Ultimate Level 1

Max stared in awe as the structural quality of each of the buildings inside Nomgrom was easily better than the ones he was used to back in Peltagow or Rumstant.

“I knew dwarves were good with stone, but is there a magical skill I’m not aware of that allows them to shape it like this?”

Batrire smiled and nodded, leading the group, tugging Fowl slightly as she pointed with her other hand.

“That building is one of the main breadmakers from the olden days. If I told you that it was over a thousand years old, what would you say?”

Staring as they walked, Max saw that even from a hundred yards, the building stood out, three times larger than most and rising over four stories while most others were only two.

The lines of the stone didn’t look worn at all, and the gray tone of them had flecks of something in it that sparkled as the sunlight caught off them. Even from this distance he could see the carvings upon it seemed lifelike, dozens of reliefs with dwarves baking and selling bread to people.

“I would say you’re lying, but I can tell you’re not.”

She nodded and turned her attention back in the direction she was walking.

“That is because a few classes specialize in a rare stone skill. Only the dwarves typically acquire it, but there has been one case where a human was said to have gained it. Elves likewise have a wood skill that allows them to do what they do with wood.”

“So is it like what I can do or different?”

“Different. It’s more of like… working with dough. You talk about baking and how you shape bread and can fit it into molds to make it look a certain way. They do the same thing. A small piece here or there can be added to fix some error when cutting or a potential weak spot, but they can’t just make it transform into a shape like yours.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t talk about this right now,” Fowl whispered as he tsked at her. “You notice a few people are listening.”

Their healer’s face went a little red as she turned and saw that some dwarves who were walking nearby had actually been paying attention, listening to the telling of their stone history.

“You can tell me later,” Max stated, nodding and admiring the city teeming with dwarves. “I’m still blown away by how many are here. My whole life when I grew up, I’d only seen a handful or maybe a dozen dwarves at the most before adventuring. Now I think I’ve only seen a dozen humans and one elf.”

“Three elves,” Cordellia joked as she pointed at Tanila and herself.

A loud shout came, and Max saw a cart lumbering down the road, a pair of horses moving at a quick pace. Before it was a small ball and a young dwarf who was barely two feet tall trying to get it as the cart raced down the road.

Dwarves started to shout, and the driver of the cart tried to slow down, the horses appearing unable to do as they wished. The traffic on the other side prevented the cart from getting over into the other side of the road to dodge the young child.

Without waiting, Max freed his arm, taking off as fast as he could.

It’s too far.

Not wanting to admit that Bob was right, the truth of the situation was he couldn’t make it there and grab the child in time by simply running.

[ Blink ]

He appeared next to the young dwarf, grabbed her, and leaped into the air, the horses plowing through the spot he had been standing in a second before. Their nostrils flared as the reins yanked each head back.

Bob was kind enough to form an air wall for Max, allowing him a place to jump off and land on the sidewalk, where a frantic mother was staring at him, her tears running down her cheeks and into her beard.

“My baby girl!”

Handing her the young child, who appeared to be in shock and yet had a smile on her face, the woman grabbed the dwarf and squeezed her tight.

“Again?”

Unable to help himself, Max laughed as the young dwarf held her arms out at Max and pointed at the sky.

“Again?”

“No, darlin’! You about got run over! I told you to stay close to me,” the mother chided them before turning and wiping a tear with a free hand. “Thank you!” 𝐑𝘢Ｎ𝘖ᛒЕȿ

Others were gathering, and a murmuring of dwarves was filling the area as each of them commented on what they had just witnessed.

Fowl and the others arrived, pushing through the small crowd on the sidewalk.

“Let us through!” Batrire shouted. “He’s our party member!”

Dwarves moved aside, allowing the group to move closer to Max and the mother, who had now rushed forward and was giving him a hug.

“Thank you… thank you!”

“I’m just happy I could help. Sorry about your ball.”

Both the mother and child turned and saw that on the street her ball had been run over by the horses, smashed flat.

A few sobs came, and the child began to tear up.

“Don’t cry,” Max said as he bent down, freeing himself from the embrace of the dwarven mother. “Here, I have something for you.”

A cupcake, covered in yellow frosting and with a candied lemon peel on top appeared in his hand.

Both brown eyes of the child locked on to the treat, the rain of tears halting as her mouth began to smack slightly.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Can I?”

“Gods… why not, at least she won’t cry.”

Grinning, Max gave the treat to the dwarf, who eyed it for another second before noticing her mother nodding that it was okay. Then like a ravenous wolf that hadn’t eaten in a week, the child tore into the cupcake.

Glad to have retrieved his hand before it potentially got bitten, Max winked and ruffled the brown hair on the girl’s head.

“Always causing a scene,” Fowl said as he patted his friend on the back. “Thank you.”

