"Outrageous!" I stormed and stamped my feet in long forgotten storage halls. Each box contained relics from the ancestors whose tales I knew by heart while attempting to echo their great deeds in my daily life. "What in the ancestors name was father thinking?"
My gauntleted hand impacted a stone pillar. Neither giving an inch. Dwarven craftsmanship meeting dwarven craftsmanship. Yet, despite the excellence of ancestral worksmanship, my father was allowing surface dwellers to move into a hall of ancient Durinn.
"This cannot stand!" I kicked at the same pillar. My steel toed boot protected my foot from damage, but failed to prevent the pain from radiating up my leg. "Yeow!"
For several minutes, I hopped about on one foot. My reverence for the contents prevented me from resting against the boxes about me.
When I recovered, I glared in the direction of the Surfacer's Hall. For too long I had kept my emotions in check out of traditional reverence for my father. No longer! Today I would go against my father for the sake of tradition.
"Etrig." My mother called as I passed her station. "Be certain to have your laundry prepared for the washing tomorrow. I believe you are running low on clean socks."
I paused for a moment to compose myself. While technically a child at twenty years of age, and would continue to be looked upon as such for another ten years, I resented comments such as these. Without the moment to prepare, I would have said something offensive. As it was, I held my tongue towards my mother as she was Matron of the Stormfall Clan.
"Yes, mother." It was all I could entrust myself to say before storming out of the ancestral hall.
Outside, I looked around.
The peaceful halls, carved out over centuries and perfected for a thousand years, were as quiet as they had been for all my life. Tradition and surety of the past continuing into the future steeped every square inch of the stone. Yet, my own father had disrupted that peace for some obscure future gain. For the sake of my clan and hold, this could not be allowed.
With purpose bestowed by the ancestors, I strode towards the Surfacer's Hall. A powerful blow that came from endless training with my grandfather burst open the door. While I lacked his ability to smash the stone to pieces, my efforts still produced a loud boom as granite slammed against limestone.
"Out!" I roared. "Every last one of you must leave the sacred Durinn halls."
My entry and words caused a stir. Feathers flew and mothers gathered their children close. For a moment I wondered where the menfolk were, until I recalled they were undergoing warrior training from my grandfather."
"Rude!" A surface-dweller woman, one from the odd race that had wings instead of arms and strange bird-like legs, came down to chastise me. "You're very rude!"
"Rude or not, I am right. This hall was crafted by ancient Durinn for Durinn. Your kind has no place in these halls." With the ease of a thousand repetitions, I readied my battle-axe. "I will drive you out by force if necessary."
"Stupid-dwarf! I'd like to see you try." She flapped her wings and gave a dismissive head toss, her brunette hair bouncing as she did so.
"Wazzock! I am a warrior of the Stormfall Clan. Centuries of tradition at my back. You have no chance against me."
"We'll see about that, stupid-dwarf. I've killed more demons than you have hair on your stupid beard."
That was it! My beard was still short, but I was very proud of it. If I hadn't been resolved to toss every last one of them out before, I was now.
"Raagh!" I raised my battle-axe and charged the woman. Doubtless she would flee and bring the rest of her kind with her. Purging the halls of their kind.
Instead of fleeing in terror, the woman echoed my headlong approach with an ear splitting screech. When we were just a few feet apart, my instincts told me to guard myself. My axe shifted in an instant from above my head to cover my face.
It wasn't a moment too soon. The woman's clawed feet scratched at the metal of my weapon. If I had not acted in time, then my face would have borne the scars for centuries.
"Rghh!" I growled and swung my weapon, but I met with empty air. Nothing! Not only had she dodged, but she was nowhere in my sight.
"Yaagh!" With exceptional speed, she dove from above. Gleaming claws sheening in the torchlight. I jumped back to avoid her. The next moment I wished I hadn't as regret hit like a boulder.
