by deSouza, Leo
The Eastern Dwarfs
Part One: The Red Fields
By
Leo deSouza
Copyright © 2016
Check out the official website for free sample chapters and illustrations.
www.theeasterndwarfs.com
Legal notes.
Copyright © 2016 by Leo deSouza. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Thank you Katy.
Introduction.
The Eastern Dwarfs is a trilogy novel about the four dwarf houses of the east. The books will immerse the reader in a classic imaginary world we already love, while bringing fresh content for a completely new saga. New characters, landscapes and an entire plot telling the story about how the dwarfs of the east dealt with an unknown threat. A charming adventure for readers of all ages.
Table of contents:
Legal notes.
Introduction.
Berries and blood.
Pork and pie.
An audience with the King.
The muddy road.
The lost caravan.
Battle on The Trade Meeting Post.
Bad omen.
Entering the Rocky Desert.
Devil dust and maggots.
The wilding dwarfs.
Dwarf diplomacy.
An intriguing traveler.
Scuffle in the Boulder Village.
The merciful dwarf.
The Beige Plains.
The Noon Dale.
Memories on water.
The Carpenter Elves.
The Soothsayer.
The Ivory Tombs.
The Blue Wizzard.
Farewell and good luck.
Map.
More about dwarfs.
Berries and blood.
On the extreme east of the great World, lay the four houses of the Eastern Dwarfs. The Steel Fist, known for the physical strength of its heirs, and the RockFoot, known by the stubbornness and tenacity of its folk. There were two others, the CoalLock with braids in their long hair and beards and also the Thick Beards, famous for their rigid and wide beard. These were folks who dwelt the eastern lands of this vast realm, though in the west they were known by different but similar names, and along the years of this era many notable events have taken place in this land, but the stories of the people of the east have never yet been properly told.
This realm was a vast and exotic land known as Red Land, populated by some races of men, elves, dwarfs and even an odd kind of goblin, the red ones, known by their reddish skin tone and extreme aggressiveness, a strange folk that lived on the prairies, even more savage and brutal than their western kin. Not living under the rule of any tyrant or tribal hierarchy, these goblins were spread in small groups and devoted themselves to looting and theft, never forming large armies or garrisons, and never wishing to become part of any war, except when they entered the conflicts generated by their own stinginess and sordid interests. This evil kind liked to ambush and kill travelers as they walked unaware across the steppes. This type of creature was rare and their number was not nearly a match for that of the large goblin infestations of the western mountains. Brutish as they were, these who inhabited the Red Land were wiser and smarter in evilness and ruin. One could easily recognize them by the earrings and ornaments that they wore hanging in their wrinkled ears and noses. They were usually no concern for other peoples living there, for the dwarfs in their halls and fortresses, and the men in their large cities had armies and weapons that the goblins could not challenge.
The men there were eastern kind, a grim folk that dwelled the far eastern lands and had a vast kingdom, ruled by cruel Kings and dragged by pitiless warrior masters, these men had no strife with the dwarfs of the Red Land, but the times were changing and the war rumors had spread across this part of the World too. Even in the far Red Mountains there were tidings about struggle and about large armies moving westward, these were times when no one trusted his neighbors. The kings of these men these days were mysterious leaders and shrewd planners, not much was known about their means and purposes, but as the shadow became larger and took many parts of this World covering it with omens of war and death, the old memories about kings of the old days had come back, and now somehow made their influence felt again as if emanating their malignant presence directly from the world of the dead.
One interesting thing about that land was its landscape, which had a unique type of ground and rock formations, different trees and soil, and a sunset that could only be witnessed in this part of the World. The muddy earth was red and the vegetation had a brown tinted foliage, one could not see much green there, these landscapes were very different from all the rest. Many creatures dwelled there, big animals of many kinds, some of which were even used in war, these were the lands of the great beasts and mysterious inhabitants, the holders of the last known frontier before the unknown vastness beyond the Red Mountains to the land which is not known in stories or legends and where no road goes, where there are no maps, the unknown limits of the this realm.
In this strange land, at this exact moment, two dwarfs from the house of RockFoot were walking through a field at some distance from their home, the RockFoot fortress on the extreme north portion of the mountain range, they were looking for berries to add to the pig roast that they would eat that night. One of them was Rurur, a sturdy dwarf dressed in leather, a little fat and podgy, his hands resting on the wide belt around his waist, he walked as he hummed:
“As soon as the red sun rises in the east
and all the land burns in yellow,
we know that our land is the most fortunate,
for here the sun rises first.
Nothing is like the morning sun on our skins.
Unlike the cold and lifeless west,
where the mist covers everything,
where the sun goes into hiding shy,dying at sea.”
This is our land, the Red Land of the four houses.
Yet no man or any kind,
can say they are more fortunate than us.
Because we are the ground, and the ground is us.”
