《Dwarven Steel》
Introduction: By Proxy
Sat upon a throne a Goddess beheld a small ethereal sphere held in her hand. Not like the humanized depictions of a god from the greeks, the Goddess herself was ethereal like the sphere, seeming to be a humanoid made of light like the sun. Only for a moment of time before she suddenly became a being made of a shaped water, then solid earth, metal and on and on always keeping a humanoid form with an air of majesty as every form was near perfection made from each material.
Staring at the sphere instensly the Goddess of Creation made the sphere float before her as she contemplated if she should go through with her plan for the sphere.
"You are an interesting one, I must admit, but that''s a problem in of itself. Far too different than my previous champions." The Goddess said aloud, more to help voice her thoughts rather than actually speak to the sphere. The sphere was a soul, a human soul. Whenever one came before her, the Goddess had to reassess her thoughts on the species.
Being the last race created by both her and her enemy together they were an odd bunch in both word and action. One of the few hundred species to use nucluer energy yet. One of the dozen that learned of it and used it early in their history and the only ones to nuke themselves not just once but twice, immediately after finding out how to use it. That last bit gave the goddess a headache that lasted a few decades.
Not to say that she''d pick one soul from them often, perhaps once every 5 or 6 centuries since her battles with her foe began. The Goddess rarely picked a soul from the near infinite amount of them, made from of thousands of sapient species created by both her and her enemy. Only an extremely small number of them would ever be touched by the Goddess or her husband, perhaps a few dozen both sides combined. Or her brother of sorts. The Goddess really didn''t know what she was really beyond very powerful, nevermind her relationship to the only other being of their caliber or age.
Not that either of them remember their early lives, at that time they justexisted. They just were. No thoughts or opinions just some vague semblance of a force like water or fire. Not bad or good, just something that existed. Like a rock. Is a rock good? Is it bad? No, it''s just a rock. Of course, comparing the possible two creators of the entire universe to a rock is a bit shameless. It''s a crude comparison. Not that either of them knew if they were or not. Maybe the most hazzy of scenes would surface about that time for the Goddess, which wasn''t enough to convince herself she deserved the title of ''Goddess of All Creation''.
She was convinced however, that her friend was going too far with his actions in the last few millennium as the god of Destruction. Both of them were in a symbiotic relationship since they gained Sapience and only recently did the God of Destruction upset that balance between the two. By stopping to help create more life into the universe and also sending strange corrupted versions of her creatures upon many worlds to wreak havoc, even including ones they both worked together to grow life on. His creatures slaughtered sapient life of all forms indiscriminately.
Why he did this the Goddess did not know; but, he had begun to take action against her creations. A violation of their relationship which before helped both of them create the best life that they could together rather than apart. Which brought her thoughts back to the soul before her.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Continuing to stare down the human soul she admits, "You humans always seem to surprise me. So many souls from Earth are both the kindest and cruelest beings I have ever seen from among trillions of all life. Heroes and villians aplenty from you humans. Although, you my little one, are a bit different. Different indeed...."
After convincing herself, she says, "Which is why I will give you a gift different than those that were chosen for this task before you. Unlike the true heroes of your species that I grant a full reincarnation or the true villians that my enemy takes interest in, you are uniquely almost half of both. A bright golden core surrounded by dark clouds, a person who won''t hesitate for a second to destroy anything and everything in his path but one that will always pursue a righteous path to help others no matter the cost. Thus your gift for my gamble is that you shall be reincarnated on a recent world created by me. This peaceful world is one where the local population is under threat from my husbands destructive minions. "
Stopping for a moment before she adds, "But as a precaution your memories will be sealed, your identity locked and for all intents and purposes you will be a newborn soul. Until a time when you prove that despite those deep clouds of darkness in your heart you will always do your best to protect and help those that you can."
Clenching her fists by her side in frustration at the situation she finds herself in, she continues with a determined glint in her eyes as she says, "I have hopes for you little one. I hope you will take both from the light side of Creation and the dark side of Destruction to build a better future for your world and perhaps give me a key to push back my friend or show him reason. Farewell little one."
