Bacon. The smell of fresh and sizzling bacon coaxed me from the land of sleep into the waking world. I could also smell fresh bread toasting on the kitchen fires of the inn. With a grin, I sat up and looked around.
The shuttered windows only let a little light into the room, but I could tell that it was just an hour past dawn. After traveling with the wagons for so long, where we woke at dawn and made camp at dusk, this was technically sleeping in.
"Was a god really here last night?" I wondered to myself. Thinking back over my school lessons, I tried to remember if the god of fire had ever delivered warnings like this to any other dwarf in history.
My ruminations were cut short when Bekhi banged on my door. "Kvalinn. Gerde and I are going downstairs for breakfast, wake up already."
"Sweet rolls!" Gerde chirped with a smile that somehow could be heard through the door. I shrugged off the previous night and got out of bed, relishing the sensation of not waking up with knots and stiffness from sleeping on the ground in leather armor.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." Bekhi greeted me with a grin. "Gerde was up at dawn, but I convinced her to nap until breakfast was ready. But once she smelled the bacon I couldn't hold her back any longer."
"It smells yummy, papa!" Gerde gave me a hug that made me regret not putting on my armor. Despite being only two winters old, she was nearly as tall as me and her regularly exercised muscles had the brute strength of a young wolf.
"Alright, since the guild is paying our tab while we're here, let's go get the best food they serve here." My statement was met with a cheer from Gerde and a smile from Bekhi.
Since Vermogen was a country that boasted sending ships to a hundred harbors all around the world, they had a few items that, while expensive, reminded me of my previous life. I sat down at the table with a heaping plate of waffles, bacon, eggs, and most importantly, maple syrup over most of it. From what I had found in my adventures so far, trees resembling the American Maple tree only existed on the western continent so the maple syrup was the most expensive thing on my plate.
As we sat down, I realized that this was the first time I had seen Bekhi without armor in several months, if not years, since she pretty much always wore it on the trip north and while adventuring in the Thomboldahr mountains, and for some reason I felt myself falling in love, if I wasn't already. She still had her hair tied up in the same chestnut braid from our childhood, but her hair was much longer than it had been when we were kids, reaching down just past her upper back. Her facial features were much more developed now that she was seventeen. Her brown eyes sparkled cheerfully as she played with Gerde, she glanced over at me and I could see her eyes soften, and felt my own cheeks flush.
"Eat up, Kvalinn. Your food is getting cold." Bekhi grinned as she stole a piece of my bacon. "I'm not sure why you covered everything with tree sap, but if you don't hurry, Gerde and I will eat it."
"Yummy food!" Gerde cheered as she held up a fork like it was a sword.
Prompted by the fear of losing my breakfast, I tucked into the meal with a vengeance, and soon was patting my belly and leaning back with a cup of coffee.
Over mugs of coffee, I told Bekhi about the god of fire's visit last night. At first she was skeptical, after all, this had never happened in our recorded history so far as we knew. But when I told her about Lasraichean vanishing in a puff of fire, she seemed to believe me somewhat.
"Goblins grog." Bekhi swore softly. "Dad used to tell me stories about the antics of the gods, but I never expected to have anything to do with them. At least not until you got a lot better at rune crafting several centuries from now."
I nodded in agreement. Elder Thrikrondromm had warned me a few times while he was training me in the art of rune crafting, that the gods will pop down to the Mortal Realm if a rune smith manages to make something powerful enough to catch their interest. He himself had only been visited once by a celestial, Eira, goddess of snow, who had paid him several chunks of mithril for a Rune of Snow that he had made in imitation of one that I had made in school. It was every rune smith's ambition, and fear, to make runes powerful enough to catch the attention of the primal beings of the world. Because while they oftentimes will pay handsomely for magical runes, sometimes they will just kill the smith and take what they want.
"What are 'gods'?" Gerde asked with her head cocked to the side and a confused look on her face. I scratched behind her ears and did my best to answer.
"Gods are the beings who created everything and everyone in the world. A lot of humans worship them and pray to them, but we honor only our ancestors. Since the gods enslaved our original ancestor and we still hold a grudge against them for that."
We got sidetracked a little when we had to explain what slavery and grudges were in child friendly terms to Gerde, but eventually Bekhi brought the conversation back to Lasraichean's warning.
