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.

Pacifica: Myria, Sallodesia, Stoinia • A1-0: Stoinian Star Kingdom • Aurora: Kingdom of Threnebor

(This post was last modified: 12-07-2020, 06:24 PM by Maverick.)

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Kingdom of Astjumreva,
Oakling Hills,
Oakdale

Thamlon strolled into the village as he went up and down on his hog. His pipe hadn't yet finished and so enjoyed the last few puffs as long as he could. The village had no walls and it looked like an ordinary village to him, but there was a catch to it. The closer he came to it, the more he realised that they weren't made for humans proportions. He'd heard tales of a strange rabbit folk in the Oakling Hills, but he never really believed any of them. His native city of Droic was far away by now and Dwarves mostly stayed within their mountains. Leaving the rest of the Kingdom in the care of men. Thamlon jumped off his hog and hitched it just outside the small inn. The inn was just beyond a bridge over the lake and a few of the Erangs houses covered in earth. Thimli snorted at him, a sign that he wanted food.
 

Oakdale, a small town of the Erangs.

"Don't ye worry lad, you'll get yer fud soon enough."

Thamlon secured his satchels from his hog and entered the inn. The giant rabbits sat their at tables in groups of around 8. They talked loudly and were drinking joyfully along with laughter and banter. Some were thumping a foot on the ground out of joy. The sight of these rabbits might have scared some, but Thamlon wouldn't have shown it. He went to the bar for he still needed to find a place to stay the night. An old male Erang with a white respectable moustache approached him.
 

The Green Drak Inn in Oakdale.

"What can I do for you Master Dwarf?"

"Master inn keeper, can I get miself a warm room for the night?"

"Sure, room four should fit in well with you Dwarves. It'll be one of your goldies."

Thamlon tossed the Erang an Aeri and picked up his bags again. Heading towards his room now, Thamlon waddled with his many bags and hit the wall several times. When he finally entered his room, he let all his bags fall making a loud thud spreading through the wooden floor. He took some food with to give it to Thimli. A large bread and some potatoes. His mount was a hog after all and he wouldn't need any fancy stuff. So Thamlon strolled down again, making a large noise with each step on the wooden stairs. Some of the Erangs might have thought that a boulder had come falling down the stairs, but is was no other than Thamlon himself. The Erangs began to notice the sluggish and broad dwarf who had passed their establishment. Thamlon threw Thimli's food just in front of him and the hog threw himself viciously at his food. Chewing it with an enormous hunger.

"There ye go laddie! See, no reason to panic ye wee bastard. Tho ye still smell like ye bathe as much as ye shave!"

As Thamlon decided his mount had enough, he entered the inn again. For he was thirsty after all. But as soon as he opened the door, one of these rabbit folk startled him. The white rabbit was looking at him with a wide small. His ears were turned to him. Thamlon figured it must an indication of attention. Before Thamlon could ask, the speaking rabbit beat him to it.
 

Mr. Buster Thumperson, an Erang businessman.

"Greetings Master Dwarf. I'm Mister Buster Thumperson. I take it the Green Drake Inn is to your liking?"

"Aye, tho it could use a bit more noise."

"Ah, all in good time Master Dwarf. Might I inquire as to what brings you here?"

"Why should it be the business of a carrot-muncher eh?"

"I see your people's rugged reputation is well deserved. But please Master Dwarf, I'll have none of it. We both want something in common."

The Erang then grabbed a golden coin from one of his pockets. Thamlon couldn't resist but stare at it as Thumperson twisted it in his paw.

"You see Master Dwarf I think we can help each other. Don't you agree?"

"I see we're on the same pickaxe. All right, say what you have to say Master Thumperson."

"I hear you are master blacksmiths. I take it you know these fine arts as well."

"Ah good. I have need for your expertise. You see, I'm a renowned business man here. I own the local brewery and one of our distilleries has broken down. If the reputation of the Dwarves is as good as they say, I'm sure you can repair it and it'll never break down. What say you? You'll be well compensated."

Thumperson grabbed his golden coin again and let its glare lure the Dwarf. He also sniffed his evermoving nose from left to right. The rabbit was indeed curious.

"Aye."

"Good Master Dwarf. I'll expect you tomorrow to pass at Thumperson Brewery Inc.. It's just over the hill to the north, you won't miss it!"

"Aye, I'll be there."

"As for tonight Master Dwarf, enjoy it. The beers are on me. Be sure to taste our carrot ales we make at my brewery."

As the rabbit was about to turn around, he added one more thing.

"Ah, you mentioned the inn could do with a bit more noise?"

"Aye."

Thumperson turned around and thumped a few times on the wooden floor.

"All right you bunnies! Let's welcome our new Dwarvish friend and give him a real Erangs reception! A round for the whole house!"

Cheers and thumps took over the inn. The noise had become nearly deafening, but Thamlon managed just fine. Just then the Inn's staff began to bring out ales to everyone including Thamlon. The Erang customers began to sing a refrain over and over until everyone had received an ale.

Hippity hoppity, get your ale!
Hippity hoppity, don't spill a drop!
Hippity hoppity, don't let it go stale!
Hippity hoppity hoppity hop!

"This is more like it!"

Thamlon shouted and sat with the nearest table full of rabbits. He'd join them for the night. He took a large gulp from his ale. It had undoubtedly a carrot taste, but its bitter nature more than compensated it for Thamlon. As the rabbits began to hop around and on the table while singing songs, Thamlon opened up to these talking rabbit folk. He'd spend the rest of the night singing alongside them and occasionally headbutting a few. It was after all, a Dwarvish sign of friendship when alcohol was involved.

Pacifica: Myria, Sallodesia, Stoinia • A1-0: Stoinian Star Kingdom • Aurora: Kingdom of Threnebor

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