Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 97 Spring Festival Special Chapter Badin's Smoke

The Gray Mountains, the new fortress of the dwarves, although it was built as long as the human empire, is still "new" to the dwarves, a race with a long history.

In the forest near the Ax Bite Pass, a dwarf, Mr. Badin, is reading the letter in his hand.

The house was not big, it was made of wood, and it was hidden in the woods. Badin had his legs crossed and wore rough leather clothes, even though the rough leather clothes were like silk to the skin of a dwarf.

There are crossbows in the room, and there are even shields, one-handed axes or hammers. Badin also has a small workshop of his own, where he can create his favorite things.

And what he is most proud of, and what makes him most happy, is the clip shelf full of goblin teeth and ears, which is the proof of his honor and fun, and it is also his few entertainment.

But even so, a dwarf ranger is lonely. For the dwarves in the clan, in the guild, and under the mountains, a day's activities can be spent in trivial matters among companions, and Bardin can only complain. The dwarves who provided supplies came too late!
But Bardin also has his own responsibilities. The ranger is the eyes of the mountains. Without him, the greenskins will go deep into the mountains.

He flipped through the letters, complaining. "Guild nonsense, nonsense... nonsense..." Badin grew impatient until he saw a human letter from Palaom.

"Human?" He opened the light yellow envelope in surprise. This thing has traveled a long distance for a month before crossing the whole of Bretonnia. , a golden crown and a letter fell out, Badin picked it up and looked at it.

"Respected Master Dwarf, I am the second son of the Barton knight family. I want to ask you for advice..." Barabara, a long section of Barabara, gave a brief overview of how he was defeated by a powerful man, Bardin It's one of the few fun times, but Badin didn't expect that what he asked to build was actually...

Pitchfork?
Bardin is not a fool, nor is he a real dwarf blacksmith, he just works in the mountains, not under the mountains, but in the forest, but for humans, Bardin is undoubtedly a master blacksmith.

And he did help humans build, but...pitchforks?

He has molded armor, tomahawk, and all the weapons you can think of. Bardin rubbed his beard and couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Hahaha…"

I thought of something again, picked up the paper and pen, and wrote it down on the white paper.

"My hard-working uncle, my lovely daughter, life in Black Rock Fortress should be good, right? I am also interesting in the forest. The winter solstice has passed, and the year will turn. This is not my first year in Badin, but I have received Funniest gift ever."

"That's the story of a Bretonnian farmer..." A story continued, and Bardin's writing style was funny and humorous, and he wrote his own name on the signature, Dwarf Ranger, Bardin.

It took half a week for the letter from home to arrive in the mountains, and the dwarves were having a banquet to celebrate the birthday of a living ancestor who was born some time after the winter solstice, which is also the day that this year alternates with the next.

Everyone called him Iron Hammer Xi, and because he got rid of the evil beasts entrenched in the mountains, everyone liked to call him "New Year's Eve".

And today is the 2023rd birthday of this undead dwarf. He has experienced war, witnessed honor and weakness, and even forged runes. He also made beer under the famous dwarf Mr. Bergman. Excellent for Black Rock Keep.

But his long life made him tired of many boring things. Even though he was rich in knowledge, the mountains were full of treasures, and the gold was shining brightly. At this moment, the hall of the dwarven fortress was also brightly lit, and several major guilds respected him.

But oil lamp and light, ale and roast meat, iron or hammer, he has experienced it a thousand times, even if he is interested in gold, he is indifferent because of his rich wealth, envy, and slander is also tired of hearing, because he is in the king There is enough reputation in front of you.

But he hasn't gone out for a hundred years. He is very aware of the dangers of the mountains, but he really doesn't feel the joy of his youth anymore.

The long, low beard is carefully braided and decorated like a work of art, surprising visitors.

Hammer. New Year's Eve just pushed away the last box of gold, and it was sent by a beautiful child, an underage female dwarf lady, but the living ancestor still yawned, and the silver armor all over his body was exposed under the oil lamp. bright.

"My child...ha~" He yawned long, looking sleepy. "Any pleasure to share with me?"

The girl obviously never thought that she would be greeted by the living ancestor, her round cheeks were flushed, and she couldn't hold back the story.

The boss of the guild was even more impatient than her, wishing that he was the one the ancestor asked. Fortunately, the dwarf next to him was smart and tactfully answered.

"Among the mountains, under the mines, deeper than the center of the earth, older than the mountains, Ancestor Xi killed wild beasts and protected us."

The ancestor even yawned again and again. When he felt that this year was nothing more than this, the speechless dwarf girl opened her mouth.

"My lord, my father sent me a human story, and it was a...farmer's story."

The old ancestor raised his head and said. "Say it, say it."

The girl muttered slowly. "The kingdom of mankind, the hometown of knights, Bretonnia, blessed by the lake god, bestowed by the gods, gentle, respectful and thrifty, the country is peaceful and the people are safe."

"Born here, one person is extraordinary..."

When Boldero's peasant story was presented to the dwarves, to be honest, it wasn't exciting enough, and it didn't have ups and downs, it was just the struggle and ridiculousness of a small character.

But the old ancestor had heard enough of those intense, happy, or sad things, and he naturally felt fresh, for Bretonnia, for this person.

When the girl finished speaking and emphasized that this was what his father, Badin, had seen and heard, the living ancestor spoke.

"prize!"

In the gray mountains, Badin is quenching the heat. When the head of the pitchfork is finished, he has to study how to sharpen the blade to make it more powerful.

He wiped his brow and sighed again as he realized his ale had been emptied and his ration for this year had just arrived.

Badin rubbed his stomach. "Did I drink too much?"

At this moment, because the dwarf postman didn't want to climb the ladder of Badin's tree house, he violently threw the package in from below and smashed it into the window. pen!

"Oops! What?!"

Badin looked at the postman going away, cursing, but he untied the box immediately, and put bottles of beautiful, tightly wrapped ale beer inside, brewed by living ancestors!
Badin's eyes straightened, and he saw the letter on the box again.

"Father, I told your story at the banquet..."

As Bardeen sat on the beer, picked up a bottle, and drank and watched what happened, he suddenly realized that he owed the farmer named Roel a debt.

Doesn't he like gunpowder?

Bardin picked up the recipe for the dwarven ranger's smoke bomb and copied it down. Anyway, the barbarians in Bretonnia didn't like gunpowder, and he wasn't worried about the dwarven recipe being revealed.

"Son of a knight, I am Badin the dwarf. Your story has helped me. I hope you can help me repay which knight..."

Badin licked the nib of the pen, wet it a bit before continuing to write.

After a while, the letters in front of Badin were full, and he muttered.

"Ten grams of macaque whiskers... that's it."

And drop a letter and pitchfork's head into the nearest human post office...

Bardin said to himself. "Hope that bad boy likes my gift."

　happy new year's eve

　　Though I only look forward to rotting in the dirt 'cause I'm "fruit"

　　
　
(End of this chapter)