by Allan Joyal
“When did they arrive?” Roquel asked.
“Mid-summer,” Dared said. “And they have already divided up the land near their homes. Two are setting up terraces on the hillside. They say they can tap into some water under the mountain to irrigate the crops. I have seen that they already have wheat and rice growing in some plots they have developed. The other two are laying out plots on the valley floor. They have planted mostly tubers and yams for right now, but promise to have grains ready to harvest in mid-spring. I guess they have a type of wheat they can plant before the snow falls and it finishes growing in the spring.”
“Wow,” Jerisa said. “But why were there no people here before?”
“It’s a long way from Fairview,” Dared said. “They had no promise of protection should monsters appear. Now they have some chance of surviving thanks to the village.”
“Dared? Does our village have a name? Does our kingdom? You are the king, right?” Jerisa asked quickly.
Roquel coughed to cover up a laugh. Dared looked a bit surprised. He inhaled and held it for a long time as their horses continued to plod down the nearly invisible wagon track. “I never thought about that. I guess the dungeon doesn’t have a name either. Unless you’ve heard otherwise, Roquel.”
“Faestari doesn’t seem to care,” Roquel said. “But I’ve never seen a dungeon that did care.”
“You’ve talked to other dungeons?” Jerisa asked.
“No,” Roquel replied. “But that’s what I mean. The other dungeons I’ve visited never spoke to the adventurers entering. Adventurers would enter, try their strength and either leave, or perish in the attempt. The only time a dungeon seemed to react was if the adventurers violated some rule the dungeon had.”
“Dungeons have rules?” Jerisa asked.
“Not exactly,” Roquel said. “At least nothing written, but most adventurers know the basics. If a dungeon has rooms clearly set aside as a lair for its beasts, you don’t enter those rooms. You don’t try to break down walls or dig new passages. And you limit your use of certain types of magic.”
“Magic?” Dared said.
“That spell we watched cast a few days ago is a great example,” Roquel said. “If they had tried to set that up inside the dungeon’s domain, I expect they would have died before they could cast the spell. Spells that are destructive or that work to capture and hold spirits often anger dungeons. That’s why you’ll never hear of a necromancer trying to enter one. I’ve seen one try. The dungeon slammed its walls on him before he took a dozen steps.”
“Wow,” Jerisa said quietly. “We’re lucky to live near a nice dungeon.”
“Someday we’ll have to try to talk to her,” Dared said. “But for now, I’m more worried about this trip. This will be our last opportunity to purchase the goods we need for the winter.”
“You still haven’t named the village,” Jerisa complained playfully.
“I don’t know what to call it. Naming it after myself seems arrogant and unwise. We are still a very humble community. If Fairview sent an army, they could have no trouble conquering us,” Dared said.
“Call in allies,” Roquel offered.
“When my father dies, Rockgar will no longer be an ally, and we haven’t found any other kingdoms. Do you know of any dwarves or elves living nearby?” Dared asked.
“How about Montgar?” Jerisa said suddenly.
“What?” Dared asked.
“Well, your father’s kingdom is Rockgar. Why not call your place Montgar. It honors where you are from and clearly notes the mountain that is the center of our lives? I guess you could use Dongar, instead,” Jerisa said happily.
“Montgar does have a nice sound to it,” Roquel responded in an equally playful voice.
“Montgar it is then,” Dared replied. “Never let it be said that I failed to listen to my most important advisor.”
Jerisa giggled. “And don’t you forget it.”
The group summited over a small knoll. Ahead they could see a stream cutting across the valley and flowing to the northwest. Four wagons had just crossed the stream and were rolling along ahead of them.
“And that must be Narhert,” Dared said happily. “He said we should catch up to him before midday.”
“We’re going that fast?” Jerisa asked.
“We are moving a bit faster than he is,” Dared said. “But not that much. Narhert said he’d keep the pace of his wagons slow until we caught up.”
“I thought we had to worry about snow falling? Shouldn’t he be worried about getting to Fairview quickly? Or can he load the wagons earlier?” Jerisa asked.
“We’ll come upon a village when we are four days from Fairview. If Narhert’s previous trips worked, three of the wagons will load up there and immediately turn back for Montgar,” Dared said.
“You trust the drovers?” Roquel asked.
Dared laughed. “Sorry, I forget that we met after I came to this valley. Just six years ago I saved Narhert’s life. Some merchants in Poul accused him of pilfering their goods after they hired him to be the main drover of a caravan coming from Zathmorlu into Rockgar. They were about to drag him in front of the caravansary magistrate when I walked by and he begged for me to pardon him.”
“So he survives under your pardon?” Roquel asked.
“No,” Dared said. “I investigated and discovered that the merchants and magistrate were working together. Once Narhert was executed the rest of his family would have been put into a magically enforced servitude to the merchants, and their goods would be given to the magistrate.”
“Wow,” Jerisa said. “So they are a bit like my father. You rescued them. Why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do,” Dared said. “Narhert is an honest man. He and his family pride themselves in making sure the wagons they guide arrive quickly and safely.”
“So the other wagons?” Jerisa asked.
