As he’d so boldly proclaimed a day earlier, Rigurd had everything I needed that afternoon. He had even chosen the team members for my expedition into the Dwarven Kingdom already.
By the way, did Rigur really have to be our expedition leader, too? I was a little concerned about that, but he seemed to be all for it.
Well, his father did recover his youthful looks and the enthusiasm to go with it. Maybe I was worrying too much.
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Once I picked up my luggage, Ranga eagerly allowed me onto his back. I boinged myself up and nestled into his fur. There was a lot more fuzz than I’d thought, and it sure did wonders for comfort.
I braced my body with Sticky Thread to keep from falling. Not having any arms or legs was a real pain at times like these, but at least I had the skills to do something about it. Gotta use the tools you have on hand.
I had actually been practicing a bit with my silk during the off-hours. What red-blooded hero hasn’t wanted to slap his enemies down with a lightning-quick whip strike? I didn’t know if I could yet, exactly, but I had time. Practice makes perfect.
My luggage primarily consisted of money and food, three days’ worth. If we took longer than that, we’d have to forage a bit. We could’ve brought along some hardier rations that’d keep over longer periods of time, but I wanted to travel light, if I could.
Not that I couldn’t just swallow whatever up and bring it along…but I didn’t want to get soft. I didn’t need food anyway.
On the monetary side, we had seven silver pieces and twenty-four bronze pieces. Even I could tell that wasn’t much. My expectations weren’t high, though, so that was fine. We’d just figure out what to do once we showed up.
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For a goblin on foot, it would apparently take around two months to walk to the Dwarven Kingdom. We would be largely following the Great Ameld River, which flowed through the forest, up to its source in a mountain range that held the settlement we sought.
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These were the Canaat Mountains, which neatly separated the Empire to the east and the small litter of nations here and there around the Forest of Jura. There were, by and large, three trade routes that ran between the two pockets of civilization. One put you right through the forest; another was a more treacherous route through the mountains; the third was by sea. The Jura route would normally be the shortest and safest, but for some reason, it was only rarely taken advantage of—most travelers challenged the mountains instead, what with the travel costs and potential sea-monster interference a ship route presented.
In addition to these three routes, there were a handful of other ways to reach the Dwarven Kingdom, but they all charged tolls. This was mandatory, supposedly to keep people from transporting dangerous goods along the paths. It was a decent enough option for small bands, but the larger caravans avoided them for the costs and time involved. They were safe, no doubt, and we’d have to consider one of them later, depending on how our finances held out.
We had no business with the Empire, so there was no point traveling east to leave the woods. It was straight north to the Canaats. We wouldn’t have to go up to any peaks, at least—the kingdom was situated at the base of the mountains, in the upper reaches of the Great Ameld. A beautiful hub of civilization, by the sound of it, built into a gigantic natural cavern.
That was the Dwarven Kingdom.