thamlon set out towards the border. Through the many hills he travelled and didn't bother to admire the view, for everyone knew a Dwarf's home is deep beneath the mountain. But as he travelled he saw more and more humans and children playing on the streets. One of them had accidently tossed their leather ball a little to close to Thamlon's hog, Thimli, and it ate their leather ball. Such was life when you came in the way of a Dwarf and these border folk better remember that these still were Dwarven lands. It took him a whole day to travel the oak forests and at the early evening he had arrived at the end of the forests. From here on was the Kingdom of Astjumreva and he could already see some smoke from a nearby village. To celebrate it, he took out his wooden carved pipe and put some pipeweed in it. A toast to a succesfull journey.