Milli sat in the narrow confines of her little room, although quite spacious compared to the quarters of the young apprentices, and looked at the frayed and faded gold paint that edged the woodwork trim around the base of her door and sighed deeply. She knew every detail of the room that served as her residence from a time before she could remember. She knew, by heart, the story of how a caravan of dwarf iron traders found her in the smoke filled ruin of her village after an attack by raiders. She’d heard it so often now that when she saw one of the elders giving her that look and the self-satisfied grin that came with it she knew exactly what was coming. Now that she was old enough to recognize the signs she generally fled to the room they gave her all those years ago and waited a few hours. She knew every nook and cranny of the place from the faded gold paint — these dwarves loved their gold — to the smooth marble floors where she broke her nose in a fall as a young girl. The older she got the more male dwarves, both young and old, liked to grab her by the arm and tell her stories about how grateful she should be to have a home here in Craggen Steep, the hidden citadel; how only a few non-dwarves ever lived inside the city in its long, rich history; how she could never go to the outside world where she might betray the secret of its location.
After a bit more staring she went over to a little cherry wood table in the corner of the room that was at just the right height for her to sit and write. It was a gift from a dwarf for her tenth birthday and she ran her finger over the initials carved into the top surface. Wood was a rarity here in Craggen Steep where metal or stone furniture was the norm. She opened a leather bound booklet and flipped through the pages, stopping now and again to read a passage, as a little smile came to her face and the hint of a tear to her eye. “I don’t want to leave but I can’t stand to stay anymore,” she said out-loud just as a firm thump came from the heavy stone door to her right. “Who is it?” she said wearily without looking up from the diary. It was certainly one of the dozen of higher class dwarf suitors that plagued her these days in ever increasing numbers. Of course, they didn’t want wives, no, that would be scandalous as their children would be half-breeds. Pretty mistresses they could shower with gifts and affection was more to their taste.
“The First Edos,” said a gruff voice and Milli’s eyes suddenly opened wide and she scanned the room quickly, her head moving back and forth.
“I’ll be right there,” she said, and immediately darted over to her bed, grabbed some of her underthings, looked around, and then stashed them under the mattress. She glanced around the room a second time, took a step towards the door, then went back over to the desk and shut the dairy, before finally moving to the heavy stone door and opening it with only the slightest pull. “Hello?” she said to the elderly dwarf who stood at the door. Her eyes bulged when she saw the platinum bands, gem encrusted, that served as beard holders and she couldn’t help but give out a little gasp and unconsciously curtseyed. “I… I wasn’t expecting anyone and especially not you, First Edos.”
“I know, I know, dear,” said the dwarf, bowing down just a little so his long beard gently grazed the ground. “Might I come in and talk for a bit?”
Milli’s eyes opened wide and she bobbed her head up and down, “Of course, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, please, come in,” she said with a wave of her arms as she stood back from the door. “It’s not very roomy, I’m sure you’re used to better, um, would you like some coffee?”
“That would be very nice,” said Fierfelm as he shuffled into the room and took a seat on a small chair in the corner, “you don’t have any pastries by chance? I’ve taken to eating them more and more over the years and I know how you little halflings love to bake.”
Milli shook her head, “I… no, sir, First Edos, I… I can run out and get some, there’s a pastry shop not far from here.”
“No, no, that’s all right dear, it’s just that I’ve grown fond of sweets in my old age, and now, with things the way they are, you never know where your last meal is coming from,” he uttered this last proclamation and sat down with a thump on the sofa near the kitchen. It was made of solid rock although thick cotton stuffed cushions softened the blow and a number of throw pillows, embroidered with pink and yellow hammers, tongs, and bellows, made it more comfortable. “Ahh,” he said, “this is quite nice indeed. So, where is the hidden door to the rest of it?” he asked as he peered around the room with a quizzical expression on his face.
Milli looked around the room, at least three times the size of the quarters of her friends and shook her head, “No hidden doors, I’m afraid this is all there is.”
“Oh, I see, I see,” said Fierfelm as he shook his head sadly. “I was an apprentice metal smith once you know, but that was fifty years ago and it’s hard to remember what that sort of life was like after you’ve been away from it for so long. I didn’t mean any harm; you know how we dwarves love hidden chambers, secret doors, puzzle rooms, and the like. I hope you don’t think me rude?”
“Oh no, not at all, First Edos, please, I’m quite honored to have you visit me,” she continued and then hustled over to her little stove, put a kettle on it with an easy motion, and fumbled through several cabinets before she found a tin filled with coffee beans, “It’s only local grade, from the foothills of the mountain,” she said with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I’m sure you’re used to better.”
“It’ll be fine, that’s very sweet of you. I’ve heard good things about you over the years you know, and now you’re friends with young Delius, yes?”
