by Krpoun, RW
“For those of you who have been to Gradrek Heleth this will be old news, but the rest of you should listen carefully. Gradrek Heleth is an abandoned Dwarven mining city, and most importantly, one which was not part of the network of tunnels and outposts that link and protect the bulk of Dwarven cities. Located on the west slopes of the Thunderpeak Mountains two week’s ride above the current Emperor’s Ward, the site was first established as a mining outpost about eight hundred years ago, in the year two hundred ninety of the Age of Hope, better known as the Second Age. Due to the richness of the veins, the outpost was established as a mining colony in four hundred ten, Second Age, and further expanded into an independent city in five hundred eight, Second Age. Although not integrated into the overall defense plans of the Dwarven cities due to positional complications which I won’t bore you with, Gradrek Heleth was a very valuable ore producer and a sizeable city by Dwarven standards. In eight hundred seventy, Second Age, the First North War began when the Empire launched an invasion into the Wastes to disrupt the preparations of the Dark Sun cult-nation, a conflict which lasted nine years and involved virtually every significant power in the region.”
“In the year eight hundred seventy-two of the Second Age, with the First North War fully developed, an army made up of the forces of the Green Flaming Orb Weehoc, or nation-tribe of Felher supported by Direthrell contingents from Fremlar assaulted Gradrek Heleth. The Felher and their Dark Threll allies stormed into the halls, having never encountered Dwarven defense works before, and in doing so took staggering losses. They pulled back out of the city and set up a siege which was possible because it was not part of the interlocking defenses. The Dark Threll quietly tired of the siege and returned to their lands in the north, but the Felher remained in place despite harassment by Dwarven forces coming over the mountains.”
“After two years of siege the Felher showed no signs of weakening in their determination, while the First North War dragged on, tying down the bulk of Dwarven combat forces. After reviewing the factors involved, especially the declining state of the veins in the area, the City leaders decided to evacuate and abandon Gradrek Heleth. A Dwarven army broke the siege and escorted the occupants of Gradrek Heleth and the bulk of their belongings back into the main clan holdings.”
“The ratmen did not enjoy the fruits of victory for very long, however: even as they moved into the abandoned halls, two united Keiba, or tribes of Cave Goblins assaulted the place and drove the Felher into the deepest recesses of the mines. It was only days after their victory before the Goblins fell into quarrelling over the spoils, leaving them vulnerable to an assault by the Direthrell from Fremlar. Before the Dark Elves could properly consolidate, a Dwarven raiding force used their knowledge of the hold to raid the place and inflict serious loss upon the Direthrell. So it has gone in the last two centuries: the hold is too large and complex in its layout for any non-Dwarven force to occupy and secure. Thus the city is a no-man’s-land, occupied in part by Felher, Cave Goblins, and other Void-followers, and frequently raided by every race and power bloc north of the Ward, as well as any treasure-seekers who can reach it.”
“The question, of course, is why everyone so interested in the place. Obviously, Gradrek Heleth commands a very strategic location, perched as it is above the Wastes. Besides being a perfect ready-made home for Goblins or Felher, it also would be an ideal base for the Dark Sun or the Direthrell to use for raids against both the Empire and the Dwarves. The White Necromancer and similar types have likewise expressed an interest in the place as a bastion within which they could safely practice their forbidden arts.”
“Additionally, the place is a treasure trove ready to be mined: when the city was abandoned the Dwarves could not haul off everything they owned. Naturally they took the bodies of the ancestors, their bullion, gemstones, and treasures of artwork, as well as some tools and the like. However, large stocks of tools, weapons, armor, and every sort of worked goods such as Dwarven clans are world-renown for were left behind, hidden as best they could. Large numbers of ingots of iron, steel, copper, and other metals were abandoned as too heavy to move; rumor abounds that gold and silver where likewise cached against future recovery.”
