As Angel approached the Great Mountains, in which lie Dovan, Home of the Dwarves, he felt uneasy and tried to brush off the fact that he could be killed by cannon fire at any moment. The keep was nestled in the face of a cliff, the only path to it being a treacherous climb up the purely vertical slopes of the cliff. The black smoke of industry and buildings of silver and gold characterised Dovan; Dwarves only cared about guns and money. Dwarves, with their short legs, could not hope to scale the cliff. However, they had the advantage of superior technology and could burrow through the mountains. Angel sighed as he dismounted from his horse and begun the climb.
Even with his superhuman strength, the climb proved tortuous, and when he was done, he was a heaving pile on the floor.
“What’s a human doing here? You are far from Asgard, friend,” the dwarf guards noted, helping Angel up.
“I … need to see … Maximus now,” Angel heaved, catching his breath.
The guards looked at each other, baffled at that suggestion.
” Well, we could let you see Maximus, but he told us that anyone that wants to see him has to pass through a few trials to determine their worth. First, a generous donation of 1000 gold coins. Second, a marksmanship test. Lastly, a brawl with 10 guards. Most people die by then. You wanna give it a try?” The guard inquired.
Angel sighed. He did not have any cash on hand. Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to mind. He threw his old sword, as well as a flask of ichor to the dwarf. The dwarf gingerly catches the items, unsure what they were for.
“The sword is worth 200 gold coins. The ichor blood is a rare commodity, worth well more than 1000 gold coins. I think that should cover my costs.” Angel declared, and the dwarf guards nodded, happy with the tribute.
“As for marksmanship…” Angel quickly drew the dwarven guard’s gun and shot into the air. Instantaneously, a bird fly about a kilometre away felt to its death. Impressed, the guards clapped their hands in a thunderous applause.
10 guards surrounded Angel. This would be an easy fight. With his supernatural speed and strength, fighting these dwarves were like fighting children in the playground. He deftly dodges their swings, sending them flying with a single punch. Before long, 10 guards had to be sent to the infirmary for severe injuries.
As Angel stepped into the golden-plated palace, he bowed his head in respect. He quickly explained the situation to Maximus, a grumpy old dwarf with over a hundred years of war experience.
“Angel, you know we don’t Ward. We prefer our technology to all these hocus-pocus. I mean, I can help you in your fight, but don’t expect us to draw those so-called Attack Wards on our weapons.” Maximus replied, measuring his words carefully.
Angel sighed and replied, “Fine. We can have some of the Elves help you Ward your ammunitions and weapons. Just be there when the fight comes.”
With that, all the factions are united. Angel mounted onto Pearly’s back and rode with all haste towards Asgard.