The Dwarven Rebellion

by J. J. Thompson

  Hallic grinned at the king's warning.

  “Understood, my lord,” he said as Shandon began to move forward. “But I do love a challenge.”

  “Rogues,” Jergen said to Pieter as they followed the king.

  Mel and Annia smiled at the exasperated tone in the warrior's voice, but remained silent.

  The passageway behind the wardrobe led steeply downward and quickly began to spiral to the right. There was no light beyond Hallic's wisp and Shandon watched his footing carefully. The steel soles of his boots raised sparks against the steps as he descended, making ghostly flashes in the darkness.

  The others following the king found it difficult to see their own feet in the almost complete darkness and a few moments after they began their descent, Josper and Khara created glowing wisps of their own and set them to float above the heads of the group. After that, everyone moved with more confidence.

  At the bottom of the spiraling stairwell, they reached a sealed door. It was made of heavy iron and appeared to have no handle or hinges.

  “How do you open something like that?” Hallic asked Shandon.

  “It responds to the touch of one with royal blood,” the king replied as he removed the gauntlet from his right hand and put his palm against the door. “No common usurper could open them, not even my son who does have some royal blood flowing through his veins. To do that, he would also have to know the secret combination for each door.”

  He ran his hand over the surface of the portal, marking out a complex pattern. When he lowered his arm again, the door's edges blazed with blue light and it faded out of existence.

  Several people gasped and Shandon looked over his shoulder.

  “Hurry through,” he told them. “The door will only remain open for a short time.”

  He led the way forward again and everyone followed along smartly. Commander Brokk was the last in line and he glanced nervously at the opening as he strode through it. As he passed the doorway, the portal re-materialized behind him and the commander breathed a sigh of relief.

  The journey through the depths took the group through four more doors before they reached their destination. They continued to descend, but there were no more stairs. Instead, the passages sloped gently downward, turning and curling around in great sweeps. The air smelled of ancient dust and it became warmer as the dwarves journeyed deeper into the darkness.

  A last sloping passageway led to a final heavy door. This one was not made of old iron. If gleamed in the darkness and elicited admiring comments from some of the dwarves.

  “Gold?” Hallic asked the king as his wisp reflected off of the blank sheet of metal.

  “Something harder than gold,” Shandon replied as he removed his gauntlet again and touched the shining surface. “An amalgam of some sort. I don't know what combination of metals went into its forging, but there is a strength in the portal that gold simply doesn't have.”

  He made another series of passes with his hand against the door and then stepped back from it. This time, the door did not dissolve like the others had. Instead, several mystical symbols appeared briefly on its surface and then the door slowly descended into the floor and disappeared.

  “We're here,” Shandon told everyone. “Please extinguish your lights and keep your hands away from your weapons. This is a place of peace.”

  There were many puzzled glances among the group, but the mages canceled their magical lights and Hallic recalled his wisp and watched it disappear.

  “Good,” the king said. “Let's go in.”

  He walked through the open doorway and the others followed along. Once everyone was inside, the golden portal rose again and cut off their retreat.

  Just inside the room, the king stopped and the group spread out around him.

  They were standing in heavy darkness. The air was still and very dry, with not a hint of odor. A dozen yards ahead, though, a large orb of silvery light sat on a pedestal. It swirled and danced silently as the watchers stared at it in fascination.

  “What is it?” Odella asked softly. “I can feel no magical emanations coming from it at all.”

  “Nor can I,” Josper agreed. “How strange.”

  From behind the orb appeared three hooded figures. They moved silently around the glowing sphere to stand in front of it. The group could feel the unseen eyes of the trio staring at them, weighing their worth.

  Jergen made a slight motion toward his sword and Shandon seemed to sense it, even in the darkness.

  “Don't!” he barked at his old friend. “Aggression will not be tolerated in this sacred place. Stay calm, Jergen. We are in no danger here.”

  With obvious reluctance, Jergen dropped his hand to his side.

  “Understood, my lord,” he replied.

  “Good. Everyone, stay here. This shouldn't take long.”

  Shandon moved forward and crossed the chamber to stand a few feet in front of the silent trio.

  They bowed in unison and the king nodded in return.

  “Welcome, your majesty,” one of them said evenly. “We are pleased to see you well.”

  “Thank you. I am relieved that you are still here and unharmed.”

  “And welcome to your colleagues as well. Especially to you, Guildmaster.”

  Hallic walked forward several paces. The silvery light reflected off of his face and Mel watched her father's slow smile.

  “It's good to see you again, Drendan,” he replied.

  The king looked over his shoulder at the rogue in surprise.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, obviously puzzled. “You know the Council?”

  “I do, yes,” Hallic told him. “You wondered earlier where the pit in our guild-house leads? One of the places it leads to is this chamber. By a different route, of course. I learned that after my predecessor was killed and I read his notes. Darlheim made it clear that I should visit the Council at my earliest opportunity and I did so.”

  Shandon looked at the three shrouded figures.

