The Eastern Dwarfs: Part Two - The Underground Journey

by Leo deSouza

  “Ye called me for one reason, lord Gorduro. Ye know I saw the orc army, and that I fought against them. I believe I can provide good aid on this, plus I would be one more able warrior in this quest. Then I promise to come back with answers and tell ye everything I come to know.”

  Gorduro now walked slowly around the place as he rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “Huuum… Maybe this is something doable…”

  “We can’t be late.” One of the warriors spoke.

  Gorduro quickly looked at him. “This!” He exclaimed as he pointed to the warrior. “Tell me, Thuor, could ye follow their steps? These are the fastest dwarfs in all the East.”

  “There is a reason for us to be called RockFoot, master Gorduro.” Thuor replied.

  The prince looked at him serious for a moment, then opened a smile. “Fine, captain Thuor. Ye can join my warriors… But be warned that this will be a demanding task. These ones do not stop for resting, nor do they waver for any reason, if an enemy shows up, a fight will be set, ye can bet.”

  “That seems quite appropriate for me.” Thuor spoke.

  “Good.” Gorduro replied. “Take weapons and equipment if ye want so. I’m leaving now to deal with matters of importance.”

  Inside the locked room, Torag now had Olaf on his shoulders, and on this one’s shoulders was Montaron, trying to remove the bars from the ventilation duct. Rurur was near the door, carefully listening to check if there was someone coming.

  “Ye will tell me how, Montaron… How ye managed to win all the matches we played! Ye said ye never played this game before, how did you win against me like that?” Rurur asked.

  “Quiet!” Torag exclaimed. “Keep looking through the door.”

  “There is no one outside, no guard!” Rurur replied

  “Be quick!” Torag said as he trembled making effort to hold Olaf on his shoulders.

  Montaron loosed the grid. “It was half broken.” He said.

  “Can ye climb to the chimney?” Olaf asked, looking up.

  Now Montaron stood on Olaf’s shoulders, balancing himself as the other two dwarfs under him trembled, he entered the duct and fit in it. Olaf jumped from Torag’s back and dropped to the ground.

  “Keep going, and find where this ends.” Torag spoke as he looked up.

  Montaron moved inside the duct, forcing his torso and his legs against its walls, climbing up, at some point he found a horizontal path and disappeared from sight.

  “Hey… Why did we send him after all? Do ye think our little thief can find us a key?” Olaf asked.

  “We don’t even know where the duct leads to, let’s wait for him to come back.” Torag spoke.

  “Someone is coming!” Rurur spoke.

  “Quick! Cover the bags with the blanket!” Olaf spoke.

  They gathered all their bags in a corner and covered it as he said. The sound of the lock being opened was heard, the dwarfs spread around, trying to dissimulate. But through the door came no guard, as they were expecting. Instead came someone that surprised them all, a young dwarf woman, dressed in leather clothes, with earrings and a scarf on her head, a dwarf woman but still she had a strong face and body. In her hand was a strange weapon like a blunderbuss, an unknown weapon to all the dwarfs there; she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind, then looked at the dwarfs, when her eyes crosses Rurur’s ones, the other ones noticed a sudden fancy.

  “Ye are Thuor’s company.” She said.

  “Well…” Who wants to know?” Torag asked as he stepped ahead.

  “Princess Torra, King Drogo’s daughter, one of his heirs.” She replied.

  Torag frowned as he stepped back, motioning soothing.

  “Where is the fourth one?” Torra continued.

  “Herm… There.” Olaf said pointing to the covered bags. “He is too tired and decided to rest. Asked for no one to bother him.”

  Now the princess advanced to the bags and uncovered them, revealing the hoax. “So tired that he turned into bags! Ye are five, including your captain out there. Where is the other one?” She insisted.

  Olaf just pointed up to the duct.

  Torra came under it and looked up. “What is he doing there?”

  “Well… This arresting was unfair!” Torag exclaimed.

  “The duct is smooth like polished marble. Even a lizard would find difficulty in climbing inside there.” She said.

  “Yes this one is kind of like a gecko.” Olaf replied.

