Orodyuke lay dozing at his forge, his head resting cosily on an anvil. The oil lamps affixed to the cavern’s walls were running low, but their gentle glow sufficed to illuminate the array of tools laid out before him, from some project in the works. The low embers of the inactive forge still let out the odd crackle, and radiated a solid heat that suffused the old dwarf’s bones, bringing him all the comfort in the world. He suddenly felt a presence grow behind him, which he was vaguely aware belonged to his grandfather who, to his extreme consternation, began to beat upon his head with a silver hammer. “Rise, you dolt!” He bellowed. “It is late, and you have much ground to cover today!” Orodyuke teetered in his confusion, raising a hand to ward off the blows, only to brush against……leaves? 

He opened his eyes, disorientated, discovering that he was not in his underground home, but rather wrapped in a dark green cloak, ensconced in the tree hollow he had crawled into the night before. He rose, stretching the stiffness from his limbs as he emerged from the dense foliage, glad to have once more survived the hours of darkness. It must have rained during the night, for the surrounding plants and flowers were all dappled with dew, though on closer inspection there seemed to be something black in the water, which somewhat ruined the effect.

He broke into his rations for breakfast, before snaking his way through the trees back to the High road, which was but a short distance away.  Mountains dominated the skyline, and in the valley below the sanctuary of Urenda was visible, filled with torches and nestled in the burnt husk of the former port city.

[i]I’m sleeping later he thought[/i], squinting at the sun, which had already been up for a couple of hours. He salvaged a broken branch nearby for a walking stick, before beginning the winding descent into the valley. The monotony of the walk pleased him, and though he was alert for danger, it did not seem long before he broke through the trees and reached the outpost at the border of the city.

A young priest on watch hailed Orodyuke as he approached. “Greetings traveller! What brings you to Urenda?” he called out warily.
The dwarf slowed to a stop and replied “Rumours abound of a city that fares remarkably well in resisting the darkness that stalks these lands.  I am here to see such a thing for myself and learn what I can for my research… What is the purpose of this place?”
The priest gestured at a couple of optimistic looking travellers chatting some ways behind him. “We ferry those who wish to visit the city through the ruins, which are still inhabited by all manner of demons. It is early and there are not many here yet. You can continue onward if you wish, but if you are willing to wait a while, we can have you in the walls by sunset.”
Orodyuke considered this for a moment, but by sunset was no good. He had business to attend to in the city, and told as much to the priest, who gave him instructions to reach the gates. “I can’t recommend it; you have to be quick and cautious. Good luck stranger, and beware of the structures themselves. The creatures there are cunning and may seek to crush you under some piece of masonry.”

He thanked the priest for his advice and bid him farewell. The ground from then on became hard and dry, though that also made it easier to walk on. He spied a few shapes in the distance, but otherwise crossed the fields without incident, and even paused to have his lunch in the wreck of a burnt-out mill. However when he reached the beginnings of the city proper, he paused. The air felt foul, and there was something incredibly more sinister about the closely packed buildings, which hid who knows how many watchful eyes. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise, and the sharp sting of fear in his stomach. He abandoned the walking stick for his sword, which sang in trembling anticipation as he removed it from his sheath, and with a deep breath advanced determinedly into the shadows. 

[hr]
[centre]*[/centre]	

"I'm fine, blast you!" the dwarf growled, shrugging off the attendee who had been attempting to measure his temperature. The healer examining him tutted, then was quiet for a moment as he packed away his instruments into a small box at his side, the silence broken by the unsettling sounds of the nearby patients. 
"Well, you're not showing any of the other symptoms" he said finally. "I would keep you over night, but we're short on beds. So I guess you're free to go." The elf sighed tiredly, scribbling something down on a piece of paper and handing it to the dwarf. "Here, take this as proof that I've examined you." He gave him a serious look down his spectacles. "I recommend you do your best to avoid attracting attention like that in the future. The atmosphere is tense here at the moment, and people might not react kindly." 
Orodyuke nodded, he didn't need to be told twice. 
"You'll find a meal and a place to rest in the inn back down the way. I've done what I can for your cuts, so just try not to scratch them in the night. And if you find yourself suddenly feeling dizzy or nauseous, be sure to come back and see me straight away." 
Orodyuke grunted in reply, relieved that he was finally being discharged, and with a wave of dismissal from the healer, made his way out of the clinic and back onto the bleak streets of Urenda.

That he had arrived at the gates battered and bleeding, wielding a bloody sword and pursued by two creatures that resembled black dogs with arms for front legs had not seemed to earn Orodyuke any points with the watchers stationed there. After dispatching the creatures they had questioned and perused him most thoroughly before allowing him entry to the city. No more than a few steps over the threshold he had been assaulted with a fit of coughing. Murmuring passersby had crossed the road to avoid him, and after exchanging a fearful glance, the guards had hauled him straight to the clinic, where he had wasted a further two hours trying to convince the healer there that it was a pre-existing condition and not a symptom of the strange illness that seemed to be intent on making its way into the city.

He reached for his pipe, as he always did when he was irritated, before remembering with a scowl that he had finished the last of his tobacco the previous day. Still, a puff through the enchanted wood eased his lungs, and he recalled briefly catching sight of a herb stall when he was being ushered in by the guards, and so he set about making his way back towards the gate.

Urenda was more than Orodyuke had dared hope for. Travellers he'd encountered on the High Road had spoken of it as a beacon of salvation and shelter. He hadn't held to such wishful thinking, but it was still more worthy of the term settlement than anywhere else he'd been on the surface. He thought the town held a kind of noble squalor. The buildings were ramshackle, the defences makeshift and the city a mere memory of what it had once been. But that was very impressive in these times. The locals were proud and determined to struggle for what they had achieved, despite the shadows that daily sought to snuff them out, and Orodyuke saw this reflected in their expressions just as much as their exhaustion.

The sun was just beginning to set as he approached the stalls. It seemed any further business would have to wait until tomorrow. A dwarf merchant watched him grimly as he inspected the weapons on display, whilst a child Orodyuke assumed was his son fed straw to the mule tied to the wagon.

It was a poor show. The armour was in scraps and many of the weapons were caked with rust. "Is most of the equipment in Urenda like this?" he asked finally, using the opportunity to speak in his native tongue.
The merchant's expression didn't change. "We have to make do with what is available."
Orodyuke nodded. "I am a blacksmith by trade. Do you know where I could make myself useful around here?"
The merchant shrugged. "Smiths are always appreciated. There may be work for you at the forge if they have the iron, or they may need help maintaining the walls." He gestured at the cathedral further up, by far the most impressive building in the city. "Go speak with the priests tomorrow, they'll let you know where you can be of most help during your stay."
Orodyuke thanked him and left. The kindly human couple across from the dwarf were beginning to pack up when he approached them, but he managed to buy enough tobacco to last him a few days, as well as a small pot containing a salve, some of which he smeared on the worst of his cuts before retiring to the inn.

The sign outside was so battered Orodyuke could not tell if the inn had once had a name, but it was cosy enough inside. He was greeted warmly and offered a simple meal, for which he gave what remained of his meagre coin. He chose a table at random, listening to the forced laughs and chatter of the other patrons as he picked grimly at his food and planned out what needed to be done the following day. [i]I would do well not to dwell here too long. Especially if there is an epidemic on the way.[/i] For all the shelter it provided, living in Urenda seemed just as perilous as anywhere else on Reath, if not more so. 

Once again he drew out his pipe, and once again fate sought to foil his endeavour. He had nothing to light it with!

A muffled curse escaped into his beard. “Innkeeper! You wouldn’t have a spare match would you?”