Visions of laying waste to the orc commander were at the forefront of his mind.
Elec opened his eyes and his vision began to clear. He stared up at the most intense set of brown eyes he had ever witnessed.
“I’ve managed to reset your shoulder,” Garius explained. “It will still be sore for a while. You will have to carry on in some pain.”
“Wha—what happened?!” Elec asked, not quite remembering what had occurred and feeling more than a bit groggy.
“You were separated from us! The very walls came to life and blocked our path to you!” Saeunn excitedly explained. “We tried to force the walls back into place, but they would not budge. Rose followed after you,” she continued and then stepped back, extended her hand, and helped Elec to his feet slowly.
“Where is she?” Elec asked, wincing in pain. His shoulder was indeed very sore, he confirmed.
“I am here,” called Rose from behind them, as she stared at the newly placed wall that proved an obstacle still. “I am trying to decipher a way to reverse the mechanism.”
“I noticed a lever on the side of the wall as I hung there,” Elec continued, testing the amount of movement in his arm, and grimacing in discomfort. “And Daegnar Giruth remains hanging in midair,” he mentioned, drawing a look of confusion from the barbarian. “My sword. I want my blade back,” he clarified as he reached into his bandolier and removed a flask, uncorked it and downed the contents. He immediately downed another elixir, and another, before replacing the empty flasks within the proper compartments.
“A little something to dull the pain?” Rose asked.
“I have an idea, assuming that it sounds reasonable,” Elec said, ignoring the question. “When I pulled the lever that was disguised as the dagger’s hilt, it armed the trap. I know now that I accidentally stepped on a pressure plate that appeared on the ground behind me when I backed away from the mechanism, which I believe activated the trap. That was what triggered the wall movement,” he explained in detail.
Rose in particular, Elec noted, looked at him with a bit more admiration, nodding in agreement with his assessment. “Sounds about right.”
“Trust me on this. I am quite sure that I can reverse this trap…and I want my blade back,” he reiterated. The three of them watched as Elec stood and spoke a low-sounding incoherent phrase, activating the enchantment in a particular ring, and then promptly disappeared.
Elec was falling again.
He had teleported directly beside where Daegnar Giruth still hung frozen in midair. He quickly managed to grab it by the hilt, holding on with both hands, only dropping a very short distance this time. His shoulder still ached, but it was certainly manageable, especially with the particular combination of elixirs coursing through his veins.
From this vantage point, he confirmed that there was a lever, and he confirmed that he had seen the spot correctly. It was an apparatus he’d happened to spot as he hung there with Rose in his arm before he had passed out.
He swung from the sword and launched himself, speaking the ancient elven word to release the sword from where it hung as he did. He landed softly upon the ledge and approached the lever protruding from the wall, sword in hand now. It seemed to Elec as an odd place to put a control panel. He stared closely at the wall, and then recognized something. It wasn’t in an odd position after all, he realized as he sheathed his magical blade.
Upon closer inspection, he could see that there were hand-holds in the wall where the average climber could actually make it back and forth to the switch. The impressions in the stone were not easily spotted and had been covered with dust and overgrown with vegetation, as clearly no one had used them for quite some time, Elec gathered.
“Ancient Ancestors,” Elec muttered under his breath, appreciating the design of it all. He admired the intricacy of the design and the effort taken to implement it. “Of course there had to be a way up and down!”
He reached over and pulled the lever, which held firm and did not move. He sat and hung there on the rod for a moment, disbelieving his bad luck, and then sifted through the bandolier that was strapped across his chest.
“This ought to do it,” he told himself after finding the right oil which he poured on the lever’s mechanism. He waited a few moments as it seeped deeply into the cracks and crevices.
He then pulled on the lever and it moved in a downward direction, quite easily now, causing the stonework to shift back. He quickly maneuvered the short distance to the hand-holds and used them to climb back up. The path led him straight up the wall and onto a ledge. As he reached the top, felt around and found the trap door that he knew was there, and then pushed it aside. The opposite side of it was the pressure plate upon which he’d stood earlier.
