by C L Carr
The spear moved in quick. Riley grimaced in anticipation. The spear never hit its mark. Nugget’s shield thrust forward, and caught the spear. The combined forces splintered the weapon. Nugget’s pike found the flesh of an orc and fell him. Riley found his feet, moving with his back to the wall, his shield protecting him. Artirius moved past Nugget to the left, as his hammer found an orc. Daelin moved to join Nugget, the pike end of his ax catching an orc. He quickly spun it upward his ax end finding its mark and another orc fell. Tressnou moved to protect Riley, who had secured himself behind his tall shield. Browlie and Olie were in the fray as soon as the doorway cleared. Olie fell in beside Artirius and Browlie near Daelin.
They could hear the gnolls growling amongst the orcs now. The creatures moved in quickly from all around them. Two orcs made a move on Daelin, his ax caught one as he ducked the other. Browlie caught the orc his general had dodged solidly on the back of the skull with his shield. He switched his grip on his pike and picked off the next one moving toward him. A gnoll lunged at Artirius. It was nine feet of hyena like dog standing on hind legs. It held in its paw like hand a mace, which it swung toward the great barbarian. He spun away from the move and let his momentum guide his great hammer around him hitting the beast in this leg. Spinning back around he caught the gnoll in the chest with the weapon, laying the gnoll out on its back.
Olie moved past Artirius, meeting an orc with his shield, bashing it back. The stunned beast caught a pike through his chest. Nugget met a gnoll’s mace with his shield. The blow pushed him back slightly, but the same happened to the gnoll as his mace ricocheted off its target. Daelin slid in with the pike end of his ax piercing the gnoll, his hammer end swung up to intercept an orchish sword. Artirius caught the gnoll’s leg on a back swing of his weapon, and with a powerful swing across his chest, he met two orcs charging in on him with enough power to send them both away. Riley stepped forward, pike in hand, finishing off the gnoll in front of him. Olie met an orc with his pike and one moved at him still. His shield held that one back, and with a quick bash it was knocked away. He let his pike fly, finishing the job.
Three gnolls moved toward Nugget. He plowed hard into the first. Before the others could catch him, Artirius and Daelin were there. Artirius did not give the gnoll near him time to attack. His mace swung upward hard, catching its jaw. The snap was enough to break not only the creatures jaw, but most likely its neck. It left the ground several feet, and landed hard on its back. The gnoll did not move. Daelin ducked a blow and piked the foot of the one he faced. The pain caused the beast to fall forward just to be hammered down by the general. Browlie moved in to assist Nugget, his pike sailing overtop the shoulder of his comrad and squarely striking the gnoll. Nugget finished the task with his own pike.
Browlie had left a small gap in the defensive arch, which had been formed protecting Riley. An orc moved in toward the seemingly unarmed Tressnou. With the snap of his wrist he stopped the orc several feet before he was encountered. He raised his arm quickly into the air and the orc was flung some eighty feet to the very ceiling. Tressnou dropped his arm and the orc fell. With the crash of the orc on the floor any remaining creatures fled. There was no reason to be slaughtered anymore.
The battle was won, but they did not have much time to waste here. This was only a short skirmish many more would come, longer ones would come. The group moved to check the dead, as Tressnou examined the injured Riley. They found the mark of Galmatros on each of the felled creatures, seared into their flesh. The demon’s hand was moving here. What was his purpose, his gain? It was not possible to know surely. Aside from that, nothing of importance was on the beasts, a few coins but nothing else. After assuring that no immediate danger was waiting for them in the surrounding area, they checked on Riley.
“Well, I am no cleric but I believe I can do something to help. Don’t move young dwarf be very still.” Tressnou moved his hand up and focused on the arrow, not actually touching it but meditating on it. “This next part will hurt some, so be ready.” Tressnou held his hand out just above the arrow, and, as though he were grasping at the thin air above Riley’s shoulder, he gently closed his hand. Slowly he pulled his hand away from Riley, as he did the arrow was pulled out, by an invisible force. The pain was intense, but the defenders were able to block out things of this nature. Riley grimaced, but he did not shout. The arrow slid out entirely. It was tipped with a barbed head, which did intense amounts of damage to its target. Riley bled freely.
