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

Page 39

by Marty Myers


  Hank nodded to Alastor and Birch who had remained nearby but remained quiet throughout the scrying they had just witnessed. The five of them once more focused upon the waters of the pool and the three recast the scrying circle. Again they swiftly flew over the surface of the realm till they had reached a set of foothills beneath what looked like a different mountain. Yngvar said, “ this was primarily a mining outpost.” No one else spoke as the scrying view dipped below the surface. Here the tunnels and chambers were much more utilitarian. Nothing crude in its execution but the work lacked certain embellishments a bigger or more prosperous holding would have had. Here they found no sign of an invasion instead it appeared the hold had been abandoned voluntarily over time.

  Their viewpoint descended down through the mountain chambers until they had reached the tombs. Here they were smaller than in the first hold, but they were intact with the honored dead still laid to rest properly. Hank and everyone else breathed a sigh of relief at seeing this.

  They then brought their view to the very back of the tomb to find the chamber of the dishonored dead. Hank asked, “ do you need more of your brethren brought up for this.” Yngvar said, “the two of us will take a look around and determine what we need to do first.” Hank teleported Yngvar and Eskil directly to the chamber’s door so that they might go in to check each of the dead as Yngvar had done before. They unsealed and opened the door and entered the chamber to find a dozen or so skeletal bodies in simple niches just as they had expected to find and one large heavily chained figure wrapped up and chained down to both the floor and the wall behind itself.

  The figure shifted a tiny bit at hearing them enter, which was perhaps all the movement it was capable of under all the restraints and a woman’s voice emerged from within the bundle. “ Thank the Lords someones come at last to judge me for my supposed crimes.” Yngvar spoke up and said. “ yes that is almost exactly what we have come to do. Wait just a bit more and I will make my way to you. First I must familiarize myself with the chambers, other occupants. He read through the names inscribed on each niche and nodded to himself as Eskil did the same on the other side of the chamber.

  Hank meanwhile waited for them to finish their inspection. He felt nearly as impatient as the woman so he took the time to study the enchanted chains that bound the obscured female who rattled a bit at the delay in their hearing of her case. Hank could not tell much about her other than that her aura was saturated with a mix of potent dark and necromantic essences. He thought she was probably a fairly old and powerful wight but could not tell for sure. There were charms and wards of negation set upon the niche she was chained into as well as a few he did not even recognize that held her trapped and which further hampered his attempts to tell more about her.

  Yngvar finished his inspection of the others and came at last to her niche. He said, “ alright now, who are you and why are you chained in here with the dishonored dead.” “ I am Yngvild called the Wild Heltersdotter who was chained in here when I refused to die and stay dead in a raid upon this hold which took many other lives including all my remaining living kin other than one old aunt who never liked me. Those few that lived through the raid were convinced by her poisoned words and sharp harpies tongue to leave me to rot here amongst the dishonored dead by the convoluted reasoning that had I simply died with the rest I wouldn’t have dishonored my families warriors by outlasting them all.”

  “ I swear aunt Gundrid was the most bitter dried up old hag I have ever dealt with. She could scour moss off a rock just by peering at it. It’s a wonder my uncle’s line ever traversed past the narrows of her shallow boyish hips. He and his get must have been very good at threading the needle.”

  While she spoke on Yngvar had been reading the inscription upon the niche. And these other charges he asked. Yngvild replied, I never could stand loosing and so I bruised many a dwarf’s pride by besting him. Its a bitter pill to some men when a woman achieves more through her own efforts than they can.” Eskil spoke up saying, “ that there be the truth for sure.” Yngvar held up his hand to stay his chatty second in command from further banter.

  “ Yngvild I know not how to tell you this, but while you have been trapped here our people have been wiped from the realm. So far it appears that we are the last of the dark brethren remaining and we are no more living than you. As a living people, we are done for. We ourselves spent much of an eternity as you have, but trapped instead upon the floor of the endless seas under Manuck the Sea Lords curse. Only through rescue from an unexpected quarter have we finally managed to return home to our hold to find it desecrated.”

  At hearing this she gasped. “ Than might you be counted among the war band of Thane Yngvar Vander Vegan,” she said. “ I know of your tale. My great grandfather sailed away in your company.” “ Yes, I am Yngvar himself,” Hanks Commander said, “ and I recognize your claim to kinship my great, great niece. Alas, my brother did not make the transition to wight as I have so only his bones stand with us today.” So saying he stepped forward and took hold of the chains upon his kinswoman and began twisting them in his huge mighty hands. The potent eldritch fire he had received from his ancestors remains swept down his arms and began eating away at the bindings as the chains squealed in protest before the links gave in stretching and snapped. Magics grounded into the dwarfs mighty frame as the wards and charms all fought in vain to hold the struggling captive now that an ally gave her aid.

  Hank watched through the scrying pool to see if Yngvar needed his help but he already had the advantage of the chains as his bare hands unmade forged enchantments in them as only a master smith might. Hank did subtly work at overwhelming some of the wards set into the walls of the niche to aid Yngvar. Within the count of ten a stern and striking woman made in the same mold as her forefather was freed from her captivity. She would never be considered a beauty with her strong features, instead, her forceful personality and great stature overwhelmed any other impression you could have of her. Her head was taken up with wild tangled black hair, a large long straight nose a dark flashing eyes full of intelligence.

