by R. E. Fisher
Dropping his sword onto his bedroll to preclude startling the beast, Helor grabbed his bow and nocked an arrow, pulling it slowly back.
“What do we do?” Ollie asked quietly.
“Stay silent,” Jehosaa whispered.
Ollie saw that Helor was preparing to shoot at the unknown intruder and whispered back to him, “Really? That’s just going to piss it off.”
Helor paused at that thought and eased the arrow forward, relieving his draw. The beast continued clawing at the tree, and its growl slowly grew into a loud roar as it climbed the tree to get to the rations. They watched nervously as it managed to get about five feet up the trunk, the bark of the tree becoming shredded from its claws. Unable to dig its claws deeper into the tree itself or to gain a firm enough grip to continue its climb, the beast fell awkwardly from the tree. Landing hard, it ended up rolling into the brush surrounding the tree, hiding it from view.
“Shit!” the three of them heard coming from the shadows, followed by, “Son of a whore!” in an angry voice.
Ollie walked toward the bushes where the beast had disappeared, Helor and Jehosaa whispering loudly for him to stop. “You son of a bitch! Are you shitting me? Dumas, is that you? Really? You scared the hell out of us!” Ollie shouted toward the shadows.
They then heard laughter all around them. While Dumas had been distracting them, the rest of his party had managed to sneak up to the campsite and surround them without their knowledge.
The snoring stopped suddenly with the sound of the laughter. Winston sat up in his bedroll, asking loudly, “What’s going on? What did I miss? Who are these guys?” causing even more raucous laughter.
“It’s a good thing that neither of these men is a mage,” Ollie said to Dumas as he reentered the camp.
“It’s good to see you too!” Laz said, smiling as he walked up to his friend. “Don’t be mad; it was just a harmless prank.”
“Well, it scared the hell out of me,” Ollie said as he, too, began to grin. “Probably your idea, huh?”
Winston stood and wrapped his blanket over his shoulders, then walked over to what remained of the campfire and began adding wood. He looked at Ollie, asking, “Anyone want to tell the rest of us who these people are?”
After a brief explanation of what they had found out about his disappearance and their decision to set out after him, Dumas gave the four of them the somber news of what it was they were sentenced to retrieve and from where.
“So, no ordinary thief; wonderful!” Helor stated.
“How sure of this information are you?” Jehosaa asked, looking around.
“Pretty sure. We figured you would need the help,” Laz replied.
“Ahhh, the lure of treasure, and the dwarves here just volunteered?” Helor asked.
Sterling leaned forward a bit and asked, “Did ye forget the part about how the chest was a dwarvish chest?” He put his hand on his hammer. “If it’s dwarvish gold, we’ll be taking back what’s ours.”
Jehosaa, never one to back down from a challenge, grabbed his own weapon in response and began to stand. Helor grabbed his wrist and urged him to sit back down.
Not wanting things to escalate further, Dumas let out a roar, silencing the conversation.
“Let’s just figure that part out once we know more about what’s in the chest. We’re here to help ensure that none of the four of you get killed or locked up in a dungeon,” Dumas stated firmly as Jehosaa resumed sitting.
“So, what’s the plan?” Laz asked.
“We track it down and deal with the thief. It’s what we have to do. Anything less and none of those four will ever be able to return to Noli Deron, much less travel the kingdom without the threat of imprisonment,” Dumas replied.
“Does anyone know where this dragon actually is?” Helor asked, looking around.
“I have an idea. I’m not positive, but I have a good guess as to where we can start,” Darkbeard Threefingers offered.
Sterling and Tightbeard looked at him, a bit puzzled. They knew that his past was shadowed, but they were unsure of how much. Besides, whatever happened outside of the dwarvish kingdoms was his business alone.
“And where might that be?” Sterling asked.