"You said that he would 'arrange a meeting' with the elf, but did he say when and where we were supposed to meet him?"
I shook my head. "He just said that we had to make our decision soon since the boat is leaving in a couple weeks. But I'd still like to see if I can find any lost knowledge here that would allow me to fight the gods. Maybe I'll get lucky here like I did in Tochka and there will be more ancient books from Hjerouhrdinn."
"We should talk with Mercer, the Guildmaster." Bekhi said. "He might have some contacts with the local nobility or the schools, and can point us in the right direction." She then paused and chuckled with her usual fighting grin. "If you do end up making a celestial power level weapon, I call dibs on using it on the gods. Gerde got to kill the dragon, so now it's my turn to save our butts."
"You just want to fight a god, don't you?" I grinned in response to Bekhi's transparency. She just grinned right back at me with shining eyes.
"Bekhi Godfighter has a nice sound to it, don't you think? Besides, Gerde will probably get the title of Gerde Dragonslayer next time we see our families, and I can't let my daughter outshine me so easily." We laughed for a few minutes before asking the inn to send a messenger to the Adventurer's guild to request a meeting as soon as possible. The messenger returned a few minutes later saying that the Guildmaster would meet with us once the guild had closed for the day.
After paying the messenger a few small coins, I turned to Bekhi. "Well, since Mercer told us to stay here to keep Gerde safe, it seems we have a whole day to kill. What should we do today?"
"Eat sweet rolls!" Gerde chirped, even though she had just finished eating breakfast.
"I guess we can train a bit." Bekhi said as she pushed her chair back. I quickly agreed, and after getting permission from the innkeeper, we donned our arms and armor and started engaging in mock combat in the backyard of the inn.
Our training got a little noisy at times, but the innkeeper and the guests didn't seem to mind that much. They just watched from the windows and placed bets on us. Occasionally an adventurer or town dandy who was sure of their swordsmanship would try to join in the fun, only to be left panting and bruised on the steps after just a few minutes.
Bekhi was as strong and active as ever. Skillfully wielding a sword and an ax to take on both Gerde and myself at the same time while wearing her usual feral grin. Gerde was following my example for now, using a hammer for offense and a shield for defense, but I could tell from her shining eyes that she wanted to follow her mother's example and dual wield weapons. I fought with my usual conservative stance, blocking any blows that came my way and swinging at any openings, it wasn't as flashy as Bekhi's fighting style but it worked well enough for me.
At the end of the day, the three of us were tired out and sweaty, but satisfied with the results of our training. After washing up, we put our armor back on and made our way to the guild building for our meeting with Mercer.
When we reached the guild though, we found that they were still helping someone at the counter even though they were supposed to be closed. A tall thin man who was, for lack of a better word, throwing a tantrum about the guilds ruling that Gerde was a beastkin and that she had survived the Vermogen run. Judging from his expensive robes and jewelry, he must have been extremely well off. I wondered to myself what someone of his status was doing here, and why he hadn't just sent a servant while half listening to his rant.
"It is impossible, I tell you. The beastkin are extinct, no more, gone from this world, they had their day under the sun and it is long over. Those pathetic insects calling themselves dwarves are clearly lying for the money. I demand that their falsehoods be exposed for what they are, and that the reprehensible charlatans who dared start these rumors, that a race forgotten by the gods are still in existence, be given to me for proper punishment."
The half elf guild employee, who had the same dead eyes as a supermarket manager dealing with a pushy customer, attempted to placate the angry man. "Sir Elnaril, I understand that this is unprecedented. But the Guildmaster has made his decision, and copies of the proofs are in front of you. If you wish to contest the claims, then you will need to find proof that the information is incorrect and submit it to the guild."
"Insolent halfblood! What more proof do you need than the word of a pureblooded elf from the house of Aedahl. Do you dare say that the word of a human, who's barely lived a handful of decades, is more trustworthy than mine? As for your proofs, here is what I think of them." The indignant elf, who had been addressed as Elnaril, snapped his fingers. A small fire that was no bigger than that of a candle, appeared on the papers where the testimony of the medical scholars and city official had been transcribed.
Struggling not to sigh heavily, the guild employee licked a finger and snuffed out the tiny flame. Elnaril had a smug look on his face, as if he had sufficiently proved his point just from being an elf, and waited expectantly for the guild employee to admit defeat.
