Parallel (A Virtual Gamer's Story) [Vol.1 - Vol.4 Complete]

Chapter 107: The World Reacts (1)

Somewhere in Daggerfall,

A legion of men and women stood upon a cliff. The group's leader stood at the cliff's edge, eyes fixed upon the hammer in the sky with a slightly feverish gaze. Upon closer inspection, these people, none surpassing five and a half feet, were the traditional dwarfs.

Dark brown eyes glaring through a curtain of long curly hair the color of night and an equally dark beard exuded a noble aura that made the followers behind to bow in reverence. For a dwarf, at merely sixty-seven, he could be considered to still be at the prime of his life. He wore a slightly showy, yet practical black heavy armor made from dark steel and emblazoned with the double hammer symbol of the Farvulian Noble House.

A black cape fluttered listlessly behind the man as he glared at the hammer in the sky, each thunderous bang echoing within the furthest reaches of his heart.

To the rest of the world, the hammer was either a miracle or a rare phenomenon. But, to this dwarf and his kind, this signaled an era-changing destiny. Clenching his armored fist tightly, the man cast an impatient glare at the chamberlain to his side. "Still no word?"

The chamberlain faced with this chilling glare did not dare to dither. "N-no my lord. The messenger should be ba—"

"My lord!" A slightly juvenile voice called as its owner made his way through the crowd. The chamberlain released a relieved sigh when he saw the young man that stepped forward. The juvenile did not dare to be negligent in his respects as he hurriedly fell to a knee in front of the armored man. "Lord Farvulia, I bring a report from the seer."

The man called Farvulia snorted as he ordered. "Speak!"

"As you command." The messenger did not delay as he reported, "The seer speaks of an emergency. He said to inform you to come to him immediately, or it might spell doom for our kind."

Farvulia knitted his brows. The seer of their tribe was a unique man with no name. Unlike other seers, he sought neither money, power, nor prestige. He was content to live in a small hut within the commoners and live off the little game the local children hunted for him.

So it was that whenever the seer had something to say, the Farvulia household always took it seriously as they knew he was not blowing hot air to gain popularity.

Farvulia turned to the chamberlain. "Instruct the guards to return to the manor. Send word to my father that I seek the seer's guidance." The seer hated the fanfare associated with the nobles, which was why, when visiting, members of the Farvulian household only went with a handful of guards at best.

"As you command."

Farvulia stomped down the hill till he reached the posts where their rides were tied up. Because of their builds, dwarfs naturally could not ride horses. Instead, they forcefully domesticated a set of barghest wolves, which stood just about a meter off the ground. Even though these beasts were small, their speed was among the best, and their teeth were astonishingly sharp.

Farvulia mounted his beast, and with a slight nudge, it took off down the countryside. As he raced across several small villages, he could not help but fall into a slight reminiscence. How long had it been since the dwarfs migrated from their homeland? Fifty, Sixty years? He was just about a little runt when the dwarfs made it to this land.

Without a king to guide them, the dwarfs, besieged on all sides by orca, scattered like the winds at a time when they should have stood together. Only the Farvulian Noble House and a few other households remained to fight off the orcs and protect the commoners who were weary from the travels.

Since then, the dwarfs, like scattered poppy seeds, took roots all around Daggerfall and tried to grow amongst the tenacious weeds called orcs.

Every dwarf since had to grow up living a life of kill-or-be-killed, especially as the orcs did not allow them to build any underground colonies. Whenever a tribe attempted this, the orcs would swarm the village like a floodtide, throwing bodies relentlessly until they either perished or stopped their actions.