The second floor had a jungle theme. I use "theme" with a very strong sense of the word. There was a path to follow, and along the sides, one could witness various sights, such as tribal villages or predatory cats stalking through the trees. Mind you, the people of the village, the predators, the hunting parties from the village, and so on were not real. To be blunt, they were at best some of the worst animatronics I have seen, with them often being wooden cutouts with crudely painted caricatures of creatures on them to represent the natives. You could even see the various ropes and sticks that moved limbs back and forth in predictable patterns.

Upon occasion, real monsters would jump out to attack us, but their numbers appeared to be a little too thin for what I would have expected, and indeed, spots of gore and dried blood implied that others had perished slightly before we arrived. As we progressed, the monsters and sights became more and more warped from normal, and many of the stone statues, each crude in their making, suggested a story of corruption taking hold of the region as well as sacrificial rituals to stave it off.

By the end, there was a giant lizard-monster awaiting us. Well, its body was on the ground, with a little here and a little there for whatever chunks of it we could recognize. The wooden gate behind it, which was easily three stories tall, had a large hole in it that allowed us to pass through. It would seem that Bonpricha was of mind to smash her way to success.

The third floor was where a problem arose. The whole theme was that of a massive factory assembling robots of some kind for war. Various conveyor belts transported parts from one machine to another to build an endless army. Oftentimes, we had to get on the belts to traverse through the travesty of production, for the layout left much to be desired in the realm of organization. And the whole while, we had to keep an eye on Torborg lest he wander off to examine one machine or another. I do believe he would have gladly spent months on that floor to sate his curiosity, and by the end, I had to carry him over one shoulder so as to restrain him.

We progressed sixteen floors the first day. Each and every one was different thematically, and usually, they differed in expectations. One was an icy waste with two castles near each other on opposing hilltops, each of which sent an endless horde of soldiers to meet in the middle in a never-ending battle. We were expected to fight our way through the grand melee, but we opted to just fly over them with my own draconic form serving as the means of transportation. Another floor periodically flooded with lava, with highly contested islands of safety between each surge. Another still was on the back of a stampede of very massive turtles, and we were expected to make our way from the back of one to another without falling off.

In every case, we most likely "cheated" by circumventing the obstacles in our way via one means or another. Flight was a common method, as was overwhelming violence. Puzzles were often ignored and bypassed with indifference. Only the floors with mazes or where the path to the next floor remained unobvious proved a means to slow us down, but we either followed the trail of destruction ahead of us, or, oddly enough, Gambino and Bambina would point the way forward. Perhaps all this business of each floor telling an abstract story provided them the means to divine the way forward.

While I was more than capable of continuing, some amongst us were fatigued from the day's journey, and so we made camp in an oversized tax processing office from what I could tell. The whole floor was indoors, with all the rooms being connected randomly and each being rather bureaucratic and corporate in nature, albeit for a race much bigger than even ogres. It was while we rested there that first night that a deal was made, one that I had not been privy to until well after the fact.

Ma handed me the S8-T1 spanner, and I turned back to the sprocket to tighten it. However, sprockets do not get "tightened", as they were usually affixed to something else that could be tightened. However, I did it anyway, and as I turned back to Ma, she was instead replaced by a being made of conveyor belts that transported anvils. It offered me iron ingots, one after another, and I stuffed them into my pockets one after another as it kept giving me more and more and I had nowhere else to put them and I was being buried alive in-

Then there was darkness and light, a place of infinite space where nothing and everything could be found. Many times I had heard the others recount their experience here, and so by their accounts and descriptions, this could be nowhere else but The Void.

I had no time to waste, for tracks appeared before me with a minecart awaiting me. I don't know if I climbed in so much as the sum of it moved in such a way that I found myself seated, for there is no frame of reference in this place beyond time and space. The cart then moved on its own as the track wound in a never-ending circle. Round and round we went, with each revolution bringing about a change of the background that I could only describe as the cosmos being unformed back to the beginning. And then a doorway appeared on the tracks, one with a bright light coming from it. With nothing else to do but to accept what was to come, I rode through.

I could hear a chorus of hammers, each one striking an anvil or a great machine taller than any building. The scent of lubricating oils and fountains of ale wafted into my path, and my nose demanded I find the source, for each scent was a promise of wonders and delights beyond compare. I passed by tunnels into a mountainside, and each one had a stream of minecarts carrying ore so rich with metal that I could tell what species of minerals they were even from a distance. Beautiful dwarven maidens, each one only wearing a forge apron several sizes too small, helped burly men build mighty constructs and craft wondrous devices beyond my ken.