Having dealt with people like Elnaril in my previous life when I worked in customer service, I felt this would be a good time for a tactical retreat before either of them saw us. I turned on my heel and tried to silently usher Bekhi and Gerde out the door. Unfortunately, the guild employee caught sight of us, and did exactly what I would have done in his shoes. He ratted us out.
"Sir Elnaril, it would appear the two dwarves who found the beastkin child, and the beastkin herself, are right over there. I believe you can discuss with them if they are lying or not." The instant that Elnaril's eyes left him, the guild employee vanished into a back room, where I caught a glimpse of all the other employees who were hiding from the bothersome elf. As for Elnaril, he stormed over to where the three of us were standing. His light brown hair and expensive robes fluttered behind him from how quickly he walked.
"You three. I demand that you tell the truth. That the girl is no beastkin, and that you are scheming dwarven liars. Do so quickly and I may soften your punishment, and make your deaths quick and only marginally painful." He then uttered what sounded like a spell in his native tongue, and a ball of fire the size of a baseball appeared over his right palm.
I half turned and softly told Gerde to get her shield out. It had been enchanted with the Rune of Reflection, so it would bounce any magic back at the caster, which was how the legendary dragon had been brought down. Bekhi added some context for Gerde to keep her from panicking, telling her to pretend the elf was a mean yeti. That seemed to do the trick, and she instantly got into a defensive stance with her weapon and shield.
Once I was sure Gerde was safe from the elf's magic, I turned to face him. The grudges of a thousand hours of customer service called for me to give a fitting reply to the haughty elf. "Greetings. I am Kvalinn Runecursed. If you are insinuating that I am lying then allow me to return the insult. You are a cut rate elf who needs to chant a spell to cast magic, and your staff was likely broken by your teacher when they realized how incompetent you were."
Granted, I had no idea if any of that was true, or even if that would be a good insult on an elf, but all the other insults I knew for elves were untranslatable from dwarven and I didn't want to teach them to Gerde due to them translating to being equivalent to the F bomb. Not that it mattered though, Elnaril flushed red with rage at my attempted insult, and threw the fireball at us. However, he threw worse than a drunken baseball player from a team whose socks are red, and missed us by a mile.
"Impudent dwarf! Know that you will die in agony so terrible that your ancestors will wince in pain and sympathy. Then, I will tear the false ears and tail off that child, and prove that she is a fake, and that the beastkin are extinct, before sending her to join you in the halls of your ancestors. Now die! You worthless, insignificant, pathetic, dwarves!" Throughout his entire rant, Elnaril was tossing fireball after fireball at us. Those that struck Gerde's shield were reflected back at him, while Bekhi and I dodged the rest with ease. The fight couldn't go on though, with every fireball flung, the wooden floors and walls were increasingly ablaze.
"Kvalinn! Defend Gerde. I'm going to take out that #$%^!" Bekhi yelled to me over Elnaril's ravings.
I spotted the glow of magic, similar to one of my runes, coming from an elaborately carved bracelet on Elnaril's wrist. "Go for the wrist! that bracelet probably works the same as Ulyanna's staff." Ulyanna was a wizard who had been a commander of the mercenaries and adventurers on the Vermogen run and she had mentioned that a human wizard could not cast magic without a staff. Bekhi nodded in understanding, but before she could make her move, a calm voice cut through the chaos.
"That will not be necessary. Brother, control yourself." I whirled and saw an elf with features nearly identical to Elnaril's standing in the doorway. His robes were slightly more expensive than his brothers, and he had a silver circlet that was intricately carved and jeweled adorning his forehead. The only other difference between the two brothers, was that the elf in the doorway had slightly darker brown hair that had a few gray hairs streaking through it.
Elnaril conjured up another fireball while swearing at his brother in their language, but before he could throw it, the elf in the doorway snapped his fingers, and it dissipated into thin air. Before Elnaril could summon another fireball, the elf in the doorway uttered his own spell that shot a jet of water from his palm, thoroughly dousing the fire and knocking over Elnaril.
Sputtering and soaked to the bone, Elnaril tried to get up to continue the fight, but his brother hauled him up by his collar. "That will be quite enough, Elnaril. Go pay off your bets, and then wait for me on the ship. You are not allowed to disembark until we return home."
After seeing Elnaril off, his brother pinched the bridge of his nose for several seconds, as if dealing with a massive headache. The guildmaster chose this moment to emerge from his office on the second floor.
