City of Thindarohm

Once we were in the pitch black tunnels, Tatsuki turned to Elder Thrikrondromm with a question. "What was up with the dwarves' hostility towards Delimira? I know dwarves and elves don't like each other sometimes in fantasy anime, but that was just on another level, and she was just wearing elven armor as far as they knew."

Elder Thrikrondromm gave a heavy sigh, his brows furrowing as he shifted into teaching mode. "It is a long and sorrowful tale. Filled with death, destruction, and woe."

Over the course of the next few days of travel through the crushing darkness, Elder Thrikrondromm told the story of the Elf invasion of the continent. The War of Pacification is what they called it, the dwarves and humans just called it the Great Invasion. It had taken place thousands of years ago, and their unchallenged rule over the surface of the continent had lasted less than a century, but the scars of that time still remained harsh and tender in the hearts of every dwarf.

During their reign over the surface of the continent. The elves had killed any dwarf on sight that appeared outside our mountains, intending to starve us into submission, while occasionally tossing mighty spells at the rocky entrances in an attempt to intimidate the dwarven race.

Their attitude towards humans was almost harsher. Treating them as amusing pets who could perform all the menial tasks that elves couldn't be bothered to do. Killing them whenever they felt like it, and ensuring that none of them could read, write, or bear arms.

"Human memories are short though." Elder Thrikrondromm said with a sigh, nearing the end of the lesson. "They have already forgotten the oppression of the elves, and from what I overheard among the human armies, some of them are seeking to ally with them to gain access to their magic. I just hope their ancestors will prevent that from happening."

"Sounds worse than our second World War." Tatsuki commented. He had listened eagerly to every story of battle and fighting that Elder Thrikrondromm had told over the past few days. His eyes lit up as he heard the tales of glory and honor. "Will the elves ever attack again?"

"Possibly." Delimira said with a shrug. "My dad's in charge of the elves right now, and he's working on getting ready to invade. But it'll be at least a century or two before he's finished getting everyone behind him."

"Wait, doesn't that make you like a princess?" Miyata asked, leaning forward and picturing her in princess clothes. "You're an elven princess? A princess in disguise? Running away from home? Why did you run away? Can you ever go back?"

Delimira rolled her eyes before responding. "Elves don't have princesses like the humans do. My history is my own, and I'm not telling you."

She then leaned back and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep through Miyata's unceasing questions. She remained that way for the next few hours, until we reached our destination.

"Halt! Who goes there!" A warrior's stentorian voice came from an open steel gate. Just inside the gates, dozens of dwarven soldiers assembled in case we were hostile.

Marcus gave the same reply as he had at the first gate, telling them that he was sent by the emperor, bringing weaponsmiths and runesmiths to make custom weapons for him and his guards. Once we were determined to be non hostile, the soldiers went back to their guard shelter, where they were sipping on beer and sharpening their weapons.

"How far behind you are the human armies? The warrior asked, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword, and his long chestnut beard bristling as he interrogated us.

"Just a few weeks behind." Marcus replied. "We traveled night and day to get here before they did."

"Hmph. If your emperor wanted runed weapons, we have the finest runesmiths and weapon crafters in the entire world here." The warrior grumbled as he did a brief visual inspection of us and the wagon. "And what about the humans? Why do you have humans in your party?"

"We ran into them when we were making our way through the forests that border your mountains. They were coming here to join the defense, so we gave them a lift." Marcus gave the story we had agreed upon and the guards seemed to buy it.

"More volunteers, eh? Just keep them with you. If anything is stolen or destroyed by the humans, they will be used as goblin fodder to lure them into the tunnels rigged to drop."

Giving a few more warnings of places to avoid, and directions to the palace of the king of the mountain, the warrior sent us on our way.

"Thindarohm." Elder Thrikrondromm solemnly said to us. "First city of the dwarves. Former seat of the High King. Bastion of honor. You humans are likely the first humans in thousands of years to have laid eyes upon it." He left unsaid that Delimira was most certainly the first elf to visit this city. If someone had overheard him, then she would almost definitely have been killed by angry dwarves.

"Well, I need to deliver this letter to King Grovrac Treasuresword." Marcus said, patting his pocket. "Are you coming with me to the castle?"

"No." Elder Thrikrondromm said. "I have a former apprentice who lives in the city. He should have an open rune forge that Kvalinn and I can use to prepare the weapons. Every other forge is likely running nonstop to prepare for the goblin horde."

Following Elder Thrikrondromm through the city, it was clear that they were ready for war. Every dwarf, of every age and gender, and of every clan, was fully suited up in armor. Their numerous weapons were polished to a shine, and sharpened to a razor's edge. The streets were absolutely packed with dwarves. Most were camped out on the edge of the road, waiting for a call to action. But others who were in the streets appeared to have returned from expeditionary fighting in the caverns, and were tending to their wounded, and mourning the fallen.