Chapter 4: Brother Where art Thou?

A draft of liquor helps build one's confidence quicker. The phrase is especially true when approaching strangers in a tavern. I swipe another mug of ale as I walk towards the Sindre table. There's barely enough room for an extra member. Yet, I sit next to the confused dwarves. I fumble through my mind for the correct phrase.

"Silir og blessadir," I greet the dwarves with the utmost gentile expression. "Unnskyld meg, but what is this 'treasure' bit I hear?"

"Hva er dette?" A gruff dwarf sitting across from me asks. 

Of course, the company glance from one to the other in surprise. My presence is unexpected. After a brief moment, the dwarves release tensions with a bout of laughter. They do not expect me to know their language in full as evident as they shift tongues.

"I commend you on your accent," the dwarf to my right cheers. He slaps my back hard in a welcoming gesture. "It's rare to see your kind in these parts. Yet, welcome to the table!"

"We'll have to pardon your ears," the dwarf across from me continues. "We don't particularly take kindly to those who meddle in another's affairs."

"All in good faith," I reply with a hand over my chest. "I'm Umlingo and I do enjoy a treasure hunt."

My introduction is made with only the dwarves in mind. I lean my head in the center of the group. The smell of liquor hangs heavy from their beards. The dwarves pause to determine whether or not I am invited into their secret affairs.  The lead dwarf studies me and provides a smile. 

"I'm Asbjurn," states the dwarf in front while pounding his chest. "And these are: Einar, Arvid, Trygve and Uyvind."

Upon each introduction, the named dwarf provides a hearty fist bump to their chest. Their warmth provides me with a strong sentiment. I smile fondly as I recall an old friend. Finally, I have found some worthy companions. 

"What were you discussing," I begin to say once I receive a pause in their enthusiasm. "About a 'gursimi'?"

Uyvind glances at me and shifts his attention to his friend. With a nod from the other, the dwarf grins. 

"The myth of the underground city," Uvyind states with a mysterious, narrative tone. "Somewhere, deep within the Beorg Mountains rests a forbidden city. The establishment lays beyond our own Dwarven home and is rumored to be only accessible through a magical gate." 

"Fascinating!" I beam like a child who discovered a new toy. Every tale has a bit of truth involved. "What else do you know?"

"We are unsure of where and how one would use the gate," Einar says while scratching his beard. "Yet, there is a dwarf at home who has an uncanny love for myth and history surrounding Krystallia."

"That reminds me!" Asbjurn declares with a fist to a palm. "If you would do me a service, then maybe you'll receive the information regarding the hidden city."

My head tilts to the side. 'A favor?' What can the dwarf mean? Despite the uncertainty, my curiosity claims victory over my senses. 

"Very well," I say after taking a pause. "What is the task."

"Mikill!" The dwarf exclaims in excitement. "Thank you for your interest!"

Asbjurn pats through his clothes in search of an item. He locates the bag in question and draws out an old envelope. With a smile, he hands me the note.

"Please take this to my brother." As I take the letter, he continues detailing the instructions. "As you trek towards the Beorg Mountains, you will reach Brigsdale. Once in town, you may find my brother, Vidar. Give him this letter and ask him to take you to Uppruni."

"Are you sure he'll take me to your city?" I ask with an amount of skepticism. 

"He will be able to trust you," the other smiles in response. "After all, knowing me gives you leverage, and favors are always repaid."

I place the letter in my bag. In good spirits, I take my mug. 

"Let's toast to new friends!" I suggest with delight. 

Those around the table each agree. They raise their mugs and in unison we cheer:

"Skaal!"

As night wanes, I retire to my room. Overwhelmed, from the pleasant experience, I reason that rest will be difficult to achieve. I reach my room on the second floor. Upon the click of the key, I open the door to reveal a small lodging. There's a bed to the right and a nightstand in the corner. At least there's a window. I shut the door and lay in bed. I study the sky while noting the moon's position. There may be a few hours left before dawn. Regardless, I hold no regrets. With a smile, I close my eyes and meditate. 

The sun hangs in the afternoon. I wake to the sound of shuffling below. 'A free meal,' I think to myself with glee. I gather my belongings and head downstairs. There is a new barmaid and she greets me with a cheery grin. 

"Good morning hon," she says with a smile. "What can I fetch for ya?"

"Eggs and toast," I reply when taking a seat. 

Breakfast is a treat even at noon. Once the meal is set on the table, I glance around the tavern. The dwarves from the night before are not visible. Perhaps they left earlier than one would anticipate for a late night out. On the other hand, they may still be fast asleep. Either way, I wonder if we will cross paths again. 

"Thank you for the meal," I give the barmaid a bow once finished. 

"Safe travels!" She waves as I make my exit.

Riverwood is an exceptionally lovely place in the day. The townsfolk greet each other with smiles. There's a flower shop across the street. A kind older woman sells bouquets to various customers. The flowers provide the town a fresh scent. While noting happy people, one can feel a sort of warmth. 

"Maybe I'll visit Riverwood again." My voice sounds surreal. 

I sigh and continue walking towards the gate. 'Follow the Tweed River,' the instruction relays in my mind. Once I cross the bridge, I turn back to give the town a final glance. My attention focuses on the letter. 'To Brigsdale!' The thought brings excitement to my feet. 

Walking along the river makes for a calm venture. The current flows towards the previous town. Wildlife runs free. Small birds flutter from branch to branch. Across the river, bears catch fish. A swell idea! 'Not now Umlingo,' my mind demands a sort of discipline that is unfamiliar in my repertoire. 

As the trail continues, I enter a dense forest. With the river on my right, the forest path provides a sense of freedom. Being engrossed with nature is invigorating. Squirrels race through the undergrowth and my eyes spy a fox on the hunt. Within moments, I can hear the cries of a rabbit. 'Everyone must eat,' I think while glancing away from the eerie screech.

Once my stomach cannot wait any longer, I move closer to the river. Armed with a dagger, I proceed to make an attempt to catch a fish. 'Focus and lunge.' The plan runs simple in mind. Yet, fishing without a rod or long spear is difficult. Despite the odds, after several tries my dagger pierces a trout. 

"Yes!" My voice rings with excitement. 

Now, I can eat too. Remember, when traveling it is essential to have the means of flaking a fire. A lesson I hold strong. After the needed meal, my body feels energized. Feet walk quicker when rested. The remaining course through the forest yields a vast field. The Tweed cuts around a hill and resides close to my destination. 

"Brigsdale!" I cheer. 

With a sharp gaze, I can see the small form of a town below the hill. My enthusiasm shifts into confusion while I find an unexpected visitor. Perched on a rock, a great falcon screeches to gain my attention. The falcon has a similar presence surrounding her to someone that I know from my youth. Carefully, I approach the falcon.

"What brings you here?" I say with a soft tone.

The bird lifts her wings. On her leg, I can see a small rolled piece of parchment. 'A letter?' The assumption crosses my mind. Upon closer inspection, the falcon allows me to take the parchment. I unroll the paper and my eyes widen.

"Ukuphi umfowethu?" I read out loud and my heart...

Drops.