DIPLOMACY
CHAPTER1
Solomon Ironshovel was worried. The meeting at the Blue Mountain Gilt hall had broken up with himself having been elected to seek out Torgul Moosesmasher. Torgul the giant was not to be trifled with. Any one who could lay a moose out cold with a single blow from his fist was not to be trifled with, especially when the motive was to simply keep the moose from snacking on Torgul's turnip crop. If Torgul could do that, who knew what he could do to the representative of the dwarves who came to complain about Torgul's cousin Lann.
But...something had to be done. The Blue Mountain miners just couldn't let Lann go around eating people. Not even if it was that jackass, Wearlon Orescomb.It was bad enough when Lann took a rock the size of two dwarves and broke the back of one of the towns ewes and ate it. It was worse when Lann caved in the head of Muriel Southlans prized milk goat and ate it. Muriel was nearly despondent that she'd no longer be able to make her Blue Mountain cheese, and its true that it would be missed from many a village table this next year.
Nevertheless the dwarves weren't ready to go to war with the giants over the two incidents. After all, sheep and goats could be replaced and, in the end, it was Muriel who made her cheese so delicious not her goat. Killing and eating people was another matter altogether. Lann couldn't be allowed to eat people even as stupid as Wearlon. Not even if it meant war with the giant's. It would a foolish dwarf indeed who didn't recognize that such a course of action would be costly for the dwarves. Yet it had nearly come to that.
First, though, it might just be possible to pursuade Lann's cousin Torgul to restrain him. Preferably with strong chains.Since Solomon had actually met Torgul once when he was prospecting on Fletcher's peak for elven mithril and since Solomon remarked at the guild meeting that Torgul seemed congenial enough, Torgul even offering to share his lunch of roast buzzard cold cuts, Solomon was elected to be the dwarves ambassador.
"Serves myself right for opening my mouth," he thought. "On the other hand, I am one of the guilds most eloquent members.But Gretta will not be pleased. Surely she will not."
"Solomon, give me some peace. As if it isn't bad enough you go traipsing all over the mountain looking for giant trouble but you want me to pack you a lunch for two? One that's actually big enough to feed five men. Are you out of your mind? Have you some kind of bet going with Lemus again? An experiment to see if exhaustion kills me before worry?"
In the end though every dwarf knows that it is the nature of some unpleasent things to demand doing and putting them off just makes them more unpleasent. In the end Greta relented. Though she refused to let a dead buzzard into their digs much less cook it.
So the following morning the sun coming up over the trees on broken teeth ridge saw a stoic Greta biting her lip to put on a brave face as Solomon hefted a lunch heavier than his normal prospecting gear (shovel, pick, hammer, chisel, blasting powder and a regular dwarf size lunch big enough for two humans) over his shoulder and set out up the hill towards Tooth Gap.
CHAPTER 2
It was nearly ten when Solomon gazed back from the top of the ridge to see the curling blue smoke from the village filling the valley with a pleasent veil of haze. Another two hours through Tooth Gap, and down into the next valley to Thunderson's Ford. Just a mile beyond that an hour's walk along Wild Cherry Creek would bring him to the edge of Torgul's turnip patch.
Solomon thought of the worried look on Greta's face and shruged off the sense of forebodeing that tried to crawl up the back of his neck. He combed the crumbs of his mid-morning snack (one of Greta's honey rolls) from his beard - after all, a diplomat should look dapper- and shoudered the pack that still contained the vast lunch prepared in hopes of catching Torgul before he ate. A hungry giant was one amenable to persuasion.
Solomons First Principle of diplomacy - negotiate when your counterpart has a full plate.
"Still," he thought as he started down the trail towards the towering stone monoliths of the Incisors, "if I haven't found Torgul by the time I've reached Thunderson's Ford, I'm going to stop and have half a mutton sandwich and one of Greta's strawberry carmel cakes with a pint." As second only to a dwarves taste for ale typically comes a sweet tooth, he was still thinking about Greta's cakes when Tooth Gap came into sight between the two towering Incisors. Strangely, the Gap seemed plugged with something. Solomon squinted a moment before he realized that it was the object of his mission. Torgul himself was pulling a gigantic cart towards him.
