This font delieates common Rhûnic language.
This font delineates the dwarven Khuzdul language.
With tears in his eyes, Rómestámo said goodbye to his old friend. When he turned, he saw that Khamûl and Elduin were already quite a ways ahead. He picked up his pace to a jog for five or six strides before he was caught up right behind them. The two dwarves were another several strides in front of them, but wanted to remain back as they were leading the way.
Without turning around to face the three came a "My name's Gidum!" and following that was a "My name's Lidum!" which they finished together with "At your service!" Only by the length of his beard nearly scraping the floor could they tell which one was Gidum, making the other Lidum, whose voice was much more high and shrill compared to the other. They continued walking as they said this, and simply led the way.
The three wanted to introduce themselves, but it seemed unfit to introduce yourself to someone who can't see you. They abstained for the moment, only responding with several kind variations of 'Hello, master dwarves.' The walk was silent for a bit of time, but spectacular all the same. Not speaking with the dwarves offered them the opportunity to look out amongst the tall towers in this kingdom.
Balomdon was truly beautiful. The light pouring in through the unseen skylight illuminated each tower in a cool glow that comforted the warm yellow light coming from many of the windows. The pathways connecting many of the buildings at many different levels were frightening to behold, as random bands of, or lonely, dwarves meandered across them at dizzying heights. They walked carelessly unafraid of the heights, a humorous thought for underground folk.
The wandering dwarves all must've had some task or job to do, and the three pondered the unknown lives of each of these people they saw. They were so unconnected, but fate has brought them all to the same point at the same time, and it was an amazing thought. Some noticed them all walking together, and stopped to gaze at the big people. Random mutterings would come through speculating their business here, but the party was unable to notice them with their astonishment of the city.
When the morning started to fade away, the dwarves made their way into what looked like the last large building of the city. The cave continued on, but it seemed unfinished. If the dwarves were still mining it, they were not doing so now. It looked like they could make much more room if they needed to. Instead, they went inside as the dwarves did.
They had entered what appeared to be an inn of sorts. Several tables lay around with a crude-looking bar at the back of the room. Some dwarves were lingering about, sitting on their stools and eating whatever it was they were eating out of their metal bowls. The attention was all turned to the big folk, and quiet fell as they observed. Maybe a dozen pairs of eyes fell on the tall people, and the only movement they could see after this was the dwarf behind the bar scrubbing a mug clean. Everyone else was as still as the stone around them.
"Take a seat, lads," said Lidum, and he shuffled away into a back room somewhere. Gidum found an empty bench for the group to sit at, so the three cautiously made their way over, trying to pretend they didn't look as out of place as they actually did. They sat here a moment with Gidum in silence, before Lidum returned with some bowls of his own.
He sat down three in front of the man, elf, and wizard, and raised a finger at them all urging them to wait one moment. After just that, he came back with another two bowls for himself and Gidum and dropped a handful of spoons on the table, taking a seat next to the other dwarf. "We are gonna be on the road for quite a bit of time, so eat up," he said, before drowning his spoon and engulfing his lips around it.
"How long will it take us to make our way south?" asked Elduin, carefully grabbing the spoon and attempting to seem somewhat neater and more mannerly than those around him.
"No questions yet," said Gidum. "We never got your names or your business here. We only got orders, but we wanna know what we're supposed to be doing with yas."
Rómestámo took this, as he was now the only one who hadn't yet grabbed a spoon to start eating. "I am Rómestámo. You can think of me as a man, but not am I. I be a wizard, one of the wise, one of the magical." The dwarves smirked at this, not seeming to believe those words, and some soup came dribbling out the sides of their mouths.
"This is Elduin," he said, gesturing to him and ignoring the scene. "He is clearly of elf-kind, but he is very strong and very intelligent. His son was among the remainders to stay in Balomdon." He put a hand in front of Khamûl, saying "Khamûl here is a man. Very powerful and solid of will."
