CHAPTER 39 I’M HERE ON A QUEST

Henrietta

Gerda was lovely, but duty called!

I said goodbye after I finished my tea and headed up the road a ways to the turnoff.

According to the bridge troll, the exits to Gren's Keep and Frolin were just a stone's throw apart on either side of the road. Right for the dwarves and left for the beastfolk. The forest had moved a bit recently, but it should remain as it was for a few days.

We hoped.

The western wood thinned out as I got nearer Peldeep. The usual lush greenwood gave way to young evergreens and the occasional berry bush. Off in the distance, to the north, I could make out the Baldorin Mountains. The stark peaks that jutted to the sky were reminiscent of a ridgeback ice dragon I'd met when I was fourteen. I'd been leveling up in the Depths of Despair Dungeon, and I'd taken the opportunity to slip away while my escort knight Sir Havork was resting. We'd just cleared level six of ten, and I had my guard down. It wasn't often that I had the time to play by myself.

Then I'd fallen through a trapdoor.

It had taken an hour of fighting through unknown snowy territory to find my adventuring party and escort knight, all the while certain it was the end for me. Luckily, my kit was warm, and my training had paid off! I could handle most of the mobs with pure swordsmanship, and any trying foe with a [Force Thrust] or [Bludgeoning Cut] … until I'd come upon the dragon.

She had been beautiful and majestic and sentient as all of her kind, but overcome with dungeon madness, as all monsters who spawned inside a dungeon were. I didn't defeat her easily. I'd barely survived with a missing leg and all of my emergency potions gone. The only reason I was alive was because I'd gotten her at a disadvantage. I'd led her through a series of tight-fitting rock edifices and brought our battle below a deep cornice of ice and snow. The low curved peak had prevented her from flying out of my reach, and she had been too enraged to let me go.

What was really awesome for me was that the ridgeback had scales that bristled out like a cat's. That meant her scales were sharp and deadly, but less fortified than other members of dragonkind. In exchange for her claws ripping off half of my leg, I'd grabbed onto her belly scales and pulled one loose. My blade had sunk deep inside the exposed flesh, and the rest was history.

The worst part was the scolding I'd received.

Alright, and the leg wound—but I got better!

Hubert joined me from the air and signaled that he could see the exit just ahead. I didn't know why it bothered me, but the road to Gren's Keep and the road to Frolin were across from each other—an actual stone apart. They almost lined up … but for a hand length on either side. The dark forest was truly a dark place.

The almost-but-not-quite-a-crossroad made me antsy, so I didn't dillydally.

The path turned craggy, and it eventually met up with the river that ran downstream to Gerda's bridge. The Frolin outpost came into view, and I paused to look on in appreciation.

Before me was a giant door intricately carved with runes and set into the mountainside, with shops bordering it in a perfect symmetrical half-moon. The buildings were of varying sizes; from three-story stone shops to short and wooden tavernesque cabins.

It was midafternoon, the sun was hot, and foot traffic had moved inside. After confirming the eggs were still in one piece, I sauntered into town with the crate in my arms and a raven on my shoulder.

"HALT!" a voice boomed from the rocks beside me. Suddenly, a dwarf rose up and towered overhead. He looked like your typical dwarf: stocky, short limbs on a large, burly frame, but he was more than twice my size.

Having only dealt with political dwarven ambassadors in a tea parlor, I'd heard of but never witnessed the famous dwarven skill [Control: Size].

"Greetings!" I swept into a polite bow, careful of my cargo. "I am Princess—"

"WHO GOES THERE?"

"I am—"

"AND WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS IN FROLIN?"

The dwarf probably couldn't hear me from up there. I waited until he'd finished and then repeated myself, louder.

"GREETINGS. I AM HERE TO SEE CHANCELLOR GRIMLY."

I took a breath to yell some more, and the dwarven outpost guard used that time to ask, "WHAT BUSINESS HAVE YOU WITH THE DWARVEN COUNCIL, HM?" He leaned down and eyed me with a frown. "YOU SURE YOU AREN'T HERE TO SHOP?"

"No—I mean, NO, I'M PRINCESS HENRIETTA, HERE ON A QUEST FOR KING KEITH—"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" The dwarf popped out of giant mode and stood before me on the path. "We were right worried you wouldn't make it in time!"

"Oh, how are things with the griffins?"

"Not good, actually." The guard shook his head sadly. "We had to rebuild two shops just last night! It would have been much worse without Madame Potts's Cast, I tell you what!"

"Sorry I'm late, then. May I know your name?"

"You can call me Nolin." The guard tugged on his long ruddy beard, twiddling the end. "I'm with Hermin's Gold Emporium." He pointed to the second shop on the left of the giant stone door. "We've just got in a collection of rare rose-gold quartz. I'll put in a good word for you, and maybe you can get a discount. You'll visit us, yes?"

I had every intention of window-shopping for a bit before heading out again. I knew I wasn't in a rush, but I felt in a rush … Still. Rose gold sounded pretty. And strangely enough, even Hubert was positively vibrating with excitement. "Alright."

"Excellent!"

"Nolin!" An aged dwarf ran out of one of the wooden buildings to the right of the stone door. "Is that her?"

Nolin nodded. "Aye, Grimly."

"Thank the bedrock, we're saved!"

At the same time, an ear-piercing screech resounded over the outpost.