The other dwarf, Olaf, leaned his head and twisted his mouth looking at him. "Someday ye will end up sticking that thick-skinned foot on a spearhead!" He said as he walked through the brown grass. Olaf was a little bit more burly and had a shorter beard, but in essence he was a dwarf like any other.
"Yes and then the spear will bend, it has happened before." Rurur replied as he raised his foot pointing to it. "RockFoot we are called. And this is why they sent us in this task, for none is better prepared to walk long distances and handle the sun as I do."
Olaf shook his head. “Why do ye think madam Blavat sent us here? She knows ye are the fittest to find a berry bush than any other, ye can feel its smell from very far.”
“Oh… This is for sure, but one should not feel ashamed for liking food.”
“Then this is why she sent me alongside ye. To prevent ye from eating the berries.”
“What ye saying? I have much regard for my folk, and I would not commit such a rudeness.” Rurur replied with his rough voice.
Olaf motioned for him, aloof. “Yet more berries are necessary for a decent meal.” He said.
“Do ye see any more fruits? I think we have already picked them all.”
“We go further… There are always more berries. It is a vast land until the sea.”
“Then we can keep on to the other side of the World looking for berries, if ye think our feet can handle
it.”
Now Olaf gave a blow in the air. “Ye can go back empty-handed and tell everyone that there were no more berries, lazy rascal!”
Rurur just grunted, they kept walking now with some effort as they were climbing a slightly sloped part of the terrain. Already it was late afternoon and the sunlight made the place golden while the grass glistened, there were some sparrows flying around and there was a soft, warm breeze. Nothing could be heard but the birds, the wind in the leaves and the footsteps of the dwarfs in the grass. They were distancing from the road to look for berry bushes in more hidden areas, into the fields; the fruitful trees on this portion of land were more abundant than in any other area around the fortress, and actually quite abundant if compared with any other place in the entire east. There grew many trees and bushes that could provide a good amount of berries and they were not that tall, so fitting the size of the dwarfs for them to reach the fruits on the branches. Some said that was luck for the dwarfs to have such type of trees around, some say that this was actually one of the reasons that led them to build their fortress there.
Now Rurur spoke again: “Have ye ever heard about wereworms? They say they live in the ground, right under our feet, they are like giant worms, the size of a tower of many levels, and that they can dig holes in rock, large enough for an entire army to pass. And they even say that there are wise orcs in the west that can control them.”
Olaf grunted. “This is the biggest foolishness I've ever heard in my life. There are not such things. It looks more like an absurd story, written by a very bad writer, to please silly children. I have heard stories about wereworms, and they are big, but not that big.”
“At least that is what they tell around.” Rurur replied as he shrugged. He came gently passing his hand through the high grass while he walked. “Ye know… There are many good stories around, werewolf stories, vampire stories, undead stories and dragon stories, and doubting them is killing the fun about it.”
“Dragons are all dead.” Olaf replied.
“Oh really? So where are their corpses? There would be their big bones for us to see where they died.”
“Hunf… They are all rotten, of course, there was a big one, I mean, the biggest of all, killed by a mighty elf hero… I forgot his name now… Another one was killed by one of our kin, but this one was not a dragon, not properly, must be buried somewhere else, even those dragons who fled wounded must now be dead on some mountain peak. They say some dragons swallowed the heroes who tried to slay them, even some from our kin. That gives origin to the legend that some of these creatures actually swallowed magic rings and other artifcats together with their bearers.”
“What about the sylvan elves? I have heard that they are like jugglers… That they can jump very far and do many tricks.”
“Ye know that there are elves who live close to us in the south, we've seen them once, a few years ago, in the festivals.” Olaf replied.
“Yes but, I'm talkin' about the elves of the forests of the west, as they say.”
Olaf stopped walking and put his hands on his belt, taking breath as he looked up to the sky. “They tell many stories, and I don’t believe in many. Ye should stop listening to these childish stories. And ye should work more. Why don’t ye go the forges and ask for a good hammer? There be many door hinges to be repaired, and many wagons to be adjusted. And a body that works keeps a healthy mind, a mind that does not think about foolishness.”
“Maybe I'll go to our cousins’ house, Steel Fist cousins, and ask for a good hammer, but that would be a work hammer, not a war hammer, I'm not meant to be a warrior.”
“What if ye ever come across someone who wants to kill ye? A red goblin, or a man. Anyway, hammering a nail is not that different from hammering someone's head.” Olaf argued.
“Did ye ever get into struggle with a goblin, or even with a man?” Rurur asked.
“Well… Not exactly a struggle but an argument that almost ended up in slapping and punching.”
“With a man, or with a goblin?”
Now Olaf spat on the ground, took a long blade of grass and put its tip in his mouth, chewing it. “Did ye ever hear about anyone arguing with a goblin? Ye stupid wretch!”