  “Why would you need to meet with the leader of the rogues guild?” he asked them.

  “Because whoever leads the guild wields significant power in the empire, my lord,” one of them replied. “In many ways, he or she is second only to the crown in the influence that they have over the populace. Our relationship with the guild goes back many generations.”

  “Does that make you rethink your opinion about rogues?” Pieter whispered to Jergen.

  “No, I've already done that,” the warrior replied softly. “I know their worth now.”

  “Good to hear.”

  The king motioned for Hallic to join him and then turned back to look at the Council.

  “You continue to surprise me, Drendan,” he told them. “But there are more urgent issues to discuss at the moment. Do you know what is happening up in the throne room right now?”

  “Yes, my lord. Some of it, at least. Your son and the witch, Cindra, are in there. They are surrounded by a group of goblin magic-users. There may be a wizard among them but we cannot be certain of that.”

  “And what are they doing?” Hallic asked.

  “They are performing a ritual, Guildmaster,” one of the trio replied.

  “A ritual? What kind of ritual?”

  The hooded figure turned his head to look at the king.

  “A summoning ritual, my lord,” came the reply.

  Shandon sighed in exasperation.

  “Your brevity can be annoying at times, do you know that, Drendan?”

  “So we have been told, my lord,” one of the Council replied. “But oracles must be asked questions. We do not volunteer information. It is not our way.”

  “Hmm, another time I might argue that point, but right now I need to know what is happening. So what exactly are they summoning up there?”

  “A god, my lord.”

  There were several gasps from the watching group and Strake looked at Mel in disbelief.

  “Did he just say that they were summoning a god?” he asked,
wide-eyed.

  “He did.”

  Josper slipped past the others and hurried forward to stand next to the king.

  “Forgive my interruption,” he exclaimed. “But what are you talking about? The gods, both Lawful and Chaotic, are still trapped out in the Void, are they not? How could Cindra and the goblins summon one of them? That is not possible.”

  The robed figures seemed to be weighing their answers as they stared at him silently.

  “Ask them a simple question,” Shandon told the mage tersely. “They may only answer one thing at a time.”

  Josper ran his fingers through his curly beard, tugging on it nervously.

  “Ah, of course. Sorry. Drendan, can they summon a god?”

  “No, sir mage. They cannot,” one of the Council replied.

  Josper's sigh of relief was cut off as the figure continued.

  “But they might be able to summon a representative of the dark gods. A messenger, if you will. That is certainly their intention. Some would call him a godling. Compared to his masters, he is weak and barely noticed by them. But to a mortal, he would be incredibly powerful. We are uncertain if such a creature could be stopped if he is allowed to enter this realm.”

  “And such a thing is possible?” Shandon asked the Council. “Would the lords of Light let this godling penetrate the barrier from the Void?”

  Drendan almost sounded amused.

  “They might not even notice him, my lord. As we said, this creature is weak as deities go. If the dark gods were to somehow distract their Lawful cousins, the godling might slip through unnoticed.”

  “Wonderful,” Hallic exclaimed sarcastically. “Our empire hangs by a thread and the gods are asleep at the gate. What in the Seven Hells are we supposed to do?”

  The Council remained silent and Shandon turned to look at him.

  “Stop them, of course,” he told the rogue simply. “What else? And we'd best do it before they finish their ritual. Drendan, I need you to open the passageway that leads up to the throne room.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” one of the figures replied. “Please understand though that once you pass through, we will have to seal off this chamber again. We cannot take the chance that the dark messenger will arrive and seek to reach this place. You will not be able to return to us from that direction once you leave.”

  “Would he want to do that?” Josper asked the Council.

  “We believe that he would, sir mage. We are the enemies of Chaos and those dark gods would greatly reward anyone who could destroy us.”

  “That's fine, Drendan,” Shandon assured the Council. “If we lose the fight ahead, I doubt that any of us will be left to return anyway. Stay safe here if you can. Now, open the way please.”

  “Yes, my lord. Follow me.”

  One of the trio stepped away from the others and walked around the left side of the sphere. The king looked back at the group waiting in the shadows and waved them forward.

  “Time to go, everyone,” he said loudly.

  “That didn't sound very encouraging, did it? Saying that if we lose we won't make it back here?” Khara said to Odella as they began to move toward Shandon.

  “It's true enough though, isn't it?” Odella replied. “We either stop Cindra now or we fail and she and the king's son take over the empire.”

  “Yes, I know, but saying it out loud is just so...”

  “Discouraging?”

  “Something like that.”

  Everyone followed the king as he walked around the glowing sphere. With the orb at their backs, the group could see an archway open in the far wall. Drendan walked toward it, turned and bowed to Shandon.

  “Follow this passageway to the throne room, my lord,” the robed figure said. “We wish you good fortune.”

  “Thank you for you aid, Drendan,” Shandon replied as he stopped in front of the opening. “Tell me, what will you do if I fail and my son takes the throne?”