“Didn’t we abandon Forge Outpost about sixty years ago because of the number of goblins and hobgoblins that attacked it? What if our dragon forced them out of their homes, driving them toward the steech? It’s not far from the valley, and we know that tunnels and passages run all though those mountains. Hell, we dug most of them.”
“Aye! We know which ones we collapsed, too,” Tightbeard added. “And since the attacks stopped shortly after they were collapsed, we should be able to figure where they were coming from.”
“Exactly. Anyone remember those passages, or do we go to Forge Outpost to look at those mining maps?” Sterling asked his men. He didn’t bother mentioning to them that Forge Outpost had been shut down for other reasons, but the goblin invasion was what everyone had been told.
A young dwarf raised his hand tentatively.
“How do you know them, Lightbeard?” Sterling asked.
“My da was the mapmaker for your da. He used to show me what he did all the time, for the ki…err…your da,” he said, correcting himself.
“Do you remember them well enough to risk leading us in?” Sterling asked seriously. “We can have no mistakes in this.”
“I used to redraw them for him. As he got older, his hands were shaky, and he din’t want the… your da to get bad maps, so I memorized them as I redrew them for him.”
Sterling looked to Dumas. “Does that work for you?” he asked.
“Yep. Never met a dwarf yet that didn’t have a firm grasp of any map they’ve seen,” Dumas answered.
They continued making their plans through the rest of the early morning. As the sun rose over the foothills, they broke camp and began making their way toward the area they hoped the dragon would be.
They rode for several days, climbing the winding mountain trails as far as they could. As the scrub and grass began to disappear, they opted to leave the horses behind. Sterling instructed Anvil and Twistbeard to stay and care for them. Though the dwarves were upset at being chosen to remain, they did so, not wishing to refuse their prince anything. The dwarves also knew that the beasts that lived in those mountains would find unguarded horses a savory meal indeed, and they would need those horses for the return trip to the capital. The dwarves who planned to continue the journey packed food, water, and a blanket to keep them warm. Each of them knew that it would only get colder the higher they climbed.
With no trails to follow, they began looking for cave openings to see if any of them led down into the mountain. Apart from entering one cave and angering a gryphon, which they managed to dispatch without any serious injuries, they found it a most unexciting trek. A few of the dwarves even complained about it being so. They finally found an old tunnel marker that only dwarves would recognize as such. Lightbeard read the marker and told them that they would be intersecting with the passage they had been looking for if they followed it down. They could go either to the outpost or east toward the Valley of the Dragons, a decision they left up to Sterling.
“Are you sure we are east of the collapse?” Sterling asked Lightbeard.
“Yes, sir,” he answered.
“Then we go east once we pick up the tunnel,” he told the group.
They entered the cave to prepare to make their way into the dark reaches that dwarves often called home. There were many who thought that dwarves could see in the dark, much as the elves could; but while they could see perfectly well, it wasn’t nearly as well as the elves. So upon searching for—and finding—the hidden cache of supplies that dwarves set up for explorations, they found the torches, pitch, and additional waterskins they would need. Lightbeard didn’t remember any water sources near where they were headed, and he informed Sterling and the group of that. He told them that their trip could take a few days and to be ready f
or anything, as the passages hadn’t been cleared since they had collapsed those tunnels closer to Forge Outpost.
While the rest of the group was preoccupied with securing their own packs and performing a quick inventory of their supplies, Laz and Ollie looked at one another, nervous. Laz opened his cloak, showing Ollie the 9mm pistol he carried in its shoulder rig. Ollie gave Laz a look as if to say, “What about me?”
Laz smiled and slipped his backpack off, pulling out the weapon Ollie had left in his chest at the barracks and handing it to him. Laz stood, and while putting his pack back on, he spread his arms as wide as he could as he pulled it over his shoulders, attempting to block the view of Ollie. Ollie dropped his own cloak and donned the pistol, then pulled his cloak back on, covering it. With both now feeling more secure, they walked toward Dumas, prepared to follow him into the darkness that waited for them.
