>>5347519The older dwarves were a liability you couldn’t afford to leave unchecked. As such, the old were disposed of, made raw material for the amulets. Well, except for one—an old male known as the ‘Stonesniffer’, kept alive and imprisoned for his useful and uncanny olfactory capabilities, and knowledge of minerals, which could prove useful in years ahead. Still, you had promised the Novice not to tarry, and thus you had no desire to slow down your journey—you DID promise the Novice not to tarry, after all. You were left with only the young to choose from, as a result.
From among these, a few options presented themselves. There was a rather feral young male, still an adolescent but already growing a beard, and with an aura of feral darkness; you deem this one, whose name you think started with a ‘K’, too unmanageable to take with you. The female with the pale hair and amethyst eyes certainly has a steely spine,, and seems a reasonable and pragmatic sort, but there’s something… Intimidating about her demeanour, which you can’t quite put your finger on, and you decide she could present a liability all her own. You want servants whose skills can be shown off, and who can keep up with your vigorous pace, but who will not endanger or complicate your mission.
In the end, you select two such dwarves. One is an adolescent male, just beyond the cusp of dwarven childhood; this, apparently, makes him about twice your own age. He is called ‘Karz’, and is beardless and incredibly self-conscious of this, tucking his chin automatically into the collar of his jacket and wearing a brownish scarf to hide this deficiency. However, he has a deep, rich voice, and is capable of some incredible feats of dwarven… Well, they call it ‘throat-song’, but the rumbling warbles carry a hint of magic not unlike the bardic music of poor Paeris. A part of you wonders if it is the half-elf Degenerate’s memory which drove this choice… But no, that is base sentimentality, beneath you. Right?
The other is a sort of herbalist and apothecary—a female, called Davora. She is childless, barely an adult, and with her new husband newly dead at your forces’ talons, she seemed at a loss among her own people, all overwhelmed with grief and the need to care for their young and manage their emotions in this turbulent time. When you selected her from among the dwarves to serve you in this journey, she practically jumped at the time—and, with her rather impressive steatopygia, you think you even heard a ‘clap’. The Novice shot you a pointed look when you announced Davora’s selection, but with the Novice staying behind by necessity, a master of healing seemed prudent… Even if her home remedies hold no candle to true magic.
“Sure, THAT’S why you selected her,” the Novice had mocked, shooting you a knowing glance. “You have a type. You know that? It is, frankly, transparent.”
