Wolf Meat and a Simple Rune

Snow in Coldridge Valley does not so much fall as it settles in and refuses to leave. The dwarves of Anvilmar have been saying that for as long as anyone can remember, which, among dwarves, is a competitive sport.

Rip arrived in that snow on the evening Forever opened with a two-handed axe, a stubborn jaw, and the particular expression of a dwarf who has already decided the weather is personally offensive. Sten Stoutarm was waiting at the mouth of the valley the way Sten always is, with a bargain dressed up as kindness: gloves against the frostbite, if Rip would bring him eight pieces of Tough Wolf Meat from the ragged young wolves that hunt the southwestern slopes.

Rip went. The wolves were not impressed. Neither was the first Rockjaw trogg that wandered too close. Somewhere between a ragged timber wolf and a broken fang in his pack, a pillar of gold light stood up out of the snow and left him a little harder to kill. Level two. Another rung. The axe felt the same. His arms did not.

Dwarven Outfitters paid out in gloves and the next set of errands. Coldridge Valley Mail Delivery. A New Threat from Balir Frosthammer, who has opinions about Rockjaw troggs and is not shy about sharing them. And a Simple Rune, pressed into Rip’s hand while the wolf meat was still warm.

The rune pointed him into Anvilmar, to Thran Khorman, who teaches dwarves how to be warriors and complains about the cold in the same breath. Thran had the usual briefing ready: gnomes in the city because their own home blew up, dwarves taking to the Light like humans, troggs underfoot, and a promise to teach Rip how to be a real dwarf whenever he came back asking. Battle Shout settled into his throat like a habit he had not earned yet.

Twenty-six minutes. Sixty-five copper earned, ten spent. Two quests finished, two still open, and a valley full of troggs that Balir expects him to thin before anyone calls him useful.

He logged out in Anvilmar with snow in his beard and a shout he has not yet had a proper fight to use.

The mail still needs delivering. The troggs have not gone anywhere. Coldridge Valley, the chronicler notes, is very patient with beginners. It is less patient with the ones who stay beginners.