The Lone Wolf Saga: The Lone Wolf

by C L Carr

The two left shortly after Balic. They left by means of the northern path. It was just as beautiful as the one Artirius had come in on from the east. The northern trail lead them for a short way alongside the Hollowed River. It received its name because its origins were very near the great city of Deep Hollow. Fish seemed to glow here and there in the waters. Lantern Fish, they were called by the elves. Nature and the elven magic would never grow old to Artirius. It was the greatest work of art, next to untouched nature, that existed. The journey went smoothly through the forest. It slowly became less dense as they traveled, thinning out more and more until hilly rolling plains opened before them. The trade road was well traveled, and the two had little trouble on it. They passed occasional dwellings, and, on some occasions, inns that catered to travelers. They did not need to stop often, for neither tired easily.

  Their first news of Deep Hollow came from Hilltop, a trade town several days north of the great forest Atel. It was located where the trade road from the north split into the southern and eastern branches. Artirius and Tressnou came up, what was to the town, the southern trade route. The town was sometimes called “The Port on Land.” Not only did this nickname represent its purpose as a trade town, but it also represented the sleighs that were used to travel the plains. This was the windiest place in all Norta Masa. As such the people here harnessed that power. By creating a cart with a sail-like contraption, it was possible to literally sail the hilly plains. The vessels were cone-shaped in the front nose and the sides slid back to form a triangle. Wind could flow well over the crafts. On a good day it was possible to travel faster than horses across the plains, a great experience.

  They arrived at the town nearing nightfall. The outskirts were mostly temporary dwellings, some traders here to sell their wares, others simply travelers passing through for the night. The few permanent shop owners had living space at their shops. For those who wanted overnight accommodations, arrangements could be made at some local inns and taverns, though you paid the price if you wanted quality. Tressnou made arrangements for them at a nicer inn in the town. It was nicer because it at least had a roof, and for that matter, rooms. Some inns simply had large sleeping areas with cots in rows. This town was for trade pure and simple.

  The two decided a drink might be a nice idea, and at the same time a great opportunity to learn of anything happening in Deep Hollow. Neither had traveled here often, so it was a guess as to what tavern would offer the most gossip. They found a tavern built of logs and stone. The roof was thatched together from the many local grasses and reeds that grew in the region’s rivers. The nearest waterway was some miles to the east and the reeds most likely came from there. It was a well put together building one way or the other, and it was busier than the rest of the taverns in town. They entered and found it hard to acquire a seat, but nonetheless, they found one. They sat for awhile and listened to the patrons of the bar. Little of interest was said for most of the night.

  As the crowds thinned, a dwarf was overheard at a barstool. “Aye, things in Deep Hollow are all messed up. The northern road is closed, the main gate that is. A couple small roads will let you to and from the north of course, but those could be quickly closed and are easier to defend. The gnolls are doing odd things, damn long-legged hyenas. I have never seen them lay such precise plans of attack, or any plan for that matter. Something-smarter than them must be behind it. What that something is, is beyond me. One way or another, they need dealt with before they draw the attention of other players. Orcs and Ogres would have no problem joining in on this if they thought it were worthwhile. With the gnolls doing most of the work they would be more likely to join.”

  After listening to the dwarf speak, Tressnou commented to Artirius, “So Balic was right. We must make this a short journey. By the time we get there, Artirius, this situation may well have escalated.”

  “Yes, it may have.” Artirius downed the last of his drink, “Let’s get back to the room then.”

  “Agreed,” The wizard responded.

  The two slept well. Artirius did not have the dream. Since the night he spent in Alastrial, he had not. It was beginning to bother him. Something must be happening. It may easily interfere with his meeting with Atriel. It very well could mean that the old elf was dead. The pair woke early. The room had been paid for the night before, so they needed only to eat a quick breakfast before leaving. They ventured out of the town before most of it was even awake. Tressnou had procured a “sail boat” for the journey. By using the land boat, they hoped to cut their travel time to one quarter of what it would be on foot. Additionally, they would not have to worry about fatigue. As long as the weather was in their favor, there seemed to be smooth sailing ahead.

  As if to mock their urgency, they ran into storms only hours outside of the town. Luckily the ship was not slowed too greatly. The vessel shredded water well and was designed to naturally drain any water that may land on the deck of the little boat. After a few days the storms subsided and the travel picked up its pace. They crossed the great Hollow River, and continued north. The western branch of the trade road met up with the southern one; as they neared Deep Hollow. The road began to steadily slope upward as they entered the mountains. It was necessary to leave the boat at a dock, near the base of the mountains. The space was owned by the same company they rented the boat from, so there was no need to return it. After securing the boat, and gathering up their belongings, they continued up the trail.