He had their full and undivided attention. “Additionally, the very fabric of the city has value: the tiles laid in hallways and homes, the metal fittings on doors and hatches, light fixtures, plumbing, furniture, on and on. Dwarven craftsmanship is famed throughout the lands, and these items were crafted for the creator’s own use so they will command a high price anywhere. And as a renewable aspect of the place, with so many armed and armored parties large and small a’raiding into the place there are regular drafts of valuable goods being brought in and lost with the owner’s lives.”
“A word, or rather some dozen words, on the construction of Dwarven cities. All Dwarven cities are constructed along the same lines for a wide variety of reasons from which I’ll spare you; think of Dwarven cities as being shaped like a slightly squared-off keg. At the very center of the hold will be the Ead Gluais, the Grand Rampway or great walkway; this is a central ramp-shaft that will run from the top of the city to near the very bottom through the center of the hold. It will be flanked in a triangular pattern by three Tagh Gluai, or lesser ramp-ways, each of which is roughly halfway between the Grand ramp-way and the outer edge of the city. These latter three are the primary cargo paths for the hold, although they are also used for pedestrian traffic. Needless to say, there are hundreds of gluaire or minor ramp-ways connecting individual levels.”
“Each city is made up of cidhe, or what outsiders mistakenly call levels or stories in the manner of Human buildings; too many non-Dwarves think a Dwarven city is made up of stacked living and business quarters like a pile of plates. A cidhe is more accurately termed a ‘belt’ or ‘section’, because by experience we know just how wide a city can be, so a Dwarven city grows up and down the vertical scale while maintaining a constant girth.”
“As opposed to the Dwarves themselves, who do the opposite,” Bridget observed, grinning.
“We prefer to consider it as achieving a suitably dignified posture,” Durek grinned back. “Each cidhe is simply a disk of living stone which will be honeycombed for living and working space; when the cidhe is full, the next one above or below is opened, and so forth. An individual cidhe might appear to be five or six levels or stories ‘high’, or as few as one, depending upon need. Cidhe are also how we Dwarves judge a city, rather than by number of occupants. Trellan, rattle that mug again and you’ll eat it. Cidhe are where the inhabitants live, store their goods, and do all labor save mining, smelting, and certain smithing.”
“Smelting and heavy smithing are done in an area known as a argalt, which will usually be attached to the city ‘barrel’ at the side or bottom. The argalt is simply a rough workplace that will be evacuated should the hold come under attack. Arian, wake Nuila up. There are two other parts of a Dwarven hold: the piseagan, or mining base, which will be attached to the city at some point. Lastly, and yet most dear to a Dwarf’s heart, are the bonaid, or mine shafts and galleries where ore is harvested.”
“The reason I have bored you with all of this is to impress a very important concept to you, which is the defenses of Dwarven cities. We Dwarves live underground, so our homes have no walls or fighting towers and our foes can attack through the very fabric of our city at any time. Thus the very nature of the city is its defense: a Dwarven hold is a confusing rat’s-nest of passageways, gluaire, apartment blocks, and the like, all laid out in what would seem to be a haphazard pattern. However, bring in any Dwarf who was raised in such a place, and within an hour or so he or she will orient themselves and be able to move with confidence.”
“That is very useful, but what about Dwarves who have gone over to the Void?” Arian asked as the Captain paused for a drink of ale. “Would they not offset the advantages of confusion? And have not the time-tested traditions been written down over the centuries?”
“Yes and
no. Fortren, what you call Black Dwarves, no longer maintain holds of their own, but live with other Void-worshippers; you see, you must have been raised in a Dwarven city to absorb the nuances, no amount of study or research would compensate. Oh, such a scholar would have a better time of it than one who was uninformed, but you must realize that we Dwarves think in terms of three dimensions, as do fish and birds, while flat-landers do not.”
