Expansion - Chapter 25

 

Brammir – Slate Clan Hall

As he eats with the engineers, Brammir spots Brottan scanning the hall for a place to sit. He waves him over. “Brenna, this is one of the miners I worked with — Brottan.”

The dwarves make room for him at the table.

Brikel grins. “Let’s see… Brammir, Brenna, Brottan, and Brikel. All we need is one more ‘B’ name and we’d have a full set.”

Brenna laughs and looks around. “I don’t see Broddik or Branik. So, I guess we’re one short.”

A dwarf with his beard braided in the lone‑wolf style pauses, staring at Brammir.

“Excuse me… did you say you’re Brammir? Brammir Thuldrenson?”

Brammir blinks, confused. “I am. But I don’t remember meeting you.”

The dwarf shifts his plate to one hand and extends the other. “I’m Brokkan Durvakson. I worked with your brother — Helmir.”

Before Brammir can respond, the engineers cheer. “Brokkan! The fifth ‘B’ — a complete set! Sit!”

Brokkan looks baffled for a moment, clearly having missed the joke. The engineers quickly introduce themselves, and he relaxes as they explain it.

Brammir wants to ask Brokkan questions — so many questions — but now isn’t the right time. He focuses on his meal instead.

As they eat, stories and gossip flow around the table. Brokkan mentions he was supposed to be part of a second shift of miners going to Bimadizi‑Kor, but that assignment was cancelled.

Brottan says, “We just came from Bimadizi‑Kor, isn’t that right, Brammir?” He nods.

Brenna pauses mid‑bite. “There would have been enough work for two shifts. There was plenty of ore.”

“We were told that was the plan,” Brokkan says, “until the Legion showed up.”

“None of it really makes sense,” Brikel mutters.

Yivra softly adds, “Should’ve closed down before we lost Mardek.”

The joy drains from Brikel’s face.

The rest of the engineers fall quiet.

Brammir turns to Brenna. “Was that your friend you lost?”

She nods.

After a few minutes of subdued eating, Brikel says, “We really need to make sure Mardek’s things get to the Slate Clan.”

Brottan looks over. “I’m Slate. Slate‑Jaw. Who was Mardek?”

Yivra answers, “Slate‑Runner. We did his smidasaga and sagnasteinn. When we arrived, we deposited them with the Guild.”

Brottan nods in understanding. “When we finish, I’ll get them and bring them to the Clan Hall. I found it earlier when I walked around.”

Brikel asks, “Can I accompany you? I was part of the rituals.” Yivra corrects him gently. “We were all part of them. We’d be honored to help you.” The engineers at the table all nod. Brammir places a hand on Brottan’s shoulder. “I’d like to help too.”

“We never did a sagnasteinn for Helmir,” Brokkan says softly.  He pauses and looks at all of them. “Yes. Please accompany me. We’ll give Mardek full honors.”

 

They walk through the busy streets, Brottan carrying the wrapped slates as the others follow close behind. Brikel has Mardek’s rods and ropes; Yivra carries his pack with personal items.

Brokkan says, “I’d heard gobblers don’t own anything — just share it all. Wonder if they’ve anything like this for their dead.”

Brammir shrugs. “My brother always said they just dump them into pits and let them break down into soil.”

Brenna shakes her head. “That’s probably just more rumors and tales.”

Brikel turns, lifting Mardek’s rod to show the depth. “Could’ve been. The pits in the waste room were deep enough.” He gestures. “I wish I could’ve read those goblin marks. Maybe they said ‘Here lies Ol’ Gobbler.’”

No one laughs as the joke lands flat.

They approach a recently built stone‑block building with the Slate Clan emblem carved above the door. Gas lamps burn on either side of the gate.

Brottan knocks. The gate opens.

“I’m Brottan Slate‑Jaw.”

An old dwarf with clan emblems woven into his beard looks over the group of miners and engineers. “Are all these Slate Clan?”

“No, just me,” Brottan says. “But they’re here to finalize the ritual.” He hands one wrapped package to Brenna and unwraps the other. He reads the carved title aloud. “This is the sagnasteinn for Mardek Slate‑Runner.”

The miners and engineers bow their heads as it is presented.

The elder at the gate raises a hand. “Stop. Wait. Come into the courtyard. Let’s do this properly.”

He opens the doors wider and motions them inside.

The courtyard is quiet, centered around a stone fountain. Small block buildings ring the space. “Wait here,” the elder says, and disappears through an elaborately carved door.

A few minutes later, a dwarf wearing both clan and Guild emblems steps out, carrying an ornamental hammer. “I’m Tharvik Slate‑Ward, head of Slate Clan here. I’m told you’ve brought a sagnasteinn.”

“And a smidasaga,” Brikel says politely.

Brottan nods. “I am Brottan Slate‑Jaw, and this is the sagnasteinn for Mardek Slate‑Runner.”

Tharvik takes it and reads the runes. “He looks to have been a fine lad.”

Brottan unwraps the second slate. “And here is the smidasaga, showing that though he died, his task was completed.”

Tharvik reads it, nodding reverently.

Brikel steps forward and places the tools on the ground. “These were the tools of Mardek. He used them well.” Yivra sets down his pack. “These were his things. He carried them with pride.”

Tharvik looks around the group. “Are there any others?”

They all shake their heads.

He continues, voice solemn. “You honor the Slate Clan greatly — not only by completing the ritual, but by returning his tools.”

He turns and nods to the elder at the gate.

The old dwarf steps forward and hands each of them a small metal badge. “Friend of Slate Clan,” he says. “If you are ever in need of help, you will find it here.”

They bow their heads, accept the badges, and quietly leave.