by RG Long
They entered what appeared to be an armory. Axes, hammers, and other weapons of warfare lay on racks that lined the walls.
“Quickly,” Thrank said, motioning them onward. They passed by several ornate looking maces, which caused Gorplin to pause.
“Are these...” he began.
“Rimstone studded maces?” interrupted Thrank. “They certainly are.”
Jurrin saw that every weapon inside the room had an edge or a spike that was the color of different Rimstones.
“I haven't seen any of the dwarves out there with these, sir,” Jurrin said.
“Of course you haven't,” Thrank said. “These are much too valuable to pass out to anybody. There's a hundred or so of these and there are thousands of dwarves inside this mountain. Tens of thousands if you count the nearby dwarven cities and mines. These are the rarest of weapons. We only make a few each year.”
Gorplin had stopped to admire a pair of axes with blue colored edges.
Thrank saw him and eyed him warily.
“I doubt you'd be fit to carry those into battle, young one,” he said.
Gorplin huffed.
“And I doubt you've ever seen a demon before, eh Master Miner?” Gorplin shot back. “I've seen one of them put down before. By a man wielding a spear with a shining tip. I never asked him, but I wouldn't doubt he carried a spear with Rimstone imbued into it.”
“Bah,” Thrank said, dismissing Gorplin with wave.
“Only one spear has ever been made here for the use of men and it was stolen thousands of years ago. So if you ever see it again, I'd think you'd best return it to its rightful owner. That spear is legend beyond your dreams, as will be those blades you're coveting now.”
He glared at Gorplin for a moment.
“Bah,” he said finally, throwing his hands up. “Take them. They're no good sitting on a shelf. King Thuda hasn't yet seen the value in them for use against goblins and the like. Maybe this demon is deserving of an axe's first kill.”
The young dwarf respectfully pulled each ax off of the rack in turn. He held them in his hands and tested their weight, swinging them several times and chuckling with each wave of the blade.
“Mister Thrank, sir,” Jurrin said after a few moments had passed. “These are wonderful weapons, but my friend...”
“I haven't forgotten, little one,” Thrank replied. “Though I think you'd do well with this at your side as well.”
He reached to a small wooden table and retrieved a dagger with one pearl white edge.
“I hope you don't have to use it, but just in case,” he said as he handed the blade to Jurrin.
“Thank you, sir,” Jurrin said, taking the knife and holding it uneasily in his hands.
Though Jurrin had never been in more fights in his life, the last few weeks hadn't seen him get accustomed to wielding a weapon.
But he had been challenged in more than one way since leaving. This was just going to be another thing he had to do.
For Jurgon.
“But I still don't understand why we are here and not out there, sir,” Jurrin said, turning to Thrank. The old dwarf was busying himself in the corner of the weapon room. His back was turned to them and he seemed to be struggling with something.
Gorplin approached him, both axes still in hand.
“Need a hand?” he asked, looking over Thrank's shoulder.
“Bah,” he replied. “Stand back or you'll get a face full of stone!”
With one final grunt, the sound of several gears turning and levers clicking could be heard in the room.
A small crack opened in what Jurrin had thought was a solid rock wall carved out of the mountain.
From it, the faint echoes of battle could be heard.
“This leads to a small opening in the side of the mountain,” Thrank explained. “If we ever lost the front door as an entrance or exit, similar doors to this one would let us in and out. Only myself and the King know of this door, however. Out you go.”
“Are you not coming with us, sir?” Jurrin asked, hesitating for the first time since he saw Jurgon dart out of the large doors and into danger. He thought for sure he would have two companions with him when he went outside.
“Bah,” Thrank said. “I'm an old dwarf. I've seen enough battles. Plus, I have troops to arm if things go poorly. Be on your errand and don't tell anyone how you got out there. If you come back, that is. Put those weapons to good use.”
And with that, Thrank left the armory and slammed the inner door shut behind him.
Gorplin gave one look out after him and then to Jurrin.
For the first time since King Thuda had told him to stay in the mountain, a familiar fire in his eyes blazed and a smile crossed his lips.
“I don't know about you, little Jurrin, but I'm dying to get out there and put these axes to the test!”
Without another word, Gorplin squeezed himself into the opening that Jurrin saw led to a very cramped path.
Jurrin was less excited than his dwarven companion, but certainly glad he wasn't going after Jurgon alone.
20: Gorplin's Fight
Gorplin hurried along the cramped stone corridor. He couldn't call it much of a hallway. The stones of the mountain squeezed him on either side as he walked forward.
The journey north had done little to reduce his frame, though he was fairly certain Jurgon's inclusion into their party had a great deal to do with that.
If it weren't for the halfling throwing himself into danger, he may would still be resenting the king's refusal to let him fight beside him.
Gorplin was of noble birth. His father, though not a Lord like Thuda, had been a great warrior and greater leader of his people. His son would not be cast aside like a child.
Today Gorplin, son of Thorplin, would prove himself to be a fine dwarf and stand with the finest warriors King Thuda had to offer.
And help Jurgon, too, Gorplin reminded himself.