“I did not wish to simply pull the arrow out, some piece of it may have broken off. Now, this is the part that will hurt, are you ready friend?”
The dwarf nodded, “Aye.”
Tressnou again focused on the back, and moved his hand over the deep wound. It seemed to bleed more now. The bleeding needed stopped. Tressnou closed his eyes for a moment. They slowly opened and as they did he breathed deeply in. Then with a quick snap of his wrist and a snap of his fingers a pop was heard in Riley’s shoulder and a little smoke billowed out. Even the tough dwarf cried out. The bleeding had stopped, though. “As I said I am no cleric. The arrow is out and the bleeding is stopped, a little fireball closed your wounds. You will need a cleric though for it to be of much use again.”
Riley coughed a bit, “Thank you very much, great wizard. If I ever wish to feel like I am dying again, I’ll be sure to call on you.”
The group chuckled a bit. The humorous mood did not last. They had little time to stand about. One way or another, they needed to get moving again. Some decisions needed made. Daelin looked to Riley. “How is it then, can you use it?”
“The arm, sir? Not likely, but I only need one arm to kill these beasts.”
Daelin looked off into the space around them, thinking carefully. “All right,” he sighed after a brief pause, “Riley, in your wounded condition you will be a liability if you keep on with us. Therefore I will make you valuable. Nugget, you and Riley will be returning to Deep Hollow.”
“Sir…” Riley began to protest.
“No son, I am sorry. You are a great warrior and your courage is not in question. Besides you both have an honorable task to attend to. Back the way we came is a path that splits off to the right. This path will bypass the Undercross and hopefully those monsters too. It will take longer though, about half a day I would say. Get to the king, tell him of what has happened. Request two hundred regulars, twenty defenders and tell him I would like Ludo. If this was our greeting at a weigh point, hard to say what Derril’s Point will bring to us. Luckily the beasts ran off a different direction than we came and did not head to Derril’s Point. Most likely ran off to their dens. Anyway, Riley and Nugget, you understand your mission correct?”
Both dwarves nodded, “Aye.”
“Good, good. Keep your heads up and your shoulders low. If you get in trouble, keep yourselves alive.” The last words of the general hung heavy on everyone.
“Good luck to you, friends,” Artirius nodded at the dwarves.
“Thank you, and if I don’t see you again Artirius, it has been a pleasure to see you in person, at work,” Riley smiled at the massive human. Nugget nodded in agreement with his remarks.
“The same to you, good dwarves,” Artirius returned the compliment.
Daelin looked the two soldiers over, “All right then, off with you. Bring me back an army.” The good soldiers saluted the general. They moved quickly, Riley with only his shield the injury to his shoulder too much to really use a weapon. It would be about three days for them to get back and three more to get to this point. Add another day to that and it would be seven days, with luck, to get some dwarves to Derril’s Point.
Tressnou spoke next, “How much longer do you believe it will take us to get to Derril’s Point at a run?”
“Running, six hours with one break,” Daelin estimated.
“Pretty specific estimates aren’t they?”
“Did it when I was younger, took me four then, but I did not have an elf.” The group laughed a bit.
“Or a dimwit,” Olie motioned toward Browlie with his head. In return, the brother flogged him.
“This will be quite a jog,” Artirius looked off into the darkness, a little jealous of the vision his companions had.
