He fell into the snow as the dwarf slammed the hammer onto his chest. He felt the bones straining from the impact but there was no crack yet.

He wheezed as he tried to get his breath back, but Terrok wouldn’t leave him alone. He slammed his boot over an arm and dropped the hammer onto his bicep. A crushing weight hit him and the bone creaked again but no snapping or cracking.

“There are limits,” Terrok grumbled, staring down at him. His beard was bristling in frustration which the dwarf attempted to smooth out.

“Something came up,” Raylas gasped. He yanked on his arm but the dwarf’s weight was surprising. It was like he was stuck under a rock.

“Pray tell me what is so important ta scrap a dwarf’s hard work?” he asked. He took a hold of his hammer and started looking for another part of him to bruise.

Raylas growled. He had tried to punch the dwarf but the damn man’s skull felt like it was made of metal. His fist bounced off of it with the dwarf looking none the worse for wear, and in exchange his fingers throbbed painfully.

He looked the dwarf in the eye then flicked his gaze outward to the gathering crowd. The dwarf followed his gaze and his frown deepened. He stepped off of his hands and backed a few steps. Raylas scrambled to his feet and took a hold of his chain. The dwarf eyes his hands and smiled.

“Finally gonna take this seriously?” he asked. “No blades, just blunts. This is a fight of honor, not death.” The meaty knuckles cracked around the metal handle of the hammer. He took a stance and waited.

This was a fight, and that was one thing Raylas knew well. He was a warrior, and fighting was his specialty.

He pulled the chain taut and held it out. This was not his weapon of choice, but it was the best one he had for now. If only he had a nice polearm he could knock that dwarf out before he even got close.

Terrok smiled and leapt forward, swinging the hammer down with more force than before. If it hit something would definitely break.

He lept to the side and swung the chain around. It wrapped around the dwarf’s arm which pulled him to the side. Raylas yanked the chain down and the dwarf’s feet flew off the ground and into the air. The short man slammed noisily into the dirt with a thud which sounded like a falling wall.

He flicked the chain releasing the arm and then held it taut again.

“Not bad,” the dwarf chuckled as he bounced back to his feet. “But you won’ win with just that silly piece of string.”

He charged forward again with the hammer flying at Raylas’ head. Stepping to the side he skirted the swing of the weapon but then he felt himself get launched into the air, his breath forced out.

He glanced down and saw the dwarf’s fist where he spun to and the bastard’s cheeky smile. He fell for the feint like a novice. If this was a real fight he’d be dead.

He slammed into the wall of the house and gasped. He looked up to see a slab of metal flying toward his face and instinctually ducked down. The hammer crashed intot he wall raining bits of stone onto his head.

From below Raylas was right next to the dwarf. He could practically smell his sweat from his beard.

Leaping at the opportunity he stuck the dagger into the stone wall and threw the weight at an angle. The dwarf dodged to the side to avoid the blade and walked right into the spinning chain. It wrapped around the man and pinned an arm to him. The dwarf laughed and flexed, straining his muscles to break the chain.

But it held.

Terrok froze in surprise and tried again, but it held again. Raylas lept forward and wrapped his arm around the dwarf’s neck and started to choke, the short man just stood there.

“Hold it,” he said. “Just a time out for a moment.”

Raylas grunted as he strained his arms but the dwarf didn’t even gasp once. How thick were his muscles?

Admitting defeat again he let go and stood up. The dwarf unwrapped the chain and peered at it. His eyes widened and he shoved it into Raylas as he yanked the dagger from the wall.

“FightsOverHowAboutSomeDrinks-” he prattled as he rushed to the door and kicked it open. Raylas regained his breath yet again from the unsuspected attack at his ribs and clutched his weapon. He saw the smith gesturing inside.

Giving the crowd a glance Raylas signed and secured the chain on his belt and entered the house. It was smaller than he was used to. Not in size but in height. The dwarf obviously didn’t get many visitors since everything was built for someone of shorter stature.

Terrok pulled out a chair and pointed to it. Raylas plopped down onto what felt like rock. The dwarf matched with another chair and set his hands onto a small table.

“Speak,” he demanded.