As she finishes speaking, the sphere that appears to be a uniform grey sphere phases out of that plane of reality to go to it''s new body and home. The Goddess almost thought she could see the golden core light up in anticipation and hear mad laughter echo in her ears.
Wondering if her mind is playing tricks on her for her actions she leans back on her throne and sighs feeling the beginning of a headache. She hated doing this, taking some among the souls awaiting reincarnation to be her champions. To indirectly fight for her, to suffer loss and pain fighting some abominations. To use her gift of magic for a fight she did not ever want. She just wishes to go back to the early days when her and her husband became more than just forces of the universe, when they both would work together to create lush and beautiful worlds made of mixes of her power of Creation and his of Destruction without worrying about the lesser gods or any other problems.
What could have driven her brother to it? And why did some of the lesser gods side with him? They know unless he can give them power they will die without the sapient mortals. What knowledge did he glimpse from the mortals or beyond their domain? So many questions and far too many things to do, the Goddess sighs once more before returning to warn and prepare her creations for the coming Destruction.
A bit behind the frontline fighting worlds of the Goddess and her creations, the grey soul shot towards it''s next body. In the orbit of a gas giant a blue marble stood in contrast to the motled and blending greens of the giant behind it. Into the atmosphere the sphere flies past dozens of moutains to the edge of the planets largest range, heading toward the highlands separating the vast mountains from a towering forest of trees that seem to be holding up the heavens themselves.
The soul shot through a small cliffs before entering a tunnel system. Following the straight tunnels until it reaches just above it''s target before sinking down into stone tiled floors. Going down hundreds of meters through stone and caverns it reaches it''s destination in a smithy, sinking through the stone to fly straight into it''s new body.
Chapter 1: A New Life
A babies cry sounds out in the house attached to the smithy. At the sound a hammer sounds out striking against metal. The sound of mail rattling as the door to the workshop opens. Heavy footsteps come from the squat doorframe, each step solid, firm and steady. A figurtive brick of dense muscle walking, the figure approaches a petite women. Sitting up in the bed she cradles a newborn child in a thick wool blanket.
Seeing the figure approaching the women is smiling as she holds out the child to be swaddled in a small sheet of newly made mail, an armor blanket. Gently wrapping the light mail around the child the man scoops the child into his arms and stares at the small bundled child. Holding his child in the woolen and chainmail blanket the man is utterly overwhelmed. While creating the mail he could block out all thoughts and worries, but looking down at the small bundle he couldn''t stop himself. He was looking at his one of his greatest wishes come true, a son of his own.
A smile breaks out from behind his bearded face and he hugs his wife before turning. Tears streaking through the grime and dust from the workshop, he looks over to the midwife and a small group of visitors.
Five men and two women, all but a single tall female, are dwarves. All the men are grinning towards the new father while the midwife is holding her head high in satisfaction at a job well done. The one standing out most from the group is a thin female mage clad in a deep forest green robe. By her side stands a ash fighting staff loosely in relief. Towering over everyone, her elven ears, light skin and lithe form is out of place among the squat muscular dwarves surrounding her. Stepping past the others in the group the youngest man among them, evident due to him having the shortest beard of all the men in the room, bows deeply in front of couple.
"In darkness does the fire still burn bright?" The young man asks.
"It survives the darkness and a new man has joined the fight." The new father replied back.
Nodding, the young man brings his right fist to his heart before sprinting out the doorway. The sound of his boots clap against the polished stone floors before he can no longer be heard by those in the house. Grinning the father imagines the look on his clansmen''s faces as the messenger brings the news to the main household. And then he imagined the hungover look of the entire clan after today''s celebrations and starts chuckling.
