by C L Carr
“Well, it could be worse.” Olie broke the silence as they assessed the situation at hand. Browlie thumped him on his head.
“Aye and you should have hit him harder, too.” Daelin said sarcastically. The general was not in a good mood; they were after all cornered. “So, they have found a way into the mines and have the main entrance locked down from what we can tell. Thanks to Artirius the mine is closed off, pretty securely too, I might add. Then there is the trade road. That too was closed thanks to our friend Tressnou. For now it is safe to say we are trapped, but secure.”
Derril nodded, “Yes, you are right. The main door is closed tightly, if they were able to destroy it, the matter in which the doorway itself is designed would prove to their disadvantage. If sufficient force is applied to push it in, the door will collapse, but in doing so the mechanisms above will bring down half the mountain, including the entire entrance hall. It is designed as a defensive retreat plan. In this case it would simply act as a greater barrier for us here.”
“Or trap us more thoroughly, depending on how you look at it,” Tressnou was being pesimistic.
“In this case, a deeper hole will benefit us more. I think. It gives us time,” Daelin looked over the group. “For now I think we take advantage of our confinement. We can use this time to prepare. Secure the wounded and stabilize them to move if needed. In the mean time we keep people here listening for any signs from the mine or main halls.”
“Agreed,” Derril nodded, “what do you need from me?”
“Get some of your boys working on putting together some sort of fall back defenses in these halls, from both ends. Also get some ears here and at the underground trade roads. We will need some warning when they decide to come. They will be wanting our blood soon enough, so we need to be ready when this goes down.”
“I’ll get on it now,” Derril moved quickly to the living quarters of the workers and soldiers stationed here.
“Well, what do you think then, Tressnou?” Daelin looked at the wizard.
“That we are in an interesting position. We will be able to hold off attacks for some time with our resources, but eventually our supplies will run out. Realistically there is little more we can do but wait. I agree with your preparation plans. We best assist where we can.”
“Yes, they could use our backs, well maybe not yours Tressnou, but you never know.” The group laughed at Artirius’s comments.
“I must correct myself, you used to amaze me,” Tressnou smirked. He turned away laughing, heading for the infirmary.
“Olie, Browlie, make yourselves useful and assist Derril.”
“Yes, sir. Will do.” Olie and Browlie got moving.
“One exceptional weapon you have there, Artirius. I have never seen it’s equal.”
“Many generations ago my grandfathers crafted this weapon, when the magic coursed more heavily in their veins. Titan craftsmanship at its finest. I can only call on that power, every few days at most. It is like the power of an entire storm, forced into a single ball of energy. It was useful in the Untamed Isles several times. I have never used it here on the mainland.” The two warriors looked over the weapon. Artirius seldom took the time to do so. It was actually beautiful. Imbued with magic, the weapon did not scratch, dent, bend, or show any other signs of damage, even after years of conflict. The long shaft looked like braided metal woven together in tight strands. For a grip, where there would traditionally be leather, this weapon instead had soft rope twisted together to make it thick enough. It was then woven tightly around the weapon, which had a notch on the base of the hilt to tie off the rope. There was even a loop of the material left at the bottom to put a wrist through if desired. The head of this weapon was massive, solid, and powerful. The sides of the hammer’s head were adorned with swirled etching and large oval shaped sapphires. The ends were slightly bowed out in the middle, not perfectly flat as some were designed. The weapon shone in the light, and it pulsed occasionally in a soft aqua color as magic coursed through it. The power of storms pulsing lightly in their metal home. The weapon was heavy, beyond heavy, really. A strong man could hope to wield it in two arms. Artirius could hold it in one.
“Well, good human, shall we see what we are able to do?” Daelin asked.
“Yes, let’s do that. One way or the other we are going to be fighting, whether it is to keep them out, or to get out ourselves.”
“Truly spoken.”