"We thank you for your service, master dwarves, and offer you the same," Khamûl said after finishing his mouthful. They waved at him just to offer a pleasantry. Their mouths were now going to be constantly full until the opposite was true of their bowls.
With a lack of responses, the istar took to his spoon and slowly ate the soup he was offered. It was not appetizing at all, but he could feel the dwarves were right in that they'd need some energy for the trek. They were at the end of the city, and who knew the next time they'd be able to feed themselves.
When all was done, the five sat here quietly before the questioning continued. "So why are yas heading to the houses of Ironfists and Stiffbeards, eh?" asked Gidum.
"Is that their names?" asked Rómestámo in reply.
The two looked confused. "You're going to see them but don't even know their names?" said Lidum
"I guess not," said Elduin. "We weren't told them."
"Are you brothers?" Khamûl blurted out thoughtlessly. Rather, it was the only thought he had at the moment, trying to figure this out.
"Aye, twins," said Lidum, "But this one's always saying 'no, sir, he's too ugly to be my blood.'"
"Y'are!" Gidum said in what seemed to be brotherly love. "You're painful-looking, at best! Need to wash out me eyes if I sees ya for too long!"
The three laughed. The question did not seem timely or even necessarily important when it was asked, but this brief interaction gave them a good insight to the dwarves themselves. It immediately increased the sense of friendship and camaraderie here.
"The Orocarni's southern clans will be important to the mission we are set to accomplish," said Rómestámo. "It is urgent, and we thank you kindly for leading the way."
"We were just ordered to," said Lidum plainly, and a moment of silence fell.
Breaking the quiet was Elduin, asking, "How long is the trip back south?"
"It takes two weeks to get there," said Gidum. "We are gonna be taking a rail straight away, then we will have some walkin' to do after that."
"What do you mean 'rail?'" asked Khamûl.
Again the twins looked confused. "You ain't got a rail system?" Gidum said finally.
"Ain't even got a clue what a 'rail system' is, to be honest with ya," Khamûl said, taking up a bit of their speech patterns, just for fun maybe.
"Instead of walking all the way down there, which would take ages, we have made something faster than feet and maybe even faster than horses and ponies," Lidum began, intriguing the three. "We have a sort of cart that sits on metal tracks. Give it a little push, and it follows the rail until it reaches the end and can't go no further. We ride it down all this ways and it saves loads of time."
"It does this by itself?" asked Elduin.
"Aye," said Gidum. "It's a bit like falling in a whole buncha different directions, if you catch my meaning."
"How long have you had this rail system in its place?" asked Rómestámo.
"Couple hundred years, give or take," answered Lidum. "The real growth of each clan started roughly five hundred years ago. When that happened, we were practically forced to create a trade route between us all. A great highway tunnel was the main road, but soon someone invented the rail system to cut the time from nearly fifty days of walkin' down to fourteen."
Gidum chimed in quickly, saying, "But that rail ain't used so much anymore and the highway tunnel lesser still. We don't frequent the other houses all that often."
"If it takes fifty days by foot," Khamûl started, "how far apart are the houses?"
"The Ironfists are somewhere between three hundred fifty and four hundred miles from the house of Blacklock," said Gidum.
The party sat here a minute, trying to comprehend that distance covered in only two weeks' time. Khamûl's old message system allowed for that kind of distance to be covered in just a day, but that was a horse's full sprint for the entire day in open land. To cover that kind of distance through a carved out mountain range seemed impressive if it could be done in only two weeks without horses.
Finally, Elduin had a question, on top of the many that had already been asked. "So when are we leaving and taking this rail?"
"Within the hour," said Lidum. "It's about two miles to the rail from here, outside Balomdon. Once we're done here we can head off."
The three all looked at one another. They'd eaten as much of this food as they could stomach, so they relented to agreeing to being finished with their food. The twins swiftly took their bowls and gobbled down the leftovers, repulsing the three. Soon they finished, and took the bowls back to somewhere hidden where Lidum had gotten them from.