Jurrin hurried behind him, breathing hard. It wasn't from physical exertion or because of the thrill of battle. Gorplin could tell only slightly what might be going through the halfling's mind.
"Don't fret, Jurrin," he said over his shoulder. He turned back and saw the opening of the corridor just ahead of them: a small fissure in the face of the great mountain. "I'll protect you."
The evening sky was darkening just beyond the opening. Evening light from the twin suns poured into their tight enclosure. Every now and then, a flash of light invaded further in.
"Stay close when we get outside," Gorplin said, coming close to the exit. "And don't be afraid of that dagger."
Jurrin had been holding the blade loosely in his hand. Gorplin turned and put a hand on his shoulder.
"Let's go get Jurgon, sir," the little halfling said, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to sound brave.
"Bah," Gorplin said proudly. "You'd make a fine soldier, little one."
He turned to the opening once more and steeled himself for what lay outside. Shouts of war, the roar of Nidashma, and unearthly howls that must be coming from the demon's mouth filled his ears.
It was time to prove himself a true dwarven warrior.
He stepped out from the protection of the stones and began to run in the direction of the sounds.
His legs didn't have to carry him far.
As soon as he came out from the mountain, Gorplin could see that the king was in terrible danger.
The demon was at least as large as the one they had faced in the south. It towered over Gorplin, matching the dragon in its size. It was as tall as four men and its massive body would easily be larger than a modest house of a man. Standing on a hill of rocks and stones, it sent burst after burst of magical energy towards its flying foe.
Still the king and his dragon were fighting it with great fervor. The dragon had a few marks on her that were scars from the demon's magic and Thuda's shield had a large portion of it broken off. The axe he wielded, however, was intact and swung fiercely above him. The dragon d
ived down from its height and let loose a breath of flames. Dragon crashed into demon with mighty force.
Nidashma was clawing and scratching at the demon with all of her might. Fiery breath was spewing from her mouth. The demon's magical shield held strong and true, causing the fire to wash over it like water on a rock.
Thuda swung his axe at the demon's head, but to no avail. He could not pierce the shield the demon still used to protect itself with his weapon. Beast struggled against demon, until the unholy creature succeeded in grabbing one of the great wings of Nidashma. It threw the dragon down to the side of the hill it stood on, amongst the rocks and dead bodies of the dwarves who had marched out alongside their king. Without releasing his grip, the demon let out a howl of laughter and rage. It was a terrible sound.
More bodies than Gorplin could count lay underneath the dragon and the lord.
He quickened his pace, forgetting the errand of finding Jurgon for a moment and running to the defense of Thuda and the dragon.
"Hey, you spawn of fire and malice!" Gorplin shouted as he jumped over rock and lifeless warrior. "Over here!"
The demon had begun to raise a great orb of magic over its head, but now turned its attention to the small dwarf challenging it from a few paces away. Gorplin swung his axes wildly in the air. From the Rimstone in their blades, a light began to grow.
Whether from the proximity to the demon or the power Gorplin felt coursing through his own veins, he didn't know. But he could tell he was holding no ordinary weapons that would bounce off a shield of magic.
Gorplin felt empowered by their light and ran closer to the demon than he knew was wise.
Instead of releasing his grip on the dragon, the mighty demon began to stomp down on Gorplin with its foot. The cloven foot was nearly as large as Gorplin himself. He dove out of the way just as the beast's foot landed and sent stone and dirt flying.
Regaining his footing amongst the rocky cliff, Gorplin looked up at the demon and gripped his two axes tightly.
"You'll find me a foe worth your full attention demon spawn!" he shouted as he charged up the hill, slashing with his weapons as their glowing increased.
Gorplin found, to his surprise, that the magic shield that surrounded the demon broke like glass when he chopped away at it. Purple sparks rained down on him as he ran inside the hole he had just created. With all his might he swung both axes upward, into the demon's belly. The beast let out a howl of pain and kicked out hard with its legs.
He dove back, out of the way of the stampeding beast.
The hole he had made in the shield had repaired itself, so he made another to allow him to retreat a safe distance before striking again. His attack had distracted the demon enough that he had relinquished his hold on Nidashma and the dragon clawed away before taking flight again.
"My thanks, Gorplin!" the king shouted over the roar of his mount.
There was no time to celebrate Thuda's words of regard; the demon was creating another orb of energy. This time its terrible face held Gorplin in its gaze. The dwarf stood resolute, ready to dodge and attack again.
But then another magical orb flew past him and at the demon, disrupting its concentration. The purple magic it held in its hand dissipated into the air as it took a step backward. The demon had been surprised by the attack and now, with Gorplin, looked for its source.
At the base of the rocky hill, standing just above the bodies of the fallen warriors, were two halflings. They stood as soldiers making a last stand. Jurrin held his knife in both hands, for it was like a small sword to him. Just behind him and to his left was Jurgon, the new wand King Thuda had given him in his hand. Its glow encompassed both of them, so that they shined with a red light.
Again, Jurgon motioned with his wand and another bolt of energy came streaming out of the device and at the demon.
This time the beast blocked the attack. His own magical shield appeared to gather into a more concentrated force to defend against the energy bolts.
