Chương 110: Chapter 107 - Backstory, Stromni

Across from him, Stromni let out a breath that might have been a sigh if he had allowed it to be one, then reached for his tankard, turning it a fraction against the wood without lifting it. The motion was small, not quite idle, not quite purposeful.

"Well," he said after a moment, his voice carrying none of the weight it might have deserved.

"That's a hard tale ta follow, that is." Alric's mouth twitched slightly, though he did not look up.

"Promises are promises."

"Aye," Stromni said, nodding once to himself.

"Still though, where ta begin." He shifted in his seat, one shoulder rolling as though settling into a position that would allow him to remain there longer than he had intended. His fingers brushed briefly against his beard, not adjusting anything, just confirming it was still there, then dropped back to the table.

"It's not much, mind," he added.

"Not like yours." Alric made a small gesture with his hand, something between dismissal and encouragement, without committing to either. Stromni watched that for a second, then gave a short nod, as though the decision had been made somewhere else and he was simply acknowledging it.

"I'm a red beard, ya know that though." he said rubbing his beard. Stromni huffed a quiet breath through his nose. Stromni glanced over noting no reaction from Alric.

"Aye," he said.

"Figured that wouldn't mean much ta ya." He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table now, his hands coming together loosely before separating again.

"To dwarves, though," he continued, "means a fair bit." Alric tilted his head a fraction, waiting. Stromni's gaze drifted to the side, not focusing on anything in particular, then back again.

"By law," he said, the words arriving evenly, as though he had said them before and did not see a reason to change them now, "red beards aint dwarves." Stromni did not pause long enough for interruption.

"Can't sit on councils," he went on, counting it off without looking at his hands.

"Can't decide on anythin that matters. Can't inherit land. Can't buy mining rights. Can't carry weapons." He shrugged slightly.

"Couple other bits, but them's the ones that stick." He reached for his tankard then, lifting it this time, taking a small drink before setting it back down in almost the same place. Alric watched him for a moment longer than necessary.

"That…" he began, then stopped, as though the sentence had not found a way to exist yet. He tried again.

"That's not… how does that work, you're a dwarf?" Alric said gesturing to the bearded personification of grumpiness opposite him. Stromni's mouth pulled slightly to one side.

"Aye," he said.

"That's about the usual response." Alric leaned forward now, one hand coming up to rest against the table more firmly.

"Why though? Did you flirt with an elf or something?" he asked. Stromni let out a long chuckle.

"Never met one, might try now that ya said that." He looked down at the table, at the marks in the wood, the smile finally faded before he continued.

"Long time back," he said, his thumb tracing along the edge of a line in the table, "my lot started a war." Alric's brow furrowed.

"A civil one," Stromni added.

"Dwarves against dwarves." He gave a small shrug.

"We lost." He explained casually "Were a bloody thing we told." Alric opened his mouth, then closed it again, waiting.

"Badly, mind you." Stromni continued after a moment, as though that needed to be included for accuracy rather than effect.

"Bad enough that no one's too keen ta remember it proper." He leaned back slightly, one hand coming up again to his beard, fingers catching briefly on one of the rings before moving on. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"Records got cleaned," he said.

"Names taken out. Lands… swallowed up, mostly. Or split so many ways no one knows what they were before." He glanced up then, meeting Alric's gaze briefly.

"Ask three dwarves what happened, you'll get four answers. None of 'em useful." Alric exhaled slowly, leaning back again.

"And that leads to… this?" he asked, gesturing vaguely toward Stromni. Stromni followed the motion, then shook his head once.

"Aye. More or less." Alric frowned slightly.

"That still doesn't explain why you're here," he said. Stromni's hand stilled in his beard. For a moment, he did not move. Then, slowly, he hooked a finger under one the ring and pulled it forward. Alric had wondered about the ring many times, it was a thick steel band, broken and bent to never meet. He held it there for a second, not presenting it so much as allowing it to be seen.

"Exile," he said. The word landed quietly. Alric leaned forward again, his gaze narrowing slightly as he looked at it.

"What did you do?" Stromni let the ring fall back into place.

"Got into a fight," he said he gave a shrug. There was a faint shift at the corner of his mouth, something that might have been amusement if it had been allowed to grow.

"In a tavern," he added, as though that clarified anything. Alric's mouth twitched slightly.

"Of course, best place for a fight you said once I think." he said.

"Aye," Stromni agreed.

"Was there with me brother. Don't remember all of it." He shrugged again, though this one carried a little more weight than the last.

"People were talkin," he said.

