On cue Votrex grasped the fitting and jerked it upright, there was a flash in the panel and next to the fitting, smooth wall divided into bricks, then opened up into a doorway, and a spiral staircase formed out of rock taking them down about one storey into a permanent, non-magical stairway. The walls and steps which were part of the spell were obvious, they were smooth with a glass like finish and warm to touch.
Votrex grabbed the panel and with Brael’s help slid it back into place. Once it was in it was again impossible to see where it was. They peered into the opening.
Votrex shrugged, then stepped forwards leading the way...
Eventually the the narrow spiral staircase opened out into a broad fairly steep stone staircase that headed down in a straight line. Saul peered into the gloom, the darkness was absolute beyond, he could see the first few steps, then nothing but black. Votrex and Brael had already started down the steps, but with his human eyes unable to detect the infra-red he had no choice but to cast a small mage light, so held his hand aloft, “Racha... Vorrow!”
As he spoke a small hovering lantern light floated in the air above him, he felt a rush of cold as energy from his body set the spell and maintained it.
What he saw took his breath away; the stairs were well maintained and had a crafted look to them. The walls were adorned with runes and carvings and were very well fitted. Everything looked old though, it was covered in a thick layer of dust and the whole tunnel had a dry, dead smell about it.
The Warren
When Votrex, Brael and Saul reached the foot of the stairs, they opened out onto a wide, open corridor with a roof which curved inwards to high point, making it almost triangular. It was broad enough to drive two carts side by side and have room to spare. Again it was well made and in good condition, but the ground had shook and moved, splitting rock and causing sections of roof to fall in.
Votrex looked around in dismay, “Gah! Look at the place. What a mess!”
Brael stepped forwards and kneeled down at the opposite side of the great corridor, “Look, a skeleton - it looks to be of dwarvish origin. What happened here Votrex?”
Saul eyed the skeleton, it was dry and what little flesh was left on it was decayed and wrinkled like old leather. It looked like it would crumble to dust if you so much as breathed on it. Tellingly, the skeleton lay face down, with three arrows resting loose in the rib cage. The dwarf had been wearing a leather breast-plate when they were killed; it had offered little protection from the arrows which appeared to have caused the death. The arrows looked crude and rough; the feather’s on the ends had long since decayed away and fallen into the dust.
Votrex studied the corpse for a moment, eyeing the armour, the helmet, and the arrows. After a long pause he turned to Saul and Brael, “A casualty of the war I suspect.”
Saul stepped closer, “War? What war?”
Votrex frowned, “I don’t want to talk about it...”
Brael dropped a hand on Saul’s shoulder, “Wizard, for centuries while the elves and humans were warring above ground, there have been wars raging underground. I suspect the conflict Votrex is so sensitive about is the long struggle between the Verkreath and the Dwarves, when I left Durth Orza, the gravian citadels were still under attack from the Verkreath and probably still are today.”
Votrex scowled, he clearly didn’t want to explore this line of conversation, but Saul was intrigued, “Verkreath? I’ve never heard of Verkreath - what are they?”
“Rat men, burrowing around under the earth, killing, murdering, then feeding off the living or the dead... They eat their own dead... They are far fouler than the orcs and goblins who threaten the Empire and should they ever seek to see the light of day - they would prove a greater threat also.”
“Urgh! I’ve never heard of, or seen these creatures.”
“You are unlikely to have, so far as I know they have not ventured about ground in known memory. You should be thankful of that.”
Votrex peered into the gloom, then turned to Brael and Saul, “How about we throw some light on the subject?”
Saul frowned, “Votrex?”
Votrex walked up to the wall of the large tunnel and slid a stone inscribed with a rune from one position to another, across a recess in the wall.
As he did this every several lights in the tunnel ignited, it appeared that there should have been one every ten feet or so, on either side of the tunnel but some were clearly not working, some didn’t light at all and some sparked and smoked, but did not emit a constant light.
Saul stared in wonder, “How is this possible?”
