by RW Krpoun
“Yeah, I bought them with group funds before we left.”
“Good. Let me get back to work. Jeff, see if you can get us a hot breakfast before we head out. I’m guessing we will have a tough day ahead of us.”
“I’m going to get Berriman to make us some rings so we can rappel in,” Jeff nodded. “D rings would be great, but I guess you would need a Dwarf for that sort of work.”
“Good thinking. Everybody wrack your brains-game knowledge, Uncle Sam instruction, Iraq experiences, any book or show. We are going to need every possible advantage we can get. We’re four guys and it could be like the Mines of Moria down there, in terms of Goblins.’
“It could, but I’m thinking not,” Jeff shook his head. “They would take this place out if they had real numbers, not skulk about grabbing girls.”
“A hopeful thought. But let’s plan for the worst.”
Breakfast was rye bread, pork chops sizzling out of the pan, fried dumplings, and ale. The four ate heartily, fully confident that the coming hours would demand fuel. The sun was just cresting the horizon as Cribbs led them out the gate.
“This is awesome. Thirteenth Warrior stuff!” Derek exclaimed.
“I hope not. Heavy cast attrition in that one,” Shad observed. “Good movie, though.”
“At least this time we know we’re going into a fight,” Fred observed. “The last two came at us out of nowhere.”
“Third time’s the charm,” Jeff said lightly.
The airshaft opening was a natural fissure in the center of a thicket, and whoever had built the complex had been careful not to make any changes to the surface. Ten feet in the fissure became a chimney-like passage carved out the living rock, angled slightly to the north. Jeff slipped in with a safety line and his class skills; while they waited Shad strapped his scabbarded sword to his pack. Once inside the weapon was going to stay in hand and he didn’t want the empty scabbard catching on anything.
Fred lit three torches and passed them out; unlike a lantern, a torch could be dropped at the onset of a light and still provide light. The big barbarian went next when Jeff signaled, followed by Shad and then Derek.
There were smaller shafts running horizontally off the air shaft, likely bored by magical means. The grates that had secured them, like those that had protected the airshaft itself, were just smears of green corrosion on the stone.
The Goblins had set up a guard point at the base of the air shaft; one guard had taken a crossbow bolt through his ear, the other had been cut down as he stood up to see what the noise was.
“Nice work,” Shad observed. “You did that in the dark?”
“Not full dark,” Jeff pointed out the small lantern the Goblins had burning in a corner, its output dwarfed by the torches. “They can’t see in the dark, they just need less light than we do. No loot to speak of; are we taking ears?”
“I dunno. What do you think?” Shad unslung his pack, drew his sword, and put his pack back on. Adjusting the hang of his round shield on its strap, he picked up his torch.
“I say yes,” Derek had his bow strung and was nocking an arrow.
“You are always greedy,” Shad observed. “Won’t the arrow fall off when you pick up your torch?”
“No, that’s why the bow cost so much-it has an arrow shelf, see? I put a finger over the shaft to put a little back pressure against the string. I’m going to save my spells.”
“Clever.”
“Its several days to the Fist. They’ll get nasty,” Fred pointed out. “The ears.”
“Good point. Let’s skip it.” Shad leaned against the stone next to the opening someone had smashed through the wall. Fred was squatting in the opening. “See anything?”
“No. Corridor goes left and right, out of sight.”
Shad oriented himself. “Left is towards the entrance, so I think we should go right.”
“Yeah,” Fred jerked his head upward. “You see where the grates were?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Green stains. They were bronze, not iron.”
“Damn-this place must be old,” Derek shook his head in wonder.
“OK, Jeff, you ready?”
The Night-grifter lifted the goblin lantern by its ring. “Yeah, give me a couple minutes head start.”
Moving down a hallway cut through solid stone and lit only by torchlight was not easy on the nerves, Shad discovered. For years he had whiled away idle hours talking about this sort of undertaking or seeing a cartoonish version produced by a gaming platform, but neither activity bore any relationship to the actual experience.
