Chapter 2 - Misbehavior

Emily walked alongside Violet through the streets of the city. She had to continuously hold onto Lunette, and the thought of tying her to a rope crossed her mind a few times. They had viewed the tree up close and were following one of the tree's extensive roots that ran around and through several buildings. The two were in the shopping district, as it was something Emily always enjoyed doing. Going from a poor, homeless girl, to a rich immortal vampire in just a few months. They browsed the stalls, but nothing interested the young vampire. She was used to shopping for magical items, but there were hardly any here in the dwarven city. After some time, they started walking back over towards the tower. As they walked, Violet spotted a small food stand. She quickly walked over and purchased a single loaf. Emily watched, and when Violet re-approached, she ripped it in half, giving Emily the bigger half of the bread.

"How do you eat with that thing on?" She asked, taking the bread and biting down into it. She looked up at Emily and then down at the bread before ripping a small bit off and sticking it into the slot of her mask.

"Why don't you just take it off?" Violet formed words above her head using more fog and mist, and Emily started asking the same question Lunette did back on Alnwick Island.

"So there's no way to take it off?" Emily tilted her head.

"Not to my knowledge." The words above Violet's head formed. "I would rather not take it off anyway."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Violet looked down.

"Come on, you can tell me!"

Violet kept her head down and said nothing. Emily rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Alright, let's just head back. See if they are done talking to the 'King'." Emily held her hands up and are quoted in a sarcastic tone.

"Why do you speak in such a strange tone towards the king?"

"I don't know. I guess I don't think someone who lives under the mountain can be a king. They live in castles above ground."

"Different cultures have different home's, Emily."

"So... how do we know this place even has a king, and not a steward or something?"

"Because he is a ruler of hundreds and thousands of dwarves."

Emily sighed and kept walking. It was hard to entertain herself when the dwarven city had little to interest her. Magic was commonly used, and the only thing she could technically do was sightsee. She had an idea in mind. There was something that she was saving for when they all arrived in the city, now all she needed was some time alone. Violet led Emily back to the tower and over the silver bridge. Both the girls and Lunette walked into the descending room, and all three were surprised by it when it started moving.

"This place is so cool," Emily mumbled quietly before the doors opened. She looked out at all the food on the feasting hall table and smiled. She smelt the different kinds of meat and rich foods. Emily stepped out of the elevator and saw her allies talking with the king at the far end of the room. A mischievous grin ran across her face as she slowly started walking over to them. Violet kept a hand around Lunette's ankles to prevent her from flying away while eyeing the food on the table. Some of it was impossible to break up into small enough pieces, meaning she couldn't have it. When Emily got a little closer to the group, she stopped and yelled,

"SKITTLES!"

Alina froze for a moment and groaned as she covered her face with her hands, it's color-changing to a faint red. The other's looked back and saw Emily before turning their attention back to the king.

"How are you?" Emily asked Alina, skipping up behind her.

"I'm... fine... what did I tell you about that name?"

"To always call you by it?" She smiled.

"That's the exact opposite of what I said." She sighed. "We're almost done here. Just be quiet for a little bit. Please."

***

The guard led Dalton down a series of halls on the main floor until they reached the public archives. A large room filled to the brim with scrolls, and books alike. Several dwarven scholars walked around, organizing the shelves, adding new scrolls and taking out old ones. The room's shelves where all held up by chains dangling from the ceiling high above and each chain had a glowing crystal at the top to light up the room. The guard escorted Dalton to a row towards the back of the archives and instructed her where to find the information she sought. The girl thanked him and walked down the pathway. She began looking through the blueprints and design documents, looking for what she wanted, but sadly had no luck. After some time searching, she approached one of the scholars and bowed in greeting.

"Sir, I am looking for old design papers for... should be two or three styles of armor, some weapons, and shields?" She asked, "It's more... angelic." A word that Dalton was saying more often now. Over the trip to the city, Dalton spent a lot of it with Sargon, casting life links between the two. It has taken time, but she was remembering more and more of her past, though most of it was blurs. The more they saw, the more they believed Dalton to be an angel. Her changing appearance supported the theory, yet they could still not understand why she had so many problems remembering them.

The dwarf she spoke to was short and had a finely crafted beard. He wore normal ragged clothes and a dark blue cap of sorts most dwarves in the room appeared to be dressed in.

