"Why not? Invite him to come over and warm him up. There's still a bowl of broth!" Snorri smiled as he sat in front of the fire. He considered himself a polite corporal, at least when he wasn't busy.
.
Think about it, if he didn't meet that tribesman, he would just listen to the fellow compatriots around him chatting and bragging in this barren mountain, killing some time so that he could get into his tent and sleep.
Soon, an older dwarf dressed simply, even a little shabby, came to Snorri's side. He had a long, gray beard, and wore a simple belt with a rope buckle. There was not a single decent accessory on his body.
"May the ancestral goddess be with you, Master Snorri!" The old dwarf bowed slightly.
"Please sit down, my compatriots!" Snorri understood why the ranger thought he was disgraceful. He has not accumulated enough wealth at this age, and is generally a sign of incompetence among dwarves. But here comes Snorri.
I won't kick him out, but he still has a mouthful of hot soup.
"I'm a traveler. I'm looking for mineral veins in this area, and I can make a little money with my tools and wisdom. Do you want me to maintain your equipment for you? Or maybe I can offer some advice from experience?"
The old dwarf sat down next to Snorri, and he took off his backpack from his back and put it under his body. The thing looked very heavy, and the bulging stuff inside seemed to be the stuff he worked for.
"Ha! Master Snorri and I are both rune blacksmiths! Where do we need your maintenance? Don't..." Before Snorri could answer, Stringer shouted first, and the young man got rid of the teacher and
The oppression of the family inevitably leads to some letting go of oneself.
"For now, there is not much need. Let's eat first. Come over from Karak Norn and tell me about the situation there. I can give you some reward." Snorri declined politely.
Suggestions for maintaining weapons.
The old dwarf talked about what he saw and heard while eating. "It's not that good, it's not that bad either!" the old dwarf said after drinking half a bowl of soup.
"This has to start with Arik of Karak-Horn. He sent out troops for revenge in the winter, when everything in the forest of Athel Loren was withered. Everything went well in the past few days, but he destroyed several pointed ears.
Later, they collided with a large group of ungulates in the settlement area."
The old dwarf seemed to have a deep hatred for the elves in his words, but this was considered common among the elders.
"Beast men, those alien species that have mutated from chaos, they think of Arik together. I don't know whether he should be ashamed or proud of this."
"Then what? A three-way melee?" Snorri guided the old dwarf to reduce his complaints and return to the topic.
"Yes, it was a melee. There was a base camp of Pointy Ears, and there were as many beastmen as rats in a cave. Aric escaped in time, but he still paid a heavy price." As if he was mourning the death of his tribe, the old man
The dwarf sighed and took a puff of cigarette.
"What about now? Is the road to Desolate Castle still safe?" Snorri asked the question that he really cared about.
"Winter has passed and everything has revived. The Pointed Ears have once again received help from the forest spirits. They will soon be able to drive the beastmen out of Athel Loren."
"Old man, why do you say you don't have all these things? Just answer whatever Master Snorri asks you!"
Stringer interrupted the old dwarf. He was born into a noble family, and as a young and promising man, he spent a lot of effort to get away from the nagging of his parents and teachers. How could he endure listening to the mumblings of a down-and-out stranger in this mountain col?
.
"Don't be impatient, Mustache." The old dwarf was not frightened by Stringer. He said slowly: "In the past, no matter whether you were a humble or a noble dwarf, you could not help but have some time to study."
"You..." The young rune blacksmith was anxious.
"Ah, let him finish his sentence, or you can go sit over there!" Snorri stood up to smooth things over, and the people he invited in must start and end well.
"Huh, ho!" Stringer stood up and sat down on another fire. Snorri motioned to the stranger to continue.
"I was safe when I came here, but that doesn't mean it will be safe for you when I come here!" The old dwarf puffed out a puff of smoke.
"Isn't this nonsense?" Snorri thought to himself. The tribesmen around him were not as good-tempered as him, so they began to mumble.
"I can give you some advice: A qualified leader must clearly discern the opinions of those around him. If they ask you to go west, you should go east; if they ask you to go north, you must go south; if they ask you to stop,
, you should keep moving forward." The old dwarf said something like a riddle.
"What nonsense are you talking about, old fellow! Master Snorri is the chosen one of the ancestor goddess and the herald of Grimnir, the god of war! The ancestor gods guide his way forward, so why are you talking empty words here!"
Before Snorri could respond, Captain Glenson couldn't help it anymore.
"I'm not saying these things for him, I'm saying them for you!" The old dwarf's tone was still neither salty nor light. He leaned into Snorri's ear and said another word, then picked up his package and stepped into the wind.
In the snow.
"His warning is as unconvincing as his empty wallet." Bloxen muttered, looking at the old dwarf's retreating back. He was also a young man who didn't like to be preached to.
Only Snorri looked at the retreating figure and fell into deep thought. What he just said to his ear was, "Those guys, the things in your head may not be enough to cope with it!" This was almost Snorri's biggest mistake.
's secret.
With the confusion that could only be buried in his heart, Snorri set off early the next morning. Along the way, the dwarves encountered some horned beasts. These guys are the basic components of the beastmen and beast herds. Meeting them is not a surprise.
good sign.
Horned beasts are a hybrid of beasts and humans in appearance. Their basic shape is a sheep's head and legs plus the upper body of a human. They are covered in fur, smelly, and travel around with crude weapons and strong bodies.
The combat effectiveness of these basic units is equivalent to that of low-level units of human forces, and their small numbers hardly caused much trouble to the dwarves. Snorri successfully arrived at Karak-Gregor, Desolation Keep and Fearless Keep.
A small settlement in between.
This place was built on a small iron mine, and Qianbahao people from several clans settled here. They told Snorri that there were traces of high-level beastmen such as big horned beasts and centaurs being found around.
This settlement was only more than a day away from Desolate Castle. Although there was the threat of beastmen, Snorri was still forced to set off the next morning.
His team, including warriors, merchants and migrating tribesmen, already numbered more than 3,000, and Karak-Gregor simply could not accommodate so many people.