"Ulriks undies!" The guildmaster swore. "What happened down here?" He yelled for his employees to get out of the break room, and then scolded them over letting a magic fight break out in the guild building. Once they had been thoroughly lectured, he set them to close up shop for the night, a task that should have been done a while ago. He then turned to the elf, who towered above him by several inches. "Excuse me, Mr…?"
"Valtnur of house Aedahl." Valtnur kept his fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose, and did not bother to look at the Guildmaster. I blinked in surprise. That had been the name that Lasraichean had said would contact me about getting us to the elven island.
"Mr. Valtnur. The Adventurer's Guild is closing for the night. If you have any business to discuss, we open two hours after dawn. We will also be sending you a bill for the damages done to the guild building during your magic duel."
"It would not be the first time." Valtnur murmured as he opened his eyes. Then, ignoring the Guildmaster completely, he looked down at me and Gerde. "You are the dwarf Kvalinn and the beastkin Gerde, correct? I would like to meet with you privately. Guildmaster, I require the use of your office." Valtnur spoke as though he expected Mercer to just bow and give up his office without saying anything. Naturally that did not happen.
"Excuse me!? I already have a meeting scheduled with Kvalinn. I must ask you to leave as we are closing for the night. If you must speak with Kvalinn then you can do so at a later time."
Massaging his temples, Valtnur muttered something in his language before resuming in Imperial. "If Kvalinn is here for the reasons I assume, then you will need my perspective. I will join the meeting. Now if you are done wasting my time, lead the way to your office."
Before Mercer could summon his employees to throw Valtnur out of the building by force, I spoke up. "It's alright, Mercer. I expected to hear from an elf named Valtnur, I just didn't expect it to be so soon. If you do not mind him joining us, I'd appreciate an elf's perspective on what I'm about to tell you."
Sighing in resignation, Mercer nodded and led the way up the stairs to his office. Once everyone was seated and served some tea, a drink that my dwarven body rejected as being completely disgusting, he began the meeting. "So, Kvalinn. You sent me a message this morning asking to meet with me as soon as possible but what's this about? And how do you know Valtnur?"
"It's a long story, and you may want something stronger than tea." I then proceeded to tell Mercer about how the god of fire had warned me that the goddesses of ice and snow were angry that Gerde and I had killed their dragon.
When he heard that the gods were involved, Mercer immediately opened a desk drawer and poured out a large glass of what smelled like extremely strong alcohol. "Why me? Why now? Why didn't I retire last year when I had the chance?" He asked no one in particular. He then threw back the entire glass before pouring out another one and addressing me. "Those two gods are among the most dangerous known to humans. According to legend, it was a fight between them and a couple others that created the unique landscape of Vermogen. If you angered the goddesses of snow and ice then you need to run. Not to save your life, that's as good as gone, but to save the lives of every citizen of Vermogen!"
"This is where I come in." Valtnur said as he elegantly sipped his tea. "We elves have a special relationship with the gods, and should be able to protect him against any celestial retribution. I would be willing to host Kvalinn and his family at my estate in perpetuity… For a price." He then took another sip of tea, exuding smugness from every pore. He had the smarmy air of a doctor who had a monopoly on a lifesaving procedure but was holding out for more money.
I had to hold Bekhi back from splitting that smug elf's skull. She then glared at the Guildmaster. "Mercer. Kvalinn can make a weapon to fight the gods. Just give him a forge and access to any ancient books your country might have and he can make anything."
"Not gonna happen." Mercer shot Bekhi down without a second's hesitation. "For one thing, any ancient books in Vermogen would be under lock and key in collector's vaults and they wouldn't allow him to access the books without months of negotiation. Secondly, a fight against the gods would be even more destructive than their wrath coming down. Or at least it would be according to legends."
"Also." Valtnur said with just the tiniest quirk of an eyebrow. "Do not think of your victory against the dragon as your own. The beastkin girl used every last drop of her magic in fighting that legendary beast, putting her very soul at risk to defeat it. To defeat the gods with the weapons you are capable of making, she would have to give her life many times over and even then that might not be enough." He took another sip of tea before glancing at me and Bekhi. "I have collected samples of your work from intelligence gatherers, and I can say for a certainty that you do not have the necessary knowledge or power to make celestial class weapons."