The two went to work, assisting where they were needed. Several hours went by before the group ate in the galley, the injured were served their meals in bed. The dwarves, Tressnou and Artirius were dusty and tired but more work was needed if they hoped to hold this place. The dwarves had managed to put together some barricades that would allow them to fall back as needed. If a retreat was necessary, a system, too complex for other races to comprehend, was put in place, which would collapse the walls of the hall. It would take time for their foes to break through, and in doing so they would be vulnerable to attacks from the dwarves. They had constructed two of these mechanisms on each end of the hall. As miners, and more importantly as dwarves, they crafted stone as readily as an expert woodworker crafted wood, and more quickly. A third and fourth version of these defenses were already being constructed.
Artirius sat with Tressnou, Daelin, and Derril at a table up front. They discussed tactics that could be used if and when the defense was needed. The fact that the enemy may wait them out also came up. They even tossed around the idea of digging a brand new tunnel out. Stretching and yawning, Derril looked up toward the ceiling.
“Aye,” he said excitedly, “this old dwarf is forgetting things that could very well save our hides! There, right there, and I cannot believe I forgot it, ha ha ha ha ha.” He continued on a short time laughing at himself.
“What are you talking about?” Daelin asked.
“This old dwarf forgets the mine that he helped build. You see, and I know that as a dwarf you will know most of this, Daelin, but please bear with me as I explain to those here that do not live in the mountains and mines. You see, in mines as you dig deeper and deeper air becomes less plentiful. So, you need to have methods for the good air to circulate down and the bad air to circulate out. Dwarves have been doing this work for many, many millennia and have perfected these methods. Just above you in this ceiling, you may or may not have noticed the metal grates. Well these are the ventilation covers. We have a more developed system here in the galley area due to the smoke and gases let off by burning fuels. The area above every ceiling from this service area, to the mines and to the main hall has this ventilation system in it. The exits are actually huge holes high in the mountainsides, also covered with these steel grates. The exits themselves pump in massive amounts of fresh air the way they are designed.”
“Alright, so we have described to them our ventilation system. We have little use climbing out, and you know that. So what use is it to us,” Daelin questioned the elderly dwarf.
“General, we have no need to use them to escape. We can use them to attack.”
Caught a little aback by the comment, “We really do not have the numbers for a counter offensive, and how, pray tell would we assault a relatively secured force outside the doors we made?”
“Well, I will not argue with you on that point. Our numbers are a bit slim. But as the vent passages run over the entire hall, it is possible to cut down, and into the hall itself. When the time comes, bam. Drop the ceiling killing anything below and dropping us into them. We are bottle necked any other direction. This way we can cut them off and create our own line. Once the area is cleared we can use the main door to filter in the rest.”
The group thought over the idea. Tressnou was the first to respond, “There is one issue with that plan of yours. Though it is tactically sound, they will hear you cutting the rock when you get close enough to drop the ceiling.”
“I could handle that,” Artirius looked over the group.
“You can make rock break quietly?” Tressnou asked.
> “No, but I can make the noise it would require to keep their actions silent from our enemies.”
“How?” Daelin asked.
“These beasts. They are a braver bunch in a group this size. Normally in small groups they would just kill something quietly from the shadows, unknown and unseen. They do not like open confrontation. But they are in a war band. Honor and glory are earned for them among their people through show of strength. They know that we are aware of their hold on the halls outside the door. If we rush out in force they would kill us because we would show a greater threat. Instead, I can give you the time you need. How long Derril, to cut through?”
“Five minutes working fast and not keeping the noise down, but still now I too am curious Artirius, how will you make the noise we need?”
“Simple, I can call them out. I will open the door and confront them. They will wait, to see what is going on. They will think, most likely, that you are using me to negotiate, beg for our lives, or something of that nature. We all know they would never be so courteous to allow that to work. Close the door behind me, but keep it cracked just a bit. When you hear the shouts begin, they will be at their sport.”
