Back at The Bollocks, Og-Grim-Dog still had four people to interrogate. But one of them was missing.
‘Gurin’s off with his friends,’ said Sandon when Grim asked where the dwarf was. The wizard had just risen and still looked a little worse for wear.
Og raised a suspicious eyebrow at this news.
‘I’ll take you to him if you like,’ said the wizard. ‘I could do with a bit of fresh air and I’ve a mind to see what bargains I can find in the market with my new wealth.’
The idea of needing fresh air sounded pretty far-fetched to Grim, but he went along with it. Outside, the town of Mer Khazer was busy. Trading was reaching its mid-morning peak, as merchants, peasants and shoppers from the nearby villages and farms had arrived in town to sell their wares and spend their coins. It was vibrant and noisy, completely unlike the ogre’s cavern back home. Grim was surprised that he didn’t mind the bustling to and fro of town life as much. It was something you could get used to.
‘This way,’ said Sandon, navigating a path through the crowds.
Og gave Grim a meaningful stare. Now they had Sandon on his own, it was time to interrogate the wizard.
‘We were told to pass this on to you,’ said Og, producing the ring they had been given by the clerk at the Magical Items desk. ‘Ring of Curse Breaking, they said.’
‘Ah,’ said the wizard, taking the ring and studying it, before placing it on his finger. ‘That was all, was it?’
‘Yes,’ said Grim. He thought about what Mr Agassi had said about the falling incomes from dungeoneering. ‘We didn’t win so much loot, did we?’
‘More than most are making these days.’ Sandon looked about him before leaning in and talking more quietly. ‘But no, not nearly as much as we used to. Actually, Assata and I put in a complaint to the Bureau yesterday. Some of those dungeons should never have been open to adventurers. And that shop in Wight’s Hollow.’ He shook his head. ‘Not sure how much longer things can go on like this.’
They stopped outside a tavern called The Squished Plums.
‘This is where Gurin meets the other dwarves,’ Sandon said.
‘The other dwarves?’
‘Yes. There are several on the circuit. They tend to meet here when they’re not adventuring.’
‘I see. Thanks, wizard.’
Sandon gave a little wave and carried on down the street.
‘Well?’ Og asked his brothers as they loitered outside the inn.
‘I’m not sure it’s him,’ said Grim. ‘If he was behind the attacks on Darkspike Dungeon and Urlay village, why would he be complaining to the Bureau and asking for the dungeons to be shut down? That doesn’t seem to make much sense.’
‘And does he really have what it takes to carry out a deception like this?’ asked Dog. ‘I mean, he’s nice enough, but he’s hardly dazzled us with his powers, has he?’
‘That’s true,’ said Grim, thinking of all the times on their adventure when Sandon nearly did something useful.
‘Unless that was all an elaborate ruse,’ Og suggested. ‘Alright, maybe not,’ he admitted upon seeing his brothers’ expressions. ‘But what about Gurin? He’s a different kettle of fish.’
Grim nodded. ‘Bitter about the changes to dungeon crawling in recent years. That might have led him to do something drastic.’
‘Plus, he’s a dwarf,’ said Dog. ‘You can’t trust—’
‘Dog!’ said Og, his voice rising threateningly. ‘Hasn’t this experience taught you anything about judging people?’
Dog seemed to think about it. ‘I don’t think so.’
Grim acted quickly before a full-blooded argument ensued. He barged through the doors of The Squished Plums and looked about. Dwarves are not generally the easiest of creatures to find, but he spotted half a dozen of them sat around a table in the corner, six tankards in front of them. He marched over. Grim had honestly never seen a more miserable looking collection of faces, and he lived in a dungeon with trolls.
‘This is Og-Grim-Dog,’ said Gurin, his voice rough but not unfriendly. ‘Pull up a chair, ogre.’
Grim turned around to the next table. Og and Dog grabbed separate chairs and there followed a ridiculous tussle over which chair would get placed on the table with the dwarves. Eventually, Grim was able to sit down.
‘Og-Grim-Dog, these are my good friends. I’ve known all of them for half a lifetime, some more.’ Gurin gestured to his right. ‘This is Hurin.’ Hurin raised his pipe at Og-Grim-Dog before taking a puff. ‘This old rascal is Durin,’ Gurin continued, moving around the circle. ‘Then you have Thurin, Kurin, and Tony.’
‘Nice to meet you all,’ said Grim.
‘Unfortunately, you’ve caught us in a bad mood,’ said Gurin.
‘What a surprise,’ Dog said under his breath.
‘You know I’ve not been happy with the direction of things under the Bureau. But this is another thing entirely. It’s more than the last straw. It’s an insult that dwarves will not soon forget. Thurin, show the ogre the new form.’
Thurin slid over a piece of paper entitled Membership Equal Opportunities Form REGEQ6. Not another bloody form, Grim thought, but reluctantly he scanned it over. It appeared that members of the Bureau now had to complete a check box form, identifying such personal details as race, gender, class and disability.
Og placed a big finger next to the race column.
‘No ogres on the list, of course,’ he said darkly.
‘Look who else isn’t on the list,’ said Thurin.
Then Grim saw it. ‘No dwarves? I don’t understand.’
‘Look under disabilities.’
The disabilities column was an alphabetical list of ailments, both physical and mental. Under ‘D’ was dwarfism. Grim looked at it, a little dumbfounded.
‘Yes,’ confirmed Gurin. ‘According to the Bureau, dwarves are no longer a race. We are a disability. This insult won’t be allowed to stand, mark my words.’
Gurin’s friends growled their agreement. Whatever the rights and wrongs of it, there was no doubting that these adventurers had been offended to their core.
‘If you’re friends,’ began Dog, ‘why don’t you go adventuring together? And can the Bureau stop you?’
‘A proper dungeon crawl,’ explained Gurin, ‘always used to require a mix of skills. Swords and sorcery; healing and guile; elves, dwarves and humans. You couldn’t succeed without brawn; without magic; without dwarven know-how. So, we rarely adventured together. We joined parties and when it was done, we’d come back to the Plums and share our stories and wisdom. This was our life, you understand? And as for adventuring alone, could the Bureau stop us hitting a dungeon? Do they have the resources to police all those locations? Of course not.’
‘Half of those dungeons we visited were easy takes,’ Dog said. ‘So there’s nothing to stop you doing it yourselves.’
‘But we don’t want to do that,’ Gurin seethed. ‘We want our world back. We want it to be the same as it used to be.’
THE ELF