“—Heading up? There’s nothing there now, but be careful anyway.”
“Ah, thanks for your concern. We’re very grateful for your help.”
After that brief exchange, they parted ways with Gondo’s crew.
The Dwarf at their head was a tunnel doctor, a magic caster from an alternative system.
His job was to cast spells which would reinforce the ceiling and prevent chunks from falling out of it, keeping the miners from being hurt by sharp edges in the rocks they were excavating, and so on.
It was critical to shore up the tunnels due to the constant danger of their collapse, but wood — the most commonly-used material for such reinforcement — was hard to come by in the Dwarven Kingdom. Thus, tunnel doctors used their magic to strengthen the walls of the tunnels.
In addition, they could tell if they were digging too close to water or gas. With them around, the miners could work in peace, without having to worry about collapse and the like.
Behind the tunnel doctor — who had many important jobs to perform — were lightly-armored Dwarven warriors.
Tunnel doctors were not common, which was why they were escorted by four men.
After they passed each other, the sound of their footsteps faded into the distance.
Much like other Dwarven cities, the city of Fio Kula sat at the heart of several ore veins which it worked. Only the west remained unexcavated for some reason. It lay beneath the earth, under the steep slopes of several sheer peaks.
In contrast to their casual, easygoing attitudes, the Dwarves were excellent mathematicians. The many tunnels which radiated from the city like blood vessels from a heart were the product of intricate calculations, and they formed geometric works of art once they were excavated. Tracks were laid down in the larger main tunnels for minecarts, while hand-powered elevators serviced the shafts which had been sunk for vertical mining. In addition, there were the countless smaller tunnels which emanated from them. When added up, the distance these tunnels spanned easily exceeded several hundred kilometers.
Due to their size, there was no way to fully man them with guards. Even guarding every single shift of miners was beyond them. Therefore, if a monster showed up, the miners had no choice but to drop everything and flee back to the nearest critical juncture, where guards would be stationed.
Unfortunately, as the people on the surface knew well, the Dwarves all had short legs. It would take a miracle for every single person to escape with their lives.
Gondo and the others halted their minecart in the middle of the passage and activated their magical lanterns. They then proceeded into a side passage with their mining tools in hand. Their destination lay at the end of the tunnel ahead — their dig site for the day.
Gagaiz gave his orders, and the miners moved to their positions without any complaints. One to swing his pickaxe and dig, one to split the bedrock with wedges, one to shovel the earth and rock into a basket, one to carry the basket to the minecart, one to push the minecart to the spoil tip—
“All right, let’s start.”
And with that, the day’s work began.
Despite their developed muscles, the countless mechanical repetitions of their work meant that their bodies craved rest the moment their labors ceased.
They stripped off their work clothes and headed to the miners-only bathhouse.
This bathhouse ran off the tremendous amount of heat given off by the gigantic crucibles of the national foundries. Though the water was not very hot, it was the perfect temperature to melt away the fatigue accumulated by their tired bodies.
Gondo filled a ladle with hot, brownish water from a basin, and then dumped it on himself with no reservation.
It would seem there was some sort of iron content in the water, and indeed, one would be able to taste something if they swilled it in their mouths.
This hot water cleansed Gondo’s body of the dirt which clung to it.
He scrubbed hard at his beard and his hair. A dwarf who did not care for and clean their beard could hardly be considered an adult.
“Oi, Gondo! How about getting a drink after this!” Gagaiz shouted as he scrubbed at himself with a towel from a stool opposite of him.
Gondo dumped more hot water on his head and settled into the hot tub before shouting back:
“Afraid I’ll have to decline! I’ve work later on which can’t be put off! Another time, perhaps!”
“Really now! What a shame! If you change your mind, come down to the White Beer Pavilion and have a cup or two with us!”
“Oh! I’ll look forward to it!”
Gagaiz then moved on to talk with his other buddies, and before anyone else could ask him out, Gondo rose from the tub with an, “I’ll be off now!” and strode off.
After towelling himself dry and putting on his clean everyday clothes, Gondo walked up to the counter with the sinister-looking Dwarf manager. He took off the necklace he was wearing and handed it over.
The manager looked it over, and then placed a pouch on the counter.
This was five days’ worth of wages. Due to the fairly high mortality rate in the mines, wages were calculated on a weekly basis. Apparently they had paid a daily rate in the past, but that led to situations where the workers did not have enough to drink at taverns. One could say that the present system was designed to cater to that sad state of affairs. While the pouch before him did contain a sizable sum, Gagaiz and the others would probably spend half of that on beer.
“…Gondo, it’s been a month, if you count today. Let me look upon your face.”
“It’s fine. There’s no problem with my breathing.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, not you.”
He picked up a handlight from the counter, and shone it at Gondo.
Gondo was not happy at the bright illumination, but he continued looking forward.
Inhaling dust particles over long durations degraded the functional capacity of one’s lungs. This caused the skin to gradually turn pale. That condition was called Whitesnow Sickness, and this examination was to see if he was showing any signs of it.
“…Hmph, you do look well.”
“That disease causes strange sounds while breathing. If there are no sounds, then it’s fine, right?”
“…Yes. In truth, I used to discover the symptoms in that way. However, examining the face is more accurate than listening to the lungs. Or are you making light of my experience?”
“Perish the thought. Experience is vital.”
“Then cease your petty griping. It helps nobody. Also, Gondo. Have you not considered a permanent position here? You could be a crew leader. After all, you are quite experienced in that field.”
“Allow me to beg off on that, for I cannot… I will need to leave after this, and I have already accumulated the funds for my travels.”
Gondo had scrimped and saved to the extent that people considered him antisocial, but in truth that was all to purchase the items needed to travel.
“…And where will you be headed now?”
“I intend to delve into the abandoned city, Feoh Raiđō of the south, and go digging there.”
The sinister-looking Dwarf manager’s eyes went wide as he heard this.
“What!.. I trust my asking is redundant, but you do know that place is a dangerous region, no? Who will you be traveling with?”
“To the former question: I am abundantly aware of that. To the latter, my answer is no.”
The more people who moved together, the higher the chances of discovery. Once discovered, some or all of them might have to die. Rather than risk that, it would be better to go alone, and lower the chances of being found.
“…Did you leave something behind there?”
“No. I told you, did I not? I plan to go digging.”
“It is the nature of that digging which baffles me. Can you not do enough digging here?”