“What sport is that?” Derril asked.
“An old dwarf and you don’t know,” Daelin chuckled lightly. “You are sure you can endure it Artirius?”
“Of course.”
“What sport?” the old mining dwarf asked again.
Tressnou looked to the old dwarf, “They will compete to take our friend’s head, fair dwarf. Generally one at a time, they will wish to show their superiority over the rest of the pack of wild things. If they get too wild or afraid they may come faster, may engulf you.”
“If they sent half of their number, I would be fine, it is the second half that I worry about,” Artirius smiled. “I assure you, I can give you the five minutes you need.”
The group sat in thought, Daelin began to utter, “The problem is that we just don’t have the numbers to fight off…” he was cut off as Olie ran in from the tunnels.
“The trade road. The beasts are clearing it. We hear the digging.”
Tressnou looked over the group, “Well, we may not have to worry about getting out then.”
“No, perhaps not,” Daelin looked intense, “Do they come from the mine and the hall, as well?”
“No, sir. Only the road.”
“Time to dig in, Derril. Let’s get these boys moving. We will focus on the defenses near the trade road for now. Any idea how far off they are?”
“Hard to tell sir, they are digging furiously though. I would have to say a dozen or more yards at least, but that is not far.”
“Alright. Olie, you and your brother get the soldiers ready, and pick out a few dwarves that can handle a weapon well. Get them geared and ready to position when I need them.”
“Yes, sir. Will do.” Olie ran off out the door grabbing a few dwarves as he did so.
The group looked over each other. Artirius broke the silence, “Well if we are lucky, after we kill them all in this hole, we will just have to move their bodies out of the way. They will have taken care of all the rocks.” The comment received a few light smiles. “Not as funny as I had hoped, but it is hope nonetheless.”
Tressnou spoke next, “Hope, is what we need now, as well as preparation.”
Daelin nodded, “I agree friend, let us four do just that.”
At that, the group got to work. They organized the defenses and helped in the construction of the baricades. An hour or so passed and the digging in the tunnel inched forward. Muffled yells were heard from the other side, but they were not easily made out. The anticipation was intense as the dwarves, man and elf dug in. An half hour more passed and as much as could be done was. The fourth barricade was prepared, ready to use if needed. They dug in waiting and listening. The yells were coming louder now, and sounding more and more distinct, though not orc or gnoll. It sounded like something they all could make out clearly. They waited a little while longer and finely, from the other side, the voice came through, “Hello in there, can you hear us.” It was the common tongue, shared by humans, elves, dwarves and their ilk.
“Aye we can,” Daelin yelled.
“Are you all right in there? How many of you are there?”
“We have some injured but most of us are safe here.”
“We are working our way to you, sit tight.”
Derril looked to the miners, “Don’t just sit on your rears, get them moving. Get me a pick and shovel. Come on now let’s dig. Our brothers are helping us out, the least we can do is move some stones for them.”
The dwarves started in on the rocks. If they were naturals at carving and crafting stone, their abilities at digging were supernatural. They cut and crushed and reinforced the work as they went. In no short order they heard their brothers on the other side of the pile. They were digging too, and just as hard. Now it was like a race, the dwarves competing against one another to see who could break through more stone. It took another hour, but finally holes broke open and the brothers greeted one another face to face. Within minutes the rest of the debris was cleared away. The face that stood out to them first was Balic. Next to him were two dwarves that Artirius was not familiar with.
Tressnou opened up warmly and relieved, “Ah, Balic, for the first time in my whole life I am glad that I hired you.”
The laughs poured out from all around them, “Well this is one of many times that I could care less to see you,” the dwarf retorted.
The laughter continued a moment as Tressnou nodded to the dwarves near Balic. Daelin nodded too, and acknowledged his brothers. The first dwarf on the left, who was stout and scarred all over his strong body, with shaggy black hair all over his head, he called, “Norrak.” The dwarf next to him all blonde and blue eyed, an oddity among the dwarves, he called, “Bulzad.”
