“Miles!” Jonathan shouted. “It’s escaping!”
The butler’s eyes narrowed and his grip shifted on his war hammer. With a cry of exertion, he flung the weapon at the crab. It caught the crab squarely in the back of its shell, and the crustacean staggered. Jonathan rushed after it and caught it with an awkward blow across a pair of its legs. It shrieked, and then Miles was there. Another pair of blows slew the crab, and the two of them took a moment to get their breath back.
“Well done, sir. We were able to get all of them. However, the sounds of battle might have been noticed. We must move on.”
Jonathan gulped. The damage the war hammers had done to the crabs was horrific, and it occurred to him then that one of the chief problems the dwarves had faced was one of simple physics. War hammers did far more damage when they were being swung down on their targets. However, the short-statured dwarves would have found it much more awkward to attack the crabs with all of their weight behind each blow. “You’re right. And if these crabs were on patrol, they will be missed when they don’t return.”
Indeed. The Blood Emperor exuded caution. Swiftness is your ally here, not strength. Once you are noticed, the crabs will bring their full strength to bear. Remember your objective. Your goal is not to defeat the crabs but to retrieve the sword and escape. He frowned. I can sense the dead stirring as well, but I cannot tell if it is the work of necromancers or simply the ghosts that cling to this place.
Jonathan nodded. More than once, he could have sworn he’d seen a ghostly dwarf out of the corner of his eye. Yet each time he turned his head, there was nothing there. Had they been anywhere else, he might have dismissed it as nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him. Here, in a place where countless dwarves had died, where dark voices filled the water, he was not about to rule anything out. As they continued down the passageway, he felt a sharp, biting cold emanate from the spirit lantern. That feeling of anger – of rage long suppressed – only grew stronger. What on earth was inside it?
* * *
Blue Scales fought the urge to sigh. He had not met many dwarves – as a general rule, they disliked the ocean, perhaps because of what had happened to Mordrath – but it was obvious the ones who’d lived here had liked to build things as large as possible. The gate in front of them was a perfect example. It was thirty feet tall, which seemed utterly pointless when it was so far into the mines. Worse, the mechanisms that defended it were still active.
“We can’t break through this,” Eric growled. He tapped the door with his spear and recoiled as lightning crackled across the metal surface. “Even if we could get past its magical defences, the door has got to be at least two feet thick. We’d have a tough time breaking it with a battering ram and a full complement of siege engineers. The crabs must have found a way around it somehow, which means we’ll likely run into them.” He made a face. “I mean… we could ask Roger to try to blow it apart, but anything strong enough to destroy the door might bring this whole area down around us.”
Roger gesticulated animatedly.
“We’ve been through this. We can’t understand you.”
The raccoon’s response was to gesticulate even more wildly. It was, Blue Scales thought, adorable. If the situation had been less dire, he would have been sorely tempted to ruffle the raccoon’s fur.
“Fine.” Eric handed Blue Scales his spear. “This is stupid. Hold this.”
Blue Scales took the spear and shook his head in disbelief as Eric transformed. Moments later, a towering werewolf stood where his friend had been – taller, broader, and far more massive. Instead of looking down at his friend, Blue Scales now had to look up, which did not happen often on dry land. The lupine giant listened intently as Roger repeated himself. Ah. That was it. In his werewolf form, Eric must be able to understand the speech of even an unusual animal like a raccoon from the Raccoon Empire. Supposedly, older werewolves could understand any animal without transforming, but Eric was not old by werewolf standards. However, that still left them with a small – or not so small – problem.
Eric turned to Blue Scales and growled a long series of guttural sounds.
The merman sighed. “You do realise, my friend, that now I can’t understand you or Roger.”
Eric looked back at Blue Scales and then at Roger. Roger looked at Eric. Both of them looked at Blue Scales. All three of them covered their faces with their hands. Eric growled again and transformed back.
