by Joel Babbitt
“Oh, Jerrig and Trallik. That’s what I meant. Well, you’re welcome.” She paused, then after mustering her courage, she continued, “I’ve come to talk with the leader of your company. Where is he?” Myaliae asked.
“I’m not sure where he is right now, but I do know that he was going to the forges with most of the rest of the company, either there or the leatherworking shops.”
Myaliae stood there thinking. There were several forges, as well as a handful of leatherworking shops. “Well,” she began, “I might as well tell you, as I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I’ve asked my gen’s master healer to let me go on this quest with you, and he’s consented.”
Kiria looked stunned, “You asked to go on a quest with us, from the Kale Gen?”
Myaliae looked a little defensive, “Well, I’m no different than you. I’d imagine you joined to get out of your gen and see what the rest of the world was all about.”
Kiria couldn’t help but agree. After all, that was exactly why she had joined Durik’s Company. “Well then, I guess you and I have a lot to talk about. Shall we talk for a while, maybe here on the porch?”
Myaliae nodded and the two young females walked over to the porch and sat.
Durik followed Manebrow’s advice and left with him for the quarters. He had left Kiria there for a purpose; he wanted to learn as much as he could about Demon’s Bridge, and perhaps the Hall of the Mountain King as well. He also thought it better to not hover over the warriors he’d left in charge. As such, the pair of leaders left Gorgon and Jerrig in charge of the two shops and, as Kabbak was the only one who had any experience in fitting clothes, he had Kabbak do all the measuring and draw out the patterns on the leather.
As they checked back with Gorgon and his crew they were surprised to see Gorgon explaining how to make casting molds to Tohr and Kahn. The iron they had was pure enough that it could be easily beaten into shape, but when asked about it Gorgon just said ‘trust me.’ Acquiescing, Durik left the matter to Gorgon’s judgment.
When they arrived back at the quarters they had another surprise. Myaliae, one of the Krall Gen healers, was there waiting for them. She stated that she’d been released by the Krall Gen’s master healer to accompany them on this quest. Durik and Manebrow looked at each other in surprise. They didn’t understand why the master healer, who had been at the council the night before, had let her come on this journey under their protection instead of as part of Morigar’s team, but they weren’t about to try to dissuade her from joining their Kale Gen company.
“Well met, then, Myaliae of the Krall Gen, and may you feel comfortable within our company,” Durik said.
“Thank you, I already do,” she said, motioning in the direction of Kiria and her two little brothers. “Kiria has explained much about your… I mean our company. It will be an honor to serve you for the duration of your quest.”
“Sire,” Kiria started, not used to using the title, “Terrim, Kabbak, and I are three. With Myaliae we are four. Would it not be better to make Myaliae and I a pair?”
Durik looked at Manebrow, who turned to Kiria and Myaliae. “So be it,” Manebrow said. “Myaliae, have you ever handled a bow?” he asked, changing the subject.
Myaliae looked a bit surprised, but nodded. “Some, though I’m not very good at it,” she answered.
“Good!” Manebrow answered. “I just happen to have an extra bow and quiver of arrows. Your first duty is to learn how to use it. Now, Kiria,” he said, turning his attention, “get your notes in order. Durik and I need to spend some time going over the maps and the writings on the Hall of the Mountain King, but in a while we’re going to want to discuss it with you also.”
Kiria nodded, her large, still mostly innocent eyes looking up at the hardened warrior. Manebrow pondered on that look after getting the bow and quiver for Myaliae and as he and Durik entered the quarters and set themselves to the task of gathering their materials and maps.
It had been a long time since Manebrow had felt so young, and so innocent. Around him were many young warriors. They were quickly losing their innocence as their hands were stained with blood and their hearts and minds were bent to the tasks of war and death. In his mind the question of how they would ever regain their innocence resounded, or if they, or he, would ever want to.
