"Why not? Invite him to come over and warm himself up. There will always be enough broth!" Snorri smiled as he sat in front of the fire. He considered himself a polite corporal, at least when he was not busy.
Think about it, if he didn't meet that tribesman, he would just listen to the fellow compatriots around him chatting and bragging in this barren mountain, killing some time so that he could get into the tent and sleep.
Soon, an older dwarf in simple, even shabby clothing came to Snorri's side. He had a long, gray beard and wore a simple belt with a rope buckle. There was not a single decent accessory on his body.
"May the ancestral goddess be with you, Master Snorri!" The old dwarf bowed slightly.
"Please sit down, my compatriots!" Snorri understood why the ranger felt that he was not respectable. He had not accumulated enough wealth at this age, and it was generally a sign of incompetence among dwarves. But Snorri wouldn't kick him out even if he came, and there would still be a mouthful of hot soup.
"I am a traveler. I am looking for mineral veins in this area, and I can also make a small amount of money with my tools and wisdom. Do you need me to maintain your equipment for you? Or maybe I can offer some advice from experience?"
The old dwarf sat down next to Snorri. He pulled his backpack from his back and put it under his body. The thing looked very heavy, and the bulging thing inside seemed to be the guy from his work.
"Ha! Master Snorri and I are both rune blacksmiths! Where do we need your maintenance? Don't..." Before Snorri could answer, Stringer shouted first, and the young man got rid of the teacher and The oppression of the family inevitably leads to some letting go.
"For now, there is not much need. Let's eat first. Come over from Karak Norn and tell me about the situation there. I can give you some reward." Snorri declined politely. Advice on maintaining weapons.
The old dwarf talked about what he saw and heard while eating. "It's not that good, it's not that bad either!" the old dwarf said after drinking half a bowl of soup.
"This has to start with Arik of Karak-Horn. He sent out troops for revenge in the winter, when everything in the forest of Athel Loren was dying. Everything went well in the past few days, but he destroyed several pointed ears. Later, they collided with a large group of ungulates in the settlement area."
The old dwarf seemed to have a deep hatred for the elves in his words, but this was considered common among the elders.
"Beast men, those alien species that were mutated by chaos, they think of Arik together. I don't know whether he should be ashamed or proud of this."
"Then what? A three-way melee?" Snorri guided the old dwarf to reduce his complaints and return to the topic.
"Yes, melee. That's the base camp of Pointy Ears. There are as many beastmen as rats in a cave. Aric escaped in time, but he still paid a heavy price." As if he was mourning the death of his tribe, the old man The dwarf sighed and took a drag on his cigarette.
"What about now? Is the road to Desolate Castle still safe?" Snorri asked the question that he really cared about.
"Winter has passed and everything has revived. The Pointed Ears have once again received help from the forest spirits. They will soon be able to drive the beastmen out of Athel Loren."
"Old man, why do you say you don't have all these things? Just answer whatever Master Snorri asks you!"
Stringer interrupted the old dwarf. He was born into a noble family, and as a young and promising man, he spent a lot of effort to get away from the nagging of his parents and teachers. How could he bear to listen to the mumblings of a down-and-out stranger in this mountain col.
Gu "Don't be impatient, Mustache." The old dwarf was not frightened by Stringer. He said slowly: "In the past, no matter whether you were a humble or a noble dwarf, you could not help but have some time to study. "
"You..." The young rune blacksmith was worried.
"Ah, let him finish his sentence, or you can go sit over there!" Snorri stood up to smooth things over, and the people he invited in had to start well and end well.
"Huh, ho!" Stringer stood up and sat down on a different fire. Snorri motioned to the stranger to continue.
"I was safe when I came here, but that doesn't mean it will be safe for you when I come here!" The old dwarf puffed out smoke.
"Isn't this nonsense?" Snorri thought to himself. The tribesmen around him were not as good-tempered as him, so they began to mutter.
"I can give you some advice: A qualified leader must clearly discern the opinions of those around him. If they ask you to go west, you should go east; if they ask you to go north, you must go south; if they ask you to stop, , you should keep moving forward." The old dwarf said something like a riddle.
"What nonsense are you talking about, old fellow! Master Snorri is the chosen one by the ancestor goddess and the herald of Grimnir, the god of war! The ancestor gods guide his way forward, so there is no need for you to talk empty words here!"
Before Snorri could respond, Captain Glenson couldn't help it.
"I'm not saying these things for him, I'm saying them for you!" The old dwarf's tone was still neither salty nor cool. He whispered something into Snorri's ear, then picked up his package and stepped into the wind and snow.
"His warning is as unconvincing as his empty wallet." Bloxen muttered, looking at the old dwarf's retreating back. He is also a young man who doesn't like to be preached to.
Only Snorri was lost in thought as he looked at the retreating figure. What he just said to his ear was, "Those guys, the things in your heads may not be enough to cope with it!" This was almost Snorri's biggest mistake. 's secret.
With confusion that could only be buried in his heart, Snorri set off early the next morning. Along the way, the dwarves encountered some horned beasts. These guys are the basic component of the beastman war herd. Encountering them is not a good sign.
Horned beasts appear to be hybrids of beasts and humans. Their basic shape is a sheep's head and legs plus the upper body of a human. They are covered in fur and smelly. They wander around with crude weapons and strong bodies.
The combat effectiveness of these basic arms is equivalent to that of low-level arms of human forces, and they hardly caused much trouble to the dwarves despite their small number. Snorri successfully arrived at Karak-Gregor, a small settlement between Desolate Keep and Dauntless Keep.
It was built on a small iron mine, and Qianbahao people from several clans settled here. They told Snorri that there were traces of high-level beastmen such as big horned beasts and centaurs around.
This settlement was only more than a day away from Desolate Castle. Although there was the threat of beastmen, Snorri was forced to set off the next morning.
His team, including warriors, merchants and migrating tribesmen, already numbered more than 3,000, and Karak-Gregor simply could not accommodate so many people.
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