To be honest, the journey hadn't exactly been smooth sailing.
With no clear path in sight, Eric had relied solely on memory, navigating through forests and over rocky hills in as straight a line as he could manage. He had taken the phrase "off the beaten path" quite literally.
Some of the terrain had been so treacherous, his horse had nearly failed a jump more than once.
So when he finally stumbled across a proper, well-paved road that clearly led to the dwarven stronghold, he was nearly brought to tears. Without a second thought, he urged his mount toward the glow in the distance, galloping like salvation lay just over the next hill.
Only when he neared the massive stone gate carved directly into the mountainside did he slow to a trot.
Eric craned his neck upward.
For people so short, dwarves certainly had an ego at least if their architecture was anything to go by. The gate towered so high he had to lean completely back just to take it all in. If the entrance alone was this grand, then the mountain had surely been hollowed out, the space inside no doubt even more massive.
"Ha! Behold the craftsmanship of our kind, human," came a sudden voice behind him.
Eric turned, finding a dwarf standing by the roadside, giving him a once-over with sharp eyes.
"You don't look like a merchant," the dwarf said, stroking a thick beard. "What business brings you here?"
Eric dismounted with practiced ease and offered a polite nod.
"My greetings. This is my first time visiting dwarven lands. I've heard your people's forging skills are second to none. I came to see it with my own eyes."
The dwarf beamed with pride.
"Hah! Then you've come to the right place. No one out there can match a dwarf's craftsmanship. Fine armor, sharp blades, so long as you've got silver, you can walk away with a king's ransom."
"Normally, we don't deal with strangers, but you… you've got the look of a fighter. A seasoned one. If it were up to me, I'd be happy to sell you a thing or two."
The dwarf was surprisingly warm and chatty. Noticing Eric looked a little lost, he even pointed him in the right direction.
"If it's a place to stay you're after, turn right once you pass the gate. For weapons and gear, head left there are smithies, and a merchant caravan just returned."
"Thanks."
Bidding the friendly dwarf farewell, Eric led his horse forward, quietly musing to himself.
Whoever said dwarves were rude clearly hadn't met this guy. If anything, he was more polite than most humans.
Passing beneath the massive stone doors, Eric stepped into the mountain's vast interior.
Dwarves didn't care much for traveling beyond their borders. Except for merchants, most of them lived and worked deep within the mountain itself.
This particular hall had become their new home after the fall of Erebor, and even though Eric had steeled himself for something impressive, the sight still took his breath away.
The mountain hall was… colossal.
The ceiling arched high into darkness, held up by stone pillars thicker than tree trunks. Iron chandeliers, hung from chains as thick as a man's arm, swung gently in the draft, glowing softly. Luminous stones embedded in the walls lit up stairs, balconies, and arched bridges that wove between homes carved straight from the rock.
And everywhere, the ringing of hammers and anvil echoed through the chamber like music.
Turning right as instructed, Eric quickly spotted what had to be the inn a multi-story structure bustling with dwarves.
"Welcome! Sit wherever you like!" boomed a round-bellied dwarf behind the counter the moment Eric stepped in.
"But first someone get the man's horse stabled! Move it, lad!"
A younger dwarf scrambled to obey, and in short order, both Eric and his mount were well taken care of. Moments later, Eric was seated at a sturdy wooden table, waiting eagerly for some famous dwarven cuisine.
Roast meat. Strong spirits. The scent alone was enough to make his stomach growl.
Luckily, Eric had picked up plenty of silver coins from the ogre den. It was dirty money, sure, but it bought him a full plate and more.
As the evening wore on, the inn filled with dwarves off work, and the once-quiet common room grew loud and merry. Tables were packed, mugs clinked, laughter echoed off the stone.
Naturally, Eric being taller, beardless, and not a dwarf stood out like a sore thumb.
"A human, eh? Haven't seen one of those in a while."
"Doesn't look like a trader. Probably a traveler."
"Not a bad build, though."
"He's got a good frame, but a sorry excuse for a beard."
"Wonder where he wandered in from."
Eric took a long breath and silently walked back the opinion he'd just formed.
Polite? Sure. But dwarves could gossip worse than old village ladies.
"Oy! My first human sighting! Let's have a drink to commemorate it, eh?"
A young dwarf suddenly raised a frothy mug of malt beer and waved it at Eric.
Eric raised a brow but responded in kind, clinking his own mug from across the room.
"HA!" The dwarf downed his drink in one go, then wiped his mustache with a loud sigh of satisfaction.
Eric was no slouch either. He drained his mug with practiced ease and flashed a smug smile, twirling the empty cup.
Whistles echoed.
"Drink him under the table!"
"Yeah! Let's see the human hold his ale!"
Within moments, a circle of rowdy dwarves formed around them, all hooting with excitement. Eric cast a hopeful look at the innkeeper, who just grinned and joined in the cheering.
Traitor.
"Well then!" Eric slapped the table. "Let's do it."
"You've got guts, human!" the young dwarf bellowed. "If you manage to outdrink me, I'll cover your whole tab tonight!"
Two casks were rolled out. Tables pushed together.
The drinking duel had begun.
Gulp gulp gulp...
They didn't even bother with food.
The dwarves were thrilled. No one in the region had managed to beat this kid before. They were about to see a human crash and burn.
Eric, on the other hand, was quite at ease. Drunkenness in this world was more of a status effect, and he had a few buckets of milk tucked away in his inventory. As long as he didn't overdo it, he'd be fine.
Plus, alcohol technically restored hunger. Even if he filled his stomach, he could still drink more… though the drunkenness buff would stack with it.
"This one's for… our fated meeting!" the dwarf slurred, raising his mug for the fifth toast to "fated meetings."
Eric, a bit amused, clinked his mug again. "You've toasted that one four times already."
Gulp gulp gulp...
The table in front of them was now cluttered with mugs at least twenty each, each holding well over a pint.
The dwarf's face was flushed, foam hanging from his mouth.
"Don't you… dare… throw up…" he warned, finger wagging unsteadily as his eyes started to drift.
Eric calmly set down another empty mug. "Oh? Is this the buzz everyone talks about? I think I'm starting to feel it."
Thud!
The dwarf collapsed face-first into the table, snoring, frothy drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth.
Eric's words had been the final blow to his pride.
"Victory goes to the human traveler!" declared the innkeeper, who had climbed onto a stool and was holding up Eric's arm like a prizefighter.
"Woooooo!!"
[Dwarves of the Blue Mountain – Reputation +10]