Chapter 29 - Dwarf Warrior Harga Stonebelt
Almost a full day had passed since the Ark Gallery shut down. In the dwarf city of Cardum, bathed in twilight, the dwarves were voicing their frustration. Durin and Balgrim, wrapping up a hard day's work at the tavern, felt the same stifling impatience.
"Cough, cough..! Without the Gallery, we can't even check how things are going in the other neighborhoods. Cough..!"
"Tell me about it, cough, tell me about it. And with our short legs, it's not like we can just run over and see for ourselves..."
"The Gallery said it won't be back online until tomorrow, cough, right?"
"That's right, brother. It's for adding new features, cough, so we just have to bear it."
Coughs punctuated their conversation nonstop. The dwarves' chronic cough was like an unwelcome neighbor they could never shake off.
"By the way, I'm dying to know what that new item they're planning to sell is, cough, what it could be."
"If the Moderator's a hearty fellow like us dwarves, then obviously! Ob, cough cough..! Obviously booze!"
"Kuhaha, cough, uhahaha! You think so too? That.. chicken thing? Looked like some mighty fine grub. Selling something that awesome without booze on the side? Can't call yourself a man then! Cough, cough..!"
But the dwarves, real men's men who didn't let a little coughing get to them, simply hoped the new product from the Moderator would be alcohol.
At that moment—BAM!—the tavern door flew open, and a female dwarf clutching a shield stormed in, yelling.
"Hey, you old geezers! For the love of—stop drinking already!! Half your talk is coughing—why do you keep pounding the booze?!"
Her sharp voice cut through the coughs and chatter, making listeners feel the frustration themselves. The female warrior demanding dwarves cut back on booze had barged into their conversation.
"Hah, here comes the nag Harga. Cough!"
"Cough! Well, if our girl says so, guess we gotta skip, cough cough..! one round tonight. Uhahaha!"
"Ugh... you guys forget spitting blood from coughing last time?! Huh?? I'm not saying never for life! Just! Exactly one week! Got it?!"
Unable to hold back her exasperation, Harga slammed the table where the two dwarves sat, shouting.
Right then, an ominous creak from the table.
"Whoa, look at this feisty lass. Brother. The table's got a, cough cough..! crack in it now, uhahaha!"
"Hm? Where, where... hahaha! Our nagging girl, didn't you smash the tavern coun, cough..! counter last time and get an earful from Madam? Looks like you're in for it again!"
Harga gasped at the mention of the crack and looked where she'd struck. Sure enough, a huge fissure ran across the table, just as they said.
Word of it reached the kitchen, where a middle-aged dwarf woman had been wringing nonexistent ingredients into meals. She came rushing out.
"What?! Harga! What'd you break this time?! I'm done with you, seriously..!"
"No, Madam! It's these geezers chugging booze like water despite their health!"
Harga protested to Madam, genuinely worried about the old-timers she'd known since childhood.
But this was Harga's twentieth offense. Madam couldn't extend any more leniency.
"Then what should they drink in a tavern? And you know their ailments ain't from the booze!"
"I know...! It's not the booze, but... if they get worse here, it'll be a real disaster..."
Aware of her own fault, Harga hung her head low in response.
Madam and the dwarf men exchanged wry smiles at the sight.
"Uhahaha! Brother, looks like we should call it, cough cough..! here tonight."
"I think so too, brother! Already nicely buzzed anyway! Cough cough..!"
No sense tormenting the girl—she looked ready to burst into tears. The two coughing dwarves decided to call it quits and stand.
"Whew... mine repair still pending, right? I'll put it on my tab—come collect when you get paid."
"Thanks, Madam! You're the only one for us miners! Uhahaha!"
"You bet! Who else knows our wallet woes inside out, cough! like our Madam? Oh, and our Harga girl too! Uhahaha!"
The dwarves patted the downcast Harga's back—whap! whap!—grabbed their gear, and rose.
"Take care going home! No deep mine dives while Gallery's down!"
"Thanks for worrying, Madam! See you tomorrow!"
"Gonna sleep like a rock thanks to you! Off we go, Madam! Uhahaha!"
The boisterous dwarves chattered as they departed. Madam watched them go, then sat Harga down.
"Sigh. You know that's your twentieth smash? I'll let it slide since you pay up quick, but keep it up and I'll have to ban you."
"Sorry, Madam... But you saw Durin and Balgrim coughing blood last time, right..? They're barely over 200— if they drop dead like this..."
"I know, Harga. But what can we do? Recovery magic doesn't touch dwarf coughs, herbs barely help. It's unavoidable. So I... try to serve the tastiest meals possible. Doesn't good food soothe the cough? Find some other way besides banning their booze. Think they'll quit? More likely an orc quits shitting."
Perhaps worried about gloomy Harga, Madam cracked a rare joke to cheer her up.
"Pfft... Got it, Madam. Nagging 'em to drink less is okay though, right?"
"Sure, go for it. Here for a drink yourself? Usual order?"
"Yes, please, Madam."
Harga, who'd been bounding mountains for hunts today, slumped in her chair, drained from the ruckus on top of exhaustion.
"The cough... if only I could stop the cough... there has to be something..."
She knew the cause: mine dust, fumes from smelting and hammering metal. Breathing it bare-faced day in, day out—that's why dwarves hacked away young and died worn out.
"Cloth over the mouth won't cut it. Too weak. Needs to block dust completely without hindering breath. That's how to stop the cough... damn, pisses me off just thinking. Where's a gadget like that in this world?"
She muttered to herself, then suddenly flared up. Dwarves at other tables chuckled over drinks, treating it like appetizers.
The young miss always fretting over dwarf health—it was a big morale boost for folks grinding through grueling days.
As Harga stewed, Madam brought her order.
"Here: spiced bean stir-fry, grilled baguette, and beer. I know it's not your fave, but it's all we got now. Bear with it, okay?"
"Ugh... Madam, when's other booze coming? Heard production's caught up, so they're making varieties..."
Dwarf through and through, a drinker even—but dwarf beer, thick and gritty? Harga couldn't stomach it. Still, no drink meant no life, so she endured.
"That's after baguettes hit stores. Been at it less than a week. Give it two-three months for booze you'll like."
"Uwaaa... Madam... why's dwarf beer the baseline for us..? Cleaner stuff exists—why..."
"Why ask the obvious? Easy to make. Easy means lots, lots means chug away, right?"
Ironclad logic. Harga got it intellectually, but couldn't endorse the taste.
"Sigh... thanks, Madam. Whined too much after you cooked. I'll enjoy it."
"Hehe. Was gonna charge table damage if you didn't say that—quick on the uptake! Dig in~"
Madam headed back to the kitchen. Harga shivered at the words—nearly got booted without eating. She rubbed her goosebumps and eyed the food.
"Spiced beans, baguette, and... ugh."
The beer oozed viscosity just looking at it. She scowled.
"Gotta drink... dwarves die without booze..."
Harga took a deep breath, steeled herself, and lifted the mug.
Gulp, gulp—dwarf beer sliding down her throat. Shuddering at the slime, she topped sliced baguette with beans and shoved it in.
"Too... freaking gross... anyone, please sell tasty booze.."
Like yesterday, Harga grimaced through dwarf beer today. Unbeknownst to her, her routine had become the tavern's star attraction, prime drinking fodder for other dwarves.
"Please, someone sell booze... and while at it, something to block dust too..! I'll give anything—please..!"
Surrounding dwarves stifled laughs. Harga suffered through her beer. Moonlight now bathed the dwarf capital Cardum.
Even with the Gallery offline, the scene was its usual peaceful self.