“You’ve heard of me?” said Milli and stopped her preparations for a moment as she turned to face the old gray beard. “Really? Me?”
“My friend Borrombus speaks quite highly of you,” said Fierfelm as looked closely around the small chamber for the first time. “It’s all coming back to me, yes, when I was a young apprentice my room was much smaller than this, but I suspect you’ve seen an apprentice’s chambers. It’s good for them to suffer a bit, now isn’t it? Although I’ve had my differences with the High Council over the matter, suffering is one thing but brutalization is another. We’ve had discussions we have.”
“Oh, I…,” said Milli with a blush and her hand came to her cheeks which flushed red, “what does he say?”
“Oh dear, I’ve embarrassed you,” said Fierfelm, stood up, walked over to the girl, and gave her a little pat on the shoulder. “I’m an old fellow and I forget how what other people think is important to you young folk. In any case, we’re all very fond of young Delius but I’m afraid his future with us is rather limited, his breeding you know.”
“It’s not fair,” started Milli and turned to look at the old dwarf, her yellow eyes now glistening with tears but her voice hard and sparking with anger. “He can’t help who his grandparents were. You’re not from one of the three families, you should know better than anyone.”
“Oh, I agree completely, it will be the downfall of Craggen Steep in the end,” said Fierfelm as he looked around the little room. “Now, where do you keep the cups and saucers?”
“Over there,” said the halfling girl pointing to a cupboard near the sink, “but I’m afraid they won’t be the fancy kind you’re used to.”
“Quite all right, quite all right indeed. Frankly, all that gold doesn’t make for a hot cup of coffee, I prefer a clay mug anytime and not near as heavy. The older I get the more I treasure the simple things. Did you know as a boy, me and the other apprentices used to roast the crusty ends of week old bread for our coffee and drink it from tin water cups.”
“No!” said Milli her eyes somehow gettingeven wider yet, “you?”
“Indeed, indeed, that was before old Udor picked me out as the most promising apprentice. I didn’t realize it at the time but he was taking a big risk. There were plenty of Blackirons and Firefists who wanted their sons and nephews for the position but Udor wasn’t one for ceremony, he was a metal-smith of the best sort.”
“Udor made the Hammer of Fire,” said Milli in a whisper as she looked around the room at the embroidery on the couch, the paintings on the wall, all pink and yellow but not of flowers; they showed hammers, anvils, weapons of war; that was the life of a dwarf in Craggen Steep and that was her life. She’d first heard of the great Hammer of Fire long before she ever got to see the First Edos’s workshop. It was only later, when she became a young woman that handsome young dwarves on the fast path to success in Craggen Steep began to call and take her to places like that.
“Oh yes, yes indeed, he put it together from the Staff of Faelom and the great hammer head Kanoner. Now all of those traditionalists say he didn’t make the thing because he merely wedded the two parts but don’t you listen to them. He made the hammer and I watched him do it. He wouldn’t let anyone else into the Deep Forge for a year, he used the Silk Anvil of Rowena, indeed he did. It was the last thing he forged before they removed him from power, just like they’re going to remove me.”
“The Silk Anvil, what’s that?”
“Oh dear, yes, well, I travel in such lofty circles I forget that some things are secret. Never you mind dearie, it’s just something from a long time ago.”
“Oh,” said Milli just as the kettle began to boil. “Oh no, that’s the water, here, sit down and I’ll get everything ready. Do you take sugar, cream?”
“You don’t have any peppermint by any chance, do you?”
Milli’s green eyes again grew wide at the mention of the incredibly costly treat, “Oh, I’m sorry, no, I’ve never had… that is to say I’ve heard of it… is it good with coffee?”
“An acquired taste, but don’t let it bother you, just let’s you and I have a little talk, yes, cream is fine, a little sugar as well, not quite peppermint. One does get used to the trappings of power, doesn’t one?”
Milli blinked rapidly for a moment and said under her breath, “I guess?”
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” said the girl as she finished with the kettle and sat down next to the gaudily bedecked dwarf. One of his beard bands alone contained more wealth than the girl could possibly hope to attain in a lifetime. His robes were made of the finest silk imported from some far off lands, even his rings glowed with magical energy and sported gemstones the size of her thumb, “First Edos, why are you here?”
“Please, call me Fierfelm, I’m only First Edos in name now that that the Firefists have taken control. I’ll be eased out with awards and ceremonies but they’ll never let me back into the Deep Forge to pursue my craft,” this last he said as he eyes took on a faraway look and he sighed. “I’ll miss that forge more than anything else. I remember the first day I saw it with old Udor. It was, it still is, the most beautiful thing in all of Craggen Steep. The seat of power for old Gazadum, where Hovslaag himself forged the tools used to craft the world.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Milli and patted the old fellow on the hand. “It must be terrible to have known such beauty and lose it.”
