- Chapter 8 -

Eight Ways From Sunday

[Deghwahrum - The Dwarven Capital City]

In the depths of a hollowed-out mountain, a pair of Dwarfs silently made their way through the sprawling city of Deghwahrum. One of them summoned the courage to broach a sensitive topic. “He was ranting… and raving,” Malake timidly offered, eyeballing Brodfram, trying to gauge his reaction before he felt it safe to continue. “Apparently we’ve angered the gods and need to appease them…”

“When isn’t he?! When don’t we?!!!” Brodfram snapped- absolutely livid- holding back just enough of the anger in his tone to make the sarcasm evident. “Sinner this, sinner that. It’s never ending with him. I swear by Odin's beard that I’m going to wrap my stubby fingers around his neck one of these days.”

“I’m just warning you,” Malake stammered. “This council meeting isn’t going to be one of the good ones...”

Brodfram snorted as he glowered at something unseen. “When have any of the meetings been pleasant in recent years? I know I’m not bring any good news to the table, you...” A glance to his side and shake of the head told Brodfram that neither was Malake. After a flash of depression, this confirmation only fuelled his anger. “Of course not! We’re fucked from so many directions I’ve lost count.” Brodfram cursed.

With nowhere to relieve his anger, it only served to speed up his gait. Malake struggled to match pace. The conversation dead, they continued on their way, moving towards the imposing building in the distance.

***

In a large but sparsely furnished room sat seven Dwarves at a round table. Quiet murmurs and hushed conversation polluted the room as a select few Dwarves seemed content to talk amongst themselves. Snippets of conversation drifted into Brodframs ears one after another.

"...I just don’t why he did that…" one Dwarf complained.

"Drown me in ale, Thradreac! Have you just finished a battle? You smell terrible. Don't even get me started on how you look," Said another.

“Shut your mead hole!” Thradreac growled and refusing to take part in the bickering any longer by pointedly ignored any further comments.

“…hear that you may have a new earth-attribute hammer in stock…”

Brodfram fumed as he took in the head-in-the-sand mentality, the blatant disregard. “Enough with the pleasantries. You all look like shit, spit it out.” Brodfram barked, earning several death glares as the murmurs halted in their tracks. Brodfram looked around the room, pointedly meeting each one. He was a little surprised to find that Barthine, that lunatic, was staring off into space. Why isn’t he taking this opportunity to take a few shots at me? I was sure he hated my guts, Brodfram wondered.

Irritated, Akgrul rebuked, “Show some manners, Brodfram. The council meeting has only just started. There is nothing wrong with catching up with our peers.”

“We are in dire straits, manners are about as necessary as sugar on shit.” Came Brodframs swift retort.

Half interjecting, half to himself, Mufar said, “Sugar is arguably never more necessary than when it’s on shit.”

Thradreac was the first to reply to the question, saying, “The raids are only getting worse.” Ignoring the frowns, he continued, “They’re probing us, testing our strength. I’m sure of it.”

“What do we have to fear from some savages? I say we gather our armies and crush them.” Akgrul offered.

“You fool!” Thradreac raged. “If it was that simple they wouldn’t have been a thorn in our side for so long- or even at all. With everything that’s happening it’s clear to me that these raiding parties of assorted monsters are doing so at the behest of a third party... or parties.”

“You’re just getting paranoid in your old age, Thradreac.” Akgrul sneered.

“All these monsters working together is normal to you, is it? These are wild monsters we’re talking about- not Dungeon monsters! And that’s not even mentioning that fact that all this activity is happening on the border with them no less? Not finding that suspicious is almost as ridiculous as taking our armies out of the safety of the city to battle on the surface!”

Akgrul moved to defend himself, but Mufar beat him to the punch, saying, “The Parvenu Empire have always coveted our lands.”

“What the hell for!” Brodfram examined. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for another verbal bout before-

“ENOUGH!” A voice thundered. All eyes moved to the source- the head of the table.

“Forgreth-” Akgrul started.

“I SAID ENOUGH!” Eyes sweeping the room Forgreth solemnly spoke, “As the Head of this Council I am officially requesting your reports- from all of you. And I will not have you belittle this nation's crisis- crises.” Finished, Forgreth sat down and waited. His face didn't give away even a hint of emotion.

Surprisingly, Malake was the first to stand. Head slightly bowed he spoke. “Malake- Master of the Adventurer's Guild Union, reporting.” His tone, originally laced with pride, had all but faded in its enthusiasm as he continued with his next sentence. “The...er… The numbers are down this year… again.” Shuffling slightly, Malake followed up with, “A few curious adventures seeking expertise in evaluating weapons and the like have ‘bolstered’ the numbers but not enough to offset the amount that are leaving…. In all honestly, the majority of the adventures that remain are essentially retired or on the verge of doing so.” Agitation was clear on the faces of all present and by the end of Malake's report many were ready to burst into conversation but Forgreth’s penetrating gaze stifled all movement. Seeing Forgreth’s silence, Malake sat down.

Brodfram chose this moment to give his report. Standing he said, “Brodfram- Overseer of the Mines, reporting. It has come to light that previous results from the most recent prospecting operations were false positives.” Forgreth’s gaze or no, exclamations of shock and horror broke out. Cutting through the commotion Brodfram said, “With this revelation, it is necessary to revise the earlier estimate downwards and place the operational functionality of the mines at just a few months.”

