Unrest in the Land of the Dwarves – Part 02

“So, this next move you’re planning—does it involve breaking one of the nations away from the Forestia Federation?”

“Hmm, something like that.”

“I assume it’s too soon to launch a military campaign.”

“Is that so.” The elder’s tone betrayed his disappointment.

Living for over 200 years and still so impatient, Kagurai thought. Or perhaps his impatience comes from living this long.

Even as a Man Gnome, the Seventh Elder had only a few decades left at most. Perhaps fifty years if fortune smiled upon him, but possibly as few as ten. It was no wonder he wanted to act quickly.

“Military action would only invite suspicion from other nations. Instead, there’s another move to make, and I’ve already set it in motion.”

“Oh? And what might that be?” The elder’s fingers tapped steadily on his knee, intrigued.

“Ironforge.”

Kagurai mentioned the Dwarves’ realm.

The elder’s breath caught, momentarily taken aback.

“Kagurai, are you seriously considering meddling with their affairs?” His hushed voice carried a hint of gravity.

The Distant Girdle standing nearby exchanged puzzled glances.

“Yes. If we want to unify the continent, we have to go through the Ancient Ones, beings that have been around as long as the Man Gnomes.” Kagurai’s tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. “Ironforge is home to Brigid, an eternal being. I intend to remove him from this world’s stage.”

“Are you certain about this? Do we even stand a chance against them?”

“We do.”

Kagurai smiled. His small frame made his smile seem like nothing more than a simple, youthful grin.

“While Brigid himself is formidable, the Dwarves around him are not. A small disturbance is already brewing in their country. And that seed of unrest will grow into a storm.”

His words ensnared both the Seventh Elder and the clueless Distant Girdle members.

“We will drive Brigid out of Ironforge.”

Kagurai’s statement was full of conviction.

---

“Gahahaha! Dodorono, your fashion sense has leveled up again!”

“You as well, brother! You’re looking more like a trendsetter than a blacksmith.”

When they left the holy city of Agiapole, Dodonno and Dodorono had been chatting about their shared passion for fashion.

“Are we there yet?”

“Not quite.”

But as they crossed into the Confederacy of Einbiest, their lively chatter gradually waned.

“…”

“…”

And by the time they neared the border of Ironforge, they had fallen completely silent.

Dwarves, by nature, loved smithing more than anything. They drifted off to sleep to the rhythm of hammers striking metal and warmed themselves in winter by the glow of their forges.

In such a society, Dodonno and Dodorono stood out as eccentrics with their passion for fashion. Not that Hikaru knew much about their upbringing in Ironforge, of course.

“Hush-a-bye, sleep now, oh sleep so tight. ‘Til my little one drifts to night, I’ll hammer the iron with all my might.”

“Huh?”

Hearing what sounded like a song, Hikaru, seated on the driver’s bench next to the fashionable Dwarf, turned to Dodorono.

“Ah, no. It’s just… Now that we’re close to home, these old lullabies come to mind.”

“You mean that was a lullaby?”

“Yeah.”

Dododono rubbed his nose sheepishly with a finger before humming the tune again.

Hush-a-bye, sleep now, oh sleep so tight.
‘Til my little one drifts to night, I’ll hammer the iron with all my might.

To keep you warm, the fire I’ll tend,
‘Til you drift to sleep, my work won’t end.

Hush-a-bye, baby, oh softly lie,
A song for my darling, no need to cry.

The clang of the iron, the craftsman’s song,
To soothe my dear baby all night long.

The Dwarven nation of Ironforge was nestled deep within the mountains. While there were areas of high geothermal activity across the land, they were far removed from the city, so the Dwarves braved the harsh winters of the highlands.

Forges were kept lit year-round for smithing, and in winter, the Dwarves naturally gathered around them. Babies would fall asleep to the rhythmic sounds of hammers striking iron.

“It was Lord Brigid who once said, ‘You can hear songs in the iron and gold, in the crafts created by Dwarves.'”

“Ah, you mean the deity the Dwarves worship?”

“Exactly. Dwarves live their lives striving to create works that will meet Lord Brigid’s expectations. Even I, who left smithing behind and wandered far from Ironforge, can’t help but think of him.”

“Have you ever met him?”

“Me? Of course not! Only the clan leaders have that honor. Even among the twelve clans that govern Ironforge, only the leaders catch a glimpse of Lord Brigid once every few decades. It’s said that long ago, he would descend to the cities and mingle with the common folk. Either way, Dwarves are said to be born cradled in his arms and spend their lives at his feet.”