“This is so stupid,” Eric muttered. “Once we get out of here, I am either going to learn how to understand him without having to transform or get Jonathan to teach me raccoon sign language. Anyway, Roger says he thinks he can open the gate.” He pointed to several devices scattered around the chamber. “Those are control mechanisms. The crabs never worked out how to use them, and the dwarves may well have sabotaged them on their way out. However, Roger says they’re similar to the style used in some ancient Raccoon Empire designs he is familiar with. If he can get the door open, we should be able to use it as a shortcut to avoid fighting too many more crabs.”
“Excellent. We would be wise to avoid unnecessary battles here.”
“However, you and I will have to do most of the heavy lifting. There were other devices that went with these control mechanisms, but Roger says most of them are either missing or damaged. The crabs or dwarves could have done it. In my werewolf form, I should be strong enough to help. Between the two of us, I think we can do it. He can tell us what to do, and I can transform back and forth to relay his instructions.”
Blue Scales eyed the mangled machinery that littered the area. “This could take a while…”
It took a while – and a great deal of pushing, shoving, and throwing things around as well as several strategic applications of Roger’s magic – but they finally managed to activate the control mechanisms. The gate swung open with a ponderous groan, but their dreams of a trouble-free shortcut died a swift, swift death. On the other side of the gate, looking every bit as surprised as they were, was a large group of crabs.
“And of course there are crabs on the other side.” Eric tossed his spear to Blue Scales. “I might as well get some exercise.” He shifted back into his werewolf form as his last words lingered in the air. “Let’s see how I go in this form.”
“Indeed.” Blue Scales glanced back at Roger. The raccoon had already leapt up onto a fallen pillar to get a better view of the battlefield. “Stay behind us, Roger. Eric and I will hold them at bay as best we can. Focus on thinning their numbers.”
Roger made a sound of agreement. As the first of the crabs rushed forward, water surged into the room. Blue Scales snarled and unleashed a Word of his own. The water trembled and stopped before it could envelop them. His lips curled. The crabs had stopped. They were wary of advancing without water to aid them. Seeing their hesitation, Eric howled and threw himself into the front ranks of crabs with Blue Scales only half a step behind him.
The fighting was swift and brutal. Ever mindful of the horrific damage their crushing claws could inflict, Blue Scales wielded his trident with one hand and Eric’s spear with his other. He combined powerful bludgeoning blows with precise thrusts. It was a painstaking process, but it allowed him to deal with the crabs without putting himself within reach of their deadly claws.
Eric had a different approach. In his lupine form, he lacked the ability to attack from a safe distance. Instead, he had no choice but to hurl himself at the crabs. But his lack of range was not without compensation. In this form, he was stronger and faster than Blue Scales, and his regeneration was amplified to absurd levels. His teeth and claws skittered off the hard shells of the crabs, and he took a savage blow to the chest that crushed his ribs and tossed him back. A moment later, he was back on his feet, his wounds already gone. A howl tore itself from his throat.
[Rending Claws].
[Piercing Fangs].
[Hunter’s Guile].
[Blessings of the Moon].
Four Words. The first two would
enhance the damage dealt by his claws and fangs, the third would allow him to better read the flow of battle, and the fourth would massively increase his power, provided it was night time and the moon was relatively full. With another howl of fury, Eric waded back into the battle. This time, his claws and teeth struck to deadly effect. He ripped off limbs, cracked shells, and tossed his opponents aside. Blood and viscera dripped from his jaws, and his eyes gleamed with murderous delight. Blue Scales’s lips twitched. It wasn’t often his friend let himself go like this. It was a firm reminder that for all his easy-going nature, Eric was a predator of the highest order. Behind them, Roger’s magic built to a fever pitch.
[Ash Cloud].
A cloud of molten ash flowed around Eric and Blue Scales and enveloped the throng of crabs. Those amongst them who could wield magic worked frantically to fend off the attack using Words like [Control Water] and [Disperse]. However, Roger’s magic was too potent to be shrugged off so easily, and Blue Scales fired several bolts of lightning at the crustacean magic users as he and Eric retreated. Roger’s magic flared again, and a brilliant arc of lightning leapt from one crab to another. He grinned. [Chain Lightning] was a powerful Word, and Roger had cast it very quickly indeed.