Fierfelm smiled and nodded his head, “That’s very kind of you to say. I’ve trusted Borrombus and his nephew to handle things up until now but the Firefists knew my plans all along, so I’ve come to you personally this time. I was followed, you can be sure of that, but they know everything in any case so all I can do is try to fulfill my promise personally. I’ll not rely on others anymore.”
“I’m not sure I really understand,” said Milli and took a sip from the steaming cup.
“The Hammer of Fire, old Udor wanted it to be used, but the Firefist family won’t allow it and frankly, until your friend Delius came along there wasn’t really anyone who could effectively wield it in any case.”
“Dol won’t do it,” said Milli. “We tried to convince him but he’s stubborn, he won’t listen to reason.”
“Borrombus explained everything to me,” said the old dwarf with a nod of his head as he took a sip of his coffee and forced it down his throat with an expression as if he just swallowed an iron ingot. “This coffee is just atrocious; I suppose once I’ve been removed as First Edos I’ll have nothing to look forward to except death and bad coffee.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Milli and looked down at her cup without a further word.
“Never you mind,” said Fierfelm, “never you mind. I’m here for something far more important than coffee. It’s a good thing that young man of yours is stubborn because last night was a trap. They knew you would try and steal the hammer and had agents there to prevent it.”
“He’s not really my young man,” said Milli with a little blush, “we’re more just friends.”
“That’s nice, in any case, I’ve come to you with a plan, something that Delius will like, it’s something I’d like myself but I’m not young anymore, and frankly, even when I was young I wasn’t much the adventuring sort. I’m a fair blacksmith, no false modesty there, I know my way around the hammer and anvil, but as for killing and rescuing fair maids, it’s not really my forte. Where was I?”
“A plan,” suggested Milli with a hopeful look in her eyes as she gazed up at the old dwarf.
“That’s right; now, I can’t tell you how to get to the hammer anymore and any suggestion I make is based on information fed to me by the Firefists. It’s been nothing but lies and spying for years now. That miserable apprentice they’ve saddled me with is nothing but a lying filthy little spy with no character whatsoever. I’ve tried with him, tried to instill some discipline, some pride of work, but he’s grown up spoiled, entitled, rich, there’s nothing I can do with him. But young Delius, I can give him something to do with the hammer.”
“What?” said Milli her coffee cup poised half-way between the saucer and her flush lips.
“What do you know about Craggen Steep?” said Fierfelm as he carefully set down his coffee cup in the chipped saucer and turned his old eyes to the girl. “What do you really know?”
“Well, it’s a secret citadel, hidden from the rest of the world, that it is endless miles of caverns tunneled through the mountains, that… that… that’s it’s ruled by a council of elders but the blacksmiths, the master blacksmith’s, the Edos’s, they are the other power.”
“Yes, but what do you know of its origins?”
“I don’t really know very much. They brought me here as a little girl but I’m still an outsider, they won’t tell me anything.”
“What do you make of the great passages, the grand halls?”
“Oh, they’re magnificent, the stone work is so beautiful, the gems, the precious metals, the artisan work, it’s the most beautiful place there could ever be,” said Milli her eyes glowing and a wide smile on her face as she gazed towards the corner of the room and saw not the faded paint, the cracked trim, but something else, something far grander.
“What do you think of their size?” Interrupted the old dwarf, breaking her from her reverie.
“Their size?” repeated Milli.
“Yes, their size,” said the old dwarf with a twinkle in his eyes.
“The grand passage that cuts through the heart of the mountain must be a hundred feet tall, the ancient cathedrals to Davim and the other Gods, you could walk an army through them.”
“What do you make of that?” said Fierfelm with a little nod of his head.
“I’m not sure I understand,” said Milli, her head tilted to one side and her nose slightly wrinkled as she gazed at the elderly dwarf.
The First Edos smiled gently at the girl and raised his eyebrows.
“Well, I suppose, as a girl, I always wondered, why build such massive structures when you’re, well, not exactly very tall,” she said. “Is that what you mean?”
The First Edos nodded his head and took another sip of his coffee, “It’s best to make it too hot and then it cools nicely after a bit. These porcelain cups are quite nice for keeping the heat. Gold is ridiculous as a coffee mug, just ridiculous; you’d think someone would think of that.”
Milli closed one eye and shook her head, “What?”
“The coffee, best to make it too hot.”
“Yes, I’m sorry First Edos, would you like me to put the kettle back on?” said Milli.
“What do you make of that?” said Fierfelm.
Milli blinked three times with her long lashes and stared at the elderly dwarf for a long moment, “The halls?”
“Of course, what else were we talking about?”
“I suppose…,” she started and put her hand to her chin, “I suppose it means that they weren’t built for dwarves in the first place.”