  “Do, my lord? We will do nothing. But Corbin will never be allowed access to our wisdom. Usurpers are not welcome here and we will not recognize his claim to the crown.”

  The king nodded slowly.

  “I appreciate your loyalty to the empire. Goodbye.”

  “Farewell, your majesty.”

  Drendan bowed again and Shandon walked past him and through the archway. The rest of the group followed him silently.

  Hallic waited until the others had left the room and then took a last, long look at the sparking orb behind him.

  “What are our chances?” he asked Drendan quietly.

  “We cannot see the future, Guildmaster,” the Council member replied. “You know this.”

  “I do. But the Council is wise and sees more than anyone else in the empire. So, how about a guess?”

  A sound that might have been soft laughter came from the hooded figure.

  “If you use your skills and wits, then your chances of success are...fair.”

  Hallic grinned widely.

  “Good enough. I've taken greater risks with worse odds than that. See you, Drendan.”

  The narrow hallway leading upwards from the Council chamber snaked back and forth as it rose sharply. The floor was coated with dust and the walls were roughly cut and covered with deep cracks that had formed over thousands of years. The dwarves could feel the age of the passageway like a stifling weight pressing down on them.

  “Have you ever used this path?” Jergen asked the king as he followed closely behind him.

  “Never. The Council told me about it the first time I visited them, but they advised me to only use it in an emergency. I think that this situation qualifies.”

  “I'd say so.”

  The three wisps of light were floating again above the heads of the group as they walked up the sloping passageway, allowing everyone to see where they were going. By chance, the twelve dwarves had collected into three separate groups. The four warriors including the king were leading the way, while behind them were Odella and the other mages. At the back of the line, the four rogues walked lightly behind the others with Hallic bringing up the rear.

  “How are we going to play this?” Strake asked Hallic softly.

  “I can't say until we see what is happening in the throne room,” Hallic replied. “We all brought crossbows, so we can try to pick off some of the goblins. But if they are all magic-users, will that even be effective? I have no idea.”

  “So we just have to wing it?” Annia asked.

  “That's about it.”

  She smiled broadly.

  “Good. Adapting to fluid situations is what we rogues do best.”

  Mel looked back at her father and he gave her a surreptitious wink. She grinned in return.

  Everyone else may be worried about the upcoming battle, she thought. But Hallic Barston is in his element.

  At the top of the passage, the group reached a blank wall. There was no sign of a door, but the king stared at the wall for a moment before turning around to look at the others.

  “This must be the entrance to the throne room,” he told them, his face flickering in the ghostly light of the wisps floating over his head. “Once I open it, we will be exposed to whatever awaits us on the other side. I wish that we knew more about what we will face, but we don't. If anyone has any suggestions on how to proceed, given that we don't know what will happen, please speak now.”

  “We will follow your lead, my lord,” Brokk said with a quick glance at Jergen and Pieter, both of whom nodded in agreement.

  “Odella?” Shandon said as he looked at the mages.

  She smiled at him calmly.

  “We will shield you and the others as best we can, my lord,” Odella told him, speaking for the other mages. “We all have spells ready, but until we see the opposition, we cannot know what we will do.”

  “Understood. Hallic? Any thoughts?”

  Hallic unhooked a small crossbow from his belt and Mel and the other rogues did the same. He slipped a bolt into the weapon and the
n grinned at the king.

  “Let's go kill some goblins, shall we?” he said.

  Strake, Mel and Annia all looked as eager as Hallic did, and Shandon chuckled as he slipped his hammer off of his back and gripped it easily in one hand.

  “Yes, let's do that,” he replied. “And may the Lords of Light favor us this day. Now extinguish those magical lights, before they give us away to the enemy.”

  He turned and place his hand on the blank wall as the passageway was plunged into darkness. The wall shimmered and began to fade from view. An eerie red glow appeared on the other side of the vanishing portal.

  “For the empire!” Shandon exclaimed as he leaped through the opening.

  Chapter 36

  The secret door had opened in the wall behind the dais in the throne room. As the king's group hurried into the room, they stopped short in amazement at what they saw.

  The electric lights in the ceiling were not functioning. Instead, torches flared and smoked in crude brackets on the walls and atop metal rods stuck roughly here and there in the marble floor. Several of the torches smoked and spluttered on the dais, which was covered with filth and splatters of dried blood. The group could only see the rear of the throne from where they stood and they could not tell if it was occupied or not.

  The flickering red light from the torches made it difficult to make out details around the cavernous chamber, but the king could see groups of goblins capering and shouting like animals here and there across the room. He scowled at the sight and, standing next to him, Jergen muttered curses as he raised his weapon angrily.

  “What are we waiting for?” he asked Shandon. “Let's cleanse that filth from the throne room.”

  “Wait,” the king told him. “All I can see are warriors. Where are the mages? More importantly, where are Corbin and Cindra?”

  Their view of the center of the chamber was blocked by the dais and the smokey torches had filled the air with a thick haze, making it even harder to see across the length of the throne room.