We drew closer to the docks, and I noticed I could finally see some more details about the land just behind them.
There was a range of mountains that extended about as far as my eyes could see, while the waves crashed against the sharp rocks and steep cliff face where it met the sea. The docks, now only a few hundred meters from us, stood much taller than the ones back in Coltend, though I still had no idea just how much taller.
"Have you ever been to the Isles before?" Damien called out to Ysevel and I as we looked through the fog, prompting us to move toward the helm and stand beside him. "Can't say that I have. Is there anything I should be on the lookout for while I'm there?" I asked loosely, but what I really wanted was more recent information than whatever my mother might have had.
"Well, the food's decent, but I'd be careful with whatever drinks they offer you. Dwarves have come up with some interesting ways of creating alcohol, and much of it will be stronger than anything I think you've had," he chuckled, realizing that kind of answer wasn't what I was looking for when he noticed my raised eyebrow aimed at him.
"You're just like your mother in some ways, you know that?" he scoffed and shook his head. "I don't think that's a bad thing," I shrugged and upturned my lip. "No, it's not, but would it kill you to relax a little? They've cut themselves off from most outside interactions, even going so far as not allowing foreigners to stay here without consent from the Lord of Narin," he said with a distant stare.
"You mean only dwarves are allowed to live here? What about traders or sailors who come here to exchange goods?" I asked with visible curiosity. "They're forced to stay in a designated area a fair distance away from the capital. As for why that is, I have no idea," he said indifferently.
He must not know about the Great Partition, then, Ysevel sent me briefly, as if letting me know to watch what I would say next. That would make sense. What doesn't make sense is the fact that people are still allowed to trade with them. What could they possibly gain from not allowing foreigners to live there? I sent back, but Ysevel didn't seem to know the answer either.
"Either way, I'd be careful if I were you. They don't tend to like Elves, and I'm not sure how useful that little pendant of yours will be here," he cautioned with a nodding gesture to the pendant that was dangling openly around my neck. Heeding his advice, I tucked it away behind the opening around my neck and patted it gently to make sure it wasn't twisted.
"Good thinking. Oh, one last piece of advice," he began, turning the handles of the large, wooden wheel which guided the ship before leaning toward Ysevel and I. "Whatever your goal is here, don't say it directly," he said hushedly, shifting his gaze between the two of us before barking orders out to the crew to prepare for our arrival.
I wonder why he told us that, I sent Ysevel with an upturned lip. When we arrive, let me do the talking. Dwarves can be fickle bastards, and are more hard-headed than anyone you know, Mom sent with a knowing look.
I didn't have much of a choice but to trust her, after all, this was still unfamiliar territory. As we drew closer to the dock, which had somehow grown in size exponentially during our brief conversation, I suddenly realized that there were a lot of large metal parts that seemed to move on their own.
Or I thought they did, at least.
Near the base of one of these structures was a person, or dwarf, I reminded myself, with a pair of odd-looking sticks in his hands that seemed to control its movement. "Fascinating," I said, still awestruck by the absolute control he had over the massive device. "What do you even call something like that?" I asked, nudging my mom with an elbow.
"They call it a lifter. Pretty simple name, but that's precisely what it does. It just lifts things from the ship's deck onto the dock itself. Instead of taking multiple trips and risking whatever it is falling into the sea below," she said with a genuinely proud smile on her face.
Whether that was because she knew what it was, or she had some hand in creating it, I didn't know.
"What's that thing over there?" Ysevel asked, pointing to a large building. Upon closer inspection, I could see that it wasn't just the building, but the docks seemed to have the same, glowing stones, for lack of a better word, embedded into their structures. "That's one of the places we need to go before we set off to Narin. It's where they keep track of everything and everyone who comes through these docks," she said, though her tone suggested she didn't want to go there either.
"Is it like a bureaucratic department?" Ysevel asked, visibly disappointed in my mom's answer. "Unfortunately, yes," Mom sighed heavily. "Quiet. Don't let them hear you talking badly about them," Damien hissed, prompting Mom to roll her eyes. "They'll survive a little bit of shit being thrown at them," she scoffed and shook her head.
Don't talk shit, and don't tell them you're an elf. Interesting set of rules, wouldn't you say? I sent Ysevel wryly, making her stifle a chuckle.
As the ship slowed its pace to the dock, I could see there were a handful of dwarves already preparing to grab the mooring lines and secure us to the docks. When we got close enough, I was finally able to make out some of the details of what they were wearing.
Their short and stocky bodies were made doubly so by the thick garments they wore. The shirts were open at the necks, revealing a dense tuft of hair just beneath them, while their sleeves were rolled up to the height of their elbows. They each had a pair of devices on their heads, loosely reminding me of the eyes we Synners wore, but theirs were made of stone, with thin, transparent glass where the device would meet their eyes.
That could protect their eyes from harmful substances, right? Ysevel sent with visible curiosity, as if she wanted to try them on. Maybe from the sun, too, but I guess they don't need them today because of the fog, I sent back with an upturned lip.
As the crewmen let down the mooring lines, our ship gently drifted and then came to a sudden stop with a slight nudge, indicating it was securely fastened to the dock. The bridge we'd used to go onto the ship was lowered, but at the same time, the large metallic lifter began working its way over to us on thick metal pegs that moved like an insect's legs. They moved to a set of holes in the stone dock and locked into place, letting the others know it was prepared to be used.
"I've never seen anything like that," Ysevel said, still in awe at the strange device. I couldn't say anything in return, but it was safe to say that my surprise was evident. Kalia and the others came up to the deck as Ysevel, Damien, my mother, and I left the helm. "Glad we made it the rest of the way in one piece," Athar's alternate groaned as he cracked his neck and shook his head.
"Not sure I could say the same for these two, though," he continued in a normal voice, jutting his thumb over to Kalia and Devyr. While I couldn't see their faces, Kalia's scowl spilled over to me through our connection, nearly making me laugh. "Are you two alright?" I asked.
"I think my organs might have gotten rearranged from how much I puked, as Athar called it," Devyr whispered tiredly, hoping Damien hadn't just heard her speak after we told him they took a vow of silence. "I'm glad that was the only reason they did," I said in a similar voice playfully, giving Athar a knowing look and trying to lighten the mood just before I received a smack on my shoulder and a look of shock from Ysevel.
Whaaat? I thought it was funny, I sent, stifling a laugh. It was, but someone has to tell you that it was inappropriate, she said, jutting her head subtly to Kalia, who was, thankfully, turned away. What was inappropriate? Kalia asked without looking. Nothing, I sent back much more quickly than I intended.
I was grateful for the interruption by the lifter's arm that came down from above to grab a pallet of barrels and wooden chests the crewmen had prepared for it during our conversation. As it came down, I noticed the same glowing stones were embedded in the device along its length, though upon closer inspection, they radiated mana.
"H-How did they manage to do that?" Athar asked, seemingly the most shocked out of all of us. "Even Ardrin couldn't come up with something like that," he continued after a brief pause, causing Kalia to scoff. "You're not impressed?" he asked with genuine surprise. It's primitive at best, though it does remind me of some of the devices we have at Tason'Gareshe Numa, she sent Ysevel and I, but only shook her head at Athar to maintain her act.
"Come on, it's about time we got them off the ship before they expel anything else from their stomachs," Damien gestured for us to follow him from the top of the bridge with a raised eyebrow. Following his command, we made our way down the wooden bridge onto the stone docks.
There are guards on their way to inspect us. Don't answer any of their questions, just let me do the talking, Mom sent us all just before she made her way down the bridge. Got it, I sent back quickly.