He tilted his head confused. “I’m leaving town and–”

“Not the damned commission,” the dwarf interrupted. “Where in the depths did ya get that?”

Raylas frowned and touched the chain. It was sparkling, still looking clean and unused.

“I found it.”

The room fell into silence. A minute passed before the dwarf harrumphed.

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

“Damned poor story, that is.” The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and stood up. “Not even worth a sip of ale, much less a pint.”

“Wha–story?” Raylas stammered. “Wait a moment? Why do you want to hear a story? You just tried to kill me!”

“Kill?” Terrok chuckled. “Nah, a hit that light might lead to a concussion or…” he paused. “Oh, right. Human.”

“You forgot?” he gasped.

“Well, fights of honor are usually done with other dwarves.” He moved over to the far side of the room and punched the wall. Stone cracked which revealed a secret compartment which had a box.

“Why were we even fighting?” Raylas cried out.

“For the commission, of course.” The dwarf took the box and brushed it off. It was made of a lighter wood which made it look white. Golden runes were engraved around the sides and corners which made Raylas’ eyes widen. “We fight a bit. Either you have an excuse good enough ta excuse the commission, or I hurt ya just enough to be able to finish it while you heal.”

“Thats…”

“Good ol’ dwarven tradition,” Terrok sighed, a longing look in his face. “It's been years since I clobbered someone. Now, let's get movin’.”

Raylas shook his head. “Wait a moment.”

“Ya already paid for a set of armor, so I’m gonna make ya some damned armor,” he said. “I'll give ya somethin' of quality I made a while back that I thought would be wasted in this town. A good set should be used by a warrior, not a woodcutter.”

Raylas frowned as he saw the dwarf open his drawers and pull out some utensils and other things.

“I don’t understand,” he muttered.

“Ya said you were leavin’, so I’m coming with ya,” Terrok announced. “Sorry, stranger, but you and I are stuck together unless ya want my clan to hunt ya down lookin’ fur that nice trinket ya got.

“The metal’s hard, unlike silver, but the chain was too light to be steel. The shine… There is nothin’ that shines like that except mithril, but nobody has funda mithril mine for hundreds of years. Yet it also doesn’ appear to glow like mithril does, which is a nice light blue by the way, so it must be another…” He glanced at Raylas who was staring at him with his mouth hanging open. “Oh, sorry. Probably went a bit over yur head there.”

“You are coming with me because of–?” Raylas touched the chain. First the Knight now the dwarf? It was drawing far too much attention… he needed to find a new weapon, and soon.

“The writin’ wasn’ runes either,” Terrok ignored the human. “I don’ recognize it, but it may be–”

“It's the language of magi,” Raylas said. “I was told as much from Sir Vodianus.”

“The magi?” he pondered. “Ah! Ya mean the Words of Creation! That sells it, that thing’s a true and proper artifact!”

“So I’ve been told.” he deadpanned.

A knock sounded at the door. Both men looked at each other before the dwarf strode over and slid the locking mechanism into the wall.

“So, ya did say you were leavin’. Will you share why?”

Raylas looked between him and the door. The knocking sounded again and an announcement of the guards called in. He sighed at the annoyance of it all.

“The town is dealing with a dryad and there is fear the dryad has decided to abandon them,” he grumbled. “I was attacked by undead earlier today and the guards decided to place the blame on me.”

“So the best idea was to high tail it outa here and get somedistance between you and the mob?” Terrok concluded. “So ya need some getaway armor?” He scratched his beard.

“So you believe me?” Raylas asked doubtingly. He scratched his own stubble. He should probably shave soon.

Terrok sat in silence for a minute before standing up and walking to another room.

“Not really, but I was wonderin’ why they were so hush hush about some things since I moved in a few years abck,” he said as he came back in, a pack in his hands. “Dealin’ with tree-friends? Makes sense for a bunch of tree cutters. Leavin’ em to their own mistakes is right and good, but I took ya for a member of the cloth.”

“A priest?” Raylas tilted his head in confusion. “Why would you ever think–”

“Hair white as pure marble, eyes blue like a polished sapphire. Ya are just like the ballads tell a warrior in the service of a god should look like. I can’ see ya as one now since you plan ta abandon the people, but I also can’ blame ya.”

