The Dungeon Con: One Foot in the Grave ( Hank Grave Book 1): One Foot in the Grave (Hank Grave series)

by Marty Myers

  Hank said, “ has the treasure been divided in half to your group’s satisfaction?” “ The first treasure you brought up is divided,” the young man said, “ and is piled right there.” He motioned over to a decent sized pile that was predominantly composed of gold coins. Hank said, “ then if we can not search out another wreck right now then I will take the treasure that has been sorted and return to prepare my dungeon. I will then return here later to retrieve the remainder of my cut of the second dive and to hear what has been decided among your people.” Glumly the man nodded and Hank waved his hand towards the gold teleporting it back to his own treasure vault before he and Birch teleported back to Hank’s dungeon.

  Hank then ended his possession of Birch and turned to Alastor and Cronolith. “ I am sorry guys that turned out to be a bust.” Both of them too were subdued, Cronolith said, “ I knew the odds of us finding anyone else were not good. But still, I had some slim hope that someone had beaten the odds and survived like we did.”

  Chapter 33

  Hank then noticed that there was a dwarf nearby awaiting their return. “ Captain Vander Vegan would like to speak to you at your earliest convenience Dungeon Master,” the dwarf said to Hank when he saw that he had Hanks attention. Hank only now noticed that he had once again failed to don the guise he had picked out when the Black Guards had first come to him. He had been slipping up not wearing it ever since he had dealt with the dwarves without it for the first time. He guessed he just didn’t feel like he needed the costume with his people anymore. He was who he was and they accepted him for his actions, not his appearance.

  Hank turned to the messenger and said, “ you may tell him I will come to find your Thane shortly.” Teleporting the dwarf back to his hall after he finished speaking. He spoke then to Cronolith, “ Captain I appreciate your joining us in looking for Skarlocks people. Let me know if you need anything more to help repair your ship or anything for your crew.” “ I will Hank, thanks for all your help.”

  He then took Birch and Alastor down to the dwarfs hall with the Warband’s supplies Birch had collected earlier. Hank realized his time was running short before tomorrows meeting with the Darkness. And as insane as the Dark Lords decree that they all show him more progress he didn’t doubt that failure on his part would be punished. He still had a part of himself in his mindscape mastering the magics of the Grimoire and he actually thought he would be done with all of it at his current pace by tomorrow. Being able to access the mindscape and split off portions of himself to accomplish different tasks was the only way his recent strides in progress had been possible up to this point. He needed to keep it up.

  Hank looked around the hall for the captain of the dwarfs. He could see they had not been idle while he had been occupied in the distant sea. There was now a forge up and running and it looked like all their remaining gear that could be cleaned up and made serviceable had been repaired. The remaining wights were all working on mastering drilling with their newly animated skeleton brethren with a will, splitting into teams and performing mock battles. Hank caught sight of Yngvar and approached the dwarf while he was finishing renewing an enchantment upon his personal gear. “Ho Thane Yngvar,” Hank said, “ I have come, here is also Birch with me and Alastor and also much of the supplies and replacement gear you requested.” Yngvar turned and saluted him smartly with his fist over his heart. He signaled a couple of his men to come over and begin sorting out the new gear.

  Then he said, “ Master Hank, thank you for coming. “ How did you fare looking for more recruits.” “ Not good I fear,” Hank said. “ We found Skarlock’s dungeon and island to have been utterly destroyed. There truly looked to be no survivors whatsoever and no remains left for us to bring back either.” The big dwarf nodded and said, “ aye, it is as was feared then.”

  “ Listen I know you are still looking for more minions to build your horde. Yngvar looked a bit nervous as he paused and then looked around before saying. We have had an idea about where we could see about getting them.” Hank said, “where would that be?” “ Well me and the men would like to have you scry upon a couple of our old holds. If the Dark Brotherhood of Dwarfs has truly been wiped out in the realm than they may lay empty still. Depending upon how they were abandoned. Whether they were stormed and overtaken by our enemies or whether our kinfolk simply withdrew as their numbers dwindled will determine if we will have any luck recruiting.”