I wanted to see it all, to know it all, for this was the promised paradise of my people. And yet, my cart never slowed, for it moved with haste to take me to The Great Forge, the place where Hammerrabi toiled with his fellow gods to build… something. Even I, a Junior Chief Engineer, could only wonder at what I was seeing. Superficially, it was likened to an armillary sphere, one with at least a dozen layers to it, but I could not even begin to deduce its purpose.

The cart stopped in a safety zone, one with black and yellow stripes to indicate the caution one should have in approaching it. There, upon a table, sat a hardhat, goggles, a reflective vest, a safety harness, steel-toed boots, and other such personal protective equipment that were the foundation of workplace safety. I promptly donned everything like a good dwarf should, and only then did I ascend the stairs to a viewing platform for the great work being made by the very gods themselves.

"Torborg, my son, it is good to see you!" exclaimed Hammerrabi as he paused in his work to greet me. Notably, all his tools returned to their proper locations, and a full safety checklist was carried out before he stepped away from what he was building. In a short time, his massive form crossed the distance between us, and though the platform remained four stories tall, it only brought my person to his head, which was easily larger than my entire body. "I am glad you could make it on such short notice. There is something I would like to discuss with you."

Shrine Day School had done much to educate me in the nature of the gods, to instruct me in the purpose of their Domains and to guide my beliefs and practices in a way that would please the gods. It was, however, rather sparse in etiquette when in the very presence of the gods. I would like the record to show that I did not in fact look like a fish on land gasping for air as my legs turned to jelly. Indeed, I would like that very much, if only the truth were not so ironclad.

"Divine One! You honor me!" Some undignified sounds, stumbling, social faux pas, and generally flubbed attempts at pleasantries followed that are best forgotten in the grand scheme of what transpired. No need to recount such events.

A little while later, as we were sharing a pint together (well, much, much more than a pint for Hammerrabi), I realized that he was a dwarf at heart, one that was kindred to an [Engineer] like me, and as such, I could just talk to him like one.

"And then he said, 'That's not a load-bearing retaining wall, that's my wife!'"

A thunderous boom echoed throughout The Great Forge as a god laughed uproariously at my not-very-funny joke. I nearly leaped out of my skin at the sound of his hand slapping his knee, for the report of it rattled my bones. After far longer than most people laugh at jokes, especially for one as poor as my own, and after wiping away tears of mirth, my god got down to business.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"You are here to make a choice, one that I cannot force upon you. Let's not tinker around the spile. You know as well as I do that your Emperor will have a dwarf as one of his companions. Ostensibly, that dwarf is you, but there is another that could take your place."

He held his hand up to forestall any interruptions on my part.

"Know this. If you become one of his companions, you will never grow old. You will live to see your children grow old and die at the end of their natural lives. You will see generations of your kin pass the torch to those that follow. You will become a living relic of your people, both the epitome of what it is to be a dwarf, and also so far removed from them that you will lose the comfort of community that you have with them. All that you love and hold dear about your people will fade with the passing of centuries as the very identity of your people shifts and molds to the changes required to adapt to a new age. You will be remembered at a distance as a champion of your people, yet forgotten time and time again as those who knew you pass away.

"And yet, through all this, you will inspire your people in the darkest of times. You will remember the old ways, and guide your people back to the proper path when they stray into the darkness. You will strive perpetually to build a better tomorrow, and you will succeed time after time, always netting headway even as some of your progress is destroyed or abandoned. Slowly, you will see civilization evolve and thrive in ways you could only imagine, and you will be central to that advancement.

"What is offered is a blessing and a curse. You will not be alone, for others have already accepted this responsibility. You have talked to them, lived among them, become friends with them. You face an eternity of all that and more, and not even I can say how that will unfold. Someone must fulfill this role, and I can think of no finer dwarf than you."

I felt myself blush at his praise. I don't know that I am the finest dwarf around, but then, the finest dwarf around would not be so arrogant as to think so about himself.

"However, should you find this prospect to be too burdensome, there is one other who could shoulder it." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in, and the dramatic effect weighed upon me. "Your youngest son, blessed with a green beard, could grow to become that dwarf."

"No…" I barely uttered aloud. What kind of father could burden his son with such a monumental undertaking. Sure, there would be times of glory and discovery, of great works of construction and feats of engineering beyond comparison, but there would be so much loss. To forsake this offer would be to force it upon my own flesh and blood, and I cannot make such a choice for him. No true father should do such a thing.

However, I had to be honest with myself and what I wanted. Could I endure it? Would I enjoy it? Could I watch my family grow old and die before my very eyes? The younger generations of dwarves have their own lingo and slang which I don't like very much, and it would be like that only a thousandfold.

However, I stand where I am due to the sacrifices of countless people before me, both dwarves and those of other races. Nameless, faceless people gave their lives to protect all which we mortals hold dear, and now the torch has been passed to me. If I died in old age, could I return here with my head held high knowing I chose to save my own skin?