Brael was already at the first light studying it; he sighed deeply then turned to Saul. “Rune work, very clever rune work... Hmmm, how to put this to you wizard, energy and matter are interchangeable... At the base, base level everything is made of the same thing, too small for us to see - but the same thing. The only exception to this is magic, which is a form of exotic energy, and doesn’t follow the normal rules of reality.”
“So how do-”
Votrex cut in this time, pointing at one of the lights which burned with a constant, soft glow, “Look, this rune is an accumulator, it picks up any loose magic energy, this rune next to it converts magic energy into stored energy, the cavity around this rune, is created by this rune, which converts matter into stored energy, the stored energy is converted into light by this rune... Sometimes the cavity will not grow deeper for a long time, it depends on the ambient magic level... However, this circuit needs to collect and store energy and drip feed it to produce a constant, soft light that is comfortable to look at, and useful.”
Humans had not unravelled the mysteries of rune work, and this was an education to Saul, the more time he spent with these accidental comrades, the more in awe of their knowledge of the arcane he became. He also mused that the gravian and the dwarf were as different from each other as they were each from Vashni or from humans. Votrex had an instinct for stone earth and mechanical things, Brael a profound understanding of how things worked, particularly things ‘arcane’. It struck Saul at this point that though Votrex was possibly a fairly typical dwarf, however Brael had something about him, something about his demeanour suggested he was anything but typical even for a gravian.
Votrex cast him a knowing look from behind his thick beard, and turned his back on Saul walking down the tunnel away from the long straight staircase which they’d entered by.
Brael followed closely, and Saul, who had loitered, studying the mysterious light and his companions, had to trot to catch up, “Votrex, how far does this ‘warren’ extend?”
Votrex shrugged without turning around, “It extends most of the way under Torea, its original purpose was to allow deep dwarves to travel between our settlements without heading to the surface... Alas the war with the Verkreath has left it in tatters... I know sections of it are intact and functional, but many sections are collapsed or overrun.”
“Can we use this tunnel to get past Duramer?”
“Tis possible - we should investigate further, however, at any point we might find it blocked, and have to turn back. There are not as many ways in and out of the warren as there were, most have been either sealed up or forgotten.”
Brael gazed down the long tunnel which wound slowly around a long sweeping corner out of sight, “We should not travel too far and we should mark this tunnel which leads to our Lo house - we do not want to get lost down here.”
Votrex gave him a look of amusement, “Do as you wish gravian, I shall not ‘get lost down here’ though. Come.”
Votrex started walking, while Brael began placing a series of stones in a straight line from the tunnel they’d emerged from to the other side of the broad tunnel, to the dry skeletal corpse of the dwarf they’d come across earlier. Saul called after Votrex, “Votrex, wait! How do you know this is the right way? We should be heading west!”
Votrex pointed at a line of ancient dwarf writing on the side of the tunnel, “Because it says so Wizard!”
The Challenge of Ramon Hern
Vashni and Korhan were sleeping peacefully. They had been for some time, Votrex, Saul and Brael being deep underground, following the ancient tunnels of the warren. The rain eventually died down, as did the once roaring fire in the hearth. Vashni was eventually awoken by the door being violently opened and boots thundering up the steps, she quickly whispered in Korhan’s ear, “Mil§irna sharam fo§ Ri§ine...”
Upon hearing the words Korhan was dragged violently from his deep slumber to full alertness, he intended to ask Vashni why she’d awoken him, but soldiers stormed into the room with their swords drawn. Vashni glared at them, “What is the meaning of this intrusion!?”
As she finished speaking Kyla stepped into the room, her hood fallen about her shoulders, “I am sorry to disturb you, but there has been a development.”
Korhan pushed himself up onto one elbow, “What kind of development?”
“The servant of the flame it seems is aware that you are here, and aware that you have slain their dragon. The city gates have long since been closed, but their leader, is at the gate, with thousands, thousands of followers, demanding to speak to you - or he will burn our city to the ground.”
