The Longest Journey - A shroomy Heaven

Vitugár was cared for. He got a new pair of boots, he got his robe fixed, his clothes washed and repaired and at the end of the day he was fed, tipsy due to a lot of strong, malty beer and sleepy.

Right now he sorted the new tools he got. He also got new ink made from the Grey Everleaf, which was a thick liquid, flowed really well, had a really dark black-green colour and smelled like moss. Which was interesting enough. He also got a new writing pen made out of rainbow stained glass and he loved it from the spot.

In the morning he had the appointment with the leader of the Pebblekin clan, a female dwarf with the name of Irdrá. Apparently her family moved from the Copperkin clan to the Pebblekin clan or at least they retained the same naming conventions from the original Stonekin clan.

At the moment he was half asleep, the other dwarf snoring gently at his side. She was cute, her beard braided and smelled good and she could drink a lot. It was a long time ago he had company, so he enjoyed it as much as he could.

The next morning came to soon for him. He had a bit of a headache and nausea, but that was fine, he chugged down a tankard of beer again and was already feeling better. His company from last night sat in the bed, grinning like a lovely idiot in all of her unclothed beauty and she kissed him goodbye for now. Depending on the outcome of the meeting they would see each other again sooner than later or probably never again.

Armed guards in chainmail armour picked him up to bring him to Irdrá. The meeting room was more of a hall and the throne was empty. What he gathered was that the Pebblekin didn't have a king or a queen, just a leader. The throne should remind them of the old times as a warning.

Irdrá was already giving orders, pointing at various points on a map in front of her on the desk. The entire hall was black stone, some of it black marble and some of it just the stone of the volcano. There were a few gold veins meandering through the stone, but the dwarf couldn't say if they were naturally or brought in artifically to give the eye something different than just black stone.

It was warm in here and crystals emitted a faint, orange light which was reflected by polished copper shields and lit up the entire hall.

"Ma Irdrá." said Vitugár and bowed a bit. Couldn't hurt to be polite. "Thank ya for meeting with me. Do ya people said what me want from ya?"

"Nah." grumbled the female dwarf and her eyes lit up like glowing coals. She wore plant-based clothes under a leather-based tunic, her small handaxe looked sharp and well-worn. "Sumtin' about 'shrooms?"

"Ja." He brought out his pipe. "Do ya mind?"

"Nah."

"Good." He lit up the prepared pipe and blew the cinnamon-clove-cherry smoke to the ceiling. He could see that she liked the smell. "Me is a Formulist, ya see. A client paid me to create a book about 'shrooms and me is the sorry soul to write them down. Ya Grey Everleaf is the next stop on ma journey."

"And whaddaya want from us?" Irdrá leaned against the table. "Information? Seeds? Recipes?"

"Me don't mind seeds, but me want to write about them, draw them and have their use cases. Including recipes. For this me seeks ya approval, maybe provisions, a room and a bit of time."

"And if me isn't giving ya anythin' of this?" She wasn't in the best mood it seems.

"Nothing?" Vitugár shrugged. "Me is a Formulist, not a warrior or anything else. Me can ask politely, me can ask with pressure, but thats it. If ya don't want me to look at ya shrooms, me will have a hearty meal and be on me way."

"Hm hm." Irdrá nodded. "It is just documentation?"

"Nothing more, nothing less. We don't wanna ya seeds or ya shrooms for our benefit, me don't have any hidden agenda. If ya wanna give me some seeds or entire colonies, me is grateful and will go in peace. If ya don't wanna give me seeds or colonies, it is fine too and me is going in peace as well. It is not honourable to steal anything, especially not for this glorious cause."

"Yathinks?"

"Methinks."

"Ya might be right." She grabbed his pipe out of his hand, took a long draw and exhaled it with a big smile. "A'right, ya got yaself loggings, meals and what ya need. Imma get ya a guide to one of our fields. Well, the wonder of our fields, if me can say that."

