People came trickling in over the next day as the notice of their impending assault was spread to those who had gathered there before, and all of them appeared highly determined. “It’s worse than I thought,” Winter said almost immediately after his arrival. “Dungeon monster frequency is increasing the closer you get to the wasteland, and our resources are being overwhelmed. Having these Energy Orbs has helped me defend against them, but without every Elite having them, we’re fighting a losing battle.” The prickly Elite looked exhausted, and for the first time, Echo felt sorry for him.
“Which is exactly why you are all here,” the Elder announced once everyone had arrived. “It’s time we set things right and get you that help you need. We move in an hour and attack tonight.” She turned to Echo, presenting something to her. “Echo, I have something for you.”
Her bow. She had been wondering where the special weapon crafted by Sandra had gone, since it hadn’t been on the Roc when she landed, along with all of the Energy Orbs they had brought. She even had a quiver full of the special bolts required for its use, because normal arrows tended to shatter from the incredible power the bow put out. Not only that, but there were a handful of explosive-tipped arrows, filled with tiny Energy Orbs that would explode because of an enchantment placed on them.
“Thank you, Elder.” Echo looked at the staff in Herrlot’s hand, finally getting the chance to ask her about it; the Elder had been so busy organizing things that the Ranger rarely saw her for more than a few minutes at a time. “If I may ask, what did you do with the staff?” The green-glowing Natural Energy Orb was on the tip of the staff, held in place by the wood, which appeared to have been grown around it magically.
“Oh, you noticed that? It’s something I thought up while we were waiting for an opportunity to get you away from where you were being held.” She held it out for Echo to see it closer, while describing what it was. “While I’m not adept at enchanting like the Gnomish people, I’ve picked up a little bit over the years. I figured out a way for the Energy Orb on the end to act as an amplifier, adding energy to the Natural spells I cast if I manipulate the energy through the staff itself. It takes a little more concentration, but the output of my spells are magnified exponentially as a result.”
“That’s amazing.” It truly was, too. From what she knew, the enchantments that Sandra created relied on the rune sequence itself to produce an effect – none of them amplified spells like the Elder’s staff did. “Why just your Natural spells? Why not the others?”
Instead of answering, Herrlot asked her own question. “What did you learn about enchanting while you were in Sandra’s dungeon?”
“Honestly, not much. I couldn’t ever really get the hang of more than extremely simple, basic enchantments – and even those were poorly made.”
“Yes, but what about the materials you used?”
Echo was perplexed. “Well, I practiced using some steel and wood, but some of them were only good for—oh. I see now; you’d have to have a compatible material for your staff.”
“Exactly; I can’t very well hold a staff of water, after all, and something made from dirt, stone, or metal would be a bit heavy to lug around. I’m sure there are some other options for them, but I haven’t had time to experiment.”
Echo thought about her own elements, Air and Holy, and couldn’t imagine what could be used as a material with those, so she could understand the Elder’s point.
“Gotcha. Now, when do we leave?”
Churven showed up just then, with a grave expression on his face. “We’re ready. We leave now.”
Finally. Hopefully, this is finished quickly, so I can get back and let Sandra know what is going on. With that thought, she followed the others out of the hidden location, ready for whatever came next.
Chapter 18
Waiting for a specific event to happen was a whole lot more stressful than just being held in the stone cell with no particular knowledge of being released. Every waking minute, Gerold was expecting to hear the Drums that indicated that an attack was underway, which would – if Master Blacksmith Jespin was telling the truth – result in his expeditious release from captivity and subsequent escape. He was looking forward to fulfilling at least one of his promises to Sandra, and bringing Jespin with him would certainly accomplish that; a difficult problem with a relatively simple solution.
It was the waiting that was the hardest part.
From what he could tell, over a week had passed since the last time that Jespin had visited him, and although he had been told it was to dissuade anyone from looking too closely at what the Blacksmith was doing, that didn’t make the loneliness any better. In fact, as much as he hated to admit it, he missed Sandra’s voice in his head; just knowing that she was there when he was near her dungeon was something he’d never thought about before. Especially since it had seemed like such a violation of his personal space before. What I wouldn’t give to be able to speak to someone—anyone. I’d even take Second-shield Bregan yelling at me constantly; at least it would be better than this silence.
That silence was finally broken in the middle of what he was considering night (which was when he was used to sleeping over the last nearly 2 weeks), as the room started to shake under him. The reverberating Drums of War pounded through the entire cell system, startling him out of a deep sleep from which it took him a few moments to wake. At first he thought it was an extension of a dream he was having, but after the drumming didn’t stop right away, he knew it was real.
Getting to his feet, Gerold stood at the door to his cell, looking through the large cut-out piece with iron bars blocking his way, expecting the Master Blacksmith to show up at any time to set him free. Now that it was time for his escape, time seemed to slow down as anticipation and excitement flowed through his veins, and the former Shieldman practically bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet.
“C’mon, Jespin. Where are you?” he whispered, though with the sounds of the drums pounding through the entire mountain, he doubted anyone could hear him. He waited and waited, the fire running through his blood fading a bit as no one appeared. An hour or so passed, and then another; through it all, the drums didn’t stop.