"So that's what happened to my thrown weapons." Bekhi grumbled. "You had spies and scavengers in the Assembled Armies."
"Please, 'spies' is such a pedestrian term for the work that the Council Intelligence does on behalf of the island. But yes, due to the amount of valuables that will be purchased in the coming days, we have found it useful to make sure that nothing is switched out, stolen, or poisoned to strike out one of your crude grudges. I received their reports yesterday, Bekhi Mubrimssdottir, if you politely request it, then I may find your discarded weapons among their report submissions." He emphasized Bekhi's name, even though we hadn't told it to him, as if to make it clear he knew more about us than he let on.
Bekhi started loudly swearing in dwarven at his high handed bargaining, he was acting as if he would be the one doing us a favor by returning our weapons. I covered Gerde's ears because the level of swearing Bekhi was spitting out would have landed her a hard R rating if this was a movie. Speaking loudly over her in the same language. "Bekhi, I appreciate your trust in me. But when I saw Lasraichean last night, he had a hammer with three celestial class runes. That's way beyond what I can make, and if the other gods have weapons that are even close to that powerful, then we're dead without this elf's help."
After a few more minutes of swearing that would make a sailor blush, Bekhi calmed down a little and resumed speaking in Imperial. "Thanks, I'll get my weapons back from you later. That's non negotiable. But one question first. If the gods of ice and snow can't get to Kvalinn and Gerde on your island, will they go after my family back on the mountain?"
Valtnur shook his head and gave the tiniest smirk. "No. If it were some of the other gods then it would be possible, but the goddesses of ice and snow are not that petty. However, you may wish to leave a celestial class weapon for your descendants to use in case they ever change."
Her question answered, Bekhi leaned back and softly resumed her swearing in Dwarven at Valtnur and elves in general for stealing her weapons. Ignoring her, and keeping my hands firmly over Gerde's ears, I asked the next question. "You said we would be living at your estate, but where exactly would we be living? I doubt you have any houses or guest rooms that are sized for dwarves to live in."
"Of course not. But it will be a simple matter to have a modest residence erected for your use that is nearby a forge."
"I'm guessing that making weapons for you will be the price you charge for hosting us at your estate?" Valtnur's brow twitched like a teacher who had a tough question answered by the class clown.
"You are wiser than your lack of beard would suggest." I instinctively rubbed at the fuzz on my chin, it was growing into a beard! It just hadn't coalesced into one yet. Valtnur took another sip of tea and continued. "There is something additional you will need to do, but this is more to assist you in living among us peacefully rather than as reimbursement."
"You want me to add runes to your armor as well?" I asked. Valtnur shook his head and leaned back with a conflicted look on his face.
"That would be appreciated, but no. You and your daughter will need to attend the Issanore Institute of Magical Studies." Bekhi and I looked at each other in surprise. Going back to school was around the top ten things that we least expected. Staring out the window, Valtnur spoke in a distant voice. "There are many reasons for you to attend. But the reason that I suspect would appeal to you the most is that the Institute professors can teach Gerde how to safely utilize her magic so that her life is never put at risk, like it was during the dragon fight and they can teach you how to use your own magic to create more powerful weapons."
"So Gerde and Kvalinn will go to your school, but what about me?" Bekhi asked with a suspicious frown. "Is there an Adventurer's Guild on your island for me to work at?"
"As if." Mercer muttered. "We've been tryna get a foothold there for generations, only to be rebuffed at every turn."
"For good reason." Valtnur coldly countered. "We have no need for boorish humans visiting our island for fame and glory. Also, our island is peaceful, if any adventurers were allowed on Issanore then they would be forced to leave due to lack of work." He then turned to Bekhi. "No, there is no adventurers guild. If you desire employment while your mate and daughter attend classes, then I will arrange for you to participate as a teacher in the classes that teach combat. I'm sure that they would welcome someone of your talents to encourage their students to not take a dwarven grudge lightly. As you saw from my brother's antics earlier, some of the younger generation have forgotten the wars our forefathers described from when they pacified the continent."
Pacified?! That's what the elves called their invasion of the continent thousands of years ago? According to ancient history, their rule was so tyrannical that the first hero from another world was summoned purely from the prayers of the humans across the continent. Even though that hero eventually became a demon lord, he still forced the elves back onto their island and they hadn't come back to the continent except to trade and visit to this day.
