by Neil Hartley
“Mmmm.” Dreth wasn't convinced. There was something going on here. However, centuries of half-life had taught him patience. He would find out in due course, or it would be baby brains for breakfast. He looked at the zombies. “Are we ready?”
Percy was standing up carefully, testing his damaged leg whilst leaning on Sprat. “I think so.”
“Good. I suggest you watch where you step from now on.” Dreth turned to the wizard. “Keep the brat quiet, or I’ll be having a sudden snack.” He gestured at Percy. “Let's go.”
The zombie muttered something under his breath, but limped through the door, being careful to step around the pit. The others followed, with the mage, still holding the baby, bringing up the rear. Sprat trotted next to him, fascinated by the little elf.
~ * ~
Furn sloped forward, bow ready and senses straining. The rest of the group was close behind, in standard dungeon formation. The sorceress was in the center, protected by the other warriors.
He wiped his brow. Elves weren't supposed to sweat, but the strain was beginning to take its toll on them all. They had encountered several dangerous creatures, and brave hunters had fallen in battle fighting them off. Still more had succumbed to a swathe of deadly traps, and they had just discovered the half eaten remains of Fyy Fleetfoot, their best scout.
Still, they were the best of Jollygreenwood, so they pushed on. They had a job to do, and they would do it or die trying. Unfortunately, thought Furn, it was looking as if the latter would be the likely outcome.
He stopped suddenly, raising his hand as they rounded a corner. A short distance away was a creature. A zombie! He drew his bow back and fired in one smooth motion, hitting the beast in the arm. It fell back with a dry hiss.
The other elves moved forward, bows ready and blades drawn. The mage started to chant a spell.
The zombie crawled back, to be replaced by another figure in a long robe. Another zombie, Hurn though as he threw his bow to the ground and drew his rapier. No, not a zombie, it was moving too fast, he barely had time to get his weapon up as the attacker swung his black blade around in a low sweep.
He blocked, but the dark sword simply smashed through the metal of his rapier, leaving him staring at a stump.
As the others rushed up to help him, the creature thrust, moving far faster than he had ever seen anything move before. The blade pierced his chest, and now he could hear the laughter, the cold evil laughter, in his head.
As he felt his life energy sucked away into the metal of the sword, the shouts of his comrades faded, to be replaced by a dark voice that became his whole world.
“Blooood,” it hissed. “Blooood.”
~ * ~
Dreth pulled Darkblood out of the body of the elf and whirled to meet another attack. He swung again, but the elf he was now facing ducked, and he clove naught but air.
He risked a glance around as his enemy danced back to avoid his follow-up thrust. Cuthbert had dragged himself backwards and was busy pulling the arrow out of his arm, moaning all the while.
Percy and Sprat were trying to fend off another elf, whilst Smudge was flying around yet another, nipping in and biting where she could, whilst avoiding the swings from his sword.
Dreth parried a blow and stepped back. They needed to do something quickly, in a moment the elves would overwhelm them.
“Down!” cried Redthorne from behind, and he obeyed as a large pulse of yellow energy passed over his head, enveloping several of the enemy and reducing them to cinders. Cries went up from several of the elves and Dreth grinned to himself.
However, the spell faded far too quickly. As it dissipated Dreth saw a tall female elf in long robes, chanting a counterspell. “Damn,” he said. “There’s a sorceress with them!”
The surviving elves moved forward again, whilst Dreth and the others withdrew slightly.
“You will die for eating Fyy, foul beasts,” said one of the elves, who was dressed in gilded armor and wielding a glowing white sword. Evidently the leader.
“Who the Dreg is Fyy?” asked Dreth, trying to take a position that would block the corridor.
“Who cares?” said Darkblood, “just let me at him, I will suck his life force out to feed my own.”
The elves scowled.
“Not helping sword,” said Dreth. He braced himself as they closed in.
Something large and indistinct leapt out of a side passage with a howl, and landed on one of the elves guarding their mage. The elf screamed in agony as his arm was torn clean off, spraying blood everywhere. Another two beasts followed, jumping into the Elven hunting party and throwing them into confusion.
