The Halls of the Fallen King

by Tiger Hebert

  Kiriana made a disagreeable look, but she didn’t protest. He was right. If they were in for any significant delays, they would run the risk of going hungry. She would eat the tough and stringy nastris meat before that would happen. She smothered her portion with extra peppercorn sauce and forced down another bite.

  Dom looked over to his friend and asked, “Theros, where’d you find that axe anyways?”

  “I took it from the goblins we met earlier. They didn’t need it anymore,” he noted.

  “I just hope a new band of adventurers doesn’t say the same thing about us in two weeks,” said Nal’drin.

  “No way that’ll happen. We’ve got enough food to last for at least another three weeks,” quipped Dominar.

  Theros looked around at their make-shift camp. It wasn’t much. They only unpacked enough stuff to make the meal. “You guys made a good point earlier. We were fortunate to find fresh water, but no one has bathed in days. I’m sure we would all like a chance to wash up. Dom, did any of the maps mention a wash house?”

  “I don’t recall seeing anything. Might be tricky to find them outside the palace and the homes of the royal families. That’s still probably, I dunno, a day away at the rate we are going. You know it’s really not a long distance, if we could just stop killing things along the way. It would make the journey go faster,” said Dominar as he went off on a tangent.

  “Dom,” said Theros as he attempted to restore his friend’s focus, “Where do the commoners bathe then?”

  “Well, based on how much this city hearkens back to the old cities, I’d say that there are some communal bathing places. It wasn’t marked on any of the maps though, so we could either look for it or just head straight for the royal quarter in the inner city,” suggested Dom.

  “What about the water we found earlier?” asked Sharka.

  “We are not back-tracking for a bath,” said Theros.

  Sharka ignored his remark and said, “That water was flowing somewhere. There has got to be some sort of lake or river down here.”

  “She’s right, there’s got to be something down here, but where?” said Dominar.

  “I guess it’s time to find out. Let’s move,” said Theros with his naturally confident tone.

  The group worked to pack up the small campsite, and then with re-lit torches, they were off once more.

  “It’s quite pretty...” said Sharka. “The way that the torchlight mixes with the light from the crystals. Maybe it’s just my eyes, but it’s like there are shades of reds and blues and the purples in between, and they are all dancing about.”

  “Yeah, I see what you mean,” replied Kiriana.

  As they made their way through the rest of the merchant quarter, they quietly observed their surroundings, paying close attention to landmarks at every major intersection. The last thing they could afford to do was find themselves in a predicament where they might need to flee, and not know their way out. Fortunately the dwarves hadn’t exactly been as subtle in their design as they had thought.

  Dom moved gingerly, but his mind was sharp. “I think I’ve finally figured out Duroc’s design here.”

  Theros raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah, it was throwing me off at first. His design philosophies echoed a bit of the old ways, but these ruins are still unlike anything else created by dwarven hands. Dwarven cities never casually sprawl like out like this. They are usually more compact, and seemingly more heavily fortified. The whole design of this subterranean city being spread out over varying degrees of depth is quite the antithesis to that, and it serves a single purpose; to make invasion impossible.”

  “Wait, I don’t get it. You are saying this city is less fortified, but that makes it more impervious?” asked Sharka.

  Dominar replied, “Yes. The premise is simple. In the event that an invading force were to come, everyone would retreat to the inner city, which we’ve yet to reach. When the invading forces came, they would first have to find their way through the underground city. This would give the dwarves time to retreat. Even if the enemy force found their way to the inner city, it would have bought the dwarves the added time to man their defenses.”

  “So the plan is not to stop the invaders, but just to slow them down, and then funnel them in?” asked Kiriana.

  Dom smiled. “I believe so, my dear. It’s hard to tell because we’ve yet to see it all, but that’s my wager.”