After the young man leaves the rest of the group step toward the couple together. Smiling but still feeling quite out of place the elf speaks in common to the mother. "Quite strange these traditions of your''s. While I understand how important a child is for your race considering how often it is you actually give birth, as my race is the same situation, I cannot help but to think it seems a bit over the top in some aspects." She says eyeballing a armored warrior standing guard across the room.
Standing near the entrance where the messenger just left, stands a grey bearded elder dwarf. Covered in scalemail over a padded gambeson and topping it off with a spectaclehelm he cuts an imposing figure. The man almost looks like an ancient statue holding guard over some ancient holy ground or ancient kings tomb. Holding a hammer, tall if not taller than himself, the old man eyeballs the elf and snorts, "It''s an ancient tradition elf, older than my great grandfather''s father. And I been makin curse words longer than ye been jumping in ye trees."If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
"Ignore him Elenora, he''s just a old timer remembering tales from his childhood. His great great grandfather was known to tell the children stories of the war with the elves when both of our races met. This old man is one young ones who had the ''privilege'' of having to listen to those stories." Says a man in the group.
Clad in a elaborate embroidered cloth tunic and leather trousers, the man looked the part of a weathly merchant visiting a noble customer. With a potbelly to match his image, he stood out from the other three men. The other three are in tight fitting working clothes and with the muscle to fit them, the three seem more fit to be in a workshop or mine than be on a social call unlike the potbellied man.
"Aye the old man still thinks oh hisself as some kind oh warrior. Like theres anyone that actually wants teh fight wars anymore." The wiry man of the group says.
"Now now Kurrock didn''t yer mother teach ye to respect ye elders? The ol man might be a bit unusual for learning te fight but he''s a master of his own craft just like ye an me. So stuff it like that furniture ye make." Rebutts the least muscled of the three men.
After giving both the men by his side a slap on the head, the last man in the group steps forward from the group. An old dwarf with a pepper jack beard he speaks up, "Alright alright if ye all have satisfied yer incessant need for chatter let''s get the legal proceedings out of oh the way." Clearing his throat before speaking the dwarf straightens until he stands ramrod straight exuding an authoritive aura. "I, Norbrok head of the blacksmithing guild as well as the combined representatives of the other Dwarven guilds of the town of Ah-Dwasill, recognize the creation of the new Steelguard clan. As a Clan you are entitled to one vote in the regional Clan gathering. Also you will receive the whilst right to own land for rent, the right to produce goods for the kingdoms military among other privileges. You are obliged to provide at least one recruit for the local militia every 50 dwarven standard years, who will be in the militia for 10 years minimum. This is subject to adjustment as your Clan grows and will be accessed every 100 years......"
After the formal announcement which had gone on for awhile, the man slumps down for a moment to take a deep breath. Shooting back up the man breaks out in a large smile. "Great! Now that we got all that useless legality shite out oh the way, congrats you two!" Almost shouting it out, the rest of the group also break out in smiles. One by one the men shake the newborn father''s hand before promising to go drinking together next time they meet at the guildhall. The elf stands near the mother, trying her best not to break her self imposed cool and calm demeanor. Talking politely with the mother for a short while the mage leaves to return home in the nearby elven city.
After a bit of banter the group leaves. Probably to go back home to celebrate. Dwarves don''t have children often and a dwarf will use any opportunity they can to celebrate. With the group gone, the elder dwarf nods at the couple before leaving himself.
Now the small new family is alone in their new clan hold. Sitting together, the father holds his small child smiling gently before speaking. "Yer name, little one, will be Zarant. Son of Thangral and Asralda of the Steelguard clan"
Chapter 1.1: Curiosity
3 years later.
On a work table were a wide range of tools spread out. Chisels, hammers, brushes and materials sat strewn wherever they were dropped. Curls of metal and dark wood surrounding a shield. A small child sitting on the table watching his mother''s work.
Stepping back Asralda checked her work. Indented lines curved through the shield to form complex patterns, runes incribed within the curved grooves. The first piece of government equipment the clan has produced, it is a shield made for combat in formation. With two grooves made for resting long pikes or spears, it is a wonder who would receive it. Not many could afford any sort of enchanter, nevermind a rank and file militiaman. Checking her notes one last time, Asralda takes her child to the couch in the adjoining room before returning to the shield.