“What-” Mufar started, rising from his seat.

“NEXT!” Forgreth bellowed.

Not daring to refute, Mufar sat back down in his seat.

“Thradreac- High Commander, reporting. The raids upon our outpost along the border with the Parvenu Empire have seen a sudden spike in both frequency and combat prowess. There have also been sightings of enemies near our trade route to the Sayadance Kingdom.” Mufar visibly paled at the mention of this.

Mufar sighed as he got up. “Mufar- Head of the Merchant Union, reporting. Trade with the Sayadance Kingdom has become increasing difficult in proportion with the decreased output of the mines. With less and less to sell they do fetch higher prices… however this has only fuelled rumours.”

For the first time Forgreth inquired for details, “Mufar, you have the most contact with the outside world out of any of us. Tell me, what rumours have you heard?”

“Well, there are rumours circulating that we are intentionally restricting the sale our wares to inflate the prices.” After a brief pause, apparently steeling himself he spoke, “There are murmurs the Parvenu Empire is preparing for war.”

“Truly?”

“Yes… and… and, well, there are also rumours of us hoarding vast amounts of resources.” Mufar wilted slightly under the increased intensity of Forgreth’s gaze. “And… and there are rumours that... that we control a relic that gives us dominion over Dungeons.”

Seething with rage, Thradreac spat, “These rumours are absolute folly! These lies are no doubt the work of the Parvenu Empire!”

“To what end?” Questioned Brodfram.

“We will discuss the reports when they have all been heard- silence.” Forgreth interrupted. He then turned to Akgrul.

“Akgrul- Head of Infrastructure, reporting. Internal building developments have hovered at previous levels… however, external requests and foreign projects… remain non-existent.” Taking in the bigger picture, Akgrul’s report was almost a relief. Brodfram looked to the last council member that had yet to make a report and felt his hairs rising. It didn’t matter what the others reported, Barthine always managed to work it into his ‘report’- which he just took as an opportunity to preach.

“Barthine- Head of The Sanctified, reporting…. All is well.” Barthine unceremoniously sat back down. Silence engulfed everyone like a tsunami. Eye’s wide and mouths agape, six Dwarfs started at one. Brodfram couldn't fathom what was happening, he studied Barthine’s face and tried to read his emotions. I have no idea what he’s feeling. Or what he is thinking. As long as I have known him, I’ve always ignored him as much as possible. Brodfram looked to Malake.

Noticing, Malake just shrugged and whispered, “I tell you, yesterday he was going absolutely nuts.”

Brodfram focused his attention back on Barthine, ready to interrogate. If anyone had told him yesterday that he would have willingly engaged with conversation with Barthine he would have tossed that drunkard out of the pub for fear he had too much to drink.

However, his mouth was only halfway open before Forgreth cut him off, saying “In that case it is time to discuss our course of action. Firstly, trade with the Sayadance Kingdom. They are, essentially, our only trade partner- we cannot afford to lose them. Mufar, it is essential that you maintain friendly relations.”

“But how?”

“I will allocate you some weapons from the garrison to sell.”

“But Forgreth!” Thradreac shouted.

“What? You wish to keep weapons for Dwarf’s we don’t have? There has always been an excess amount of equipment gathering dust for as long as I can remember.”

“Forgreth, the cost to replace the equipment should we need it will not be worth the meagre benefits we stand to receive- and we do so arming a potential enemy no less!”

“Replace the equipment when we need it? You mean ‘if’ and you know as well as I do that that ‘if’ will never come to be, not for a long time. ‘Meagre benefits’ you say? Have you forgotten that we depend on the Sayadance Kingdom for food? Not to mention other goods we have no way to get our hands on. Maintaining a good relationship with them is essential for our very survival because if they decide to be our enemies, it wouldn’t have mattered how many weapons we didn’t sell them, you know what the end result would be.”

Thradreac looked frustrated as he tried and failed to think of a clever way to refute Forgreth’s reasoning but he couldn’t- by comparison to the Dwarven Kingdom the Sayadance Kingdom was a goliath. “It’s a risk,” Thradreac ventured.

“I know, but what do you want me to do?” Forgreth relied.

Relenting Thradreac said, “I understand.

Forgreth continued, “Mufar, with the profits I want you to purchase as much food as you can, non-perishables would be preferable. I know it will be more expensive but do it. However, leave some money aside for Akgrul. Akgrul, I want you to inspect of the defences of every city and use the money from Mufar to upgrade them as necessary in coordination with Thradreac. Malake I want you to notify other guilds that we will be posting exploration missions- looking for ore veins.”

Brodfram’s eyes went wide. “Even if they weren’t suspicious at first, which I doubt, they will soon find out that our mines are running dry!”

“Yes, two birds with one stone. Firstly, it will help our search for new deposits of ore and secondly adventures often have big mouths...”

“This is tantamount to telling the world we are weak!” Thradreac rasped, trembling.

Forgreth sighed. “That’s the point. We are weak, and, honestly, our only advantage is that we are resource poor. We want them to see us instead as an ally that could supply them with a talented workforce. This will hopefully be enough to dissuade any would-be invaders from invading; that it wouldn’t be worth the cost. Our agricultural output in scant, our mines are running dry and we have no Dungeons.”

Brodfram grimaced at those last words. Why are we so weak? Why are ALL our neighbours strong? Because we have no Dungeons. Haven’t for as far back as the records go… and no one has any clue as to why.