Just as Kragar, the big, strong soldier, was about to touch the old dwarf with the sack of grain in his hand, a voice cut through the open air, louder than the growls of the Shaccares, the restless murmur of the crowd of dwarves and than the icy wind that cut across the roofs of the village houses.
"Nonsense, Valthorn!" The elderly dwarf Talfor, with a long gray beard, emerged from the crowd, his imposing blacksmith's bearing denoting his authority in the village. "Don't stain your hands with the blood of an old dwarf. We all have enough problems, we don't need any more disagreements."
Valthorn, momentarily taken aback by Talfor's boldness, turned his piercing gaze on him. He glared angrily at the dwarf miner. "Talfor, you dare defy my orders? This insolent dwarf deserves exemplary punishment!"
Talfor, without flinching, made his way through the crowd of dwarves and stood between the old dwarf and Kragar, then faced Valthorn with tired but determined eyes. "I am Talfor, the Elder of this village. I will not allow you to spill the blood of those I have watched be born, grow into respectable blacksmith dwarves. I believe there are other ways to resolve our differences, dark elf."
Valthorn gritted his teeth, his expression becoming darker. "You're playing with fire, Talfor." The dark elf turned to Kragar, ordering him to back off. "He won't be punished today, but if he refuses to fulfill his obligations, someone will have to pay their share. So who will it be?" He held up one hand, looking towards the other dwarves.
Talfor stared into Valthorn's eyes, his blue eyes penetrating the darkness of the dark elf's eyes. With a stern expression, he replied: "Very well, Valthorn. An additional sack of iron will be provided on my part. We believe in peace, even in dark times like these."
Valthorn gave him a suspicious look, but in the end accepted the proposal. "That's right, Talfor. You're lucky that you're more useful with your hands than without them. I hope your village learns to respect the rules next time. We won't tolerate insubordination."
Talfor agreed with a nod, and Valthorn's servants began to collect the sacks of grain, barrels of ale and other tributes while the dwarves watched helplessly.
Part of the crowd slowly dispersed after handing over their portions, and the tension in the air began to ease as the most stressful part had passed, but the looks of distrust remained.
Valthorn, after ensuring that the tributes were collected, approached Talfor with a cynical smile. "Old man, I need a place for me and my subordinates to spend the night. Also, find a suitable place for the Shaccares to rest. I want food, drink and a warm place for everyone."
Talfor, knowing he didn't have much choice, didn't even sigh. He had expected something like this, considering that they had arrived earlier in the evening. "There's a modest tavern on the edge of the village. It should be more than enough to house you. As for the Shaccares, I believe the old stables can house them, although we don't have much comfort to offer, thanks to recent times."
Half of what Talfor said didn't matter to Valthorn. "So be it... Make sure everything is in order. I won't tolerate negligence." He threw the chain of his Shaccar at the dwarf's feet and turned away.
As Talfor headed off to tell the other dwarves to organize the accommodation for the invaders, Jayaa, who observed the whole scene through Alina's magic that allowed her to create a magical eye and a kind of "transmission", said: "We can't just accept this! They're exploiting us, humiliating us, and we're just standing by?
Xisrith put a comforting hand on Jayaa's shoulder. "We need to choose our battles wisely, Jayaa. We were lucky that they showed up just a few hours after we arrived."
Kaizen, looking at the scene with a thoughtful expression, added: "I agree with Alina. Patience is a powerful weapon. Let's wait for the right moment to act. They're still on their guard."
At the same time, Talfor led Valthorn and his subordinates to the tavern. The place was modest, with a simple but warm hall. The aroma of freshly prepared food hung in the air as several dwarves worked vigorously in the kitchen. The owner, a middle-aged, red-bearded dwarf, glanced nervously at the newcomers, wiping the drops of sweat from his complexion with a small dirty cloth.
"I hope the modest accommodations are to your liking," said Talfor, trying to maintain his formality. "The rooms at the back are clean, and the food is simple but nutritious."
Valthorn looked around with disdain. "Enough for one night, I suppose. This place needs improvement, though. You don't want to put us in a bad mood."
The innkeeper swallowed, nervous about the possibility of reprisals. Talfor, trying hard to remain calm, replied: "We'll do our best to improve, Valthorn. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and deal with the Shaccares in the stables."
Valthorn nodded in agreement, and Talfor left the inn, leaving the dark elf and his subordinates to rest. frёeωebɳovel.com
Alina, Jayaa, Kaizen and the others moved closer to the village, close enough that they no longer needed magic to see the dark elves' movements.
"We need a plan," Andrew said quietly. "They're well equipped and should be well trained."
Alina agreed. "That dwarf has managed to avoid a confrontation for now, and he seems to be the only one of his race that the dark elves can stand."
Jayaa looked at the dwarves who were still working hard to load their tool bags onto the wagons parked in the center of the village. "We have to act intelligently. If we rebel without a plan, we'll only cause more suffering. And if these poor guys get caught in the crossfire, I can't imagine how much blood there will be on our hands."
"But there won't be any crossfire if we work together. I have a plan, but we won't be able to fight together, at least not at first."
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