"Why?" I asked no one in particular for about the hundredth time that day. "Why? Just… Why?"
"I'd like to know why as well, young Mogrim." Elder Wevrik rumbled grumpily.
The reason for our shared confoundment was the several hundred beastkin and harpies that were walking behind the dwarf column and had been since we had decamped this morning. Not just the warriors of those races, but it seemed the entire population of the Grim Claw Tribe, and the local eagle harpy tribe, were following us.
"Yuki," I asked, "Are you sure they didn't tell you why they were coming with us?"
The catgirl fidgeted a bit before answering. "... Noooo…"
"Beastkin." Elder Wevrik's voice dropped an octave or two. "If you fail to speak truthfully, then I will triple your training regimen when we return to the mountain."
"Nya!" Yuki's tail went ramrod stiff in fear. She then began to spill the beans. "It's not my fault. Honestly! I just told the other beastkin how comfy life was with Mochi. I have plenty of yummy food, a comfy bed, and demons never attack my home. They asked how I managed to get such a sweet deal, and I said that I just followed Mochi home."
"Hmm. So they are following your example." Elder Wevrik stroked his beard with furrowed brows for a moment before laughing. "Ha! So this is all Mogrim's fault. I'll inform Clan Leader Gradhogord that they are not going to ambush us and to leave it to Mogrim."
"Wait! Don't leave it all to me, Elder." My protest went unanswered, so I just glared at Yuki. She yawned and tried to look innocent.
For the next week or two, with the aid of translator Yuki, I attempted to convince the beastkin and harpies that they couldn't just follow Yuki's example and expect beds and food for everyone. She was just a single kid, and they numbered in the hundreds! But they steadfastly repeated that I was going to give them food, a warm bed, and a safe place to live if they followed Yuki's example. No matter what I said to the contrary.
Something told me that information was getting lost in translation.
Naturally, I wanted to help, and I was more than willing to give them food purified from demon miasma, but there was a very firm limit as to what a twelve year old could do. One beastkin could be barely tolerated and ignored by the clans, but hundreds? Not a chance!
It all came to a head when we reached the gates. Of course, the guards refused to let the non-dwarven figures through and the beastkin and harpies were adamant about following me.
"Mogrim!" Clan Leader Gradhogord bellowed at me. "I don't want to resort to force in order to drive them off, it would be greatly dishonorable to fight against worthy warriors who fought alongside us, but I will do so if you don't find some way to resolve this."
"Yes, Clan Leader." I scratched my head, trying to figure out some way to fix this. Yuki and I met with Chief Haiku again. The leader of the harpy tribe, Chieftainess Zeliphis, joined our meeting as well.
"Mochi, friend of Yuki, why the delay?" Chief Haiku asked via Yuki.
"Again, it's Mogrim. Not Mochi, Mogrim. We can deal with that later though. Is there any way I can convince you all to go home?"
"Are you squawking kidding me?" Chief Zeliphis crowed. "Now that we've found someone who can give us safe nests."
"Yuki has obtained that which we have sought throughout the entire history of our tribe. I will not be the one to tell my people that we must continue our hunt for a safe home."
"We don't have room for all of you!" I protested.
"We can fit in surprisingly small spaces."
"As for us, we can rest in any tree branches you have."
I massaged my temple while trying to figure out how to explain that there were no tree branches underground. "Look. There's not just not enough room for all of you, but there also isn't enough food for everyone."
"We trust you, friend of the beastkin." Chief Haiku stated with total confidence. His wolf tail slowly wagged. "Yuki says that you can make food safe to eat. We have witnessed you take inedible miasma tainted scraps that would have been tossed on the trash heap, be converted to a feast at your hands. We have faith that you will be able to find room for us and purify the results of our hunt."
"What he said." Chief Zeliphis commented before preening her feathers. "You made all the yucky demons yummy to eat. Keep doing that and we'll even call you boss-dwarf."
"Yes. If you wish it, we will swear allegiance to you and fight for you. Just keep families safe and our bellies full."
Every other argument I made in an attempt to dissuade them from following me home was met with similar blind trust or blind optimism. Whatever Yuki had told them about me was super effective, or something was getting lost in translation.
Defeated, I walked back to Elder Wevrik and Clan Leader Gradhogord. "I'm sorry, but do you know of any unused halls?"
"Mogrim." Elder Wevrik rumbled. "Do you truly intend to give these people, who do not serve the High King, a place to live under the mountains?"
"Maybe? I can't just turn my back on all of them. Not to mention we can't turn our weapons against them." I struggled to put my thoughts in order, but then I was struck with an idea. "Actually, what if we just gave them a temporary home?"
"I listen for now, but speak quickly." Gradhogord was growing impatient and grumpy.
