“To some of you I spoke of my past before, if only in part. To others, I spoke not at all.” Brom started.

He looked very much like what Jack imagined a proper dwarf looked like, in that moment. Spine straight, frowning and speaking with a deep graveling voice. He imagined Brom must have been steeling himself for this moment. Preparing. Indeed, he must have done what needed to be done, for there was not much wariness in his voice. Only resignation and tiredness.

“My home is in the mountains next to the kingdom of Amenor. I was born in a dwarfhold, called Nemarin-Dum. It was a large and old settlement, older than its neighboring kingdom. Old enough that other dwarven settlements had splintered off from it, searching their own path inside the mountain. And in my dwarfhold lives three clans.”

Jack remembered this part. Brom told it to him before, when he explained the probable cause of the knight’s ire.

“The Gradun Clan was the dwarven lore-keeper. Charged with protecting the old ways. The Forgeborn were the artificers. Creators, forgers, sculptors and more. And my own Clan, the Mountainheart. We are the leader of a sort, charged with maintaining cohesion throughout the dwarfhold.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re some sort of a prince.” Ava joked.

“I am not, nor have I ever been.”

Which would have been nice of Brom hadn’t continued that line of thinking.

“I was, however, one of my dwarfhold’s champions.”

That increased the magnitude of their attention by some.

“A… champion?” Jack asked. “I think I know what it means, but just to be sure. What exactly does this mean for dwarfs?”

“It is a position of privilege. And responsibility. There is no set number of champions among dwarfs. They are selected based on need and skill. Each of us had a responsibility above all others, something we had to protect and watch over.”

Jack wanted to ask what that was when Mrk spoke up.

“How Brom become champion? Because from leader clan?”

“N- …I don’t know. If you had asked me before, I would have answered that question with a grim ‘no’. Today, I am not so sure. I am certain that being a Mountainheart had tilted the balance in my favor. However, I like to believe it was not all that. I carry a great deal of respect for my home and its values. I was skilled in combat and a hard worker. I believe… it was a mix of the two that allowed me to claim the position. Perhaps I would have claimed it in time as well, regardless of clan affiliations.”

“So, what did you champion as your cause?” Jack asked.

Brom hesitated for a second, before steeling himself again.

“If I tell you, I must have your word never to repeat what you hear here and now. You are my friends. I do not demand an oath, magical or not. But I ask for your word.”

Everybody nodded and gave their word. Even Ava, seeming to understand the seriousness of the situation.

“There are secrets to each species and each settlement the world over. Secrets that could affect the integrity or security or just pride of those groups, should they come out into the light. This is one of those secrets. After my dwarfhold went to war with the kingdom of Amenor, my people desired a method of reducing blood loss on our side. Not many dwarfs were killed, true, but for us even one dwarf was one too much.”

He was more serious now and there was a faraway look in his eyes.

“You have seen the dungeon we bested. Seen the type of constructs my people are capable of creating even ages ago. Our inclination towards building things to fight in our stead is still present. A dwarf should only fight a real foe, they said. Dirt is to be met with dirt. Well, we had golems and other constructs, but they lacked thought. And without thought, they were easy to maneuver around, for all their might.”

“You tried to create sentient golems? Is that even possible?” Moran asked.

“I do not know. But no, I do not believe my kin tried to create sentience. I do not believe we have ever been able to do that, even in the age of wonders. No, the truth lies in the middle. The truth is… you have seen my new Skill, yes? How I have already started to take on the properties of the mountain. What you don’t know is that most dwarfs received such Skills. Even those who do not possess combat Classes. They receive them at higher levels, true, but a Level 20… say, |Baker| receiving a |Rock Skin| Skill for its hands it almost normal. Or a |Seductress| receiving |Marble’s Shine| Skill.”

“Wait, wait? Dwarfs have a |Seductress| Class?” Ava asked. “Don’t look at me like that, I was serious until now and I was listening. But… I’m just shocked. Really?”

Brom somehow managed to look understanding.

“I understand my race is not known for our skill in romance. But yes, we do have such… Classes.”

“Huh.”

“You were saying, Brom?” Jack asked, trying to get the conversation back on the road.