Taking a deep breath she begins to channel magic throughout her body to rest in her hands. The most dangerous part of the enchanting process was to give energy to ones work. To give words, thoughts and emotion the energy to carry themselves out in a manner dictated.
Placing her hands on the central glyph, a dull blue shine occurs in the circle surrounding it and slowly becomes blinding to the eye. Clearing her mind, Asralda slows her breath and closes her eyes. The central glyph begins to fill from all angles. Slowly seeping in from all sides the shine barely filled millimeter from any edge, before Asralda''s eyes shoot open. Her pupils exuding a sapphire glow. Her lips moving rapidly but no sound coming out, the glyph fills instantly. The light dulls, leaving the glyph looking like it has some sort of deep blue gas. The strange gas flows in some unseen current, sometimes trying to leave the bounds of the carved indent before dissipating into nothing. Her eyes dimming to their original state, her soundless chant continues. Then her chant ceases, her breathing ceases and she almost seems to become a statue. Then the sound she was waiting for. Like the roar of fire setting alight oil, the surface of the shield is covered in a blue layer of the gas before they return to their pathways.
Letting out a large breath, Asralda takes her hands off the shield. Dragging herself to the other room she collapses face first onto the couch next to her child. Or where he was supposed to be. Finally looking up, after 10 minutes of lazing face first on the couch, the look of distress on her face is evident after discovering her child isn''t where she left him. Despite more than a decade of childcare coaching from over a dozen mother''s in the clan Asralda had no idea what to do.
Meanwhile in Thangral''s workshop
Taking a break from his work, Thangral slumped back in his chair and starts rubbing his eyes. Coming without a end in sight, Thangral was up to his beard in orders. Feeling something stir underneath his work desk, he puts down his charcoal pencil and peers underneath. Cocking an eyebrow he stares straight into a pair of eyes similar to his own hiding underneath. Seeing his child underneath his workbench without his mother around, he grunts in surprise at his disovery.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
To his surprise his child grunts back. A quiet child, similar to both many other Dwarven children and Dwarves in general, Zarant had yet to attempt to speak to his parents despite some prodding on Asralda''s part.
Grunting right back at Zarant in acknowledgement before picking him up, Thangral sits Zarant on his knees. Watching as his son looks around in wonder the father chuckles at the simple fun the child had in his exploration. Sitting his child on the counter Thangral starts pulling out some tools from cubbies hanging above, ones he thinks the child won''t hurt himself with.
Grabbing some of them with his small hands, Zarant feels the tools out before trying to lift one. A small hammer used for delicate work, Zarant grabs it in the middle. Only lifting a few centimeters into the air, he drops the hammer. Metal thumping onto wood, Zarant grunts in surprise while staring at his father in awe.
Thangral almost laughs out loud, something about his sons simple antics amused him to no end. A beaming smile on his face, he watches as his son tilts his head and can almost see him working something out. Then he watches as Zarant begins using the thumping of the tools to make a sort of beat.
Now full laughing, Thangral joins in his sons way of cheering him up. Soon Thangral is thumping the workbench with his fists, hammers and other tools to create a small chorus of song with his son.
Soon Zarant tires and cannot keep up his part in their sudden performance. Seeing that Thangral grabs Zarant and puts him back on the floor, pointing towards the door before turning back to his work with his mood significantly better.
As a side note to Asralda''s panic, it is known and considered natural that dwarven and elven children don''t wander off or explore much. Perhaps a child might explore a room or small area around where they were placed in but never farther. A leftover behavior from their early history in their respective environments, wandering children could otherwise meet very very messy ends. Usually at the bottom of cliffs, pits and ledges for dwarven children. As for the elvish children they''d enjoy at least a 100 meter drop from their trees if they fell. And despite all of magical apptitude they might have, elves don''t fly.
