System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 53
“Mahakam, the Dwarves’ homeland, Mount Carbon, a miraculous fortress tucked in the ravine. Sunlight lights its domes, cloud-snow kisses its shutters, steel and flame forge its walls, mead and pine oil flow through the air.”
“Why our luck so bad? The beast that commands animals did not show, but a whole squad of armed Dwarves did.”
Roy and Letho had barely left the outpost when Dwarves, everywhere, rounded them up. This time they faced ranks of crossbowmen. Numbers alone made resistance pointless. Severin Hogg’s letter did not help; if anything, the praise in it backfired.
Roy sighed as the Dwarves led them deeper into the unknown woods for more than two hours. The temperature plummeted. Frost crept over the branch tips, each pine wrapped in silver.
Then a valley opened before them, ringed by mountains. People moved across a wide plain. Beyond the plaza, rising from the rock, stood the place they had come to see, Mount Carbon.
“Witcher masters, allow me to introduce, before you stands the capital of Mahakam, the Dwarves’ fortress, the shelter of an ancient people, Mount Carbon.”
Roy stopped and felt his stomach drop. He could not take his eyes off it.
Mount Carbon was carved deep into the valley wall. A kettle-shaped main keep rose at its heart, surrounded by sixteen satellite keeps and countless towers. The exterior was a gray-white mass; beneath the concrete frame the fortress wore a hundred-foot skin of black steel, raw and unyielding. It gave the impression of brutal, immovable force.
From a distance it lay in the rock like a sleeping beast. If it woke, the world would shake.
Roy had never seen such a Dwarf fortress in his memory, but it stood there, undeniable. Through gaps in the ramparts, hundreds of caves had been hollowed from the surrounding cliffs; Dwarves filed in and out of those mouths like ordered ants, endlessly supplying Mount Carbon with food and ore.
“Worth the travel to see this. Severin Hogg, you may have led us into trouble, but I won’t complain.”
Severin’s letter had been both a pass and a glowing recommendation. It spared them the first daft guards, yet it also drew the attention of every Dwarf in Mahakam. They were now politely invited to tour Mount Carbon and, incidentally, to help deal with the Dwarves’ troubles.
Letho’s face briefly flickered with interest. In a life that had seen a great many things, even he rarely encountered buildings so vast. Still, scores of crossbowmen had not lowered their weapons.
Letho’s skill mattered, but against a storm of bolts even he could not avoid becoming a pincushion. Twin trebuchets flanked Mount Carbon’s gate; they were not idle ornaments.
“Please forgive our crude greeting,” said the young Dwarf who spoke for them. He was Kelvin Hogg, nephew to the High Elder Brovar Hogg, and commander of the thirty or so crossbowmen responsible for security at part of Mount Carbon’s mines.
His frost-gray armor was dusted with snow, but it did not hide the pale tones of his natural fur. His beard and hair were white, making him seem older than he likely was. He carried himself with a Dwarf’s pride and a touch of arrogance. Rather than braid his long beard in the usual fashion, he bound the lower end with a silver-gray band, giving him an air of rakish rebellion.
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