  As they stood together the eldrich fire sprang from him to her and a goodly portion of it took root in her aura much as it had with the other dwarfs. She watched her aura flare and flame until it subsided and then bowed her head briefly to her ancestor before returning his regard. He proclaimed, “ as the last Thane of our people I repudiate this holds judgment upon you. You are cleared of their charges and slander. You are again a maiden of the dark brethren in good standing with her people. Go now with honor where thou will always.”

  “ Go where though.” she said, “ for truly your earlier words offer little sign of there being much shelter left to us in this world.” Yngvar said, “ you could instead join us after you have heard all that I have to say about what our mission is and what is currently happening in the world. But for now we are pressed most sorely for time so please consider taking my offer of hospitality and stay with me until I might tell you all that I have to say on the matter.” She said, “ I accept your hospitality.”

  “ I warn you,” he said, “ that what I am about to do may seem shocking to you. Withhold your judgment of my actions until you have heard all that has transpired.” He turned back onto the other bodies within the chamber and addressed them all. “ I Yngvar Vander Vegan, Thane of the Last war band of this hold of the Dark Brethren do convene this council to sit in judgment of the dead here and to judge their deeds and their worthiness to earn redemption. 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. My Warband is the last. But these dishonored dead, they have one last chance at redemption. They will join my own brothers and receive the same second chance of falling in glorious battle in the Darks service as the dungeon master Hank Graves has offered to my own Warband. He called out the names of the dwarfs laying here and said I declare your second chance at earning an honored place among the dead has b
egun.”

  Yngvar turned back to his kinswoman Yngvild and said, “ we have entered into service to a mighty dungeon who is a necromancer. The same one who rescued us from our watery grave and he is in dire need of more minions to defend the Lord Darks latest plan to overthrow the Light. We can not disturb the rest of the honored dead, but those here who stand in doubt have been judged to be a different matter.”

  Yngvild eyed her ancestor for a long moment before saying. “I would like to retrieve something from the hold before we leave if it is still hidden there.” Yngvar nodded and handed over a long knife to his kinswoman. “ We have found no sign of any danger here so far but it is better to be armed,” he said. “ I am loath to part with your company so recently found, but I am needed to finish preparing the dead here.” Yngvild said,” I will be quick about it and hurriedly left the tombs.”

  Hank began teleporting the dead back to the dwarfs hall in preparation to raising them. He had just finished sending everyone other than Yngvar back when Yngvild returned to the chamber. She must have stopped to change clothes and quickly wash the worst of the dirt and grime off herself that being chained up for years had coated her in. She was carrying a dusty pack over one shoulder that looked like it had one corner chewed through by vermin and hefting a large double bit battle ax in her other hand. She walked over and looked around one last time. Yngvar said, “ good, you have returned, are you ready to leave?” “ More than you can know,” she said.

  Hank refocused and teleported the two of them into their hall. The rest of the dwarfs were already there getting the skeletons Hank’s other self was raising, outfitted. Hank was glad he had ordered Birch to buy up many extra swords and axes on his last supply run as the dishonored dead were often not buried with weapons and their own gear. Hank could tell that everyone here had plenty to occupy themselves with and that Yngvar was going to be busy catching up with his kinswoman for the time being. Hank decided he was just going to think of her as the dwarf’s niece. Instead of bothering them Hank decided he could be personally introduced later.

  Instead, he turned his attention to the many other things on his to-do list. He needed to be ready here in a few hours when the portal opened and the Darkness and Llywelyn joined them. Alastor excused himself, “ I am going to go get some sleep before the Darkness arrives. This time around I want to get to actually meet Llywelyn Hank,” he said. Birch too excused himself to go back to working with the dwarfs and Hanks other self in preparing and equipping the dishonored dead. Thinking about it Hank sent part of himself back to carving out yet another basic level to his dungeon in preparation for the spiders and bringing his lower and upper levels closer to being ready to be physically connected.

  He set off for the kitchen thinking about checking on how his chef was doing. From out of a room he was passing Khourick suddenly jumped him with a distorted huge maw filled with pure black fangs. Hank was surprised momentarily and things would not have went so well for him if in all his recent castings to master the grimoire within his mindscape he hadn’t set upon himself all sorts of wards and protections and other mystical deterrents. As Khourick came into contact with his aura he was cursed several times, stunned, bolted, and thrown back against the far wall by Hanks mystical defenses. Hank was tired of this nonsense, he could not afford to have this menace running around his halls jumping him when he least expected it. What if he began attacking others instead of focusing solely upon Hank, or what if this had happened when Hank was sorely pressed during his scavenging forays upon the seas?