"Ah, angelic armor. A rare craft. I'm surprised an angel like you would come so far down for something so small." The dwarf examined her appearance the pure white wing's on her back, "Yes, the designs you're looking for are over here." The scholar pointed to a high shelf where an older set of scrolls visibly stood out. The material was older and had deteriorated over the centuries. Dust had formed, as they have not been touched for so long.

"Thank you. The designs belong to your kind, however, I appreciate you keeping them safe. I must ask, though. Have your smiths enough skill and metal to forge one final set of the commander's armor?"

"I don't see why they wouldn't. We simply require the basic trading materials, angelic steel for the armor."

"Are any of the smiths from last time those prints where used, alive still?" Dalton asked, looked back up at the prints.

"I'm sure one or two are still alive from battle. However, I don't believe they will be willing to smith so easily." The scholar replied.

"Perhaps when I speak with them, it might change their minds. Would you take me to them, perhaps?"

I know of one who lives down at the residential district. He's often kept in his home or watering his garden." The scholar replied before turning back to return to his studies.

"Uh, could you guide me there?" Dalton asked, "I'm not familiar with the area."

"I don't see why not, but I have work to attend to. If you meet me at the entrance of the district before sundown, I could most certainly show you." The scholar replied.

"Yes, I can't thank you enough." She said. Dalton flew up to the scrolls and grabbed them, before heading back to see her allies. She made it back to the throne room in time to see her group leaving. Before she followed, she took a moment to breathe in the smell emitted by the table of rich foods. She was tempted to take some but chose not to.

After an hour or so of searching, the group found an inn they could stay in. A rectangular stone building that served as one of the supports holding the cave ceiling up. The outside of it was built by large stone bricks, all of them smoothed out. There were several windows on each floor, and based on how high the windows went, the entire pillar could have been a housing unit. Once checked in, they walked up to the many flights of stairs till they got to the thirty-third floor of the building. Like previous times, Sargon chose to stay in a room alone, like Dalton, while Karaline, Violet, and Lunette stayed in one together, and the two vampires shared a room as well. The inside of each room had a wooden floor and a stone bed with soft wool bedding. A small chandelier was hung in the center of the room, and the crystal inside it lit up the whole room. The floor where high up enough for people to look out at the city from above.

Emily closed the windows to the room and threw her cloak off. It landed on the floor and she walked over it, before hopping onto the bed. The bed was hard, and the wool did nothing other than hide the cold rock the bed was made from. She frowned a bit and debated sleeping on the wooden floor.

"Emily, I need to go talk to Sargon for a moment, stay here," Alina said, leaving her in the room. Emily simply gave her a nod and waited for the door to close before jumping down to the other side of the bed, hiding from view of the doorway. She pulled out the golden key that hung from her belt. She grinned and swung it in front of her. As the key was swung, the tip of it began forming a portal, like Emily was using the key to rip the fabric of reality like paper. The one-sided hole was now open in front of her. Everyone on the team had one, and they used them to help carry anything that they couldn't. In Emily's case, money, and lot's of it. The portal led to a room which seemed like a small cubic room. In the far pile was a mountain of stacked gold coins, and jewels. Around it where various spell books, potion flasks, ingredients, brewing stands, folded clothes, and a large jug of blood. Something a vampire had to drink every day to stay energized. Emily reached into the portal, and the items inside shifted around, so that the item she wanted could fly over to her hand. It was impossible to climb into the portal, and all one had to do, was think of what they wanted and the portal would spit the item out.

The jug of blood shifted over, and behind it where two bottles of alcohol. Emily was technically too young to drink, but age hasn't stopped her from doing things before. She had stolen these two bottles from a bar, back on Alnwick island almost a month and a half ago. She had been waiting for a chance to try it, and now that she was in a room, alone, and in a big city, she had an opportunity. She grinned and pulled one of the bottles out. The portal closed the moment her hand left it. The two fangs in Emily's gum extended outwards, and she used them to bite down on the cork and yank it out. She sat there and looked down at the drink in her hand's. Emily had never drunk alcohol before and saw this as a brief opportunity to try it. Alina had told her during the walk that it was an addicting drink and bad for you, but she didn't really believe it. If it was so bad, why did so many people drink and sell it? Emily brought the bottle closer to her mouth and took a quick sip from it. She swallowed it and coughed as her throat began to burn. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she soon spits out what she could. After wiping her mouth, the aftertaste kicked in, and she frowned. Looking back at the bottle, she reached for it again and tried another sip. Again, her throat burned and the liquid tasted sour and bitter, but after a moment the taste changed to something more pleasant.