  “Whatever, this is not time to discuss, we need to leave.” The princess said turning back to the dwarfs.

  “Leave? Where to?” Torag asked.

  “To where answers could be... I think our CoalLock cousins could help somehow.” She said.

  “Are ye releasing us? Guess your brother changed his mind, better late than never.” Rurur said.

  “No he did not.” Torra spoke.

  “So is this an escape? Are ye inviting us to escape? Oh… That’s odd.” Olaf said.

  “We can’t, captain Thuor is not with us, Montaron too.” Rurur said.

  “Listen to me. My brother is not going to free ye soon. I’ve heard him talking to the guards. He plans to keep ye inside here for a long time.”

  “What happens?” Torag asked.

  “Something big is happening right now. Not here but beyond our borders. Guess ye know about the orc army that sprouted from nothing! These orcs are stupid savage beasts, how did they come to organize like that?” Torra asked.

  “We know about it.” Torag said. “But the army is gone, it reached the Thick Beard City.

  “It did?” Torra asked, surprised. “Well this is strange… Why they would cross all the way through the underground passage till there?”

  “Maybe it is because they knew that the Steel Fist Stronghold is well protected and they could not face your army.” Olaf said.

  “Anyway, as I said my brother considers ye now as prisoners, and I guess he is right now deciding to declare ye enemies or simple captives.” Torra said.

  “Enemies! Ha!” Torag exclaimed. “Enemies! How could one imagine we would end up being called enemies in the house of our own cousins? The little brat lied to us...”

  “Yes. I told ye, I heard him talking to the guards. Actually, I think that if he finds us here planning to escape, he will put us all in jail forever!” She spoke.

  “Us?” Olaf asked.

  Torra looked as though trying to find the best words to say. “Gorduro used to be smart, but now his pride grows strong, and he sees nothing but his own reflection in the mirror, besides all that is happening is making him somehow… Frightened… He has competence, but is still too young, and without my father’s advice, he is unable to take the reins of all this. He got paranoid, but I know that he is actually afraid, afraid of everyone, of losing the control.” Torra said.

  “How good it is to hear someone close to him like ye to come to such a conclusion.” Torag said.

  “Fine. I think we agreed in many points… Now, why are ye doing this?” Olaf asked.

  Torra came to the door and opened it a little, looking out to check if there was someone coming, then closed it again. “I don’t know if Gorduro told ye about my father.” She spoke.

  “Yes, he told us he is sick.” Torag said.

  “No sickness is this!” She said. “It happened some time ago, a strange visitor came to us. He came alone, and no one seemed to see, but I did… He was not an ordinary folk. I felt his malice, and it was as though a dark cloud of venom came after him… Venom! Yes! That was what it was. He came to my father, saying he was a visitor from distant lands, bringing a gift. King Drogo is greedy, like all the other dwarfs, but he is not the greediest one, nor is his greed bigger than his smartness, yet he was fascinated with the gift the stranger brought. A skull, made of gold! Adorned with many jewels! Might admit it was one of the most fascinating riches I have seen.”

  “That is getting familiar…” Olaf whispered.

  Torra continued her speech: “So my father accepte
d it, joyful, and the stranger just left! Like a shadow. Initially nothing happened, my father just got charmed by the jewel, and was always looking at it, fascinated. But after some days a bad weakness hit him, as if all of sudden a fever took his body, the once strong dwarf fell defenseless on his bed!”

  “Ye heard her… Seems she is talking about witchcraft…” Olaf said. “Tell me, milady, how was this stranger who came to your father?”

  “A freak, strange, evil, and so malicious that everyone gave him space to pass. I did not came to see his face, he used a robe and a hood, dirty dark clothes, somehow I felt as though no one dared to look into his eyes, not even my father, he actually had no chance to do it, as he got too fascinated with the jewel.” Torra said.

  “Maybe the same type of skull we saw before in the Ivory Tombs…” Torag spoke.

  “Ye saw one like it? What ye did with it?” Torra asked.

  “We broke it, in many pieces.” Torag replied.

  Torra seemed doubtful. “I don’t think the one here could be broken…” She said quietly.

