Wonderful 40.

Belinswae. The City Of Falnic...

"Look over there" says Dalinvardél Tanith the elven spy with a nod of his head to the right along the street "What is it?" asks Riley Hait the mercenary ranger who is with the elf from the principality of Alínlae today "Dwarves" replies the elven spy, who is speaking his native language, as the human ranger is doing too.
The ranger Hait turns and looks in the direction Dalin has indicated, and he spots a group of dwarves at the far end of the street that's along the water's edge, here in the north of the city of Falnic.
From their attire, it's obvious the dwarves are not locals, there's very few dwarves in the port city anyway, and these dwarves are definitely not from Falnic, as they're all wearing various types of armour, and each of them are carrying a multitude of weapons.
"Warriors from up north" quietly says Riley Hait in the elven language, Dalinvardél Tanith nods his head in agreement, as they've heard that there's clans of dwarves living in the hill country along the coast about a hundred and twenty miles north of the port city of Falnic.
And though officially that hill country is part of the region of Belinswae, no one has ever bothered to tell the clans who live there about that. And there's no justifier in power anywhere near where the hill dwarves live, infact the nearest one is nearly forty miles southeast of there.
On occasion the hill dwarves from the north along the coast can be seen in Falnic in matters to do with trade, and it seems like this is one such occasion. As the dwarves are leading a cart drawn by a pair of ponies, on the back of which are a few chests.
The elven spy and the human mercenary share a look, as they can pretty much guess what's in the chests the dwarven warriors have in the back of the pony drawn cart. It's either precious metals, or precious gems. Knowing dwarves and their ways, it's more than likely both.
"I doubt road bandits bothered them on their way here" dryly says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, the elf from the principality of Alínlae nods in agreement, as the group of dwarves, who number ten, are all bristling with an assortment of weapons.
"They're like miniature Dorc's" murmurs the spy Tanith "Apart from being green, and totally demented" dryly adds the mercenary ranger, who then tells the elf standing next to him "Better not let the big idiot hear you say something like that, or he'll kill you" Dalinvardél Tanith just grins in reply to that.
The dwarves who are heading this way along the waterside street, spot the two of them as they stand near a row of street stalls that lookout over the harbour on the otherside of the street. The dwarves, all ten of them, who have been quietly chatting away to one another in their native tongue, fall silent and stare at the elven spy and the human ranger as they keep heading this way. Something they haven't done to anyone else on the street, or for that matter anyone else in the city they've entered just a short time ago.
Infact they've pretty much ignored everyone on the streets here in the north of the city of Falnic. "Hmmmm they've seen something they don't particularly care for" quietly says the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, the human ranger who was brought up and trained in another of the Southlands elven principalities, Envadarlen, nods his head in agreement with Dalinvardél Tanith.
Then as the dwarves approach where the two of them are standing, Riley Hait fluently says in the dwarven language "Greetings" the mercenary ranger, well to be precise, Zubutai Timaginson, who once inhabited the body of a dwarven warrior. Infact it was the first body he inhabited after he was originally killed, then adds in the dwarven language, like any language he instantly knows when in a new body, and he retains to successive bodies "May Thaxel and Dovarn guide your journey".
The dwarves stop, some stare in disbelief, while others jaws drop open in surprise, for they've hardly ever met a human who can speak their language, especially here in Falnic. And some of the dwarven warriors are over two hundred years old, and they've been coming to the port city for quite some time, back when it was a far smaller place than it is now.
There comes a bark of an order from one of the older dwarves at the back, who tells the others to stop standing there like bunch of country yokels who have never been to a city before, and to get a move on.
As the dwarves get underway again, and move along with their cart, the older dwarf who spoke, briefly stops with another, a younger warrior, who nudges him and mutters something to him, as he nods in the direction of the mercenary ranger and the elven spy.
"Greetings to you stranger" says the older dwarf in his native language, he continues with the traditional saying that was given to him and the others "And may Thaxel and Dovarn guide you in your travels" the older dwarf never thought he would be invoking the dwarven gods to a human. But as his younger companion beside him, muttered to him that it's only fair to be polite to the human stranger, who greeted them so eloquently and perfectly in their language.
Then because he can't help it, the older dwarf says in the language of his people, in a slightly dry tone tone too "Pity about the company you're keeping" beside him his younger companion grunts in agreement as they both briefly stare at the elf next to the human, stares that are obviously not friendly.
Ah, so that's it, Riley Hait thinks to himself, who immediately identifies that the dwarven warriors don't particularly care for elven kind, the mercenary ranger "Don't worry about him, those pointy ears of his have no idea what we're talking about" the older dwarf grunts, then mutters "Good" then he asks the ranger Hait "You be stranger here in Falnic then lad?".