“Or even by dwarves,” said Fierfelm and took another sip of his coffee, made a sour face, looked at the cup, and frowned.
Milli stood up, went to the kitchen, put the kettle back on the fire, and then returned to sit down next to the First Edos, “If not dwarves, then who built all this?”
“Elementals, from the dawn of time, the greatest elemental of them all, Gazadum, this was his seat of power,” said Fierfelm, put the coffee cup to his lips for a moment, wrinkled his nose, and set it back down again without drinking further.
“But, but, but where are they now? These elementals?” said Milli as she sat down with a thump.
“You know the story of Dar Drawhammer,” said Fierfelm with another distasteful look at his coffee. “Did you say you had cake?”
Milli jumped to her feet again and went back to the kitchen as she looked over her shoulder, “I’ve heard the story a thousand times, how Dar defeated the Elementals with the shield… wait, you mean that story is about here, about Craggen Steep? They never say that, they always say it was some far off place.”
Fierfelm nodded his head and the platinum circled around his beard bumped into the table and sent some of the coffee in his cup slopping out. “It’s all a secret you know.”
“Let me get that,” said Milli as she rushed back over to the table with a rag just as the kettle began to whistle.
“You said there was cake?” repeated Fierfelm.
“Oh, yes, I’ll get some, in just a moment, I think I might have it around here, somewhere,” said Milli with a desperate look at the kettle, the spill, and her cupboard.
“I thought all you halflings loved to bake?”
“I was raised by dwarves,” said Milli as she suddenly stopped and looked at the old dwarf with a wide smile, “I love gold.”
Fierfelm nodded his head, “Not a bad thing necessarily, although to extreme, it is a dangerous pursuit. Perhaps, because I have so much, it is not as valuable to me. One doesn’t value what one has in abundance I suppose, it’s the nature of a dwarf.”
“What about those elementals, how does that fit into convincing Dol to take the hammer?” asked Milli as she finished cleaning up the mess, although her subsequent neglect of the kettle saw boiling water slop onto the stove and hiss violently.
“Gazadum was possibly the first of the elementals and certainly one of the most powerful,” said Fierfelm. “When Dar drove him from Balag Tol he fled to the southlands along with many of the other powerful fire elementals including Hezfer the Blue Flame who consumed Onod, his twin sister Eleniak the Dancing Flame, and the terrible Shadak the Black Fire.”
“Balag Tol?” asked Milli as she returned with a fresh cup of coffee and a rather malformed pastry, icing smeared unevenly across its surface, “I’m sorry about the tart, it’s a few days old, I haven’t been shopping, I thought we were going to take the hammer and leave, so I’ve let things slip a little.”
“Quite all right, my dear,” said Fierfelm and he looked at the misshapen little tart with a glance and then raised the coffee cup to his lips.
“What is Balag Tol?” repeated Milli.
“What’s that?” said the First Edos.
“Balag Tol, I’ve never heard of it,” said Milli.
“Oh, that’s Craggen Steep, of course,” said Fierfelm with a little wave of his left hand as he sipped from the cup and grimaced again. “That’s what it was called before, at least so the chronicles say. They say Gazadum ruled there for a countless years while he and his fellow elementals shaped the world. It is his residual heat that still fires the Deep Forge all these centuries later.”
“What does all this have to do with the Hammer of Fire, and Dol?” said Milli as she leaned forward, “Not that I mind hearing the stories.”
“Gazadum,” said Fierfelm as he nodded his head.
Milli looked at him expectantly but the old dwarf just took another sip from his coffee.
“What about Gazadum,” said Milli.
“Haven’t I told you?” said Fierfelm, a puzzled expression on his face.
“Maybe I missed it,” said Milli with a little grin and put on the smile that always got her what she wanted. She patted the old dwarf on the back, “repeat it for me, please?”
“I’ve found out where he fled. It’s in the south, the far south, a place called Koalhelm Tol,” said Fierfelm with a silly little grin.
“Yes?” Milli.
“Don’t you see?” asked Fierfelm the many wrinkles on his forehead multiplying at an alarming rate.
“No,” said Milli with a shrug of her shoulders as she poked at her pastry in a rather desultory fashion. It didn’t look very good.
“Even Dar Drawhammer with the Great Shield could not slay Gazadum, but the hammer, Kanoner, was forged by Orin Firefist. It was the first thing created on the Deep Forge by dwarf hands, and inside is the essence of Gazadum himself. The haft is the bottom half of the Staff of Faelom taken from the elf king by a great dwarf warrior. It was fashioned from the first and most powerful of the shepherds. With this weapon a dwarf could slay the greatest of the fire elementals. And the dwarf who did that, he would live forever in the stories.”
Milli looked at the old dwarf for a long moment as the light of recognition shone in her sparkling yellow eyes, “I think Dol might like that.”