Vashni almost leapt off the bed, “Can you not defend the city against this rabble?”
“Ordinarily yes, but most of my soldiers are dead, ill or grieving. I wish it was not so, but I must demand that you speak to him.”
Korhan swung his legs off the bed and picked up harbinger, strapping it to his back. Vashni donned her cloak and gestured toward the stairs, “Very well acting Berger, we shall speak to Ramon Hern - lead the way.”
Kyla sighed, “I am sorry, but I see no choice. There is a balcony above the west gate, you can see what he has to say from a safe distance.”
With that Kyla span on her heel and started walking, her troops waited for Vashni and Korhan though. Vashni flashed Korhan a knowing look of concern before striding after the Berger’s daughter. As they left the room the embers of the fire were dying down, the soldiers fell in behind them. It occurred to Korhan at this point how comfortable their brief accommodation had been and the thought made him long to stay there, to curl up on the bed again and drift off back to sleep. It was clearly the middle of the night, as they exited onto the street they looked up to see the stars shining brightly. Rather than lead them through the narrow, plague cursed streets, Kyla led them to a small doorway, set into the thick town walls at the back of the citadel. It was a small thing to be thankful for. To Korhan it felt like they were being escorted to their own execution somehow. He had a bad feeling about this encounter.
As they trudged up the stairway embedded in the wall Kyla turned to Korhan and almost whispered, “Where are your companions?”
Vashni heard and cut in before Korhan could answer, “We know not, perhaps they felt like catching some night air or wished to find an ale house or gambling den?”
Kyla sighed, “I do not know what this Ramon Hern wants, but I suggest seeing as they are not here, you do not mention them unless you have to. I cannot offer you protection from the servant at the cost of my town, but if you can appease him without him learning about your comrades - then I suggest you do.”
Korhan and Vashni considered this, it was true - nobody had to know about Votrex, Saul and Brael. The last member of the servant to see them was Ellen, for all she knew the only surviving members of the encounter could well be Korhan and Vashni. Their belief in Thrax’s powers would probably substantiate this.
As they emerged onto the battlements of the town wall they felt the wind whipping about them. It was sheltered in the town, behind the high, heavy-set stone walls, but up here there was no protection from the elements.
Kyla led the way, eventually leading them around the wall to the west gate. As they trudged behind her, they couldn’t help but glance down at the den of misery Strak had become, family, homes riddled with plague, the inhabitants terrified for their lives, now with a fanatical cult at their gates - for the town of Strak, things simply couldn’t get worse. A tall tower with a doorway and spiral staircase stood above both sides of the gate. Without pausing Kyla led them down the spiral staircase, to a balcony built into the thick walls, between the two towers and above the main gate. When they emerged they gasped at the sight that they beheld. Kyla’s estimate of ‘thousands’ had seemed pessimistic; most people of Torea would throw around big numbers with little understanding of their meaning - simply to say ‘a great many’. In this case however Kyla’s idly cast estimate of the servant of the flame was not so unrealistic. There may not have been thousands, but there were certainly hundreds. Hundreds of torch bearing, pitchfork wielding citizens, stretching into the distance.
At the head of the mass stood a man in black armour, it looked a little like plate mail armour, but with a more organic design to it. The armour looked familiar, as Korhan studied it he realised where he’s seen it - it looked remarkably like dragon scales, he whispered to Vashni, “His armour - it’s dra-”
“I know Ri§ine, look..”
He traced her finger to where she was pointing, there near the head of the mass was Ellen, looking quite triumphant, almost smug. Next to her, two burly looking thugs were holding Callen firmly, while a third held a long, curved dagger at his throat, the tip gently resting on his Adams apple. It explained immediately what had happened to Callen, clearly he’d been intercepted by the servant of the flame before he could reach Strak, Ellen had been freed and they’d hurried to Thrax’s lair in order to stop them attacking the beast. Only the fact that the battle had been over relatively swiftly, had they been able to escape.