Perhaps this was the normal pattern of things, that generations should grow up, meet the harsh realities of life, either survive or die in the attempt, being forever changed by the experience, then go on to have children in their attempt to see again the joy and peace of innocence.
Manebrow shook his head. Whatever the factors were that drove the young ones to face death and pain, he no longer understood it. Perhaps he’d seen too much of it. Then again, perhaps it was simply because it had been too long since he’d felt any shred of innocence himself that he valued it so much.
He’d heard the cries of these young ones in the night and, knowing what they suffered, he felt guilty. Though his mind told him it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t help but feel that in part it was. He’d heard it said that this was the way of old warriors, to carry the burden of guilt long after their hands no longer carried the burden of war. Manebrow hoped that it would not be so with him, though in his heart he knew it couldn’t be any other way.
Durik and Manebrow passed much of the morning seated at the table in Durik’s room with the books, papers, and maps that they had been provided by Kiria and the leaders of the gen. Both of them already had a basic knowledge of the lore surrounding both the Hall of the Mountain King as well as Demon’s Bridge, but before they brought Kiria into the discussion the two of them wanted to have a much better understanding, and they wanted to have a list of questions ready for her.
After spending a brief time pouring through a narrative of a kobold’s quest by the name of Eekrek who explored the Hall of the Mountain King some hundreds of years before, Durik and Manebrow turned their attention to a scroll that was labeled ‘Demon’s Bridge.’
Clearing the table of the rest of Kiria’s books and scrolls, the two warriors unrolled the scroll and placed books at each corner to keep it from rolling back up. Standing back from the scroll to take a look at the entire thing, Durik was immediately confronted by a hand drawn image of a demon statue that seemed to have come directly out of his visions.
Looking around the scroll, Durik found a small map of the area of the bridge, as well as the small structure that sat next to the northern side of the bridge. Next to the portion of the map where the small structure sat was a depiction of a rather wicked looking set of runes. Looking around the scroll at the various writings, the pair of warrior leaders could find no explanation for the runes.
After stepping back and taking in the scroll as a whole, it was clear to both of them that the scroll had been made by a warrior contingent leader from the Krall Gen some hundred or so years in the past. It detailed watches that he’d set, sleeping areas, lists of supplies to be kept there, and the myriad of details that goes into establishing and maintaining an outpost.
Though there was very little else on the scroll that was useful to them, Manebrow pointed out a couple of paragraphs labeled ‘Warren of Passageways’ that attempted to describe the passages plunging into the mountain that started at Demon’s Bridge and which seemed to honeycomb the area around the bridge, even far below it. The most interesting part of the narrative was perhaps what it stated was unknown.
Durik’s heart suddenly began to burn within him as he read the closing words of the Krall Gen contingent leader:
“Though we’ve found the passage that leads down to the river under the mountain pass, the presence of the giant spiders has prevented us from continuing further down to scout out the reported location of the Castoffs’ Stronghold in the old abandoned Dwarven Mining Outpost.”
“Manebrow,” Durik started, “there is something to this Dwarven Mining Outpost it mentions. I can feel it again so strong. Despite what Khazak Mail Fist and Lord Krall think, I c
an’t see us going to the Hall of the Mountain King in search of the Kale Stone.”
Manebrow simply nodded and looked at the young leader.
“My visions have been too clear,” Durik continued, looking his second in the eyes. “And now again I feel the confirming feeling telling me that we should go to the Dwarven Mining Outpost.”
“Well, then that’s where we should go,” Manebrow stated simply. After a couple of moments of silence, he straightened up, a couple of popping noises coming from his back as he groaned slightly. “It won’t hurt my feelings if we don’t get to fight dragons.”
Durik shook his head and snorted at the unexpected humor. “Aye, Manebrow. I think the rest of the company would probably be alright with that as well.”
By the time Durik and Manebrow were done with their discussion, Kiria had finished explaining the rules of the company to Myaliae and was about halfway through the story of their journey to the Krall Gen when the two leaders exited the quarters. Standing, she bowed her head to the two of them and spoke, “Are you ready, sire?”