Now it can truly be said that dwarves voices are disproportionate to their size. In fact, like the agressiveness of dogs,they may well be inversely proportionate. So , when Solomon let out a "Halloo," down the valley, Solomon was confident that the giant heard him. ( he was first base in the chanters at the town's Hall of the Makers Respect - still George Granitemover's basso- profundo - now there was a Voice!)
"I brought lunch - meanin' to look ye up."
"Hyo, Ironshovel - that you? Brought lunch ye say? What brung ye?"
Knowing full well that initial bargaining positions are crucial in any negotiation, Solomon chose to interpret 'what brung ye' as a question about the lunch rather than his reasons for being there;
"Gretta packed a mess of victuals - all I know for sure is there's at least half a dozen cold mutton sandwichs with persimmon chutney. But that's less'n half of it."
"Mutton ye say? Tas' been a dragon's life since I had me a good slice 'o mutton. What's to drink?"
"Well, see'n as how I did'nt figure to catch ye till I was up past Thunderson's Ford I thought we'd have ourselves cold dipper - now I don't know - got any ideas?
The volume of the shouted conversation dimenished a the two men closed the distance between each other. As Torgul approached Solomon could see that Torgul's cart was full of boulders, each bigger than Solomon was.
"I was goin to take this load of rocks up Coney meadow and build me a coney pen but that can wait. Yes, sir I do have an idea. I have a right fine idea. Can't think of anything better than having a pint or two of Thunderbrew ale with that mutton.
Let me leave my little wagon here an I'll buy ye some 'o the best brew on the whole of Blue Mountain."
Solomon paused for a moment. Torgul was no dummy. Whatever Solomon had come about it would be his advantage to talk in Thunderson's Tavern owned, run, and frequented by the giants in and around Thunderson's Ford. It would be bearding the lion in his den. Still, Thunderbrew was as famous on the mountain as Muriel Southlan's cheese. It could put hair in a man's ears.
"Here, let me help ye with that,"said Torgul grabbing the backpack stuffed with Gretta's lunch in one massive hand thereby dangling Solomon from the straps 'til he could get them off.
"Mutton sandwiches with Thunderbrew. And persimmon chutney! Did your wife make dessert?"
"She always does", grimaced Solomon as he pulled his shoulder back into its socket.
So, with trepedation modified by anticipation the dwarf followed after the giant as he turned back the way he came and strode off purposefully towards Thunderson's Ford.
CHAPTER 3
Solomon had managed to keep the giant within sight for most of the walk to the Ford. It was only for the last ten minutes that he'd lost him. Still it was a bit of a surprise to see Torgul sitting at a table. in the tavern with two untouched pints and the still unopened pack before him. The giant had will. Solomon doubted that he would have been able to wait that patiently with Gretta's food and good ale set before him.
"Well come on thare Ironshovel, them runty little legs of yourn given you trouble? Well come on anyway, my apatite tai'nt gettin any smaller."
It seemed to Solomon as if a hush came over the tavern, as if every ear was listening to his reply.
"'Oxsmasher, we dwarves are tough. We take on two or more of you slow folk all the time - why di you think we invented dwarf tossing anyway?"
Any hush there was disintegrated in howls of laughter. Someone yelled over to their table "Hey Torgul, this'ns under the game warden's size limit, you'll have to throw him back"
Torgul stood up and grabbed Solomon by the collar and sat him down next to him. "Kairn Bearcatcher ya know well I AM the games keeper herebouts. This here's Solomon Ironshovel, boys. He's sought me out with mutton sandwiches and I'm right curious bout what he has to say. Oh, an if any of you try to horn in on this mans lunch all of you just remember he could only bring as much as a dwarves pack can carry."
"No offense Torgul, Yer eatin a fine lunch today. I was jus hopen if ya did throw him back it might be my direction so I could get me some of it," replied the Kairn.
"Yeah sorta like dwarf tossen'.," yelled a third giant and again the room broke up in howls of laughter again.
"Resolve," Solomon thought to himself. "I need as much resolve as Ironfist Giantsbreaker at the battle of Berkney's Pass if I'm to come thru this. Strength alone will seldom win the battle. I need only wait for the right moment."
"Now boys, none 'o that talk. I know factual that the game warden looks mighty stern on dwarf tossin them bein' an endangered species herebouts.
"We leave you to your lunch then, Torgul. From now on I've a mind to call ye Torgul Luckystomach. An a welcome to ye , Ironshovel."