“Yes. As I was saying, receiving Skills relating to the mountain or the ground or certain materials is common for dwarfs, even if not outright assured. Those among my kin who study such things speak of creation myths in our past and certain elemental affinities. As it is, it was they who launched an idea, which the artisans were eager to try. What would happen if one were to couple our natural gifts to our creations?”

“Uh…” Ava started and stubbornly kept talking even as every pair of eyes landed on her. “Question. When you mean couple, do you mean…”

“I mean imbuing golems with our life’s blood through magic and Skills.”

“…right. Yeah, totally thought that’s what you meant.”

“So, you were a champion of this cause?” Moran asked. “Of creating better golems?”

“No.” Brom tiredly said. “I was a champion of containing the unfortunate results.”

He took a deep breath and continued.

“Perhaps such a thing is simply not possible. Perhaps our collective skill was not enough. Perhaps… this is punishment for attempting things that should not have been attempted. I do not know. What I know is that what came out of that experiment was alive and… not like a dwarf at all. Some of my kin called them a proto-dwarf. An early version of us. I do not believe it. Those creatures were as tall as we are, though they usually hunch. Their skin is rock and crystal, yet there is flesh underneath that. They can absorb any material and indeed feed on such, though they will eat anything. But more importantly, they are not intelligent. They are beasts! The only time they are ever content is when they are heavily fed and those times they use to breed continuously.”

Brom looked almost angry now.

“They should have been destroyed, but my people are efficient as a rule. Vast resources were invested in this project. They did not want it let go to waste. Some kept these creatures for further study. Others proposed to use them for mining and clearing out infested areas. Some even proposed we use the for fighting since they seemed to view everything in sight as potential prey. Even monsters.”

“But… could your people have used them?” Jack asked. “I mean, could they be trained?”

“I do not believe so, though at the time I thought we could. There are advantages to them. They can live on almost anything. They breed fast and die hard. They can absorb metal and rock, eat it too. How can you fight an opponent who simply eats your weapon? That is why we kept them, in a secluded and warded part of my dwarfhold. And I was tasked with ensuring the protection of my kin from them and ensuring the Drag population is managed.”

“Drag?” Mrk asked.

“It is what we called them. Better not ask what it means.”

Mrk nodded and everyone else remained silent. They all knew where the story was headed. Brom did too and though he visibly disliked continuing, he did it anyway.

“The Champion of the Drag. What foolishness. At the time, I thought it the most important task of all. I was both the warden and keeper of my kin’s most horrible creation. The defender of the dwarfhold.” He laughed. “Fool. Regardless, I have received this Class when I had a much higher level in my |Axe Guard| Class. I did not receive the |Champion| Class, but very few received it right away. Thus, I had served my duty, for over two years. In that time, I had grown arrogant. I was of a high level for my age. I had an enviable position. Why should I not be arrogant, though at the time I called it simply pride.”

He stroked his beard, eyes closed for a second. When he opened them, he seemed sad and amused at the same time.

“That was when the Gradun approached me. You see, they had never entirely moved over the war with Amenor. They were the ones to hand out the gravest of punishments for the human’s folly, yet still they were not satisfied. And they viewed the Drags as an abomination. In their eyes, it was a mockery of what it is to be a dwarf. They hated it and they hated the humans for continuing to exist after provoking us. They viewed it as a sign of weakness. Normally, as is their way, they thought it logical to extinguish one problem with the other.”

He gave out a small bitter laugh.

“And I was fool enough to agree. Their plan was to release the Drags onto the humans. They had managed to secure a tunnel, stretching from the creature’s lair to an exit from the mountain. All they needed was someone with access to the wards. And what better someone than Brom the Champion?”

“So, that’s why they cast you out.” Jack said. “You broke your orders and unleashed the Drags on Amenor.”

“I broke my orders.” Brom nodded. “But those beasts never made it out of the mountain. Once I released them, they moved on to the closest food source available. The Graduns thought they could contain them, direct them to a ‘worthy’ target. They failed. Once the beasts were free, they burrowed through the stone until they reached a normal settlement. They slaughtered everyone there.”

His hands were shaking, though whether in rage or sorrow Jack did not know.

“By the time I understood my folly and finally alerted the others, the Drag’s were halfway to the next settlement. We caught them in time, with only minimal losses being suffered by the second settlement. But then they turned on us. My kin suffered… heavy casualties. Only when we brought artifacts and magic to the front, did we start to turn them back. But you see, they are not intelligent. They do not care for one another. They do not behave like a group. So, they split off.”