  Hank said, “ but I thought you wouldn’t want to disturb any of the ancestor’s honorable rest.” “ That is very true,” Yngvar said. “ However when I came back here a few hours ago and confirmed everything you had told us to my men about the Darkness and you’re playing a significant portion in his latest plot. Well not only did it spur us all on to an even greater respect for you and our determination to do all we can. It also got some of our tricksier brethren to turn their twisty minds to our problem and here is what they came up with. If we find any of our holds full of the remains of our kin dead but not laid to rest properly that is the first option open to us. Secondly, there is a second type of burial that we dwarfs do not talk of among outsiders.”

  Hank suddenly thought he remembered what Yngvar might be speaking of. He said quietly, “ do you mean the dishonored dead? but I don’t understand how would they even be usable to us.” Yngvar explained, “ we do not treat them exactly as the pompously judgmental Light dwarfs do. Instead, they are buried separately in a big common burial chamber without honors but labeled and intact. You see, unlike the Light dwarfs we recognize that sometimes we could make a mistake denouncing a dwarf at the time of their death and then later find out they deserved to be buried with their honors all along.

  ” But with the old ways, our distant cousins practice it’s too late you have already destroyed the dwarfs final rest forever and that is that.”

  “ Its one of the reasons dwarfs are so set against changing their minds once they have been made up. Those ignorant dirt beards refuse to admit they could have ever made such a colossal mistake as destroying a righteous dwarfs afterlife and his roles as an ancestor to his descendants. So instead they stick with a lie rather than sharing in the guilt of the dark deed they did or they declare a feud over the deed and go about killing each other endlessly over it.” The Thane had fire in his eyes as he complained about the Light Ones. Hank wondered what ancient deeds spurred his ire, but didn’t inquire of Yngvar what they were as his memories said a dwarf could go for days laying out a trail of past wrongs. Dwarves never forgot someone wronging them and their kinfolk after all. They kept count of it all the way back to the very first ancestor.

  “ We Dark Dwarfs admit to our mistakes and that dark deeds happen and leave a way of correcting it if its discovered we are in error. Now if all of our people are gone than the time when these fellows could have been judged to have instead fallen with their honor intact has passed. But with you these dishonored dead, they can join our own dead brothers and receive the same second chance of falling in glorious battle in the Dark’s service as you have offered to us. It’s unorthodox, but I doubt any of them would argue against it if they were able to be asked. Finally, as we are the last dark dwarfs that could possibly convene a council to sit in judgment of them we have declared this method of absolving them of their guilt to be sufficiently acceptable to us.”

  “ So what do you think?” Hank thought it was indeed a mighty twisty way of thinking through things. but he sure wasn’t going to argue them back out of it. “ Thane Yngvar I accept your judgment in this matter, but we would need to move to check it out immediately. I must also have at least one dark dwarf to join in my scrying to lead me and Alastor to your old holds and to help identify acceptable recruits. And we will need a squad ready to go in if we should have need of them.”

  Hank knew regular dwarfs were very particular about what forms of magic they would practice or allow to be practiced upon themselves. Yngvar waved away Hanks words. “ We dark dwarfs are a more practical people than our foes. We fear few ma
gics as innately unsuitable for our purposes. Work your great magics oh Dungeon Master and we shall be fine with them. I will join you in the scrying as well as my under thane Eskil.” Hank said, “ very well, call him to us and we will begin immediately.” Eskil the dwarf in question rushed over with but a single gesture from Yngvar. Hank and Alastor added Birch to their circle as he was becoming adept at scrying himself after all of their searching of the seas. The underthane brought with him a squad of eight husky dwarfs with him. Hank decided to teleport them all to the actual scrying chamber since he wasn’t entirely sure he wished to have the dwarfs within his mindscape yet. He led the chant with Alastor and Birch backing him up.