A retreat! A retreat in the face of a surface-dweller. The ancestors must be weeping from their vaunted halls at my disgraceful actions. I had taken one step back, but I would not take another!
"Not bad, Stupid-dwarf." The woman smirked from the air. Her wings kept her well out of reach of my blade. "You move faster than demons."
"That is not a compliment, wazzock." I snarled. Not only had my initial blow been foiled, but I was forced back by hers. Whatever temper my dwarven constitution had supplied me with had been tossed to the surface. "Also, my name is not 'stupid-dwarf'. I am Etrig Gradhogordsson! Learn my name as you go to the ancestors… Now get down here!"
"No!"
If I had thought to bring any other weapons with me, I would have flung my axe at her. As it was, I had to mightily resist the urge.
"No?" I rumbled, my voice almost cracking. "NO!"
"No. Fighting's stupid. That's why you're Stupid-dwarf."
"RAAGH!" I jumped about, swinging as high as I could, but the cavernous dwarven hall gave her more than enough room to stay out of my way. After twenty minutes, I had to stop and rest.
This was unacceptable. My father would have been able to continue for an hour. My grandfather would have brought down the mountain before conceding. My ancestors would win or perish. I could not disappoint them as their successor.
"What will it take to get you to fight me?" I panted in ragged breaths.
"Hmm." She thought for a minute. One of the other surface dwellers called something to her in their language.
Whatever it was that her clan sisters told her, it caused the woman to blush lightly.
"Hmm. I'm Tylys." The woman said. "I'll fight you if you take the wing-oath."
"Fine." I had no idea what a wing-oath was, but I assumed it was similar to our swearing on the oath stone. "When I win, you will leave Dul Vulkhan."
"If I win, you have to do whatever I want you to." Her blush deepened by a shade.
"Agreed. We will take the formal oath later, now fight me!"
Tylys gave another ear splitting shriek before diving down, her wings furled against her body as she picked up speed like an arrow. Fortunately, part of the Stormfall warrior training is learning to deflect arrows.
My training did not teach me to deal with living arrows though.
"Argh!" I let out a pained grunt as she ducked under my axe to strike my ribs. The armor held, but the unexpected impact forced the air from my lungs. "Next time you will not be so fortunate."
"Wanna bet, Stupid-dwarf?"
"I am Etrig!" I roared as I jumped up in pursuit of Tylys. "Remember my name, wazzock."
"Same to you, stupid-dwarf." She replied. This time she zoomed for my back, timing her flight for just after a swing, when I could not deflect using my weapon. Once again, my armor held firm against her claws. "I'm Tylys. Not 'wazzock'. What even is a wazzock? Is it tasty?"
"You! You are a wazzock!" This time I waited for her to swoop down and I managed to clip a few feathers. "A wazzock who will soon be ejected from the mountain."
"What's ejected?" Tylys seemed completely unaffected from the loss of a couple feathers. Displaying her lack of care through several loop-de-loops. "Is it a sandwich?"
"I'll turn you into a sandwich if you don't stop moving!" I bellowed at the top of my lungs. "Hold still so I can slice you into little pieces."
"I should say the same to you, wa-zuuk." She tried clawing my fingers, her wings battering at my face with compressed air. "Your metal clothes are way too annoying."
"It is armor. Not metal clothes." I retorted. "And it is pronounced 'wazzock'! If you are going to speak Durinn, speak it correctly or not at all. Hragh!"
This continued until both of us were breathless and far beyond the end of our stamina reserves. I could barely keep to my feet while Tylys was hanging on to her airborne position by the skin of her teeth. While I may be a young dwarf, it was still impressive that a surface-dweller could toe to- well, claw, with me. This was the best fight I had experienced in my life!
"One more." I gasped. Tylys fluttered to the floor with a confused look on her face. I wondered if it was the exhaustion that caused my heart to flutter as well. "One final exchange of blows. If neither of us seizes the win, we will call it a draw."
