With the first rays of the sun, he woke up and went down to the pub for breakfast, which consisted of a buttered bread with ham and a jug of milk. The innkeeper Boris kept him company. When the Wanderer noticed that he was the only one in the Pub, he thanked Boris again for the bread and milk.

  "So, Mr. Sturm, what are you planning to do now that you know that a dragon is sleeping on your Ruins?" Boris asked curiously. "Well, I plan to try my luck with the dragon. After all, his kind is not without sense. Perhaps I can make a deal with him," he answered between two bites of ham sandwich.

  The innkeeper then answered him with a serious expression: "Now please listen to me carefully, Mr. Sturm. You seem to be a nice and sensible man and it would be a shame if the first new visitor in years ended up as dragon food. Just forget about the dwarves. Stay here a little longer or if you absolutely have to travel, then visit our neighboring towns. On the way there you will at least only be robbed by the dragon's people and not roasted by the Beast itself."

  Enough people have forgotten the dwarves, thought the wanderer and suppressed a sigh before he answered. "Did you know, my friend, that dragons roast their prey after death, if at all? Normally they devour smaller prey raw. They kill larger ones with their teeth and claws and then roast them with smaller and very controlled blasts of flame. Now you see, the bigger the blast of flame, the more strenuous it is for the dragon and from a dragon's point of view it would be a bit excessive to use such a powerful weapon against a human who it could kill with a flick of its tail.

  No, believe me, if a dragon creates a firestorm as powerful as the one in the stories, it must have its reasons for doing so. You remember, I know a little about dragons because of my time with the genies,” he added quickly when he saw the innkeeper’s confused eyes. “So if I later see a huge burst of flames or something like that from the mountain, does that mean that you made it angry?” the innkeeper asked him dryly. “Exactly, my good man,” answered the Wanderer, who had just finished his breakfast. Either that or because he’s scared, he added to himself.

  After saying goodbye to the innkeeper and paying for both his meal and his stay, he set off through the city, towards the North Gate and thus towards the mountain. When he walked across the square, it was still early in the morning and some people were already setting up their stalls. Unfortunately for the hiker, the statues at the fountain had not yet started spitting water. It's a pity I didn't see that, he thought to himself somewhat nostalgically as he walked across the square, ignoring the people's furtive glances following him. After all, most of them were more curious than suspicious.

  On his way to the northern exit of the city, he encountered very few people. Not only due to the early hour he suspected. Part of him regretted that, but on the other hand, every person he talked to was an unnecessary threat to his cover, as he had noticed from his conversation with Boris and Ivar yesterday. I guess I don't know as much about the world as I thought. One more reason to travel more often, he thought and continued his way through the city. All the while trying his best to not think about the looming conversation he would have with his siblings about responsibility.

  Eventually he reached the north gate, to his satisfaction without getting lost, something he had managed to do in smaller towns than Schlucht. When he saw the guards, he finally understood what Ivar had meant when he said he was the only member of the city guard. This statement had surprised the wanderer at first, since Schlucht was too big for a single guard in his opinion, but the men in front of him probably couldn't be called guards. It started with the fact that they didn't even have any beard growth to speak of, and ended with them both sleeping on chairs that they had set up near the gate they were supposed to watch over.

  This left the Wanderer with the problem of whether he should wake them up to open the gate or just take the key dangling from the hip of one of the snoring Guardsmen. To be on the safe side, he decided to wake the young man up, who opened his eyes in displeasure and stood up abruptly when he saw the stranger in front of him. Because he stood up so quickly, the young gatekeeper seemed to struggle for his balance for a moment, but eventually caught himself.

  "Isn't it a bit early for a walk in the forest stranger?" asked the guard sullenly and added with a sigh: "I dreamed that I was chasing a beautiful fairy through her magical forest." Then I must have woken you from a terrible nightmare, the Wanderer thought with a grin.

  "I'm sorry, you can go back to your fairy forest as soon as you open the gate for me," he said to the sleepy Gatekeeper. "By the way, the gates of most villages that I know are guarded, but open during the day," he added. "Schlucht is not like most villages, nobody comes here anyway except the dragon's goons, and if they come, we want to have at least a little control about their coming and going. Besides, you can hardly call it daytime this early," the guard explained grumpily. At least the Wanderer thought that was what he said, as the would-be guard's words were interrupted by several yawns.

  "Yes, Ivar has already told me about them, they don't seem to be very popular here," he answered. "When you go out there, you can soon ask them why that is," said the guard as he worked on the gate. "But that's not my problem," and with these words the boy opened the gate's passage for people and waved him through.

  The Wanderer walked through the door and immediately heard it slam shut behind him, as well as the sound of a lock clicking into place. When I have time soon, I must find out what the people here imagine fairies and their forests to be like, he thought, shuddering slightly at the thought of the Fairies, and set off towards the mountain.