The air hung close, thick with dust and the burning-sap stink of the torches while the faded band of decorations carved along the wall to either side just served to reinforce the alien setting. The light of the torches did not seem to reach any distance at all, and the prospect of imminent and deadly combat hung upon him like a shroud.
He, like the rest of the Talons, had fought house-to-house in Iraq, and even room-to-room, but it was no preparation for this experience. Here there was no feeling of being part of a vast war machine, no knowledge that no matter how bad it got, so long as they could hold out help would come, bringing with it overwhelming force. In this place there were just two friends, three flickering torches, and the weight of the sword in his hand. He had never felt so alone in his life.
What they were doing was insane, but pride kept him moving forward, pride in the fact that he was not the sort of man who would abandon two young women to a terrible fate. The same pride that had held him in formation on battalion runs and had kept him moving forward when they were fighting house-to-house in Iraq.
Suddenly Jeff was crouched at the edge of their light motioning them forward.
“Intersection up ahead,” the Night-grifter whispered. “Left is a cistern, right is a cooking area and food storage. I killed a Goblin on patrol.”
“Racking up the xp,” Derek’s voice was high and tight, and Shad knew he wasn’t the only one facing new stressors.
“Yeah.” The shop-teacher kept his voice low. “Give me a couple minutes and then stay with this corridor. I guess we must be close to their quarters or barracks.”
Jeff turned out to be wrong in the literal sense. “Magic?” Fred asked Derek.
“Yeah. Kind of a reverse engineering thing. It would have to be awfully powerful to breach the defense wards and still do the job.”
The four were examining the corridor, or rather, the corridor’s end, the terminus being an abrupt and uneven wall of stone that was lighter in color and of a coarser texture.
“Looks like when you crack one of those cardboard tubes of dough, you know, ready-made biscuits or pizza crust,” Jeff observed. “So, what, they teleported liquid stone into the place?”
“Not exactly. It’s complicated, and not my line at all. That’s some very powerful specialized mojo,” Derek rubbed the outcropping trailing away onto the floor. “It happened a long time ago, though. No after-residue of magic left at all.”
“All right, back to the secondary passages at the last intersection,” Jeff checked his crossbow. “Which way?”
“Take your best guess,” Shad shrugged. “Derek, can you get us back out if need be?”
“Yeah. It’s not that complicated so far. I’m taking notes every time we stop.”
“Good. We might need that. In fact, I hope we need it.”
The first side-trip off the last corridor led into a ghastly pantry and well-used kitchen. Doubling back, they eased down the other option. Before long they encountered a freshly killed goblin, and a hundred feet further on, Jeff.
“I’m pretty sure the barracks are up ahead,” he whispered.
“Well, they’re four less, plus what they have up at the main opening,” Shad kept his voice level with some effort. “We can ditch the torches and try for surprise, or we can just rush in. Votes?”
“Either way sucks. Let’s just rush ‘em,” Derek was surprisingly proficient at tactics and was also
surprisingly aggressive. The two traits warred within him.
“Rush ‘em,” Fred agreed.
“Might as well,” Jeff sighed.
“OK, we go for a three man-front, left to right me, Fred, Jeff. Derek, you hang back and provide fire support.” Shad paused, wanting to say something about how he felt about the three of them, what they had accomplished together, but he didn’t have the words. “It’s likely to be hot and heavy-from as cramped as this place is you can bet the bulk of their force is in there. Make your peace with the Lord.”
“See you guys on the other side,” Derek bobbed his torch in salute.
They tried to move as quietly as possible, but the light of the torches preceded them and before they had gone very far they heard Goblins shrieking up ahead.
Shad was the second through the door; he had switched the torch to his right hand, and as soon as Fred was clear he hurled the brand at a pile of straw across the room.