And yet there were those like Dodorono who left their home. Hikaru kept his thoughts to himself. He felt that Dodorono was about to reveal something important.

After a while, Dodorono said, “We’re from the Red Rat clan.”

“The Red Rat Clan?” Hikaru echoed, unfamiliar with the term.

“The first of the twelve clans I mentioned earlier—that’s us, the Red Rat clan.”

“Really?”

“Yes. But my brother and I… we were born with an unusual preference for fashion over smithing. That made us outcasts, even within our own clan.”

“Dodorono, that’s enough,” Dodonno said, leaning out from inside the carriage.

“Let me speak, brother. Hikaru has come all this way with us. He deserves to know. What I mean to say, Hikaru, is that our father is the leader of the Red Rat Clan.”

Hikaru’s breath caught. He didn’t know that.

“That means either my brother or I was supposed to succeed him as clan leader.”

“So, you’re both bigshots.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just a fashion-obsessed idiot,” Dodorono said with a sheepish smile, scratching under his nose.

Dodonno forced a smile. “One of us was supposed to be the head. Neither of us had the heart for smithing. Staying in Ironforge became unbearable, so we left.”

“But since being a Dwarf who doesn’t smith reflects poorly on you, you’re still running a smithy,” Hikaru said.

“More or less. Even if we’re abroad, as the sons of the clan leader, we can’t afford to be seen as abandoning smithing. It would bring shame on our father.”

“I can’t help but feel guilty, enjoying myself while my brother can’t pursue what he truly wants,” Dodorono said.

“Don’t be so stiff. You send me the clothes you make, don’t you?”

“And that’s the problem! You’re pulling off those fancy clothes better than the ones I made. It makes me jealous!”

Dodonno laughed heartily. “I’ve been to almost every clothing store in Agiapole.”

Hikaru felt relieved seeing how their faces brightened when the conversation shifted to fashion.

It’s true that they left their homeland, but for these two, what’s really important is fashion.

Hikaru knew Dodorono well enough to understand that, even in lean times, he would prioritize buying good fabric over food. But he hadn’t realized just how deeply that passion ran.

“So, here’s the thing. When we return home, there may be those who recognize us, and they might not feel very warm toward us. In other words…”

“In other words, they might be hostile?”

“Well… yes. I’ll do what I can to make sure it doesn’t affect you, but it might get uncomfortable.”

Dodorono was too kind. Hikaru couldn’t help but smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hikaru said. “Anyway, we’re almost there.”

“Oh? Oh!”

From the driver’s seat, they saw rolling hills ahead, dotted with numerous tents. Beyond them loomed a steep mountain range. One peak stood taller than the rest, crowned with a massive anvil at its summit.

“We’re finally home.”

“Yeah.”

The Dwarf brothers’ words were brief, but Hikaru sensed a mix of emotions behind them.

The carriage crawled forward. The road was packed, with carriages tightly lined up around several buildings. Most of the passengers were Beastmen, hauling supplies to the camp and distributing them to the store.

“Huh? Stronger liquor? We don’t make anything like what Dwarves drink, strong stuff with no flavor!”
“Oh, you even repair knives here, huh. Not bad.”
“They killed a saber-toothed tiger? Really? If they’re that good, I’d like to spar with them.”

There were all sorts of people talking, some carrying the usual provocative taunts of the hot-tempered Beastmen.

“Hmm, seems like a lot of Dwarves have gathered here,” Dodonno said.

“There are over a thousand, brother.”

“What should we do? Should we look for acquaintances?” Hikaru asked.

“No. It doesn’t change what we need to do. Our priority is delivering this.”

He was referring to the Progenitor’s Shield.

“Got it,” Hikaru nodded.

Still, he couldn’t help but think, is the civil war more serious than I thought?

Ironforge called itself a nation, but it was really just a collection of Dwarves, with a population of about ten thousand. Losing even one-tenth of the population was a big deal.

And yet, there’s not much tension here.

Between the tents, Dwarves were sharpening knives and sickles, tools used in their daily lives. This was known as wild smithing.

The sound of metal striking metal echoed from furnaces built to handle coal. Hikaru wondered how the Dwarves could live here. Apparently, staying in a refugee camp did not stop them from continuing their craft.