One more deep breath and he continued. He was speaking faster now, more intense.

“Some hit our dwarfhold, attacking children or elders. Easy targets. Some burrowed deep into the mountain, looking to breed. My kin are still finding pockets of them to this day. Some headed towards the remaining settlements or continued to attack the warriors sent after them. And some had escaped outside the mountain, never to be seen again.”

He stopped for a second and raised his head, looking them in the eye.

“That was the result of my folly. Many dwarfs dead, monsters hidden both outside and inside the mountain. A continuous unexpected threat that is improbable to be ever fully stamped out. A massive waste of resources. A civil war. And a broken oath.”

“Wait, what?” Jack asked, shocked. “What do you mean a civil war?”

Brom smiled, as if amused by some joke and answered.

“Should I have done all of that out of stupidity, I would have been reprimanded, stripped of my rank, but I would not have been cast out. But it was not out of stupidity. I had broken my oath. And the Gradun Clan had knowingly persuaded me to break it.”

Jack remembered how deeply Brom cared about oaths. How he viewed them as almost sacred.

“I have told you, Jack. Mrk. Dwarfs view oaths so much deeper than a promise. An oath is a bargain on which you place your very soul. Your… personhood. It is everything to us. And an entire clan decided that their vengeance and opinion was more important than what we held so dear. The other two clans called them not-dwarf for that. Normally, the Graduns, as lore-keepers of what it is to be dwarf, took that as sufficient reason to go to war. I was jailed, shortly after the situation was resolved. I was jailed for two months and it was only after I was released that I understood why it took so long for the elders to reach a conclusion. It was because they had better things to do.”

He passed a hand over his face, as if to shield himself from them.

“This… war. It killed almost two times as many dwarfs as the Drags did and all of them from my dwarfhold. The Graduns had almost been eliminated as a Clan, the only survivors being elders and children, who bent the knee with hate in their eyes. Even now my kin are at odds with each other, peace only being kept by the strong imbalance in force. And with the Graduns having received their punishment in blood, it was time for me to receive mine as well.”

His hand lowered and they all saw the tears in his eyes.

“I had time to think in that cell. Time to understand why I had been a fool. Yet that understanding was nothing compared to what I felt when I saw the effects of my folly. I gained the Class then. I became an |Oathbreaker| even before the elders spoke the first word of their sentence.”

“Wait… you were offered the Class… and you accepted it?” Ava asked.

Brom nodded.

“It was the only right thing to do. The only thing I could do and even that is not enough. The elders seemed… satisfied by my understanding of what I have done. For this self-punishment. As if I did it for their satisfaction… They ruled that I was to be cast out. That I may never return. Should I ever relearn honor, other dwarfhold may take me in, but never them. They would not forget.”

He was crying now. Silently, yet continuously. Tears were streaming down his beard.

“That… is my story. That is how I gained my Class, after unleashing nightmares on my kin and almost breaking apart my home. That is why I do not deserve to be among them… and perhaps not among you.”

Jack wanted to comfort his friend and from the way Mrk was jerking forward he wanted to as well. They never got the chance as Ava got up from the table and walked straight up to him.

“Now you listen here!” she angrily said, grabbing him by the beard and dragging him towards her. “What you did sucked! And you were a dwarf sized shit for bringing misery and disaster to your own people!”

Brom flinched, but didn’t speak. Jack almost opened his mouth, when Moran placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him.

“But! But, you stupid big-hearted dwarf, that was in the past! The. Past. Just- just FUCK the past, alright? You were a shit, I was a shit, we’re a group comprised of mostly formerly-shits. So what? That’s not who you are now. You saved our asses so many times and you’re always the one keeping serious and… you are not an oathbreaker! Not any longer. Fuck what your Class says. You- UGH! Brom, you are our friend!”

And after saying that, she hugged him. Fiercely, as if she was a little mad at him for having her do this. But by the way she was slightly convulsing, Jack learned that she had started to cry as well.

Those words she said… I think she meant them as much for herself as for him…

Moran was there the next second, hugging the both of them.

“Brom.” Jack said, moving forward. “You’ve done wrongs in the past. But you’re making amends. And you’ve made an oath to me, remember? To guard and protect me and us. This oath, Brom, you’re fulfilling the shit out of it! Even when your life was on the line, you fought to carry out your oath. Like Ava said, it doesn’t matter what your Class says. To us, you’re not an oathbreaker. You’re an oathkeeper.”

