Upon returning to the village after their success against the ominous black dog and its dire wolf companions, Gustavus relayed the tale of their adventure to the village council. Adara took the paw of the black dog with Mogroith to withdraw and study the signs to see what could be learned. The group also turned over the hides of the dire wolves to the village tanner, to fashion some armor for one of the warriors and a mantle for young Ulfbert, who fancied the prize as a sign of his prowess in battle.
Having no other pressing need for the services of the hunters and warriors, the elders bid them return to their usual labors. The dwarves of Vorn Uhlum would be arriving soon from the northern mountains to conduct their last trade before winter snows made the journey to treacherous. The hunters and woodcutter set about their work with more zeal than usual, hoping to parlay their efforts into some personal items from the dwarves. If the elders were going to send them off on dangerous errands like the matter of the wolves, they would need some better equipment.
After a few busy days of preparations in the villages, the unmistakeable chanting and drums of the dwarves could be heard approaching the village. Everyone assembled in the village square and along the northern road out of town to see the procession. Wagons laden with metal ingots and ores rolled into the village, accompanied by half a dozen armored dwarves. Merchants rode with the drovers on the wagons, dressed in the robes of their caste. The last wagon was a mobile smithy, complete with anvil and tools, driven by a craftsmen looking to ply his trade.
Over the next few days, the dwarves conducted their trade, feasted, and told tales of the increasing audacity of the goblins that routinely assailed their holds in the mountains. They seemed unsurprised by the news that the wolves had grown bolder in the woods, or even by the tale of the fearsome black dog…the merchants spoke of things creeping up from the deepest reaches underground — monsters unseen for generations that were beginning to appear in the remote fringes of their underground domain.
To take the edge off of their grim tidings from the mountains, the dwarves unloaded several casks of the finest dwarven ale for the feasting, and sang songs and told stories of brave warriors triumphant beneath the mountain. On the last night of feasts, the leader of the caravan, the merchant Badru Khorbek, thanked the humans for the hospitality and pledged continued trade between their peoples. The following morning, the entire village turned out again to see the dwarves off as their wagons rolled north, laden with food and cloth from Keflavik.