One, Dwarves

She was a dwarf.

Stout, well muscled, stubborn as anything. 

They say dwarves are unchanging as the stone they live in. Only the wind and water can garner change over years and years of perseverance. In a world of stone, she is the water eroding ancient ideologies. The world is changing, she insists, and we must change with it. 

The heretic.

"It's not a broken system," Arget insisted. A noblewoman, with three charges; little ones. She is prized for her fertility. Motherly; the only one who would listen to such mad ravings without judging. "Have not we thrived for years and years?" The late Queen had passed, and the Dwarfdom was in disarray to find a new ruler. "The late Hele kept our clans united for 300 years." 

Unka listened intently, as always she did, to the arguments presented to her. A debate was about learning, and no one would benefit from angry yelling or high tempers. Feuds ran long and deep with dwarves and Unka could not afford such things. She wondered, sometimes, if her opinion was too complicated for others to understand... Or if she was simply incapable of comprehending what others tried to explain. "That deals with social hierarchy, which is another problem altogether." Unka insisted, her patience infinite, like the fire lit stone around them.

"You said that dwarves take too long to reach decisions, so I assumed,"

"Hele was a fine Queen, but it took 5 years to determine that she should sit on the throne. Meanwhile, topside-"

"Cah," Spat Arget, "That war was no concern of the dwarves."

"It was, Unka. We rely on those topside for trade. It was a war, and who makes finer weapons and armor than the dwarves? We missed a great economical opportunity because we shut topsiders out during an election."

"We do not need their money. What kingdom of men or elves has been more prosperous than that of the dwarves?"

"We wouldn't know-"

"Mama," A small one ran forward, a hand clutching at his backside to hold his trousers, "The seam split right down the middle!" And the argument was over as Arget tried to determine how the heavy twine had split so perfectly. "Did someone cut this?" She muttered angrily under her breath as the boy squirmed. "Go grab the other two, Unka?"

He was a dwarf.

A mighty beard, heavily braided and with many intricate metal ties. Candidate for King. Son of the late Hele. 

His job in the election is now over after having been nominated. If he wishes to sway the councils opinion he must do so through his actions towards the community. Currently deep in the mountain, where the fire of the earth burns bright. He is one of those protecting a group of researchers as they attempt to learn about the world around them. 

"Confound it, stop that awful racket. I'm trying to write." Cal bellowed, his voice barely carrying over the battle going on around him. Every time Thinor crashed around and swung his axe the flames flickered dramatically and Cal had to squint through glasses that were dirty from weeks of travelling. 

Thinor snarled as an incisor inched towards his face. Heavily armored hands were practically level with his chest, the only thing between him and death the handle of his axe. With a mighty throw, the great crawler was tossed to the side. The lamps were extinguished as the blasted thing connected with the ground. "Pity's sake," Cal hissed. Thinor swung blindly, eyes slow to adjust, and heard the satisfying connection. Death was silent for the crawlers. 

Thinor pulled his axe from the beast and dealt it another blow, to be safe. "You," The Queen's son hollered, swinging his axe Cal's way. Blood splattered the far wall, but Cal shielded his pages with his body. "It's hard enough fighting without your incessant chatter!"

Cal made an indignant noise as blood sprayed across his face. "I'm impressed you know a word like incessant, I'll forgive you your attempted sabotage on my life's work." 

"Sabotage!" Thinor spluttered, metal boots thumping on the ground as he moved to relight the lamp. "I'm risking my life for those stone-forsaken scribbles!" The Queen's son kicked the crawler as he passed, making the twitching was just those the dead sometimes made. 

"Where are you taking my light?"

"It's not safe here anymore. We need to regroup." Cal continued to protest, but when these fell on deaf ears he scrambled to pick up his things and chase after the retreating lamp.

The calls of joy were many as Thinor's company returned from their excursion. With them came food. There was no way to farm underground. The dwarf diet consisted on what could be foraged in the caves, and from what was slain in them. In time where the dwarves stood in disarray, such as during an election, there were no outsiders allowed in and they could not trade for food. Woe for those who had been slain would come later. 

Dwarves grieved through celebration. Lots of ale.

"I am not interested in reproducing demon spawn," Unka growled, as Arget continued her insistence. "Your brats are more than enough trouble for me."

"There will be no one to carry on your name, Una," Cooed Arget, "How can you have no interest in the company of men?" The dwarves were a long lived species, but they reproduced slowly. Arget was an anomaly among their race, having already sired three children. She is not tied down to one man, but content to see many. For the betterment of their race, she would likely keep having them until she couldn't any longer. This was her choice. There were many benefits to a woman of her status. Children were highly regarded and looked after by all.

"Your company is all that I need, sister." An affectionate term. 'Sister of the Stone'. One and the same. 

"How I would like you to have children, Una, so that I might call them brats and see if you deal with it half as gracefully as I have." Arget teased, continuing to soften Unka's name. In common society this would be a slight, but the two women had known each other for a long time. 

"The heretic is here," One drunkard muttered into his beard, an attempt at stealth that carried through the tavern regardless. "Come to spew nonsense and taint the evening."

Unka jostled, although she knew better than to lash out... or even to try and explain herself to this man.

"Cah, the only one I see tainting anything is you," Arget snarled, grabbing a handful of beard and yanking the dwarf to his feet. "You've got a rotten smell about you, it's best you went home to shower." Arget was a powerful female, her youth spent smithing in her parent's shop. 

"Hey now, ease off, the night's barely started," A bartender had come to intervene, casually swatting away any hands that got too close to her skirts. The she-dwarf paused upon realizing who she had approached and smoothed the cloth nervously. "Arget," She said respectfully, head tilting slightly. "I meant no disrespect."

The drunkard muttered something, shaking away from the previous smith and found his way out the door. Arget smiled peaceably towards the bartender. "We're not here to cause trouble," Ignoring the shorter woman's protests, Arget simply continued, "I'm looking for Thinor."

"Retired, I believe, to celebrate within his estate perhaps." She bowed and quickly returned to the bar. 

"Useless bonehead, I'll be back."

Unka was left alone. She pushed her glasses up nervously with the thumb of one hand before darting out of the tavern in pursuit of Arget. 

A heretic was almost worse than those who were without occupation. Those who could not work to earn a living, or hope to move up in status. There was far too much discrimination in this city. It held them back. Unka was sure of it. 

Author's Note

Just gathering my thoughts. Obvious Dragon Age inspiration is obvious.