"Give him another!" Gorplin shouted, seeing his opportunity. "King Thuda! Nidashma! As one!"
Jurgon unleashed two more magical shots, though Gorplin knew they taxed him heavily. This would be their chance.
While the demon was deflecting the orbs with his shield, Gorplin used his axes to smash into the weaker part of it, towards the side of the beast. Purple sparks fell again as the shield collapsed all around him. Every blow from Gorplin sent another portion of the shield flying into pieces and passing into the air.
Nidashma did not miss her chance. The dragon breathed fire into the open hole, sending flame into the demon's protective shield. The fire filled what was left of the orb, burning the demon inside his own magical creation. More howls from the demon shook the ground and the shield exploded, sending dwarves, dragon, and halflings flying.
Gorplin landed hard a few paces from the beast. It strained to regain its footing. Smoke rose from its body and burns could be plainly seen all over it.
Aiming as best he could, and hoping against hope, Gorplin threw one axe at the head of the demon.
It found its target.
The weapon glowed as the beast clawed at it with giant hands, trying to remove the blade. As it struggled, another blast of energy hit it in the chest. With a cry, the demon fell limp onto the rocky hill and lay still.
Gorplin paused, breathing hard, and looking at the thing in wonder.
"That's not what happened the last time..."
And then, interrupting his thoughts, cracks of purple energy appeared all over the demon's skin. The glow that came from them was so fierce that he had to shield his eyes from it. Energy like lightning escaped from the cracks and crawled over the demon's body. Then, as if it were the last embers from a great fire, the demon's body broke apart into glowing pieces and then into dust.
All lay still in awe as a gentle wind blew across the battlefield, taking with it the last of the demon that had attacked the mountain. Gorplin looked to see that the axe he had thrown at the demon had also turned to dust. He grasped the other with a renewed appreciation.
Nidashma landed next to Gorplin and King Thuda dismounted. The two halflings walked up as well. Jurgon had his arm around his friend and walked with great difficulty.
Thuda looked at each of them in awe.
He then bowed his head low.
"Forgive me, Masters Jurrin and Jurgon, and Gorplin, son of Thorplin," he said as he stood again. "I did not know how skilled you were in battle when I first rode out. Had I known the experience and skill you posses, I would have had you ride beside me to face this threat!"
Gorplin smiled, and saluted with his remaining axe.
"No harm done, sir," Jurrin replied with a strain at the weight of his friend.
"Nope," said Jurgon through rattled breath.
Jurrin let out a little chuckle.
"It's only the second beast of that nature we've killed anyhow."
21: The Savior of Men
The army of the Southern Republic was marching to war.
Tens of thousands of men marched out ahead in blocks of hundreds. Rays of sunlight, like the spears they carried to war, thrust down through the heavy fog. Shields and armor reflected the same rays of the twin suns. Drums and horns heralded their arrival.
Androlion rode with his cavalry out ahead of the men. On either side of his mount, his trusted generals carried both his banner and that of the Southern Republic. Cavalry by the scores followed him in a perfect line. Then the footmen, who were in turn followed by the siege weapons that had been assembled and readied for a long and drawn out battle.
Catapults, towers, ladders, and other means of bringing down the great city clamored behind them. To the west, his battleships sailed up the river to the city of Beaton carrying more instruments of destruction.
If Beaton wouldn't surrender, then they would surely fall.
Androlion knew it to be true. Another one of his visions had told him so, only recently granted.
Lately, the vis
ions of the end of the world and the need for his quest had been coming more frequently and with more intensity. He knew the hour of the end was close at hand. The Dark Comet was growing brighter in the sky. There was much that needed to be done.
There were many who needed to die in order for man to survive.
Some might call it barbaric. Androlion knew that some, like the little girl Speaker, hated him for his part.
They failed to see what only he could.
How would he allow the entire continent of Ruyn to fall to ember and flame? If he could only save one race, a part of that race at least, it would be worth the lives of those who must die. Thousands might be saved. Tens of thousands.
Was it not worth the high cost to save so many?
Androlion was convinced of it. Though he had come to hate those of other races, he knew it was a righteous hatred. It had been their tinkering with the elements of nature and the dark magic that had drawn the ire of the comet. He was sure of it.
Without them, this war needn't have happened.
But the cleansing was necessary.
And he, Androlion Fellgate, would be the savior of men.
Today, he looked the part as well.
Clad from toe to neck, he had personally overseen the polishing and cleaning of the newly made suit of armor. His breastplate was stained green with the image of a white griffon intricately inlaid in it. A bright red stone was its eye. The Rimstone he had coveted for his own uses had been set to his armor. Though others might twist the stone to incur wrath, he had used it to purify the land.
This stone, next to his heart, reminded him to keep himself pure.
At his side was the new blade, only recently forged by the master smith, he had paid so dearly for. The sheath was white leather,
Behind him his cape, green on the back and white inside, floated in the wind that had picked up with the morning. A gust brought the cloth up high, above his horse. It revealed a small box placed behind him, attached with several straps to the rear of his saddle.
None would have given the box a second glance, and that was as Androlion would have it. Inside, there was something he treasured beyond even his great army and the cause he championed.