"They tend ta. Red beards, we get that sort of thing. Sure ya can see it, we weren't allowed ta carry weapons so…" He glanced down briefly, then back up.

"I were younger," he said.

"Didn't see the point in lettin it go. Didn't mind em aving a go at me, but not me brother." Alric nodded slightly, already understanding where this was heading.

"I hit someone," Stromni finished Then, almost as an afterthought, "Turned out he was a lord." Alric let out a short breath that might have been a laugh if it had gone further.

"A noble?" he asked.

"Aye." That sat between them for a moment.

"And that was enough?" Alric asked. Stromni tilted his head slightly.

"For me?" he said.

"Aye. Got off lightly I reckon." He reached for his tankard again, taking another drink, longer this time.

"Didn't take long after that," he continued, setting it down.

"Ring gets broken. You're out. No arguing it." Alric frowned slightly.

"No trial?"

"Maybe," Stromni said.

"If there was, I wasn't part of it." He leaned back again, his gaze drifting toward the fire now.

"Next thing I knew, I was on the road. Me mum had packed me tools, tools are important ta red beards." Stromni let out a deep breath, his fingers found the ring within his beard.

"Headed to human lands," he added. Alric followed that, nodding slowly.

"Why here?" he asked. Stromni gave a small, dismissive wave of his hand.

"Less rules," he said.

"Or at least different ones. Figured it were better than some dippy halflings and I weren't goin ta the elves." He shifted slightly in his seat.

"People don't care what you are so much," he added.

"Long as ya useful." Alric's gaze lingered on him for a moment, then dropped back to the table.

"That part checks out," Alric said. Stromni huffed a quiet laugh.

"Aye," he said. There was a brief stretch of silence then, not uncomfortable, just present. Alric broke it.

"What about before?" he asked.

"Back home." Stromni's expression shifted slightly, not closing off, but turning inward just enough to suggest the answer would take a moment to arrive.

"Worked a forge," he said eventually.

"Me da's." He nodded once to himself.

"Me and me brothers. Tools mostly. Couldn't pass land, so…" He lifted one hand, letting it fall again.

"Passed down what we could." Alric's brow lifted slightly.

"Tools," he repeated.

"Aye," Stromni said.

"You learn ta make do with what you've got." He glanced around the room briefly, as though taking in the things within reach.

"Why I'm good with this sort of thing," he added, tapping the table lightly.

"Repurposin, fixin, makin somethin outta what ain't meant for it. When I got ere, I could make what I wanted. Were nice at first, then, were making the same things for new faces." Alric nodded slowly.

"That explains a lot," he said. Stromni grinned faintly.

"Aye," he said.

"Ore here's rubbish though." Alric snorted softly. They let that sit for a moment, the conversation easing slightly under the weight of something more familiar. Then Stromni's gaze shifted back to him.

"Does it bother ya?" he asked. Alric looked up, his expression tightening slightly, not in discomfort, but in consideration.

"The red beard thing," Stromni clarified. Alric leaned back, exhaling slowly.

"I don't…" he began, then stopped, adjusting the thought as it formed.

"I don't really understand it. Which makes it easy for me to say I don't really care. It bothers you more which is what matters." He glanced at Stromni, then away again.

"I've never met another dwarf," he said.

"Not properly." He gave a small shrug.

"You're the only one I know." Stromni watched him, waiting. Alric's mouth twitched slightly.

"And you're my best mate," he added. The words arrived more directly than he had intended. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Stromni coughed. Alric did the same. Both looked away in unison.

"Aye," Stromni said after a moment, clearing his throat.

"Well." He shifted in his seat, picking up his tankard again without drinking from it.

"It might matter," he said, his tone more measured now.

"Later on." Alric glanced back at him.

"How?" he asked. Stromni shrugged.

"Depends who's lookin," he said.

"And what they care about. If we makin whisky, we gonna be exportin eventually. Dracken hold will never turn whisky away." Alric considered that, then let out a small breath.

"We'll deal with it," he said. Stromni held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded once.

"Aye," he said.

"We will then." The fire shifted slightly, a log settling in on itself with a soft crack that did not carry far.

"Lad.. No.. Alric, might sound a bit strange but thank ya." Stromni said holding his tankard forward. Alric grinned, they bumped tankards and took a deep pull. Both put their tankards down. Around them, the room continued as it had before, the tankards remaining where they had been left, the air unchanged in any way that could be pointed to. There was a long silence, more companionable than awkward. Neither spoke again for a while, when the conversation started again, it carried on till late.