“Aye, it will,” Daelin added in. “Well, are we all ready for this then?” No one in the group contested him. “Then keep on my heals, we have a lot of ground to cover.” With that, the trot began. The group moved fast along the corridor. Artirius was a little relieved because the others were not able to move as fast as he could. His impaired vision was less bothersome to him, when they moved slower. The group showed great stamina, years of conditioning at work. Even Tressnou the wizard kept his pace, which was amazing for his profession. Like a machine they kept going, going, and going, on and on. They were fueled by necessity, urgency. Until that fuel had burned out, they would keep moving. Three hours passed but the group did not rest. There was no way they would be stopped. Pushing forward further and further, that was all they could think about. What could await them around any corner was not a concern to them, at the moment. Four hours passed and still they kept moving.
It was Tressnou who heard it first, and he whispered to the group, “Wait.” They came to a sudden stop. Ahead of them and around a bend they could hear noises now, orcs and gnolls certainly. The group panted lightly and looked around. They listened more carefully now. They were relieved to find that no notice of their presence was evident. The beasts were at work with something, it sounded nearly like fighting.
Daelin’s eyes widened, “They assault Derril’s Point. It lies beyond that bend some hundred or more yards. They are many, I see now their torch light ahead.”
Tressnou looked ahead as well, “This may be somewhat more risky than our last encounter, so…” he clapped his hand lightly together and produced a quarterstaff out of thin air. It was white and glowed slightly. The top of the staff was adorned with a beautifully crafted replica of the tree, Alastriel’s Heart.
“How many do you think there are, Daelin?” Artirius asked.
“More than two, less than ten thousand, fair guess eh?”
“Fair indeed, how will we go about this?”
Daelin looked ahead, “Keep low and quiet. Stay near me. When we move it will be quick. We’ll see if we can push through them by surprise. Knowing those beasts they’ll be on top of each other and not looking behind much. I pray we don’t run into our own in the fray, but odds are they will be falling back to better defenses. They only have a garrison of twenty soldiers here, seventy odd miners, and a small infirmary crew. Though all the miners could fight, they will not be well equipped, or prepared. Derril should be close to the fight, too. He runs this place. We need to get to him and close off this attack.”
“I will attend to that, just keep moving forward everyone, and I will close the door on our unattractive friends.” Tressnou gripped his staff a little tighter.
“I will hold you to it friend. Ok, follow me everyone.” And so they did. Daelin kept low. This section of the corridor was better defined than the trade road had been thus far. It began to resemble masonry walls, floors, and ceilings. It narrowed a bit, to perhaps thirty feet wide. They kept moving on slowly. The sounds of the monsters were getting louder, inch by inch. The creatures were ravenously assaulting the mine site. The corner was only feet away, and the creatures were not ceasing. Daelin peaked just around the corner and motioned for the others to move around with him. Olie and Browlie moved each to a wall, Artirius to the center, Daelin just behind him. Tressnou stayed back slightly.
Before them was a sea of limbs and bodies. Orcs and gnolls lined the hall packing it tightly. They numbered near one hundred at least. Just beyond the masses they could hear the fighting dwarves, desperately holding the line. They were only a few yards from being pushed back into the service halls of the mine. Behind them lay the store rooms, sleeping quarters and infirmary, beyond that would be mines and entrance halls. The sea of monsters was surging forward. Artirius motioned for the twins to come in close to him. He looked back at Daelin and Tressnou. They were all ready. Artirius looked forward.
He roared a fierce battle cry. It rang above the fighting and stopped the wave in its place, for a moment. The few creatures in the back looked on in fear, momentarily stunned, unsure what to do. Their fellows in front of them trapped them. Artirius ducked low and aimed his shoulder. He ducked down slightly farther, then like a great cat propelled himself forward. He was an engine that would not be stopped. The first orcs tried to scramble away, but to no avail. Artirius steam rolled on into them. Fighting and pushing they prodded on. Unable to turn around the monsters could only be run over. Those that were pushed to one side or the other were beaten away by Daelin or Tressnou. Gnolls and orcs alike were flung aside. The shields of the twins acted as plows, as did the mighty shoulders of Artirius. They neared the frontlines of fighting. They had pushed through fifty feet of their opponents, and only had a few more feet of churning left to go.