When they returned, Gidum said, "Alright, lads, off we go! Follow us!" And so they did. They left the tavern and began walking further away from Balomdon into the darker, unfinished chasm of the mountain.
The spectacle was quite different from seeing the city underground. The jagged rock and unpolished stone made the journey seem much more unsafe, though it was entirely so. The floor was the only thing shaven down to a smooth surface, and the walls began growing closer. It soon became a narrow pathway wide enough for only one, twisting and turning around sharp corners.
The only light they had here was that of torches on the walls, as the place became too small for a skylight, and too deep for the ones in the city to have an effect on illumination here. The path was so curvy that torches lined every turn, and the sheer number of them made the place actually quite bright, despite not being able to directly see more than two at any given time.
Soon they came out into another great chasm, but this one empty. The wall on their right had given way and they were now wandering along the side of this open space. Sunlight did pour in here, as two open holes in the mountain let light in from each side. It was only a few hundred meters across, this open space, and quickly were they back to traversing a narrow pathway again lit by torches only and meandering through the mountain.
Along the way, the party could not help but wonder about the dwarves. If they had been here for at least five hundred years, they wanted to know about it. "Do you have a history of your people, master dwarves?" asked Rómestámo curiously.
"We have a history about our fathers and this mountain range if you'd like to hear it," said Gidum. "I ain't much one for singing but I give it my best, y'know?"
"Please," said Elduin, "and we can give you ours in return." The dwarves stopped to turn and look at the three. They seemed to appreciate the trade, and soon Gidum began their tale.
The world was young, the mountains true
The dwarven race was new and few
Mahal had made them here
They were not supposed to be,
Soon they begged for his mercy
Then they were struck with fear
Instead, then, they were offered life
Mahal and Eru; no more strife
They were put to sleep
Seven fathers of dwarven clans
They'd make their kingdoms with their hands
When woken from the deep
Hedic, Penâk, Lodûl, Urren
The fathers of the Red Mountains
Soon built their halls of stone
Mining down for gem and coal
To give Orocarni its soul
And to be left alone
"'Mahal' is Khuzdul for 'maker,' correct?" said Rómestámo.
"Aye," said Lidum, allowing his brother to remain quiet now for a bit. "Mahal is our maker. He first forged the seven dwarf kings who we call 'the fathers.' From each of them is bred each of the seven clans. We know the names only of the four that remained in the Orocarni mountains. Three traveled west, and are unknown to us."
Rómestámo's brain started kicking into high gear. If Mahal was their maker, that would be the same person as Aulë, the Vala, who Curumo and Sauron himself are a part of. He kept this silent to himself, but you can imagine the connections he was beginning to make, and preparing for some arguments to be made when they reached the other houses.
"What do you mean by 'they were not supposed to be?'" asked Elduin.
"Mahal did not have the power to create life when he created the dwarves," answered Lidum. "Eru forbade this, and Mahal prepared to destroy the fathers. Soon, Mahal noticed that the fathers were scared, and that only meant that Eru had given them free will and adopted them as his children. He stayed his hand, and put the dwarves to sleep under the mountains rather than smite his creations, to awake when Eru thought right. The fathers retold this tale to their children, and their children's children, and so on until it found its way into song and poetry, lasting for all these many years."
"A hopeful tale," said Elduin. "We might all be saved in the same way as your fathers, one day."
The dwarves returned a look of appreciation for these words. "And what about your history?" asked Gidum. "You said you have a similar tale for us?"
"We do," answered Elduin, and he prepared the song of old.