Durik was a bit surprised. Kiria was not in the habit of calling him ‘sire.’ Perhaps it was a sign that she was accepting her new station in life with more grace than he’d given her credit for up to now. “Yes, we’ve done a good amount of reading, and I think we’re both familiar enough with it to hold our own in a discussion.”
“Well, then, shall we get to our discussion?” Kiria asked as she moved toward the door to the quarters. Her lithe step and the sway of her hips were intoxicating. Durik had to look away.
Moving aside, he let her pass, taking a deep breath to refocus himself. From where she’d been sitting Myaliae stood and excused herself, stating she was off to pack her equipment and bring it to the quarters. It wasn’t long before Durik, Manebrow, and Kiria were seated around Durik’s table. As Kiria began to spread out her maps, books, and parchments, Durik grabbed her hand, the sudden touch startling her.
“I know what Khazak Mail Fist would have us do,” Durik said, releasing her hand and looking her in the eyes. “But I do not feel that the Hall of the Mountain King is where the object of our quest lies. The voice and visions… they are directing us toward Demon’s Bridge,” he said, referring to the visions that he now knew Morgra had given him. “And while we were reading the scroll on Demon’s Bridge, it was made clear to me that the Kale Stone is to be found in the old Dwarven Mining Outpost far below Demon’s Bridge.”
Kiria hesitated for a moment, taking in this new information. “Oh. Well then,” she said as she began to collect up her books and papers on the Hall of the Mountain King, “we should discuss what is known about this outpost then.”
Sorting through her various materials, Kiria pulled the scroll that Durik and Manebrow had been looking at earlier out of the mess, then finding the book she was looking for she placed it on the table as well, carefully packing away the rest.
“Let me see now,” she said as she poured over the scroll. “Ah yes, the Krall Gen Warrior Contingent Leader’s Scroll on Demon’s Bridge. Let’s see… warren of passages… river exit… fishing rock… giant spiders… Aha! Yes, the Castoffs’ Stronghold in the old Dwarven Mining Outpost.” Sitting again, Kiria opened the book she had left on the table. After thumbing through several pages, she looked up at the pair of warrior leaders who were waiting patiently for her to speak.
“Here in this book on the history of the Hall of the Mountain King it speaks of the origin of this Dwarven Mining Outpost.” For several moments Kiria leafed through the pages of the tome. Eventually she began to speak. “What brought the dwarves here originally was the presence of a rather large vein of gold that ran through the underdark in what used to be the pass between the northern and southern valleys. That vein of gold was mostly exhausted by the time of The Sorcerer, though it was still active clear up until the beginning of the War of the Races, at the end of which The Sorcerer separated the races with massive geological changes… such as the Chop which he created right over the pass where many of the original mines that this outpost supported used to be.”
“So, when The Sorcerer made the Chop, did it not collapse this mining outpost?” Manebrow asked. “With such a huge event happening, I can’t imagine the outpost surviving.”
“Well, as you probably already know, our race was created after that event, and the dwarves had already fled the area as the hordes of the brutal races were driving them before them. And, if there were any members of the brutal races here, they certainly didn’t leave us any record of that event. We do know, though, that however The Sorcerer created the Chop, he did it without completely destroying the outpost and some of the mines it supported.”
“We have a record of the outpost after the Chop was formed?” Durik asked.
“Yes,” Kiria nodded. “Actually, I’ve copied some passages from the annuls of our gen that were written by a kobold named Nimminar.”
Durik and Manebrow looked at each other blankly. Neither of them had ever heard of him.
“Nimminar was an outcast from the Krall Gen that lived a couple of hundred years ago during a time when the Krall and Kale Gens were not the best of friends. Apparently he lost some contest for leadership of the Krall Gen, and therefore even though he was the son of the recently deceased lord of their gen, his brother, who won the contest and therefore took over leadership of the gen, banished Nimminar.
