Trapped in this cavern for so long, the dwarf had gradually picked up some of the Ferngill Republic's common tongue.
Though skilled in bomb-making and mining, he'd given up on escaping after strange creatures—worse than monsters—appeared in the mines. Defenseless without weapons, he settled into cave life:
- Planting cave carrots in muddy patches
- Diverting underground springs with tiny dwarf-made pipes
- Stockpiling winter roots and their seeds
This routine lasted until moments ago—when an intensely sweet aroma drifted through the rock crevice.
Cradling the Moomoo Milk bottle, the dwarf's eyes—hidden under his helmet—glowed like red bulbs.
When Ron asked where to find other dwarves, the dwarf took another sip and pondered.
"Most live underground," he said, tapping the ground. "We're born miners. Maybe search other mines? I've been cut off from my clan for ages."
"But if they smell this nearby…" He shook the bottle. "They'll come to you. Got more? I'll buy it!"
He'd do anything for this drink.
"I can pay well!" he added eagerly.
As a long-lived race, dwarves hoarded precious ores and coins from centuries of trade with miners. He also had human trinkets scavenged from the mines.
Ron was about to agree—but his gaze swept the cavern, landing on the dwarf's ingenious tools:
- Retractable faucets for irrigating carrots
- A miniature computer tracking winter root locations
Since the farm's sprinklers were nearly fully deployed, Ron saw opportunity.
"Rattata will deliver milk later," Ron said. "But in exchange, I need you to invent something."
"Something?" The dwarf tilted his head.
Ron explained: transporting Pelican Town goods to Kalos.
The dwarf paused, hugging his bottle. "I'll need my clan—and a friend. You know him—he lives in the forest. Folks here call him… the Wizard."
Ron nodded, thanked him, and rode the mine cart back to the farm.
After sending Rattata with milk, he headed straight to the Wizard's Tower.
Last visit: over 30 days ago. The Wizard had asked him to find a Beldum in Kalos—but Ron's exploration was still limited to Santalune City and its forest.
At the coal-dark spire, the door creaked open before Ron could knock.
Inside, the Wizard stirred a bubbling cauldron.
"I know why you're here," he said, back turned. "You need a totem to send goods to Kalos."
Ron confirmed.
"The totem isn't hard," the Wizard continued, "but I'll need Ectoplasm and a Psychic-type Pokémon. I can draft the blueprint, but dwarves must build it."
Ectoplasm came from ghostly mine foes—manageable.
For Psychic-types, the farm only had Indeedee.
No rush yet. Ron noted the requirements.
"Return when you have Ectoplasm," the Wizard said as the cauldron boiled over. He frantically stirred his staff. "But your Pokémon must stay three days. Prepare for three days without its help."
"Understood. See you then."
FLASH!
Ron blinked—and stood outside the tower.
Back at the farm, he assigned the task to Abigail upon her evening return from the mines.
No urgency, but best completed before summer's end. When sending Abigail to Kalos, he'd lease land and start building a processing plant.
As for the dwarf's kin:
- One dwelled in the main mines
- Another in Ginger Island's volcano caves
- Possibly more in the desert mines/Skull Cavern
(A/N: Unmentioned in lore but plausible)
After paying Pam and Shane, Ron entered the cabin.
He'd kept some chicken meat for dinner.
Chopping ingredients, he directed Rattata to wash veggies. No recipe this time—but months of cooking granted intuition. It wouldn't rival Gus's dishes, but it'd be edible.
Still, securing Gus's recipes for future Kalos imports would be ideal. Sell the meat as "Kalos specialty," obscuring its Pelican Town origins.
Soon, savory aromas filled the cabin.
Pokémon gathered around Ron—protein cravings sharp—as they awaited dinner.
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