Jason Weiser

But that's when he saw something emerge from the trees on the far end of the clearing.

A mythological dwarf wordlessly ambled toward the fire.

When he got close, he took off his hat, made of moss with a feather sticking out of it, and settled down, unbuttoning his lambskin coat.

The traveler took one of the smaller sticks, broke it over his knee, and fed the blaze.

Watching with his milky, all-white eyes, the duergar seemed to think it was a challenge.

Raising a discarded fence post over his knee, he snapped it in half with one go before giving the pieces to the flame.

There was a long silence between the pair and the traveler was not about to try to one-up the creature.

The duergar's beard bobbed with an acknowledgement to the traveler's prudence.

and he rose, walking back toward the forest.

The traveler might be weary, but he was also wary.

He did not go to the tent.

He didn't even move from that spot as the fire died.

This was not a normal place.

and the log he sat against and the ground in front of him were the only things he could be sure of.

He was right to be wary, but wrong about what he could be sure of.

When the sun rose, he found the log that he sat on was not a log, but a rocky outcropping.

He was on the edge of a cliff, and if he had tried to take one more step toward the Durgar or even go to sleep, he would have toppled to his death.

There are two ways to avoid the duergar.

Apparently you can carry Holly with you.

That's one way.