said. “We have to get back to our mine. Best of luck to you.”
The Dwarves departed, going back up the way they came. Remliel took a deep breath and walked down the hall. She descended a flight of stairs, followed a few twists in the hall, and climbed down yet another flight of stairs until she came to the City. The arch over the entrance read, in Dwarvish, “The City, the Lifegiver of the Dwarves, our Royal Hideout.”
Remliel entered the city and looked in awe at what she saw. The ceiling was hundreds of feet in the air, with rainbow colored stalactites hanging from the roof of the cave. There were magnificent buildings made of clay, gravel paths and streets, and a shiny structure larger than the rest built into the back wall of the City.
The Dwarves, Remleil observed, were all full of hair, in order to keep them warm under the cold mountain. The men had great beards that reached the tops of their protruding bellies, and the women had long hair that seemed to wrap itself around their faces like beards. They all wore thick, leather and fur jackets that reached their ankles, some of which were tied shut, but others hung open to reveal their brown, black, or white colored tunics, and black pants that were neatly tucked into black boots.
The Archangel led her horse through the main street of the Dwarvish kingdom, looking down at the shorter race that surrounded her. They looked up at her and her horse both in awe and in fear. The crowd of people parted for her as she made her way to the back wall, toward the shining building.
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