In the full blown depth of her panic Asralda runs into the workshop next to hers. Going through the open doorway she seeks out her husband at his workbench. At it she can see him studying plans and orders for the next month. The pile of papers was a mess of orders and ideas. But on his face a smile could be glimpsed as he seemingly found some way to slog through the details of so many orders. Not that she cared about any of that at the moment. Grabbing his beard she pulled hard to get his attention. After a not very manly cry of pain, he yells at her, "What in the hellfires was that for!"
Silently glaring at him, it takes him a few seconds to realize his son isn''t in her hands. Looking around he glares right back at her before pointing towards the materials corner. Where the missing child was digging through scraps of precious metals.
Holding a over exaggerated theater mask, the child was looking through the eye holes and playing with it. An order from a elven actor, after finding he didn''t want it since the material didn''t suit what he wanted. So the green gold mask was thrown in the recycling basket before being found by the child who was obviously attracted to the shiny object.
Ignoring her husband''s glare Asralda hurries over to the child and scoops him up, along with the mask. Asralda thought if nothing else, perhaps it would keep the child sitting in one spot. She could only hope this would be the end of any trouble the child could cause.
Update
As this is a relatively new novel I feel obliged to say the next few chapters will be awhile. School, work and an overall dreary atmosphere makes me just wanna lie in bed and watch YouTube instead of being creative. Screw Ohio weather. Just as I gain hope that I won''t need gloves during work I then need another pair to go over the first. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
On another note, if you didn''t notice I''m trying to keep a one chapter per week deal. Will vary depending on IRL situation and ideas.
Also I''m probably gonna edit the hell out of chapters after they''re out. For some reason I find mistakes or have ideas more when they go out rather than when I preview them.
Chapter 1.2: Blinding Light
4 Years later
Ting.....Ding......Ding
Iron against stone, digging deep. Greedily and hungrily.
"Zarant! Honey get down here, it''s time to go!" Asralda''s voice rung out in the clan hall, reaching the upper floor and the tunnel the sounds came from.
"Coming Mom!" A squeaky voice replied from within
Before long a cacophony of sounds rang out from the tunnel. The sound of shifting stone, leather on stone, the rattling of mail.
Appearing on the 2nd layer balcony overlooking the clan hall a dust covered Zarant appeared.
Now barely considered beyond an infant in age, Zarant was 7 years of age. Underneath the gray dust of stone his brown hair was softened by tiny amounts of blonde. Steel with ice blue throughout, his eyes stood out in the dim lighting of the incomplete clan hall.
Sighing Asralda lamented her decision from three months ago.
After asking for advice from her home Clan mothers, the only solution she got was to use the same methods that dwarven mothers use to keep their teenage sons occupied. Which, while they kept the over active Zarant in sight and out of trouble, left Asralda dealing with completely new problems.
The current one being that she forgot to tell Zarant to clean up before they have to leave. And the one that immediately followed.
Grinning Zarant starts running before jumping off the balcony to grab a thick rope hanging from the ceiling. With all his spoils from the tunnel hanging on his shoulder in a cloth bag. Sliding down Zarant was halfway down before the overburdened rope snapped, leaving Zarant to fall. A small cloud of dust later and some panic from his mother and Zarant was still uninjured despite his fall.
"I keep telling you not to do that! Serves you right." Asralda nagged. Of coursing she wasn''t voicing her real concern that he''d just fall and hurt himself badly doing something like this. The only thing keeping her from stopping her son from activities like this was her husband''s advice.
"If he hurts himself, he hurts himself. But maybe him getting a few scapes might get him to learn something." She recalls him telling her after voicing concerns over dinner three months ago.
"Now go clean up, we''re going to meet my friend at the elven city. I promised you I''d take you next time I went but that means you have to be presentable, not caked in dust." She said while herding Zarant to the bath.