"Aye" replies Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who impresses the two dwarves with his correct pronunciation when it comes to their native language "The two of us are from faraway to the south of here" says the ranger Hait who doesn't mention how far away to the south they're from, then he adds "We're passing through on business".
"Aye, so are we" says the older of the two dwarves, who then adds "This city not be the best of places to visit, but alas we've got business here, so we're here then" then deciding it's time to catch up with the rest of the group he's traveled with from their homeland, the older dwarf says "Fare thee well lad" the younger dwarf beside him nods as Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman says to the two of them "And fare thee well to you".
They continue on their way, and as they catch up to the others and the pony drawn cart as the street rounds a corner and heads inland from the harbour, and goes in the direction of one of the hillside neighbourhoods in the port city. Thane the dwarven warrior says in his native language "By Dovarn's beard uncle!" he continues with "I never thought i would hear a human speak so eloquently in our mother tongue, especially in this piss poor excuse of a city".
"Aye lad" says Baédin the dwarven chieftain, then the older dwarf who spoke to the stranger, sourly grunts when his sister's son mutters "Pity the lad was hanging out with that pointy eared devil" Thane, the nephew of the clan chieftain then adds "I guess no one's perfect then".
Baédin grunts again, then the chieftain of clan Kraelin after running a hand through his silver speckled beard, says "Well you heard the lad, they be from the south somewhere, so at least that carrot muncher isn't from that shithole Maladimbáh".
The younger of the two dwarven warriors sourly smiles at the mention of the elven principality away to the east of Belinswae. Which the eastern area of the mountainous principality, before it was even a principality, was once the ancestral homeland of the dwarven clans of the Stone Hills, on the coast in the north of Belinswae.
"Still a bloody elf" mutters Thane, whose ancestors like all the ancestors of the Stone Hills clans, were driven out of their original homeland in the eastern mountains of what's now Maladimbáh, over fifteen hundred years ago during a war that lasted on and off, for nearly a hundred years.
Baédin the clan chieftain sighs as they follow the others up a hillside street, he shares his nephew's feelings, and the feelings of everyone else in the Stone Hills about the elves of Maladimbáh. But deep down he knows it's a waste of time to hold a grudge about something that happened before the time of his grandfather's, grandfather.
The chieftain of the Kraelin clan of the Stone Hills figures there's not even an elf of noble birth alive now who was in the war that drove the dwarves out of their mountain strongholds. And that most elves of the principality of Maladimbáh couldn't even care less about what happened all those years ago.
Still, the clan chieftain who is four decades over two hundred years old, doesn't exactly like elven kind, especially those from Maladimbáh.
"Ah well lad, at least we don't have to deal with any stinking elves here" says Baédin, who like his father before him, and his grandfather before that, is a hammermaster, the clan chieftain then dryly adds "Just the stinking justifiers of this arse backwards excuse for a port city".
Thane the dwarven warrior grunts, as he can't decide who is worst, elven kind, or the justifiers of Belinswae, in particular the justifiers of Falnic. He finally comes to the conclusion that elves are worse. But like his uncle said, they don't have to deal with any elves while here in Falnic on business, it's with some of the justifiers they have to deal with. And the dwarves of the Stone Hills know that the majority of the justifiers of Falnic are pretty much the worst of human kind you would expect to find anywhere.
"What was that all about?" asks Dalinvardél Tanith in the elven language as they watch the party of dwarves round a corner, and head up the street that makes it's way up towards one of the hillside neighbourhoods here in the north of the city.
"Oh just a friendly hello" is the reply of Riley Hait in the same language "Didn't exactly look friendly to me" dryly says the elven spy who clearly saw the hostile stares directed at him by the group of dwarven warriors, he is pretty sure that even their ponies gave him an unfriendly look or two when they briefly stopped.
The mercenary ranger who was raised and trained by elven warders in the principality of Envadarlen in the Southlands, shrugs his shoulders, then says to his traveling companion "I wouldn't worry about it, they just don't like elves for some reason".
Dalin rolls his eyes, then sourly says "Probably a war or something that happened way before i, or any of them were ever born". "Probably" says Riley aka Zubutai the barbarian hordesman, who continues with "When i told them that we weren't from here, and we're from faraway to the south, it seemed to placate them".
"Well that's something i guess" murmurs the elven spy from the principality of Alínlae in the Southlands, who losses sight of the dwarves heading uphill as they go behind a number of buildings, then Dalin who along with Riley, who have been trying to find out this morning, any information about the missing members of the group, quietly says to the mercenary ranger "Hopefully he's made a decision of what we're to do" the ranger Hait nods his head in agreement to that.
When they return to the White Gull inn at midday to have lunch and to find out if any of the others have found out anything about the missing trio of Mira Reinholt the mage, Dorc da Orc and lord Farque. They get the answer they've been looking for, as Helbe the elven thief informs them and the rest of the group that they're finally leaving the city of Falnic . . . . . .