Upon the shores of Helcar old
Iluvatar his children cold
Enel woke and found them there
Many elves in many pair
Atop a horse as white as snow
A great rider had asked to show
A land so magical and pure
Many elves had felt its lure
Three had went and three came back
Some left, some stayed, these elves of black
He left us with a guardian
We would not depart for Aman
O Helcar then began to flood
He'd leave us soon, though with his blood
Abandoned here we bravely wait
For guidance from a thing that's great
Melihéra, your blood of white
Bring to us glory and light
Return your kin to us tonight
Cuiviénen, be made right
"After many thousands of years of abandonment, the two old wizards, one you see before you, came to our rescue and saved our peoples. We have since added more stanzas to our song that go thusly:"
The istari have found their way
The kin of Araw stayed that day
Glory and light have seen us here
Cuiviénen, soul now clear
Our peace is made with men of Rhûn
We're happy now to see the moon
O Tilion, your friends in blue
The Lāhorin could start anew
"I'm sorry, who is this guardian and who is Tilion?" asked Lidum honestly.
"One and the same, my friends," said Rómestámo. "He stayed to protect them, but soon left, and protects the moon to this day as it voyages across the sky. But the white rider in the song is none other than our maker, as Tilion is one of our brethren. As such, we took up his old role of protector to help the elves thrive again."
"A kind gesture," said Lidum. "Uniting the peoples to prosper."
"We needed their help as we need yours," said Rómestámo. "And we are prepared to make similar arrangements to recruit the dwarves to our urgent cause."
"We don't need any protecting," said Gidum, respectfully. "The mountain can offer us that."
"Quite right," said the wizard, "but I guess I didn't mean it so literally. Just that we'd offer to make a deal in return for your aid."
The quiet moment that fell after this was cut short by Lidum. "Oh, I can see the rail from here! Hurry along, off we go!" And there he began to jog on over to the cart that was still a bit hidden in the dark. Elduin could see it first with his elven-eyes, but it wasn't until the other two were much closer that they could see it.
As they drew nearer, they could see, faintly lit by some torches, the large cart and another dwarf sitting asleep on a chair next to it. Besides all that was a large vertical wheel with a grip sticking out the side. It was to move something, but they did not know yet.
The cart had four large metal wheels that stayed balanced on the two parallel rails that quickly dropped and fell out of view into the darkness below. It was just barely big enough for all five of them, as it was originally designed for six dwarves, not two and three large men.
"Wake up, ya silly bloke!" said Gidum, kicking the dwarf at his feet and shocking him into consciousness.
The dwarf sat here a moment to regain his perception, before muttering "Oh no, do yous need two carts? I'm gonna hang one of yas if you're going alone in your own cart!"
"We can fit," said Lidum. "Besides, if we took two you'd still be cranking them all the way back up here at the same time. What's the difference?"
"They're bloody heavy when there's two of them. Can't crank it fast at all. It's a right workout is what the difference is." This grumpy dwarf obviously didn't like his job. Maybe it was the distance from a cozy inn with food and drink, maybe it was having to crank that wheel just to bring the carts back up. The three couldn't decide which was more of an attribute to this, but it was likely both. "Hop in then, all-a yas!"
They all jumped into the cart, squished together in discomfort. Metal was finding its way jammed into several wrong places, as their gear and armor dug into their bodies. All they had from here was the ability to hang onto the sides and hope they didn't fall out. The dwarves were short and stocky enough to be fitting a bit more comfortably, but the men were too tall for the cart, and legroom was missing.
"Off ya goes!" said the grumpy dwarf, and he gave the cart a slow shove once they were all in as best as they could get. The cart had some inertia and was difficult to get moving at first, but soon the track dipped downward, and gravity was now on their side. They started to speed downward at a rate faster than they had initially imagined.
The rail was not well luminated, and it led to some problems. Not knowing which way the cart was going to turn meant that they were thrown around unexpectedly at all points. The speed with which they had was also frightening, as this type of speed could only be matched by a racing stallion. The wind whipping their hair often stung their eyes and threatened to take much of their belongings.
After several minutes, the cart found a constant speed, and slowly came to a stop. It took a moment for the three big people to get out of the cart, as they had been holding on for their lives, and needed a moment to process and recover. The two dwarves on the other hand were hooting and hollering, begging to go one more time in childish enthusiasm.