Stopping in his tracks right before the door, Zarant hefted his spoils in from his shoulders to the ground between him and his mother. Opening the bag he proudly presents his loot to his mother. "Look Mom! You said the elves don''t have stone over their homes so I got some for them!" Zarant boasted. Inside the bag varying flat shapes of stone about a inch thick.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Smiling wryly Asralda nodded but continued pushing her son towards the bath. Seeing his mother smiling but not able to understand the complexity of her facial emotions, he thinks he did good and rushes to get clean so he can help the elves.
After a short bath and a new change of clothes, Asralda smiles before telling her son, "Sorry Zarant, you did very good, but the elves have something else to cover their houses. You''ll see when we get there. So keep your stones here at home. Besides it''s a long walk and you''ll get tired carrying those around. Come on, let''s go." Smiling hand in hand with his mother, the two leave the clan hold and walk towards town without Zarants bag.
Along the way they meet with some of the towns outlying families. Not part of the clan but still landowners, many of them are mining out their homestead which is why Zarant knows many of them. For the last few weeks, they''ve met the child carrying sacks of rubble and excavated stone to the down stone masonry, the same as them. Thinking that he''s a very well meaning lad helping his family establish their own homestead, many of them greet him and his mother on their way. Seeing her son make a positive impact on others without his parents around gives Asralda a chunk of confidence. One that was missing due to his different personality compared to others.
Entering town the tunnels change from entrances to homesteads and residences into stores, services, warehouses and amenities for people from out of town. All essential trades were on display, the economy not grown enough to support speciality shops or luxury good stores.
As they passed through the pair couldn''t look anywhere without seeing some sort of construction. Teams of dwarves polishing the rough stone walls, engraving signs of businesse''s, outlining future features with chalk and in one storefront creating a window with lattice of stone.
Asralda missed the look in her child''s eyes, yet another unique quirk to him not seen in other dwarves. The child was watching all the activities like he was sorting every technique he saw, like every method was a piece to some great puzzle to him. Distracted by his mother''s advice to stick together, Zarant had no choice but to pay attention in the foot traffic.
Ignoring the side streets they headed straight towards the center of town. Arriving after wading through the crowds, they arrive at a large plaza surrounding a extremely large staircase. Arch leading into it, the two begin the hike up the great staircase leading to the surface. Capable of having troop formations march up them, the stairs had no problem holding the crowd of travelers, workers and merchants flow up and down their polished steps. As they went up, Zarant was witness to different scenes on each level. One was best described as a parking lot or some train station mix by Earth standards, another led to a grand fortress off in the distance and many other different facilities.
Arriving at one of the top levels, the two stopped for inspection by the local militia. While waiting, the two stood just before the exit with Zarant desperately trying to keep his eyes dry. The first time to the surface was a very large adjustment for the eyes. Before long the inspection was over and the two stepped outside for the first time.
Sheer cliff face on the right and a winding road carved into the cliff leading down on the left, both of them could see far into the distance. Looking over the low stone safety wall, the two could see green rolling plains transition into a heavens reaching forest the road led to. Pulling her son along after allowing him to experience an open sky for the first time, the two continued down the road.
1.3 Undergrowth
Peering over the stone safety wall, Zarant could see a radically different world than his underground home. Plains flowed in gently rolling hills away from the mountain cliffs, an encompassing bright blue sky, a forest that seeming to reach for the heavens. All of this could be seen from the entrance and Asralda let Zarant stare in wonder for awhile.
She could remember the first time she went aboveground and it was nowhere near a site as stunning as this. She could let him stare for awhile.
After some time, Zarant and Asralda turned away from the view as their attention was pulled by clops of hoof on stone. Coming from the end of the path, they could see a cart pulled by something coming towards them.
With the attention span of a child, Zarant promptly forgot about the view and stared at the approaching beast. Standing higher than a fully grown dwarf the beast of burden was latched onto a small carriage that rode on a pair of tracks. A short but full coat covering its body and small horns curving backwards, the beast would seem similar to wild mountain goats if not for its body being bulkier.