Bulzad looked over the situation and asked, “What has happened here? The beasts I am assuming.”
Daelin responded, “O, aye. We got here as they were beginning to storm the halls. Derril’s Point was nearly taken and would not have lasted much longer. We decided to close the road when we got here. The company was not all that desirable after all, so it did seem like a good idea, until the beasts were at the front door and in the mines.”
The newly arrived dwarves nodded. Tressnou looked to Balic, “So you have been busy then, my friend. How did you all come to find us?”
“Well,” the dwarf smiled, “for once I just did what you told me.” Tressnou smirked a little snidely. “Now, now let me get to the story. Anyway, I made it over to the hills and met up with Norrak and his hill tribes. When I told him that his brothers could use a hand (and in my case a pint) he was very willing to help us out.”
Norrak nodded and gruffly replied, “Hate those ugly beasts and their dog friends on their hind legs and what not. I am pleased to be here to help, and the hill boys are behind you.”
Balic continued, “Then I found my way to the Eastern Mound with Norrak and his boys in tow and met up with Bulzad, whom I know at least Daelin is familiar with. For you two though, he is the general assigned to guard over that city. When he heard there may be a chance to kill some orcs, gnolls, or, well to kill ugly evil things, he and his boys came along for the ride.”
Tressnou looked over and nodded, “Not that it does not greatly relieve me to see you all here, but how did you know to come here first, you didn’t have time to get to Deep Hollow that quickly and I doubt word would have made it to you.”
“Funny story there,” Balic began, “Bulzad, you tell them. After all it was your idea.”
Looking over the group and shrugging, “Well, it was a tactical decision really. Knowing that the gnolls were active on the ground up north, we did not want to take the chance to get caught here in the south. They could have found a way down from the mountains and either see us or attack us before we could get to Deep Hollow. So we decided to take the trade roads underground. There were enough of us that s
ecurity would not be a problem on those roads.”
“Aye, that is true, but the road from the Eastern Mound does not come up this far north, at least not the shortest path,” Daelin looked on a bit curiously.
“Well, to be fair, that was a bit of luck,” Bulzad looked aside and shrugged his head over his shoulder the way they had come from. “You see your handy work most likely also saved you.”
Artirius looked a bit bemused, “Handy work?”
Looking to the human Bulzad said, “The weigh station. You obviously scared off some of your attackers there because as we neared the turn to Deep Hollow, some of their friends ran into us. There were only a dozen, a little less to be exact, but no problem really. So dwarven curiosity got the better of us and we marched on to find some already very dead gnolls and orcs.” Bulzad paused a moment, “Then we found our brothers’ pyre. It was still a bit warm, we figured less than a day. So with some thought, we decided the best move would be Derril’s Point, seeing as we found signs of you travelling that way. I sent two dozen dwarves on to Deep Hollow to inform the king of the happenings at the weigh station.
“The rest of us moved on. When we got closer we started smelling the beasts, ghastly smell really. Anyway, we came up behind them. There were seventy-two of those creatures and they were digging. They wanted back in. They of course are very stupid and doing such a poor job of it we decided to go ahead and relieve them of the responsibility and take care of the digging ourselves. Took a couple words to convince them, maybe an ax or two, but they gave in. Once we cleared them out, we started digging.” Bulzad finished looking around, “Well Daelin, sir. You are the superior here now, my boys are yours.”
“And mine,” Norrak chimed in, “If our mountain cousins need a hand then we will assist you. Besides, I very much enjoyed the killing so far.” Now most people would assume that this was meant to be a joke and most of the group smiled at the comment. Norrak did not. He meant what he said deeply. The hill dwarves were much harsher than their mountain dwelling cousins. They were good, but hated evil things to the point that killing them was like a responsibility to them. They kept a vigilant eye on their hills, and did not tolerate even a hint of trouble. They were actually in some ways similar to Artirius and his Barbarian people, though they were more adamant about purging evil.
