They entered the village and were escorted straight to the elder's hall — a round, stone-built lodge that smelled faintly of woodsmoke and ale. Inside, a dwarf with a thick brown beard and a sturdy frame sat comfortably in a chair too large for him, a smoking pipe glowing faintly between his fingers.
"Ahh, travelers," he said with a deep laugh, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. "And humans, no less."
Garp stepped forward, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, Chief, they actually hail from the same village as Elias."
The dwarf froze mid-puff. "Wait, what? That village actually exists?" He blinked, then laughed heartily. "And here I thought that boy was just spouting drunken tales again! Seems I owe him an apology."
He stood, brushing off his coat, and extended a hand. "Allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm Gordon Dwarfin, chief of this fine village. Any friends of Elias are friends of ours. Please, make yourselves at home — we'll see to it you're treated well."
Charlotte smiled warmly, stepping forward. "Thank you very much, Sir Dwarfin. If you don't mind me asking, how do you know my brother?"
Gordon took another puff from his pipe, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling. Then, with a small smile beneath his beard, he said simply,
"Well, let's just say that boy's got heart — and that's a rare thing in these times. Hard not to be drawn to someone like that."
Gordon leaned back in his chair, pipe smoke curling lazily toward the rafters. "So tell me," he began, eyes softening as they fell on Charlotte, "where's Elias? Why isn't he with you?"
Charlotte's lips parted, but no words came out. Her gaze fell to the floor, fingers tightening around the hem of her cloak.
Gordon watched her for a moment — then raised a hand gently. "I see… then say no more." He took a long drag from his pipe, exhaled slowly, and with a deep, booming voice said,
"You know what—let's drink!"
Estelle's expression immediately brightened. "Finally, something I can get behind."
Nova sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Here we go again…"
Gordon laughed, already pouring mugs of amber ale. "Aye, lad! You'll learn soon enough — sorrow never did survive long under good drink and bad singing!"
Charlotte managed a faint smile, grateful for his warmth.
The sound of mugs clashing and laughter echoing filled the tavern hall. The air was thick with the smell of roasted meat, ale, and that faint metallic scent that always lingered around dwarves.
Gordon slammed a keg on the table, foam spilling over the edg. "Alright, everyone! Drink like it's the end of the world!"
"Wait—" Nova began, but before he could finish, Estelle was already holding a mug half her size, swirling it like a connoisseur.
"Cheers," she said simply—then downed the entire thing in one go.
The entire hall froze.
"By the ancestors…" muttered Garp, staring at her in disbelief.
Barp leaned over, whispering, "Did she just… finish that in one gulp?"
Estelle slammed her mug down, cheeks faintly flushed but her tone perfectly calm. "Not bad. Smooth aftertaste. A little weak, though."
The dwarves gasped in collective offense.
Gordon's eyes narrowed, his pride challenged. "Weak, ye say? Hah! That was the pride of Kuraraga! Brewed from the finest grains in the Rulisian valleys!"
Estelle shrugged, "Tastes like pond water with confidence."
The hall went dead silent. Then—
"Bring out the dragon's breath!" Gordon bellowed, standing up with a wild grin.
A cask was rolled out, sealed in iron bands and glowing faintly from within. The air shimmered with heat as it was tapped open. The smell alone made Nova's nose sting.
"Uh… maybe we should—"
Too late. Estelle raised her mug again. "Don't back out now, Nova. You wouldn't let your sister drink alone, would you?"
Charlotte, flustered, waved her hands. "N-no, wait, maybe we shouldn't—"
Estelle and Gordon . "To magic, madness, and miserable hangovers!" they roared together.
The first sip hit like fire. Nova coughed instantly, feeling his throat burn. "This stuff could kill a man!"
Gordon laughed so loud the rafters shook. "Aye, that's the point, lad!"
Charlotte, trying to act polite, took a tiny sip—then immediately turned red, eyes watery. "H-hot! It's so hot!"
Luma squeaked from her shoulder and flapped in panic, as if the air itself had turned to fire.
Meanwhile, Estelle just smiled, calm as ever, swirling her mug like a queen judging fine wine. "Hmm. Better."
When the night finally died down, Gordon was slumped over his chair, the Howler twins were singing incoherently about potatoes, and Charlotte was fast asleep on the table, using Luma as a pillow.