“What is it? What is it?” cried one, swinging his sword blindly in front of him as his colleague went down.
“Ware!,” shouted the sorceress. “They’re invisible!”
Dreth stared at the Elven leader as he looked back and forth between his howling men and the undead party, his position now compromised.
As another of his warriors screamed, he snarled at Dreth. “Damn you! This isn't finished, I’ll kill you later.”
“Hah, join the queue,” said Dreth, but he was talking to air. The leader had jumped into the fray against the new attackers, evidently able to see the creatures.
“What's going on?” asked Smudge.
“Let's get out of here whilst they’re distracted,” he answered, turning and moving quickly away down a random tunnel. “Leave that thing Cuthbert!” he said, but the zombie shook his head as he heaved at the elf Dreth had killed earlier.
“Uuuh huuu.”
The group trotted away, nearly losing Sprat to another pit trap.
Eventually, after well and truly losing themselves in the maze of passages, Redthorne cried out for a rest.
Dreth nodded, and they stopped in a corner. “Percy and Sprat, go back a ways, make sure no one is following us. Cuthbert, Smudge, check down there and over there.” He indicated the two passageways ahead. “Be careful of traps.”
Percy looked longingly at the Elven corpse, but he and the others moved off into the gloom to make sure they were all clear.
Dreth drew Darkblood and wiped the blade down.
“Delicious,” hummed the sword. “I always did enjoy elf. They have so much more energy in them.”
“What were those creatures back there?” said Redthorne, patting the baby, who was squirming about in his grasp.
“Some kind of invisible wolf-man as far as I could see,” replied Dreth. He looked at Darkblood. “Was that your doing, me being able to see them? The others obviously couldn't.”
“Just one of the advantages of carrying me into battle,” said the blade smugly.
“Hmm,” said Dreth, looking up as Percy and Sprat returned. “Well?”
“I could hear something in the distance, but it didn't seem to be getting closer,” said the zombie. “I think we’re alright for a little while.” He squatted down and took a large bite out of the arm of the elf Cuthbert had brought along.
“Oh! Elf meat is so tender!” he said, chewing blissfully. “Here lad, I promised you a liver.” He turned back to the body, but was interrupted by Smudge, who came zipping back at a fast pace, even for her.
“What's wrong?” asked Dreth.
“You mentioned a Golem was after you yes?” Asked the Fearie.
“Yes.”
“Big fellow, glowing red eyes is he?”
“Where is it?” asked Redthorne.
“Back aways. I don't think it saw me. It was just standing there, not moving.”
“Maybe it’s run out of magic or something,” said Percy.
“We should be so lucky,” said Dreth. “Ah, here’s Cuthbert. About time! Anything up there?”
“Uuuh hhhhhuuu!!!” said Cuthbert, pointing urgently down the corridor he had just explored.
“What's that?” said Dreth.
“Uuuu uuuuuhh uuuh hhhhuuuu!!”
repeated the zombie, jumping up and down.
“What did he say?” asked Redthorne.
“I’m not sure. Something about cake may be?” Dreth frowned.
“I think he said 'two eyes',” said Sprat.
“Eye cake?” asked Smudge.
“Uuuhh Hhhuuuu!!!” Cuthbert grabbed at his head in frustration, then stopped suddenly as an idea came to him. He held up 4 fingers.
“Fingers?” asked Percy, puzzled.
“Oh wait! I used to play this when I was alive,” said Dreth, then wrinkled his brow. “I think. Four words?” He turned to Cuthbert who nodded, pointed and touched his nose.
“Is there something wrong with his nose now?” Percy said, still catching up.
“First word,” said Dreth, as Cuthbert held up a finger.
“Small?” guessed Redthorne.
“A small word?” asked Smudge, hovering near the wall.
“The?” said the mage.
“And? IF? At? A? A! The first word is 'A'.” Dreth folded his arms in satisfaction.
“Fourth word,” Smudge said.
