“I could eat a hundred loaves of bread!” The thin and malnourished dwarven girl boasted to her younger brother as the two of them foraged for grubs and mushrooms on the edge of a farming field. The rich field was teeming with nutritious ripe pumpkins that they weren’t allowed to go near. It was nearly midnight in Grandring and the artificial moon above had nearly reached its zenith.

“I could eat a whole mountain of bread, and a bowl of stew bigger than the castle!” The beardless boy replied. There was strength in his voice, but his little body moved slowly and shakily.

The two starving children were on death’s door like so many other dwarves at the bottom rung of the intensely capitalist society. The man that watched them from the shadows of a nearby stalagmite mound had tears in his eyes, and an immeasurable weight stooping his broad shoulders.

A few hours ago, he had been in his palatial fortress in a meeting. He was always in a meeting. His life was a perpetual meeting with the various heads of his kingdom - all obscenely wealthy dwarves with pockets so deep that they truly believed they could simply weather any war and even profit by gobbling up the carcasses of the businesses that weren’t so fortunate.

“Ye see now, me king?” A gravelly voice from the shadows asked. His sudden presence was not surprising. After all, Van Kothis the Weaver King had been the one to convince him to leave his work and come out here tonight. “Those children have the fangs of yer own ministers stuck in their necks. Your kingdom is gonna be naught but twenty fat dwarves in an empty cave ‘fore long.”

“I do see old friend.” A quiver ran through the voice of the dwarven king. “I have been buried under peripheral responsibilities, and blinded by the lies of those I believed I could trust. There is always something to sign, and some thousand page report to read. It stops now. Get word to my generals. Our long sleep is finished. Gather every dwarf with a hoard of gold that outweighs a starving child and bring them before my throne.”

“Very good, me king. An odd metric for judgment perhaps, but very good.” Van Kothis stifled a chuckle as he answered.

“Also.” The dwarf king added as he looked back to the two children. “Bring these two children. I wish to hear all that they have endured under my careless rule.”

With that, the mightiest dwarf in history pulled the hood of his plain brown cloak down to hide his face and marched back in the direction of the castle. Gone was the halting gait and bent posture that had marked his coming.

“Welcome back Ramthrag Anvilbane.” Van Kothis wiped his misty eyes and smiled. It had taken months to finally infiltrate the bureaucratic circle of ministers and meet with his dear old comrade in arms. He had called in every favor, and finally Ramthrag had agreed to leave his mountain of paperwork. Van had forced him to come see the true state of his kingdom, rather than the rose tinted image painted by his underlings.

This had been the last stop. On their way here they had visited an open grave, a large chasm outside the city where a colony of rats numbering in the tens of thousands feasted freely on dwarven flesh. They had seen desperate crime, helpless victims, and starving children. The worst was the feeling of defeat; the apathy of those that see no hope and simply wait for death with open arms.

An angry voice jarred Van from his thoughts.

“Oi! You maggots were warned about skulking ‘round me pumpkins!” A plump dwarf in overalls was stumping his way across the fertile soil waving a truncheon at the children.

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The two waifs panicked and tried to scramble away but the boy stumbled and cried out as his ankle twisted under him at a bad angle.

“Please sir!” The girl begged. “We weren’t after yer pumpkins. We were getting worms and grey caps!”

“Them worms are mine!” The dwarf bellowed, still charging forward menacingly. “Them grey caps are mine! Go and feed the rat hive already!” The truncheon came down and the girl tried to shelter the boy with her own small body.

The blow never fell. The farmer watched dumbstruck as the black snake he was now holding in his hand wrapped around his arm and sank glowing green fangs into his bicep. He screamed like a snared rabbit and went berserk.

“What’s the problem there, Danno?” Van asked brightly as he strolled along, pretending to simply be passing by.

“Snake bit me! I’m gon’ die!” The farmer named Danno screamed back shaking his arm wildly which once again held an ordinary club. “It... There was a snake, black as pitch and it bit me! I was kilt!”

