The bustling city streets hummed with a thousand overlapping sounds: the creak of cartwheels, the hawkers' cries echoing off timbered buildings, and the rhythmic thud of countless boots on cobblestones.
Amidst the swirling tide of merchants, weary laborers, and gossiping adventurers, a small figure and a stocky dwarf navigated the crowd, their shoulders occasionally brushing against rough tunics and worn cloaks.
This unlikely duo, a young boy and a seasoned dwarf, wove through the human currents with practiced ease, their destination an inn nestled amidst the lively chaos. As they arrived, the familiar scent of ale and roasted meats wafted from within. Without delay, they bypassed the common room's loud laughter and the clinking of mugs, heading straight for Dwalin the dwarf's rented room on the upper floor.
Dwalin produced a heavy iron key as the lock groan in protest as he turned it. The door creaked open, revealing a sparsely furnished room, clean but unremarkable. "Alright, kid, come in," Dwalin grunted, gesturing with a thick hand. "Unpack your materials on the floor so we can get to our trade."
Before fully entering, the dwarf paused, his keen eyes scanning the shadowy hallway, a flicker of suspicion in their depths. He checked left, then right, his gaze lingering for a moment on a closed door down the corridor before finally pulling his door shut with a soft click.
Silak, on the other hand, was already busy. He'd found a surprisingly spacious corner near the window, carefully spreading out the bundles of raw materials he'd brought. The floor, though a little dusty, was quickly becoming a canvas for his peculiar wares.
"There you go, Mister Dwalin," Silak announced, stepping back from his organized piles. A hesitant pause followed, the question that had gnawed at him throughout their journey finally breaking through his youthful composure. "Do you think this will be enough for me to get three stalks of Fire Spirit Herbs?"
Dwalin's bushy eyebrows rose, and a faint twitch played at the corner of his lips. He turned from securing the door, his gaze softening slightly as it settled on the boy. "Before I answer that," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I don't think I've asked about your name yet. What's your name, lad?"
Silak straightened his posture, his small shoulders squaring. He recited the formal introduction his tribe held sacred, his voice clear and earnest despite his young age. "My name is Silak, son of Rajah Bayani and Dayang Iskra. Youngest prince of Tala ng Gubat tribe."
Dwalin's sturdy frame stiffened, another shock rippling through him at the boy's full introduction. His jaw went slack, eyes widening to saucers. 'So, you're telling me,' he finally managed, the words catching in his throat, 'that the kid in front of me is actually the son of Rajah Bayani?!' A bead of sweat pricked at his brow. He swallowed hard, a sudden wave of gratitude washing over him. Thank the ancestors he hadn't let his initial greed blind him into any foolish trickery.
"You should've introduced yourself sooner, you know," Dwalin chuckled, a touch of nervous relief in the sound. "Or rather, I should've asked you sooner instead." He ran a hand through his thick, fiery beard, a silent prayer of thanks forming on his lips.
"My name is Dwalin Firebeard from Khaz'Zorak," he offered, a brief but firm introduction in return, marking the newfound respect in his tone.
"Going back to our trade," Dwalin continued, taking a seat on a stool, his eyes now holding a paternal warmth, "your clan and mine are good friends, a bond reaching back to our ancestors. That's why I brought you here, young Silak, because of these materials you possess."
He gestured to the organized piles. "I won't pry where you got these from, but your introduction... it tells me you didn't steal them from anyone."
"I definitely did not steal them from anyone!" Silak interjected, his protest quick and heartfelt, a flash of indignation in his eyes.
Dwalin nodded, understanding. "Good. Because, frankly, these materials are far too precious for all of it to be traded for just three stalks of Fire Spirit Herbs. And showing these in front of a lot of people, like in the street earlier, might bring you great harm. Well, it might bring me harm too if they found out I have such high-quality and expensive materials with me." He explained, his voice low and serious, emphasizing the inherent danger.
"Let me show you." Dwalin moved closer to the materials sprawling on the floor, his practiced hands reaching out.
He picked up a jagged, spiraling horn. "These horns here are from Verdant Fangboars. A sturdy, boar-like beast with moss-covered tusks that absorb spiritual energy. Its hide is thick, and its natural camouflage makes it ideal for stealth gear." He set it down, then picked up a swatch of shimmering dark fur.
"These hides, on the other hand, are from Duskrun Lynx. A sleek feline with fur that seems to bend light. Its bones are prized for crafting lightweight, agility-enhancing armor."
