Stonehead

Damn it all.

I could see my earlier words were getting to the boy. And while it was sound advice, it simply was not the halfling way. We were to be open-minded at all times. Look at the facts and never take things too seriously. Most things at least.

As for this woman, Jay, she didn't seem malicious. Though she certainly seemed to be the cause of our injury. And despite her healing us, I was sure the brutish dwarf was moving as fast as his legs could carry him to rally his clan.

And she knew it too. Though she still smiled, she dropped her gaze from above to flick the jewels of ice in her sockets between us. "Can I walk you up?" Came the question I knew would be uttered.

And for better or for worse. "Sure." I nodded. "My name is Lemarius Dewleaf and this is my son-"

"DeBoynton." He flatly- surprisingly- said, and even waited for me to rise before he grabbed his sword. Then started the climb up a long, featureless tunnel of white.

Damn it all.

"The brute you met earlier is Pragsturosa Fangchisel, a stone-headed simpleton like most dwarves. But they're good folk." I lightheartedly chortled, attempting to brighten my son's mood to little avail. "We of Oretta have a mutually beneficial relationship. The dwarves mine and forge below and provide us protection while we provide them with better food and garner them higher profits at the market."

"Are you an adventurer?" Deboynton then asked. And I couldn't help but add. "If you are, there may not be much in the way of business."

"I heal those that need healing and that's it." Jay casually shrugged.

"And if no one needs healing?" I couldn't help but ask.

But she only shrugged again. "Then I'll go somewhere else."

"Such as?"

"Droria."

DeBoynton stopped in his tracks and turned his wide eyes to her at once. And to be truthful, so did I.

"Droria is a bad place." He grimly warned.

"What makes it bad?" Jay asked with not a hint of hesitation in her step.

"Slavers. Trappers. Rogues and the like," the boy continued. "They pride themselves on not being a part of the empire. But they're not any better."

"That's enough!" I sternly said, noticing the fire in her blue-white eyes. "I know that look," I then said to her. "Don't go bringing us trouble, you hear?"

"You have my word that I'll do my best not to." She bowed mid-step but continued stomping forward unimpeded. "Should it happen, though, just know that I have the means to bring you all to safety."

"We won't be leaving."

The words came out grim. Grimmer than I intended, but like many things, I came to learn, she paid it no mind.

"Under the wrong circumstances, you may have no choice."

It may have come off as a casual threat. But I could see that it wasn't. We were driven to make that choice once before. And while we swore it would never happen again, I knew such things weren't up for us to decide.

"Halt!"

I could see the dwarven formation long before we crested the mouth of the long tunnel. They were led, of course, by Pragsturosa, and undoubtedly listened with ferocious intensity to his tale of what transpired. Though honest, their stories were always heavily skewed towards their preconceived notions, I've learned. They abhorred any type of magic born not from their traditions, dubbing it as unnatural or something or other. And this- a castle at the base of a frozen lake, was surely unnatural.

Barakgnogg Fusseldorne, clan leader of the dwarves, waded across the ice the moment we emerged. Paying no mind to me or my son, he stepped right up to Jay and looked deep into her soul with his beady gray eyes.

"So, ye be the witch, eh?" He grumbled something profuse. Even from here, I could smell the dwarven spirits burning through the frigid air. Yet, she paid no heed to the overbearing stench.

"Yes. My name is Jay." She politely bowed.

"So what happened in ye here hole?"

"A geyser was due to blow in the near future," Jay calmly said with a wave to the lake around us. "The water was trapped below the sinkhole, you see, and heated by a hot spot in the ground."

"Aye." Chief Fusseldorne nodded approvingly, though his thumb jerked towards the ice at his feet. "Felt it in the stones, we did. Ye went and blew it, eh?"

"I tried my best to contain it." She meekly shrugged. "But the blast knocked these three unconscious."

"So ye healed'm and took residence in the… er, lake? Is that all yer after?" Fusseldorne eyed her suspiciously.

I listened carefully as she recanted the story she told us. Of her being a traveling witch in want of no gold or payment, only people to heal. And then she'll be on her merry way to Droria.

"Mhmm," Fusseldorne grunted after hearing the story, then turned his beady eyes up to fill his leathery lungs with the brisk air. "This weather is nice." Grumbling something or other under his breath, Chief Barakgnogg Fusseldorne took his leave without another word.

Only after he and his dwarven troupe cleared the lake and waded past the woodline did his thunderous voice boom into our ears. "We'll be keeping a sharp eye on ye, Jay, the Witch!"

"I think he likes you." I chortled. Though in truth, I was speaking for myself.

"I appreciate you trusting me," Jay told us softly.

Though, somehow, I knew Fusseldorne heard her just as clearly.