by Logan Petty
Rage spiked in Sawain as his fist wrapped around Banthan’s collar. “Banthan, I’m warning you—”
“What are you going to do? Kill me? Go on then, if you do half as good a job you pulled on my sister, I should be fine!”
“Hey!” Loraleth shouted. “Leave me out of your stupid fight!”
“You’ve never trusted me! Ever since you arrived in Alfhaven with that stupid smug face of yours, you’ve always tried to step over me!” Banthan shouted at Sawain. “Well, I’m a member of this team too! You should trust me like you trust the others!”
“Trust? I don’t!” Sawain shouted. “How can I when you’re always going behind my back? Always challenging me! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the reason the enemy has known our every move for the past two months!”
“Sawain!” Loraleth gasped.
Banthan stared at his leader in disbelief. “Are you accusing me of treason?”
Sawain shook Banthan. “What did he promise you? What lie did you sell your soul to Tharixos for?”
Timbrell inched toward the two combatants with his paws to his mouth. “Wh-what are ye saying, lad? No one here would betray us to that monster.”
“You’d be wrong.” Sawain said, still locked onto Banthan. “I should’ve known it was you all along. I’ll string you up from the top of the gulch for this! Because of you, our friends are dying, and you’d use them as bait to lure me into a trap! Is it worth it, Banthan? Sacrificing everyone for your own selfish gain? What, did he promise you salvation too? Look around at what his brand of salvation brings!”
While Sawain ranted, Banthan managed to slip a dagger from his belt. He plunged it into Sawain’s hand. The Swerdbrekker roared and let his grasp loosen. The smaller elf hit the ground, panting for air. He scurried from Sawain’s reach before he could recover, and then half ran, half tumbled down the hillside. Sawain growled menacingly as he shot a glance at Loraleth.
“There’s your turn-coat. Do your job and capture him.”
She shook her head slowly at Sawain. “I see you still haven’t learned the art of subtlety.”
“You brought this madness onto us. You’re the one who told me of a traitor in our midst in the first place! I did my job. I found him. Now it’s your turn, Chandler.”
Loraleth threw her cloak back on and shot him a venomous glare before she stomped off after Banthan.
Magina sidled up to Sawain. “Well, you certainly know how to inspire your troops, Swerdbrekker.”
He glared at her. “Magina, tell me you have some good news for once.”
She shrugged. “If you look at it under a certain light, I suppose. I know where Aerabis is taking your friends.”
“Best news I’ve heard all day,” Sawain sighed.
“You didn’t let me finish,” the dwarfess huffed. “Like a wounded dog, Aerabis is likely to take them back to his master as a bartering token for more forces and more power.”
“The one he calls Malsivith?”
Magina nodded.
Sawain rubbed his temples. “What can you tell me about him?”
“Well,” she began as she lumbered away, expecting him to follow. “They call him by many names and none of them are pleasant. Father of Vampyr, Collector of Souls, Army Flayer. He’s a bad guy, Sawain, and one to be taken seriously.”
“Just another one of Tharixos’ pawns. I’ve dealt with his kind before,” Sawain snorted as he followed Magina. The others fell in formation, with Eldingbál still hauling Kyra.
“I wouldn’t be so sure of myself if I were you,” Magina continued. “This guy is said to be ancient. Far older than the Grey King. He doesn’t rack up a slew of sinister nicknames in the course of one or two wars, you know.”
“Okay, so he’s old. Where can I find him?”
Magina sighed, “Well, remember when we first met, and you agreed to help me if I helped you?”
“I’d say you’re still fulfilling your side of that deal,” Sawain retorted.
“Well, looks like I can’t help you without you helping me at the same time. See, Malsivith is my problem. When the war started, he and his army of pet ghosts moved into Caer Teallagh without an invitation and started killing folks left and right. Even the Segrammir…. Now he and his entourage are stinking up the place and forcing my people to mine ore and make weapons for the Grey King.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t one of Tharixos’ pawns?”
“Hah, Malsivith is so much more. He just throws the Grey King some nominal tribute to keep him satisfied. No, that fiend is planning something entirely unrelated. If he is allowed to keep residence in Caer Teallagh, he’s sure to unleash devastation unlike anything the Grey King has wrought thus far.”