Solomon breathed an inner sigh of relief and thought to himself:
Solomon's Second Principle of Diplomacy - get your opposite laughing.
"Well open er up thar, Solomon. I'm a anxious as a cow three days unmilked to see what yer wife packed yer," Torgul said as he rammed one of the giant size mugs of Thunderbrew into Solomon 's hand and took a kitchen sink sized swallow out of the mug in his other.
Solomon set the mug in front of him long enough to empty the contents of his back pack onto the table and sat back and took a long comfortable draught of his ale. For the next twenty minutes little was said between the two men beyond brief comments between bites as they dug into their tucker. "Them pickled griffion's eggs sure is good." "These spiced liver pies are just about my favorite, Torgul - sure glad Greta packed a couple.""No sir you just can't make a better mutton sandwich than drake toasted oat bread."
Finally the hoard of food on the board had diminished to just two sandwiches, a daintily wrapped smaller mound that was obviously dessert and a large wrapped wedge that was obviously cheese.
"Last two sandwiches are yours and it looks like Greta fixed us a package of grundleberry cake for a sweet finish."
Torgul sat back in he's chair, belched appreciatively, and nodded towards the wedge of cheese with a question on his face,Solomon nodded back."That's part o what I came to find you for," he said cutting off a slice and passing it to the giant. "This is Muriel Southlans' cheese but she won't be makin' any more this year."
Torgul took a bite. "An now we come to it dwarf." He wolfed down the rest of the slice an held hs massive hand out for a second. "Why won't the lady be makin' any more o this mighty fine cheese?"
"It's your cousin Lann. He killed Muriel's goat and ate it.
It was evident that the tavern still had half an ear on their conversation as Solomon disgruntled mutterings including "Lann Loudbellow - Lann the Loon is more like it. "
"That's not the worst of it, Torgul. He ate our mine's metals production accountant, Wearlon Orescomb. Orescomb won't be missed as much as Muriel's goat but we can't just let our citizens be eaten."
"I figured it was something like that, but what do you expect me to do about it? After all he is a giant and my cousin to boot. Can't really see anything to do about it when all he did was et a dwarf that's not much liked."
Torgul's eyes were glued to the package of Grundleberry cake like a cat stalking a mouse. Solomon's eyes were glued to Torgul. "Bless Greta," he thought." I think she's hooked him for me." Solomon sat back in his chair and pulled his tobacco pipe and pouch out. Solomon took his time fiddling with the pipe and tobacco, packing the bowl with an aromatic mixture then repacking it. He waved his tobacco pouch in Torgul's direction but Torgul nodded no, eyes fixed in anticipation of Gretta's desert.
Solomon's Third Principle - always hold something in your bargaining that you know your counterpert wants.
Finally Rocking his chair back from the table and lighting the pipe, he said, "well, we dwarves have got to do something. We just can't let ourselves get eaten.
Chapter 4
It is not clear why goats figure into the affairs of the dwarves so prominently but clearly, they do. Some sociologists have speculated that the root of the affinity lies in the fact that goats and dwarves are both mountain dwellers. Another race might find the popular theory among humans and giants -that it was because the dwarves look so much like goats - to be offensive. The dwarves were not offended. As the great dwarf sage, Tailbeard Deepthinker put it, "It's just a waste of time being offended."
In any case what is clear is that the first war between giants and dwarves was precipitated by a goat. A goat owned by Smit Temperfire ate a pumpkin grown by Hammerfist Rockcrusher. Contrary to popular belief, giants are mostly vegetarian (tho they do have a particular weakness for strong mutton). Rockcrusher prized his pumpkin.
Legend has it that when Rockcrusher sought reparations, 3' 8 '' Temperfire rudely spit in 8 ' 3 '' Ironfist's face. Rockcrusher's road clearing crew took offense to this. They concluded that turnabout was fair play so they ate the goat
War ensued.
The dwarves lost the war. In 1247 the hastily erected fortifications of General of Engineering Steelthumb finally turned back the berserking giants at Kassarole Pass. The war had cost both sides sorely. Many giants and dwarves went to their Valhallas. Others were wounded to deep to ever recover. The dwarves lost three quarters of their lands in the rich Hidden Valley agricultural district. The Temperfire clan lost all the holdings they had. In a generation, no one claimed to be a Temperfire any more.
