Role

Chapter 4

I don't like the elves. I mean, I like elves, some of them are very dear to
me, but I don't like THE elves. We have all grown up on the stories of elves
making deals with dwarves and then reneging on the deal. "Yer can'nae trust ah
fairy!" And I feel it in them too, the subdued enmity, as I walk through their
cities and woods. Still, I would go. Even to the places where they live, as I
am curious how it came to be that at this point it is a historical trope that
elven maidens fall in love with dwarven Thanes. Well, I am also curious how
dwarven Thanes could fall for a beardless fairy. I am not sure it is always
witchery as our kin would claim.

The greatest surprise to me have been the caverns of Evermoon. Who would have
thought that the tree-hugging fairies would actually choose to live in caves.
Especially in ones so beautiful that any dwarf would love to call them home. I
spent a whole day walking through those halls. I ignored the glares from the
guards and just took in that beauty. Nordiach must have had a pleasant dream
when he created them.

For all the beauty of the day, I found sleeping in Evermoon to be impossible. I
could hear the rushing of water somewhere deep in the cavern and just couldn't
bring myself to sleep. Fucking water. It is the most terrifying sound for a
dwarf. It brings death, and not just in the simple form of drowning. Wet
pyerite ore has been the death of many dwarves. Well, heated cinnabar ore too,
but strangely we aren't as afraid of that. As I lay there waiting for the
fumes to suffocate me, I will never admit it, but for the first time in my
life I felt the urge to leave the caverns and seek open air.

Aimless wondering can take you to the strangest of places. A deep part of the
river. A darkness that beckons. I have felt that darkness before. The sheer
drop of a deep vertical shaft. An out of control galloping cart headed your
way. If you but chose not to move, or just make the slightest of movement and
there it is, Death. This time, in that darkness are these two most beautiful
emeralds. The sparkling eyes of a Goddess, singing. And if anything, seeing
those eyes, hearing that song, makes a dwarf glad to be alive. Maybe even as
much as ale, gems and gold.