Gorimirden
Under The Mountain

Gormirden have slept, lieing on his pile of gold. He didn't moved when the bunch of dwarves came to his cavern.
All of them were scarred- in soul and body.
The dwarf who led them, was young. His beard barely have covered his neck- he wore broken golden helmet- the helmet of the king.
"Gormirden! Awaken! Me- Bogorf son of Eldarif summon thee!" He shouted.

The left head opened his eyes, while the other remained unphased.
"What is it, young king?" He have asked.

"I'm here to tell you, that.. our deal is off. My people starving and so few have remained of us.. so we won't give you anymore tribute of Gold and Virgins."

Now the other head awakened, with their noseril widening and smoking.
The right head grinned evily. "Very well. We'll eat YOU. Right now."
The dwarves pulled their weapons.
"Stop this, Den." Said the main head.
He eyed the young king. "I CAN destroy what ever left of your stupid kingdom," He said,

The King looked at him. "Yes, you might. But if we will give you such tributes as before, we will simply perish slower. We prefer to die soon at battle by a noble dragon, then by the coward claws of starvation."

Gormirden. "I see. I guess I'll have to do something about it."
"Eat them?" the right head have offered.
"No. We will save our kingdom. On the long run we need this kingdom to be rich and well."

The King bowed. "We'l.. wait."

Gormirden roared, he gotten up, streching. "Very well. I'll go find something to save you." He said and with his monstrouse fore claws started to dig his way- almost as fast as flying