  The path became increasingly steeper and if the vegetation had previously been sparse, it had now almost completely disappeared. On the way to the huge rock there are only smaller rocks and wind, a wonderful whistling wind, he thought contentedly as he continued towards the mountain, whistling happily to himself.

  Eventually he got high enough to see the gate to the old mountain fortress, which looked so massive that almost the entire side of the mountain in front of him seemed to be part of it. Dwarves may be small, but they think big, he thought in awe as he saw it. He tried to imagine what the opening mechanism for such a gate would look like, but eventually gave upon that and concentrated instead on the decoration of the gate.

  He could easily make out the details of the massive gate, even from hundreds of yards away. Ironically, he noticed, the gate was emblazoned with a picture of a dwarven fortress battling a dragon. The dwarves in this image appeared to have snatched their Foe from the Sky with massive ballistae and chain missiles, and then circled and killed it on the ground. I wonder if the battle depicted on the gate took place here. If so, it's even more bitter that a dragon has now taken over their fortress without a fight, he thought somewhat grumpily.

  Thinking about the dragon, he took a closer look at the mountain in front of him. As far as he could see, there was no opening in the mountain on this side that was big enough to let a dragon in. He suspected that it was probably on the other side and a little further up the mountain, making it more difficult for the poor non-flyers of this world to reach. The Wanderer, however, did not feel the need to make a detour to this theoretical opening. Firstly, because it would take him too long, and secondly because he would rather not walk straight into the dragon's mouth. How do I get in here now? he asked himself, looking around somewhat lost.

  "Stop, wanderer! I suspect you are new in the area, which is why I assume you have not yet paid our generous Lords toll," he suddenly heard a voice behind him. He quickly turned around and saw a group of six people standing behind him, three of whom had their bows pointed at him. "You are the dragon's men, aren't you? Very pleased, I have heard of you, my name is Stephan Sturm," he introduced himself politely.

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  The self-appointed tax collectors looked at each other, somewhat confused by his friendly and, above all, fearless introduction. One of them, the wanderer, thought he was the leader of the gang pulled himself together and replied with equally but obviously feigned politeness: "Well, our reputation precedes us. So, Mr. Storm, in my capacity as an official of His Majesty Stormbringer, I must now ask you to pay the toll, which, by the way, consists of all the valuables you are currently carrying with you."

  "That's right, I'm not from here, I'm a scholar from Auros and I'm here because I'm interested in the local dwarven ruins. Do you happen to know a way in?" he asked, demonstratively ignoring the demands of the man in front of him, which resulted in a collective laugh from the robbers.

  "Yes, we actually know an entrance. My colleagues and I have set up home there and run our business from there and you, my good man, still haven't paid the toll for entering our Lieges land," said the bandit from before, now with a broad grin on his face. "I definitely didn't want to upset your liege lord," said the wanderer and took his purse of coins from the pocket of his coat and handed it to the spokesman of the so-called officials. He took it with a smile and examined the contents with satisfaction before turning back to him.

  "A well-traveled scholar such as you are is surely a valuable member of the scientific community, isn't he, Mr. Sturm?" the bandit asked innocently. This is the opportunity! The wanderer thought excitedly and replied: "I don't want to praise myself, but yes, there was a reason why I was chosen for this journey." "Well in that case, you are welcome to accompany us to our base of operations, my learned friend. I am sure what you find there will captivate you for a long time. While you are examining the ruins there, we will send a message to your people to make a deal, let's say, between our lord and your employers regarding the future of your research here," the bandit leader said, almost managing to hide the fact that he had just kidnapped him and was planning to extort ransom from his nonexistent employers.

  That's fine with me, the Wanderer thought to himself. "That sounds like a fair offer," he replied kindly. His new companions then led him onto a trail that ran along the side of the mountain and past its main gate. The wanderer had to refrain from whistling happily again; the meeting with the bandits had made things a lot easier for him. As they walked along the trail, he took the time to look more closely at his new companions.

  They all seemed to be wearing proper leather armor and even had proper leather helmets and even some made of steel. Their bows also seemed to have been made by someone who knew what they were doing, and he had no doubt that the same was true of the daggers and swords they carried at their sides. In any case, they were equipped like a Lords tax collectors .

  It seems important to the dragon that his people are well equipped, I'm afraid crime pays after all, that is, until now he thought, unable to hide a slight grin. Fortunately for him, his grin did not seem to have attracted the attention of any of the bandits. A hostage grinning to himself could lead to questions.

  Come to think of it, these bandits were generally a little careless. For one thing, they were leading him to their hideout without blindfolding or drugging him. And for another, they thought he was a scholar from Auros, the capital of the djinns. Blackmailing them could be quite risky for a simple group of local bandits. But having a dragon on your side can be a real confidence boost, he thought as he continued to follow his captors.