“Which leads us to the second line of defense: not only can you easily become lost within a Dwarven hold while your foes dart around, but the entire city is honeycombed with defenses. These defensive belts, which we call spairn, are worked into the very fabric of the city and are all but invisible to the non-Dwarf. They are not the mighty works such as Humans build in their fortress, but rather cunning murder holes, concealed blockhouses where war engines and crossbows can fill a hallway with missiles, choke points where a half-dozen Dwarves can hold off a hundred without fear of being flanked, concealed portals which allows groups of raiders to harry the foe, and so on. The essence of Dwarven defense in the city is not great battles, but a steady series of ambushes, sniping, traps, and the like intended to wear down the enemy, demoralize his troops, and scatter his forces. If the invader is overbold, such as were the Felher-Darkthrell force that stormed Gradrek Heleth, they can find themselves getting split into smaller and smaller groups which are then systematically hunted down and butchered, all without ever finding the Dwarven noncombatants who are carefully shifted away from the fighting.”
“Now, the reason for this long and boring speech is to make you aware of two facts: the first is that it is very possible, even inevitable, for a non-Dwarf to become permanently lost within an abandoned hold such as Gradrek Heleth; you must be extremely careful never to become separated from the main body, as Kroh and I will always be able to find our way out.”
“The second factor is that both Goblins and Felher groups now live within sections of Gradrek Heleth, and they will have worked out an understanding of their portions of the hold and more importantly, parts of the spairn. Thus it is essential that you remain extremely alert and report anything suspicion to myself or Kroh at once. Everyone take a few minutes to stretch and then we’ll go over Gradrek Heleth proper and the objectives of this raid.”
When the last straggler had returned and reclaimed their seat, the Captain began again. “Gradrek Heleth is made up of five cidhe, which for our purposes we will call One to Five, One being at the top of the ‘barrel’ and Five at the bottom. The argalt is to the side, opposite Two, and the piseagan is opposite Three. The mines fan out from the piseagan and won’t be a factor to us.” The Captain had turned a table onto its side and was drawing on its top in chalk. “There. Now, there is one additional feature of Gradrek Heleth that bears explaining: here, under Five, is what we Dwarves call a raith or under-deeps, a long, interconnected series of tunnels, crevices, natural chambers, and the like. A raith is wild lands, much favored by Goblins and Felher and creatures who never go near the light of the sun. Whenever we find a raith near a city, we seal it off from us, and mount heavy defenses against an attack from that quarter.”
“Why do Dwarves dislike raiths?” Starr asked. “It would seem that they would offer space without digging.”
“Because they are chaotic, while the essence of Dwarven defense is that we know every square inch of our holds, every room and ramp being positioned just so; trying to build in a raith is maddening, and defies tradition.”
“In any case, we have dealings both in Gradrek Heleth and in the raith beneath. By dint of exploration and luck we Badgers know of a vent opening on the surface that leads to the outskirts of the argalt, which we used in our previous raids into the hold. We will enter Two from the argalt, and make our way through the city to Five, stopping along the way to get the tiles we owe Helvin and any other loot as seems appropriate. At Five, we will enter the raith for our repayment to Leofric Bluefire. It seems that Bluefire sent another bunch of his underlings into Gradrek Heleth to recover a set of written works, whether Dwarven property or ones lost by other raiders I do not know; in any case, the group tasked to recover them did so. It seems that this group knew of and used an entrance to the raith, and was on its way out when it encountered a group of Void-followers and a running fight ensued. Some portion of the group fought its way clear, but it lost the written works while crossing a Goblin bridge over a mud pit. Our task is to recover the books from the mud.”
“I take it the books were protected,” Arian observed.
“Yes, in a chest custom-built for the purpose; Bluefire assures us that they would be unharmed and gave us this prism: when you look through it, the chest’s position will be illuminated, provided you are within a hundred yards of it. We’ll take chains and grapnels along to fish it out.”
“Do you think it will be that easy?” Trellan sounded doubtful.
“A great deal will depend on how thick the mud is, of course. In a worst-case scenario, if we do not recover them this trip, at least we will know what we are up against, and we’ll get them on a second run. Are there any questions?” There were none. “Fine. We leave as soon as it is light enough to see, so look to your equipment and get as much sleep as you can. We’ve hard riding ahead of us.”
From the tent the Captain made his way to a stump some distance from the Badger’s camp to smoke his pipe and ponder the future. Squinting at the stars peeping through the rents in the layer of clouds overhead, the Dwarf stroked his beard and worked at the timing of it all.
