As the group took their evening meal at the end of the second day, I decided to ask Gobta about the Dwarven Kingdom we were headed toward.
“Y-yes, sir! Umm, it is officially known as the Armed Nation of Dwargon! Their leader is known as the Heroic King, and—”
Something about his shouty reply indicated that my speaking to him made him terribly nervous. I was afraid he’d bite his tongue in his panic.
According to Gobta’s account, the current king was Gazel Dwargo, third in his line from the original. A great hero, one whose might and presence made the elder dwarves recall his grandfather in his younger years, but also an intelligent one who ruled his realm with a steady, even hand. A living hero, in a way.
It had been a thousand years since Guran Dwargo, the first Heroic King of the dwarves, established this kingdom. Since then, his descendants had carried on his will, preserving and developing his people’s history, culture, and technical skill.
In a nutshell, that was Dwargon. Given how long its kings apparently lived, it must have been a hell of a place. Hearing about it got me excited.
“In that case,” I asked, “how much longer will it take, Gobta?”
“If I had to guess, we should arrive by the morrow, sir! The mountains are starting to loom high!”
He was right. The peaks weren’t even visible until yesterday. We were advancing at an astounding clip.
“I’ve just thought of something, Gobta—what errand brought you there in the first place? I thought you had merchants visiting the village regularly.”
As far as I had heard from Rigurd, there were bands of kobolds who stopped by on regular occasions. Why would a goblin want to take the two-month journey over here, then?
“Y-yes, sir! The dwarves pay high prices for magical weapons and armor, you see. They paid us with tools and such, but the merchants helped me carry them back, thankfully! None of the monsters around the village could use that magical gear anyway…”
Aha. So they sold the weapons and stuff they found off passing adventurers? No wonder there was nothing decent left at the village. He must’ve carted it all to the Dwarven Kingdom because the kobolds didn’t have any way of appraising it on-site. Of course, any adventurers who’d lose to a bunch of goblins almost certainly must’ve been utter beginners, so inexperienced that they couldn’t even use a compass to keep from stumbling into monster villages. I doubted any of their gear could’ve been worth much.
“Plus,” Rigur added to Gobta’s roundabout reply, “all the goods the dwarves make—the weapons, mainly—it’s top-notch. Even the humans recognize it as the best make in the land, and they gather at the kingdom to seek out the latest works, along with the subraces and intelligent monsters. It’s been tradition for years now, and all conflict between races is prohibited there, in the name of the king.”
So we were traveling there less to sell some junk and more to buy the tools they needed. The fact that they could do so on neutral turf, without getting laughed at by the other monsters, must’ve been another attraction.
“Such an arrangement,” Rigur continued, “is made possible by the Armed Nation’s astonishing military might. As far as the kobold merchants told me, the dwarven armies have not tasted defeat in a full millennium…”
The kingdom enjoyed the defenses of a massive, powerful, magic-driven army corps and a wall of heavily armed infantry. Any would-be attackers would find themselves first blocked by the infantry, then turned into dust by a rain of offensive magic.
The equipment that backed up such an offensive juggernaut must have been very high-tech indeed, for this world. As Rigur put it, it was overwhelmingly superior to any human-made weapons or armor. I doubted anyone had the guts to mess with them at this point. It’d be the intelligent thing for a nearby nation to try to stay on their friendly side. No wonder none of their visitors were stupid enough to squabble with any other monsters within their territory.
Still, dealing with any species, regardless of what they look like? The dwarves must be pretty chill dudes. Maybe I could make a few connections myself. In fact, I’d better.
This was a realm where people intermingled freely with monsters. A land that began with the surface city and extended down, down, down. A kingdom armed to the hilt that walked the path of peace. No place in the world boasted as many weaponsmiths and merchants, and yet it sounded like the farthest point in the universe from any kind of conflict. A bit ironic, maybe.
The way the Dwarven Kingdom was starting to sound from these conversations, I couldn’t wait to arrive.
✦ ✦ ✦
Exactly three days after we began our journey, we reached the grasslands at the foot of the Canaats. The city truly was beautiful—chiseled into the vast mountain cavern, a natural fortress created by nature.
It was the Armed Nation of Dwargon in all its mighty glory.