Sawain’s pace slowed. “I’m listening.”
Magina hustled up a steep ridgeline in her noisy armor. “So here’s the new deal. You help me free my people and drive out Malsivith, and I’ll help you save your friends along the way.”
Sawain struggled to keep up with the dwarf as the terrain inclined. “Caer Teallagh is a dwarven stronghold built inside a mountain. How exactly do you plan on driving him out with a handful of injured warriors?”
Magina glanced back at Sawain, shooting him a sly grin. “What, you think I’m allied with the Uuthri clan for their superior conversation skills? Goblins are infamously fast and quiet tunnelers. For years, they’ve dug tunnels throughout their lair that intersect with mineshafts and other less frequented areas of Caer Teallagh. They used to raid us a lot in the days before the peace between our people. Now, in order to save my kin, we are going to break the treaty.”
Sawain nodded slowly. “So we use these old tunnels to slip into the Hold. Once there, what’s your plan?”
She chuckled as she reached a large stone dome easily double the size of Dawnstar Manor. They approached an iron door built into the rock.
“Revolution.”
“Ahh,” Timbrell piped in, “so you’re just going to wing it, then.”
“No,” Magina reprimanded as she produced a key and unlocked the large iron door, “We’re going to wing it. But think of it as organized chaos. We slip in, start freeing the people Malsivith enslaved, starting with soldiers and the few heroes he hasn’t added to his collection yet, if any are left. Then let nature take over and watch the dwarves tear Malsivith’s forces apart. While we help, of course.”
She threw open the door and strode inside. Sawain and the others followed, amazed by the sight they beheld. Magina lit a series of torches as she went to the far end. The reddish light fell upon an armory of massive proportions. Rows of racks on either side of them held hundreds of weapons of various makes and conditions. Swords, axes, bows, and some Sawain did not recognize danced in the firelight. They passed suits of armor, shields, and adventuring gear on their way to the back, enough to equip an army. Sawain surmised that the goblins did not have a chance to reach this place during the attack, or it would be much emptier. He took note of a row of the strange metal suits similar to the one Magina piloted.
“Where did the Uuthri get all this gear?”
“Years of raiding and hoarding.” Magina said as she halted and unstrapped herself from her suit. She noticed Sawain’s admiration of the machine and patted it fondly.
“This here is Maggy-II, a specially retrofitted Dwarven Tunneler. We use these things to drill new shafts quickly and efficiently. I’ve modified Maggy here with reinforced armor plating for extra protection, increased power output to her servos for extra strength and response time, and equipped her with a pet project of mine I call a Fire-Lobber. You saw it in action earlier. You load it with special canisters of Dwarven Fire; it then ignites and launches them when you pull this trigger here. It has a range of roughly 120 yards. Great for some long range bombardment.”
“You’re rather proud of her, I can tell,” Sawain inserted.
Magina puffed up. “Well, who wouldn’t be? She’s a one-of-a-kind walking weapon. I mean, you saw how she drove off thos
e trolls with just a few lobs! Firepower’s not just for mages anymore! I’m telling you, Sawain, this little gem is going to help us win the war.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Do you plan on making any more?”
She waved her hand dismissively as she sauntered down a side aisle. “Of course I do! Got a dozen replicas in the back just waiting on power supplies. We'll be sure to pick some up in the city. Better make it quick though, since the war is almost over.”
“What do you mean?” Sawain inquired.
She began shifting boxes around, looking for a particular one. “Well, either you finish what you set out to do and soon, or the Grey King will have already won. I mean, he has all the Free Holds by the throat, and has captured several already. Even now, he’s hard at work reclaiming the ones you took back. The only way to stop him is to kill him.” She whooped triumphantly as she found the box she searched for. “And I’m going to help you do it.”
She brought the crate out and blew the dust off its lid. Timbrell coughed as the cloud drifted into his face. She shot him an apologetic glance as she sat the crate down and pried it open. Inside, a dozen crystal vials gleamed with a swirling, pearlescent liquid. She passed one to Sawain.