A strong, tattooed arm reached inside the opening and pulled him out. “
He lives!” exclaimed the barbarian woman as she lifted the elf out, hugging him tightly. Her grip was like that of a giant bear’s, thought Elec, who did not, and could not, fight it.
“Now…,”murmured Rose. She began resetting the lever on the wall to the disarmed position as the pressure plate fell back into place, disguised once more as stone-worked flooring. “Don’t touch that again,” she teased Elec as she released the lever.
“Oh, and while you were below, I managed to find a reset switch on the ground back there!” This drew a laugh from the elf as they moved past the trapped area and finally discovered a set of stairs leading down.
On they went.
Barguth has been gone for a while now, thought the orc commander. Still, the goblin was a capable creature and if there were actually blizzard-like conditions, he probably feared delivering the news to him. He frightened the little goblin, he knew. Commander Grubb could not help but grin at that thought as he looked up at Shaman Tukk who was gnawing at a large chunk of the stone ripper carcass. His oversized, antlered helm rested by his side, revealing his bald, red-hued, and leathery scalp.
It was fairly difficult to keep all of them fed as their rations were just about depleted. The meat from the stone ripper turned out to be a boon and was also considered a delicacy in most Subterrane cultures. And there was plenty to go around…for now.
“How long have we been here?” Grubb asked aloud. He personally detested having to use the Shaman’s inaccurate contraptions rather than the sun’s glow to tell the passing of time. The method that Tukk employed when they were forced indoors, such as now, measured time with an apparatus that dripped water into an empty urn.
“Over a week. Ten days plus,” Shaman Tukk answered finally.
Grubb passively thought about how proud not only Chieftain Kelgarek would be, but also the mighty commander of the Dark Legion when he returned with the apprentice priests.
That would be happening very soon, he reckoned, very soon indeed.
Thaurion managed to escape the cell and was investigating the area, looking for a way out. He had no real sense of direction and especially not in the darkness of the sparsely lit tunnels. Torches hung on the walls, but were few and far between. The shadows danced back and forth along the walls often enough, causing him to look around for signs of approach, only to find none forthcoming.
He happened to make a turn into a room with an open door that contained some crude tools lying about on shelves and tables. What exactly they were for, he had no idea. He took a few of them and threw them in a rucksack he had taken from one of the lifeless bodies in the cell. The tools, like the backpack, might prove useful here, he reasoned.
Then he hurried anxiously through another doorway and stopped just as quickly, remaining still. He’d thought he heard a noise coming from the room and waited a long while to make sure. He was using what little light that the torches afforded him and did not want to carry one on his person. After a moment, he heard nothing more and continued.
Thaurion slowly approached a door. He turned the handle and it opened, thankfully, without a noise. In he stepped and observed many shelving units holding tomes and
scrolls. The shelves were many and set up to give the room a maze-like quality. He walked down one aisle and pulled a book from the shelf.
He peered through the gap made by the vacant book and saw a blue orb glinting back in the torch light. It blinked. Thaurion gasped and let out a loud and involuntary yelp. He quickly turned to run and inadvertently smashed headlong into one of the shelving units, smacking his forehead hard against its solid framework. He fell to the ground as his head was suddenly spinning. His vision blurred as he tried to rise and his heart pounded in his chest.
Again he turned to run, disoriented from the massive blow he inflicted upon himself, as well as the alignment of the shelves, and managed to see the huge mass of a figure moving toward him. It’s hands were outstretched, reaching for him. He turned and ran again.
As he glanced over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of whatever it was that pursued him, he inadvertently ran headlong into the thick frame of the door he’d planned to use as his escape route.
Darkness quickly followed.