I looked around me. The Great Forge has an exterior of an amphitheater. Thousands of dwarves sat there to witness my decision. These were not the rank and file, but those deemed worthy of these sacred halls. Each and every one of them lived virtuous lives and made countless sacrifices for the greater good.

Some I even recognized from the tales of my people, like Orik Finehair, who, with his comically large drinking horn, saved his whole village from destruction by winning a drinking contest against orcish barbarians that made a wager for his people to be spared. He did die from a mix of alcohol poisoning (a rare feat for a dwarf) and a ruptured bladder, but he also did succeed. There was also Fugo Ironchewer, who held the bridge of Dragma Pass for two days by himself, which allowed the people of the valley below to evacuate to the cities for protection. Though not much is known about him, somehow, in this place, I knew that I recognized the unnamed apprentice that prevented Reactor 4 of Krakakarum by manually walking an anti-magic barrel directly into it, which was not only a fatal decision, but a deceptively painful and slow way to die.

Every face here was of a dwarf that lived for more than themselves. None of them asked to be put into such dire circumstances, and none faltered when it mattered most. How could I hold my head high in such company if I refused to do the same?

"You need not extend the offer to my son. I will shoulder my own burdens when the time comes."

My words rang true and clear, and my Oath carried to the ears of all present. We dwarves take our promises seriously, and breaking and Oath is not just social suicide, but the gateway to damnation itself.

Hammerrabi nodded in understanding and approval, and a wan smile and a knowing look communicated more than words ever could. I knew several ways that this could go from here, and few of those ways would be pleasant.

"Your words have been spoken, Torborg." His words were very official, and the fact that he did not use my last name or mention my clan was a very bad start to things. "So shall it be. I declare you unjiro-hakrum."

That was also not good, for in Dwarven, it means I am "nameless (family name)/clanless", with a context of "greater purpose", that my responsibilities in life go above and beyond duty and loyalty to family and clan.

"Furthermore, your youngest son, though his name day has not yet come, shall be Namerimam Greenbeard of Clan Trak'Torr."

His words hit me like a hammer upon an anvil. Only our gods can declare a new clan be created, and one has not been created in countless generations. "Namerimam" is Dwarven for "oath-curse" or the keeping of a promise and the consequences of breaking it in a legal setting, which is a bit on the nose given the circumstances. "Traktirac" is a word for "tourist" or "curious visitor", and "Torrithum" is a word for "bountiful festival" or "shared special occasion", so "Trak'Torr" is a portmanteau that, with the given cultural context, roughly means "one who shares (dwarven) culture with <those who are not dwarves>".

If our hammers are striking the same billet, then my son will be the leader of a clan about tourism and the sharing of dwarven culture, which will most likely be very profitable. I rather like the idea of that, and though it will be highly commercialized, dwarven culture will be preserved in one form or another.

"When the time comes," continued Hammerrabi, "I will ensure the conditions are met for you to become a companion. Furthermore, I acknowledge you as a Senior Chief Engineer and a Master Engineer. The Pantheon has decided that your Dual-Blessing shall be [Crossroads of Invention, Wayfinder of Construction].

"Your Emperor can build almost anything that is not biological or alchemical in nature, but he has little skill for making something new. He needs someone who can design and build prototypes out of any material, one who can conceive the greatest machines and tools imaginable. He has the vision required to find applications for what you could create, but not the means to know the precise means to achieve his goals. You will bridge that gap so that he can build according to his vision."

I had already been happily doing that, although I had admittedly been experiencing the limits of my knowledge and ability. Being granted a Blessing that was perfectly made to address that shortcoming was quite the favorable boon indeed.

"Now, our time together comes to an end. The waking world demands your attention, for your sleeping body will not continue to climb on its own. Stay safe, favored son."

As I headed back to the minecart, a chorus of "Fire Under the Mountain" could be heard from the dwarves in the amphitheater. The song brought tears to my eyes, for they sung an old favorite for those who head to war or to stave off calamity, one of sorrow for their absence, appreciation for their efforts, of hope that they will someday return, and a promise that they will not be forgotten.

I found sorrow that the doors of Laganin would most likely be forever closed to me after I departed, but overjoyed that I would help ensure a future where countless more dwarves would have the opportunity to ascend to here after their mortal lives came to a close. Surely, if my own children walk the path of righteousness, they too would be welcome here when they move on to the hereafter.

Soon, I found myself roused awake by Skull. I was back in our camp in The Tower, awake once more. I had been dreaming, and yet, I had experienced something far more real than a dream. An Oath lingered in the background of my mind, and a new conviction of purpose guided my actions. I rose to the first day of a new purpose in life, and for the sake of my family and every dwarf and non-dwarf who would come after me, I would see to it that I would not fail or falter when the hour of tribulation draws nigh.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.