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TWL Chapter 341: Lost Sons of Mahakam
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 22:40:25 +0000 UTC“They’re not here to welcome us, that’s for sure,” Petrit said firmly. “Not even the Elder in Chief would get this kind of reception. But I think I know why they’re gathered... If my calculations are right...”
Geralt lowered his head and whispered to Gabor, “If we went back to Cintra, we might see something like this.”
“Can’t wait...” Gabor muttered weakly, his energy drained. “But Petrit must have figured it out already. He knows why our brothers and sisters are all here.”
“Today’s the day the kids who left for their journeys return home,” Petrit explained. “Their children, their siblings... They’re supposed to be back today. Their families want them to feel at home the moment they arrive because...”
Gabor, who had once been one of those wandering dwarves, sighed heavily, his voice carrying the exhaustion of experience. “Because out there... it never truly feels like home.”
Dwarves, upon reaching adulthood at fifty-five, are given their first opportunity to leave Mahakam. But if they fail to return within the allotted time, they’re forever banned from coming back.
By now, many young dwarves, unable to handle human society, would have come running back, sobbing in their parents’ arms.
But this year...
“Something’s wrong,” Petrit frowned as he counted the expectant dwarves. “The kids from the Ferenc Clan who came of age last year should match this number. And yet... not a single one is back?”
Lann furrowed his brow as well. This dwarven town was small, its low buildings making it easy to see across. And yet, he didn’t spot anyone standing out as noticeably taller than the rest.
Previously, to speed up the monster-clearing efforts in Mahakam, Lann had split his forces into three. The ones assigned to the Ferenc Clan were led by Kolgrim and Milva, accompanied by a unit of Cintran cavalry. But now, amidst the throng of dwarves in the Hag’s Pit, there was no sign of any 'long-legged humans'.
The arrival of Lann's group quickly caught the attention of the Ferenc Clan. Parents waiting for their children’s return brightened for a moment, only for their faces to fall again. Then, as if realizing something, a restless energy spreads among them.
More dwarves began shouting and running toward the town center.
“Chief! More humans are here, and their group has Petrit, Gabor, Zigrin, and Fuchs with them!”
A bald dwarf, bundled up in a thick cotton jacket, stepped out of a stone house. His white beard betrayed his age—he had clearly lived for over a century. Yet his energy burned like a roaring forge, and from a distance, he called out loudly: “Gabor! Petrit! Seeing you two in the same party? I almost thought Mahakam’s snow had finally melted!”
Gabor lowered his head, looking dejected, while Petrit quickly stepped forward and greeted the Ferenc Clan leader with the proper respect. He then introduced Lann and his companions, explaining their purpose for coming.
The Clan Chief's expression shifted dramatically. He studied Lann with the curiosity one might have for a rare beast, then strode forward and extended his right hand high.
“Ha! The Duke Lannister from Cintra. I've heard of you. But I never imagined that anyone other than me could win the friendship of both Zigrin and Fuchs—let alone bring them together in one company. You must tell me the whole story!”
“I am Vavrinek Ferenc, Chief of this clan!”
This time, it wasn’t just Gabor who bowed his head slightly—even Petrit did the same.
With a polite, diplomatic smile, Lann gave a slight bow and shook Vavrinek’s hand.
“I am Lann, Lann Lannister of Cintra. I assume you already know why we’re here.”
“Forgive my urgency,” Lann said apologetically. “But if everything has gone according to plan, I should have sent a team ahead to assist with clearing out the monsters. And yet, I don’t see them here.”
“Ah, I know who you mean. The witcher with the snake-like eyes and the girl with the longbow,” Vavrinek said, glancing at Geralt, whose amber, cat-like pupils bore a resemblance.
“They’re not here right now. They went out to help. And actually, that has something to do with them.” As he spoke, Vavrinek gestured toward the dwarves gathered at the edge of town. Many of the parents had been edging closer ever since Lann's group arrived, their eagerness evident. At Vavrinek's signal, they murmured among themselves before finally sending a representative forward.