“His brother, his son and his niece are guiding them. His wife has been staying in Fairview with his brother’s wife. They have been working to keep track of any news we might need,” Dared said.
“That sounds a bit dangerous for two women,” Roquel said. “Why not come out to the village?”
“There was no place to stay,” Dared said. “At least nothing more than a tent and both women… were hoping to add to their families this summer.”
“Oh,” Jerisa said with a blush. “Was that news joyous?”
“Narhert has a new son, and his brother’s wife gave birth to both a son and a daughter. Last I heard all the babies were healthy and the mothers are ready to travel,” Dared said.
“So they’ll return with us?” Jerisa asked. She sounded hopeful.
“You are far too happy with that idea,” Dared said with a groan as he looked down the hill to the small stream.
Roquel had stopped to look at the four drovers. The man next to the lead wagon had just a hint of gray in his short hair. His broad shoulders and upright stance suggested that he was still in good health and had many years ahead of him.
The next two in the line were both young children, probably not into their teens. It was a boy and a girl. The two walked with the casual confidence of someone who was sure of their control of the mules pulling the wagons.
The last man had a bit more gray in his hair than the man on the lead wagon. He also was much less broad in the shoulder, but had the same strong upright stance.
“Darn,” Dared said. “Narhert is leading again. We should probably catch up.”
“How do we camp?” Jerisa asked worriedly.
“Both Narhert and his brother Berhert have tents and camping gear in their wagons. They used to work on caravans that would take a full season to finish a route,” Dared said.
“So we’ll just share theirs?” Roquel asked.
“It’s the best way,” Dared said. “And it will keep the horses from tiring out as we ride them.”
“I can walk,” Roquel said. “Especially if we’re going to stay with the wag
ons the rest of the way.”
“I’ll walk some too,” Dared said. “But we needed the speed of the horses to make sure we caught up in time. Let’s go greet Narhert and we’ll escort him to Fairview.”
The trio kicked their horses one more time, heading down the slope so they could catch up to the wagons.
Interlude 3: Breaking the Wrong Wall
The work of the kobolds who dug out new caverns for their rapidly expanding population was barely keeping ahead of their need for space. The bounty of the forest near the cave and the success of their raids on human farms far to the north and east of the cave had allowed the dogmen to gorge themselves. Most of their females had produced two litters each year since the discovery of the strange glowing rock.
Two of the kobolds who had arrived with the chieftain counseled care with the digging, but they were ignored by others who demanded that more caves be dug to prevent the need to split off a subtribe and sending it off to find a new cave. The duo warned of the possibility of the tunnels exposing the kobolds to danger, but were laughed at by the chieftain and his allies.
One of the two worried kobolds was ordered to help in the digging. He surprised the younger diggers by cutting as much stone as they did even as he worked hard to reinforce the ceiling and walls of any tunnel he dug.
This venerable kobold continued to warn that he was hearing scratching and even faint clanks as if a pickaxe was striking stone when he was walking in some of the tunnels. The other kobolds ignored his rants, actually digging faster in the area where he said he was hearing the noises.
Then one day in the early autumn as a small band of kobolds gathered to plan a new tunnel a piece of rock broke free from the wall of the tunnel they were standing in. It flew to the far wall and shattered as a metallic ting rang out.
The kobolds glanced at the wall. A strange pickaxe made of some silvery purple metal had just punched through the wall. Loud hoots could be heard through the hole as the pickaxe retreated.
Two of the kobolds rushed from the tunnel. They headed to the nearest cavern containing a large number of their people. The others spread out in the tunnel and faced the wall. Two more picks burst through the wall, widening the hole.
A massive heavily muscled arm thrust through the hole. The hand was covered in a glove made of a shiny purple metal. The hand grabbed the edge of the hole and pulled back.
More stone was torn away from the wall. The other passage was dark, but squat well-muscled figures could be seen. Two were standing right by the hole and working to expand it as the others readied weapons.
Unseen in a room more than fifty feet above the impending conflict, the light coming from the gemstone grew blindingly bright. It seemed like the gemstone could no longer hold the energy it had absorbed. No kobolds were in the room, but the light spread out into the passages. Many of the breeding females barked in distress as the light illuminated their dens.
The kobolds below had no idea of what was happening in the tunnels above. The hole had been enlarged by the work of the two humanoids from the other side. It now opened up from about a foot above the ground to just above the head of the tallest of the squat humanoids. They were no taller than the kobolds and as soon as the two diggers had backed away the rest of their kind charged forward.
The kobolds standing there only had a few mining tools, but they fought back fiercely. Early in the fight one of the kobolds used a wild overhead swing with a pickaxe. The point of the axe caught his opponent in the collarbone and the pick head drove in all the way to the handle. The dying humanoid fell backwards.
Unfortunately for the kobold, he was unprepared for the sudden death of his opponent. He clung to the pickaxe as he was dragged off-balance by the weight of the corpse. This left him leaning forward just as another of the squat humanoids jumped over the remnant of the wall. This new opponent had a small hammer and he swung it underhand at the kobold’s ribs.
The kobold gave a bark of pain and released the pickaxe. It fell forward and his opponent slammed the hammer into his head.