  Theros listened to Dom’s explanation, but said nothing. He knew it was all great in theory, but two of the dwarves’ many vices, pride and greed, allowed the perceptive person to see a bit beyond that. There is no debate that when it comes to architecture. Dwarven craftsmanship is the greatest in the known world. Even the smallest, most insignificant parts of their artistry were rich with details, like the way that even simple cobble stones and tunnel walls were etched with glyphs and gemmed runestones. It offered a lovely elegance to the hard and angular design that they were known for. They proudly showed it off every chance they got surmised the orc. Even going so far as to parade an invading force through their beautiful domain, prior to battling them. Theros shook his head.

  Nal’drin had moved to the head of the party and had been leading them onward for sometime. He asked nothing of directions, nor did he ask for a map, he simply turned right when he needed to turn right, and left when he needed to turn left. Dom had tried to offer direction at each juncture, but before he’d get the words out of his mouth, Nal’drin had already made a decision. Dom was stupefied.

  Kiriana asked what everyone else was thinking, “Uh, Nal’drin, have you been here before?”

  “No, why?” he answered as if her question surprised him.

  “Well, how do you know where you’re going, then?” she asked.

  “I am just following the pattern,” he answered with a look of confusion.

  “Uh, what pattern?” she asked.

  “Seriously? You guys didn’t notice it?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Notice what?” Dom asked, still unclear about what Nal’drin was referring to.

  “Oh, I assumed you guys noticed it too. Look at this over here,” he said as he pointed to a spot on the ground where a runestone that held a gem was embedded in the street tile.

  “Okay? Runestones are embedded in all the streets and walls,” said Dom with a shrug.

  “Yes, but do you see the gemstone?” asked the young king.

  “It’s not uncommon for my people to set jewels in their runestones. I even have ‘em over my hearth back home. Or at least I used to,” said Dom, his voice trailing off.

  “Yes, but what type of jewels, what colors?” Nal’drin asked.

  “I guess that’s a matter of preference my boy,” replied Dominar.

  “Yes, but this isn’t,” he said as he pointed down the street. The faint flickering of his torchlight sparkled upon the surface of the sapphires that were periodically embedded in the street.

  “They all look blue to me, son,” said Dom.

  “Right, and what color were the gems prior to the last turn?” asked Nal’drin.

  “Um, blue?” guessed Kiriana as Dominar stood there silently.

  “Green,” answered Nal’drin with a slight grin. “And what about before that turn?”

  Kiriana mumbled under her breath for a moment as she went through the color spectrum, then answered, “Yellow?”

  “Yes!” said Nal’drin, his grin widening. “It’s not just a pattern, it’s a map.”

  “Nal’drin, that is brilliant! When did you figure it out?” asked Kiriana.

  Dominar didn’t wait for his response, “Brilliant indeed. It’s so simple that we couldn’t see it while it’s right under our noses!”

  Nal’drin shrugged at the compliments and said, “I think at the third turn, after entering the merchant district.”

  His companions’ eyes widened as they regarded him. It was as if they had a newfound appreciation for the flippant youth, perhaps even maybe a little respect
.

  So Dom, what is the point of the way-stones again?” asked Nal’drin with a hint of sarcasm.

  “And I was just starting to like you,” Dom grumbled, before cracking a smile.

  “No, wait, that’s a good question,” said Theros. “If these stones provide a map of sorts, what is the way-stone really for?”

  Dominar’s stubby fingers dove into his beard as he scratched his chin. “You know, that really is a good question. I mean, I’d understand if the way-stone were marked with a bogus map, but so far they have proved to be accurate. What’s the point?”

  “Perhaps it’s to give attackers a false sense of security,” said Kiriana.

  Nal’drin said, “Or perhaps Duroc was just an arrogant ass.”

  Theros turned and looked at Nal’drin.

  “What?” asked Nal’drin.

  “I think you’re onto something,” said Theros with a grunt.

  “Really?” said Nal’drin, his surprise showing.

  “Yes,” said Theros with a nod. “We don’t necessarily know what Duroc’s intentions were, but he had to have known that eventually his sorcery would attract—others.”