It was a dwarven woman—a mother. She was bundled in a thick cotton dress, with equally thick cotton trousers underneath, making her look like a walking ball of fabric. Like all dwarves, she had a long beard—a trait that unmistakably marked her kind.
And while her appearance differed greatly from that of humans, a mother’s heart remained the same.
“You must be Duke Lannister,” the dwarven woman said. Dwarven society didn’t have such rigid titles, but she made an effort to conform to human customs.
“Master Kolgrim and Lady Milva spoke of you often.”
“We need your help...”
As Lann listened to the dwarven mother, the full picture began to unfold before him.
...
According to past years, the wandering dwarves should have started returning home about a week ago. But this year, not a single one had shown up.
With the recent monster outbreaks in Mahakam, every parent was on edge, fearing their children had been attacked on the way back. They pleaded with Clan Chief Vavrinek for help, but the Ferenc Clan was already stretched so thin they had to seek aid from Mount Carbon. Diverting more manpower would mean losing control of several mines.
Just then, Kolgrim and Milva arrived with their team.
The Cintrans understood the assignment—this was an opportunity to both clear out monsters and strengthen their ties with the Ferenc dwarves. A win-win. So after a brief rest, they set out.
That was five days ago.
...
"But they still haven’t come back..." The dwarven mother wiped her eyes. "I don’t know what happened to them..."
Lann’s expression hardened.
Vavrinek looked ashamed. "Apologies, Duke Lannister. None of us expected things to turn out like this. The Ferenc Clan simply doesn’t have enough people to spare."
Geralt rode up beside Lann and lowered his voice. "Lann... you don’t think—?" The White Wolf’s face was grim.
Lann took a deep breath and shook his head. "No way. Kolgrim’s with them—he’s a witcher who traveled north along just to track down his school’s gear blueprints. Even if they ran into something they couldn’t handle, he’d find a way out."
Knowing when to retreat was a basic witcher skill. They didn’t throw their lives away—they avoided unnecessary risks. Geralt himself had once casually told Lann, "If I see a dozen drowners, I turn around and run."
Lann trusted Kolgrim.
And besides—
He discreetly activated his chaos energy, preparing Teleport. Instantly, glowing runes that only he could see appeared before his eyes.
Both Kolgrim and Milva had been marked for teleportation by Lann, and their markers were still moving. That meant they were alive and on the move—not stuck somewhere or worse.
But they were pretty far away.
Lann glanced at Milva’s status panel. Her health bar was still in the safe zone—just standard wear from combat. After five days in the wild, staying in that condition was actually impressive.
That was why Lann was the only one who didn’t look worried.
Seeing Geralt’s confusion, Lann decided to explain. "You remember when I used Teleport on you before? It lets me sense your general location. Plus, Milva’s part of my ‘Lion Pride’—I can monitor her condition. She doesn’t seem to be in any danger."
Geralt raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by this particular Elder Blood trick.
Since there was no immediate danger, Lann didn’t teleport right away. But the team had been gone for too long, and he wasn’t about to sit around waiting. Instead of entering the Hag’s Pit, he decided to change course and meet up with his people. Along the way, they’d clear out any monsters they ran into.
If Kolgrim and the others hadn’t found the missing dwarves yet, they could help track them down—and score some extra goodwill with the Ferenc Clan in the process.
The dwarf parents, who had been anxiously waiting for any sign of their children, burst into tears of relief.
"Thank you, Lord Lannister… no, Duke Lannister!"
At that moment, a system notification popped up:
[New Quest Discovered – The Place They Couldn’t Return To: By dwarven tradition, every wandering child should have returned home by now. Yet this year, not a single one has come back. The team you sent to deal with the monsters took on the task of finding them, but something must have gone wrong. Perhaps you can help the dwarves in their time of need and reunite them with their lost children.]
It had been a while since a side quest appeared. Even back at the Fuchs Clan, the system had stayed quiet—probably because those actions were counted under The Great Cleansing quest and didn’t trigger anything new.
