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Chapter 23: Waking up again looking for my friend!

Ymir's tear the dwarven capital I had dreams. Dreams of battles and dreams of wars. Often I slipped too deep into the dream world and had visions I cannot recall. Sometimes it felt almost real but the gods of Agon were off on holiday it seems. There were spirits talking about wipes, squeezers and cleaning tools. The whole world seemed to go through a good spring cleaning spree, only that it was mid-summer so a lot people were worried. There were some claiming that the world as we know it was on the verge of a disaster, and others praised the gods and welcomed this change with open arms. As often happens with large nations, a good portion of the population did not take any sides and remained passive about this issue of gigantic proportions. I was sceptical and preferred my world as filthy as it was. The idea that someday I would lose my precious belongings, no matter how little it may be, did not go too well with me. I could not worry much however because I was still dreaming and I could do nothing to influence the gods' decisions.

This was about to change soon, as slowly I regained my senses and opened my eyes. None of my old family members could be seen. I found myself back in the dwarflands where I went to hibernation so long ago, or so it seemed to my little mind. I felt the cold breeze caressing my weathered beard. During this time I had grown quite a beard indeed. It was itching me so it was time for a shave, a good shave at the dwarven city of Maghnir. It took me some time to fetch a good skinning knife to use as a shaving blade. I grabbed a mortar and pestle, and made my favourite shaving paste mixing two baneberries and one archangelica with a sip of frosty mountain water. While I was at it, I talked to the local barber who agreed to give me a stylish haircut for just 10 gold pieces. I had to supply the stool as well because the dwarven barber happened to be shorter than the average dwarf and he couldn't reach the top of my head, even with me sitting on the floor!

riding in the dwarflands Shaved, well trimmed and smelling as good as a spring deer, I put on my finest clothes and my wisdom ring to match my silver necklace for the occasion. The dwarves living around Maghnir were all busy hurrying around mining, cutting wood and preparing the forge tools for the next weapon. Still I felt lonely as my family members were nowhere to be found. Who knows what happened to them? Maybe they moved to a different place, or the eternal dream caught them by surprise. Who knows what happened, after such a long time? I doubt they would recognise me.

As lighting strikes a name popped in my head and it resounded like thunder. Looroll, my best friend from before could still be around. Surely he must remember about me after all that we have gone through together. I had still a lot of stuff he gave me locked up safely in my closet. I had to find him, soon. I did not want to live the life of a lonely hermit, lost in the freezing highlands surrounded by halflings with bulky beards. Even just the idea gave me shivers.

Trying hard, and even harder, I searched with my mind to far away lands. Lands that I know Looroll might still live in. Lands that we rode through together long time ago while we were going about our adventures. Lands of Minotaurs, shadow knights and large cities close to the center of Agon, the most dangerous place in our world. Hours turned into days but there was no sign of my friend. Maybe it was me I thought, maybe my mind was not strong enough to reach far away places so a decision had to be made. I had to ride south and leave the security of the highlands once and for all. I knew all too well that there was no turning back but I had already prepared my travelling gear, and nailed the horse. Everything was ready, and by sunrise of the third day I set off facing south and not looking back. The mountains soon turned into highlands which turned into lowlands and into thick forests and great plains.

Before I realised, I was riding in the area of Xirdak, and the land was turning into a picturesque autumn haze which I knew too well. They were the wolflands where my friend was born. Over the horizon I could make up a towering city which I had seen a lot before. The city is adorned with tall towers and wooden walls. The city that every wolfman call his mekka; Red Moon the mahrim capital city.

traveling to xirdak

Next Chapter 24: Seeking my new family.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36