  They passed the first of many guard towers that lined both sides of this southern pass. Any force foolish enough to travel this way would definitely meet nearly insurmountable defenses. Not only was the slope relatively steep and winding, but the towers were designed to collapse into the road, acting like a wall. The debris would take a long time to move and in the mean time, many attackers would be lost attempting to climb forward toward the dwarven hold. In total, five sets of massive towers lined the pass, covering over one mile of uphill terrain.

  About four hundred yards in front of the southern gates, the terrain sloped slightly downward. This terrain would look like a welcome sight to any attackers that would make it this far, but of course it was not. Underground paths were cut here by the dwarves. When the attackers moved across this area their attention would be on the gates of the great city, threat from below would never cross their minds. When the dwarves below sprung the traps, it would be the end for the first attackers. The ground would literally flip over, and whoever was aboveground would find themselves trapped below; sealed in an inescapable tomb.

  Finally, if the gates were met they too would serve as a nearly unbreakable obstacle. Three round stone doors would roll in place interlocking, forming a twenty-foot thick wall, and reinforced in-between by layers of steel bars. On the inside, three large steel bolts would cross the door as well. Entering this door would take immense power. If anyone would attempt to breach the door, areas of the cliff could be opened to pour fiery oils on attackers, as well as hurl small boulders from modified catapults. They were designed with hinges on the main arms. Though the arms of these catapults were short, the hinge helped give leverage with a snapping motion. By making adjustments for distance, the boulders could hit targets as far as four hundred yards away.

  If a siege survived these perils and broke through the gates, the dwarves had miles and miles of tunnels that connected the cities from West Hollow to the Eastern Mounds. The trouble with these was that they were just like roads above ground. It was far too extensive to guard the entire route and it was possible for other things to occasionally move in to unguarded areas. The main cities themselves would have enough time to close off such routes in and out if needed to avoid attack from underneath. Along the way, some guard posts were set up with minimal forces, they were designed more as weigh stations to move to and from the cities. Passersby and the relief guard duty always left some supplies so the stations stayed stocked. It could be days of travel in between these stations, and unless you had an intimate knowledge of the tunnels
or understandings on the dwarven designs, than you may easily be lost forever.

  Even with intimate knowledge you may not be safe. Cave-ins could easily ruin a route or cut you off from a turn. If a new tunnel had been formed or dug, you could take a wrong turn. Sometimes that turn could bring you to the den of an evil spider, a tribe of goblins, or maybe even the worst enemy in the dark, the drow. Dark elves were terrible foes that enjoyed torture. It was not good to run into them.

  If it was impossible to escape below, for any reason, there was another route. For ventilation purposes, vents could be found throughout the great city. Each one had a ladder on the inside. It served a dual purpose. The first was maintenance. Every so often it was necessary to clean the vents, and the ladders made it an easier task. The second purpose the ladder served was access to the mountains above. It was only possible to open the vents from below, so no one whom accidentally stumbled on them would be able to access Deep Hollow. The dwarves designed things very well. They had to, in order to guard some of the greatest treasures and forges in the world.

  Trade in the south had not yet been affected by the troubles in the north. People were coming and going through the southern gate without being severely encumbered. The guard duty was increased somewhat but not greatly. The dwarven defenders were very imposing. They carried pikes in one arm and shields as tall as themselves in the other. On their backs were the specially designed dwarven axes noted for their broad blade with a blunted hammer for a head and at the tip of the hilt, a pike. They also had short swords belted to their sides and as a last resort, daggers sheathed at their ankles. These warriors were not commonly on guard duty, usually the more lightly armored gate keepers were here. These were the first precautions in their alerted state.

  Coming into the great entrance hall Artirius and Tressnou saw bustling trade all around. They scanned the area around them, taking in the dwarves’ marvelous craftsmanship. Columns spanned the length of the room, which was enormous, in four straight rows. On each pillar was a story, carved by generations of dwarves. One told of the quest to find this great place, others of the trials during and after the founding. One of the greatest stories was of that of the first great Ironfist. Geophry Ironfist lead the forces of the dwarven army to a great victory over an orc invasion many generations ago. They pushed them out of the halls and all of the central mountains of Norta Masa. The orcs were spread out to the north and south and even this many years later had not recovered completely from the losses they suffered. From that day forward the Ironfists had lead the clans of dwarves around Deep Hollow. The current leader was Ceadric, a great king. It was he who Tressnou and Artirius sought out.