Nova, face buried in his hands, groaned. "I thought we came here to rest…"
Estelle, still perfectly sober, took another sip and smirked. "This is rest. You'll learn."
Gordon's home was modest but built like a fortress—sturdy stone walls, dim lantern light, and the scent of oak and smoke heavy in the air. The rain outside drummed softly on the wooden shutters as he poured each of them a fresh mug of ale.
"Alright," the dwarf said, leaning back in his chair, pipe between his teeth. "Now that we've all had a fair share of drink and laughter… how about we drop the formalities? Tell me, travelers—what's your real business in Rulisia?"
Nova chuckled, resting his elbows on the table. "Cunning, aren't you? Getting us comfortable first. Classic interrogation tactic."
Gordon grinned through his beard. "Hah! I'm a dwarf, lad. We don't interrogate—we drink till the truth comes out naturally."
Nova smirked, swirling the ale in his mug. "Even so, we weren't planning to deceive you."
Gordon raised a brow. "Oh? Then let's hear it."
Nova's tone sharpened. "We're looking for someone—the Vampire of Chaos."
The room fell silent. Only the faint crackle of fire filled the space.
Gordon blinked once. Then he burst into laughter so hard the table shook. "Ahh, that's a good one! I haven't heard a joke that suicidal in years!"
Nova didn't laugh.
The dwarf's grin slowly faded as his eyes met Nova's—steady, unwavering, golden-brown and burning with intent.
"You're not joking…" Gordon muttered, pipe falling from his mouth. "By the stones, you're serious."
Nova leaned forward slightly, voice low but clear. "Maybe I've gone mad. Maybe chasing her is a fool's errand. But madness or not, it's something I have to do."
The dwarf studied him in silence, the smoke between them swirling like mist. Then he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're either the bravest man I've ever met… or the dumbest. But damn it, I can't decide which."
Estelle chuckled quietly from her corner. "I've been asking myself the same question since the day I met him."
Charlotte frowned softly, looking between them. "Still… we can't turn back now."
Gordon exhaled slowly, then reached for his mug again. "Well then, Nova Stoner… if you really plan on walking into chaos, you'll need more than courage. You'll need allies who've already lost their sanity."
Nova raised his brow. "You volunteering?"
Gordon grinned, sharp as an axe edge. "No, lad. But I know where to find some.
Gordon leaned back in his chair, smoke from his pipe curling lazily toward the ceiling. "Now I see why you're heading to Rulisia," he said, voice low and thoughtful. "You're after her, aren't you? The Shebeen Queen."
Nova's eyes flicked toward him over the rim of his jug. "Oh? So you know about her. Guess that saves me the trouble of explaining."
Gordon snorted. "Know her? Boy, everyone who's ever needed something impossible knows of that woman. But here's a word of warning—nothing with her ever comes easy." He jabbed his pipe in Nova's direction. "She doesn't sell information. She tests for it. Deals with her never go straight."
Nova swirled what was left of his ale, watching the liquid circle the jug. "So she's unpredictable, huh?" His tone was calm, but there was a flicker of challenge in his eyes. "Tell me then—what does she like?"
Gordon chuckled. "Alcohol. She practically breathes the stuff. But don't get the wrong idea." He leaned forward, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "The Shebeen Queen has tasted everything under the sun. Nothing excites her anymore. For someone who loves drink, she's cursed with never being satisfied."
Nova's smirk deepened as he set the jug down with a quiet clink. "Then maybe it's time someone gave her something new."
Gordon's brows rose, half in disbelief, half in amusement. "Hah. You're not normal, lad. There's this… look in your eyes. Not pride—something else. Like you've already decided you can't afford to lose."
Nova met his gaze. "It's not that I expect to win," he said softly. "It's just… for the sake of everyone who's counting on me—I don't get the luxury of losing."
For a moment, Gordon was silent. Then a slow grin crept across his face. "Well said. You're insane—but I like it. You've got the kind of conviction that makes the world spin."
He lifted his mug and nodded. "Here's to you, Nova Stoner. May the gods have mercy on anyone who stands in your way."
Nova smirked, raising his jug to meet the toast. "Oh they'll need that blessing alright."
Meanwhile, danger stirred elsewhere—unseen, yet destined to intertwine with their path ahead.