Chilled exorcist

And even the second and third places on the list do not belong to Feanoth. Innesent, with a coastal port and a white belt of walls around it, erected on an island at the source of three rivers. It is virtually impregnable thanks to its white fortifications. Next in size will be Kostegrad, whose city walls, which defended the city once upon a time, have been left behind by beggars camped around an ancient stone heart. Only these cities would be followed by Feanoth, completing the four largest fortifications of Terresia. A castle built with dwarves and mages alike.

And strangely enough, the capital of the Empire itself, Amberesvet the Great, as well as Red Port, Iron Grip and the large but wooden Burning Cauldron would only take the last place. Here the main emphasis was placed on the Lord's castle and the fortifications for it. Without that fortification, they would be no different from the cities of the Homelands north of Fortress Ruch, stretching all the way to the First Gate. And the Forbidden Cape, or otherwise known as Ghost Cape, where the people of the whisperers-in-the-night live, would be barely larger than the outposts in the mountains, where only the guardians rule.

Why did I wonder about a contest in the size of the fortifications of all the castles of Terresia? Probably the upcoming tournament put me in that competitive mood. But I digress....

Today, Castle Feanoth was more crowded than ever. People in the valley were hurriedly stopping work in the vineyards and rushing to the castle. It seems that the Count's tournament had attracted many brave men, both heroes – knights from all over the lands, and mercenaries – hunters for profit.

Mercenaries crowded the corridors, guards and servants scurried here and there. Even here, away from the feasting hall and the exits to the arena and arena, it was crowded. Every now and then someone passed by the open doors. Not so long ago a passerby knocked on my door, and when I asked him what he wanted here, he said that he had mistaken this room for his own and hurried away. I was thinking how many people like that are here now, looking for something to eat.

I was contracted by the Order for a mission. I still blame myself for that emotional outburst and for agreeing to it. Except that I was a little relieved that everyone who signed the contract now had their own private room in the castle, as a special gift from the Lord. I walked over and sat down on the bed, taking in the view from the window, and met my gaze again with the dwarf standing across from me. My friend and faithful companion had finally finished his long contemplation.

"You know what, I'm not going with you," the dwarf shook his head. "My instincts have never failed me before – it's a lost cause, my friend!"

I waited for my friend to think. I was looking out the window, thinking about the cities of Terressia, when his voice came from behind me. He finally spoke again after my question and long deliberation. And walked to the now my private room and sat down across from the dwarf.

"Suit yourself," I shrugged. If the Order does sign the contract, I'll have to fulfill it as a mercenary. K'Yoevghahn's contract is up, and he's free to go wherever he wants.

The dwarf stood up and grasped his crossbow with determination. I thought he was going to point it at me again, but this time he did something different. K'Yoevghahn stroked the hilt of his crossbow once more and held out his weapon to me.

"Here you go, you saved my life, and it will replace your spear." In his usual careless manner, the dwarf pushed me in the stomach with his weapon, only this time with the handle. He did this whenever I took one gold for a new contract, threatening to shoot me for my stupidity and stubbornness.

I wanted to object, but met the dwarf's steely gaze. The dwarf shifted his steely eyebrows for effect, and when I took the weapon, he folded his strong arms across his chest as if forged in the crucible of the forges:

"Take it before I change my mind. And I will not tolerate any objections," he waved me away with square fingers and clenched his fists so that the knuckles turned white on his strong hands. History says, "Fear the dwarves who bring gifts…" and it's because they're pathologically stingy. It is very difficult for them to give gifts, and so my friend was torn between two opposites.

"I'm grateful to you, K'Yoevghan. This is an invaluable gift." He seemed to let go a little.

"If I'd known," K'Yoevghahn said in a low growl, "that you, humans, had such a mercenary mess, I never would have come to you."

"You didn't complain much the last time we gathered gold," I grinned, remembering my recent contract.

"Gold," the dwarf said, raising his index finger, "shines brightly, but here, if it's not a trick, it's just bad smelling.... foolishness! What was the point of you binding yourself to the Order again? You should have smashed a couple of dragon eggs over their heads instead of agreeing to it. You're very wrong, buddy!"

I sighed.

"I don't understand it, absolutely not!" The dwarf waved his hands away again. "Don't ask, I'll never go with you," he turned away, waiting for something to happen, and froze. He must have been expecting me to talk him into it. In that moment, I realized how much my friend trusted me. If I insisted right now, he would go, even in spite of his premonition.

"I understand you, K'Yoevghan. I'm not asking you to, it's my personal thing, you know?" I tried to give him a hint.

"Personal, you say?" He rubbed his beard from top to bottom with his right hand. That gesture meant many things to dwarves. K'Yoevghahn shifted his eyebrows and said, "I have a wife and children in the north, and that's personal, I understand, but what you find 'personal' in the Order, I don't know," I shrugged.

"Friend, I'm not asking you to come with me this time." The words sounded as if they weren't spoken by me. So different from my usual tone. The dwarf stayed still for the first time in our long journey, then shuddered as if startled out of his thoughts. He shook his head again and nodded, "All right, have it your way, old friend," he patted my shoulder. The dwarf could only do that because I was sitting up. "When you're done with your business, come visit us in the Blue Mountains. I'll be waiting for you."

"It's a deal," I gave him my hand, and we shook hands on the verbal agreement.

"Not goodbye," the dwarf said angrily and walked away. Without turning around, K'Yoevghahn went to the door and slammed it so hard that the plaster flew off, covering the entire threshold. My heart skipped a beat. I shook my head, "How childish is that?" And after a little while, I walked out towards the playpen.

The dwarf was gone in the hallway.

There was a half-human-sized porcelain vase in a deep alcove across the hall from my room. A cart of fruits and vegetables passed me in the hallway. The peddler, not letting go of the hand luggage on wheels, nodded at his wares, offering them to me, but I shook my head negatively. Then he walked on down the mosaic laid out here.

As I went lower, I saw a dwarf blacksmith pouring some kind of liquid into a kind of furnace mechanism. The splashes flew in all directions, hitting the fire, which was eagerly embracing them, and the apron, which was already very unattractive and shabby-looking. Looking down, the dwarven smith took a pair of tongs and began to extract the small bronze plates coming out of the machine. "Lamellar armor!" I guessed. "Looks like preparations for the upcoming tournament are well underway here."