Krakhammer (Part Two)

Tycondrius sat, crossing his legs on an upraised platform, hands on his knees. Isidor rested lazily behind him. He figured the two of them together looked quite intimidating... but none of the mountain's denizens seemed to fear the Titan Snake.

Tycon patiently listened to the Dwarven patriarch pointing and yelling loudly. It was a bit stereotypical of the dwarf... Tycon decided to take no offense.

⟬ Thrumondi Krakhammer, Bronze-Rank Dwarven Chieftain. ⟭

"Patriarch... we are friends of the snakes..." A female dwarf reminded.

Tycon noted that the woman had no beard, looking more like a squat, rock-muscled, young human. It must have been a more modern aesthetic style-- perhaps to appear younger? Tycon surmised that the female must have waxed her face to achieve such an effect.

"AS I WAS SAYING!! We may be FRIENDS of you, Snaaake." Without hesitation, the dwarf corrected himself. "But make no mistake, we're not FRRRRIENDS!!"

Tycon felt his cheek twitch again.

Oh, no. This one was an idiot. He wished he could ask for someone else, but this one seemed to be in charge.

His gaze met with the female. She didn't get her helmet struck like the first dwarf. He reasoned that she must have had some status.

Tycon gestured towards her, "Translation, please?"

The woman bowed politely-- not too low, which was acceptable, "Greetings, your lordship. The Patriarch wishes to say that there is no benefit in the Krakhammer Clan taking arms against the humans."

Ah. That made sense. There were a small number of species that were an exception to human xenophobia, not actively hunted and wiped out. In particular, dwarves, elves, and popotoes were fully integrated in all societies besides... the Holy Country. Daeva, dovahkiin, gnomes, and titanbloods belonged to that category, too, but there were far less of them.

Tycon nodded, "Your name, noble warrior?"

The Dwarven woman smiled warmly, her eyes bright with pride, "Diamantia, Prince."

⟬ Diamantia Krakhammer, Iron-Rank Dwarven Destroyer. ⟭

Even her name was modern. It wasn't Dwarven, but in the style of the people of the Holy Country.

"That is unfortunate, Lady Diamantia. I was certain that the humans would weep for mercy and the rivers would run red with blood when the Krakhammers took to the battlefield."

The Dwarven Patriarch, Thrum, stiffened like worked steel doused in oil.

Tycon continued... "And the spoils of war, Patriarch... the gems and rings to collect... they would look so opulent, reforged by *proper* craftsmanship and woven into your magnificent beard."

The Patriarch's entire body shook. Slowly, he turned to the woman at his side and spoke in a guttural Dwarven, "(Dia... My love... Can we war with the humans? Please?)"

Ah... The Patriarch was the Clan Head... but Dwarven Destroyer Diamantia was the neck that could turn the head any way she wished.

The woman glared at the Patriarch. She glanced back to Tycon, bowed again, "Prince, please excuse us... just for a moment."

Tycon kept his face impassive and raised a palm, "Please. Take your time."

"(Thrumondi Krakhammer, son of Bumdael, son of Glorilgrin, son of Thrumondi, we had discussed this. No means no.")

"(Oh, come on. Just one squad? Maybe two? Three! Three squads, and that's all!!)"

"(We only have three veteran squads, you insufferable fool.)" The woman placed her hands on her hips.

Thrumondi subconsciously dipped his head, raising his shoulders in response, "(Dia... Please, the prince seems like a nice guy. He's nothing like the stories say. Maybe we can invite him to drink? We can play that board game you like-- ooh! The trivia game! You *love* the trivia game!)"

...Dwarven ale and a board game? That sounded like a lovely evening.

Diamantia scowled, "(First off, I heavily doubt that. The prince likely has more important things to do, my love.)"

Tycon did, but one night off didn't sound so bad. He wondered if he could bring Sasarame and Isidor... It wouldn't feel proper to leave them out of the festivities.

"(This was *your* decision, Patriarch.)" She insisted.

"(I may have been a bit... hasty,)" Thrumondi apologized, looking pitiful.

Tycon chatted idly with Virgilia as he waited. It seemed that Thrumondi and Diamantia were husband and wife. Sensible.

Finally, Thrumondi approached again, "We're JOINING the war, Snaaake! And there's NOTHING you can do to stop us!!"

Diamantia hooked her arms on the opposite side of Thrumondi's neck in a 'loving' embrace... then she pulled his head down, while simultaneously powering an Iron-Ranked knee strike into his side.

Thrumondi did not fall, a testament to his sturdiness, "S-s... snaaake... We'll NEVER join your WAR. And there's NOTHING... you can do... Yeap... Nope. Nothing."

Was he injured? Tycon was a half-step into Gold-Rank and was fairly certain he'd be critically injured after such an attack.

Concerning the dwarves... to enlist their aid, Tycon had a few things to offer at minimal risk to himself. After all, they were being as polite-- honestly, as much as he could hope for.

Tycon took a deep breath and sighed. He wanted to give the impression that he thought the dwarves were actually important.

"I have a Trading Company in the Kingdom. We'll invest in your smithy."

The Dwarven Destroyer crossed her arms, "Ivory Prince, I'm sorry. We've made up our minds."

Thrumondi grumbled haplessly at the comment. The other dwarves gave their Patriarch pitying looks but remained silent.

Tycon smirked. He held a trump card that was rarely useful, but would be effective for his current opponent... "I'll have you know, I'm friends with the Prince of Arcanite."

"...Go on," Diamantia gestured, raising an eyebrow in interest.

Wonderful. Craftsmen loved working with quality material... and Arcanite was suitably valuable enough to pique the Dwarven matriarch's interest.

"I'll have my Quartermaster arrange for a shipment of Thorium... though the mana stones would be more difficult to provide."

Diamantia looked at the various creatures around the cave, "Oh, I think we'll manage."

...Was she going to slaughter her allies for mana stones? ...Her class was Destroyer, after all. The thought was worrisome. 

One of the largest differences between sentient races and magical beasts like Isidor and Stephanos was that only the latter had mana stones, harvestable from their corpses-- or spirit stones, as the Hidden Sects called them. They were rarely useful-- save for Hidden Sect techniques, magical power sources for Wizards, and... for the forging of the mana-absorbent metal known as Arcanite.

Diamantia nodded, her expression pleased, "It's a pleasure to do business with you, Ivory Prince. We'll join your war. Isn't that right, dear Patriarch?"

...The woman was cutthroat. He thought he was getting a good deal, but judging by her expression it might not have been so.

However, Diamantia would not be dealing with Tycon, himself. She'd be dealing with his Quartermaster, the Calculator, Sorina Capulet. She was more than a match for Diamantia.

Sorina had a Business Degree.