Once they were out, the two dwarves managed to get the cart from these rails onto another set of tracks. This one went back up in a straight line, and the difference here was that it had what looked like a loop of chain going around between the two sets of rail. Once it was on, they pushed it along a bit, and a hook under the cart had clicked itself onto the chain.
When it did, Lidum used his fingers to whistle as loudly as he could back up this second passage. He could see all the way up the tunnel, though it was dark, and soon saw a distant yellow light at the top. The grumpy dwarf had started waving his hand with the torch in it, indicating that he'd be cranking the cart back up. In a moment, the chain started scratching as it was pulled taut, and slowly the cart started to move its way back upwards.
"Why couldn't we take that track down to the bottom?" said Khamûl, rubbing his neck as it had now grown sore. "It would've been much smoother."
"How'd you get it to slow down?" said Gidum, sarcastically. "By the time you'd reach the bottom you'd be flung right out of the mountain at that speed. That way actually keeps ya alive at the end."
The group wondered how many rails there were like this. It only lasted a couple of minutes, but they couldn't be far at all, which Elduin pondered aloud. "How far did that take us?"
"Only three miles," said Lidum, "but there's another rail that lasts for sixty. Don't worry though, it's much nicer. That bit takes three hours."
"Sixty miles in three hours?" asked Khamûl, impressed. "How'd you accomplish that?"
"It's a straight bit of rail that is only slightly downhill," replied Lidum. "It keeps a steady pace with friction and all. No big turns or accelerations of any kind for the whole ride."
"And when do we come upon that?" asked Rómestámo.
"It's about forty miles from Balomdon," said Gidum. "Most of that is walking along the highway, though. Only one more cart there that goes for another three miles. There's some resting spots we keep along the way."
Having caught their breath and mentally preparing for the next cart, they set off on their way. It took a couple of small dark tunnels once more, but they were soon approaching the fabled highway between the northern and southern clans. Twisting through more dark corridors lit by torches resting on the rocky walls beside them, within two miles they were again practically once out in the open.
The ceiling of the cave was now resting nearly two hundred feet above their heads, and the highway had become just about as wide as the Anthaméuse, if not wider. A whole army of dwarves could easily stand side by side as they made their journey along the great road. Skylights were allowing the sun to flood the highway in the immediate vicinity, but they could see it tapering off along the highway, which was given a proper name next.
"Welcome to the Highway of Fôkhid," said Lidum and Gidum in synchronicity. They gave the group a couple moments of appreciation. Not only was this a massive underground tunnel that must've taken an entire age, but it was also made to be visually pleasing.
The sides of the highway had huge spacings, volleying back and forth between rough, exposed, natural stone and wonderfully carved smooth walls. The carved sections were all identical, displaying the same massive depiction of a dwarf with a pickaxe and a shield. On either side of his thighs were torches to help light the path, but it did not much good here where the sun was shining brightly. Below the carvings etched into the stone was something in the dwarven runes that the three could not read, but assumed its meaning.
"Does the writing beneath identify this dwarf, so lucky to be remembered so well?" asked the wizard, knowledgeable of Khuzdul but not the script.
"It reads 'Fôkhid II Blacklock: Peacemaker and Highway Builder,'" said Lidum. "He was the head of the meeting that decided to make this highway in an attempt to bring the far clans together. It worked only slightly, because the road is still tremendously long. Its use has waned considerably since the days of its mining."
As they continued walking along the Highway of Fôkhid, they imagined the number of dwarves it must have taken to accomplish this task. Hundreds of them dedicating years, potentially their entire lives, to simply carving away this awesome tunnel, only to have to return all the way back to their respective city for the night. What an outlandish feat it was to observe this.
Because the highway was perfectly flat and straight, the speed with which they could travel was only determined by the speed with which they could travel themselves. Dwarves had much shorter strides than the taller folk, so it felt like going a bit slower. The rail helped them to cover three miles in only a couple of minutes, but by the time they hopped off and got to the highway it was already afternoon. They went another six miles before they came upon the first disruption of the wall's pattern after the sun had finally set, and the scattered skylights grew dim.
