Chapter 444 – The Dwarves

Chapter 444 – The Dwarf
A thick and sturdy figure was reflected on the polished bronze mirror, this reflection gave the impression of a thick stone pier, or a stone pier with limbs.

Soon, the “stone pier” moved, the reflection in the mirror gradually began to enlarge, until a big plush face occupied all the mirror surface.

Imar Stonemason carefully pinched a handful of whiskers in each of his right and left hands, gently twisted them, and then twisted them around each other, section after section, a pigtail took shape in his hands.

He pinched the end of the whisker braid in one hand, and with the other he pinched up small sections of silk thread and very neatly tied the braid tightly.

“Whoa! Look at this imperious face, it is not only imperious, but very fortunate, for it belongs to one of the best even among dwarves – Lord Imar Stonecutter.”

The Dwarf clenched his jaw and turned his head from side to side in triumph as he admired his reflection in the bronze mirror.

“To celebrate the thirtieth anniversary of the union of this imperious face and his great master, another braid needs to be added!”

As he spoke, he pulled up another handful of beard and began to braid and tie it.

With a crash, the entrance to the tent was lifted.

“Hammer on!”

In came a dwarf of about the same stature as Immael, with a rosy complexion.

His garb was a bit simpler than Imar’s, but his voice was louder, sounding as if a bell had chimed.

“Is the whole point of your life to fiddle with your beard?”

“Damn it, Barash, can’t you even be a little free on my birthday? It’s a matter of honor, do you understand? This one thing a Dwarven royal must have.”

Annoyed by the interruption, Imar turned to the intruder and yelled at him.

“Listen, my foolish brother, throw your damn royal majesty to the side for a moment. There’s work out there that needs your attention, the chief’s son’s are here and you need to be there to receive them.”

Unmoved, the Dwarf called Barash assigned tasks to Imar without mercy.

Imar held his head and screamed, “Hammer on, it’s that arrogant fool again, why do I have to deal with him.”

Barash extended his hand and pointed at Imar, “He is the ‘prince’ of this tribe, and you are also a ‘prince’, a fitting status.”

Because you’re a cocky, arrogant fool too, Barash added silently in his mind.

“Hell, so are you!” Imar yelled.

“Shut up, I’m leading this outing, that’s an order, not a request.”

Barash was uncompromising and Imar cursed as he lifted the tent and went out.

Looking at the puffed up back, Basra shrugged helplessly and followed out of the tent.

“Eh? Humans!”

As soon as he came out, he saw a certain figure that was slightly “slender” in the orc tribe, with a bearded long thin face, long curly brown hair falling naturally on his shoulders, a pair of deep-set eyes shining brightly, wearing a patched brown long-swinged leather coat, and the boots on his feet were also very old, like a down-and-out adventurer returning from the wilderness. adventurer.

At the moment, this down-on-his-luck adventurer was standing in front of his stall swinging an iron sword for trading.

The other party noticed Barash’s arrival and immediately put the sword in his hand back on the stall.

“Greetings! Honorable friend. I must say, your swords are fantastic.”

He bent in salute, putting on a kindly face, but not suppressing the look of curiosity and scrutiny in his eyes – most humans who had just met a dwarf would be curious.

“What is your business, human?” Barash asked nonchalantly. “If you see something you fancy, come up with an item of equal value in exchange, or gold or silver coins, we’ll take them too.”

Stanford laughed as a dwarf in front of him angrily ran past him, seemingly in a bad way, which matched the legendary image of a grumpy dwarf.

The one in front of him should be able to talk a little better.

“I’m not here to trade, I’m looking for a guide for my adventuring party.”

“A guide? Then you should ask more of the orcs of this tribe, they are familiar with this forest, and I am here for business.”

“Oh no no!” Stanford shook his head, “The people of the Blood Bull Tribe can’t fulfill my requirements. I wish to find a guide who can lead us over the Rocky Mountains.”

“Ha!” Barash was amused, he understood why the human was standing in front of his cargo stand.

“Then there’s even less I can do.” Barash exaggeratedly spread his hands, “Guest, if you have no intention of trading go somewhere else, please don’t get in the way of my business.”

“Don’t be so dead with your words.” Stanfordi handed over a box, “This is a gift for you, please make another offer, as long as it helps us get over the Rocky Mountains, I think we still give a good reward.”

“No means no, no Dwarf would lead an outsider into Dwarf territory. Besides, I can tell from the clothes and tone of voice that you are not a native of this forest, you are a human who came from the south.”

Barash opened his mouth with a refusal.

Stanford asked, “Do you have any …… bad impressions of humans from the south? Please speak up and perhaps I can explain.”

Basra waves his hand, “I do not wish to speak on the subject.”

Stanford had to pull out the contents of the box, a porcelain vase of the same model as the one given to Chief Asoye, the light reflecting off the polished walls of the vase drawing a dazzle from Barash.

“Voila! What an exquisite work of art. Mr. Dwarf, I hope you will look upon this gift as a gift ……”

“Who said anything about me taking this gift.”

The Dwarf’s gaze lingered on the porcelain vase for only a moment before he stopped looking at it.

“It just looks flashy, this thing breaks at the slightest touch right. We dwarves still like things that are thicker and more durable, the pottery vase is a hundred times better than this in my eyes.”

Well, you have a point there. Stanford, who had hit a nail, retrieved the ceramic vase with slight embarrassment.

“See, I told you these mountain dwellers were greasy.”

A voice came from behind, and Stamford turned around to see that it was the young orc Finn.

“My friend, why don’t you give me that porcelain vase, and I’ll act as a guide for you to bypass the Rocky Mountains and return to Aldo from the Nerodan Valley. I’ve followed caravans on this route many times and am familiar with it.” He had coveted the gift for the Great Chief after seeing it at the banquet.

“Uh …… that’s too far, I still plan on finding someone else.”

Stanford politely declined Finn, leaving the latter with a look of regret.

Hmph! Barash, who was listening to their conversation, sneered in his heart, go ahead and look for them, I’ll count it as a loss if I can find a Dwarf who is willing to lead the way for you.

Sure enough, Stamford wandered around the makeshift bazaar built by the dwarves and didn’t find anyone willing to act as a tour guide.

He returned to his lodgings to inform his companions with worry, and it looked like he had to execute the preparatory plan.

(End of chapter)