"This isn't so bad," Emily mumbled quietly as she tried another sip.

***

It was difficult to tell the time of day, with being in a cave and all. The only way to tell was by the several clock towers the dwarves had built. Using gears and machines, they had constructed these machines after measuring the length of each day and recording it. They then put together a system, and their invention was born. The hand on a clock would move every hour, and there were four pictures on each clock. One of a sunrise, sunset, midday sun, and a moon. This way it was easy for the residence to tell what the time of day was. Dalton had already started making her way to the residential district and soon spotted the scholar. She ran over to him, carrying the blueprints in her arms.

"Lead the way, Scholar." She said happily, bowing in greeting. The scholar chuckled and nodded, leading Dalton towards the residential homes. His ginger hair was much more braided and longer than his beard. Dalton followed after him, looking around and observing the area. She hated the maze-like structure of the underground city and desired to be back on the surface. Better yet, to be back home. The residential district had several tall towers, all connected by a winding bridge that ran through multiple floors of each building.

"Um, I would ask that you be patient with him. No one has asked him to smith anything for decades." The scholar said, stopping in front of a building towards the end of the district.

"Many thanks to you, Scholar. I won't take any more of your time."

The scholar nodded and knocked on the door. There was no response. After a brief pause, the scholar knocked on the door again, and this time the door opened. An old grumpy looking man walked out. His face wrinkled and aged with grey hair to complement his looks.

"Oh... you." He said with a grumble.

"H- Hello father..." The scholar replied.

"What the hell do you want?" He demanded.

"This, uh... my... colleague requires your assistance." He said, looking towards Dalton. She bowed on greeting.

"Hello there, smith. I come to make one request of you if you would do me the honor of taking it?"

"I don't work the forge no more. Especially not for your kind." He replied, glaring at her wings.

"I simply request you to forge one final suit of armor," Dalton said, pausing and frowning a bit.

"I said no. I don't work the forge. I'm retired, now leave me alone." He demanded and slammed the door shut. Dalton quickly put her foot in the doorway, the wooden door crushing her foot against the frame. She held in a whimper as a small cracking sound was heard.

"Look, I need your assistance. You know how difficult those plans are to follow."

"To an angel?" He frowned.

"Do you truly think one less skilled dwarves would be able to craft it with the precision that you could? And wouldn't you love for just one more time to work with such a fine, rare martial? To make something one of a kind?"

"No. I take no pride in crafting anything from the forge. And your angelic metals are something I want to never see or touch ever again." He stared at Dalton.

"And why is that? I',m sure near anyone else in this city would be honored to use something so rare."

"If you're so eager to get your Armour made, find someone else to make it." He kicked Dalton's foot out of the door frame and slammed it shut. Dalton was quick to knock on the door again.

"I'm not leaving, you know." She knocked harder but got no response. The scholar sighed and apologized to Dalton.

"I'm sorry miss... my father can be dense at times. I don't blame him though. He's been through a lot."

Dalton said nothing as she continuously knocked on the door. The scholar sighed and walked up to it, unlocking it with a spare house key. Dalton quickly opened the door, and sat in the door frame, not quite inside the house but in the way enough to prevent the door from closing.

"I'll talk to him." He said, walking past Dalton and into the house. For a few minutes, there was silence, and some inaudible talking. A little while later she could hear some physical violence that falls back into silence. Upon hearing this, Dalton decided to let herself in. She slowly moved through the home, following the violent sounds. The house was oddly structured. A staircase was directly next to the door, leading to the top floor, and beside it, a hallway leading to the living room and kitchen. The floor was made from oak wood, and the walls were carved from white stone. The material was odd and rare. Inside the living room, she could see the two dwarves, injured and panting. Dalton looked over and shook her head. The dwarves were intelligent, the best smiths or miners in the land, the best at metalworking and yet their people still act like barbarians at times. The smith stood up from the floor and sighed.

"Very well... my son has convinced me to forge your armor... be happy he came with you." He replied and walked past Dalton, and out the door. The scholar stood up soon after and brushed down his coat. Dalton thanked him and ran out after the smith with the blueprints in hand.

"If fighting you was all which was required, you could have simply said so."

"Sparring matches between different races are different from how we dwarves face one another. If I were to have simply fought you, I would have considered it an act of threatening me. However, it was my son who decided to oppose me. To dwarves, it is how we convince one another to do something." He growled, his voice deep and booming.