“Dance!” Percy finally caught on as Cuthbert gesticulated wildly.
Cuthbert frowned at him and shook his head.
“Drink?” said Dreth, then as the zombie changed actions... “Lean against the wall? Talk?”
“Party!” said Redthorne, as inspiration struck
“Party. The fourth word is party. A something something party,” said Smudge.
“Second word,” Dreth said, beginning to enjoy himself.
“Thinking!”
Cuthbert scowled and scratched his head.
“Scratch! OW!” Percy rubbed his arm where Dreth had hit him.
Cuthbert looked at the floor, hoping for inspiration, then clicked his fingers and cupped his hand around his ear.
“Ear.”
“No no, sounds like,” corrected Smudge.
“Sounds like... pain?”
“No. Injury? Hurt? Ouch? Ow? Ow! Sounds like 'ow' ”
“Now?”
“Wow?
Cuthbert pulled the top of ears up.
“Drow?” said Dreth, and Cuthbert pointed at him. “Shit. A Drow Elf party.”
The zombie touched at his nose and nodded madly, pointing up the passageway.
“Oh, oh! I have one! I have one! Let me have a go!” Percy waved his hands about wildly.
Dreth ignored him. “So we have Drow one way, Mr. Red eyes down that way, and our good friends the Elven hunters somewhere behind us.” He looked at Redthorne as Cuthbert bent over the dead elf and began fiddling about with the mouth.
“It seems very crowded in here suddenly,” he said, narrowing his eyes in thought and rubbing his chin.
“Don't forget the invisible wolf-men,” said the wizard, in what sounded like overly casual tones.
“Finally! Everyone look! Look at me! I have a new tongue! A shiny new elf tongue! I can talk again! I can probably speak Elvish and everything.” Cuthbert danced about, sticking his new body part out so everyone could see. “Hey, where did the Fearie go?”
Dreth looked about, down all three corridors. “I don't know, but I’m getting a bad feeling about all of this...”
Holding the Baby.
Dreth looked at Redthorne holding the baby and frowned. “Groups of Woodland Elf Hunters don’t go dungeon delving; they are just not the type. And suddenly there’s a pack of Drow wandering about as well. They wouldn’t be seeking treasure here.” He pointed a bony finger. “And I don’t think you were surprised to find that baby either.” He tapped the pommel of Darkblood meaningfully. “Start talking.”
The wizard scowled. “Pah, very well. This elf,” he jiggled the baby, “is what I actually came here looking for. I’ve been sent to retrieve it by my Order. It was a stroke of luck finding it so easily, I must admit.”
“You came to this dungeon looking for a baby elf?” asked Percy. “Not the treasure? It’s very fabled our treasure you know.”
“The treasure means nothing to me,” said the mage. “The baby is what I wanted.”
“So you have it now, why not just leave?” asked Dreth.
“Amazing! Doesn’t want the treasure,” Percy muttered to himself.
“It’s not as simple as that. I don’t know my way out of here, and I can’t teleport far accurately enough with the baby to get outside, for technical reasons. I figured the best chance I have of staying alive is to stick with you, at least until a better choice comes along, but that’s not too likely in this place.”
“Can I have your share of the gold then?” asked Percy.
“So what’s so special about this infant?” Dreth said, ignoring the zombie.
“This baby is destined to save the world from great evil. When he’s older of course. The elves are no doubt from his tribe, out looking for him. The loss of a young one would be very disturbing to them.”
“Or magical artifacts, I like magical artifacts.”
“Shut up Percy,” said Dreth. Then to the wizard: “So why not just give them the baby back? They’re on the side of Good aren’t they? It would get them off our backs at least.”
“Pah, elves.” Redthorne made a face. “They’ll just take him back to their bloody forest and hide him away. ‘Non interference of destiny’,” he made the ‘speech marks’ sign with his hands. “You know how elves are. He needs training if he’s to survive. To survive, grow up and be able to save us that is. My order can give him that training. Such a thing must not be left to chance.”
Dreth looked at the zombies. “I don’t know,” he said.