Again chipped right out of the wall itself was what looked like a building with many rooms. It was as tall as the highway itself, but did not protrude out into it at all. It was a completely negative filling, straight into the mountain. It very closely resembled the inn that they had stopped at that morning, and that was what it proved to be whence they walked inside.
The ground floor was very similar to the tavern, with a selection of tables and stools and bar in the back. Only one person was here, a dwarf sitting by himself with a mug of ale and enjoying the peace and quiet. No one was here save for himself, and was startled when he noticed he had visitors.
"Oi, it's the twins!" he said pleasantly. "Good to see yas! Are you making the trip all the way?"
"All the way," said Gidum. "We need some rooms and food if you got any left."
"We always get so much food on delivery days, but I'm usually the one who eats it all. Luckily, the only visitors I tend to get are the delivery folk and yous. They came last week, so there's still plenty."
"You stay here alone, master?" asked Elduin.
"Yessir," he said, "but that I no longer am. So why don't yas take a seat and I'll right fix ya something to eat." He got up from his chair and made his way out of sight behind one of the doors. The group of five made their way over to the table nearest the door, just in case he came out with all the food at once, so he wouldn't have to go far. This exactly is what happened, as he stumbled through after about twenty minutes with five steaming plates of food.
This was good tidings, as the soup from the morning was not enough for them, though they could make it through the day just fine. This food was cooked warm and hearty. Red meat and baked potatoes with gravy. While excited to see it, the three all wondered where they got this kind of food from. It plagued them for a moment, before they fell victim to the taste of the food, and ignored all other thoughts.
"So who are yas anyway?" said the innkeeper. "We don't get travelers that often. These two," he said gesturing to the brothers, "Are the only ones nowadays who make the journey, and they only do it to send quarterly updates south. What do you be needing down there?"
"We have an urgent mission, master," answered Rómestámo. "It involves all four of the houses in these mountains, and we must make it there as soon as we can."
"Sounds like an important business," said the dwarf. "I won't push no further. If you was gonna give me details, I'd have gotten them." He stood up at this, and meandered over to the bar. He started pouring mugs of ale for the five and, much easier than five plates, brought them all over to the table for the travelers.
"You stay here and relax," he continued to say. "I'm gonna get some rooms set up for you. I'll wake yas at the break of dawn, if that pleases you, so you can be on your way."
"Thank you kindly," said Khamûl.
The dwarf went up some stairs on the left side of the building and would not return for about a half hour. When he returned, he said, "Yous can leave the dishes, just follow me and I'll take care of them later." So the five all followed upstairs and there were rooms set up for each of them. He had so much empty space that he could offer everyone their own floor for extreme privacy should they need it. They didn't, but it was nice to be able to have some alone time later that night.
"On every floor," he said at the first stop, "Is some paper with a quill and ink. This here system," he said, opening a little cabinet in the wall, "goes all the way down to the bar where I'll be for the night. Pull on this chain, and the floor of it will drop all the way down to the bar and I can bring you whatever you need. Saves you a trip, and could be faster the higher up you are. Just remember what floor you're on and write it down, because how would I know otherwise?"
It was just a cabinet from the outside, but the floor of the cabinet was connected to a rope and pulley system. The chain outside the door moved it up and down, and was a neat little system. "Do all the buildings under the mountains have mechanisms like this?" asked Khamûl. "We stayed in a place in Balomdon that did not have such a system."
"Most do," said the dwarf, "but this idea weren't come up with right away. It's commonplace now, but wasn't always. Just means you stayed in an older place." He paused for a moment to see if there were any more questions. There weren't so he continued. "This floor and the four above this are open to whoever wants what. Don't hesitate if ya need me."
"What is your name, master dwarf?" asked the wizard. "I'd like to thank you directly for the hospitality."
"My name is Brór, sir."