“So,” Norrak continued, “what happened here then?”
Tressnou looked to Daelin who nodded back. The elf described to their rescuers all that had transpired: The council meeting in Deep Hollow, the travels along the trade road (he left out the secret passage of course), the encounter at the weigh station, and the breaking of the monsters’ line. He went on to describe the happenings in the mines themselves and the main hall’s “infestation” as he worded it. Lastly, he described the status of the dwarves, the deaths, injuries and need of mending. He also described in detail the plan they had devised to reclaim the main hall.
Taking in everything for a moment the newly arrived dwarves understood the situation well enough. Bulzad motioned to one of his men, “Get our clerics now; they can be of assistance here. Go,” the soldier hurried off down the line to fulfill his commander’s order. Bulzad continued, now speaking to the group, “The mine’s healing staff is younger and less experienced than our clerics. They can tend these wounds for you. We may consider getting some of the miners out of here and some of the injured that will need to rest after the holy prayers mend their wounds.”
Daelin looked to him, “Yes, agreed, how many dwarves did you bring with you.”
Norrak barked, “Forty good berserkers from the hills. No healers but not much need for those.”
“I have brought an hundred regulars, eight defenders and six clerics from the Eastern Mound.”
“Well, that is something then,” Daelin was deep in thought a moment. “Sooner or later dwarves will be coming down from Deep Hollow. Most likely Riley and Nugget will have gotten there. If I had known the degree to which we were getting infested when I sent them, I may have changed my plans. No use worrying about that now though. Bulzad, get twenty of your regulars ready to take these miners and some of the injured out of here. Derril, I want the soldiers who were stationed here to accompany them as well, I don’t care if they don’t want to go, it is not contestable. Once all the boys are stable they will all move out. I will need the clerics to stay, though.”
“You had best not try and kick me out Daelin, I won’t go,” Derril protested.
“I never mentioned you, did I? Trying to get you to leave your precious mine would be foolish Derril. No, I need you the most. You know this place better than any, and because of that you are worth a mountain of gold to me right now.”
“That is a relief,” the old miner smiled.
“So, General, we are doing this then,” Bulzad looked to his one and only commander, save, of course, the king himself.
“Yes. We do not have the time to route them from above ground. I am sure they would get the scent well before we got to them. They will not expect this. We are banking a bit on Artirius here of course, but I think that if anyone could give us the time we need it would be him. So let’s get moving. Derril, borrow a few soldiers here and get them in the vents and show them what to do, we need some big openings so don’t play around.”
“Will do Daelin. Bulzad I’ll be needing thirty boys.”
“I can handle that,” Bulzad responded.
Daelin turned to Norrak next, “Your boys will be the first moving through those doors when the time comes. Once the ceiling is down you’ll push forward. The regulars will create the line by using the holes in the ceiling as their means of entrance. Once we close off the halls we’ll clean out the creatures and secure the upper entrance. Simple as can be.”
Norrak nodded, “Yes. I agree with that. This will give us a great opportunity to slay some more evil flesh today. I will get my boys ready and near the front entrance.” Bowing low he turned and headed back to the trade road to get his boys. The berserkers were not really a group that prepared for battle. They more resembled the rabid fans of an athletic team preparing to cheer them on to victory. Their barking could be heard all through the service hall and if they were not lucky the gnolls, orcs and ogres outside the door may hear them. Their excitement revitalized the dwarves as they worked so they were left to their wailing.
“Bulzad,” Daelin looked to the lower general, “I need you to get your boys in motion, take care of the caravan out of here, I am sure Tressnou can help you with that. Once the civilians are on their way, we will get the boys up in the hole and to work. Derril, make sure they don’t get too close and either bring the ceiling down or give themselves away early.”