Under the guidance of Lightbeard, they formed into a single line. Lightbeard would take the lead, followed by Dumas, then Sterling. It was decided to put Laz, Ollie and Winston in the middle of the remaining dwarves, as they had the least experience. Helor and Jehosaa brought up the rear.
Unfamiliar with it all, Ollie looked up and down the line of men and saw that they now totaled eighteen. There were twelve dwarves, three humans, a half-elf, the shelfling, and a bear. He hoped that would be enough to regain the chest for his own sake, but he began to have a sense of foreboding. Maybe it’s just the claustrophobia, he thought.
Lightbeard turned back to the group. Looking at Laz and Ollie, he said with a grin, “By the way, if something in these tunnels tries to bite or sting you, kill it before it can kill you.” He paused, winking at the two outworlders, then continued, “But if it does get you, just remember that the nearest cleric is more than a painful week away, if you’re able to make it that far.” The last comment was also intended for Laz and Ollie. He turned back toward the front, and the group began moving forward.
“So, what’s poisonous?” Ollie asked Laz in a whisper as they began walking.
“Eveeerrryyythhinnng!” Winston pointed out ominously.
Winston turned to the dwarf behind him and winked, grinning, waiting for the dwarf to return his grin. The dwarf happened to be Darkbeard, who simply gave him a menacing stare. Winston rushed forward past Laz and Ollie, placing them between him and the intimidating dwarf, the grin fading from his own face.
As they made their way down the passage, Laz wondered how the dwarves had managed to take goods through the narrow, irregular tunnels. He also thought that even though they were small compared to himself, they would have to carry their traded goods on their backs, and that couldn’t be profitable. The line of men stopped, interrupting his thoughts, and Lightbeard signaled for a dwarf by the name of Hearthammer to move forward. He, Lightbeard, and Sterling had a quiet discussion and Hearthammer slipped forward, leaving the group behind. Without being told, Laz and Ollie understood that he was being sent forward to scout the passages. While the group waited for his return, Sterling began making his way down the line of men.
“Muffle your armor and weapons, if you can,” he whispered as he moved down the line. He repeated it each time he got to men he thought hadn’t been able to hear him. He worked his way all the way back to Helor and Jehosaa, and then returned to the front of the column of men. As he did so, Laz and Ollie noticed that the dwarves around them had begun tearing their blankets into small strips and were tying down or muffling the pieces of their armor that rattled or clinked against other pieces, so they began doing the same. Their leather armor made little sound, but what it did sounded deafening within the silent, enclosed passageway. When they finished that, they sat on the cold stone floor. Some of the dwarves had even stretched out or had lain back onto the walls of the passage, resting.
“Kind of creepy, huh?” Ollie said.
“Yep, but kind of fun, too. I wonder if they would rather use my flashlight. I know I would!”
“Just hang on to it. We might need it later,” Ollie answered.
“Will do. I’m going through what Dumas taught us, and to be honest, I’m not remembering too much of it right now,” Laz said with a wry grin.
“Well, me neither,” Ollie smiled back. “Just make sure I’m out of the way before you start swinging with that thing,” he said, pointing to Laz’s sword.
“No promises,” he laughed.
They waited in silence for about another half hour before Hearthammer reentered the passageway and began whispering to Sterling and Lightbeard.
“Can you hear what they’re saying?” Ollie asked.
“No. They’ll tell us what we need to know, I guess,” Laz answered.
“He’s telling them that the stone door into the main tunnel was still sealed and that he didn’t see any signs of goblins or hobgoblins,” Winston whispered, and then added, “Now shut up; I can’t hear them over you.” Laz looked at Ollie, impressed with Winston’s sense of hearing.