Chapter 26
Barguth regained consciousness, choking and spitting, as his mouth had filled with the mineral-rich water of the pool. He emerged from the water with a slow and steady groan. Rubbing his tender, green-skinned scalp he recognized the beginnings of a huge bump forming on his head. He shook the grogginess away and regained his wits and his helm.
He remembered now that the group of goblinoids he had accompanied to the surface had encountered a very formidable group of explorers. He also remembered being kicked in the head by an elf and hitting his head against the stone as he fell into the pool.
My worg! Barguth remembered suddenly, as he raced over to the beast that had suffered many wounds inflicted by that same elf. The goblin bent low and felt a slow heartbeat still. Somehow the beast was not dead, but it soon would be if he did not act fast!
He removed his pack, fished for and recovered a balm that Shaman Tukk had given him. He just hoped that the remedial qualities would do the trick.
He rubbed the balm on the worg in several places where there were wounds and they instantly began to seal before his very eyes. He watched as the wounds on the worg all but disappeared miraculously. Even the heavy wound beneath its jaw was sealed. Then, surprisingly, it began to stir.
The wounds had completely vanished by the time the worg got to its feet. Barguth quickly looked over the bodies of his fallen troops, checked them all, but realized they would need more than a healing balm to return them from the dead. He quickly began to amass whatever he could salvage from them, tossing useful items into his rucksack.
“I must follow up to see where the intruders have gone…I must warn Grubb!” Barguth said aloud to his worg as he absently rubbed the dire wolf’s head. The beast growled at him for touching it, as it had begun to tear at the flesh of a fallen orc. Barguth allowed it to feast for several moments believing that it needed the nourishment after its ordeal, before eventually slapping it on the snout. It growled and then whimpered in response, but obeyed its master.
Barguth surveyed the scene once more, and gave thought to how easily this most formidable group of trespassers had disposed of them.
“Many powerful ones they have, indeed,” Barguth admitted aloud. He scratched the black tuft on top of his head and thought again for a few moments, deciding if pursuing them was the best idea.
“We should follow,” Barguth finally decided as he climbed into the familiar saddle and guided his mount down the tunnels toward where the orcs were holed up.
Garius and his companions managed to discover the lowest level of this horrific temple finally. They had seen obvious signs of activity, but realized that they were no closer to finding the missing acolytes. They were also curious as they had not run into any resistance along the way yet.
Rose and Elec were scouting ahead for the group, searching the walls and ceilings, more cautious of traps now. The two of them had developed a rudimentary set of hand signals already that allowed them to communicate very brief instructions back and forth.
They entered what looked to be an old abandoned shrine to the demon lord of death, and quickly escaped it, wanting not to linger there for very long. The room certainly felt like it held a presence that unnerved them all.
Garius even went so far as to destroy the symbols and call upon blessings in an attempt to cleanse and purify it. In his mind, Thanatos was a base and foul creature that opposed everything he represented. It wanted nothing but to bask in the enjoyment of the pain and suffering associated with death. The Reaper, his deity, was the contrast to this—accepting those fallen spirits into his realm and giving lost souls a place in which to rest.
They continued down another passage and into several other empty rooms and alcoves that held useless and rotting items like old barrels, scattered clothing and animal skins.
There was another swinging blade trap that Rose discovered, almost wandering straight into its path before Elec spotted the mechanism that triggered it. The elf disarmed the device quite easily, this time with no problems. There was dried blood on the wall, too.
Rose allowed herself a quick visualization of what that blade could do if it were sprung, swinging left to right, over and over in succession, slicing its victims to pieces. She involuntarily shuddered under that imagery.
Another Bonemasher orc, hopefully, Rose thought, as she inspected the recently made stain on the wall. It was yet another sign that they were headed down a path that had been recently taken.
“Check in here,” Rose called back to Garius and Saeunn, who’d been struggling to keep up with them as the pair of rogues developed a rhythm.
Garius opened a door and saw a collection of playing cards, sets of dice and knucklebones, a smashed barrel of ale with most of its contents spilled all over the ground, and several broken tables.
