I was taken across more cable cars and to the throne chamber. I was led into the great hall and toward the throne. As I drew near I could see that the dwarf king held my father’s letter in his hand. He greeted me warmly and revealed that he knew my father, and his father before him. He stood from his throne and walked nearer to me. Then he began to speak “yer daddy says ye be havin’ a wee bit o’ trouble with yer nifty little trinket aye?” Then he began to weave a tale so wild, I thought he had gone mad. He told me that my ring had been forged by dragons in the age of peace. And that each of the four kingdoms had been granted a royal ring-artefact. He explained that the rings would only work for someone of the royal bloodline, and he studied the ring upon my finger with great intrigue. Before I had a chance to critique his claims, he lifted his hand and his ring glowed. Suddenly, he held a pickaxe aloft. “Lad, ye be of royal-blood.” I guess some part of me always knew. So many things began to fit into place. I couldn’t figure out why my parents had hidden it from me for all this time, but then it hit me like a warhammer to the chest; I was a royal half-blood, if that information got out, then I would likely be hunted and killed by one of the many people who fear the coming of the prophesied one.
Before I could completely resolve the implications of what I had just learned, the king began to speak once more. He told me that he wanted me to enter the ancient dungeon located beneath his kingdom, and delve as deep as I possibly could. But also, he wanted me to bring his daughter along. He then walked over to Beth, studying the pickaxe in his hand and then offering it to her. The dwarven princess took the pickaxe from her father beaming with pride.
Once the family moment had passed I brought up what I had assumed was the topic of my father’s letter; My portable anvil. The king described what I had already suspected, and asked to see what I had done with the place. So I asked him to lead me to a workshop. Another brief carriage ride later and I stood before what absolutely had to be the most immaculate forge on the planet. It almost didn’t feel right, to strike an anvil many times greater and older than myself. I awkwardly reached for the dwarf’s hand as he placed it upon my shoulder, Beth doing the same. Upon entering my royal crafting dimension I found that we were located within an underground world. My workshop had readjusted itself yet again becoming a stone and iron dwarven styled building, Pegasus painting, and whelpling footprints included. The king stroked his beard as he inspected the dimension. “Aye, I was wonderin’ why ye weren't stowing yer pet ‘ere.” He finally said, half to himself. He asked how long I had been accessing this space and I estimated 2-3 years from my perspective. He began to laugh and muttered “Ye been accessin’ a royal sanctuary for years and ye haven’t set a soul-home yet!”
The king taught me about the dimension, explaining why time seemed frozen every time I entered the isolated space-time. He also explained why the external environment seemed to change along with me. Both problems stemmed from my lack of a home-forge. He described how I could bind my ring to one access point, and it would allow time to pass normally. And it would also serve as a one-way portal back home, which I have to say was an incredible perk. Teleportation was expensive. But the king continued to top himself when he told me that by setting a home anvil, guests would be able to remain inside, even without my presence. And he even took a look at my spring loaded horse and requested that he stay inside my workshop to work on it; so long as I set this forge to my soul-home so that he could return here when he was finished. He also let me know that if I wanted to contact him I would have to open a secondary portal, or return to the main forge.
After receiving a brief history of the Dwarven dungeon, I figured that I would need to make some rubbings of the altars located in the rest areas of the dungeon. So I prepared the required tools. And grabbed a crude copy of my original rubbing from the 10th floor of the human dungeon.
Dash, Beth, and I entered the dungeon. The first floors were a bore, but they allowed me to observe Beth’s fighting style. Which was rather unimpressive. She used a hammer that was too big for her, and an axe that was too small. She made the best of what she had, but it was clear to me that she had no formal training. The enemies were pretty much the same as before, so I gave Beth some pointers as we cleared the floors. I also had her teach me a few simple dwarven phrases during some of the slower battles. Dash seemed to be having a lot of fun, and we gathered some neat trinkets from our kills.
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Eventually we reached the 10th floor and once again I was met with another single large monster. The boss battle set before us was the challenge of a golem. I began quickly performing a hit & run tactic, but my target seemed to ignore my strikes. Dash attempted to assist me, and when I looked to Beth I saw that she had conjured her family heirloom; the dwarven royal pickaxe. And when she finally managed to land a few attacks, it caused the golem to crack and chip. I converted Luseal into her shield form and did my best to draw the stone sentinels' attention, giving Beth as many openings as I could.
Dash found that headbutting the animated rock with the armoured helm I had crafted for him was an effective strategy and before long, the stone giant crumbled into a pile of treasure. Once in the rest area, we saw a room identical to the ones found within the human dungeon, right down to the markings on the altar and the choice between an exit, and the next dungeon floor. So we continued deeper into the labyrinth.
The battles finally started to become a challenge. We battled beasts and apparitions I couldn’t identify at the time. And one that remained unseen even when standing in the light. We encountered a room full of medium slimes that Dash and I prevented from fusing into any larger threats; I did learn that each colour was capable of casting simple magic on these levels. I can’t claim to remember every little encounter on every single floor, but I’m pretty sure the 18th floor held a gryphon or hippogryph of some sort, and the 19th floor was a troll. I remember the troll because it fucked my shit up pretty badly. It wielded an enormous club at least as large as me, maybe twice my size. My sword sliced through the flesh of it’s ankle as if it were butter, not so fortunately for me, that really pissed it off. The oversized ogre fell to a knee and began swinging its club around wildly. Dodging and deflecting his advances, I attempted to distance myself from the erratic movements but the son-of-a-bitch flopped onto its belly to extend its range and landed a crushing blow.
I’m sure if it wasn’t for Luseal I would have been killed. Thankfully, yet again I was able to draw 100% of my enemies attention; giving my allies a huge opening. Dash clamped his talons into the ogre’s back and bit deep into its neck. And Beth, rushing to my side; was able to finish it off with a blow to the skull. As always a pile of treasures tumbled to the floor, and we gathered it up. Well Beth gathered it all up, I was barely able to drag my ass to the lobby. Once there, I began chanting a few of the restorative incantations my mother had taught me until I no longer felt like I was going to throw up.
Upon leaving the dungeon Beth and I headed back to the great forge, and entered my workshop. I was met with a shirtless dwarf king covered in grease, and a completely disassembled mechanical horse. Once we had updated him on our progress in the dungeon he requested that Beth deliver a letter instructing his people to prepare some dwarves, and the knights who plan to return home for the voyage. Once Beth was gone the king told me he was sorry about the cold welcome I had received. He explained that his people were afraid to form an alliance with the other kingdoms. He described how every age of peace had ended in destruction, and that he suspected it was no coincidence. We also discussed the nature of the pocket dimension’s time flow. He told me that locking the time flow within my workshop was as simple as unbinding my home forge. I remembered the vegetables I stole from the orcs and that I had planted here. So I asked the king about growing within the area.
The king taught me of the different royal crests crafted by the dragons. He told me that his pickaxe (Beth’s pick now) held two seals, one for smelting, and one for mining. But the dwarven coffers held a third crest. He believed that it had originally belonged to the human king, and he wanted me to have it.
We exited the workshop, and waited for Beth to return. I guess Dash was starting to get used to the pocket dimension because he stayed inside. Yet another dozen carriage rides later and we were back at the forge, the crest comfortably stowed away in the king's pocket. With great esteem and showmanship he presented me with a small crest depicting a scythe, or probably a sickle. After a moment of awkwardly attempting to place the crest into the ring the king began to chuckle and told me that it was to be placed upon my crafting implement. So I conjured the now familiar hammer and inspected it. I found the location of the second seal and placed the crest within it.