  What to do. Hank supposed he could lock him up like the worthless guards were supposed to be doing but then he would have to keep at least some of his attention upon him making sure that he stayed locked up. Thinking about it Hank decided that enough time had gone by for the ex-captain to have recovered his mind if he was going to. Hank could see that his aura was still bleeding out almost pure darkness through big holes in it and what little of his core he could see through the muck looked pitted like it was being eaten away by acid. Hank didn’t think he would survive too much longer as he was. His whole system had been overloaded by the Darkness breaking through his defenses and flooding into him. Only removing a good portion of it might return some equilibrium to him.

  Hank had an idea. He made doubly sure that Khourick was knocked unconscious before he teleported the ex-captain and a skeleton he had kept from Alastasia’s down to the room above his hidden oubliette. He had the captain carried down into it and with a little work brought down enough water and supplies to hold someone for a week. This too went down with the skeleton before Hank brought the bonehead back up and sealed the chamber He carefully had the rope ladder stowed away and only then did he begin experimenting with the oubliettes ability to drain essence from its prisoners. This prison was sure to hold the guard without Hank having to worry about him getting loose again.

  Of course, it had the added benefit of helping Hank to get stronger. On top of that, he figured that this might actually end up saving the bastard in the pits sanity and life before it was all over. Having mystical power over Khourick Hank commanded his prisoner to forget about attacking him or where he was or even trying to escape from the oubliette. He then set up the oubliette’s rate of draining the guards excess pure dark essence to his liking before he moved on to other matters. Next up on his to-do list, he thought. Knowledge was power and he now had studied everything in the first grimoire. So he set out to find his master Provoas to see about the possibility of getting another one to study.

  Chapter 34

  The Angels and Francis flew far off to the south to a secluded spot to discuss what had just happened and decide on what their next course of action should be. Apostaphus eventually led them to a small unassuming hillside where a stone well had been built to provide water for passerby near a trade route. “ Where are we,” Francis asked him? “ I have brought us to a place where none may scry upon us or use other magical means of hearing our conversations. This place,” he said to Francis, “ is called the Well of Silence. Long ago a seeress lived nearby and would often come to the well here to scry. Passerby and locals using the crossroads that passes around the hill over there would stop to get water and often ask her to see things for them such as the conditions of the roads ahead for instance. This is how she earned her coin for she would charge them a small fee for her services. She was old and getting frail at that time so this arrangement helped her get by.”

  “ One summer day a royal coach stopped here and while they were stopped watering the horses one of the princesses of the kingdom came down from the coach and asked that she cast a scrying for the girl to look upon her betrothed. The old seeress refused, but the princess demanded that she do so at once and would not take no for an answer. Even going so far as to threaten to have the woman beaten by her coachmen if she continued to refuse her. The seeress told the princess she should be careful of what she was asking for and that it would change the girl’s fate to do so.

  Stubborn and mad at the old woman the princess would not relent and so the seeress scryed for her a scene most unpleasant to the girl. Her betrothed was in the habit of taking an afternoon of delight with the serving maids at his father’s remote country estate.” Seeing Francis redden at this turn in the story Apostaphus hurried on with his tale. “ Angered and shamed in front of her servants and ladies in waiting who traveled with her the princess had her coachman beat the old woman who had shown her such a scene.

  The seeress later died of her rough treatment and laid a curse upon the kingdom and its royalty which is centered here at her pool. No scrying or divination magics can be cast here whatsoever and none can cut through the interference the curse gives off to see here from elsewhere either. In fact afterwards, no seer was born or came to live in the entire kingdom. Denied such services the king and his kingdom grew poor and weak while their neighbors flourished and eventually conquered them. Splitting the kingdom and ending his own line.”

  While he had retold the story of
the well they had landed and gathered around it. Nothing physical about the place seemed sinister or dark to Francis. But something about the feeling around it disturbed her nonetheless. In all other respects, the location looked idyllic with shade from the sun and clear cool water and an occasional cool breeze stirring the trees.

  Francis wished that so many dreadful things weren’t happening right now and they could just relax here for a few carefree hours. She felt somewhat hungry and a little bit sore from being carried so much. She stretched and looked around. Apostaphus read his saints desires through their bond and announced they would be taking a short break for Francis to attend to her needs.

  While she was busy Apostaphus looked at the rest of his glum band and said, “ Okay so we need to come up with a plan of action. Before he departed Anthagelus said that there are other angels looking to contact those in the houses of the Lords to try to find out what is going on. But all of this is happening quite rapidly. I don’t think we can afford to let too much more time go by while waiting to hear back from them.”

  “ Instead I think it is time we try contacting the Lords of Light themselves with our concerns about Bahramel and the council’s behavior. He can not continue unchecked. If this be as the Lords of Light will it then so be it. But I can not believe that all of you being cast out so unjustly is according to their plans. So once we are done here I suggest we go directly to one of the larger churches in the land and call upon them from amongst the congregation. We can approach one of the clerics who can hear us and have him spur the devout to offer up prayers to bolster our pleas for a hearing in this matter. Surely the change in the Laws of Heaven if true will run counter to the dogma of the church and bring the priests and clerics to beseech the Lords for clarity in the matter. Airing our concerns with the followers in the church should spur the heavens to render a statement on what is going on.”

 

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