His fingers traced the delicate curvature of a translucent shell next. "These shells are from Wraith Mantis. A shadow-dwelling mantis with spectral limbs, capable of phasing through solid objects. Its exoskeleton is infused into ghost-path formations."
Dwalin continued, explaining the properties of a few more, while for others, he merely named the source, his voice carrying the weight of an expert. "I also see materials from Thornback Howler, Petrascale Monitor, Emberplume Strix, and Ironbark Stag."
Silak listened in silent awe as Dwalin delivered this concise yet profound introduction to each item. It has to be noted that these were the very same items piled up in a forgotten corner of their guardian beast's cave dwelling, treated with such casual disregard.
However, before he could formulate the torrent of questions swirling in his mind, Dwalin ended his explanation with a grave addendum.
"The names of the beasts I mentioned are not just your typical beasts, young Silak. They are demonic beasts! Those that live deep in the ancient forest. The known and reported species of these demonic beasts are at least at the Qi Condensation stage!"
Silak's breath hitched, the question poised on his tongue vanishing like mist. 'Qi Condensation Stage?!' The words echoed, cold and sharp, in his mind. He pictured the mountain of 'junk' back in the cave—bones, hides, horns, all casually discarded. 'And yet, to Senior Gahumdagat, they were merely... food. Their remains, junk?' A shiver traced its way down his spine. He couldn't even begin to fathom the true strength of their guardian beast, a creature that saw power stages as mere morsels.
Suddenly, a flood of new questions surged. Why would such an unbelievably powerful guardian be so committed to protecting their humble tribe? And why did it seem like no one, not even his own parents, knew exactly how strong Senior Gahumdagat truly was?
However, these ponderings were not of immediate importance. He was just a six-year-old kid in this bustling town managed by their tribe; his priority is getting his hands on those three stalks of Fire Spirit Herbs. More importantly, he needed to guard this secret, the immense value of these materials, with his life.
'I cannot put the tribe at risk again by accidentally letting this intel outside this room,' Silak resolved, a newfound maturity hardening his young features. 'Treasures only bring trouble if you don't have the strength to protect them.' He decided then and there to ensure Dwalin would keep this between the two of them.
"Mister Dwalin," Silak began, his voice surprisingly steady, "I am grateful for your honesty and your loyalty to both our clans' ancestors and the friendship they shared."
He continued, his gaze unwavering. "I now have a clear understanding of just how precious these materials are. So, I assume that a single one of these is more than enough for a lot of Fire Spirit Herbs, perhaps even a lifetime's supply." Silak understood that this newfound knowledge put him in a far stronger negotiating position. The Fire Spirit Herbs, once his greatest concern, now seemed the least of his worries.
"I have a business proposal for you, Mister Dwalin. Are you interested?" Silak's tone and expression had shifted, a subtle, almost imperceptible change that belied his tender age. The youthful innocence was replaced by a sharp, calculating glint.
Dwalin was initially shocked by the sudden transformation in the boy, a flicker of surprise crossing his grizzled face. He silently processed the situation, analyzing their current dynamic.
The kid clearly held the upper hand in this negotiation, having shrewdly highlighted the immense value of his own materials. Not that Dwalin had any greedy or selfish intentions of cheating him, of course. His honor, tied to his ancestors, wouldn't allow it.
"Alright, lad, I'm certainly interested to hear your proposal," Dwalin said, rising from his stool. "Why don't we move to the table to discuss it properly?" He led Silak to a small, worn wooden table in the corner of the room, accompanied by two sturdy, albeit plain, chairs.
After they both settled, Silak wasted no time. He leaned forward slightly, his small hands resting on the tabletop, and directly stated the contents of his proposition to the dwarf.
"Here's my proposal, Mister Dwalin. Please let me know what you think after I've listed them out," Silak began, his voice clear and confident, listing his terms with a surprising clarity.
"First, I want you to keep the source of these materials an absolute secret. In return, I will exclusively deal with you for these resources, which I believe will be extremely useful to you as a blacksmith, given their unique properties."
"Second, given the fact that I only have a need for Fire Spirit Herb right now, we can just set aside my earnings from this deal for now until I have something else in mind that I might need. Like you, I don't really have any immediate use for gold or money right now."
"In return," Silak concluded, his gaze firm, "I will give you these materials for a price lower than their current market value. How does that sound?"
He delivered his proposal with an astonishing lack of nervousness or anxiety. After all, knowing the true worth of these items, he truly had nothing to lose and the chance of failure is nigh impossible.