HoM[M]ie
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When Heimyr awoke and realized where he was, he was overcome with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it was nice that the danger had passed and he was back home; on the other hand, was all the journey for nothing? “Maybe this is just another illusion? But no, it’s all too real… In any case, I need to return to the Empire; I won’t abandon what I started! Besides, my friends are still there…” Heimyr had grown attached to almost all the members of his small group. The unusual snake-man, Nokou; the responsive elf, Kerlian; the stern-looking but seemingly kind cook, Reynold; and everyone else had once again become clear in his mind. “If I don’t see them again, it will be a great loss… Oh, what happened to them? And I need to find out!”
Heimyr looked at himself. He was wearing some rags and holding a metal rod, which he angrily threw on the ground. The Dwarf stood in the middle of a residential street, wide but not very busy, because his people were a busy folk and rarely allowed themselves to wander around aimlessly. It was a huge underground hall, created by the tireless labor of the local inhabitants; the eye could barely discern where it ended and the vaults of solid rock began again. A constant twilight reigned here; the lighting was created by huge stone monuments located in different parts of the city, with roaring flames on them, which were maintained either by coal or by magic, rune magic… The few passersby looked at Heimyr with surprise. “Here is the advantage of being an uncommunicative people – no one knows anyone, and no one points fingers. Well, I’ll go home first; I need to rest and… “delight” my parents. I’ll stay for a while and then set off again. I won’t do anything today, but tomorrow I’ll go to the forge; I need to get some kind of weapon.” He was already approaching his house, which was no different from other similar houses carved directly into the rock. Light from a small, dim window seeped out. “Father should be in the forge, but mother is always at home.” Heimyr felt a pleasant shiver run through him at the thought of seeing his family soon, and the warmth of his home already spread through his body. Gathering his courage, he knocked on the door several times…
Heimyr looked at himself. He was wearing some rags and holding a metal rod, which he angrily threw on the ground. The Dwarf stood in the middle of a residential street, wide but not very busy, because his people were a busy folk and rarely allowed themselves to wander around aimlessly. It was a huge underground hall, created by the tireless labor of the local inhabitants; the eye could barely discern where it ended and the vaults of solid rock began again. A constant twilight reigned here; the lighting was created by huge stone monuments located in different parts of the city, with roaring flames on them, which were maintained either by coal or by magic, rune magic… The few passersby looked at Heimyr with surprise. “Here is the advantage of being an uncommunicative people – no one knows anyone, and no one points fingers. Well, I’ll go home first; I need to rest and… “delight” my parents. I’ll stay for a while and then set off again. I won’t do anything today, but tomorrow I’ll go to the forge; I need to get some kind of weapon.” He was already approaching his house, which was no different from other similar houses carved directly into the rock. Light from a small, dim window seeped out. “Father should be in the forge, but mother is always at home.” Heimyr felt a pleasant shiver run through him at the thought of seeing his family soon, and the warmth of his home already spread through his body. Gathering his courage, he knocked on the door several times…
aka Sir Holmes aka David Jones.