And Jack hugged Brom as well, at the same time as Mrk. Only when the four of them were atop him, did Brom finally allow himself to break down and cry, gasping for air as if it was the most precious thing in the world to him. Though, to be honest, the real 'most precious thing' in the world they had already given him and they kept on giving.

He hadn't gotten over his past. Not yet. But Brom finally honestly felt that though he did not have a dwarfhold, he had a home. And a family.

|Class Level Decreased: Oathbreaker|

|Class Level: 5|

***

The next morning, Jack woke up feeling… unencumbered. That was a strange word to describe a morning, but it fit. He felt like the load on his back had decreased, if only by just a little. Threat was looming on the horizon, but they were back home, at the right place to stand in its way. And their group never felt more united. It seemed that Brom’s confession of his past sins helped forge the bonds between them even stronger.

And that could be seen most of all in Brom. The dwarf had lightened up over the past several weeks, compared to how he was when Jack and Mrk had first met him. But now he was so much better. He wasn’t beaming or anything. Jack privately thought dwarfs were incapable of that, but he wasn’t grouchy or wary, even though, ironically enough, the current situation might have warranted such emotions.

Since they all got woken up before dawn by one of Maleh’s soldiers, telling them his commander required them on the field.

They all woke up and got dressed quickly. Courtesy of Elia, they now all wore chainmail, except for Ava, who only wore leather. And that was only on her torso, since she claimed it chaffed against her fur. She might have only done that to tease Moran with her partial ‘nudity’, Jack wasn’t sure. Still, it was a group of five armed and armored adventurers that left the house.

And almost stopped in shock. Since it seemed that everyone but them was already up. A crowd had gathered outside their house and from the looks of them, the villagers were also geared up for war. As best as they could, anyway. The men carried pitchforks and axes, while the woman carried kitchen knives and frying pans. They wouldn’t be the ones to fight, not ideally. But should the fight come to them, they looked ready to answer violence with violence.

The sun had not raised yet, so there wasn’t that much light outside yet. Even so, when the crowd saw them, cheers went up in the air. ‘Heroes of Helmrest’, they screamed. ‘Refuge’s Adventurers’, ‘Ogre’s Bane’, ‘Jacks’. That last one amused Jack to no end. They passed through the crowd, on their way to the gathered troops, but a couple of villagers attracted their attention, screaming the loudest.

“That’s my boy!” an elderly man cheered. “That’s my son!”

“Be careful, Moran! Don’t go near the frontlines.” A woman shouted. “We’re very proud of you!”

When they turned questioning look at the young man, he timidly explained the situation.

“My parents.” He clarified. “No one in my family had a Class for… a few generations. When I’ve told them, they were so happy you’d think I’d married a noble’s daughter.”

“Noble’s daughter, huh?” Ava laughed. “So, when am I going to meet them?”

“Presuming we’re all coming back from this, I’ll have you all over for dinner.”

They made little small talk after that until they reached the gathered forces outside Helmrest. Commander Maleh had spread out his mounted soldiers in a straight line, with his mages and on-foot soldiers behind them. Behind them were Helmrest’s forces, first the mercenaries, then the villagers. Not even a hundred in total. A hundred versus Amenor’s two thousand.

It would have been good to get an answer about that from Elia. Jack knew they all hoped it wouldn’t come to blows, but one could never be sure of anything. Thankfully, Elia, Maleh and Nadun were all waiting for them.

“Good morning to you all.” Nadun greeted them.

They greeted them back before Jack took the initiative.

“Your soldier told us you wanted to see us. Is there anything we can help with?”

“No.” Maleh simply said. “All the preparations have been taken care of. We chose to let you all sleep as much as we could. We only called because Amenor’s forces will be with us shortly.”

“What?!” Jack asked, as shocked as the rest of his friends. “I thought they were still an hour or two away? Why didn’t you call for us sooner?”

“They sped up for the final stretch. As for the ‘why’, I told you. It’s more beneficial for you all to be rested than to mill around here.”

Jack supposed Maleh was more experienced, but his relaxed attitude still made him weary.

“There are some things I was meaning to ask about all… this.” He said, vaguely gesturing at the assembled soldiers.