  After a while they finally stopped at a rock wall that had depressions in several places. One of the bandits finally stepped forward and pulled a small stone out of his pocket. As far as he could see, it wasn't a gemstone, but a dwarven rune seemed to be carved into it. The bandit then held this rune stone in one of the depressions, destroying the original natural impression of it.

  Although he could not read dwarven runes, he suspected that it must have meant something like "open" or "key", because when the stone was pushed into the depression, the rock wall suddenly moved, and the edges of the depression closed around the runestone and seemed to hold it in place.

  After a few moments, the rock at the depression retracted and released the stone, whereupon the bandit caught it and put it back in his pocket.

  Since they were all still standing in front of the rock Wall, he was about to ask if their door was broken when suddenly a straight crack started to run through the Wall. When the crack in the wall now ran from the ground to the tips of his hair, it finally ended. The crack split in two, and now two parts of the Wall slammed inwards into the mountain like two gates, leaving an opening wide enough for three people to walk in side by side.

  With dwarves, you never know if it was magic, engineering or both, he thought, impressed, as he followed his captors into the mountain. "At least you get something for your money, Professor," he heard one of his captors say. "Yes, that really is very impressive," was all he could manage to say, and he really meant it. He doubted that any of the bandits would have been able to get this mechanism working again, so it must have been the dragon.

  It's unusual for a dragon to be involved in something like that. But it seems to have paid off for him, he thought as he looked around.

  The cave they were walking through seemed to have originally been one of the dwarven mines, but the dragon's men had apparently converted it into their camp. As they walked through the mine, which was lit by glow weed and countless torches, he noticed that many parts of the mine were still buried under rubble.

  He could see that several paths branching off from the main passage ended in large piles of rock. He also saw Dwarven runes on the walls behind some of those piles and again wished he could read them. The current inhabitants of this mine also seemed to find these important, as they seemed to be trying to remove the rocks from the rune-marked walls.

  They probably hope to find some dwarves, treasures, or even weapons behind it. Idiots, as if the dwarves would leave something like that behind, and if they did, it certainly wouldn't be behind a few rocks in one of their mines, he thought disparagingly. They seemed to be making little progress with their excavation anyway. From what he could see, many of these rocks seemed to have somehow fused together, making it difficult to remove them individually.

  The fact that the men who were hacking at these rocks with pickaxes were in such poor condition probably didn't help the excavation either. Beneath their tattered rags, their emaciated bodies were easily recognizable. These must be the ones who couldn't pay their dragon tax, he thought angrily.

  Each of these work parties was guarded by a few of the dragon's men. They were easy to spot. Like the squad that had captured him, the men and women here were clearly wearing equipment that was far too good for ordinary bandits. However, ordinary bandits did not have camps in old dwarven mines either. He also counted several dozens of them, which was also a fairly large number for bandits, especially since he did not know how many were on the move at any given time.

  Eventually they came to a central chamber in the mine. It was lit by several torches and covered with fur-lined sleeping bags.

  Now the supposed leader of his kidnappers turned back to him and said: "You will be able to enjoy our hospitality for a while. Even with falcon mail, it will take a few weeks to send a message to Auros, so..." he didn't get any further when the wanderer interrupted him. "If I'm going to take advantage of your hospitality, I think it's only fair that I pay my respects to the ruler of these lands. Where exactly can I find his majesty?" he asked curiously.

  The bandit looked at him for a while as if he had lost his mind, but then grimaced and replied: "Our liege lord is currently taking a little nap in the halls above us. He is very annoyed when he is woken, but I assure you, you will meet him soon enough." The wanderer looked around the chamber a bit and finally found what looked like a cabin with a rope attached to the roof.

  He searched for a while for the right word in the human language, elevator, yes, I think that's it, he remembered contentedly. He turned to the bandit again: "This elevator leads to him, doesn't it?" he asked innocently.

  "Yes, it does, you know, that reminds me, I was so distracted by accepting your toll and so surprised by your cooperative nature that I completely forgot to search you, could it be that you only handed over the toll we were owed so quickly because you wanted to hide something even more valuable?" the bandit asked him with a threatening grin on his face.

  The wanderer thought briefly of the trump card he kept in his pocket. "Um, no," he said, feigning innocence. Now he also noticed how, during his conversation, some of the other bandits had approached him from behind and from the sides. "I think we'd better play it safe. Search him, guys," called the bandit in front of him.

  Okay, searching is going too far, he thought and sighed.

  A few floors up, a dragon was rudely awakened from his sleep by a loud howling sound. A sound that reminded him of the wind, seemed to be coming from the mines, he noted angrily. Can't you just lie down for two weeks in peace, the dragon thought angrily. He sat up slightly and shook his head lazily, thinking how he would punish his servants for the noise.