People began to pay attention to everyone gathered around Max, and a croaky old voice came from an older dwarf.@@novelbin@@

“Batrire? Batrire Lightbrew? Is that you?”

All five of them turned to see a male dwarf that looked like a few carts had run over him. His nose was broken, pointing sideways, and one of his eyes was most likely missing since a tattered leather patch covered an eye. Scars were on his face and wrinkled arms. Even with all that, his black beard was immaculate, glistening in the sunlight as he hobbled toward the group.

“Gatzer Drumbaldo?”

“It is you!” he exclaimed, coming to where their healer was and holding out his arms.

Batrire didn’t hesitate, moving quickly and giving the older dwarf a hug.

“What happened to you? You’ve gotten old?”

He roared with laughter, picking up their healer and spinning her around before setting her down.

Clearing his throat, he looked at their dwarven warrior and frowned.

“Fowl Hammerfall. It appears the prodigal dwarf has returned.”

“How are you, Gatzer?” Fowl asked, moving closer and holding out a hand. “Still drinking most dwarves under the table?”

The frown he had been wearing began to fade and the older dwarf sighed, taking the outstretched hand and gave it a shake.

“Well it is Wednesday… which means yes.”

Others in the crowd began to chuckle, and everyone but the mother and young dwarf dispersed.

“So tell me, girl, who be these with you? Judging by how that one moved, I’m guessing you all are in the tower?”

Almost beaming like a ray of sunshine, Batrire nodded.

“This is Max, our local hero; Tanila, our mage; and Cordellia, our ranger. Everyone, this is Gatzer… probably the richest dwarf in town, based on the amount of coins he spent at my parents’ place while I grew up.”

“Bah, why does everyone say that?”

“It’s because you never work, and all you do is drink,” Fowl said as he took Batrire’s arm and drew her close. “Only a rich dwarf can afford to sit around and drink every day.”

“Make good investments, and don’t overspend. That’s my motto… besides…”

Gatzer’s eyes landed on the ring on Batrire’s finger, and a slight frown showed through his beard for a moment.

“Engaged? Do your parents know?”

“Not yet,” Batrire replied. “We are on our way now to tell them the good news. We then need to head to Fowl’s parents and tell them the news as well.”

“Ogre nuts,” the dwarf cursed, spitting on the ground.

“Ogre nuts,” came a muffled mimic from the mouth of the child, struggling to chew the entire cupcake in her mouth.

“Curse again near my child, and I’ll drag you to my house and wash your mouth out!” exclaimed the brown-haired mother, who was now glaring at Gatzer.

“Gah, forgive me, woman! I didn’t see the child! I…” He glanced around and then motioned with his head a bit farther up the sidewalk. “I’ll be over here, waiting on these five to join me. Fowl, I need to tell you something.”

With that the dwarf moved off, leaving the party with a confused look as the mother never stopped glaring at the older dwarf until he was a bit away.

“Does every dwarf woman threaten to wash one’s mouth out?” Max asked, trying to change the mood.

“Gods, boy, you best learn that if you curse near a child, every mother around will be able to take you home and wash your mouth out. We don’t tolerate that kind of language around our young ones.”

Holding up his hands and waving them slightly, Max nodded.

“No worries, I’m not one known for saying things like that. Usually it’s only hair dw—”

An elbow from Tanila cut him off as the kindness the dwarven woman had shown him a minute ago changed, her same glare that Gatzer had received falling upon him.

“Who taught him that?!”

Fowl let out a whistle as his eyes darted around.

“Um… I’m going to go see what the old drunk wants. You ladies have fun.”

With that, their warrior took his escape, hurrying to where the patch-wearing dwarf was waiting.

“Perhaps I should go as well.”

“Perhaps you should,” Batrire said as she moved closer to the young girl’s mother.

“Forgive him, he doesn’t know.”

As Max made his way from the danger he sensed was far worse than some beasts, he could hear what the woman said.

“Who would teach a man such a filthy thing? I mean… only the ignorant would talk about another dwarf’s balls.”

Unable to help himself, Max started to chuckle and then laughed, speeding up his pace to get away from the quartet that was watching him.

“You’re going to owe me,” Max declared upon reaching his warrior friend. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that was such a bad thing?”

Chuckling, Fowl shrugged.

“It’s not a bad thing among dwarves or the other races unless you’re around children. That part…” His friend trailed off and winced. “Yeah, that was on me. I should have warned you about that part, for certain.”

Gatzer was frowning at the pair, and when both of them glanced at him the one-eyed dwarf gave them a stink eye.

“Fowl Hammerfall… you’re in for a rough ride. Like a drunk dwarf on a donkey, you better be prepared for what might come out of Jataic’s mouth. Ensure no child is within a mile of his place.”

“Jataic?” Max asked.

A sigh escaped his friend, both shoulders dropping slightly.

“Batrire’s father. He’s a… large dwarf.”

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