Laugavegur, A Hinterland Journey

Chapter 8 - Utdingers

The Dwarven holdfast of Ravendome sat high on the snow-covered plateau at the heart of the Everwhite Hills. Surrounded by frigid temperatures and tempest-force winds, the Dwarven founders of the bastion had crafted their domiciles within a protected network of caves and tunnels. Prior to Dwarven occupation, the plateau had been home to giant burrowing maggots, called lirfa, that made their homes within the rock and derived nutrients through devouring rocks and reindeer. The warmth produced by the fires deep within the plateau made the area that was now Ravendome very attractive to the lirfa and there they lived, ate, bred, and shat for untold millennia.

The first detachment of Dwarven speculators to seek refuge in the lirfa tunnels no doubt met a surprising and appalling demise, but as is the case with many invading peoples, the Dwarves found resources within the caves that justified an agenda of eradication against the original inhabitants. As such, Dwarven battle parties entered, cleared, and expanded the tunnels that made up modern-day Ravendome. Within the tunnels and passageways, the Dwarves at first, erected temporary and then later, more permanent shelters as the lirfa were forced deeper and deeper into the recesses of the plateau. The old lirfa passages, nesting areas, and feeding grounds still bore evidence of the terrible creatures in the form of heinous-looking gouges in the walls from the lirfa's mandibles, discarded body casings that littered the lesser-used tunnels, and the omnipresent threat of punching through a wall into an ancient brooding cell whilst mining. This last event resulted in the offending party becoming drenched with putrid liquefied maggot larva; a smell that could aggrieve even a Dwarf.

As Anja, Tokki, and Skari approached the black rock mound that marked the entrance to Ravendome and from which the site earned its name, they could see the soft, flickering light of sconces, indicating the way in. Besides the sconces, there was no other indication of welcome; no guards, no banners, no alley urchins attempting to fleece the newest arrivals of their generosity or in the absence of that, their coin purses. The entrance tunnel was sealed off by a giant wooden door with ornate metal hinges and wrought iron handles. A wooden sign was tacked to the door that simply read, Utdingers, Go Away.

"Utdingers?" asked Tokki

Anja shrugged.

"Well, I suppose we should knock..." Skari said doubtfully.

"I thought you had been here before," Tokki said.

"Yes," said Skari rubbing his chin. "Several years ago, but it appears much has changed in that time. When I last arrived, I was met by a most boisterous and hardly sober troop of Dwarves that had me plied with food and drink before I even entered the main chamber. This is an unsettling lack of welcome from the Dwarves and I like it not." Skari reached up, rapped his rowan staff against the stout wooden doors. The knock boomed like thunder in a cathedral; the sound resonating deep into the plateau, vibrating beneath their feet. Skari wiped his nose with his sleeve. "I imagine they heard that."

There was a long pause as they all listened for movement behind the door. After a moment, they could hear the slow, but steady sound of muffled footfalls; heavy boots on smooth stone. There was a clang and a creak, and a small window opened in the door, just large enough for a filthy female Dwarf to poke her head out.

"What is the meaning of this disruption?" the Dwarf asked. Her hair was matted with oil and grime, her face blackened with soot. Because the window was set at Dwarf height, Anja and Skari had to squat down to meet the Dwarf's eyes, bloodshot though they were.

"Good evening drola," Skari said, bowing his head respectfully.

The Dwarf seemed taken aback, looking to her left and right as though the comment was made from someone else. Realizing it was aimed at her, her face widened into a toothy, under-bitten grin. "A charmer!" She laughed like gravel shaken in a tin. "It has been years since I have been called a drola." She seemed lost in thought for a moment, perhaps reflecting on earlier times when she was beautiful and spry, and she took flattery for granted. Her face grew serious again. "And while I appreciate the compliment, it does not explain your presence here."