  “Were is this jewel skull now?” Olaf asked.

  “Inside my father’s bedroom.” She replied

  “The Warlock… It’s him.” Torag said.

  “Gorduro said he knew about the Warlock, but he said nothing about him cursing the king.” Olaf argued.

  “Yes. That is because he does not want ye to know!” The princess continued.

  “So the gift was a hoax!” Torag said.

  “Yes…” Torra replied nodding, looking into space, as she contemplated it.

  “What happened then?” Olaf asked.

  “I was the only one to notice what was happening. My brother turned desperate! He is for sure a proud arrogant fool, but he loves my father. All he did was to get on the old dwarf’s bed foot and cry. So I tried to remove the skull, but it was not possible, it was covered by some strange force, I could not touch it.” Torra said.

  “Did ye try the conventional ways of cure?” Olaf asked.

  “All the healers came to my father, he drank many beverages and many things were made to reverse the situation, nothing worked.” She spoke.

  “Why ye came to us?” Torag asked.

  Torra suddenly turned downcast. “Somehow I felt as if… Like maybe ye could help me understand all this…” She said.

  “I’m sorry, milady, but we are not the salvation ye were waiting for. Here is just a bunch of ordinary dwarfs… Well some of us have interesting stories to tell, one could say, but we are mostly pierced boots here.” Torag argued.

  “But…” Torra muttered. “Ye must help me! Ye are the only ones! When I first heard ye arrived I knew I had to do something. Seems that everyone in this damn place is charmed by a witchcraft, they seem to not hear me! But ye came here, it must mean something!” Torra said.

  Torag replied, compliant: “Well milady… We…”

  “Ye are right.” Olaf interrupted. “We came on the trail of the Warlock, and we are going to where we can find answers about him”

  Now Torra looked at him with a renewed hope in her eyes. “That is what I’m talking about! Where are ye going?” She asked.

  “The Golden Peak, the white tower of the wise one, we believe that there is where lies the answers for all this.” Olaf replied.

  “Good!” Torra exclaimed. “I could talk to my cousin Uki, he will for sure help! So let’s make a deal, I will get ye out of this stronghold and all I ask in return is to travel with ye towards your destination, there maybe I could find a way to reverse this situation, and save my father!”

  “Seems reasonable…” Torag spoke. “But leaving without the captain still does not seem a wise decision.”

  “We can’t wait anymore! And Thuor is with Gorduro now, my brother will not allow ye to leave, this is the only chance.” Spoke the princess.

  “Captain Thuor is safe and well here inside your house anyway. But what about Montaron?” Olaf asked.

  One more time Torra looked up to the duct in the ceiling.

  “One who can climb there can go anywhere in this stronghold. The ducts are interconnected, he could go wherever he wants, it gives access to all rooms, halls and galleries, as well to the mountainside. He is actually freer than us now.” She said.

  “I don’t know…” Rurur whispered.

  “Enough of talking! There is no more time to waste! Are ye coming with me? What say ye?” She asked.

  All the dwarfs looked at each other, but no one knew what to say, then Olaf broke in: “Ye know what? Let’s get out of this place! We have a quest to complete!”

  “Excellent!” Torra exclaimed.

  “Now tell us, princess Torra. What is your plan?” He continued.

  “All right. There is a tunnel under this floor, it leads to outside the stronghold, all the way to the east wing, no one passes there. It’s the perfect escape way.” She replied.

  “Seems good, and how do we reach there?” Olaf asked.

  “We get to a trapdoor near the furnace, from there it is just about walking a lot till reaching the exit.” She replied.

  “And why is this place empty? How do ye know that there will not be anyone there to spot us?” Rurur asked.

  “Because it is not a duct made by us, it’s a natural tunnel, carved by the Vulcan itself.” Torra said.

  “Carved by… Ye mean it is a lava tunnel!” Torag exclaimed.

  “Yes but ye don’t need to worry!” Torra replied. “We live under this Vulcan since long ago, we know it! There are no lava streams running now, it is safe, I can assure ye.”

