Krifi guided Zillan to her home, one of many carved into the very walls of the stone surrounding them, and began to take stock of what she needed for him. A new bed, some clothing, and something to do while they waited were the first things she thought of. Food was delivered by the week’s worth tomorrow anyway, and most often you would be given enough for your family to survive on and then some extra due to the bountiful crops and hunts. Though the creatures hunted often were excessively large when compared to her gnomish kin, they rarely stood a chance.
“What do you surface dwellers do in your time of relaxation?” Krifi asked as she began digging through the clothing left behind by her late father.
“Well… normally we make music or speak with one another. Though, after the humans invented this thing called ‘plays’ we would sometimes watch those. On the rare occasion we would have a chance to read stories.” Zillan replied, his face looking bewildered by the way her house had been built.
Krifi turned to stare at him in bemusement, “What is a ‘play?’ Is it like children’s games?”
“No, no!” Zillan exclaimed, “Plays are an amazing way to pass the time. You see one being writes a story, and other beings pretend to be the characters from the story, and then they do the movements and speak the words of those characters in front of a gathering of people.”
It took a moment for Krifi to grasp the finer details of what Zillan had said.
“So… you mean to say, there’s a bard who creates works of fiction, and then people pretend to live this fiction to the end of the bard’s tale?”
Zillan nodded enthusiastically. Krifi seemed more confused than before, but she had an idea as to what to do to keep the surface dwelling gnome out of trouble for some time.
“Put these on and meet me outside. I want to bring you to someone who will want to hear much of these… plays… of which you speak.” Krifi said, passing Zillan a whole change of clothing.
Minutes later Zillan exited Krifi’s dwelling and they set off across the great stone city. Darting between districts and dodging crowds, Krifi led Zillan to a small home in the corner of the city. Knocking upon the wall, Krifi turned to Zillan.
“Do not speak until I tell you, and don’t tell him anything unnecessary.”
Zillan just smiled and nodded.
The doorway suddenly lightened and a squat dwarf stepped out into the open. Zillan had encountered many a deep dwarf in his escape from the other underdwellers, but this was the first surface dwarf he’d seen since his kidnapping. It was nice to see another pale-pink skinned person down here.
“Krifi, to what do I owe the pleasure?” the dwarf asked, his voice gruff and accented.
“Greetings, Breegan. I have a surface dweller here, it sounds like he might have something to talk with you about while he’s here. I know it has been some time since you last were on the surface, but do you remember humans at all?” Krifi started strong.
The dwarf rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Last I remember, those crazy creatures had just figured out how to string a lute. They also made this strange instrument from cows… you blew into it and moved it around to make a variety of noises.”
Krifi motioned for Zillan to step forward and silently urged him to speak.
“As much fun as those were, they’ve gotten crazier. They have created these things called ‘plays’ in which they take stories…” Zillan proceeded to retell Breegan all about plays, eventually telling him of the plays he had been to himself.
Krifi watched as the two strange surface creatures bonded, the instant friendship stemming from a love of art was fascinating to her. Here in the Pitchdeep, you didn’t often have friends outside your own race… for safety reasons. Even with friendships inside one’s own race, you were always a bit on edge. But these two persons of different races from the surface lands were so at ease with one another that Krifi was intrigued and baffled.
“May I ask a question?” Krifi piped up, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Zillan and Breegan turned and nodded, a look shared on their faces telling her that they’d all but forgotten her.
“How… how can you two be so comfortable together, even though you never met the other before?” Krifi voiced her concern.
Zillan tilted his head and looked over at Breegan, who blinked a moment before rubbing his beard thoughtfully.
“Well, lass, I think it’s part of what makes the surface different from the Pitchdeep. On the surface, there’s races you avoid, sure. But most of the other races are fairly tolerant of one another, unless you come from a race known for distrust. You wouldn’t find the dark elves or deep dwarves on the surface readily accepted, but you won’t find them alienated by everyone if they make their peaceful intentions known. Most surface races share their knowledge with one another… mostly in exchange for coin or alliances.”
Krifi mulled this over, the races above were open and ready to form alliances with one another… that could never happen in the Pitchdeep. One race would inevitably betray and kill another.
“I think part of what brings the upper races together is a shared passion. A love of life, or art, or maybe just a love of the idea.” Zillan said, his face screwed up in thought. His words seemed to confuse him as much as they did her.
“I think I’ll have to take some time to understand this.” Krifi said, excusing herself from the conversation.
Zillan and Breegan continued their talks well into the halflight. Krifi spent her time gazing on the central tower that kept time for those in the city, the orb of light travelling downward told her all she needed to know it was time to go home. But even the light couldn’t shake her of her confusion and the slight budding desire she had to experience the surface world’s curiosities first hand.
“Krifi. Hey, Krifi!” Zillan called, trying to get her attention.
Snapping back to reality, Krifi turned around. “Yes, Zillan. What can I help you with?”
“I was wondering, should we be headed back to your home? I know it didn’t seem like I was under arrest or anything, but I don’t want to mess up your standing with the others down here.” Zillan said, walking toward her.
Krifi thought for a moment before answering, “We may as well make our way back. It’s going to be the dark time soon enough.”
“The dark time?” Zillan asked.
“Right, you surface dwellers wouldn’t know. OK, you see that column with the light orb inside?” Krifi asked, pointing her finger toward the great rock in the center of the city.
“Yeah, it’s big, and the light has been moving. Is that a clock?” Zillan asked.
Krifi cocked her head, “I guess you could say that. We have a council of mages cast a renewing spell each day and night. The orb rises during the night in a calming blue, and then begins the descent in a bright orange light. We use it to approximate the sunlight above. Or so we’re told when we are young.”
“So it’s a giant sun dial. Ok, that makes sense. Do you have names for the times?” Zillan prodded.
“But of course. I’ll teach you them when we get back to my home. In exchange, you tell me more about the surface world.” Krifi said before starting to walk back the direction they had come.
Character Sheet:
Breegan Hornbottom
Traits: Though very charismatic, he isn't the wisest dwarf. He seems greatly intelligent, but doesn't share the strength his kind is known for.
Class: Bard
Skin: faded pinkish-red
Eyes: Muddy Brown
Hair: Gold
Equipment:
230 Gold
Bongos x1
Fancy Clothes x3
Daggers x2
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