Beside him, Eric greedily devoured a crab leg that he’d ripped off one of their opponents. His fur shimmered, and Blue Scales remembered the ability his friend’s clan was famous for. Eating their foes made them stronger and often allowed them to adopt useful characteristics from their enemies. Eric was more durable now, and he lunged back into the swirling cloud of molten ash. With his regeneration and increased toughness, he could weather the storm of Roger’s magic and press on against the crabs.
It was strange how seldom Blue Scales saw Eric fight in this form. Oh, he was happy to use it against other werewolves, especially in tavern brawls, but he seemed more reluctant to use it on missions. Part of it was practical. His weakness to silver was amplified in his lupine form, and knowing Eric, he also wanted a decent fight and a chance to improve his skills with a spear. Likewise, many of their missions involved fighting giant monsters, and there were some, like dragons, that not even a werewolf would survive facing in melee combat. Yet there must be something more to it because the sheer power the transformation offered was not something most people could have set aside as often as Eric did. Perhaps one day, Eric would share his reasons.
With inhuman speed, Eric tore through the shell of one crab and then turned to gut another, sliding beneath its outstretched claws to slice open its underbelly. With a heave of effort, he flipped the crab over and then swung it by its legs to knock over several more. The cloud of ash had begun to clear, but Roger hadn’t slowed down at all. Bolts of ash, fire, and lightning continued to rain down on the crabs as Blue Scales did his best to keep Eric from being surrounded. The werewolf was more reckless in this form, and he seemed determined to rip his way right through the mob of crabs. Unfortunately, more crabs were arriving, and even Eric’s enhanced regeneration was beginning to feel the strain as the crustaceans began to pile on the blows. The werewolf leapt back and snarled something at Roger, and the raccoon nodded sharply and raised his paws high above his head.
The power building around the raccoon was even more ominous than before, and Blue Scales didn’t need to understand werewolf or raccoon to know what the plan would be: hold the crabs off long enough for Roger to finish whatever he was doing.
“Stay close,” Blue Scales warned as Eric swiped at another crab. “We must watch each other’s backs or we’ll be overrun.”
The rest of the battle passed in a blur of crushing claws and stabbing legs. The end came when the ground beneath them began to glow, and the scent of smoke and sulphur filled the air. Roger gestured for them to get clear, and Blue Scales and Eric scrambled out of the way.
[Volcanic Burst].
This was not a Word Blue Scales had seen before, nor was it one he would soon forget. The ground erupted upward into what he could only describe as a miniature volcano. Lava spewed everywhere, and the crabs caught in the initial explosion died instantly. Some managed to get clear, but Eric gestured for Blue Scales to follow him. His plan was easy enough to see – they were going to push the surviving crabs into the pool of lava that was growing larger by the second. There was no need for precision. Simply herding their enemies into the glowing liquid would suffice. More lava shot upward as the pool continued to grow. Blue Scales winced at the heat. They’d have to be careful, lest they found themselves caught in the attack. The lava surged, and great waves of melting rock and stone rolled outward. The last of the crabs vanished into the fiery lake, and Roger gave a short, sharp gesture and snarled. The ground began to cool, and Blue Scales doused the area in water to speed the process along.
“That looks to be the last of them for now.” Blue Scales tested the surface of the cooled lava with the butt of his trident. It was still warm but firm. Roger hopped onto his shoulder and dragged in several deep, ragged breaths. Blue Scales patted his back. “Good work, Roger. We’re almost there.”
