The door opens proceeding the heavy clumping sounds of iron rimmed boots. The chair scoots out and above the height of the table I can barely make out a scruffy face. At the table now is Slatnichor, a dwarf of Harrodarr.
Me: "Welcome, sir dwarf. May I get you a drink? I know your journey was a long one."
Slatnichor: "No, no. If you can only direct me to where I can get you a drink. I will get it for you. I am thankful to have journeyed to your world for but a time. Never have I read of such an occurrence in all the books of the Estate! At least not the ones Brethor has for me to read!"
*the dwarf scuttles off, finding a nearby pitcher of water before pouring each of us a glass*
Me: "Well now that my thirst is quenched, let us talked about you. Slatnichor dwarf of ---"
Slatnichor: "Call me Slats. It is what they call me at Elinathrond."
Me: “Slats. Got it. So tell me how a dwarf has helped the city of Elinathrond. What defenses against outside forces have you taken part of? Any smithing?”
Slats: “Smithing! Ha! Now there is an assumption I would expect! I love to take a hammer and pound out some roasting hot ore but alas, this dwarf has not done such a task in some time. I chop wood and if not chopping wood, Cusis has me making pies aside from my normal servant duties. Although, I dare say I am any good at pie making.”
Me: “So you are a servant, pie-maker, woodsman?”
“Wood-dwarf. I am no man. I do not care for many men, nor does the elf. She and I had quite the ordeal the last time those bastard men of the Legions were near us. A lot of good dwarves and elves died.”
Me: “You speak of the tragedy in Taria. I believe readers of this will learn soon of that travesty.”
Slats: “That is a sad memory and I wish not to remember it right now. There is already too much sadness in the city to think of what happenings were before our time. Elinathrond was suppose to be safe. I digress from our topic, of much history I do enjoy and of lately my reading has taken me to the subject of wine-making.”
Me: “Are you preparing for the arrival of the new winemaker?”
Slats: “Yes, I am. I am to be their assistant.”
Me: “Have you been an assistant before?”
Slats: “I have had interest but Loria, the previous winemaker, had a less than patient times with dwarves. He was of the old thinking, he fought against the dwarves many times. I am too young to remember such happenings but I know of them. He was a good elf but stubborn, if I can say without dishonoring him.”
Me: “I understand he died in a fire?”
Slats: “Died is one wording of it, Cusis and I believe he was killed but we are not sure who did it. I am wary of being in the winery for that reason no doubt!”
Me: “Wine in the north, an odd choice don’t you think? Grapes that far north? Is Elinathrond not very cold?”
Slats: “You must understand that our wine is much more than a fine drink. I dare say it is a life-force, and one that has run out--- oh dear, I must get going!
*Slats leaves the table and head towards the door*
Me: “Wait! I had a few more questions!”
Slats: “Sorry dear sir, come to the estate and we will share some wine and talk of it! I must hurry, I left pies in the oven! Cusis told me not to burn the pies again! He is going to kill this dwarf!”
*The door slams shut and I am alone again*
Another interview with a character from Winemaker of the North is available! Click here to meet a mage and decide yourself if he is for good or ill.
Read more of Slats and the city of Elinathrond in the sword-and-sorcery novel Winemaker of the North!