"Dan Parkinson - Dragonlance Preludes II - Vol 2 - Flint, the King" - читать интересную книгу автора (Parkinson Dan)

"Not so far south as me, though - east hillcountry'd be
my guess," the other hill dwarf said, tapping his chin in
thought, squinting at Flint. "Perhaps just north of Thor-
bardin?"
"How did you know?" Flint asked brusquely. "I've never
met anyone who could pinpoint someone's region so
closely!"
"Well, now, it wasn't too difficult," the dwarf said, his
tone implying anything but. "I travel for my living, selling
leather work. I detected a slight accent and noticed the black
in your hair - nearly every dwarf in my region has red or
brown; And that long, loose, blue-green tunic and those
baggy leather boots - you've been away from dwarves for
some time, haven't you? I haven't seen anyone wearing that
style in years, you know. Say, what village are you from,
exactly?"
Flint was a little put off by the clothing comments - he'd
gotten the boots as a gift from his mother a few decades
before - but he decided the dwarf meant no offense. "I was
raised in a little place called Hillhome, smack between Thor-
bardin and Skullcap."
"Hillhome! Why, I was there but twenty day ago. Was
trading my boots and aprons. Not so little anymore,
though. A shame what's happening there, isn't it?" he said

sympathetically. "Still, you can't stop progress, now can
you? Um, um, um," the dwarf muttered, shaking his head
sadly.
"Progress? In Hillhome?" Flint snorted. "What did they
do, raise the hems on the frawl's dresses by half an inch?"
"I'm talking about the mountain dwarves!" yelled Hanak.
"Marchin' through town, drivin' their big wagons over the
pass. They even stay at hill dwarf inns!"
"That pass was built by hill dwarf sweat, hill dwarf
blood!" cried Flint, appalled at the news. "They'd never let
the mountain dwarves use it!" No, never, Flint repeated ve-
hemently to himself.
The history of the hill and mountain dwarves was a bitter
one, at least during the centuries since the Cataclysm. At
that time, when the heavens rained destruction upon
Krynn, the mountain dwarves withdrew into their great un-
derground kingdom of Thorbardin and sealed the gates,
leaving their hill dwarf cousins to suffer the full force of the
gods' punishment.
The hill dwarves had named the act the Great Betrayal,
and Flint was only one of the multitudes who had inherited
this legacy of hatred from his forefathers. Indeed, his fa-
ther's father, Reghar Fireforge, had been a leader of the hill
dwarf armies during the tragic, divisive Dwarfgate Wars.
Flint could not believe that the dwarves of Hillhome would