* * *
Susannah calmly used [Pierce] to send a piece of rock right through the hard shell of a crab and into its brain. Throwing rocks wasn’t her favourite way to fight, but she didn’t want to run out of arrows either. The giant crustacean toppled onto its side. Like most of its kin, though, it took a while to realise it was dead. Its limbs and claws flailed wildly before eventually falling still. Up ahead of her, Eileen was doing her best to draw as much attention as she could. With Words from Aria to enhance her durability, the shape-shifter was holding her own against the swell of crabs in the narrow passageway. Had they been on open ground, they’d have been in some trouble. There had been a necromancer crab amongst them, but Susannah had killed it at the start of the battle with one of her exploding arrows. Being at the back of the group of crabs hadn’t saved it – her arrows could pierce through multiple crabs with ease, and she’d gotten a good feel for how much power to put into [Pierce] to ensure her exploding arrows detonated inside her targets.
“I think we should be getting to the hall near the sword fairly soon,” Aria said as Susannah loosed another one of her exploding arrows. She didn’t have that many left, but they couldn’t afford to get bogged down here. The explosion ripped through the remaining crabs, and Eileen was able to make short work of them from there using the hook-like appendages she’d replaced her bear form’s claws with. If Susannah recalled correctly, those came from a species of giant insect that preyed on other giant insects, as well as any other large animals it could find. She and Roger had destroyed a nest of them a few months back.
I hope so. Eileen grumbled as some of her summons searched the area ahead of them for any further threats. Because I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I don’t tire easily, but…
“There have been a lot of them.” Aria frowned. “And magic can only do so much.”
“On the upside,” Susannah pointed out. “They’ve been attacking us piecemeal. We’ve also killed a few of their necromancers. It seems like the strongest crabs must either be further in or occupied with something else. If it’s just more of these guys, we should be able to manage.” She plucked one of her arrows out of the ground and sighed. Like most things she used her Words on, it was a mangled ruin. It was a shame they hadn’t stumbled across any working dwarf crossbows with spare bolts. If worse came to worst, she could use her fishing rod. It was made by elves out of a still-living branch of a special kind of tree. As long as she was careful, it could withstand her magic for a while and then gradually heal any damage it took, provided she gave it enough time to recover.
“Let’s hope so.” Aria used [Revitalise] on Eileen. It would restore the shape-shifter’s stamina and heal her injuries, but they needed to be careful. Used too often, its effects would get weaker and weaker.
It wasn’t long before they reached the hall they sought. It was, like every other hall in this place, enormous. Susannah couldn’t help but wonder if the dw
arves would have done better against the crabs if they hadn’t loved building everything so big. It couldn’t have been easy trying to defend a place this open against so many crabs. Still, she’d give them credit. Hulking statues of ancient dwarf kings lined the hall, and despite being used as a gathering place for miners and workmen, the quality of the carvings on the roof and upper parts of the hall was impressive. They seemed to tell the story of how the dwarves had first begun to delve into the earth to unlock the wealth of Mordrath. She shook her head. If only the dwarves had stopped digging a little sooner, Mordrath would never have fallen in the first place.
“Wait…” She held up one hand. “I hear voices.”
The tunnel on the left. Eileen tilted her head to one side. But they sound familiar. She relaxed slightly. Today is our lucky day.
A few moments later, a hulking werewolf strode into the hall. The beast had dark fur and stood around eight feel tall. Like most werewolves, it moved with lupine grace, its bulk and size no impediment to the predatory ease that filled every motion. However, it was the eyes that gave it away – as well as the scent. Susannah knew those eyes and that scent. Only a few steps behind the werewolf was Blue Scales with Roger perched on his shoulder.
Susannah almost sagged in relief. She’d been worried for her friend. Roger was powerful – there were few she’d favour over him in a contest of magical power – but he was also exceedingly squishy. If he ever got caught on his own, there was a good chance, he’d get overwhelmed, and the thought of what the crushing claws of the crabs would do to him… well, it was best not to think about it.
“Roger!” Susannah waved.
The raccoon leapt off Blue Scales and scurried toward her before leaping into her arms and nuzzling her.
Attempted Adventuring (The Attempted Vampirism Series Book 2) Page 22