Raylas snorted and shook his head.

“Eh, it would have been interesting ta meet a legend,” Terrok shrugged.

“I’ve been thinkin’ of ditchin’ this place,” the dwarf said as he opened the pale box. He held his hand over it and closed his eyes. Suddenly a large warhammer appeared in his hand.

Raylas flinched back. The dwarf gave him a knowing smile and stuck his finger against his nose.

“Magic storage do-hicky,” he laughed. “Helped a mage out a few decades back and he helped me great gran make it. Been a lucky family token since.”

“A what?” the man asked staring at the box.

“I’ll explain later. Wait here for just a moment,” the dwarf said as he went to the door and unlocked it. He swung it open and walked outside. The guards who were standing at the door were plowed to the side as the dwarf seemed to ignore their existence.

The door slammed shut, followed by loud banging and the breaking stone. Raylas jumped and went to the window. The dwarf was taking the hammer to his smithy, breaking the anvil off its podium and lifting it over the chest. It disappeared, then he lifted another item. The metal frames which held swords and armors also were placed and vanished above the chest. The final item was the forge which the dwarf smashed into pieces.

By the end the entire work area was filled with nothing but rubble. The townsfolk were gathered around and muttering to themselves in worry while the guards were stunned. A few were demanding to know what he was doing while others looked like they were on the brink to run. When the dwarf exited he was stopped by a familiar guard who started to question him.

Terrok just swung the hammer over his shoulder, sidestepped around the guard, and entered his house, slamming the door behind him. The locking mechanism clicked shut again, the beams sliding neatly into the stone walls.

He gave Raylas a quick look and put his hand over the box. He stood there, seeming frozen, then suddenly he was holding a set of scale mail and leather.

"This should fit ya.” He set the armor on the table. “Got a weapon?”

Raylas nodded and set his hand on the chain at his hip. The dwarf chuckled.

“Now since we are gonna be partners.” He held up his hand to stop him from speaking. “This ain’ a request, I’m comin’. Since we are gonna be partners we should know each others names. I be Terrok Stoneshatterer, travelin’ smith. Pleasure ta be of service.” He gave a polite nod.

A moment passed before Raylas introduced himself.

“Wandering warrior, eh?” the dwarf laughed. “Perfect fit ta me being a wandering smith.” He stomped into the other room with the box, followed by splintering wood and stone

A pounding started on the front door again.

“While company would be safer,” Raylas started, “I’m not sure if–”

His head pounded and he rubbed his temples. The destruction of the dwarf’s cleaning rampage and the shouting of the guards at the door continued. From the sounds the guards have started to kick in the door but the metal supports on the door also acted like a lock, keeping it closed and intact.

“Why?” was all he could ask. “Why are you so insistent to coming with me?”

“Fate!” Terrok happily said,poking his head out of a new hole in the wall. “We dwarves have been lookin’ for an artifact for who knows how long! With it we might be able to start making them again, like before the splintering of the world!”

“You do know it's already bound to me, right?”

“Of course it is,” he laughed. “How else would ya know its a true artifact? And don’ worry, we don’ want ta keep it. That old thing is a great relic, but I’m gonna make the first Artifact of the Reforged Era.” He hobbled out with a pack on his back and the box slung under his arm like a bag.

He gripped the hammer with both of his hands and swung it at the nearest outside wall, cracking the rock with its spike. He then flipped the hammer and hit it again with the flat side bursting the wall open creating an opening.

“Come on, Raylas!” he cheered. “Lets get out of here before the townsfolk try something stupid.”

Raylas sighed and followed the dwarf outside. The wood on the front door was starting to splinter, but it was still holding solid. Solid thuds resounded as they tried to force the door down but it still held strong.

He looked around his yard and sighed.

"You got yur stuff, I'll distract the mob for a bit. Probably think I went Looney or somethin', but I won't be stringed up. Not like ya would. I'll see ya outside the gates."

Raylas rolled his eyes, but agreed to the plan. He followed the road around the house and saw a growing group of people around the smithy. He started around the crowd, his new helmet helping hide his hair from notice. As he turned the corner his eyes widened.

Were they using a battering ram on the door?