“Go on, take one. These are vintage Dwarven brewed medicine. They’ll heal your wounds and restore your energy. It’s some really potent magic.”
He looked the vial over as Magina passed one to Timbrell. Sawain unstopped his as he walked over to Kyra and Eldingbál. His drake wrapped around Kyra’s limp form protectively. When he saw his friend approach with the vial, he unwound himself so Sawain could get to her.
Her body felt cold, but she was still breathing. He took her in one arm and propped her head up, brushing hair from her face. Pressing the vial to her lips, he prayed this would work. Her body reacted to the liquid as it poured into her mouth. She coughed violently as Sawain held her and made sure the potion went down. A moment later, she gasped for air and opened her eyes, immediately locking onto her friend.
“Sawain… you saved me.”
He smiled as joy overwhelmed him and tears threatened to spill from his eyes. “Well, I mean, Eld helped, too.”
She threw her arms around him and pulled him tight. Her strength had certainly returned quickly. Her lips locked with his as he stared at her in shock. When she let go, she smiled at him.
“You’re a hero in my book, Swerdbrekker.”
He winced as he flexed his wounded hand. She let go as he poured the remainder of the potion into his injury. As the flesh reformed, he thought of Banthan.
“Let’s hope all these heroics are worth everything we’ve sacrificed so far.”
“Trust me,” Magina interjected as she pressed between them, handing them each a sack of apples for the carts, “Every death, every loss will be repaid in full against Malsivith’s account.”
Chapter Eight:
The electric light inside the Rock, as Magina fondly called the armory, hummed softly, still slightly audible over the ruckus the Uuthri goblins stirred. Dozens of the eccentric creatures bustled about, grabbing swords, spears, and armor, loading carts with munitions and gear. Sawain passed the potions out to the remaining members of his team as he waded through the waist high flood of goblins. Sorrow filled him as he looked over them. Kyra, Timbrell, and Sawain were the only original teammates left. With Magina, they had four, and, thankfully, she came with an army.
A tall Chandler appeared from the shadows, just inside Sawain's peripheral vision. He saluted smartly.
“Hail, Swerdbrekker. Report from the field. We tracked Aerabis for half an hour north. We were ambushed by Vampyr on the Hailagh Bridge. The road beyond is the only direct route to Caer Teallagh this side of the mountain. It's safe to assume that's where they are heading. The Master of Shadows wished me to inform you that you have two squadrons of Chandlers at your disposal for the liberation of Caer Teallagh. We await your orders from the shadows.”
Before Sawain could respond, he bowed and melted back into the darkness. Sawain squinted, unsure how he could vanish into a shadow the size of a weapons rack, but a quick search affirmed the Chandler's disappearance.
“How do they do that?” He muttered to himself.
Magina handed him a strange device similar to the one welded to Maggy-II. He looked it over and assumed this was one of the portable lobbers she mentioned earlier. She motioned with her thumb as she turned back. “Stop daydreaming and help me load these lobbers! We're taking them all with us!”
Sawain wordlessly obeyed, still puzzling over how the Chandlers' magic might work. The others kept busy loading carts as well.
Kyra glanced at Sawain as she placed another lobber in the same cart as his. "You think this is going to work? I mean, how is the enemy not going to notice a mobile armory?"
Magina answered her question as she loaded another lobber. "For one, the armory won't be all together. If they find and route one train, there'll be two others still moving supplies. That way, we can have lots of distribution points, allowing the fires of rebellion to spread faster. We have to burn hot and quick."
Timbrell hopped into the cart, his fuzzy arms full of metal canisters. "Just don't burn any of our friends while yer at it! Ooh, poor Mari. She must be scared stiff without me!"
Sawain eyed the little bard. "Are you sure it's not the other way around?"
Timbrell puffed up, putting his fists on his hips and dropping the ammunition. "I'll have you know we Pankin adventurers are quite stout of heart for our kind!"
Magina grabbed him by the scruff and shook him angrily. She held him inches from her face and scowled at him. Sawain had to suppress a smile, since the two were nearly the same height, though Magina beat him by a foot. She growled as she scolded the Pankin, his tail tucked between his legs. "If you drop any more of my dwarven fire, we'll see how stout you are after I feed you to the Uuthri! If one of those things break, this whole place and our hope of rebellion will go up in flames!"