“A fire was doused here not long ago,” Elec whispered to Rose after she caught up with him, pointing to a cooking pot in an alcove. Her gray eyes darted about as if she expected something or someone to jump out at them, but nothing did. She nodded and they continued. He was about to leave when Saeunn pointed at something along the wall in another alcove.
“The liquid runs there and begins to puddle,” she observed.
“Aye,” Elec nodded and called Rose back into the room. He simply nodded to the alcove and she looked at him and signaled her agreement.
Rose strode over and examined the area. It seemed there was a hidden door that was forced back into the space by something, or someone, with great physical strength. She could tell that it had recently been forced back by someone who did not understand the apparatus on which it glided. The mechanism was all but destroyed.
“Saeunn, you might be able to help here,” Rose mentioned moving out of the way. “It is jammed.”
Saeunn moved to her aid. She gripped the stone as best she could and heaved. Her muscles corded and several veins thickened and strained, looking like they could burst from her skin at any moment. Garius stepped forth and chanted a prayer, invoking divine strength be gifted to Saeunn as she struggled against the stone.
She heaved and tugged many times over—arms and shoulders straining against the unmoving stone, until suddenly it popped open. A pungently foul smell emitted from the space beyond. Saeunn gagged and removed the sash from her head, covering her nose with it, inadvertently spitting up on it. She then tossed the sash away and moved back a few steps, her hair falling loosely down her back now.
Garius went past her and seemed oblivious to the horrible odor. As he entered, he spoke a phrase and flooded the room with the magical light that emanated from his breastplate as it shone more brightly under his latest command. He swiftly returned to the others and removed his helmet.
“There are several dead goblinoids and at least four, recently slain ghouls, according to what I could gather,” Garius explained. “I did not examine them closely, but there was certainly a struggle there…and not all that long ago. The blood and gore are fresh.”
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“No sign of our acolytes, I hope,” Rose asked.
Garius shook his head ever so slightly. “Let us be gone from this disgraceful sight and its accompanying odor,” he suggested as they all moved quickly out of the space, following after the dark-haired elf and Rose, and shutting the door firmly behind them.
Ganthorpe opened the door to the hall of the High Council and entered amidst cheers and greetings from fellow council members, as well as the servants who knew him. He continued right up the stairwell, waving off any who wanted to engage him in conversation, and headed directly into the meeting room where Tiyarnon and Nimaira both sat. They both looked up at him and regarded him with a smile.
“A long journey,” Tiyarnon stated to the blue-eyed man. “Good to have you back.”
“Many thanks, Tiyarnon,” Ganthorpe answered, removing an overcoat and placing it on the chair next to him as he sat adjacent to them both.
“How was your trip?” Nimaira asked. The half-elf began running a hand through her silvery hair as she waited for his response.
“It was…interesting,” Ganthorpe stated. “But, we have some things of concern to discuss.”
“How interesting exactly?” Tiyarnon pressed, though Ganthorpe could not tell if he was worried about how their relations with Norgeld were fairing or something else entirely.
“Well, Queen Lynessa appeared to be in a state of panic, unlike at all of our prior meetings, and seemed rather out of character,” he explained. “She was not her usual self.”
“Understandably, with her daughter Amara gone missing,” Nimaira chimed in.
“Go on,” Tiyarnon impatiently asked.
“She thinks to hold the region responsible if we do not lend her troops to begin searching in earnest,” he described as he rubbed his tired eyes.
“She is expecting much,” Nimaira admitted, turning a concerned pair of blue eyes toward Tiyarnon. “We have The Days of Holy Enlightenment festival in town, still at its peak of recognition. Also, the portion of the Watch that we can spare is already being prepared to investigate the happenings near the ruins of Chansuk.” Nimaira was becoming flustered as she spoke. “Has the queen lost all semblance of sense and manners? We can deal with situations only in the order in which they are presented to us!”
The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga) Page 44