This was the tenth day of Zahmteil, the ninth month in the Imperial calendar in the fifty-first year of the Age of Enlightenment, or Third Age; they would depart on the eleventh, and should reach the Ward on the thirteenth, paralleling the mountains while riding due north. Barring complications, they would swing east into the foothills on about the thirtieth (allowing two days to rest the mounts en route), and should be at the entrance sometime around the first of Hoffnungteil, the tenth month of the year. By that time frost should be on the ground every morning, and snow flurries were very possible. Figure ten days to two weeks in Gradrek Heleth, a day or two rest when back out, and they would not see Oramere until sometime in early Forsteil, the eleventh month, by which time winter would be firmly in place.
Cold weather was very dangerous to soldiers: it made wearing metal armor a constant frostbite risk, the heavy clothing made fighting difficult, the cold sapped endurance, they were easy to track in the snow, and fires were essential at night to keep the troops warm. Small surprise that the Imperial Legions, whose mantra was always to attack, stayed close to their bases and defensive works in the winter. For that very reason the Orcs, who were armor-poor, swarmed in winter time, the worse weather the better.
He had no choice, however, no choice at all: they had to undertake the raid this fall. The Eight and Luck would see them through, that and their own prowess. He hoped.
The smoothly rolling expanse of the Northern Wastes swept out in every direction like a brown-furred sea, spotted here and there with shoals of green brush and the odd clump of leafless trees, the misty wall of the Thunderpeak Mountains to the east the only break in the dun-colored landscape. Gabriella Zanetti studied the grassland with a practiced eye from her vantage point under a low shrub, one of the plant’s hard, waxy leaves dancing between the fingers of her right hand. The Ward was eight day’s ride south, not counting yesterday, which was spent resting, or today, which was likewise given to recovering their strength.
Eight hard days, with thirty miles covered before the evening camp, cold food at dawn and dusk, and the only hot meal at noon to reduce the chance of smoke drawing unwanted attention. Starr and Janna had hunted along the way, bagging several fat antelope and a goodly number from the endless supply of big rabbits to supplement their limited rations. It was hard travelling but safe: they left little sign of their passing, and covered ground fast enough to throw off anyone who might stumble upon what tracks they did leave.
Gabriella flipped the le
af to her other hand and set it to dancing between those fingers; she had volunteered when Durek had asked for someone to mount a foot patrol a mile or so out from the nearly-dry riverbed that served the Badgers as a rest camp, bored after a day and a half of inactivity. Starr and Trellan lay a short ways below her, partially hidden in the tall grass; the little Lanthrell had volunteered as well, eager to make her mark as a scout, and the ex-sailor had been sent along to keep him from causing any mischief. He was safe enough on this patrol: Kroh had vowed to tear Trellan’s arms off should he bother Starr, a statement which no one (especially Trellan) took as a figure of speech, while Gabriella and Trellan had long since worked out any problems between them, that is, she had offered to sever any portion of his body that he dared to touch her with. The dark knife-fighter scorned warriors as her bedmates, preferring men with soft hands, clerks or book-keepers who would buy her gifts and treat her as if she was one of the wonders of the world.
But it was not lovers which was foremost on her mind at the moment: she had spotted something to the north as they neared the mile limit to their patrol, a disturbance in the grass too regular to be made by wild animals. The little patrol had crept a hundred paces to the highest crest in the area and seen grass trampled in a path that suggested carts and moving feet, a trail that wound into a shallow streambed, back up the next gentle slope, and disappeared over the crest. What was annoying was that although the top of the following rise in the prairie was higher, and thus visible, it was apparent that the trail did not cross it. Leaving the other two scouts behind the crest, Gabriella played with her leaf and studied the markings in the grass below her, a thoughtful frown creasing the smooth walnut skin of her forehead. It was possible that whoever made the trail had followed the shallow fold in the ground to either the east or west instead of crossing the next crest, but she doubted it, which meant that the travelers could still be in that fold of ground. It was difficult to tell from a distance, but she would guess that the trail hadn’t been made more than a day or so before, if that long.