The giants and the dwarves fought a number of wars over the following millenium. In 3142 Common Era during the Second War of Falling River berserking Colonel Angerhard, doubly enraged at the death of his brother from a dwarf ballista (the giants generally considered the use of projectile weapons cowardly), broke through 700 dwarf infantry to kill Gilt Meister Frugal. It was the only major war in which a dwarf king was killed in battle.
Over the centuries fewer and fewer major victories were won by either side. Slowly the two races had learned that it was better for all to resolve their differences peacably. In the last major war with the dwarves and giants they fought side by side as allies against the Souless and their commander the Legion of Chaos (Legion being the souless commanders first name). The nightmare entity that was the Legion, sometimes male, sometimes female,sometimes one being, sometimes many had only been defeated thru terrible sacrifices by all of Mitera and relations between the two races had been cemented on a friendly basis.
Solomon had acquired a nasty scar over his left eye in the Chaos War while operating the steam seige drill that finally breached the Souless' fortress gaurding the gate thru the Dragon's Spine. It had taken him 3 months of staring into a special violet scrying crystal while Medine Mender applied poltices before he regained his vision in that eye. Torgul's wife had lost an arm when the Souless Sorcerors called a gigantic rock out of the sky onto the city of Denholm utterly destroying it and over a hundred thousand persons.
As Solomon sat puffing his pipe he contemplated the bond between giant and dwarf that had been forged in blood and fire. Although the scar over his eye often itched that was not the reason he reached up to scratch it furiously.
Solomon's Fourth Principle of Diplomacy - always remind them of the reasons for negotiation.
Negotiated settlements were a lot less costly than wars.
It seemed as if half an hour passed with Solomon sitting and puffing his pipe. The bar was strangely hushed in anticipation. Torgul's eyes were fixed to the cake as if to bore a hole inthe package. In actuality it was only a few moments before he tore his eyes away from the cake to fix them just as intently on Solomon.
This was the moment Solomon had been waiting for. This was the moment Solomon had been dreading. It was the moment to bring out his final gambit.
"You know, before her goat was eaten, Muriel said she was considering selling some of her cheese here at the Ford. Said she thought it might do right well here. Said it would give a chance to hire some large folk to build her a stone fence around some of her north pasture and shore up her chiminey 'fore next winter."
Soloman's Fifth Principle of Diplomacy - make the first offer to give away something the adversary wants.
"You're right little feller. Lann has gotten clear outta hand. We can't
let him go around eating our good neighbors."
Murmers of assent were heard around the bar. "Idiot's lot more trouble than he's worth."" Caus'in way too much trouble, he has." "Tain't right havin' the country lookin askin at us." "Bad for trade if you ask me." "We got our reputations to think of." "People going to think we're as bad as those trolls." "I say something has to be done."
Torgul kept his eyes locked on Solomon. "I can't countenance him being put down Solomon. After all, he is my cousin," he said in a clear voice loud enough to be heard by the rest of the bar.
"I've got some ideas on that Torgul. Why don't we talk on them over cake."
Torgul and Solomon both broke out in grins.
Solomon's Sixth Principle - celebrate every agreement.
That evening a worried Greta broke into a relieved smile as she spotted Solomon coming down the hill from tooth gap. He was wearing his stern poker face which always meant good news (one of the reasons she took every opportunity to disuade him from playin cartes). She didn't even mind when he announced that a delegation of dwarves was expected at the Ford in two days and that she would be poviding the refreshments.
So, two days latter a a group of dwarves led by Solomon hammered out an agreement with the group of giants. The hammered out agreement was nailed onto a monstrous boulder that had previously blocked easy passage to one of Muriel's goat pastures and the a group of giants moved it just outside Lan's hovel. The next night after Lan finished his customary evening routine of drink until you passout, dwarf forged steel chain was locked around his ankle and bolted to the rock.
The following morning a bellowing Lan woke to a festival of dwarves and giant's gathered just outside chain's reach around the Penal rock. Musicians competed for the best tune to match Kan's howls. Ale flowed while trade and further diplomatic agreements were discussed. Well before evening all the parties except Lan had agreed to meet at the boulder the following year. Thus was the Great Convocation born based, of course, on Solomon's Sixth Principle of Diplomacy - celebrate every agreement.
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