"How's that?"

"Ya'll see." And that was the first time he saw Irdrá smiling. She was kind of beautiful in her own way.

~~

Fredrá was the name of the guide Irdrá provided for Vitugár. Not too cheerful for a dwarf, but at least he wasn't grumpy all the time. He talked a bit about the challenges the Pebblekin clan had and still has to face, making a living in a semi-active volcano.

It was getting hotter the deeper they ventured. Of course, the volcano was still brewing and through some cracks they could see the molten magma deep below.

Vitugár was sweating. He was used to the heat of the forge and the heat of Pisocenia, but never before was he so deep as they were now.

How long did they walk? At least two hours? But it wasn't before long the tunnel ended and they found themselves in front of some kind of store or gathering party. A few dwarves were repairing and crafting new baskets. They nodded to Fredrá, but didn't speak or rather, din't stop to sing. There was honour in songs as well.

In front of Fredrá and Vitugár was an entrance. It was well lit, but only a few meters, because after that the tunnel was illuminated by a strange blue glimmer.

"Don'tcha worry.", grinned Fredrá as he saw the face of Vitugár. "That's just our shroomies."

"The Everleaf glows?" he asked. Vitugár didn't have a memory of a glimmer emitted by the shrooms on the surface.

"Only down here. Ya wanna study them and not collect?"

"Maybe one or two."

"Then ya should fetch one of those." Fredrá grabbed two small baskets, not larger than the head of a dwarf. "Better for transport."

"But wouldn't Irdrá be a bit angry about it?"

"Of what? If ya grab two of our shrooms? Ha!" The guide exclaimed and laughed. "She can certainly try, there are a lot of shrooms and before yo can even pull down ya pants they have regrown. This is just political drama."

"Me see."

Fredrá guided Vitugár throught the really short tunnel and then into a cave. More like a cavern or a hollow mountain. The Pebblekin dwarves had crafted a lot of frames to hang them onto the walls and from the ceiling. The Grey Everleaf covered the ceiling, the walls, and every free square on the rocky ground. The scent of fresh mint with a pinch of thyme overwhelmed Vitugár and he blinked a few times to clear his mind.

"Yeah, it can be a bit much.", grinned his guide. "So, ma Vitugár, whad do ya wanna know?"

"Everything."

"That is quite a lot. Do ya have time?"

Vitugár chuckled. "Me is a Formulist, of course me has time."

"A'right. Where to start... okay, the Grey Everleaf consists... me waits." said Fredrá as Vitugár pulled out the large tome, spare paper, his ink and the stained glass writing pen, before he continued. "Consists of colonies, as me said. Normal are shrooms of six, sometimes they have four, others might have ten shrooms per colony.

Ya can argue that the shrooms are intelligent, but they do share a braincell, if me is allowed to say that. In some ways it certainly looks like they talk with each other what to do next."

"How can ya tell?"

"Follow."

Fredrá guided Vitugár through the field of glowing mushrooms which smelled overwhelming after mint and thyme. Normally not a bad smell, but in this amount and concentration it was similar like a fist to the face.

"Here, look at them doofus." Fredrá pointed out a colony of Grey Everleaf. They had seven mushrooms in a colony and all seven of them were leaning their hats into the middle of the knotwork. "Me not know what they're discussing, but me don't wanna know, to be honest."

"Me see." Vitugár wrote as fas as he could, pulled out a pencil and scribbled the picture on a spare page, then drew a single mushroom with a bit of knotwork directly beside it. "And why does it grow only here and on the surface?"

"Because this cavern is one of a kind." Fredrá pointed at a faint orange glimmer in the distance. "It has the right amount of nutrition due to the ground and the magma. It has the right amount of sulphur in the air and the right temperature. The ecosystem is not repicable, do trust me, we tried quite a few times."

Fredrá grinned and Vitugár trusted him. So the Grey Everleaf cavern was a natural wonder in itself.