Chapter 45: What one needs
"I greet you in peace, noble sons of stone and steel. May our words be as strong as iron." KiRA began with a respectful greeting, talking in an accent similar to the dwarves before him. "A mighty honor it is, to stand before ye who've found rest in this paradise o' peace."
The way KiRA spoke surprised both the dwarves instantly.
His way of speaking, the accent and the dialect, it almost seemed like he was one of them instead of being a foreigner, much less a human.
"I am called KiRA, a child of men from distant soils. By fate's hand, I found a sigil carved by Sirius, a master of craft. With no small struggle I reached this hallowed tomb. And though tales told of the mighty Green-Eyed Tribe, 'tis a heavy grief to behold your elders thus."
It might sound like KiRA had practised saying all those things in advance, however to the dwarves hearing this directly, this seemed as natural as it could be.
The two dwarven elders were even suspicious of him at first, however, when KiRA called out their predecessor's name, they started seeing him in a completely new light.
"Though I am but a recent climber of the Tower, having only just begun my ascent, I was fortunate enough to discover this mausoleum. The sigil I found held vast knowledge of your people, and through it, I came to understand much. After reading the diary of the Lime elder, I could piece together what might have occurred here."
This time, KiRA used the human tone, indicating he was in fact a human of human blood.
The sigil of their ancestor that he was talking about must have been one of the relics left behind in the outside world by him.
The stories of the preparedness of their ancestors was no stranger to any of the elders. They had grown up hearing stories of how the great forefathers used to be craftsmen of gods who foresaw things that not even the prophets could predict.
"From what I gathered in them writings, it seems the spawn o' Ouroboros breached yer floor and spilled venom 'pon yer kin.