“Heave-ho! Heave-ho! Pickaxe shines!
Heave-ho! Heave-ho! Rock wall cracks!
Dark below, firelight bright,
Dig out gold for ale tonight!
Cave-ins, floods—no dwarf will flee,
For dwarves have strength as deep as sea!
If trapped down in the mine to stay—
Let beer’s sweet scent guide you home someday!”
…
The air inside the Giant’s Maw Tavern was thick with the aroma of malt beer and roasted meat.
Rough laughter and swearing from dwarves echoed alongside the heavy clinking of wooden mugs and the off-key rhythm of a mining song. Waiters shouted as they squeezed between crowded tables, balancing trays over their heads.
It was the sort of evening every dwarf knew best.
At a corner table by the stone wall, Torin Deepforge — the dwarf who had once accidentally fallen into the Pujis’ Dungeon and later returned to the mountains — was sharing a farewell drink with his friends.
Beside him sat Glennm, another dwarf. After surviving both the Strawman Abyss and the Puji Dungeon together, their bond had long surpassed simple employment; they were brothers-in-arms, inseparable now.
Across from them sat a rare sight in the mountains — a white-furred foxkin.
The dwarves weren’t as isolationist as the elves; they welcomed allied races warmly enough.
Still, while the dwarves kept their doors open, few outsiders chose to settle among the mountains.
After all, there wasn’t much profit to be made here.
The valuable mines were all controlled by major clans. Without dwarven mining talent, making a living in these mountains was next to impossible.
Adventurers who came this way could only find odd jobs — clearing out cave monsters and the like.
The Moltenfire Dungeon deep beneath the mountain fortress had long been fully taken over by the dwarves, turned into a pure source of elemental materials, leaving no need for outsiders to interfere.
So foreigners were rare here, and foxkin rarer still.
Torin wiped the froth from his beard and grinned.
“Come now, Kiro, really won’t have a drop of Dokk Ale? It’s the best stuff in the mountains!”
The foxkin mage shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Though small in stature, the heavy wooden furniture built for dwarves didn’t suit him at all.
“No thanks. A mage’s brain can’t afford to turn into mush.”
“Nonsense,” Glennm cut in. “Every spellcaster I know’s half a barrel of beer! You’re just afraid you can’t hold your liquor.”
Kiro merely smiled faintly, not bothering to argue.
Torin sighed, his tone tinged with melancholy.
“Kiro, do you really have to go? You could stay a while longer. I wouldn’t even charge you for food or lodging — after all, you did save my life!”
This tavern was one of the Deepforge Clan’s businesses.
As the clan leader’s youngest son, Torin didn’t hold much authority, but waiving a few expenses for a friend was well within his rights.
Kiro shook his head gently.
“That mountain path where you fell sees plenty of travelers. I just happened to find you first — saved you a bit of suffering, nothing more. And I’ve eaten and drunk for free for three months, plus taken plenty of your gemstones. That’s more than enough. Now I need to go chase new fortune.”
“I’ve always wanted to ask,” Glennm leaned forward curiously, “what exactly do you mean by ‘fortune’?”
“Saving an injured dwarf like Torin was fortune. But fortune moves — and mine’s moved elsewhere. I have to follow it.”
“Huh? You can chase luck around?” Glennm blinked.
Torin swirled the dregs in his mug wistfully.
“Sounds amazing… I wish I could travel the world too, instead of wasting my life away in these same old mountains.”
“You’re just too comfortable,” Glennm laughed. “Go hungry a few times, and you’ll see how blessed this easy life is.”
“Maybe. But I still crave adventure!”
The three of them drank and chatted late into the night, until both dwarves passed out and had to be carried to their rooms by the waitstaff.
When they awoke around noon the next day, Kiro was already gone — having left at dawn.
“That foxkin’s something else,” Glennm muttered in admiration.
“He sure is,” Torin agreed. “Though which part are you talking about?”
“You didn’t notice? He got up early every single day for three months.”
Torin thought back, blinking. That was true — and for dwarves who loved their ale, that really was impressive.
Then he noticed something odd at his waist. He reached down and pulled out two rolled parchments.
“What’s this…?”
He couldn’t remember anything after their drinking binge, but Glennm did.
“They’re two Shrink Scrolls. Kiro said they’d bring us good luck.”
The two dwarves exchanged puzzled looks. Still, Torin carefully stored the parting gift from his friend.
…
A week after Kiro’s departure, the Deepforge Clan finally lost patience with Torin’s idleness and forcibly assigned him a job — overseeing material transport inside the Moltenfire Dungeon.
Unlike other dungeons, the one beneath Goldenflame Fortress was primarily inhabited by elemental spirits.
Through unique dwarven methods, these elementals had been successfully tamed.
Now they served as steady producers of elemental resources.
When an elemental’s body matured to a certain point, it would be harvested; its spirit would then return to the environment to recondense a new form.
The only minor nuisance in the entire dungeon came from a few burrowing insects stealing scraps of ore — hardly a danger.
That was why Torin always complained that life in the mountains was monotonous and passionless. Not even the dungeons held a trace of true adventure.
Watching bag after bag of packaged materials being carted away, Torin muttered under his breath,
“Glennm, maybe we should sneak out again sometime.”
Glennm shot him a glare. “You want to see my face on the wanted posters?”
Torin thought about it — his clan would probably do that — and sighed in defeat.
Just as he slumped down to watch another shipment roll out, a sudden cry for help echoed through the cavern!
A dwarf miner came scrambling and stumbling toward them, terror on his face — and behind him, a five-meter-tall Stone Giant thundered in pursuit, its rocky fist crashing down toward him!
“Look out!” Torin roared, instinctively grabbing the battle axe leaning by the wall and charging forward.
Glennm was just as quick, planting his heavy shield between the giant and the fleeing miner.
Rock slammed against steel — sparks flew — Glennm staggered back half a step but managed to block the blow.
Torin seized the opening, swinging his axe into the Stone Giant’s knee. The creature toppled amid flying shards of rock.
But before they could even catch their breath—
the entire dungeon seemed to awaken.
“The Fire Spirits are going berserk!”
“Hold the stone constructs back!”
Shouts and clashes erupted from every direction. The once-docile elementals were attacking dwarves on sight.
Torin smashed his axe down, shattering the rock elemental beneath him.
“What in the world is going on!?”
Glennm took position at his side.
“Looks like your ‘adventure’ finally found you.”
“This is not what I meant!”
More and more rampaging elementals poured into view.
“Let’s run for it!” Glennm urged.
But at that moment, Torin’s sense of duty — however belated — kicked in.
“I have to sound the alarm first!”
“Seriously? Now?”
Seeing Torin already sprinting into a side corridor, Glennm could only grit his teeth and follow.