Background:

Early Vaslar was always the worst. The surface begins to swealter, but the rocks below remain cold. Bartholomew Oddmund Bogtrotter, a cleric in the service of the Lady Arianna, was nearing an opening his people used as a means of scouting and hunting. He was asked to check up on his brethren returning from their labors.

"Famm sad, pnudran." ||"Well met, brother"|| A charcoal skinned dwarf approached. They were a few inches shorter than Bob, but their muscles were more defined.
"Yr, Boric. Kuut du caa oui ryja nadinhat cyvamo." ||"Ah, Boric. Good to see you have returned safely."||

Bob smiles lightly. "Come now, brother. Let us refrain from straining our minds and grinding our tongues with the words of our ancestors. How are you?"
"Aye, you're right of course. I am well enough. The young one got a couple of scrapes and bruises, but nothing more." Boric nods in the direction of the youngest in his group. "He's got heart. And he's tough. Not quite where he should be, but he'll pick it up well enough."

BOB nods thoughtfully. "It seems that the gods are slowly forcing us to return to the surface more and more with each new generation."

"Bah! Yer not still on about that goddess of your's are yeh?" Another dwarf, grey skinned this time, spoke up as he approached. "I think yeh spent too much time wit them pointy eared tree-lovers."

Bob sighs as he regards the dwarf before him. "Rockbeard, just because you do not enjoy the surface does not mean those feelings should apply to all. Each and every living creature has a life and mind of its own. You can not judge them for such things. As for the Lady Arianna I-"
"Don't you start on about that now. I'm tired enough havin to listen to that brat about the rabbits and mushrooms. I got neither the time nor the patience teh deal with anythin else."

Bob watches as the two begin a conversation of their own and excuses himself to check on the youngling. "So how was you first real journey on the surface? Anything exciting happen?"
"Nah. Just slipped on some moss near the creek. Rockbeard just complained the rest of the trip with how useless I was. Seemed like nothin I said would fix things so I jus kept away."

"Probably a good choice. Rockbeard does not like the surface. Of all the dwarves on Dragon's Star, I don't think any of them can be as stubborn as him." Bob said with a slight chuckle. "Don't let it bother you."

The young dwarf raised his hand in acknowledgement as Bob continued to the surface. He wasn't sure why he was being drawn out like this, but he learned many years ago to listen when these feelings came. Finally reaching the exit Bob stood just inside the opening taking in the view. The Azurlisia Mountains were covered in the green of late spring, but Gano, Dragon's Star's light, was high and hot. On cooler days one might see the drakes flying or scurrying around the mountainside.