"Fair enough." Dalton nodded, ever so slightly intrigued by their violent nature, "Now would you mind telling me why you are so opposed to working with me on this?"

"Don't you think you've peered far enough into my private life?" He frowned, looking at her.

"No, in fact. I feel that this is very relevant to me."

The dwarven smith sighed and frowned, as the two left the residential district and began walking to where the city's biggest forges where.

"I once worked the forge for the angels. Crafted the finest armor and the sharpest of weapons for them. During one of many wars, I hoped they would repay by assisting in our fight, but instead, the did not come. My... wife... perished because of this false hope."

Dalton nodded and frowned a bit.

"I... I'm sorry. You realize most of us are dead now, correct? From what little I recall, the angelic military was mostly wiped out... I think I was there."

"Yes, I figured that out." He grumbled. They soon arrived at the forge. A large platform, chained and placed above a pool of lava. The forge was extremely hot. It was filled with rocky platforms chained and lifted above the lava pool, by steel chains. There were multiple other dwarven structures like this one throughout the city, but the one they were at was the biggest and most known. The sounds of hammers clashing with steel and anvils almost sounded like music, as each dwarf swung down, creating to their own beat.

The old dwarf grabbed an apron off the steel racks towards the entrance and turned to face Dalton.

"I assume you know the basic trade?"

"No, not really," Dalton replied, placing the blueprints down on a table and spreading them out.

"You offer the materials, I create the required design."

"I shall see to it, about finding the materials you require." Dalton nodded, "Where can I find them?"

"The storage hall. It contains old equipment and materials from long past."

"And where would that be?" Dalton asked. The dwarf gave Dalton the directions and a list of materials she would need to bring him. She gave him a nod and turned to leave. Her forehead beaded with sweat as she left the hot forge, and made her way to the storage hall, and began looking around for the material she needed. Holy steel. The storage room itself was a dark and dimly lit series of rooms. Steel rocks lined the walls and minerals, wood, coal, rocks, and other materials were scattered across them. None of the ores looked like the steel Dalton needed, however, a small flint of white and gold could be seen under a stack of shields. Dalton moved them aside and found what she needed. Their where about six bars worth of holy steel, material that she now released couldn't be anywhere near the two vampires of the group. She gulped and forgot about the thought as she began stacking them into a wheelbarrow and started making her way back to the forge. As she walked through, she started spotting broken blades and shields, each made from her required material. She added them to the wheelbarrow, turning around and running through the forge to gather as many shades of the material she could find.

The smith waited patiently and soon saw Dalton return with the wheelbarrow of material. She panted as the heavy metal had slowed her down, and the hot forge only made her sweat more.

"I guess this will all do." The dwarf frowned and began removing the scraps. He took off the gold, wood, and other materials not needed.

"My apologies. This was all I could. I trust there should be enough here to forge a full set of armor and a shield?"

"With the scarps, it'll be enough to craft a full set of armor, but a shield will be a challenge. I may be able to craft a smaller than standard shield with extra material from the armorer. Go back into the storage and search for more scraps if you can. I will work on the armor."

Dalton nodded and ran back to the storage room, looking for absolutely anything made of the rare metal. Despite being named holy steel, it wasn't an alloy. Holy steel was simply a nickname for it, it's a true name being platinum. Not just normal platinum though. Dalton remembered a once-secret place from her memories. Its location is lost in time now, but it was once the source of platinum. The angels enchanted them, which dubbed them the nickname. The steel was rare now, but still powerful and effective, and very expensive. Dalton put more materials into the wheelbarrow. She had gone deeper into storage and was now digging deep under broken shields, swords, and axes. After some time searching, she gave up looking for them and returned with the remaining pieces she was able to find.

"No luck? Hmm. How do you fair with a dagger instead?" The dwarf asked.

"A dagger should suffice as a secondary weapon, should I particularly need to kill something with holy steel."

The dwarf nodded.

"Then it's settled. I can have the armor and dagger ready by dawn." He looked down at the blueprints and instructions on how to make the armor.

"Need you any assistance with the forge?" Dalton asked.

"No, you've done quite enough thank you. You should do to the tavern. They sell wonderful refreshments there."

"Thank you, smith... what is your name?"

"Andre." He replied.

"My name is Dal-... Lux... call me Lux."

"The pleasure is all mine, Lux." He grumbled, removing his coal-dusted glove and shook her hand with a firm grip. Dalton nodded and smiled.

"I will return at dawn, with your payment then, Andre."

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