The chamber they arrived in had been a complex or suite of several smaller rooms in the past, but the Goblins had battered down the walls and then stacked the broken stone for seats and tables. It was large, perhaps eighty feet by fifty, foul-smelling from its inhabitants and smoky from a half-dozen Goblin lanterns. Besides the rock-piles and some log sections the only furnishings were piles of straw used as bedding, three of which were ablaze from hurled torches.
And Goblins. Shad had an impression of countless bodies as he shifted his sword back to his right and swung his shield into place. Fortunately they were unarmored Goblins who had been lounging around or sleeping moments before, not an organized war band, but that was small comfort.
Fred was roaring as he went into bear mode and his axe was slinging Goblin blood with every swing, but Shad remained focused on his own battle. The longer sword and bigger shield were a huge improvement, and the leather shirt was a comfort, but the Goblins were piling on with wild abandon. He split a skull with an overhand swing, and gagged at the brief glimpse of the steel shearing the skull apart and spilling brains. Blows rained against his shield and something drew a line of fire across his calf, but he kept fighting, keenly aware that only one side would survive this encounter. Goblins were falling with arrow wounds so he knew Derek was doing his best.
The Goblins crashed against the three and forced them back step-by-step, leaving behind a litter of corpses and dying. As the trio reached the doorway Fred dug in his heels and they made a stand, Shad and Jeff securing the barbarian’s sides. The fighting raged hot and heavy for forty heartbeats, and then the Goblins began to give ground, those who still lived.
The little humanoids fell back fighting, but slowly the Talons regained their deepest penetration of the chamber and then a few steps beyond. A sudden roar like a bulldozer transmission shifting from third to reverse caused the Goblins to break off and withdraw.
Across the chamber the four saw a hulking fur-clad figure fully seven feet tall wearing armor fashioned from shields and bits of metal held together by lengths of light chain and leather straps. Its greenish eyes blazed as it roared, displaying a fang-lined maw of impressive proportions.
“Shit, that’s a bugbear!” Jeff yelled, bending to rest his hands on his knees as he gasped for air.
“Great.” Shad leaned his sword against the wall and fumbled out a charm with fingers that felt as thick as sausages, thankful for his new belt. Grabbing Fred’s arm he concentrated and saw the nasty rent on the big man’s forearm close. “Jeff, you need Healing?”
“It can wait.”
So could the puncture on his own leg, Shad decided. A quick glance confirmed that Derek was unhurt, so he took up his sword and tried to get his breathing under control.
The bugbear, brandishing a large and crude spear, shepherded his remaining Goblins into a semblance of order while one beat a brass kettle with a hammer, producing an ear-pounding racket.
For a long instant the two groups stared at each other across the expanse of the chamber as shadows danced in the light of the burning straw, the Goblins wheezing and defiant, the bugbear, wedge-shaped ears laid flat against its oddly-shaped skull, thumping its chest.
“Here they come,” Derek warned, and a split-second later a bolt of energy burned through the advancing bugbear’s armor as the enemy surged forward, howling.
“Yeah,” Fred hurled a throwing axe at the hulking creature and reached for another as Jeff dropped a Goblin with a head shot and discarded his pistol crossbow.
Ignoring Derek’s silver-blue bolts and Fred’s throwing axes the bugbear led the charge, aiming straight for Fred. The two met with a resounding crash and fought like titans as the Goblins tried again to flank and overwhelm the big barbarian; Shad and Jeff fought desperately to contain them while Derek expended his powers and returned to arrow fire.
The fight became a blur of half-remembered images as Shad hacked, blocked, and feinted; at one point he realized Derek was fighting to his left with buckler and short sword. It was of much less importance than the struggle to get air into his lungs and keep his shield between himself and the incoming blows as his arms grew heavy and his chest burned.
Then the bugbear was reeling back and pawing wildly at Fred’s axe, which was embedded in its skull, and a wail of despair rose from the Goblins. They broke and ran as the huge figure collapsed, and it was the bloody work of several minutes to corner them and finish the business.