“Nimminar had heard of the outcasts that lived in the underdark below our valley even then, and so, being determined to win back leadership of the Krall Gen, he went into the underdark and began organizing the disparate outcast groups into his own gen of sorts. Well, in his quest for power he discovered the old Dwarven Mining Outpost and made it his seat of government. Later, when his attempt to overthrow the Krall Gen failed and his forces were surrounded and slaughtered, he came to live with our gen. That’s how we have his account.”
Durik leaned forward, “so what does he say about this outpost, and what do you think we’ll find there after all these years?”
Kiria nodded her head. “To answer the implied question first, yes, it could still be overrun by the outcasts. In fact, I’d imagine it is occupied, assuming it’s still as intact as it was two centuries ago.” She paused and pulled out a piece of leather that Durik recognized as the map that they had gotten from the orc outcasts on their way to the first night’s resting place. Laying it out on the table, she pointed to the depiction of the Chop and the marking of an orc lair next to it. “On this ragged map we got from those orc outcasts we slew, however, it shows that they came from the vicinity of Demon’s Bridge, so it may be that the Bloodhand Orcs have captured not only Demon’s Bridge, but the Dwarven Mining Outpost as well. We’ll have to see.”
“And what of the layout of the actual outpost?” Durik pressed.
“The outpost itself has a very simple, yet solid layout. Essentially, you’ve got one main entrance, a couple of main passageways with several smaller passageways leading away from them, and several rooms, living quarters and storage rooms mostly, all of which have thick walls in between them to ensure structural integrity. The only real interesting structures within the outpost are three: a large open barracks room, a small throne room that was originally a council chamber when the dwarves still owned the place, and an underground garden, amazingly still alive two hundred years ago thanks to magical lights in the ceiling and a rather ingenious water seepage system.”
Manebrow and Durik both raised their eyebrows at the mention of the magical garden.
“The outpost was built several hundred feet below the surface,” Kiria continued, “and not a hundred feet above the ancient track that our valley’s river used to take when it plunged below the valley. The river, however, has since found a different course and apparently the wells in the outpost were mostly dry when Nimminar lived there.”
“Is there any mention of traps or secret rooms and such?” Durik asked.
Kiria shook her head. “If they exist, Nimminar didn’t d
iscover any during his short reign down there, or at least he didn’t mention them if he did find any.”
Durik had one more burning question, but he just couldn’t bring himself to ask it. The vision of Morgra still sat very much in the forefront of his heart, though his mind had been distracted. He still had yet to come to grips with it, however, and as such he decided that now would not be the right time to bring up something that felt almost too sacred to mention.
“Did you have any more questions?” Kiria asked, seeing him lost in thought.
Durik sat forward, “Well, I think that’ll have to do for now.” Turning to Manebrow, he continued, “Do you want to check on the status of the second meal while I see how our operation is coming along?”
Manebrow nodded and the two of them stood up. “We’ll talk much more, Kiria,” Durik said. “There are many questions left unanswered and I’d like to know as much as I can before I step foot in the place.”
Kiria stood, “There isn’t much else in the writings of our gen. Perhaps there is more in the writings of the Krall Gen that my aunt can help me find. I’ll work on that in the meantime. Perhaps we can speak again this evening.”
Durik looked her in the eyes and nodded. “Aye, that we will. Until then,” he said as he and Manebrow turned to leave. Behind them, Kiria slowly exhaled as she relaxed, and began to ponder on her role in the company and her relationship to the others in it, especially to Durik.
Chapter 13 – Forging Steel
As Durik approached the low hut where the forge was located he was surprised to see Gorgon and Ardan both pushing wheelbarrows, one loaded with limestone and the other with bricks, toward the sunken door of the hut. “What are you going to do with that?” he asked as first Gorgon and then Ardan noticed him approaching.