“I say we hand them both over to the Drow, they might help us if we do,” said Cuthbert.
“Just leave the wizard to it, he’s dragging us down,” interjected Percy.
“It’s no good arguing, those choices are risky to you too,” said Redthorne, obviously not liking where the conversation was heading. “What are we going to do? Where can we go now?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like a door is just going to open up conveniently to let us through, is it?” asked Dreth.
There was a grating noise from behind him. Part of the wall slid back, to reveal an entranceway.
“How did you do that Uncle Dreth?” asked Sprat.
“Never mind,” said Cuthbert, “never look a gift unicorn in the eye. Come on.” He heaved on the dead elf and pulled it into their unexpected escape route.
Dreth shrugged and followed him, as did the others. Once the last of them were inside, the wall slid shut again, blocking the exit.
“So now what?” asked Redthorne, looking about. They were in another service tunnel, slightly narrower than the main passage, but made of the same gray stone.
“I think we’re supposed to follow this character,” said Dreth, pointing at the large half cat, half man creature that had suddenly appeared in front of them. Standing on two legs, the muscular beast was human shaped, yet covered with a light brown fur. Startling green eyes stared out over a snub black nose and a mouth filled with sharp teeth. It was naked except for a pair of ragged shorts, and was gesturing at him with a clawed hand.
The others looked at each other. Percy crossed his eyes and put a finger to his head, making the ‘mental’ gesture. “Er, who would that be then?”
“This chap here, he’s standing right in front of you,” replied Dreth.
Cuthbert looked at Redthorne, who was frowning. “He’s gone. Eaten too many brains, that’s his problem. I always said the old gray matter was bad for you. Makes you unbalanced. Not enough nutritious fat content.”
“I’m not unbalanced,” said Dreth, annoyed now. Then something occurred to him. “Oh.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Percy, patting him gently on the shoulder. “The first step to recovery is recognizing you have a problem.”
“The only problem I have just now is you two imbeciles!” ret
orted Dreth, shrugging off the zombie. “There is a cat-man creature standing right here. He’s obviously invisible.”
“Of course, invisible,” said Cuthbert, winking at Percy. “Humor him,” he mouthed.
Dreth smacked him about the head. “Morons! This blade has the power to see the invisible. Yonder fellow is no doubt one of the creatures that attacked the elves. Wizard, can’t you detect it?”
“Wait a minute,” replied Redthorne, “I can do one better.” He put the baby in a special sling he had rigged up to enable him to keep his hands free, and cast a short spell.
There was a general wobbling of the air, and suddenly the zombies jumped.
“Oh, him,” said Cuthbert. “Invisible was he?”
Dreth ignored him. “Lead on,” he said to the cat-man, who turned and loped off down the corridor.
He started after him, followed by Redthorne. Cuthbert and Percy each took a leg of the dead elf and dragged the body behind them, Sprat sat on the chest, enjoying the ride.
~ * ~
Harm stalked down the passageway, following his scouts.
“It’s just down here,” said Smudge in a low voice. “They’re trapped between you, those elves and the Golem.”
“You had better be right,” said the Drow leader. “I’ve lost too many of my men as it is, curse this trap riddled maze.” He made a quick hand signal to his troops, and they drew their weapons.
“Watch out for Dreth, he’s strong and fast, you’ll have to immobilize him. And the wizard is dangerous too. The zombies are nothing,” said Smudge, hovering over Harm’s head. “Just around that corner.” She pointed.
Harm made a curt gesture, shutting the Fearie up. His men crept forward and one of them peered cautiously down the corridor. After a short pause he stepped forward, moving out of Harm’s sight for a moment. A second later he returned. “Nothing, there’s no one there.”
Harm looked at the Fearie.
“I swear! They were there just a few minutes ago! They can’t have gone far! Maybe they’re using invisibility, or perhaps Redthorne’s teleported them!” Smudge flitted about nervously under Harm’s angry gaze.
The Drow looked at his mage, Kruel Darkhand, and jerked his head. She nodded and walked around the corner. He followed.