Rurur just twisted his mouth and snorted as they began to walk again. The dwarfs went ahead and among some bushes but none of them had fruit, some more walking and Rurur stopped again, to take a breath. “I think there is no more at all. Let’s go back, there are already enough for some pies, and who cares about pies after all when ye do have pork?” He spoke.
But Olaf gave no answer, he climbed a small mound and stood there looking ahead. “This is why ye keep fat and lazy, Rurur. I wonder what would happen if ye was the one responsible for things related to safety and order in the stronghold.”
Rurur furrowed. “Why do ye think they would put me in such a charge? I’m not someone appropriate for these kinds of things. But hear me, Olaf, I ask ye. What do ye think that would happen if there were not one like me to take care of the other matters besides safety?”
“What kind of matters?” Olaf asked with a sarcastic tone.
“Matters like… Taking care of business relationship between folks.”
“Oh ye!” Olaf exclaimed. “Guess ye refer to your… Intervention in that trade agreement.”
“Well, yes. Ye must admit that without me things would not have ended up well on that occasion.”
“Ye had got yourself into a negotiation that had nothing to do with ye. And no one invited ye.”
Rurur talked as he motioned: “Yes but in the end it was me who arranged things and proposed an agreement.”
“And ye charged them for this!” Olaf continued.
“A small quantity, nothing more than fair.”
Olaf squinted his eyes as he looked at something far. "That's what I think it is?”
Rurur looked out to check. "I see red dots among green and brown… Yes it might be."
Both quickened their pace and walked down the mound towards what they saw as their feet kneaded the grass of the field. As they got closer they could see the berries on a nearby bush ahead, and they went there as someone who arrives late for a dinner.
"Don’t eat it!” Olaf exclaimed. “There is not that much and we must take it to the madam, otherwise she will kill us."
They reached out to take some of the fruits.
"I already told ye, I'm actually not that interested in these fruits as the pork waits for us.” Rurur said.
They stood there as they took the fruits and kept them in a leather bag, their hands were already red from the juice of some smashed berries as their fingers where too thick for such a task. Olaf suddenly stopped and looked at Rurur’s face. “What is this red thing leaking from your mouth?” He asked.
“What? I need to taste some to know if they are mature.” Rurur replied.
Olaf one more time shook his head. The bags were almost full when they heard the heavy tread of something walking on the grass ahead, beyond the bush. Olaf stood on tiptoe to look through the leaves, he stopped and stared, Rurur was lower so he could not look. "What?" He said, pulling Olaf.
A yowl was heard. Rurur opened the bush branches looking through it. Olaf hissed: "Shhh… Great Beast…"
It was then that both saw, as Olaf said, a huge quadruped beast that looked similar to the rhino we know, except that it was twice as large. The big beast was there, at some distance, grazing peacefully on the lawn. The dwarfs advanced slowly through the bush foliage, reaching the other side, there they stood quiet, looking at the animal from behind a small mound.
“Look how big it is, think about how much meat it has." Rurur said.
"Don’t be stupid, we can’t kill it, its skin is too tough."
Rurur got quiet for a moment and then whispered: "Yes... But we could get a ballista..."
Olaf motioned in disapproval. "Ye don’t even know if its flesh is eatable."
“Of course it is... It's like a boar, just bigger.”
The sun had set and the ambience was getting dark, some clouds in the sky had a pink color. And in that region the sunset was generally associated with the end of the heat and the almost immediate sensation of cold spreading around. Both dwarfs stood there looking at the beast as they heard the sound of its mouth chewing grass. Then a wind gust was felt, the leaves stirred and something passed above them like lightning, they crouched as they looked up.
"What was that?" Rurur asked.
"Shut up!" Olaf whispered.
The Great Beast lifted its head as if it had noticed something.
"It's a damn dragon..." Rurur whispered.
Olaf looked up around trying to see something but got nothing. "There are no more dragons, the last one was killed by the men, I told ye about this!... This is no dragon..."
Rurur looked down as if thinking about something. "There are not many things that fly and that can blow wind like that, and at that speed."
"Yes... There are not, and I never heard about great eagles coming that far.”
Rurur took one portion of berries from the bag and ate it, chewing as the juice leaked from the corner of his mouth to his beard.
“What have I told ye about not eating the berries?” Olaf asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It is just that suddenly I became anxious… No dragon, no eagle.”
The skies were getting dark quickly and the diffuse light blinded their eyes, then wing gusts were heard, the wind blew making the grass bend. The dwarfs looked up and saw the mass of a big belly passing above them. A big flying monster was now landing above the Great Beast, it stuck its claws in the great animal and bit its neck, dropping its weight on the defenseless prey and causing it to fall beneath its huge body. The Great Beast growled before falling, Rurur got wide eyed. "Oh! Big Flying Beast!"
"Shhh!" Olaf hissed.
Both stood there looking at the scene while the predator killed its prey.
"Look at all the blood..." Rurur whispered.
"Ye shut your mouth up before it notices us! Where did this creature come from?" Olaf asked as he crouched a little more.
