Extraction In The Witcher

Abel heard the faint sounds of the dwarven convoy approaching. He pricked his ears and managed to catch the occasional explosive curse word drifting in the air. Habitually he began to examine his wings, brushing down any disobedient feathers that stuck out in the wrong direction. 

After a few minutes the dwarven convoy emerged from the valley path. A cheer rose up amongst them as they celebrated their successful safe passage through the mountains. While most of the dwarves yelled and beat their hammers against their shields, a young dwarf who bore a striking resemblance to Kilard hastily scanned the land in front of them. He soon found his target and span round, darting to the centre of the convoy and knocking several times on a wagon's door. 

Kilard watched his son's behavior with a smile. He then put his mind to the matter of addressing the familiar winged figure standing not too far away. Of course the distance still amounted to a hundred or so meters, Abel's cautious nature had not changed. 

Kilard walked to the front of the convoy and called out, "Thank you kind sir! The lives of myself and my men were saved by your intervention. We owe you a great debt." 

Abel was delighted to see the dwarven leader taking the initiative to begin the conversation. It was obvious that he had gained the dwarf's respect. This significantly enhanced the prospects of successful cooperation. 

"I am glad to see your safe arrival. Your men and you have good hearts, the world needs those like you. " Abel replied jovially. 

Kilard placed his hand on his chest, "Kind sir, a dwarf does not leave a debt unpaid. I am the leader of this convoy and I assume full responsibility for its safety, had my people fallen in that valley I would've deserved to die a thousand times. It is entirely thanks to your aid that we emerged safe. I cannot command my men to lay down their lives for you, but should the situation deem it necessary, I will not hesitate to repay the lives you have saved with my own." 

His face didn't change, but in his mind Abel was doing somersaults. The dwarf was practically offering himself up on a silver platter. The items and information he wished to obtain were certain to be given freely! 

'I need a new pair of bloody trousers.' Abel thought to himself. He enjoyed feeling the wind caressing his wings as he flew, but he most certainly did not enjoy it on his lower regions. 

Abel opened his mouth to continue the conversation and lead it in the direction of trade, but a voice suddenly interrupted. 

"Hehehe, Kilard's always been a chivalrous one. He means what he says. He isn't wrong about our code though, we owe you a favor and a large one at that." Spoke an elderly voice. 

Abel's vision was no less sharp than an eagle's. He could make out the individual hairs growing wildly from the old dwarf's chin. The dwarf's beard was plaited into two thick ropes and thrown back over his shoulders. Abel thought that this was likely to prevent the beard dragging on the ground. The dwarf was obviously older than Kilard and judging by the immediate look of respect that appeared on Kilard's face, he held a more senior position within the convoy as well. 

Abel cleared his throat and said respectfully, "Thank you, may I know how to address you noble dwarf?" 

The old dwarf chuckled and replied, "I am Lingon Frondling, please, call me Lingon." 

"It is my honor to meet you Lingon, I am Abel." Abel said. 

Lingon's eyes contained an inexplicable magnetism. He had seen more of the world than any human ever could. He scratched his brow with a long fingernail, "Abel from the moment you advised my kin you became a friend of the dwarves. State your name at the stronghold of Kibalath and you will be welcomed with open arms." 

Lingon paused for a breath, "I sense also Abel, that you wish to obtain something from us. Our wagons are laden with all manner of weapons, you may take freely should you wish to do so. Price is of no importance." 

The offer was straightforward and to the point. Typical of a dwarf. Abel paused and thought carefully about how he should reply. He had little interest in the dwarven weapons, armor might've caught his attention, but he knew that only custom-made armor could fit around the curves and flexing of his wings. He also felt strongly that he should not take too much from the dwarves, he did not want to be given goods without paying. He knew that by doing so he would sour the relations between himself and the dwarves, even if Lingon or Kilard did not voice it. 

"I admire your skill in forgery, but I do not seek your weapons. I wish to trade with you, I will pay a fair price." Abel replied slowly. 

The old dwarf's eyebrows lifted slightly, he scratched his eyebrow more quickly, "And what is it you wish to trade for?" 

Abel remained silent. The gazes of the elder dwarf and the traveler from another world met. Neither party displayed any sign of submission.

The old dwarf broke the silence with a hearty laugh, "Come come! Business matters should be dealt with privately, not out in the open like this! Kilard watch the wagons, I shall accompany our new friend to discuss business." 