When they were closer still; the sea of monsters seemed to stop moving forward. Daelin took the time to yell, “Dwarves of Derril’s Point, get to the hall. We are closing this road.”
Ahead of them they saw the dwarves that were squatting behind their defenses. They heard the words of the general, not all realizing it was him, but still listening. They all fell back slowly. The sea began to surge forward a bit at the sign of retreat, but not soon enough. Artirius burst through their front lines with Olie and Browlie. They spun hard as Daelin and Tressnou passed them. They batted away the first few attackers and walked them back slowly.
Tressnou yelled, “Move them back, and when I say, turn and run.” So the three did as they were told. Hammer flew, and shields slammed. Artirius held back twenty feet of the hall himself, leaving five on either side for the dwarves. They pushed the piles back, even against the surging forces.
“Run, now.” The order came, and they did. Artirius and the twins rushed passed Tressnou with the sea of foes swelling forward to swallow them. The wizard grasped his staff in both hands, raised it in the air, and brought it down. The staff cracked the stone it struck. A sheet of air flew from the staff. It seemed to cut the walls and ceiling. The beasts moved forward, feet in front of Tressnou, foaming at the mouth to kill.
Then the ceiling collapsed on them. The crashing crushing sounds echoed loudly. Many of the beasts in the front lay dead inches from the wizard, paws and hands still squirming slightly. This door to Derril’s Point was closed, for now.
“Well, that was close,” Tressnou turned to face his companions, “Shall we go in?” and he strode right past the group.
“Elves,” Daelin sighed. He, too, moved into Derril’s Point, Artirius, Olie, and Browlie behind him. The trade road met Derril’s Point at a fifteen-foot wide hall. The hall ran some two hundred and fifty feet. On the side to the left were two doors spaced out rather evenly, on the right there were three. Here and there stood tired dwarves, many bloodied and injured. Tressnou stopped near one and asked of Derril. The dwarf motioned to the door in the middle on the right hand side. Tressnou nodded and motioned the group to the door. Daelin moved first. He rapped.
“Come, come…” was the call.
Daelin opened the door and moved in, the others following the lead. This was the infirmary, most certainly. It had not seen this much work for some time, if ever. Four beds lined the wall, small tables between them. These were all full with what looked like severely injured soldiers. One corner was covered by screens, an area where surgeries were preformed, or examinations maybe. On the floor in one corner were four mounds covered by sheets. Along the last wall counters and shelves held various supplies of a medical nature. In the center of the room several cots were set up to add to the capacity. Those lying here seemed less distressed then the ones on the beds. Two clerics busily moved about with two attendants. They cleansed and healed what could be with their divine gifts, but with so many hurt it was not possible for their powers
to keep up with the work. They had to resort to the classic healing methods, bandages, salves, stitching, cutting… they were a little out of practice of course, as in general these methods were seldom needed. Among them, one stood out. The fifth dwarf in the room moving quickly to aid his fallen. Derril Farpoint.
He was a tall dwarf, a little over five and a half feet in height. His hair was gray and dusty as most mining dwarves. His eyes were deep and warm. His face had seen more years then even Ceadric the great king of the people. The hair on his head was braided in a single strand which fell nearly to his knees. Oddly for a dwarf, his beard was trimmed, still full and fluffy just not long and dangly. He did not notice the group at first, but as he turned to tend to another wounded dwarf his eyes caught Daelin.
A bit shocked but obviously relieved, Derril embraced the general, “Aye, old friend. Nice to see you made it to my party.” He looked off to the cloth covered mounds in the corner.
“What are we looking at Derril? What are our losses?” The general could not rest yet. He had work to do and though he knew Derril was shaken by this, he needed answers from the old dwarf.
Derril’s words came slowly, “Eighteen injured, four more gravely so, and four dead. We were very lucky Daelin, very lucky.”
“Have you secured the upper hall doors yet?”
“They are closed and locked, but that is it thus far.”
