Just as Kragar, the big, strong soldier, was about to touch the old dwarf with the sack of grain in his hand, a voice cut through the open air, louder than the growls of the Shaccares, the restless murmur of the crowd of dwarves and than the icy wind that cut across the roofs of the village houses.
"Nonsense, Valthorn!" The elderly dwarf Talfor, with a long gray beard, emerged from the crowd, his imposing blacksmith's bearing denoting his authority in the village. "Don't stain your hands with the blood of an old dwarf. We all have enough problems, we don't need any more disagreements."
Valthorn, momentarily taken aback by Talfor's boldness, turned his piercing gaze on him. He glared angrily at the dwarf miner. "Talfor, you dare defy my orders? This insolent dwarf deserves exemplary punishment!"
Talfor, without flinching, made his way through the crowd of dwarves and stood between the old dwarf and Kragar, then faced Valthorn with tired but determined eyes. "I am Talfor, the Elder of this village. I will not allow you to spill the blood of those I have watched be born, grow into respectable blacksmith dwarves. I believe there are other ways to resolve our differences, dark elf."
Valthorn gritted his teeth, his expression becoming darker. "You're playing with fire, Talfor." The dark elf turned to Kragar, ordering him to back off. "He won't be punished today, but if he refuses to fulfill his obligations, someone will have to pay their share. So who will it be?" He held up one hand, looking towards the other dwarves.
Talfor stared into Valthorn's eyes, his blue eyes penetrating the darkness of the dark elf's eyes. With a stern expression, he replied: "Very well, Valthorn. An additional sack of iron will be provided on my part. We believe in peace, even in dark times like these."
Valthorn gave him a suspicious look, but in the end accepted the proposal. "That's right, Talfor. You're lucky that you're more useful with your hands than without them. I hope your village learns to respect the rules next time. We won't tolerate insubordination."
Talfor agreed with a nod, and Valthorn's servants began to collect the sacks of grain, barrels of ale and other tributes while the dwarves watched helplessly.
Valthorn looked around with disdain. "Enough for one night, I suppose. This place needs improvement, though. You don't want to put us in a bad mood."
The innkeeper swallowed, nervous about the possibility of reprisals. Talfor, trying hard to remain calm, replied: "We'll do our best to improve, Valthorn. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go and deal with the Shaccares in the stables."
Valthorn nodded in agreement, and Talfor left the inn, leaving the dark elf and his subordinates to rest.
Alina, Jayaa, Kaizen and the others moved closer to the village, close enough that they no longer needed magic to see the dark elves' movements.
"We need a plan," Andrew said quietly. "They're well equipped and should be well trained."
Alina agreed. "That dwarf has managed to avoid a confrontation for now, and he seems to be the only one of his race that the dark elves can stand."
Jayaa looked at the dwarves who were still working hard to load their tool bags onto the wagons parked in the center of the village. "We have to act intelligently. If we rebel without a plan, we'll only cause more suffering. And if these poor guys get caught in the crossfire, I can't imagine how much blood there will be on our hands."
"But there won't be any crossfire if we work together. I have a plan, but we won't be able to fight together, at least not at first."