"Thank you, Master Brór. You have been most accommodating and gracious. May Mahal look fondly upon you."
He looked on in surprise, as did the twins who had not yet heard the istar's use of Khuzdul, though he mentioned Mahal earlier in the day. They figured it was common enough to know, but not that he could actually speak the language clearly. Once he regained his thoughts, he returned the sentiment. "May your travels be safe, guided by Mahal, and your mission successful." They all bowed to one another in respect, and retired for the night.
The next morning started with Brór sticking his own head into the cabinet-message system and yelling at everyone to wake up. It surprisingly worked rather well, even though some of the cabinets had remained shut for the entirety of the night.
All five had found their way downstairs within the next fifteen minutes or so, and they were treated to another meal from Brór. Having filled up on more meat and potatoes, and some morning ale to start the day off on a positive note, they left the tavern and continued along the highway.
As previously mentioned, dwarves have a smaller stride than the taller people. This meant that even at their top walking speed, they'd only cover about ten miles a day. Luckily, their intermittent taverns were perfectly spaced out, all maintained by hosts similar to Brór and serviced by a food delivery system. The second day was all walking for ten miles until they rested for the next night.
The third day featured the second rail, taking them another three miles in a similar amount of time to the first track. It was fast and breakneck with twists and turns. It did not last too long though, and they were all quickly off and back on another stretch of the highway. They could have stayed on it, but all these short rail lines did basically was skip the thousands of stairs they had built downwards deeper into the mountain.
The next day they traveled another four miles before stumbling upon the bit of rail that was said to be sixty miles in length. When they got on and departed in this cart, the ride was much easier. As mentioned, it went steadily downhill at a consistent pace, perfectly angled down only slightly, so that friction and gravity were in perfect equilibrium as to cause no accelerations.
"How does the rest of our journey look from here, masters?" asked Elduin to the twins.
"Once we get off this rail," replied Gidum, "we will have three days of foot travel. On the fourth day is another short rail that takes us for about seven miles, and then it's another two day's travel before we reach the longest rail. It's similar to this, but thrice its length."
"A rail that goes on like this for nearly two hundred miles?" asked the elf in disbelief.
"It's one of our greatest achievements of construction," said Lidum. "The dwarves take great pride in it. It takes all day, though, to go that far. Its speed is similar to this one, so it takes almost ten hours."
Khamûl was surprised by this length of time. "We've been on the road each day for roughly eight. Is there a stopping point before and after the rail ride?"
"Oh yea," said Lidum, casually. "It was meant to be the entire day's travel. But it works because we can sit there all day. We could almost sleep the entire time if we's wanted to."
"After that is another two days walking," continued Gidum, "with that second day ending in a ten mile rail. The day after that should be the last, and we could immediately rest in Idgrec, the city of Ironfists, after that day's trek."
Rómestámo had started doing the math in his head. It really was a planned two week trip. He counted, by the dwarves' estimates, exactly fourteen days, and made himself a mental note to test just how accurately they knew this road. According to Brór, they were the only ones nowadays to make the trip, and did so every third month. Their knowledge would be put to the test, unbeknownst to them.
To his surprise and elation, he discovered their estimate to be pinpoint accurate. Their trip was a fairly easy and relaxing two weeks to the day since departing from Balomdon. The rest of the journey is not recounted here, as their journey consisted of more of the same every day they walked. Repetitions made it quite boring, and the day-long rail was even more so.
At the end of their fourteenth day of travel, they found themselves back meandering through smaller and narrower tunnels, walking through torchlight until they came out the other side to another great city. This day was just about to end, and the five were too tired to take in its grandeur, which they could truly appreciate when they awoke the next day.
The innkeeper in Idgrec woke the three men, telling them of the twins' need to see them and the innkeeper quickly and privately. They began to get themselves ready and stayed up in their rooms. They were in the city now, and could not stay too long on the ground floor for fear of being noticed by the civilians.