  The dwarfs directed their scrying far to the north to a mountain set in a range that Hank thought might be part of the same range as Llywelyn’s dungeon. The mountain itself looked no different than several others he could see from their vantage point, but the dwarfs honed in on it immediately. Their view through the scrying encountered some resistance as they passed on down into the mountain. The scrying pool clouded up and darkened. “ This is why we chose these mountains for our first stronghold upon these shores,” Yngvar said. “ Some natural property of the stone of the mountains themselves make scrying and other divination magics difficult to perform here. The effect itself is reduced if you carry a bit of the mountain with you,” he said as he pulled out a beaded necklace from out of his jerkin and placed it upon the stone rim of the pool’s edge. Their scrying pools view of under the mountain once again became clear.

  As it passed through the stone they occasionally passed through dark and empty tunnels and halls. There was dust and other signs of long disuse here. Then they came to a great hall where everything was left in a state of great disarray. Tables were overturned and looked like they may have been used as impromptu barricades before being chopped up and shoved aside. Chairs and benches were broken and scattered about. A couple bent and broken bolts could still be seen sticking out here and there. “ And so this hold fell to invasion Yngvar said through gritted teeth as some of the other Dark dwarves looked into the pool with dark expressions. Looks to me like the work of axes and crossbows. That points to our dwarven cousins, the Light Beards being the aggressors here.” The room grew grim as more of the dwarfs crowded around the pool to see for themselves.

  Yngvar resumed moving the scrying through the hold looking through each chamber. In some, they found more signs of struggles. While others just looked like they had been searched but left relatively intact. What they did not find was any sign of the remains of the dead of either side. Yngvar said, “ that likely means they killed or drove off every defending dwarf and then had time to gather up and lay the dead to rest properly.” The only area they found that looked like it had been visited sometime after the holds fall was the mines where work looked like it may have carried on for some time.

  Lastly, they made their way down deep under the mountain hold to the burial chambers where the dark dwarves wished to see their kinfolks burial chambers one last time and to check on the chamber of the dishonored dead. What they found there angered them far more than anything they had found in the hold. The burial chambers of the honored dead here had been desecrated with each and every dark dwarf having had their remains chapped up and destroyed and their names and histories and honors chiseled off of their tombs.

  Hank was very angry too and knew this was not how the dwarfs had normally dealt with their foes. Never in any of his dwarfish memories would they have stooped to this. Hank could hardly imagine it, but he saw more signs that this was indeed done by the hand of their distant dwarvish foes. He found inscribed not only the clerics of lights purification rituals carved among the scarred tombs and niches but also rude glyphs and slanders degrading the dead’s deeds and family lines that must have been left by other less devout dwarvish raiders among them.

  The tombs were a complete loss with no niche or body left undefiled even the remains of women and children had been torn to shreds and scattered. The rage upon the faces of the dark dwarfs in his company was truly terrible to behold. “ Never,” shouted Yngvar, “ have we ever done this to them or theirs. Its one thing not to honor the living, but to defile the dead in such a manner is unspeakable. They shall pay!” he screamed out as he gnashed his teeth and pulled at his beard. At Yngvars urging Hank brought all the rest of the dwarven wights to the scrying chamber to look upon the fate of their home and hold. None could stand the sight of their dead lying strewn about so. So Hank agreed to teleport them all through to the tombs to try to restore some kind of order to their own kinfolk’s remains.

  Yngvar was first to appear there and manage to find bits of his own ancestors. When he stepped through the mess and gathered up the blasted remains of his forefathers into his hands something strange occurred. Though Hank could have sworn no darkness or essence whatsoever had remained within the tomb or its occupants before. There came a faint wailing sound from afar that grew in strength and became understandable as it grew in volume at last as the voices of the dead and departed crying out to their kin for vengeance.

  Suddenly the spirits of the deceased flew into the tomb and infused the shattered remains. Dark flames sprang up from the crushed and mangled bones the Thane held tightly and traveled up Yngvar’s arms. They then poured into his aura before the remains were consumed entirely leaving less than dust to mark their passing.