  “Isn’t that a really good reason to not leave a perfect map for your enemies?” asked Kiriana, as she pulled her hair back into a tail.

  “Yes, but what if they are not your enemies?” asked Theros.

  “Who do you think he was expecting?” asked Dominar.

  “I have no idea, and none of us really know the first thing about the magics, but one thing that we have learned is that when the magics are used, it releases energy, almost leaving a signature and a breadcrumb trail, if you will,” explained Theros. “We also know that there are those who can detect that energy, like my friend Talus. If Duroc had intended to signal others, his magic signature would serve as that beacon.”

  “I don’t know,” said Kiriana with a dismissive tone. “You never want to play your hand first. Armies keep secrets, kings keep secrets for a reason. If Duroc had attained this great power, I can’t imagine that he would want to bring attention to himself.”

  “What if he was searching for allies?” asked Nal’drin.

  “It’s a good theory, but I don’t think Duroc had a need for an any allies at that time. We need to understand that he built this empire from the ground up, or ground down rather, and it was thriving. They had no known enemies, and their wealth was unsurpassed in this half of the world. He had no need,” replied Dominar.

  “Maybe he wasn’t trying to attract attention, it’s just that he really didn’t give a damn,” suggested Nal’drin.

  Theros regarded him with a smile and then he turned to Dom and said, “I think I’m starting to like him too. Kid’s smarter than he looks.”

  Theros turned back to Nal’drin with a smile and said, “I think you’re half right. I agree. This was an arrogant man, he didn’t care that he was a beacon to the rest of the world. He feared no man. However, I am not so sure that he wasn’t trying to attract someone, or something.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” said Kiriana with a puzzled expression. “How could he want to attract someone, but at the same time not care that he was a beacon for the whole world to see?”

  Theros’s face grew hard as he answered, “Either he had wicked intentions or that which he sought to attract was not of this world.”

  “Duroc played a dangerous game, and in the end he lost,” said Dominar with a touch of sadness in his voice.

  “Are we sure of that?” asked Sharka.

  “What do you mean?” asked Dom.

  Sharka answered, “Well, we don’t know what happened to him.”

  “You’re not suggesting that he survived whatever happened down here—are you?” asked Nal’drin.

  “Why not?” she replied, her eyes unflinching.

  “That was two hundred and twenty years ago, the dude’s dead and stinkin’!” remarked Nal’drin.

  “Duroc is alive,” said Theros.

  Nal’drin said, “I highly doubt it. I know this is a creepy place and all but—”

  “Duroc is alive,” repeated Theros with a slight edge in his voice.

  Everyone stopped in their tracks, and they turned toward him with questions in their eyes.

  Theros said, “We would be foolish to not anticipate that. We’d be walking into a trap.”

  “Well, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” said Nal’drin.

  Theros turned to face Nal’drin. “What’s harder to fathom, that an evil sorcerous dwarf king slaughtered all his people and survived for another two hundred years, or that something else killed him and his people, and still haunts this place? You tell me,” snapped Theros.

  “Woah, easy big guy. No need to get your loincloth twisted. None of us really know what’s going on yet,” was Nal’drin’s rebuttal.

  “It’s not a loincloth, you moron.”

  “That’s enough boys,” said Dom as he stepped in between his two friends, his eyes on his Theros. “It’s dangerous down here, we need to keep our wits about us so we don’t lose our selves down here. Okay?” He glanced at both men, and they each returned a nod of agreement.

  Dom winced in pain and put his hand over his ribs.

  Theros’s face flushed. The anger fled and concern took its place. “You okay?”

  It took a moment before the stabbing pain passed, and then Dom was able to speak again. “Let’s take a little walk my friend.”

  Theros said, “I think you should rest.”

  Dom shook his head indicating that his friend was wrong. “You’re coming with me big fella.”