Bekhi seemed to like the idea of bashing and beating- I mean- teaching, elven students in the art of combat, so she leaned back with her swearing going down to PG-13 levels. Valtnur leaned forward now, like a cheap car salesman about to close the deal. "One final thing. While you are staying at my estate in Eraenanor, you will be required to attend any social gatherings that occur and the professors of the Institute will have the right to examine both Kvalinn and Gerde due to their unusual nature. Bear in mind. Refusal to accept my terms means surrendering yourself, and whoever happens to be nearby, to death at the hands of the gods."
"And if you turn down his offer, then I'll have no choice but to exile you from the country by my authority as Guildmaster." Mercer added as he squirmed uncomfortably. "I have a responsibility to the adventurer's who live here to make sure they don't get involved in a fight they can't win."
Bekhi looked over at me with pleading eyes. "Are you sure you can't make a weapon strong enough so that we can stay here? I really don't want to go live with those *&^%!"
"I'm afraid I can't. Even my doomsday weapons, the ones that would have gotten me kicked out of the mountain in our school days, barely chipped Noldroth's scales, and the gods are potentially way more powerful than that dragon."
Heaving a heavy sigh, Bekhi closed her eyes and let out a few more swear words that common decency forbids me from translating. "Fine. I guess we'll be living with the elves until the gods' anger dies down. However long that turns out to be."
I turned to Valtnur with hesitant resolve. "We accept your offer, and look forward to staying with you until it is safe for us to return to the continent. But I must insist that Gerde is never alone when being examined, or invited to your social gatherings without the supervision of either myself or Bekhi."
"Excellent." Valtnur put the empty teacup on the table and elegantly stood up. He then grinned as though he wanted to rub in a small print clause we hadn't noticed. "Come to my house at the elven portion of the city tomorrow at first light, and I will begin teaching you proper manners. Your current attempts at communication are entirely too boorish, even accounting for it being spoken in Imperial. Also," the grin soured like he had eaten a sour fruit, "While you are at The Institute, I am giving you the task of making sure my daughter passes her classes. You seem to be able parents." With that, he left Mercer's office, his robes fluttering in the wind as he quickly power walked down the street.
Mercer joined Bekhi in cursing out the elven race in his own language, before looking awkwardly at us. "Sorry I couldn't do more for you. Especially after you three killed that dragon and saved the entire Vermogen run from destruction, but we've got nothing to fight the gods with. The age of heroes is long gone, and we humans just have to keep our heads down and hope we don't draw the gods' attention."
"It's ok, Mercer." I said. "But if you could do me a favor, you said that Vermogen might have ancient books somewhere. If you could collect an updated list of those books, including who owns them, what language they're in, and where they are, and keep it here at the guild for me, I'll be back eventually for it. Either during your lifetime or your successors."
"Sure. It's the least I can do. Hopefully you'll get more worth out of those dusty old books than their current owners. I'll also see about leaving long term instructions in the local guild books to buy any whose owners pass away."
Before we left, Mercer personally processed our guild paperwork and gave us our quest rewards and new ranks. All three of us were now C rank adventurers, Gerde jumped every rank to be C rank purely from her exploits in killing Noldroth. He also paid us the quest rewards, as well as our portion from everyone betting on Gerde's survival. It was well over five hundred gold ($500,000), an amount that nearly set a record for guild payouts. The only higher payment made from the guild, was when the second demon lord was killed.
There was also the enormous amount that was paid for the monsters slain by Gerde and Bekhi. The regular monsters paid handsomely enough, but the biggest chunk of change came from the advance payment on the materials that would be harvested from Noldroth. Since we had only just arrived a few days ago, they hadn't had time to do more than a precursory inspection to confirm it was the legendary dragon, but they estimated that the sales of everything from its meat, scales, and even the bones, would be extremely profitable. So they paid us, as Gerde's guardians, another five hundred gold coins.
As Bekhi and I walked back to the inn in silence. We wondered how many grudges the dwarves had against the elves, and how many laws we were breaking by taking shelter on their island. Would we even be allowed into the Halls of the Ancestors after living among them? Unfortunately we had no other choice that we knew of, so Bekhi and I somberly feasted one last time before we had to go to the elven portion of the docks tomorrow, just in case they didn't have dwarven beer over there.