“Our scholars were called in, and they examined what they could see, and proclaimed that we had uncovered the Deep. The city that dwarves once called great, but were driven from by forces unknown.
“We sent in Militia forces, of course. To the same result as the workers. They were lost, or returned to us mad. We put up the gates, expanded Underworld in other directions, and have tried to forget that it is here. Until Brindar chased one of the pipers into there, several days ago now. He hasn’t been seen or heard from since, and we fear that he is dead.
“So, Mr. Grandfather,” he concluded, turning back to me. “Hearing all of that, do you still wish to enter the Deep?”
I looked again at the dark, abandoned city beyond those huge gates and swallowed hard. Really, what choice did I have?
“Unlock them,” I said, hoping that my voice sounded more sure to Grundir than it did to me. “I’ll find him.”
As soon as the gates clanged shut behind me, I could feel the oppressiveness of the place bearing down. Unlike Underworld, the Deep had a dark, forbidding feel to it, like I wasn’t welcome and the stones themselves were watching me. It was a horrible feeling.
I had to give it to the piper. He entranced the guards to unlock the gate, and then fled down here on his own. That showed either a great deal of fortitude on his part, or it showed how fearsome Brindar could be. Either way, I was amazed that he didn’t turn around, flee back to the gates and throw himself on the dwarves’ mercy.
The air was thick and heavy, the way it would be in a house that was closed up for years on end, only worse. The ventilation that was in place for Underworld obviously didn’t spread this far, and my footsteps sounded dull as I walked along, gun in hand.
I had nothing to set the gun to, of course, since I had no idea what I was walking into. But it could still do a lot of damage to most things. My sword was loose in its scabbard as well, as a backup measure in case I needed it.
The buildings down here were old, older than anything I ever saw before. They stretched out before me, looming suddenly out of the darkness into the light from my lantern. Grundir had shown me how to light the thing, and it was more than it appeared. The black stone glowed softly, but could be made to shine more brightly simply by blowing on it. Once it was blazing, it would continue to for hours, fading slowly until you blew on it again. Each time, it consumed a small piece of itself as it lit the way, but Grundir assured me that I had hours before it would be completely gone. Still, he advised me to keep it as dim as I could, since the brighter it glowed, the faster it used itself up.
Behind me, the light from Underworld, and that massive chandelier hung under the Guild Hall disappeared, and I was alone in the dark. I blew on the rock in the lantern, enough to get a little more light and see the entire road from side to side. Then I stopped, to fight off a sense of despair and uselessness.
The Deep was a massive place, with buildings piled on top of each other, lanes running between them, and roads that suddenly opened into large empty areas. It led from cavern to cavern, some with wide passages leading from one to the other, and others with narrow, constricting ways, obviously meant to bottle up an attacker and provide the place with a defense.
Brindar could be anywhere in here. My only thought was that the piper would have been feeling the same sense of bewilderment as I was, and therefore, he may have stayed on the main road, to try to avoid becoming lost in the dark warren. Hopefully, Brindar would have thought the same, and followed the road himself.
I was walking for a good hour or more, time was hard to keep track of here, when I heard the whispers. On the edge of my hearing, like children trying to win at a game of hide and seek, only these voices sounded sinister.
I laughed, my voice ringing out into the gloom of the Deep, and I wondered how long it was since that particular noise was heard here. But I couldn’t help myself. Grundir told me that dwarves who came here and returned spoke of these whispers, and were driven mad by them. That very well may have been true; they were unnerving. But those dwarves never heard and survived the cry of a banshee. In comparison to that, they were simply annoying.
My laughter cut them off, and they died off without another sound.
“If that’s the worst you’ve got,” I said aloud, “then you may as well call it quits.”
There was no answer, so, with my spirits suddenly buoyed, I continued on.
I passed another large, ancient building on my right. Not nearly the size of the Guild Hall, it looked as if it could have been someone’s palatial estate when the Deep was a city of renown. Now, it stood empty, its dark windows opening onto only blackness. Or at least that’s what it looked like at first glance. But as I walked along, I saw what looked like a darker shadow move in one of the ground floor windows.
I raised the lantern and walked over, but whatever it was, if anything, it was no longer there. There was nothing inside, showing in the pool of light, but blank walls and an empty stone floor. Stepping back, I looked up, and sure enough, now there was a figure in one of the upper floor windows, barely visible against the darkness within. It appeared to be watching me, even as I looked at it.
After standing there for a moment, the figure showed no sign of moving. I stepped back, keeping my eye on it the whole time. It still didn’t move and I began to doubt that I was truly seeing what I thought I was. Since it appeared to be no immediate threat, if it was there, I turned and continued on my way. If whatever haunted the Deep used ghostly whispers and dark apparitions as its weapons, then I would have no problem other than finding Brindar in this maze. I had seen worse.
Which is always the type of thought that leads to the greater threat arriving, just so that the universe can laugh in your face and show you how little you really know.
Behind me came the sound of a door creaking open. The doors in all the buildings were carved from stone, the medium of choice for the dwarves. As such, it didn’t creak as a long neglected wooden door might. Instead, it made a grinding noise, sounding like bones being crushed beneath a wheel.