  The royal halls were not difficult to find, they stood out greatly. Two massive doors with the crest of the family stood centered on the eastern wall of the entrance hall. The crest was simple but powerful in meaning, a circle made from rubies. The circle stood for the great bond the dwarves had as a family, a complete union that could not be broken. The color red represented fire, fierce and powerful; the dwarves would be unified and deadly to all enemies. In the center, made of iron, was a fist clutching a hammer. It rested facing upwards on an anvil. This represented the craftsmanship, the ingenuity, and strength of the dwarves. The strength came from their forges and their deity, Maldor. This symbol was found on most of the uniforms of the military, though rubies were not used, nor iron. The cost would be a little outrageous if that were the case, and it would be a little heavy. Generally, this seal was simply embroidered in the center of the armor, or in some cases tabard, that the soldier wore.

  Approaching the guards to the royal doors, Tressnou spoke.“Good dwarves, we seek audience with the king.”

  The young defender, clearly unsure as to how to handle this situation and unaware of either of these well known figures, looked to his fellow. Neither knew the two standing before them. “Well,” in the gruff voice of a dwarf, “what be your business?”

  Tressnou would normally be amused by this but due to the nature of the situation he was not, “Dwarf if you do not know whom I am, that is fine. But pray do not waste my time with foolish questions while dogs bay at your doors. Get your commander out here and let me speak to him.”

  The dwarf looked quite put aback from the comment. Giving a sideward glance to the other guard he turned and entered the hall. It was only a few minutes before he came back. His commander was talking as they came.

  “Everyone thinks they are so important these days. An elf you said?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And some human, big fellow, you said?”

  “Aye sir.”

  Their steps neared the door. “Like I have time to waste on this…”

  The door opened and out came a solid dwarf. He wore the tabard of the clan over his plate armor. It was not shiny as man’s armor. It need not be. It was dulled by years of war and conflict, for this dwarf had lived many centuries. His eyes were deep and knowing. His nose was big like most dwarf noses. His beard was long and braided, it came to just below his belt. It and his hair were black, but signs of silvery gray were working their way in. Wrinkles lined his forehead like timelines. On his back was his dwarven ax, at his side a longsword was sheathed. It glowed slightly. Magic of some sort was imbued in it.

  The dwarf smiled, “Tressnou, old friend.” He extended his arm offering a shake.

  The young dwarf guard looked confused.

  “Why did you not tell me who came calling at this gate boy?”

  The young dwarf tried to stammer a response but the older dwarf cut him off.

  “Ah, enough out of you. Forgive the young one, friend. He has his heart in the right place, but has not yet gained his head.” The dwarf looked over to the guard who looked down, a bit embarrassed.

  Tressnou spoke next, “Daelin, it is pleasure to see you again old friend.” The response was warm and honest. “I’m sure you know who this is,” he motioned to Artirius.

  “Oh, aye. Artirius for certain. I know you have spent time in these halls, human, though I do not think we ever talked at any length.”

  “No we did not, but it is an honor to meet you, general.”

  “Well I do believe I know why you are here. I thank you for that, unusual times these are. Well, let us go and speak inside. Conveniently the king is about to discuss the conflict at hand. By chance, how did you hear of the gnoll’s attacks up north?”

  Tressnou responded, “Balic, of course.”

  “Ah, that dwarf,” Daelin smirked. Turning to the young guard and now scowling, “Well come along then, my guests. And if you feel like delaying anyone else of importance son, go right ahead. I’ll have you feeding the livestock for the rest of your service if you do.”

  The young guard looked stricken. But he was a dwarf, stout and proud, loyal to his house. He saluted his general. “Sir.”

  The general guided Artirius and Tressnou into the royal halls.

  “Did you need be so hard on him Daelin?” asked Tressnou.

  “Tressnou, you may be wise but you have never and will never be a dwarf. That boy will make a fine soldier. If you saw what they did to me when I first signed up, you may very well be mortified.”

  Tressnou chuckled lightly.

  Guards stood every few feet along the passageway. The group passed the guard quarters and royal kitchen, both located near the front of the royal quarters. Then a great hall opened in front of them. A huge tapestry with the clan’s seal hanging above a fireplace was directly across from them. This place was used for formal dinners and special parties. Off to the left, guards stood in front of a passageway. This housed the royal family and royal treasury. The four guards here were like the tip of an iceberg. Many more would be found in these halls, ready to die if needed in the defense of their king. The group headed to the right, only a single guard stood here. He bowed as they passed. This passageway led to the war room. The hall was short with a few rooms off to the sides where special visitors could stay. At the end of the hall was a l
arge door with the crest of the clan, smaller but made of the same materials as the great doors leading to these halls. Two guards were here at attention as the general approached. Daelin saluted the guards and stopped at the door. Taking a quick breath he knocked.

  “Who wishes entrance.”

  “General Daelin.”

  “Then enter, sir, to the war room.” The door swung open slowly. Daelin nodded to Artirius and Tressnou and they followed him into the room.

  Chapter 5