The old dwarf strode forwards confidently, leaving behind an open-mouthed Kilard. The other dwarves seemed unsurprised, merely chuckling and patting Kilard on the back as if comforting him. 

Abel was surprised to see the old dwarf choosing to leave the safety of his convoy. Although the old dwarf was walking over with a smile and didn't seem capable of hurting a fly, for his spine was far too throw a decent punch or wield a blade, he nonetheless represented an unknown threat entering Abel's space. 

Abel weighed up the potential risks of being in close proximity with the dwarf. He could have a magical weapon like Kilard or perhaps even be a sorcerer himself. There were countless scenarios and outcomes. But ultimately Abel remained still, his wings outstretched wide behind him as they always were. 

The old dwarf patted Abel on the arm, "Come come, there's a nice looking tree over there. Good things always happen underneath trees, we shall talk as we walk!" 

The dwarven convoy tied up their horses and allowed them to graze. Bottles of light spirit were brought out and within minutes of the old dwarf leaving, a rowdy crowd were gathered around a bonfire. Kilard stood far away from the festivities, mumbling to himself fearfully about his duty to protect elder Lingon and the consequences that would befall him if the elder dwarf returned with an injury. He didn't dare consider what would happen if the elder dwarf didn't return at all. 

While Kilard fretted and trembled, the elder dwarf and Abel were chatting happily. Abel had adopted the typical dwarven style of communication and told Lingon what he wanted outright. 

"So you wish to obtain monster remains huh? Now that's a rare request, good on you for making my old life a little more interesting! You aren't a sorcerer are you, god knows what they put in their spells." 

Abel shook his head, "No, not a sorcerer. All that nonsensical meddling in the affairs of kings and queens would drive me mad." 

Lingon threw his head back and laughed, "Very well put! Very well put indeed! I won't ask why you need them, I can tell from your eyes that you're not going to be hurting anyone who doesn't strike you first." 

The older dwarf used his long fingernail to rummage around in his ear canal, "I'm afraid that I have no materials to offer you. My people live by the creed of iron and fire, we don't have any use for such things." 

Abel frowned. He reached into his wings and pulled out the deerskin sack he had secured to the bone. The thick white feathers hid it masterfully. 

"If it's a matter of cost, I will not shortchange you." Abel said, opening his palm to reveal an egg sized piece of shimmering red ore.

Elder Lingon's eyes lit up instantly. His hands moved before his brain could tell them not to and he grabbed the ore. All dwarves had an intrinsic attraction towards metal and stone, his nature overrode his politeness before he could stop it. 

Coughing to relieve his slight embarrassment, Lingon explained, "Meteorite. Ore that sorcerers say comes from outside of our world. When paired with the right materials it can create the sharpest blade known to man! Bah! What a waste it would be to craft a simple sword! No, a material like this must be endowed with the proper runes!" 

Abel was delighted by the dwarf's covetous reaction, it was obvious that the price of the meteorite ore would not be low. What made him even more delighted was the several other pieces he'd hidden in a nearby cave. It was never good to reveal all your cards at once and Abel didn't want the dwarves to know exactly how much of the strange ore he possessed. 

Lingon sighed and handed the ore back to Abel, "A piece like that is worth a thousand orens, enough to live like a king for a year." 

"I may not have any of the things you seek myself, but I have a friend who's farm has been ravaged by some kind of beast for nearly two months now. When we last spoke he told me that he had invited a witcher to kill the wretched thing." Lingon said. 

Abel felt his heart quicken with anticipation. 'A witcher!' Even if they're not as friendly as Geralt they surely ought not turn down a generous price for their kill!' 

Outwardly Abel remained composed, displaying a calculated level of intrigue in his facial expression. Inwardly he was jumping for joy. He forcefully suppressed his giddiness and replied, "Lingon, if you can precure me the monster's corpse then you can consider my earlier favor more than repaid! I will of course pay a fair and generous price for the body and pay you for your brokerage!" 

Lingon smiled, the deal offered by Abel was beneficial to all parties. Abel's words heavily implied that he wished to remain unknown for the transaction. As a non-human himself Lingon knew that the young man with broad white wings likely feared how he would be treated if he showed himself publicly. 

"A small detail I forgot to mention, that may encourage you to deal with him directly..." The old dwarf smiled a sly grin, "my friend is a gnome."