I turned, and that black shape from the window, or one like it, was coming out. Now I could see it more clearly, and while I wasn’t comforted, I also wasn’t overly worried. It looked like a dwarf. He was short, only coming up to about four feet, and stocky, with thick, powerful arms and legs. Other than that, I couldn’t tell much else, as he was still in silhouette, except for the war hammer that he carried. The head of it gleamed from the light of my lantern, large, heavy looking, with a flat crushing surface on one side, and a wicked looking spike on the other.
I pulled out my gun and said, “dwarf”, brought it up to aim, and fired. The report was loud in the cavern that we were in, but the little, metal ball flew straight and true, and took him squarely in the chest. There was a puff of dust, the dwarf staggered back a step or two, and then continued to come at me, showing no ill effects from the shot.
“What the…” I began, then raised the gun and shot him again. To the same effect. And again. And once more. Each time, the same small puff of dust telling me that I hit him, the same step back, and the same relentless approach.
Now it was within range of my lantern, which I still held in my left hand, and I could see that what I thought was a silhouette was actually how it looked. It was shaped like a dwarf, and carried a dwarven weapon, but it was utterly, completely black. Dark eyes glinted in the light of my lantern and it chuckled evilly as it came near.
I stuck my gun back into my belt and pulled my sword. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t a dwarf, and since the little, metal balls didn’t do it much harm, it was time to see what sharp edged steel could do.
It came close, hefted the hammer and swung, but I was already moving. I dodged the swing and moved in myself, sword flashing out and caught the thing on the right shoulder. My blade bit deep with a sound like an axe hitting wood. But it did damage. The thing hissed, black crooked teeth showing when its lips pulled back, and a black liquid oozed from the cut.
It pulled back, reset itself and tried another swing with the hammer, this time aiming the spike at my foot, trying to pin me to ground. I jumped back, let the blow fall, then lunged in again, chopping down on the hands holding the hammers shaft. It hissed again, dropping the hammer and backing away, cradling its damaged hands to its chest.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t much in the fighting department. That one may not have given me much trouble, although the viciousness of its swings did speak of a horrible strength. But now, I could hear others, all around me. The soft whispers as they spoke to one another in a language I didn’t understand and suspected was long dead. The grinding of stone doors opening and the rasp of weapons being dragged along the streets.
A good fighter knows his limitations. Without my gun doing much good, I was severely outnumbered, no matter how good a swordsman I thought myself to be. It was time to do the only thing that made sense, and run.
It’s not easy to run through a dark, underground city at the best of times. The lantern swayed as I ran and caused the shadows to lengthen and shorten crazily around me. It was very hard to try to stay oriented, but I thought I was mostly staying on the main road. It did cross my mind that maybe I should take a side street, or duck into one of the buildings, but I didn’t want to get lost, or hemmed in, so I stuck with what I was doing.
Then I tripped over the foot. When I say a foot, I mean exactly that. It wasn’t a foot attached to a leg that was stuck out to trip me up and cause me to lose my balance. No. This was a foot, clad in a bright, green boot, that ended in a ragged stump shortly above the ankle. It was laying there, right in the middle of the road, and in my haste, I never saw it. Not until I went sprawling, barely holding on to my lantern, but losing my sword, and turned to look.
I’ve seen a lot of horrible things in my life, including body parts that were no longer attached to their rightful owners. But there was something about that foot, laying there, in its bright colors, down here in the Deep that got to me. Cold shivers ran down my spine, and I bent down and groped blindly for my sword, my eyes glued to that foot like I was afraid it was suddenly going to come to life and start hopping toward me.
And then something grabbed my hand, and the lantern went out. I made a noise, I’m not afraid to admit it…well, actually I screamed. A high pitched, warbling scream like a little girl whose doll came to life and asked her to play in a scratchy old ladies voice. It rang out, echoing off the buildings and definitely giving my position away.
“Damn it, Grandfather, shut up!” a hoarse voice whispered, and a thick hand clamped down over my mouth, silencing me.
I got control of myself and stopped the racket I was making.
“Bbbuunnnrrr?” I said.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Brindar whispered. “Now keep quiet and follow me.”
“I can’t” I whispered back. “I can’t see a thing!”
He sighed. “I forgot. Humans and their eyesight. Never mind. Here, put your hand on my shoulder.”
He took my hand and placed it on his broad shoulder, and we started away. I couldn’t see a single thing down there. Not a building, the street beneath my feet, Brindar’s back, or even my own hand. I’m not sure how long we walked, moving slowly to try to keep the noise to a minimum, but it felt like it was hours. The blackness, for that’s what it was, pure blackness, pressed in on me, and I flinched and hesitated with every step, sure that I would walk smack into a barrier, or tumble down a pit into the abyss.
Finally, I heard a door being opened, Brindar helped me step over a threshold, the door closed, and a light appeared. I gasped with relief, my eyes drawn to the softly glowing stone of my lantern.