“Perhaps you’ve just been overworking yourself. Why not go back inside and have Miltha tend to you?” Van replied.

“Wait. Who’re ye?” The dwarf narrowed his eyes in confusion. “How’d ye know me name and me wife!?”

“Return to your home now and you’ll spare yourself the misfortune of finding out.” Van’s sudden eloquence and ice cold demeanor was jarring. More jarring was the sudden apparition of a giant shadowy serpent rising up like an aura from the rugged Van’s shoulders.

Danno was running as fast as his short legs could carry him when Van’s icy voice drifted to his ears.

“Good dwarves should be kind to children. I’ll be watching you Danno...”

“T-thanks mister.” The girl said apprehensively.

“You’re not frightened?” Van asked her curiously.

“Sure I am!” She exclaimed. Her little brother nodded along emphatically even as he rocked back and forth nursing his hurt leg. “It’s proper to thank someone one that saves ye, scared or not.” She continued.

“That’s a good lass.” Van slipped easily back into his dwarven accent. “Lead on to yer home. I’d like a word with yer folks.”

“I... We ain’t got no folks. Pa had a big debt at the Blind Dragon and they took him to the deeper mines. Ma left with the Gray Runners.”

“The Gray Runners?” Van echoed curiously.

“The Gray’s real!” The little dwarf boy spouted as though Van doubted him. “Ma’s gonna bring us food!” For some reason that declaration upset the boy and he began to cry.

“He certainly is real.” Van affirmed with a gap toothed grin. Van’s agents had worked diligently to spread the rumors about the enigmatic man and his generous kingdom.

The mother of these two had likely joined one of his own caravans. There was nothing Van Kothis loved more than watching threads come together. His existence was a grand tapestry, and the image was growing more vibrant by the day.

“Well since ye have no one to watch yer back, why not come along with me?” Van could be downright charming to children when he wanted to be. “I can do a bit better than worms and grey caps!

“But me foot...” The boy complained with a sniffle.

“Yer a dwarf, lad! Stomp on that foot twice and tell that pain to shove off.” He ordered the boy as he helped him to his feet.

It seemed harsh, but the boy found himself complying and to his amazement the pain faded.

“What can we call ye then?” The girl asked.

“Call me Van.” Van jammed a gnarled thumb into his chest.

“I’m Koba, this is Edgar.” She bowed slightly and nodded at her brother as she introduced them.

“Pleased to meet ye both.” Van answered. “C’mon this way. Dwarves can handle a little sprain or concussion, but an empty belly’s another story!” He began stumping away from the field in the direction of the gigantic sprawling open market near the center of Grandring.

Most of the businesses were closed, but a select few stayed open to capitalize on the late night crowd of drunks that inevitably dispersed from The Blind Dragon and the other shadier bars. Van led the shuffling youngsters to one such stall that specialized in a stew of vegetables, wide noodles and thick broth made from the succulent meat of goliath cave spiders. The smell wafting from the door made the children’s stomachs growl violently at the the same time. The immensely rotund dwarf behind the counter wore a snowy white cap and matching apron. His beaming smile seemed to falter a tiny bit when he noticed Van entering.

“Master Kothis, please have a seat! You’ve brought some... friends I see?” The proprietor bobbed his head up and down hypnotically as he spoke.

“Aye. Relax biggin’. This here’s a casual visit. Three big bowls, three ales, and three crusty heels!” Van said to comfort the sweating proprietor.

Koba eyed the giant steaming bowl of heaven and the dark heel of bread glistening with butter as they were placed before her. Her face was contorted with a combination of longing and growing suspicion. Nothing in dwarven society was free after all.

“We can’t pay you back for this...” She began but Van raised a hairy hand.

“Obviously. You’re about to meet the king, and he’d hang me by my hip whiskers if I dropped ye off in the shape you’re in now.” Van pointed at the soup. “Eat up and pay me back by tellin’ the king how good a job I did.”

“The king...?” Koda let the baffling thought melt away. The pull of the soup was overpowering and she lost all sense of everything after that first bite.