The foreman listened as Dreyfus offered the pact — sanctuary in exchange for their craft, their legacy woven into the bones of a newborn city.

He glanced at his crew, proud and tired. Nods were exchanged. A quiet murmur passed like a prayer.

“We accept,” he said, planting his hammer into the earth. “We will build. But… our kind only knows the crops of the deep. Mushrooms, lichen, stone-root. No sun-grain. No surface meat. If we are to stay, our bellies must be considered.”

Jira chuckled softly nearby, “A civilization can run on stone and pride — but not for long.”

The dwarves bowed and began setting up camp around the unfinished gate.

The torches flared as the night deepened — and from the far side of the Hollow, shadow peeled from shadow.

She arrived without sound.

Tall, silver-eyed, skin like the inside of a raven’s wing. Draped in layered cloths of star-thread and living silk, the Night Elf Matriarch glided forward, flanked by silent sentinels with blades made of shadowglass.

The dwarves froze.

Hammers paused mid-swing. Stone clattered. One grizzled mason muttered, “Well. The spiders have come.”

Dreyfus raised a hand before tempers rose. “This is Velessai, leader of the Umbran Host. She protected this Hollow long before our arrival.”

Velessai inclined her head — just barely. “Dwarves,” she said, coolly. “I did not expect to smell iron and beard oil this far from the ruin-choked mountains. Tell me — does stone still weep in your halls?”

The dwarven foreman, bristling, crossed his arms. “Only when cursed shadows crawl through the cracks whispering secrets best left buried. Tell me, do your people still drink moonlight to forget their shame?”

A tense silence followed.

Dreyfus stepped between them. “You’ve both seen too many wars and buried too many kin. This is a new place. I won’t have old blood soaked into its foundation.”

The foreman snorted. Velessai gave the faintest smile — not of amusement, but of interest.

“We’ll see,” she said.

“Long as they don’t sneak around our bunks,” the foreman grumbled.

“Long as they don’t collapse the ceilings with their drunken singing,” Velessai replied.

And yet, neither left.

Now came the second task: how to feed them.

> Dig Deep Farms – Carve vast caverns beneath the Hollow for subterranean agriculture. Luminous moss, giant mushrooms, and crystal-fed springs. Slow but sustainable.
> Portal of Plenty – Open a stable rift to the Dimension of Fried Chicken. Food rains daily. Morale soars, nutrition plummets. Possibly addictive. Definitely greasy.
> Living Feast Beast – Bind a docile regenerative monster. Cut it, cook it, and it regrows. Ethical nightmare or culinary miracle? Depends on the seasoning.
> Seed the Hollow – Enchant the Hollow itself to bear edible fruits and roots. The forest feeds the builders — if it agrees to the transformation.
> Write in