  Yngvar stumbled up to his feet and ordered his men to gather up all the ancestors remains they could. Each wronged spirit, in turn, urged their kin to absorb their wraith and grow stronger. To remember them and take revenge upon their bitter enemies who had wronged them so. As they continued their grim chore the blessings of the clerics of light one by one burnt out and succumbed entirely before crumbling from the nearby walls of stone.

  When at last the remains of every last ancestor and descendant had been dealt with Yngvar and his men were charged with an overabundance of dark eldritch fire in their auras. A complex mix of dark essences Hank could not exactly identify when he tried. It almost looked to him like it wove itself into a self-perpetuating curse feeding back onto itself through their auras and into and out of their cores. The dark Thane called to his men and the wights of the dark brethren gathered together and pledged such dark deeds would befall their enemies so dire that even Hank shuddered to hear them spoken aloud.

  There was one last chamber here they had not entered until now. The chamber of the dishonored dead. Hank and the dwarfs had not even thought to look there yet due to all else they had just found in the tombs but now they would look to see if there were more remains to claim or to consume before they left. Strangely there didn’t seem to be any more damage here other than the door being securely sealed. Eskil looked at the door as Yngvar wrenched the door, seal and all from out of its sill and tossed it aside. Looking in he found intact bodies set simply in each niche. He said, “ they must not have known that we do not treat the dishonored dead as they do and left this chamber undisturbed.”

  Yngvar stepped inside and took stock of the rows of the dishonored dead laid simply within to await judgment. He walked down the isles looking at each and every name among the dead. Finally, he spoke with a deep and chilling voice that had come upon him after seeing his father and mothers remains mistreated so. “ I Yngvar Vander Vegan, Thane of the last Warband of this hold of the Dark Brethren do convene this council to sit in judgment of the dead here and judge their deeds and their worthiness.

  “ I call upon my brothers to join me now.” The rest of the dwarfs followed him in and stood next to the bodies. “ Now our people are all but gone and forgotten and the time when these dwarfs could have been judged to have fallen with their honor intact has all but passed. We few here are the last. But these dishonored dead, they have one last chance at redemption. They can join our own brothers and receive the same second chance of falling in glorious battle in the Dark’s service as the dungeon Master Hank has offered to our war band. How say you my brothers, shall they
join us?” The dwarves called out their overwhelming agreement to their Thane’s words. “ Then the vote carries,” Ybgvar said and called each of the dwarves names out as Hank teleported his dwarfs home along with their remaining dead back to their hall in preparation to raising them.

  Of them only Yngvar and Eskil did he bring back to the scrying chamber. The rest were sent to the dwarfs; own hall. Hank said, “ I am very sorry to see what has been done to your hold. If you want some time before I begin raising them up just say so and I will wait.” “ No,” Yngvar said, “ they need to begin earning their honor back immediately and we need to be ready as soon as possible in case of an attack.”

  Hank took a break in his mindscape and sent that part of himself that had been practicing his necromancy down to the dwarfs hall to begin raising the fifty odd skeletons they had brought back with them. Unlike the Dark Brethren, he had retrieved from the sea floor these had just a normal amount of dark essence left within their remains. But they too had once had the dark litanies spoken over them and so they would raise as more potent undead than if he had simply been raising the remains of average men. He would just have to pour more of his own dark essence into them to ensure their superiority. Then there was also the need to get them properly armed as they had not been buried with anything. Hank shook off his musings. He was getting as bad at wool-gathering as his master Provoas he thought.

  Hank spoke to Yngvar and his under thane Eskil. “ Do we check up on the second hold you mentioned now or do we leave it till later.” Yngvar replied, “ I would know now if a similar fate befell them and get past my heartache in this one day instead of dragging it out. The second hold may be a bit easier to take as most of our closest kin lived in the first stronghold and they are already accounted for.”