The great stone chamber of Feo Berkana's council hall was lit brilliantly with fire-crystals embedded in the walls. The polished black marble floor reflected their glow, giving the room an ethereal, dignified sheen.
Once again, my team and Blue Rose stood at the center, all eyes turned toward the raised dais where the Dwarven Council sat in their stone-carved thrones. The Commander-in-Chief stood just to the side, dressed in his formal military attire—a crimson sash across his chest, thick beard braided with silver rings.
We'd been summoned the moment the sun touched the mountain peaks.
One of the council members rose from his seat, his voice booming through the chamber. "Adventurers. Warriors. Friends of Feo Berkana. We welcome you back and congratulate you for your extraordinary victory."
Polite applause echoed from the gathered attendants lining the chamber walls. The dwarf continued, "The Quagoa threat has been driven back. Their leader, Riyuro, is dead. Our ancient halls will breathe freely again. You have done more than fulfill your contract—you have helped reclaim the pride of our people."
Another council member added, "The Frost Dragons you encountered will be studied and accounted for separately. We understand the circumstances of your battle and are grateful that you survived such a tremendous ordeal."
The Commander-in-Chief stepped forward then. "On behalf of the Dwarven Kingdom, I offer our heartfelt thanks. At one of our darkest moments, you extended your strength, your blades, and your loyalty. We will not forget this debt."
He gave a deep bow—an act so rare among dwarves that it silenced the chamber for a breath.
Then the rewards were brought in—chests wheeled in on thick carts, weapons carried on cushions of rune-etched stone, and armor glinting under torchlight.
One of the council members motioned forward. "We begin with Gagaran of Blue Rose."
Gagaran stepped up, grinning as she was presented with a custom-forged dwarven armor set, forged from a rare alloy unique to the Azerlisia Mountains. It gleamed bronze-gold, thickly plated but shockingly light. She slipped one of the gauntlets on and whistled. "Feels like cheating," she muttered. "I love it."
"Tina and Tia," the dwarf called next. The assassin twins stepped forward. To each, they presented a pair of curved daggers—long, thin, and cold as frost. The blades shimmered with enchantments designed for silent movement and quick, lethal strikes. "Forged from shadowsteel and embedded with enchantments for speed and silence," the dwarf explained.
"Perfect for our hobbies," Tina said with a wink.
Evileye came next. She was given a carefully sealed crystal vial, glowing faintly blue from the alchemical liquid swirling inside. "As requested," the dwarf said, "a vial of Crystallized Soulwater. Use it wisely. Few reagents like it exist in the world."
Evileye accepted it with a reverent nod, clutching it close.
"Clementine," the dwarf called.
Clementine sauntered up with her usual swagger. One of the dwarves stepped forward with a velvet box, opening it to reveal a custom pair of stilettos. Jet black, they gleamed dangerously in the light.
"Enchanted for resilience and agility," the dwarf explained, though he clearly didn't understand why anyone would want shoes like that. Clementine snatched them up with a grin that was equal parts joy and mischief. "Perfect. These'll kill people and look great."
The next part was simple.
"For Solution and Alex," another dwarf announced, "as requested—gold."
Two heavy chests were opened, each filled to the brim with coin. Gold bars, royal currency, dwarven marks—more than enough to make any mid-tier nation pause.
Solution gave a graceful nod. I also gave a nod. Easy. Simple.
Then came Lakyus.
One of the council members addressed her directly. "We regret that we could not fulfill your original request. Access to the sacred tomes of our ancestors is restricted. However, as a sign of goodwill—and appreciation for your efforts—we will grant you access to our historical library, under supervision."
Another dwarf stepped forward and presented her with an ornate dwarven armor set—lighter than Gagaran's, tailored for mobility but reinforced with layers of fine runework.
"And," the dwarf added, "a personal reward." He signaled, and another chest of gold was wheeled out. "May this aid your endeavors."
Lakyus nodded respectfully, though a touch of disappointment flickered in her eyes. Still, she accepted it with grace.
"And lastly, Gondo Firebeard," the final dwarf announced, his voice steady, though tinged with curiosity.
All eyes turned to the short, stocky dwarf standing beside us. Gondo stepped forward slowly, his expression more thoughtful than proud. He scratched his beard once, then glanced over his shoulder at me. Our eyes met.
He gave me the slightest of nods.
"I have no need for gold or armor," Gondo said clearly. "What I want is… the future of our people."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
He continued, "I ask for custody of all active Runesmiths within Feo Berkana."
The hall went still. One of the council members blinked, clearly startled. "That is… an unusual request. What do you intend to do with them?"
"I intend to revive the ancient art of runecrafting," Gondo replied firmly. "It's been forgotten, left to decay in the shadows of our history. But it's not dead. Not yet. And I believe I can bring it back."
"And where would you take them?" another asked, eyes narrowing.
"On a journey," Gondo said without hesitation. "Beyond these mountains. To the places where runes might still matter. With someone who values them." He turned slightly toward me again, not saying my name, but the gesture was enough to confirm his intent.
Another dwarf leaned forward. "You realize, Firebeard, that if you take our remaining Runesmiths, that knowledge leaves with you. Are you prepared to take that responsibility?"
"I am," Gondo said. "And I won't hoard that knowledge. I'll spread it. I'll make runes relevant again—whether in Feo Berkana or beyond."
A tense silence followed. The council members looked at one another, unspoken deliberation moving between them in glances and expressions only old rulers could understand.
Then, finally, one of them nodded. "So be it. As you were vital in guiding these warriors through the tunnels of our ancestors, and as your loyalty has never wavered… your request is granted. You shall have the Runesmiths."
A second added, "And should you find success, we hope you bring that knowledge back to us one day."
"I will," Gondo promised. "But first… I travel."
The Commander-in-Chief stepped forward and placed a hand on Gondo's shoulder. "Firebeard, your ancestors would be proud."
Then Commander-in-Chief continue, folding his hands behind his back. "You have done more than complete a mission. You have left your mark upon our kingdom. As promised, your accommodations are prepared, and we invite you to rest and recover. Tomorrow, we will formally seal this alliance—and your rewards will be yours to keep in full."
He looked to me directly, then added, "Once more, thank you. All of you."
With that, the ceremony ended. The doors opened to a warm welcome—dwarves offering bread, drink, and escort to our quarters.
~~~
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