“Not getting cold feet, are you?” The man laughed.

“No. Elia, why aren’t we waiting behind the gates? Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to have a layer of defense between us and them?”

Elia’s eyes flashed towards Maleh, but she responded the next second.

“We thought about this. But after some discussion, Maleh’s option of all soldiers standing here made more sense. We need to project an air of authority. Hiding behind our gates will not accomplish that.”

“I get that. But this ‘air of authority’ only works if they’re actually amenable to be talked out of this.” Jack insisted. “If they attack, we’ll regret this move. And couldn’t we have prepared a few more protections? Like… trenches or- or spike traps? And-“

“Lad.” Maleh said, tone gone serious. “We didn’t prepare more defenses, for the same reason we are not standing behind walls. We do not want to look like we’re preparing for a battle. We want to look like the possibility of a battle doesn’t even exist for us. As if we couldn’t even fathom a power like theirs risk pissing off The Barony. Because, make no mistake, if they sense weakness and attack, we will lose.”

He said it like a judge handing out a verdict. There was no doubt in his voice.

“I know it seems stupid and counterintuitive. But think. We have a force of around fifty. Maybe we are higher in Level. I’m probably higher in level than their commander. Probably. But they have twenty times our number. This would be a contest between quality and quantity where quantity would wipe the floor with us.” He said, before sighing. “I do not like it. I do not like being out here, in the open. But our only chance is acting like we don’t even think about them and hoping they buy it.”

“I still don’t understand why Amenor so desperately wants Helmrest.” Nadun said, seeming to only be concerned with the puzzle and not his livelihood. “Perhaps it thinks it is an easy target?”

“You think they don’t know of our presence?” Maleh asked, surprised.

“No.” the mage shrugged. “I haven’t felt any scrying spells, but I doubt they do not know we are here.”

“Then they will most likely attempt a bargain.”

“What?” Jack asked, finally catching up. “They’re going to try and buy Helmrest from you?”

Jack thought Maleh was a pretty good guy, but he knew the man followed The Baron’s orders. And if The Baron decided he liked what Amenor was going to offer… The ‘adults’ must have seen the doubt on his face, because smirks appeared all around.

Maleh outright laughing.

“Don’t worry so much lad. The Baron already thought about this. Even if Village Head Elia here has her way and Helmrest manages to keep its independence, though I doubt it, a trade route with your village would still be more beneficial than what Amenor could offer. “

Elia got a peeved look on her face when Maleh seemed amused at the prospect of Helmrest’s independence, but otherwise seemed to agree with what he said. That calmed Jack down somewhat.

“I see.” Brom suddenly said. “Or at least, I believe I do. Then… Amenor will be quite upset.”

“Yeah.” The commander continued, sobering up. “Especially since The Baron mentioned not to contact him, in case Amenor wants to talk. He’s refusing to entertain them. And he already instructed me on how to answer their pleas, independent of any offers being made.”

“Oh. Can I ask what The Baron told you to tell them?” Jack inquired.

Maleh started to laugh again, instead of answering and even Elia seemed amused. It was Nadun, who had the good graces to answer the confused five, though he wore a smile as well.

“Out liege instructed Commander Maleh to tell them ‘No’ repeatedly, until they remember who their main and possibly sole trading partner is.”

Seemed like a rather Baron-like answer, but Jack didn’t have time to ponder that all too much since in the distance horns were beginning to be heard. They echoed and in seconds similar bells started to be rung, from atop Helmrest’s watchtowers.

It didn’t take long after that. Perhaps only a minute passed before Amenor’s troops crested the nearest hills and started to make their way down towards them. They weren’t following the road, since the road was too narrow. No, instead they advanced as a vast line of cavalry, with foot soldiers streaming behind them. An army so vast, that next to their small village, it seemed to fill out the horizon.

Banners could be seen raised, Amenor’s crest flying tall. The gauntleted fist could be observed even from this distance. Then, as one, every soldier that was able to thumped their armored fists against their equally armored chest plates, before raising them at the sky in salute.

The thump was loud enough to send a noticeable tremor through Helmrest’s own troops.

I so hope that was a greeting instead of something else.

Looking around, Jack saw that for all the levity they displayed before, everyone was now intensely focused. He couldn’t blame them.

Amenor had come.