Something’s wrong. He should be here by now…or he was lying to me all along. For some reason, he doubted that was the problem, because Jespin had seemed sincere in his need to break Gerold out so that he could use Sandra’s help obtaining mithril. That, and the fact that the Drums hadn’t stopped reverberating through his bones even after a few hours was alarming.
“I’m not waiting anymore; I’ve got to get out of here to see what’s going on.” Lately, he had been talking to himself to pass the time; he was aware that it wasn’t normal and likely meant that his mental state was slipping from the forced isolation, but he didn’t care.
Gathering up his Water energy, he attempted to manipulate it like he had seen Echo and Sandra’s Shapeshifters do, but it wasn’t as easy as they made it look. He was used to applying his energy through his armor, not bending it to his will to affect the world around him. Gerold could bring it out, even gather it between his hands, but getting it to actually do something was nearly impossible.
“Focus, Gerold. Focus.”
The pounding of the Drums didn’t help with his focus, of course, though after a while he was able to block them out as he concentrated on what he was doing. Eventually, Gerold was able to walk forward with the Water energy between his hands, before thrusting the roiling energy towards the lock. With a superior force of will, he convinced the energy to create water—and then he urged it to quickly freeze, filling the entire lock with ice that expanded as it froze. There was a loud *crack* that could be heard even over the Drums, and Gerold sagged in relief.
Letting the energy go, he nearly fell on his face as he reached to try his cell door. “Whoa…that was intense.” Gerold had used up almost all of his Water elemental energy in doing just that one single effect, though he could feel it slowly regenerating from the E
nergy Orb in his palm. “This is definitely a lot harder than I thought. If I had my armor, that would’ve been nothing.” He could picture just pressing one of his gauntlets up against the lock and willing his energy to produce a coating of water, before it was flash frozen; better yet, he thought that he could’ve probably slammed his armored fist into the lock mechanism itself, breaking it open.
“This spell-casting business definitely isn’t for Dwarves.” While he was sure that some Dwarves might be able to figure it out, Gerold was cognizant of his own limitations.
Reaching out and testing the door, he found that the lock had indeed broken – but was stuck with a thin fragment of iron keeping the door shut tight. Brute force was all it took to shake the fragment loose, and he was able to yank it open, freeing him from his cell. Unfortunately, something like 4 more locked doors remained between him and freedom.
It took another 30 minutes or so for him to recover physically, as well as regenerating his Water energy to work on the next lock. This time, it took him a little less time to break the lock, as well as less energy, but it was still draining, nonetheless. He figured it might get easier if he knew specifically what to do, but as there was no one there to teach him, he was struggling his way through it.
After 2 more hours and three more locked doors down long hallways, deep in the heart of Stonebrink Hall, Gerold finally made it out of his confinement. In all that time, the Drums didn’t stop, though their previous staccato rhythm was reduced to one *thump* every 5 seconds or so, as if whoever was responsible for keeping them going was getting tired. “That’s definitely not a good sign.”
Speaking his thoughts out loud was almost automatic at that point, and it was only when he passed through the last locked door and into the wide-open cavern that was the center of the Hall that he realized he should probably be a bit quieter now that someone might hear him. Except that, looking around at the deserted homes, shops, and governmental buildings, there was not a single soul in sight.
He realistically knew that the residents of the Hall, those not dedicated to their defense, had likely been sent somewhere safer. There were literally hundreds of miles of tunnels under the ground, connecting all of the different strongholds and Halls of their people, easily collapsed if necessary in case of attack; the Drums of War weren’t only used to warn of attack, but to let those who had evacuated down the tunnels if it was safe to come back or not. Gerold didn’t know enough about them to know what the 5-second delay meant exactly, but it was quite possible that it meant for everyone to stay away until further notice. At least, that was the impression he got when he didn’t see a single person.
While he didn’t see anyone, that didn’t mean nothing was nearby. The exhausted Dwarf could hear the familiar sounds of metal striking against stone, flesh, and bone coming from down one of the larger passageways leading to a different section of the Hall. The sounds of random screams also erupted every once in a while, though it was hard to tell from the echoes if they were Dwarven…or something else.
“They must have broken through one of the side passages; that could be why they are still having trouble with those monsters.” Gerold immediately looked towards the passageway leading to the Hall’s outside entrance, to his freedom, as he tried to ascertain whether there was any fighting going on. After a few minutes of not hearing anything, he walked closer to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, taking his time as his body still needed to recover from using so much Water energy in a short amount of time. Looking at his palm, he was glad to see that even though he had refilled his energy pool multiple times, the blue Orb had barely reduced in size; the change was still noticeable, but not enough to worry him.
A few minutes later, the Dwarf was at the passageway leading towards the entrance, and he peeked around the corner to check if it was clear. Down the long hallway, he could see the large, steel-hinged, circular stone doorway ahead. Where he always remembered at least 4 Shieldmen guarding the door in distinct spots worn into the floor, now there wasn’t a single one. It was quite a distance away down the long passageway, granted, but there was nowhere for them to hide; not only that, but the extremely heavy steel crossbar was set in place across the portal, blocking it from opening at all.
