The Dwarf slipped into the hole and vanished in a flash.
The cave entrance was narrow, but not particularly deep. Renato could faintly hear the rustle of someone crawling below.
Just as he hesitated over whether to follow, several psionic portals lit up again in the distance.
He had no choice. Renato had no desire to have his brain eaten, so he leaped into the hole and slid down the sloping passage into the darkness.
The tunnel was cramped and winding, its rocky walls rough and slick. Branches split off in every direction, making it difficult to find his bearings.
The underground air was hot and stale, thick with the smells of earth and mold.
Ahead, he could hear the Dwarf crawling swiftly along. He wore Plate Armor too, and the scrape of metal against rock was particularly grating.
Renato followed the sound. The rock walls gradually closed in. Just as he began to suspect he had taken a wrong turn and was about to call out, the passage suddenly widened.
The ceiling was now just high enough for him to almost stand upright, and Renato continued in a crouch. Looking up, he saw the Dwarf had turned to stare at him.
He looked every inch the classic Dwarf, with a thick brown beard woven into heavy braids and a Nasal Helm on his head.
He was short and stocky, muscles bulging beneath his Plate Armor, his whole body as broad as a door.
He held a Warhammer whose head gleamed with runes and was nearly as large as Renato's own head.
The Dwarf spoke in a deep voice:
"Human, where did you come from?"
"Moradin bless you, Folk of the Rock."
Renato tightened his grip on his Longsword and offered the customary greeting in the Dwarf language, then