System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 54
Behind the black-iron throne stood a great statue hewn from green stone, its head level with the ceiling.
On the throne, the white-haired dwarf rested his elbow on a gilded arm, palm to chin. He wore a blood-red silk coat stretched taut over a broad, powerful chest. Snow-white brows knotted over a face carved with furrows, a face that did not need to scowl to command. His gaze rolled slow and deep; worry and wear weighed the eyes.
Two robed dwarf attendants stood on either side. They bent and whispered into his ear.
“High Elder, the men you asked for have been brought.”
Kelvin stepped forward and bent in a formal bow.
“Viper School Witcher Letho, apprentice Roy. My nephew Severin praises you highly. I should hope you are as competent as he claims; do not disappoint me.”
The old man’s voice rasped through the marble corridor like stone grinding on stone. It carried a cadence older than common speech, full of grave rhythm, and it lodged in the mind.
This High Elder was built like a lion, though age had weathered him. Even by dwarf standards he was advanced in years, a long-lived elder in a long-lived race.
Brovar Hogg.
Age: 198 years. Sex: Male. HP: 120 (Racial Trait: Toughness +20).
Title: High Elder of Mount Carbon, the recognized ruler of Mount Carbon, steward of all affairs in Mahakam.
Attributes: Strength: 10 (Stout +1) Agility: 6 (Short and stocky -1) Constitution: 10 (Stout +1) Perception: 7 Willpower: 8 Spirit: 6 Charisma: 6 (Short and stocky -1)
Skills: Ancient Smithing LV10, centuries of unremitting practice have honed his craft beyond ordinary reach. No weapon or armor lies beyond his forge. “Mastery” is too faint a word—his hands turn rust into radiance, scrap into legend. Even after time away from the anvil, his skill remains unmatched, holding steady at the pinnacle of this world. Anything he forges is a family heirloom for knights, soldiers, mercenaries, or Witchers; even relics from antiquity could be remade if he had the plans and materials.
Two-Handed Mastery LV10, years of battle and relentless training have sharpened his command of great axes, spears, polearms, and warhammers. When wielding a two-handed weapon his attacks gain a fifty percent bonus to destructive power.
Resilience (Passive Trait), dwarves live long, hardy lives; adult dwarves have twenty more HP than humans.
Stout Strength (Passive Trait), skilled with two-handed tools and weapons; dwarves gain +1 Strength and +1 Constitution.
Short and Stocky (Passive Trait), their squat, potbellied bodies move slower than a human’s and often displease other races; Charisma and Agility are lowered by one.
Danger Sense LV5, years of life-and-death trials have sharpened his instincts to a fine edge, granting an uncanny perception that senses threats a heartbeat before they strike.
The rest omitted.
Those attributes set Brovar apart, though not all of it surprised Roy; long experience taught him to expect power gilded in many names. The Ancient Smithing skill caught his eye; Letho had long lacked a silver sword he could call his own, and Brovar’s forges might hold such a blade.
Letho glanced at Kelvin, who still knelt on one knee. He spoke, even-toned and unbowed. “Elder Brovar, we came as you requested. With respect, your reputation and authority in Mahakam are great. One word from you and Roy and I would have obeyed. There was no need to bring us in as prisoners.”
“Kelvin, how did I instruct you?” Brovar asked, voice flat with mild rebuke. Kelvin’s proud posture crumpled without a word; he bowed his head, taking the rebuke in silence.
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