  Dominar gingerly moved away from the group, heading back the direction they had already come. Dominar waited until they were about twenty yards away from the others when he came to a stop. He took a few shallow breaths. They hurt less. Then he turned and asked, “Theros, what aren’t you telling me?”

  “Dom—”

  The aged dwarf stopped him short. “Cut the crap. I’m old, not senile. I’ve known you long enough to know that’s pride in your face. I can even hear it in your voice.”

  Theros grunted in frustration and, in-part, amusement.

  “Out with it,” demanded Dom as he tugged at his scruff.

  “It’s nothing Dom,” said Theros.

  “Oh, so it’s gonna be like that then, eh?” grumbled Dom as he scowled and crossed his arms. He immediately regretted the gesture, as the sharp pains dug deep in between his ribs. He had been trying to suppress his groans, but the hurt was so sharp and sudden that there was no suppressing this one.

  Theros leaned down a bit and asked, “Is there anything I can do?”

  Dom snapped, “Answer the damned question.”

  Theros was taken aback a bit, but he saw that pain was the true culprit here.

  Dom shook his head and spoke again, “I’m sorry, I—”

  “It’s okay, Dom. You’re right. This place is bad enough, the last thing we need to do is keep secrets from one another. It’s just that... I don’t know... it seems... crazy.” I’m crazy, he thought.

  “What has he been telling you?” asked Dom.

  Theros saw wisdom in his friend’s eyes. “Who? What? How did you know?”

  “You’re not the only one he’s been talking to...”

  “The others too?” asked Theros with concern and surprise.

  “Oh, I don’t know about that, at least if he has, I don’t think it has been overt. I think it could be him, but either way, I don’t trust it,” admitted Dominar.

  “It’s him. I don’t know how I know, but I do. It’s Duroc,” said Theros.

  “Even still, we can’t trust him. What has he been saying to you?” asked Dom.

  “He speaks of destiny,” said the orc as he ran his rough fingers over his scalp.

  “So he wants to fool us into helping him accomplish his great destiny? That demented bastard!” said Dominar

  “Not his destiny,” said Theros with a pause, then he looked back into his frie
nd’s eyes. “Mine.”

  THE GROUP HAD BEEN following Nal’drin’s lead for several hours as he guided them through the extensive merchant quarter. It was surprising just how large the place was, especially considering that the entire kingdom couldn’t have been home to more than a few thousand dwarves at most. Dwarf populations were just generally smaller than other races.

  “They must have had horses or mules down here just to get around,” said Nal’drin. “They certainly made the streets wide enough for it.”

  “Boars, actually,” said Dominar.

  “They used pigs?” asked Kiriana with a look of disapproval.

  “That’d be my guess. It was common in the eastern culture. You’ve got to understand that we dwarves don’t exactly have pastoral homes. Living underground has its perks, but it has its limitations. If you’re going to have working beasts, you need to make sure they taste good too,” explained Dominar.

  “So you work them to death and then you eat them,” said Kiriana with a frown.

  “Yeah, that’s about how it works. Listen, I know it probably sounds harsh, but that is their lot in life. They don’t take up much space, they breed easy, they eat anything, they are tireless workers, and they cook up in dozens of ways,” reasoned Dom.

  “Hard to argue with your logic,” admitted Nal’drin.

  “It just seems... I don’t know... wrong. It’s like you’re eating your servants or something,” remarked Kiriana, scrunching her nose up at the idea.

  “Would it be any different if we just fed and tended them while they grazed all day?” asked Dom.

  “When you put it like that, what I’m saying sounds silly,” said Kiriana.

  “We often form bonds with our animal friends. It makes us view them differently. I think we can all understand that. However, any farmer or traveling merchant knows that they need beasts for much more than companionship. They need them to work. The dwarves are no different in that regard,” said Dom.

  “So dwarves are pig farmers. Nice,” noted Nal’drin.

  Kiriana thought for a moment and then conceded, “Well when you look at it that way, it seems less... barbaric. I guess it really comes down to how the beasts are treated.”