“It’s clear, but how do I get that crossbar off?” If he had been in his armor, applying a bit of energy through his gear would’ve helped to boost the strength of his arms, through an application of water flexing his armor joints, and through dark Nether energy slightly reducing the weight of the bar where he was grabbing it. Even then, it would still be difficult, but it could be done; other elements like Earth were even better for increasing the weight one was able to lift while wearing armor, which was why there was at least one Shieldman with Earth at the door at all times. Alas, he no longer had his armor, which had led him to the situation in which he currently found himself in the first place.
He backed up from the entrance tunnel, looking around for some sort of tool that would allow him to lift the crossbar off. “If I can get that off, then I can…what? Flee? Fly back to Sandra empty-handed?” He felt like a coward, running from the fight that was going on in the middle of Stonebrink Hall, but he wasn’t exactly equipped to fight. “Now, if only I had my—” he started to say, before shock caused his mouth to shut with a snap.
My Deep Diver suit!
Near the far wall, scrunched up in a crouch, was his suit. Gerold immediately sprinted towards it, all weakness in his body ignored as he got closer, only to be crestfallen when he saw the damage to the Deep Diver. “Oh, no – what happened to you?!” he asked it, as if it could answer. While it wasn’t the same as his armor made for him by Master Blacksmith Jespin, it was the next best thing; to see it all banged up, dented, and scuffed was like being hit right in the chest. “And how did you get so dirty?!”
Running his hands over the outside of the suit, he was relieved to see that – despite the minor damage – the Deep Diver suit still appeared functional. Through analyzing some of the worst dents, he immediately realized what happened; in his efforts to unstrap the suit from the Roc, he must have at least partially succeeded before he was surrounded and brought inside, because his mobile armor suit had fallen off at some point after he told the bird to escape.
“I’m guessing that they just recently found you and brought you inside; some of this dirt still seems moist, so it probably wasn’t more than a day ago.” That no one was using it to help defend the Hall wasn’t much of a surprise; even if they figured out how it worked, most of the defenders were Shieldmen in their armor – and armor wouldn’t fit inside the suit.
“With this, I can definitely get that crossbar off…” He trailed off as he was interrupted by a scream coming from down the passageway where the fighting was going on. “But, I could help them out with my suit! It’s my duty as a Shieldman to defend my people, after all.”
Now he was arguing with himself as he looked between the entrance and his freedom, and the passageway where danger lay just out of sight. “Yes, but even if I help, they’ll just lock me up again afterwards.
Gerold wasn’t sure if the Master Blacksmith would’ve stayed to defend the Hall, or would’ve evacuated with the rest; he was vaguely certain that Jespin said that he had stayed during the last attack, so it was possible he was still there. “There’s no point in leaving empty-handed, like I said before. Perhaps I can find Jespin somewhere? The whole point of coming here was to get help; if I leave without him, this whole thing will have been a failure.
“But I could die, not helping anyone in the process. Sandra will never know what happened.
“I’ll just have to take that chance, and hope that seeing my suit in action will convince the other Shieldmen that I did my best to make up for the destruction of my armor,” he finally decided. “Besides, they are the only ones who might know where Jespin is located.”
So saying, he crouched down in order to get inside the back of the Deep Diver suit, which was a little more difficult than normal
; it seemed as though its crouched form, which was good for transportation, had been bent over even more than it used to be, and it was hard to get his body parts inside. After some wiggling, straining, and sheer force, he managed to get his body inside, placing his hands in the spots where he could control the suit.
Immediately, the metal of the suit came alive, and he could straighten himself up, taller than any other Dwarf by a few feet as he reached around and clumsily tried to close the back up. After fumbling for a minute or so, he realized that something had been bent out of shape and it wouldn’t close, so his back was essentially going to have to stay exposed for the time being. Looking down at his suit, the flexing of the metal as it was activated seemed to have smoothed out a portion of the smaller dents, though the larger dents remained as well as it still being scuffed up and dirty.
Testing everything else, he found that nothing had been permanently damaged other than the hatch in the back, as he was able to operate the suit with a full range of movement. Testing out the other enchantments, he was pleased to see that his right arm created a 3-foot-long pole of ice, which was attached to the crudely beautiful axe head he had seen before he left for home. He was eager to test it on something other than a rock, and to see how well it performed.
As for the dark fog that was supposed to act as a buffer against tremendous hits, he activated it and immediately couldn’t see anything, just like it had done so before. “I really wish Sandra had the time to fix this; maybe when I get back?” Deactivating it was a simple process, at least, and he figured that if there was dire enough need, it could at least keep him from being knocked halfway across the Hall.
With only the slightest hesitation, as he wasn’t exactly happy about helping those who had intentionally locked him up, Gerold raced down the passageway leading to the fighting, rounding through 2 different curves in the tunnel, until it finally let out in a relatively smaller space than the cavern he just came from. From previous knowledge, he knew that this was the Whiskeyflow Tavern, a large establishment that held nearly 200 people comfortably, or a maximum of twice that number if they were packed together.
The Crafter's Dominion: A Dungeon Core Novel (Dungeon Crafting Book 5) Page 18