The black armoured man, his face hidden behind a dragonscale helmet stepped forwards, shouting in an almost mocking voice, “Ho dragonslayers! I demand the honour of crossing swords with you!”
Korhan stepped forwards, about to answer the challenge, when Vashni rested a hand on shoulder, “Beware Ri§ine, powerful wards and magics are woven around him. Thrax or another powerful mage has augmented him significantly, I do not wish for either of us to duel this man at this time.”
The man stepped closer still, brandishing his sword, “My name is Ramon Hern, and I am Thrax’s Dagon, or high priest... Would you not allow me the honour of dying, seeking vengeance for the death of our prophet?”
Korhan turned suddenly to Vashni, “Prophet?”
“I thought as you Ri§ine, that they deemed ‘Thrax’ their god... Whatever he speaks of, is new to me as well.”
The figure chuckled, still walking closer, “Yes! Prophet! Not god, the true master of the skies, flame and creation itself, is still awaiting for the preparation of his arrival. Your slaying of his prophet is a mere inconvenience, no more, no less... Where are the rest of your number?”
Korhan shouted, “Dead, eaten or killed by Thrax!”
“Ahh... A Noble end, for a warrior, Ishar would sing their praises I’m sure. Surely a death at the hands of a noble dragon guarantees their places at Ishar’s table in Kirkfell? Do you not wish, to join them?”
Korhan stepped forwards, Vashni dropped a hand on his shoulder, trying to hold him back but he shrugged her off and stepped right to the edge, “What do you want Dagon Hern?”
“Ah, and who is this that speaks?”
“Korhan Dragonslayer, son of Brian!”
“Ah, you dealt the killing blow to beloved Thrax, our lord and master? Then I would cross swords with you?”
Vashni chuckled, “Then I am free to go?”
“No, you are not... I challenge you to a duel, Korhan son of Brian. If you refuse I shall have Callen’s throat slit, then I shall have my followers lay siege to this town and burn it to the ground. If you accept and win, then you are all free, I have commanded my followers to disband and return to their lives should I fall in combat, as my deat
h at your hand will discredit the greatness of the lord of sky and flame.”
“And if I lose?”
“The town of Strak shall still be saved, we will trouble it no longer... Callen’s will die of course... And your elf friend there, hmmm - she shall be thrown into the plague pit and left to rot. There are fresh bodies on the carts, so should you lose, she shall be buried alive with the rotting corpses, of the infected dead.”
Vashni visibly shuddered at this, she glared at Korhan, and spat at him, “Fool! Why did you have to tell him you dealt the killing blow?”
Korhan looked bewildered, “I-”
“If you had allowed ME, to take credit for Thrax’s death then I could duelled with him... You, are NOT ready... You will lose!”
Vashni then stepped forwards and called out, “He lies! I delivered the killing blow!”
“I do not believe you elf, I shall give you a count of ten to get down here - both of you, or be prepared to watch your young friend bleed to death, choking on his own blood and your pitiful, plague ridden town burned to the ground.”
Korhan sighed, exasperated, he felt out of options, he turned to Vashni, “Can’t you do something?”
“Hah! What exactly are you proposing I ‘do’ Ri§ine? I cannot ‘whisper away’ this mess.”
Ramon’s Herns voice called out. “One!”
Korhan turned to Kyla. “Can you defend the town?”
She shook her head, “I’m sorry barbarian, I cannot... I do not have enough troops, or enough food to withstand, a siege. Even if I could, what good what that do your friend?”
Ramon called out again, “Two!”
Vashni glared at Kyla and Korhan, “My life is worth more than an orphaned blacksmith’s son. Kyla, command your troops to defend the town!”
Korhan groaned, “He helped us! He knew his life would be endangered if he did - we can’t abandon him... And so many people will die if I refuse him, I only have to kill one man and I can prevent a river of bloodshed!”
Deathsworn Arc: 02 - The Verkreath Horror Page 4
