The trip from Death Mountain to Castle City was a rather long and typically boring trip for the Gorons especially Dorcon. At least going to the town was mostly downhill and rolling helped speed the trip up and it made it more entertaining. He wasn't typically in a hurry, but he didn't feel now was the time to stop and smell the roses. Not many roses grew in the red mountain in fact there was almost no green anywhere in the rocky land. His rolling skills were among the best of the Gorons, so rolling down the mountian at top speeds was easy for him. The amount of times he had climbed and rolled the mountain in strength and speed training was innumerable. Today he wasn't rolling for fun or training though. He had a mission who's urgency could be increasing every moment. The lower level was currently sealed off and held strange dangers that were growing at an unknown speed. The seals could break any moment and time was of the essence. Of course most of the Gorons were sure the seals wouldn't break for a hundred years, but their pride had caused them problems in the past. Dorcon was their humble call for help.
The sceneries change was a slow one and there were very few people to entertain him along the way. A few farmer's houses located deep in their acreages of farmland began to show themselves as the earth began to change from red to green. The land became flat as well and rolling was hardly an option anymore. The farmers were typically nice and social, which was good as they were the only people to talk to in between the trip. He didn't feel like visiting them much this trip though. Even though he didn't fear a break in the seal anytime soon, the lingering thought in the back of his head ruined his normal outgoing personality. After a week of travel, he could finally see the gate in sight.
The road began to widen as he got closer to Castle City itself. It also began to become more crowded. Caravans and travelers from all over were collecting to the gates of the city, but that was nothing compared to inside the city walls. The mid-morning bustle was very real. The latest of the early morning shoppers were still scouring stalls for ripe fruit. The lazier of the merchants were finishing last minute details before opening their eccentric stalls. Guards were busily dealing with newcomers and the minor tussles that annoyingly called their attention everyday. Streetrats lurked in the alleyways, waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of the many illegal profits the city provided. Dorcon was fortunately wise to these opportunities and when a kid brushed by him, he quickly grabbed him by the arm and lifted him in the air. He held out his hand until the kid dropped a wallet into his hand where he then let him run off again.
Dorcon knew he should have technically been able to get help from the parliament, but recently they only cared about whether everyone was registered and paying their taxes, which unfortunately mysterious beasts were neither. Unless the Gorons revolted they probably would see little action in Death Mountain and then the actions would be against them. Finding heros on the street was was more profitable most of the time anyways. Mercenaries came at their own price and were typically cheaper than the running government rate and they had a lot of less red tape involved in their work. Nonetheless, he would probably make an appeal to the government for help, it was the right thing to do, but that could wait until tomorrow. He had a few friends he wanted to see in the main city first.
He began to make his way to the shadier part of the city where the gangs tended to run things. His first stop was at a warehouse guarded by two Gorons, one was heavily tatted and the other had heavily adorned himsef with spikes. Upon recognition of who he was and a quick search through his things, they opened the door and let him into the warehouse. The sight of machines and lines running back and forth with the occasional Goron stationed as security over the inside and the machines themselves became apparent as he stepped through the doorway. Farther back it could be seen that counterfeit ruppees were being created at a slow rate. Dorcon turned off towards an office that sat in the top right corner of the warehouse, overlooking the operation that ensued below. He walked passed another guard wrapped in chians, presumably his weapon of choice, as he entered the office.
"Dorcon!!!" A deep voice bellowed as he showed his smiling face to the office.
"Granad!!!" He replied excitedly, finally seeing his brother after several years. He wasn't really his brother, but their families were close and they might as well have been. "I see your still running your business around here. When are you ever going to make an honest living? This technology is pretty cutting edge and could be used some real ways."
"Meh, that's not my style. There's to many hurdles to jump for that stuff and my legs are nothing like yours. It's a nice business anyways. Most of the guards are too busy during the day, dealing with the townsfolk and the gates and such and then I get to party all night. Anyways, How is the fastest Goron alive? I heard the mountain is having some trouble." The two settled into seats as they began catching up.
"Yeah, some strange thing were happening in the lower sections of the mountain. The elders sealed it off and of course anything made by the Gorons lasts at least a hundred years, guaranteed. Something was strange about these things though. I heard rumors that the creatures could overpower the strongest Goron, but had no real body to speak of, like moving shadows rising from fire. Whatever it could have been, it must have been weird. How have you been anyways? You still call yourselves the Miner Picks?"
"Yeah, that definitely sounds f***ed up, and don't diss the name, it get's respect around here. It's not all roses here either, the Zorans and the Bulbins got into a big fight and now gangs are popping up everywhere. Granted were making some profit from this as well, but there's no respect anymore. These new guys think everythings done with a weapon. The old gangs ruled with fear and dignity and only hurt the disrespectful. They were the best parents this city had. Now stupid punks are everywhere."
"Oh yeah, how is Ruta by the way. I'm definitely excited to stop by her club tonight. She's still the best bartender I've ever met. I'll have to convince her to come serve us. Your not that charming."
Granad's face became more solemn as Dorcon mentioned Ruta."I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. The club's still open, but Ruta died a while back. The Butcher's Guild got her and it wasn't pretty. F***in bulbins. We're gonna make them pay, we're already pushin their territory. Ironhead's gonna get it."
Dorcon had sank in his seat a little deeper at the sound of the news. It wasn't his first friend lost, many of the other races lived shorter lifespans, but having a friend murdered was different. "Just be careful Granad. I know you do well around here, but that's where this life leads. I don't know, I'm not gonna lecture, you're smart, just stay ok. By the way, know of any good heroes around right now? I am actually here to look for some mercenaries to help. Preferably magic in nature, as it seems strength doesn't seem work much."
"Not right now, but I'll keep a look out for you. If you need a place to stay, my place is always open. It's good to see you brother."
Dorcon had gotten up and begun to take his leave. "I'll probably take you up on that offer. I'll see you again. I'm going to be around for a few days or longer probably. See ya Brother."
With that he took back off into the city. He merely wanted to get more acquinted with the changes that had happened since the last time he was there. As usual he met new people and made new friends. He found a few leads that might help him with his quest too.