“Jeff, finish the wounded,” Shad managed between wheezing for breath as Fred cut down the last able-bodied Goblin. “Guys, the kettle was an alarm. More are coming.” Using two charms, he Healed the big barbarian while Fred struggled to free his axe from his last kill. One charm went to Jeff and another for himself, while Derek had suffered no more than scratches and a nasty bruise.
“I’m out of arrows,” Derek gasped, red-faced and sweating rivers.
“Get ‘em back,” Shad slumped onto an upright section of tree trunk and methodically ran the point of his sword into every Goblin within reach.
Although as winded as any, Fred methodically hacked the head from the bugbear and set it atop a short log in the hallway twenty feet from the door, with three Goblin lanterns around it.
“Good idea,” Shad nodded as the barbarian slid down the wall to a sitting position. Groaning, the Jinxman struggled to his feet and helped Jeff finish ensuring that none of the Goblins were still alive.
Derek lit three fresh torches from the straw fires and then smothered the blazes with blankets from the Goblin’s bedding.
After a few minutes Jeff roved around the room looking for loot, and Shad found a barrel of fairly clean water and managed to scrub most of the blood from his person and weapons. Fred recovered his throwing axes and kept watch on the hallway.
Shad was just tucking his pant leg back into his boot when the barbarian whistled. Sighing, he took up his sword and shield and limped to the others at the entrance to the room.
“How many arrows do you have?” he asked Derek.
“Six good enough to use. I’m going to take fletching next level, and load Ula with more arrows.”
“Lessons learned.”
The battered four waited, leaning out for quick glances down the hall where dark silhouettes moved and muttered. “How many?” Shard whispered.
Fred shrugged. “Eight? Maybe more or less. Guards from the entrance, I figure.”
“Snipe at ‘em?” Derek asked.
“No, wait and see if Fred’s idea works.”
And it did. Carrying away the lanterns and their leaders’ head, the Goblins moved off down the corridor.
“Freakin’ brilliant,” Jeff slapped Fred on the arm. “We know who is leveling up first this time.”
Shad took a pull on the canteen Derek passed him and then handed it to Fred. “OK, we have a door over there. Jeff, you done looting?”
“Not quite.”
“OK. Derek, you get all your arrows?”
“No.”
“OK, Fred and I will stand watch, you guys look to that. Take
your time, I need to catch my breath and get some blood flow going.”
“About a Mark’s worth of small change and some jewelry of no great value,” Jeff reported twenty minutes later.
“You could starve hunting Goblins,” Fred observed.
“Let’s get through that door,” Derek grinned, eyes gleaming.
“Jeff, you’re up,” Shad sighed as he climbed to his feet. “You know, we should decline any reward and just ask to stay a few days, because I’m gonna be crippled tomorrow. I don’t know what caught me in the ribs, but I’m hurting.”
“Yeah,” Fred nodded. “I can’t hardly lift my left arm.”
The Night-grifter studied the crude lock with exaggerated care, then produced the key and opened it. “Found a couple keys on the bugbear.”
The light of their torches illuminated a small room whose original purpose was uncertain. A spike bearing an iron ring had been crudely hammered into the stone, the surrounding areas showing the marks of several missed swings of the hammer, and a length of rusty chain was run through it. The chains ran beneath a ragged, filthy quilt which lay atop a pile of straw. A candle guttering in its own puddled substance and a sour latrine bucket completed the furnishing in that corner.
In the opposite corner squatted a container made from what looked like an ordinary shipping crate inexpertly reinforced by rusting iron bands and extra boards, a large lock wedged into the door-latch that kept it closed.
“Rosen? Wenna?” Jeff stepped carefully towards the straw pile. “Don’t be afraid.” He paused for a moment, chest swelling a bit with pride. “We’re here to rescue you.”
Chapter Six
An explosion of shouts, shrieks, and screams erupted in ever-increasing quantity as the six battered figures came into view of the gate and the villagers caught sight of them. Within moments the entire population of Wyrm had surrounded the two girls, joy and tears in equal measure on all sides.