I made sure that my plan was foolproof before proceeding. "What if we provided them with an unused hall, trained those inclined to war to fight against demons, then settled them outside. After a decade or two, they'll begin farming. A decade after that, they'll start trading with us. In exchange for a temporary home and some training, we'll get long term allies and trading partners who can provide us with fresh food and beer."
""Beer!"" Elder Wevrik and the clan leader perked up at the same time. Their attention was now completely engaged. Currently, any and all beer came from Kel Boldahr, the seat of the High King and only port in the dwarven kingdom. It was hundreds of miles away and only a little made its way to Dul Vulkhan since every city and hold took a portion as import tax, so for every gallon we paid for, only a couple pints made its way into the cellars at a cost of an arm and a leg.
"Mhmm." The elder stroked his beard in thought. "My grandfather's grandfather told tales of beer brewed by the beastkin. In their heyday, they were masters who learned much from the dwarven Brewer's Guild. I would give anything to sample the brew he described."
"Just three decades?" Gradhogord asked. "Seems like a short amount of time before we see the results. A dwarf settlement would require a few centuries before they had a king appointed and began trade."
"Don't worry, shorter lived races move much quicker." I assured him. "Although it might take half a century before they get really good."
Both dwarves began speaking at a furious pace. Within ten minutes, they had a place in mind, supplies marked out, and concepts of a training plan. Beer was a powerful motivator to a dwarf. There was just one last thing.
"Mogrim." Elder Wevrik became serious. "Gradhogord and I will handle things for now, or until you turn fifteen and begin training with the Runescribe's Guild, but you still need to handle the most important thing. You will need to obtain permission from your father, the Thane, for this plan to proceed. If he refuses, then all of this will be for nothing."
With that in mind, we all made our way through the tunnels to Dul Vulkhan. The guards along the path initially resisted having beastkin pass, they changed their minds very quickly when they heard the magic words. Fresh and cheap beer. Not a single one cared that it would take a few decades to set up. Dwarf lives were long and they could afford to wait.
Eventually we reached the city and split up. The dwarves of the Stormfall Clan escorted the beastkin and harpies to a spare training hall that they currently were using as storage, Yuki went with them to translate, and I went to the Sitzung. It was the dwarven equivalent to the town hall, the beating bureaucratic heart of the city where all major decisions were made. There was another, larger, ceremonial hall under the flag of the Goldshield Clan where my father technically should have been according to tradition, but I assumed that for daily work he'd be where the work was occurring. At least that's where I'd be if I was the thane.
"What are you doing here, youngling?" A very annoyed bespectacled dwarf asked from behind a mountain of paperwork as I was about to knock on a door that looked important enough. "You aren't of the Featherhand Clan."
"I'm Mogrim Lonnisson." I replied. "Of the Goldshield Clan. I'm here to see my father. Is he here?"
"Oh, you? Here." A piece of paper was taken from a drawer slid across the desk to me.
Written in bold runes were the simple words. 'Approved. Handle it yourself.'
"Um…" I was moderately sure that my request would require more than a blank check. "I really think I should speak with my father about this."
I could almost see a vein throbbing on the scribe's forehead. "Youngling, I'll let you in on something so that you go away and never bother me again." He gestured at me to open a drawer on a filing cabinet marked 'Use until Mogrim comes of age.' It was filled with similar pieces of paper to the one in my hand.
"Father, why in the ancestors name do you trust me so much?"
"He doesn't." The dwarf snapped, slamming the drawer. "Thane Lonni has grand ambitions, far beyond managing a remote border town left to him by his father. He aspires to serve alongside the High King within the century and constantly strives towards his goals. Thus he does not have a single instant of time to spare for you… Also, he isn't here. He's attending to the High King in Kel Boldahr and won't be back for at least a few decades, perhaps a century. Now go away and don't come back."
He then professionally ignored me until I could do nothing but leave.
"I got the approval from my father." I told Elder Wevrik as I arrived at the Stormfall Clan storage hall. It was a total mess at the moment, as expected for moving in day, but order was rapidly being restored by hard working dwarves and beastkin.
"Hmph. That was fast." Elder Wevrik inspected the approval paper. "I expected the negotiations to take a few days at least. Well, with the Thane's approval, we can begin planning for the future. Tomorrow we'll test everyone and see which ones are worth training."
"I'll start working on crafting arms and armor for them." I said. My bags were positively bursting with demon cores that were just begging for me to make them into advanced tech.
"Do not lose focus on your own training, Mogrim." The elder said in a menacing tone. "Fail to keep up with the goals set before you, and all nine hells await you!"
Gulp!
"How tough are you gonna train the beastkin and harpies?" I asked. "Maybe I should have convinced them to go home?"
"It's far too late now, Mogrim. For both you and them. Far, far too late."