"Any improvement?"

Harbek -- an Outer Wall Warden -- had seen his father and their clan chieftain, Darrak of the Hardstone family, approaching his duty post in the early-evening gloom.

"None, I'm sad to report," Darrak replied, with a curt shake of his head.

With a deep sigh, Harbek continued. "Let me see if I have this aright. Thus far, the only ones who are afflicted were miners down in the deep shaft of Mine Number Three. No one else thus far?"

"Nay, thank the Allfather. As you know, whate'er this is, it seems to be some sort of energy-draining malaise. The afflicted miners lie abed, sleeping away most of the day, with scarcely enough energy to eat . . . very un-Dwar-like. But none have perished -- yet."

"And the healing magicks of the clerics and priests cannot make any headway against this affliction?"

Darrak shook his head. "Nay, and that is one of the things that gives me the greatest concern. Given time, mayhap our Elders will figure something out, but as you know we have only been aware of this miasma since the deep-delving commenced in Mine Number Three -- less than a week ago."

Harbek puffed out his cheeks and exhaled. ~If there is nothing new to report, why is Father speaking to me about this whilst I am on duty?~ he wondered silently to himself.

As if the clan chieftain had read his mind, Darrak said "I am sending you out of the Hold, out amongst the vorkenn*, tasked with the duty of learning whate'er you can about this affliction. Mayhap some of the other races have some knowledge of it, and how to deal with it. I would even treat with the damned prissy Elves if they had the knowledge, although I shudder to think what they would require by way of recompense."

Harbek stared at his father. "Me? Leave Westhold?"

Darrak nodded. "I do not lightly ask this of you, Harbek. But I fear that we have yet to see the worst of this affliction, and we need to try and contain it before it affects any of the other Holds -- or, gods forbid, the king's Hall."

"I have sent messengers out to the other holds and to the king, advising them of what we know -- very little at this point -- and have inquired as to whether any of our other people have had any similar experiences. The messengers were sent out only yesterday, and they have not had time to return. But you should not wait -- you should be on your way as soon as you can."

"Plus, this will be a good opportunity to mingle with people of other races and learn their ways. Some among the Stout Folk believe that we should try and insulate ourselves from the other races, and mingle with them only in places like Dwarfmoot. As you know, I feel strongly to the contrary -- that we Dwar need to become more outgoing with respect to our relations with good-aligned vorkenn. Although," he added with a chuckle, "I may need something to calm my emotions when it comes to dealing with the Elves."

Harbek thumped his chest in a Dwarven warrior's salute, and nodded his head. "I understand, Father. I'll gather my gear and be off within the hour."

*Non-Dwarven peoples.

---

Nearly all Dwarves revere tradition, and traditionally the members of Harbek's family (Hardstone, of the Stoneshaft Clan) have served as warriors in various Holds situated in the Worldtop Mountains.

Until leaving to start adventuring, Harbek lived in Westhold, a Hold in the foothills that guards the approaches to Krak Ik'var, where the High King resides. Harbek's father is the chieftain in Westhold, and he himself had risen to the rank of Warden of the Outer Walls.

As befitting his warrior's blood-lines, Harbek is slightly taller and heavier than most of his people. He is still in his youth, not yet having reached 50 years of age.

When equipped for battle, he wears chain mail and carries a shield. He is armed with a warhammer, some javelins (one of which, butt-end down, he uses for a walking-staff when marching) and a light crossbow.