Brindar stood in front of me, solid and dependable as ever, except for the dirty bandage wrapped around his head. I was glad to see him, but I have to say, I was even more glad that my mission was accomplished and now we could get out of here.
“What are you doing here, Grandfather?” he asked me.
“Looking for you! I came to find out if you had seen any other odd events occurring in the city, hoping that it might help lead to whoever’s been attacking us. But then I was told you chased one of those pipers down here and that was it. No one had heard from you since.”
“Yeah, well, you saw what happened to the piper,” he said. “So, no worries about him. Why you though? Why did you come?”
I shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “You know, you’re a Nuisance Man, we have to stick together, and friends and stuff…”
“Hmmph, well, yeah. Thanks then. For coming, I mean…”
If it was possible for a situation as dire as ours to become more awkward, it had.
“Anyway,” I said, forcing more levity into my voice, “I found you, so we can go. Let’s get out of here.”
“That’s not going to be that easy. There’s a lot of them out there, and they’re smart. They know our only way out is back to the gate to Underworld and they’ve got us cut off.”
“Great. Well, there are two of us. I hurt one with my sword, so I’m thinking that big axe of yours can hack right through them.”
“It can. But the one you hurt? Did it make a hissing noise?”
“Yeah, and it dropped the hammer it was holding. Why?”
“It wasn’t hissing in pain. It was laughing. They’re tough. And yeah, Biter can take pieces off of them, but they can take a lot of damage before they’re down for good. There’s too many of them for me to get them all before they swarm me.”
“That’s not good,” I said, pausing to think it over. “What are those things anyway?”
Brindar moved away and sat with his back against the wall. I suddenly felt how tired I was, and copied him, sinking down against the opposite wall.
“They’re called Dokkalfar, and they’re as much of a legend as this place is. Some say they’re related to us, but I’d hate to think that was true. Regardless, they live down here, deep in the earth, deeper than we go even, and they never go up into the sunlight. I don’t know if that would kill them or if they just hate it, but they’re made for the darkness and the deep places.”
“But what are they doing here? Did the pipers call them up too?”
“I doubt it. I think they were what happened to the Deep all those centuries ago. They attacked and drove the dwarves out. Over time, the memory of this place, and the Dokkalfar kind of faded. Who would want to remember them?”
“Until you guys accidently uncovered them.”
“Looks that way. Now what?”
“Now I still think we need to get out of here. Any chance of sneaking past them?”
He shrugged. “Doubt it. From what I can tell, they can see in the dark like it’s bright daylight. And they have excellent hearing too. We can try, but neither one of us are exactly built for stealth.”
I resented that! I was pretty lithe and agile, if I do say so myself. As long as I didn’t trip over something in the dark, like an errant appendage for instance.
“Alright,” I conceded. “Sneaking isn’t going to work. Still, we can’t stay down here until they find us, or we starve.”
The squealing noise of a sharp blade being dragged along stone silenced us. It sounded like it was still down the street, but it was moving this way. Brindar reached out and cupped his hand around the stone in the lantern, extinguishing it. Neat trick, that.
We sat silent and stiff as the noise came closer, growing in volume as it did. It paused for a moment, outside the door to the room we were in, and I slowly eased myself up the wall, my sword in my hand. The door latch rattled briefly, and then stilled, and the noise started up again, moving away.
I breathed out a sigh of relief and sank back down. Brindar blew the stone back to life again, and gently set Biter back down beside him.
“Those things are seriously creepy,” I said.
He nodded, his gaze cast down on the floor in front of him.
“What happened?” I asked, indicating the banda
ge wrapped around his head.
“A couple got too close. I took them, but one got through with his own axe. Nothing serious, a scalp wound, but you know how they are. I was half blinded by the blood before I could get away.”
We sat in silence, gathering our thoughts, before Brindar spoke up again.
“What about your gun? That should do some damage to them.”
“Maybe, now that I know what they are. But I can’t re-set it until tomorrow.”
He looked quizzical at this, and I realized that he didn’t know how my gun worked, or the limitations of the thing. I filled him in, on how it would do the maximum amount of damage to whatever I set it to, but that I could only do it once a day.
“What’s it set on now?” he asked.
“Dwarf,” I replied. “Because that’s what I thought was coming at me. If I knew it wasn’t, I would have left it unset.”
“It needs to be a full day after you set it?”
“No, right after midnight. Theoretically, I could set it to bugbear say at a couple of minutes before, shoot one, and then reset it to goblin a few minutes later. But then I’m stuck on goblin for that whole next day.”
“So after midnight, you reset it to Dokkalfar and we start hacking and shooting our way out of here. You take out as many as you can from a distance, I handle them when they get close.”
“Sounds great,” I said. “The only problem is that I don’t know when midnight is. I can try, but I have no way of knowing if it worked until I shoot one. The gun doesn’t give me any sign.”
“You forget,” and here he smiled, “you’re with a dwarf. We might not be quite as comfortable underground as these bastards, but we’re still pretty good. Midnight isn’t far away. A couple of hours. Let’s wait a few to be safe, and then we’ll come out blazing.”
Duke Grandfather- The Whole Story Page 38