Sterling signaled for them to get ready to begin their march again, and the few dwarves that were still awake began kicking those that had managed to get a few moments’ rest. They resumed their march; the glow of the torches in front of them begin to wink out of sight, one by one, as each of those ahead turned to their left. The glow of the torches lit up an area much larger than the small passage they had been traveling through, now visible through the once hidden doorway. As Laz stepped through, he realized that they had walked into a much larger tunnel that had been carved out of the stone. It was plain, but it had been carved with care and was large enough to accommodate a full-size wagon and team of horses. The walls of the tunnel contained a few decorative carvings, and there were wall sconces that appeared to have been maintained for lighting at regular intervals at some point in the past. He also noticed that the road was well worn; shallow ruts had begun to form from the wagon wheels prior to its disuse.
Laz then realized that they must have been traveling through an access tunnel from the cave, or it might have been a quick escape route in the event of an emergency, he thought.
“This is incredible,” he whispered to Ollie, who just nodded in agreement.
Winston turned around to look at the two of them and put a finger to his lips, signaling them to be quiet.
Their footsteps, though muffled, still echoed through the deathly silent corridors. Ollie thought, how loud must the wagons have been as they traveled through here?
Laz nudged him with his elbow and pointed, showing him that Hearthammer was moving further ahead of the light from the torches, his weapon at the ready. They both looked around, and not seeing any of the others with their weapons at the ready, they relaxed a bit. After a few hours of walking, they came to a part of the tunnel that had another passageway that veered off from the main tunnel, though one could hardly call it a lesser tunnel. It was carved out just as well and was just as large as the one they were traveling in. That tunnel was dark indeed, except for the fifteen or twenty feet that were illuminated from the glow surrounding their smoky torches as they passed by it. The group followed Hearthammer as he passed by the tunnel, each of them attempting to remain silent; Laz noticed that they each peered down the darkened tunnel as they walked past it, sensing something that made them nervous.
The silence was deafening for Ollie, causing him to become even more apprehensive about their trek. He would have preferred to be able to joke around with Laz to ease the tension that was building within him as they did in the cockpit of their Talon. He realized that his hand kept coming to rest on the mace that he carried, its oaken handle providing at least a little comfort for him. He noticed that they were all walking with their weapon-hands on the hilts of their weapons; even Winston, who wasn’t carrying a weapon that he could see, walked with his fists clenched.
Jeresette watched them from a distance, still in his incorporeal form and wondering where the damn trolls were. He’d forgotten that the hidden door he had passed through might not be found by the trolls. It was a single tunnel w
ith but one entrance, and he had shown them that one while in the air before he’d landed. How had they not been able to find such a large group? He moved forward while keeping them in sight. He watched as the half-elven and the barbarian slowed, the half-elven turning away from the party down a corridor. He wondered if he had somehow made the half-elf aware of his presence. He proceeded cautiously, attempting to ensure that the elf didn’t notice him further, if he had in fact done so. Jerresette followed the main group after the half-elf peeled away, keeping Laz within sight as much as possible as they progressed deeper.
As the last of the troupe walked past the passageway, Helor tapped Jehosaa and pointed to himself, then he pointed his first two fingers toward the ground and made his fingers walk in the air, and then pointed to the darkened passageway. Jehosaa smiled and nodded as his friend peeled away from the group to explore that tunnel alone. He knew that his friend needed no torch to do so, assured by past experience that his friend saw just as well in the dark as he did in daylight. His leather armor had been made with various shades of black as well as dark blues dyed into it, making him nearly invisible in the dim torchlight.
He realized there was a slight odor of rotten melons and dirt being carried in the air from the darkened corridor, one that he didn’t recognize. There was a possibility that the tunnel might have collapsed; if that had happened, they could be at risk of something following them and either attacking them from the rear or making their presence known to others ahead of them. He paused to allow the final torch to disappear down the hallway and allow his eyes to adjust to the total darkness. As his eyes began to shift, enabling him to see heat patterns of the surrounding tunnel—or lack of them, to be more exact—he began to make his way down the corridor.