Still drawing its load towards the gates the goat needed no coachman to guide it, evidenced by a burly dwarf snoring in his seat behind the goat. As with most children, Zarant immediately tried to approach before being caught by the collar of his tunic. Pointing to their right Asralda drew Zarants attention to their transport down to the Elven city. With no animal to pull and with another of the burly dwarves in the coachman seat, other travelers were seating themselves on the small vehicle. Different that the arriving carrriage, this one sat on their right side of the road and was configured for passengers. Sitting not high above the ground it was open on both sides and the pair hurried to have a seat facing the edge. If they were going down the mountain, better to enjoy the view.
After confirming his tram was full, the burly dwarf on the coachman seat pulled a lever before getting off and pushing it from behind. In a few moments the tram started rolling and he jumped onto the back platform before making his way back to his seat.
Zarant and his mother watched as the world passed by, pillars of stone supporting the roof above occasionally blocking their view. Seated to the left of his mother and behind the driver of the vehicle, Zarant scrutinized the dwarf as much as he could from where he was sitting. Clearly differently dressed and similar to the dwarf from the first cart with the goat, Zarant made a mental note to investigate this different group of dwarves when he could. With his curiosity peaked and driven by fluffy creatures, nothing would stop the young dwarf.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Going fast as a sprinting dwarf the tram reached the bottom of the incline not too long after departure. Again the two were greeted with a gate near the small area where the tram stopped.
Although this one stunned Zarant as he felt he was about to enter a different world. Almost like a living creature that decided to conform to a person''s whims, the gate was made out of pale green wood in flowing patterns that formed the gatehouse. Flanked by two tall people in gleaming armor, even the gate was flowing from the ground up into a peak. Almost as if it was a result of nature than people.
Rolling her eyes at Zarants none too subtle awe Asralda pulled him along again by his collar.
''If this keeps up he might just fall over when we get inside the place'' Were her honest thoughts.
After a short chat with the gate guards who were familiar with Asralda, the two continued down the path. After passing through the gate, the road turned into a wooden suspension bridge spanning from the cliff road to the trees. Asralda was used to them and Zarant was too busy looking up to notice.
All around the two a city was arrayed among the trees, in all different heights from the lowest level they were at to the very tops of the trees. Vines hung from the gigantic trees, some in erratic patterns as nature demands and some arrayed as a floating or flowing garden coming down from the heavens. High above the two, nimble elves were busily seen flinging themselves between platforms using the vines to travel around at great speeds. In other areas the elves could be seen clinging to vines with only their legs as they collected food from them, chatting away with others near them.
As if he had a epiphany Zarant ran to the edge of the swaying bridge, focusing his eyes down into the dark depths of the jungle below. At only a few meters above the ground he spotted them. Sitting still against the chaotic backround of the jungle floor, hunters could be seen holding on to the vines by their legs or sitting on small chairs constructed of the vine wrapped around them. Statues on moving backrounds only occasionally did Zarant see one strike at the jungle below. Letting loose arrows into the dark Undergrowth, Zarants eyes couldn''t see the rope attached to the arrows but soon some hunters pulled up quarry from below.
Zarant backed away from the edge and ran back to his mother who had a patient feeling around her. Although she had expected Zarant to be curious about the city, she was pleasantly surprised that he had managed to connect together some facts to learn more about the elves. Many dwarves didn''t realize the situation for a few days when first visiting.
The two meandered through the congested swaying streets full of elves and dwarves, up a few levels and finally arriving in the center of town. In front on them stood a larger structure than the homes and businesses handing onto or carved into the trees. This building was built and spanned between a triangle of the giant trees and had a constant flow of elves entering with happy expressions. Few dwarves were in this area, maybe one or two could be glimpsed in the traffic.
Zarant not knowing how to read dwarvish yet, let alone elvish, couldn''t see any signs of what the building might be.
Smiling at her child''s curiosity Asralda told him, "We''re going to the theater."