When the twins entered the room containing the three and the innkeeper, Gidum started talking. "We are leaving soon to reach Sárnotir, the city of the Stiffbeards. It is another two days to get there, and another two back. It's a similar distance between Balomdon and Strôlgras. In four days, five if we must stay another day to convince the king there, we will return and you can have your private meeting with the kings of the south."
Lidum spoke up after this, mentioning the innkeeper. "Tubor, your discretion is appreciated, but we'll need you to send word for King Thraghol. Inform him of the party's arrival and their need to speak with the two kings."
"What are they gonna do in the meantime?" asked Tubor.
"They need to stay here, out of sight of the common folk," said Gidum. "See to them, and make sure that the king knows they are here."
Tubor nodded, and soon the twins were off once more. When they were gone, Tubor asked the three, "So what is this you're doing? Why do you so hastily need to speak with the kings of the south?"
"Our mission is urgent, and relies heavily on the dwarves' involvement to our cause," said Rómestámo.
"We are attempting to unite the lands of men and elves with the dwarves to fight an ever growing power," said Khamûl.
They were being vague, and Tubor was trying to decipher. He could not, so he just shrugged his shoulders, knowing they would not tell him anything further. "If you need anything, let me know," and he pointed at the cabinet in the corner of the room.
Upstairs they stayed for a bit of time, alone and even more bored than before. The food and comfort was good, but it was all beginning to feel like more time was being wasted. They sat doing nothing, while the dwarves were off retrieving the king of the Stiffbeards.
All they could do from here was look out upon the city that they were now in. This structure was near the outskirts, like the first tavern they had entered in Balomdon, but they were again staying at the top of the building. They would not be noticed as outsiders from this high up, even if they were standing right in front of the windows in plain view of the dwarves down below.
This city was definitely bigger, just as Iddûn had said. He could not see it all, but the empty chasm that this place was filling was another order of magnitude larger than Balomdon. It was several times deeper and far wider. The place was like a maze of catwalks connecting all the structures, with many more of them all within view. Each building was aglow with the blue and yellow light of the sun coming through its open pathway and the fires within each of the rooms. The place was magnificent to behold, even compared to Balomdon, which was itself a notable feat.
On the third day after the twins had departed, Tubor came back upstairs looking a bit more shaky than he had the day they'd met. He was being helpful and friendly the entirety of their stay, but something was wrong when he came into the room. He seemed meek and scared.
"What is it, my friend?" asked Elduin.
Tubor took a moment to look at each of the three before speaking, quiet. "The King of the Ironfists, Thraghol I, has been informed of your presence, and followed me back here to meet yas as soon as possible."
"Is he downstairs?" asked the wizard.
"He is, masters, but he will be coming up shortly. I told him 'let me make sure they's awake before you go up, your highness.' And he gave me permission, but when I go back down he's gonna come up here."
"Thank you for the warning, Tubor," said Khamûl. "You seem scared, but I assure you we are not. I do not fear for our lives this day."
Tubor stood there, still looking shaky. "Should I fetch him then, masters?"
"Please," said Rómestámo. Tubor shuffled off down the stairs and within several minutes, another large dwarf had entered the room.
He was not large in height, but weight. He was the most rotund dwarf they'd laid eyes on yet, and it was soon noticed to be a misdirect from his demeanor. He came into the room with what seemed like a snarl, eyebrows pointed at a steep angle towards his nose and a deep frown. It seemed like his size was meant to distract them from the look he was giving, pulling focus from his face.
His great black leather outfit went along with his jet-black hair. He wore metal shoulder guards, gauntlets, and shin protectors to match the silver crown that lay upon his head. It was adorned with gold and gemstones, many of them. He wielded a double sided ax that rested in its scabbard on his back, along with a short sword on his side, akin to a big knife to the tall men. He entered the room like a king should, knowing that he truly owns the whole place.
"I don't know what you may have been told," he said, with a deep and booming voice, "but I have never, and refuse to hereafter, welcome any outsiders into our city."