“Olie, Browlie, grab some men and head up the passage. To the left will be the doors leading to the upper halls. See what is on the other side, carefully. If it is safe for the time then look about, if not close it up. The mines will be to the right… Derril are anymore down that way?”
“Yes, a few I think. They are very deep down.”
“Right then. When you head up that way send also a few down to the mines, and get them back up here quickly. Go now.”
Olie and Browlie saluted and quickly left the room, tending to the duties they were given. The conversation continued between Daelin and Derril.
“So what happened, friend?”
At first Derril stared off into space. Then he looked down and wrapped up a miner’s arm. Derril spoke as he worked, “They came from the road, obviously. One of our boys went down to the weigh station to check on the soldiers there. He arrived as the beasts were killing them. As soon as he realized what was going on he turned and ran. The beasts heard him though, and they chased. He was so young…”
“Please, go on Derril.”
Choking and coughing a bit Derril moved on to tend another lad, to him a lad though these were full grown adults. “He managed to get here minutes before the beasts. They had caught him with their arrows and spears. He was bleeding badly, near death. His honor and loyalty, they kept him alive so he could warn us. He died in my arms,” Derril looked to the mounds in the corner. He paused a moment, then continued, “We made quick fortifications up front. They were pathetic. We were working on the ones you passed near the trade roads when they came. Nineteen soldiers and twenty miners did their best to hold off the horde while better fortifications were made in the rear. As their brothers fell the clerics and their helpers made sure that they were brought back. We would not have our family eaten by them. Three more fell and twenty were injured before the fortifications could hold them back. Two more were hurt after that. If you had not arrived though, those dwarves would not have held much longer, Daelin.”
Daelin was grieved by the losses but could not mourn now. “Where are the rest of the injured?”
“The ones who are not in immediate danger are in the bunk rooms. This infirmary was designed for no more than eight, with only the average sort of injuries and ailments. We are not stocked for war here. Luckily, this long stretch of hall holds all our stores. The food stuffs are stocked well, and the mining supplies and a few arms are secured, they are down the hall toward the upper entrance halls and mine. The doors you passed here were the soldier and miner quarters. I have a room off the soldier quarters as well.”
Daelin was in thought. He did not seem to move for several minutes. He blinked, “Where could those boys be? Artirius do you mind seeing what is going on, Tressnou and I will help tend to things on this side of the hall.”
“I’ll check on them, no problem.” The great man rose and walked out into the hall. He headed to the right, in the direction Daelin had instructed. As he reached the end of the hall he heard yelling coming up form the mines. He moved quickly round the corner. He just narrowly dodged a spear flung from somewhere in the dark. Three dwarves stumbled forward with a fourth and a fifth behind them. “Are there more dwarves down below.” Artirius yelled
The startled dwarves shook their heads, no. Grasping his great hammer tightly, Artirius called upon the weapon. “Thunders Fury, forged by titans, your thunder is needed today.” The weapon glowed bright blue and shook slightly in the barbarian’s hand. He looked to the mine entrance to his right. He stepped toward it as the first gnoll was visible, an orc skating along behind the beast. They now were the ones to stumble as they saw the great man wielding his shining weapon. A tide of their own people hit them from behind, and propelled them forward. Artirius raised the weapon high in the air, and let it fall. The blast was fantastic. Shear energy burst from the weapon, arching through the approaching throng. Its effects on the mine were even more destructive, as Artirius had wished. The ceiling held for a second, but snapping and crashing sounds abound. The beasts that were not in the front ranks quickly turned, some were too late, as the mine collapsed.
Only a few dozen feet behind Artirius was the doorway leading to the upper halls. It flung open quickly, an arrow skated through it, on the ground, as Olie and Browlie jumped through with another soldier. They slammed the door shut and barred it with a steel beam as the miners and soldiers who had fled the mine cranked a large handle near the doorway. A thick slab of stone fell from the ceiling and deep into a crevice in the floor below. Derril’s Point was closed.
Chapter 8
