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Chapter CVI – You shall see how diplomacy was made a reality.
🕑 Added 2024-09-29 13:11:15 +0000 UTC
76th of Summer 5859
Aroghlie (Zon’guldac), Union of Dwarves
Whitebeard took a deep breath. Salty seawater rushed into her nostrils, but she didn’t care about the burning sensation. It was home, or to be more exact, it was closer to home than the filthy beardless humans back in Casamonu were. In fact, far away in the distance, was Aroghlie in the form of a vague black blob. It was hard to believe, even for her, that a whole dwarven civilization existed beneath that mountain which looked so insignificant from so far. Beneath that insignificant mountain were walls and buildings that looked even more miniscule and lack-significance.
“…time to stop contemplating and walk forward.” thought Whitebeard out loud. I need a good dwarven beer after all this travel, she thought less loudly. The road in front of her was quite unusual for Gemeinplatz. It was dark, smooth gray tarmacadam, made from a combination of coal tar made as a byproduct of dwarven steelmaking and macadam (crushed stone and sand) made as a byproduct of dwarven mining. Unlike the countless Imperial Highways, the tarmac roads of the dwarves were standing strong despite the countless traders trampling on them. The lone dwarf was soon dwarfed by the thick walls of Aroghlie.
“Halt! Who goes there?” Whitebeard was stopped by an armed dwarf at the gate.
“It’s me, the Lord of Trade. I’m returning from a mission to Casamonu.” replied Whitebeard. She took out a small stone tablet out from her pocket. “I have the Union’s written approval, though, I’m pretty sure you don’t need any to let a fellow dwarf in. What’s with all the caution?”
“Haven’t you heard the news? The Council declared a state of emergency.” The guard took the stone tablet and took a quick glance at it. It had a bunch of text written on it about Whitebeard being authorized to act as an ambassador for the Union of Dwarves. “We have to check everyone to make sure that they aren’t an elven spy.”
“Elven spy? Excuse me, boy, do I look like an elf to you?!” roared Whitebeard. Her small stature seemed much grander when she shouted. So grand, in fact, that she sort of understood how she could be mistaken for an elf.
The guard gave the tablet back. “Who knows, maybe the elves bought you out.”
“Why would any of the elven chiefs send a spy anyways? We haven’t been at war for as long as I and my pa and grandpa remember. None of those tree huggers could break through these walls no matter how many spies they send.” Whitebeard kicked the wall of Aroghlie to make her point. She immediately regretted her decision as she cradled her foot in pain.
The guard scratched his head, which didn’t go well as he just ended up scratching the metal of his helmet. “You really haven’t heard?”
“I’ve been busy travelling all season! It’s been hard to make my way through Casamonu when they’re all paranoid about their slaves. I was interrogated, almost executed right at the start of my journey, and even then, all that was for naught when the lord of Casamonu died and I was stuck for a while waiting for the siege to end so I could get out.”
“…I- I see.” The guard nodded. “Thank you for your service.”
“Anyways, what’s happening with the elves?”
“I don’t really have the details. It’s best if you report to the people at the Supreme Council.”
Whitebeard involuntarily jumped up at the mention of the Supreme Council. “Right! I did go there to… uhm…” she scratched her white beard “…it’s been a whole season. I think it’s a bit late for me to update the Council on the happenings in Casamonu.” Still, she parted with the guard to make her way into the mountain itself. The outdoors of Aroghlie was busy as usual, with resident humans overshadowing her as she passed them by. She passed by a shanty town made out of fugitive slaves, and then through a bunch of trade houses and workshops, before she eventually made her way up to a grand granite archway denoting the entrance to the dwarven parts of Aroghlie. There were two dwarven guards flanking the gate as well. These ones didn’t bother with stopping a fellow dwarf, thankfully. Then came the damnable endless stairs leading into the bowels of the earth.
It took five minutes or so of walking down, which was not appreciated after she had travelled endlessly for so long, to reach the actual Aroghlie down under. Despite being under countless miles of earth, she had no difficulty seeing the environment. The endless furnaces of Aroghlie, fueled by the endless coal of the mountain, made sure that there wasn’t a dark spot in the city. Any human who went down here would find themselves dead from lung cancer in a week. Thankfully, dwarves had lungs as strong as their livers. Whitebeard threw a dime at the nearest beer-dealer she could find, and she soon had finished a pint. Then it was time to make her way to the Supreme Council, which was easy to access as it was built right in the middle of Aroghlie. It was a building, not build from stone bricks like many, but it had simply been carved into the wall. So was its interior, where the stools and grand table inside the Supreme Council were made from carved stone. There, on her seat as the Lord of Trade, was another dwarf that wasn’t her.
“You must be Whitebeard, right?” The dwarf on her seat stood up to salute Whitebeard. “Greetings, I’m the newly elected Lord of Trade, Lady Kyou’mür Barbarossa.” She and Whitebeard shook hands.