Timbrell raised his palms upward and stammered. "M-my apologies! P-please put me d-down!"
She dropped him to the floor. He yelped as his bottom smacked the stone surface. The poor little bard sat curled up where he landed as Magina stomped off mumbling about over-sized rodents.
A few hours passed as they loaded most of the Rock's contents onto dozens of carts pulled by teams of goblins in reigns like the mules Sawain worked with on the farm. They even chomped at bits meant for mules. He wondered if that was good for their teeth then shook his head. They would be fine.
Once the last cart pulled out of the armory, Magina gathered up the remnants of Sawain's team around a wooden table in the back. A cloth map lay on the surface, held in place by an iron gauntlet on each corner. The schematics bore a label along the top that read in common runes, 'Caer Teallagh'. Magina placed a hand on a large chamber in the middle of the map. "Alright, it's time to discuss Operation Stormfront."
"Operation Stormfront?" Sawain questioned.
"Well, sure," Magina responded, shrugging her shoulders. "You know, because we're going to get you to the Storm God's Standing Stones, right? And because it sounds heroic! Where was I? Oh, right. Operation Stormfront! Our goal is threefold. First, we free the citizens of Caer Teallagh. Second, we get Sawain to the Storm God's Dias so he can do whatever it is he's supposed to do. What is it exactly that you're planning to do once you get there?"
Sawain scratched his beard nervously. "Well, umm, claim Sturmedge. I suppose Turin will guide me once I'm there."
Magina stared at him in disbelief, her mouth half open as she slowly nodded. "Uh huh. Okay, that's terrifying."
Sawain blushed. "Look, it'll be fine. I'll make it to the Dias of Turin and claim Sturmedge. I'm assuming your third fold is killing Malsivith?"
Magina guffawed, "Killing him might be asking too much, but as long as we can thwart whatever he's planning to use Caer Teallagh for and run him out of town, I'd say that's good enough."
Sawain raised his palms upward.
"Suit yourself, but once I have a divine weapon, killing him wouldn't be out of reason."
Magina shook her head. "I won't stop you from trying, but the stories that float around this guy…. He's evil, but not stupid. If we beat him, he's more likely to flee, and rely on his longevity to outlast any of ours so he can try whatever it is he's doing again in the next age."
Kyra sighed, "Okay, so whether we kill him or not, the big plan is go in, free the dwarves, and chase out the bad guy with the four of us and a few hundred goblins? I mean, he just walked in and enslaved one of the most well defended and strongest holds in the world."
Magina frowned. "Sure, but to be fair, he did so after our resources were expended from holding back the Grey King's army AND Grymhook for two years! It's not like we didn't try to stop them but... well, things just didn't go our way. The Segrammir... Lord Ferroz Stonechewer was captured as those monsters flooded our sacred halls. Without his leadership, our armies soon collapsed, our heroes' souls were ripped from their bodies, turned to ghostly thralls before our very eyes. It's not like we can't beat them, it's just that the attack happened so suddenly that we needed time to recover and prepare a plan. This is it, and it's going to work!"
"It has to work," Sawain interjected. "For our friends' sake and for all of Hammerhold, it has to work. Tell us what we need to do, Magina."
She nodded, a grin returning to her face. "Right. It's simple, really. We are going to divide into three teams, each with our own convoy of gear. That way, if one convoy fails, there's still two more that can get the job done. We each have similar goals for the first phase: sneak into Caer Teallagh and free as many captives as possible, arming them along the way with our supplies. Won't be long after that, all chaos will break loose."
She pointed at poorly scribbled side tunnels that honeycombed throughout Caer Teallagh's main shafts. "These are the Uuthri tunnels I mentioned earlier. Each one connects to an abandoned part of the mines that surround the city. They're our way in. So, each of us will take a team of goblins to haul the carts and pass out weapons. Kyra, you'll take the western mines, I'll go east, and Sawain will make his way north, straight to the World Forge."