  “Safe like stirring a hive… Oh my, here we go…” Rurur spoke.

  “Come, it is either trust me or keep captive.” Torra said coming to the door.

  Now the dwarfs took their belongings from the ground. Rurur looked up to the duct in the ceiling a last time. “Hey… Pssst!” He hissed. “Montaron! If ye are hearing me, we are leaving! Find your way out of this place and go to the Golden Peak!”

  “He can’t hear ye.” Olaf spoke. “The little rat must be far away from here now, running like his weasel along these ducts.”

  Torra opened the door and peeked to the corridor, there was no one around. “Come!” She said getting out of the room.

  The corridor was dark, only lightened by a few torches, the light glistening against the red marble gave the ambience a strange unnatural look. The group formed a row and came walking, led by the princess, close to the wall.

  “How far is the furnace?” Torag asked.

  “Not far.” She replied. “We just must cross the Fire Hall, and then we reach it.” She now walked quickly but silently.

  They passed all the way through a large gallery, and no one was there, the place was deathly quiet.

  “It is the curfew…” Torra said. “Gorduro has set a time for everyone get inside their homes, he is getting mad.”

  “But the guards must be around.” Torag said.

  “Yes, they are…” She replied.

  Passing by tall pillars, the group crossed a large hall, a place known by Torra, but not by the other ones, and they all marveled while passing by it, so beautiful was the architecture around. Then they reached a huge metal door, not a crude gate but a door adorned by many runes and gems, golden like. Torra approached and pushed it slowly, it opened, but not without a loud creak of the hinges. “Damn!” She spoke quietly. “Someone must oil that door!”

  Only when they passed under the arch did they finally come to contemplate what was the real wonder of the Steel Fist house. The Hall of Fire, an immense hall with tall pillars reaching its ceiling, the red color of the marble was so strong there that it even made the dwarfs dizzy, and the light inside it did not come from torches, but from big holes in the floor from where came big flames. The entire place was filled by a vibrating light as the flames burned. Now the group was walking openly across the hall, not hiding anymore.

  “We could not hide inside here.” Torra spoke. “There are no shadows, the entire p
lace is lit by these flames.”

  “Incredible!” Olaf said.

  “Gorduro does not keep guards here…” She spoke.

  “Hey…” Rurur broke in. “What will happen when they come to find out we escaped?”

  “They will probably come after us, and if we get caught, ye can begin to think about a long career inside the Steel Fist cells.” The princess said.

  That was a sight that none of these dwarfs would come to forget, the beauty of the Fire Halls, but now they left by another door and entered a corridor again, far ahead they saw two figures coming walking.

  “Guards!” Torag whispered.

  “Follow me!” Torra said. She ran towards a door on the corridor and entered it, being followed by the others. “This is the furnace entrance, we did it!” She said as she locked the door.

  “Fine. Where is the trapdoor?” Torag asked.

  Now they walked among anvils and many pieces of hardware, metal tools, weapons and all types of crafts that dwarfs forged under the Vulcan.

  “There it is!” Said Torra pointing somewhere on the ground.

  They rushed towards it, but where interrupted by a voice coming from nearby. “There is the trapdoor! It is.” It sounded.

  Everyone turned to look. From among the hardware came a fat dwarf, dressed in a leather apron and holding a smith’s hammer rested on his shoulder; a long black braided hair loose on his back.

  “Tarugo!” Torra said. “I thought it was someone else!”

  “What if it was, princess Torra?” Said the dwarf coming closer.

  “Listen, my friend…” She spoke. “There is no time to explain now. We are leaving the stronghold.”

  “We? Oh I see, your friends.” Tarugo said looking at the group. “Does your brother know about this… Leaving?”

  “No, he does not. And we both know he would not allow us to leave this way.” She spoke.

  “Yes, he would not allow ye to leave, specially accompanied by these folks here. Were not them the ones who got jailed?” Tarugo asked.

  “I don’t think it worth to try hiding something from ye, my old friend. Yes, these are the ones Gorduro trapped. But ye must understand, we are leaving because I’m looking for a cure for my father’s sickness, our King!” She said.