"Ok, but we'll definitely pick this back up." Tylys said with a tired grin. "This is fun!"
Her version of fun was rather different from mine. Certainly, I took joy in battle, just as my clan and ancestors did, but this was single combat for the sake of honor. Not something meant for a pleasant pastime. However, I could not deny that something in me wanted this to continue.
"HRAAAGH!" I called upon the deepest reserves in my core. The willpower bestowed upon me by thousands of years of honorable Durinn. My grip strengthened on the shaft of my battle-axe and my stance was firm upon the ancestral stone. "Come and meet your fate, Tylys."
"Prepare to meet yours, Stupid-dwarf!" Her grin lit up the hall as she took to the air. "I'm gonna win this time."
With energy that was unexpected in a short-lived race, Tylys ducked and weaved around the stone pillars and rafters. She picked up speed at a gradual pace until she was moving faster than an arrow. Then, at the blink of an eye, she turned and shot towards me.
I was confident in my ability to intercept her. My axe swung horizontally in a wound that would likely slay her, or at the very least wound her to the brink of death.
Something in me hesitated at that instant.
This was a warrior who fought with valor in the manner of her race. If she fell in battle now, I might never get to experience combat like this again. Not to mention my grandfather would lecture me for a century for slaying an opponent in a simple duel.
In that pause, my hand tilted the weapon just a tad. Such that if it impacted with her body the result would not be lethal.
However, in that half second delay, I missed my chance for victory as Tylys swooped underneath my axe and zoomed upwards in a hairpin turn. For two seconds, our bodies were inches apart and I felt my heart jump.
Then, my heart was bouncing about my ribcage as her surprisingly powerful legs kicked me back and I impacted with the far wall after tumbling ten whole feet. As I tried shaking off the darkness, I saw her sweeping around for another blow. There was no time to react as she dived from the ceiling, and yet another powerful blow drove me into unconsciousness.
When I woke, her talons were against my neck. They were razor sharp, as the many scratches on my armor could attest, and it would not take much for them to sever my arteries.
I… Had lost…
This was not my first loss, it was impossible to go through my clan's training without many, many losses to your name, but it was my first loss to a surface-dweller. One without decades of formal training and who acted with pure instinct. The sensation soured in my mouth.
"You win." I muttered. "Order me about as you will."
"Mhmm." Tylys took a moment to hop off my prone form. It was during that moment that I was able to notice how beautiful she was. She was as if the mountain halls had been condensed into a female form. Her exposed muscles rippled like subtle ore veins on solid stone, her face had the soft inviting glow of cavern light, and her eyes shone like hall-fires. I could not look away.
Once she was off, I found myself struggling to get to my feet. Every bone in my body ached like never before. When I finally regained my footing, I was nearly thrown off again. Not from any blow, but from Tylys hopping onto my shoulders like they were a branch.
"I've figured it out. You're gonna be my perch until you can beat me in battle."
"What!" This dishonor would not stand… Or rather… It would have to stand for now as I could do little but stand. "I accept. Bear in mind, I will not allow this to continue for long. Prepare for another fight within the week!"
"Ok, hubby-dwarf." She chirped something. I had not a clue what a hubby was. Perhaps, given how often she thought dwarven words were a type of food, she was calling me some sort of snack?
"Hmph!" I trudged towards the entrance of the hall, but Tylys did not get off when I opened the door. "Wait, do you intend on making me walk through the mountains like this?"
"Mhmm!" She chirped again. "You're my perch until you beat me in battle."
As much as I wanted to grab my axe and violently protest, my body failed to respond. It was all I could do to remain upright with her claws resting on my shoulders. So with grudges piling up, I heaved forward. One foot in front of the other as my muscles screamed in pain.
"You're back, Etrig-" Mother took one look at me and raised a curious eyebrow. "Son. Care to explain?"
I wished the mountain would swallow me whole. Take me to the ancestors!