Far above the gemstone stopped emitting light. The room darkened. Then a presence could be felt. It hung in the room for a moment and then moved downward, heading toward the fight.
Chapter 5: Faestari Feels an Awakening.
Two days after Dared left the village on his journey, a group of adventurers finally approached the entrance to Faestari’s dungeon. The young dungeon was thrilled to see that Kalacho was leading the group.
Faestari was moving to lean her avatar against the wall so she could pay closer attention to the group when Aylia emerged in the pool.
“No! Not now!” Aylia complained.
“What?” Faestari asked.
“I was going to tell you that I had another idea. I think I know of a family of giant otters who wouldn’t mind making a home in the dungeon,” Aylia complained.
“I have many predators,” Faestari said. “The otters would lose their pups. Also wouldn’t they prefer light and sunshine?”
“Set up their room near the end of the stream,” Aylia said casually. “They’ll have plenty of fish to feast on. I’ve checked out the huge fish nurseries you’ve set up and the way the fish are more fertile than normal. And the giant otters would be able to sneak out the way I do when they want sunshine.”
“And get in trouble with the villagers. I know where that stream emerges. Koristal set up a shrine there,” Faestari said.
“Yes, she set up a shrine to her goddess,” Aylia said. “You know her? Cuan Bi, the goddess of mercy and healing?”
“And I should allow giant otters to just pop up in that pool? They’d probably find themselves hunted,” Faestari said.
“Fine,” Aylia said with a pout. “You aren’t ready for otters. I still think they’d made a great addition.”
The adventurers outside had reached the entrance and were pulling out torches.
“I’ll think on it,” Faestari said. “But adventurers are at the entrance. I need to concentrate on them.”
“Why not watch them?” Aylia asked.
“That’s what I do,” Faestari said. “Why else would I sit down against a wall? I was going to watch the way I always do.”
“I know, but its boring to watch. I was saying why not watch in the water,” Aylia said pointing at the pool.
“What?” Faestari asked.
“One of the wizards I served was always worried that another wizard was going to attack him. He taught me to use a spell that would allow me to watch a scene on the surface of the water. Give me a moment to cast it,” Aylia said.
Aylia moved to the edge of the pool. She held her hands out over the water. Faestari watched silently as water droplets fell from Aylia’s hands and splashed in the pool. A moment later the water spirit leaned away from the pool with a sigh.
“It worked. I haven’t used this spell in so long I wasn’t sure I remembered it,” Aylia said.
Faestari slowly got to her feet. “What do you see?”
“I don’t recognize the first adventurer on the stairway. It looks like a group of six are headed down. I do recognize Kalacho. He’s just behind the leader. I think he’s saying something,” Aylia said.
“He’s probably giving some instructions,” Faestari said hopefully. “Right now other than Roquel, I believe he’s the most experienced man in the village. And the Impaled Cats did get several recruits just before.”
“Don’t say any more,” Aylia snapped. “Just get over here and tell me what I’m seeing. You know I’ve never watched when adventurers visited the dungeon.”
“Why not?” Faestari asked as she walked over to stand by the pool. The surface of the water was unnaturally still. In the dim light provided by the crystals Faestari had set up, she could see Kalacho reach out and grab the shoulder of a man barely old enough to shave. Kalacho used his other hand to point at something on the steps in front of the pair as the other adventurers waited higher on the stairway.
“What did he do that for?�
�� Aylia asked. “And I never worried about watching. The few times someone got close you warned me and the rest of the time I was watching you.”
“I’m not exciting,” Faestari said. “And Kalacho was probably warning the new adventurer to watch his step. The kobolds love to set up a warning alarm on the stairway, but its easy to avoid if you watch for it.”
Aylia giggled as Faestari sat down on the shore and gazed at the water. “Oh good,” Aylia said. “I thought that my magic was showing someone’s dreams.”
“It can do that?” Faestari asked.
“That’s what I was told. But I tried to show yours and all I saw was darkness, so I thought I couldn’t use it anymore,” Aylia admitted.
“I’m not sure I dream,” Faestari said. “I don’t sleep. I don’t need to eat, although I can.”
“I’ve seen you lie down,” Aylia challenged.
“Yes, but that’s just this body. I usually do that when I’m roaming my domain in spirit. I’m still awake when that happens,” Faestari responded.
The party they were watching reached the bottom of the stairs. They started to spread out in the first room. Kalacho was watching the walls and floors of the room, but one of the young men paused to look up at the hanging bundles of stones the kobolds had set up.
The man was turning to look at Kalacho when a flat stone lying on the floor of the dungeon lifted up. A juvenile kobold quickly thrust a spike of stone into the calf of the man. The man collapsed to the ground. The other young adventurers all dove towards the kobold, but it dashed for the wall. Another young man chased the kobold as it vanished into one of the tunnels lining the wall, the man dropped to the floor and started stabbing into the tunnel with a large knife.
Kalacho rushed over and grabbed the man by the back of his leather vest. He dragged the man away. The man started twisting in protest. At that moment a spider that was nearly as large as the juvenile kobold appeared at the tunnel entrance and lunged for where the man’s arm had been. It stabbed its fangs into air before retreating back into the darkness.