Bulzad and Derril nodded and each went to attend to their tasks. Tressnou looked to Daelin, “I will help them get the miners on their way. When this fighting starts I will join the ceiling crew, if there is enough room for me, in the vents, that is.”
Daelin nodded, “I would talk to Derril, but knowing that one, he was always interested in designing things well. The vents should be at least four feet square; you’ll have to kneel, maybe even crawl as you are a foot taller than a dwarf, but you should fit. Ha ha, never imagined we would be using the vents to assault foes on our own home ground.”
“Stranger things have been known to happen. For now I will help prepare what I can. Good luck my friends,” and Tressnou moved to assist the others.
“Well, my quiet friend,” Daelin looked up to Artirius, the last two people standing still at this point. As dwarves scurried around them, busy at their tasks, “are you sure about this?”
Looking around at the dwarves all about the hallway and back down the trade road, “Yes, I am. If this fails, you will need to have a fall back strategy. If we break, then I will hold the door while your dwarves escape to the trade road, and I will close the door again myself, and follow behind you.”
Daelin shook his head, “And you really believe that my boys would run, or fail?”
The que
stion was not meant to be answered, even so Artirius responded, “No. I most definitely know that you will all stay here, and fight to the end. This is your land, as men covet the earth above you do the same to the land below the ground. You are proud and honorable people. You will not leave.”
“And besides,” Daelin began, “they are just stupid beasts. You better go rest while you have the chance. Your work will be the toughest of all.”
Artirius nodded and tapped the dwarf on his shoulder. He could use a rest. He moved down the hall and found Derril.
“If you need a place to rest, then go to my room. It is just off the soldiers barracks, it will be quiet there.”
“Thank you,” Artirius smiled. He rose and went to find Derril’s quarters. After moving through the general quarters and closing the door to Derril’s room, he fell to the bed and slumbered easily.
As he drifted deeper, and deeper into sleep, he dreamed. He had not done this since his stay in Alastriel. The dream was like the original, the grove of trees in the winter. It was high in the mountains. It all looked familiar, but something was wrong with it. He looked up and did not see the sign he was used to. The two embracing lovers were not in the sky. It was replaced with a different sign, the sign of Galmatros.
The voice came from in front of him, it was deep and rumbled slightly. It was a harsh voice. “Hello, Artirius.”
The Barbarian looked down to see a drow, the dark elves that lived deep underground. It was not right for a drow, though. Yes, of course he was handsome as any elf. The dark, dark gray, nearly black skin was sleek and flawless. His high cheekbones stood out on his face. The beautiful white hair flowed from his head to the middle of his back. He was clothed in black robes, adorned with red gems and small skulls. He had an evil look about him, just as a drow should. What was off were his eyes. Most drow had vibrant colored eyes, purple, deep blue, white in some cases. Some occasionally had red eyes. But not like this drow. His eyes pulsed like untamed flames, a vibrant red, but not the red eye of a drow.
“Who are you to invade my dreams,” Artirius challenged.
Smiling, the drow looked to Artirius, “O simple creature. You do not understand. It is all right. Suffice it to say I am the one behind this little uprising. I have also been blocking these dreams of yours. Whoever has been sending them to you, has yet to notice. Foolish creature, too. Why the deities loved your plane, your races… nevertheless, I give you a warning, Artirius. If you go away, back to where you came from out in that water, you will be spared.”
“Galmatros?” Artirius questioned.
“No, no fool. He would not trouble himself here. My name does not matter. I am just a champion of his. Call me Pyr, if you need name me. For some reason, Galmatros wants you out of the picture, and is being generous with you. He does not make offers like this. Now I am done with you flea, listen well to what I have offered. Do not be foolish, though I doubt you can even comprehend what you are gifted. Now go back to your world, they will call you soon enough.”
“Wait,” but as he said it the world around him faded away and it was all black. He sat up in bed covered in sweat. He had longed to dream, but now he regretted the desire.
Chapter 9