“Right, I did miss the elections, didn’t I? Glad to meet you, Lady Barbarossa.” Whitebeard breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn’t have to deal with the downfall of her failure. “I came a bit late, so I assume you’re already caught up?”
“Yes. A few human refugees arrived and told us about the Siege of Casamonu. I’d still welcome a dwarven account.” Barbarossa sat back down again, and so did Whitebeard.
“Well, it all started when fugitive slaves gathered outside the walls, I was staying at an inn after the count had rejected me. Then…” Whitebeard quickly related all she saw. “…when I was leaving, they were preparing for some sort of election. I didn’t have a chance to meet their leader however; the town was in way too much chaos for me to find a way to. I decided to leave Casamonu before things got tense and I couldn’t leave again.”
“I see.” Barbarossa took a sip from her mug of fine dwarven ale “Have you heard of the high elves?”
“I did hear something about elves, yes, right at the gate. The situation seems to be tense, though I have no idea why and how.” Whitebeard had filled herself up a mug from a keg in the council room.
“You see, while you were away, the Empire decided to strike back. The Imperials, they have given the title of ‘Marchioness of Zon’guldac’ to an elven chief named Tinatin Leafblower.”
“Tinatin who?”
Barbarossa shrugged. “We don’t really know either. She seems to be a minor chieftain, and there isn’t much about her in the archives. Whoever she is, she seems to be an ambitious one if she got such a grand title handed to her.”
“Whoever she is, I wouldn’t expect that from the human’s emperor. He’s always seemed like the young, unambitious type, just like his ancestors before him. You know these mortals, they’re always afraid of making a move lest their short life be cut even shorter. Why would he dare make such a bold move all of a sudden…” Whitebeard drunk the last drop in her cup. She stood up to get another pint.
“I wouldn’t be asking this if I knew, would I?” Barbarossa had finished her mug as well. “No matter what the background of this mess is, it’s obvious that the Imperials don’t have the best intentions in mind for Zon’guldac. We’ve already received elven refugees, and they tell us that Leafblower has been conducting an aggressive campaign of unifying the elven tribes. I don’t think it’ll take our dwarven ingenuity to tell where she’ll be heading to after she’s done with unifying the elves.”
“Zon’guldac, yes. I see now.” Whitebeard was pacing around the room, her unease clear.
“The metalheads have already gathered to prepare for a siege. Unfortunately, our situation is, in all honesty, quite dire. It seems that the previous Lords of Defense didn’t expect us to go to war anytime soon, though such matters of warfare aren’t my or your job.” Barbarossa took out an empty stone tablet from her pocket, along with a small, intricately decorated hammer and nail. “Our job is to find whoever we can to help us with the siege. I’ve already sent some ambassadors to our neighbors, though none of them have responded positively. Nothing from the Empire either. Their ambassadors have just told us to surrender to our so-called liege, and our neighbors seem to agree.”
“…have you sent anyone to the League?” asked Whitebeard.
Barbarossa raised her bushy dwarven eyebrow “The League? Do you mean the people that just sieged Casamonu?”
Whitebeard replied with a nod.
“You know, openly siding with fugitive slaves would mean burning all bridges with the Imperials.” said Barbarossa.
“I think the Imperials have already demolished those bridges, Lady Barbarossa.” Whitebeard struck her hammer on the table with anger “By the Deep Ones, the Imperials were already dissatisfied with Zon’guldac being a haven for refugees! If they’re so sure that we’re on the side of the slaves, then we should make their fears come true.”
“You may be right.” concluded Barbarossa “Do you believe that this League can be negotiated with? They are fugitives after all, we don’t know reliable they are.”
“I believe that the League, or the Federal Republic of Gemeinplatz as they call themselves now, should be kept close. I’ll only judge their reliability upon meeting their chief, but they can’t be worse than the Empire of Gemeinplatz. I’ll however say that they proved themselves to be excellent warriors during the Siege of Casamonu.”
“It is decided then.” Barbarossa began etching letters on the stone tablet she had earlier taken out. She handed the tablet over to Whitebeard “Since you are the one most familiar with the League, or Republic, you should be the one to negotiate with them.”
Whitebeard took the stone tablet, which contained new orders assigning her as an ambassador under command of Barbarossa. She honestly wasn’t too excited to travel again, but… “I’ll do what I can.”
“Since the situation is precarious, I’ll get a caravan together to escort you and carry some gifts to the Republic to help lubricate negotiations. Get some rest today, I think you really need it.”
“I agree. I need to lay on a proper dwarven bed for once.” Whitebeard and Barbarossa parted ways, with Whitebeard making sure to take another free pint from the council before leaving. Soon, she’d again be a bit too busy to enjoy dwarven ale.
