Arrival at the Tharkuldohr Mountains

"Papa, look! Look!" Gerde shook me from my thoughts as she excitedly peeked over Marcus's shoulder to look at the mountains just ahead of us. "It's the gates! It's dwarven gates! We're here!"

Everyone without a beard rose to their feet to look over Marcus's shoulder. We passed the treeline that was religiously cut far away from the gates to prevent ambush, and saw the imposing gates and walls of the Tharkuldohr Mountains.

The fifty feet high walls were carved from solid stone, with massive towers and commanding statues of the ancestors placed at regular intervals. The gates appeared to be made of solid steel, with images of the ancestors denying entrance carved into it.

"It's been many centuries since I last saw the mighty gates of Dharboldir." Elder Thrikrondromm said with a voice laden with memories. "More than one desperate last stand has taken place here, and more than one grudge has been stricken by luring greedy humans here to their doom."

"Wow! It's so awesome! It's bigger than Osaka!" Miyata exclaimed, nearly leaning out of the wagon in excitement.

"Who are all those people carved into the gates and walls?" I asked, always curious about history.

"That's High King Glorimmolim Earthguard." Elder Thrikrondromm solemnly pointed at the most decorated statue. "Ranging to his left, are the honorable warriors who served at his side to defeat the demon lord, and to his right, are the advisors who assisted him in leading us into the silver age of the dwarves. From the years 2062 to 2100 by our reckoning, the dwarven mountains saw peace and prosperity approaching what we had under the golden age of High King Hjerouhrdinn Godforged."

The kids spent the next few minutes marveling at the magnificent sight. It was something that neither the elves, nor the humans, could ever make. The humans were too short lived, and too fragmented to make anything like this. As for the elves, despite their long lives, they were more dedicated towards gaining immaterial power and knowledge to create anything without magic.

After everyone had gotten tired of the sight and had sat back down, Elder Thrikrondromm glared at Miyata and Tatsuki, a deadly serious look in his eyes. "Miyata, Tatsuki, listen to me closely. Do not reveal your celestial gifts, or that you are summoned heroes, to any dwarf inside those gates. Ever since the first hero became a demon lord, summoned heroes from another world have been forbidden from entering any dwarven mountain by ancient law and grudge. If your status as otherworlders were to be revealed, then you would either be killed, or used as bait for the goblins. Do I make myself clear?"

Miyata, for once, took Elder Thrikrondromm seriously and nodded. Tatsuki nodded along with her. Elder Thrikrondromm then turned to Delimira.

"The same goes for you, elf. Your armor is too clearly made by the damned elves, but if anyone asks, then say that you stole it off an elf you killed. Be sure to never show your ears, or let anyone discover you're an elf. The fate that awaits you if you are discovered has no words in Imperial, and speaking it in Dwarven would make the humans' ears bleed. So do not let your heritage be discovered."

Delimira gulped nervously, but nodded. Instinctively moving her hands to cover her long pointy ears that were a trademark of her race.

"Elder Thrikrondromm." Tatsuki raised his hand to ask a question. "What should we do if someone asks us who we are?"

That was a good question. Every human nation I'd seen so far was definitely European in facial features and coloration. Miyata's and Tatsuki's Asian faces were far from the norm.

"Just tell them that you are adventurers from the western continent."

"Are there people like them on the western continent?" I asked. Elder Thrikrondromm shrugged.

"Only the gods know. No dwarf besides you and Bekhi have ever set foot on a ship, so it is entirely possible that other summoned heroes like them settled down on the western continent and had descendents." He then turned to our wagon driver. "Marcus."

"Yeah, I heard. I'll write up a report for the Emperor, but I won't tell any of the dwarves that I've got summoned heroes and an elf in my wagon. If we all survive the battle though, I still want to see elven magic. I'll be the talk of the town for a while if I can tell them I saw an elf use magic."

Satisfied with Marcus's answer, Elder Thrikrondromm leaned back and waited patiently for the wagon to get to the gate.

"Halt! Who goes there?" An ancient voice reached us when we were around fifty feet from the gates. "The Tharkuldohr Mountains are currently in a state of war, and the gates will not open for trade."

"I bring word from the Emperor of Thrond!" Marcus called back to the unseen gatekeeper. "He sent weapon crafters and runesmiths from the north to make custom weapons for himself and his guards."

There was a bit more back and forth between Marcus and the gatekeeper, but eventually the gates were cracked open to let us in. The gates were opened barely wide enough for us to squeeze through while sucking in our stomachs. The horse and wagon had to remain outside the walls. Once we were inside, I was able to figure out why they were so cautious.

The only people holding the gates were a few elders who appeared to be from the Scholar Clan based on how clumsily they held their weapons, and a few beardless youths who were barely into their teens. Everyone else had been sent to aid in the defense against the goblin horde.

As per Elder Thrikrondromm's instructions, Tatsuki and Miyata said that they were adventurers from the western continent. Delimira had numerous insults lobbed at her in both the Dwarven and Imperial languages for her armor. But she stood proud in it, pretending not to pay attention. Finally, they approached Gerde.

"What in the ancestor's name is this?" The gatekeeper asked.

Gerde held out her hammer in the traditional greeting pose, and spoke in pure Dwarven. "I am Gerde Bekhissdottir. May our interactions bring honor to our ancestors."

"I didn't ask who you were, I asked what you were." The gatekeeper asked, slightly peeved that his question wasn't answered, but also surprised that she spoke in Dwarven.

"Gerde is a beastkin." I answered in her place. "A race that lives in seclusion far to the north in the Eternal Forest. My girlfriend and I adopted her and are raising her as our daughter."

"A beastkin?" The gatekeeper consulted with the other elders before the figurative lightbulb went off. "That ancient race mentioned in lore as having fought against the first demon lord? I thought they were a myth created by humans as a bogeyman for children. You mean to say they are real?"

Gerde wagged her wolf tail slightly, and twitched her ears, as if to say that those were part of her, and not a costume. This caused the Elders in the Scholar Clan to raise their eyebrows in surprise.

"Fascinating! If we all make it through the next few months, please bring her back here so that we may talk some more. It has been many centuries since something this interesting has made its way to Dharboldir."

After a few more minutes of questioning, we were sent on our way. Since our horse and wagon were left outside the wall, we were provided a wagon that was crafted specifically for the stone tunnels, and a mole-mule to pull it. A mole-mule is basically a star nosed mole, that's the size of a mule.