Hello to all! I’m still working on The Dwarf Kings. Here is the latest revision! Enjoy! Sincerely, Matt Darrow 2015.
THE DWARF KINGS
Volume 2 of The Gaea Chronicles
Matt Darrow with R. Dean
The sun rose over the mountain stronghold of Umbria. Oxholm and Drumtone, the Maegar Dwarf brothers, labored to finish the settlement of their people. They had achieved much since the defeat of Guardon, the Gorgon King, and the tyrannical despotism of the Dragons Thoth and Tiamat.
Flowers grew among the crags and precipices of their clandestine mountain valley and fresh cascades plummeted from the snow-capped peaks far above.
Oxholm addressed his brother as they chopped wood to cover the roof of a freshly hewed longhouse. The sturdy structure was one of many assembled by their people since their return to the Plane of Gaea.
“At last I am at peace, Drumtone. All is well with Taliesin and the Liege Lords in the regions to the west. Word has spread that the Goblin and Orc hordes have not attacked the Trolls and others there since their repulsion. I must not become too restful, however, for none of us know if or when the Stalactite Forces may regroup and attempt to conquer this fair valley as they have in the recent past.”
“Aye, brother,” replied the red-bearded warrior. “Although our recent victory is heart-warming the Dwarves need to remain vigilant if they hope to establish a lasting presence in these Arkadian Mountains. Let us finish our task here as quickly as possible. I wish to meet with our newly founded Dwarf Council and verify the security measures we have recently put into action are running their due course.”
The brothers marched to the ad hoc council hall of the Dwarven Tribes. There they met with a gathering of elders who had been nominated to their positions by democratic means. Each of the elders was known for his or her battle prowess, tactical cunning and loyalty to his or her respective Thane.
The Thanes were druid-like spiritual advisers who counseled the Dwarves in a variety of matters ranging from marriage to the conduct of commerce and funeral arrangements.
The elders bellowed a hearty greeting at the entrance of the renowned warriors. The leaders of the Dwarves hearkened from various Tribes. These included the Maegar, Duergar, Norgar, Urdar and Ausgar. Other Dwarves were the advocates of independent constituents although these “rogue” elders represented a minority on the council.
“Thank you for visiting us, Oxholm and Drumtone,” said a red-bearded Dwarf who sat at the head of an oval-shaped table. “You heroes would be welcome additions to this council. It has puzzled many of us why neither of you have chosen to run for election.”
“You flatter us, Hrothgar,” answered Drumtone.
The younger Dwarf stroked his beard in contemplation.
“You and your fellow elders are the duly elected leaders of this representative council. My brother and I have much work to do although we wish we had the time to dally in politics.
“We are just stopping by to check on the progress of the settlement in Umbria. How go things, here?”
“Things go as good as could be expected, Drumtone,” replied Hrothgar. “The mines and herds have passed a phase of initial development. Now time is what we need to pursue our interests. Our stronghold Minas Thanex has also undergone the placement of rudimentary foundations. It will take generations to complete our construction into the mountain face but our pace is quickening.”
“Very well, Hrothgar,” said Oxholm. “It appears that this council has all well in hand. We will take our exit and peruse the work on Minas Thanex.”
“Good luck to you both,” answered Hrothgar. “May The Fates be with you.”
The brothers left the council chamber and began the uphill trek to the foundation of what was planned to be the greatest stronghold known to Dwarves. They passed through several lesser hamlets and farms, pausing to exchange pleasantries with familiar faces. The grade of the mountainous turf continued to increase and pine trees soon overtook the tilled land of the hearty humanoids. The sky was a bright blue and clouds were scarce.
Oxholm and Drumtone breathed the wild air deeply. They were not winded but their cheeks grew ruddy from the mild exertion of the brisk hike.
The beginning of what would be Minas Thanex stood before the brothers. The structure was a massive combination of excavation, mining and architecture. Ramps and scaffolding covered the mountainside. A steady train of wagons carried ore and rock from a number of exit points from the mines. Some stones would be combined and carved to resemble ominous renditions of ancient Thanes. These spiritual guardians would protect the stronghold for all the Dwarven Tribes. Other stones were allotted to pave the halls and watchtowers of the subterranean superstructure.
Since the thwarting of the Harad Ghul, the Goblin and Orc Guild of Assassins, the hostile humanoids had dispersed to parts unknown. Oxholm remembered the bitter melees that his people had entered to defend the Maegar. He hoped that his cousins and relatives would quickly construct defensive ramparts inside and outside the mines in the event of an organized attack by the remnants of the Harad Ghul.
The central gate of Minas Thanex was vast. It had been fabricated over an existing crevasse in the mountainside. The tunnels ran deep.
Miners had hollowed out the groundwork for a massive underground city within the giant doors. So far the gate to the stronghold was protected by simple wooden barriers but when the Dwarves had smelted enough ore they would be replaced with portals of hardened iron.
Oxholm and Drumtone passed the trio of manned watchtowers that protected the entrance to the city. The soldiers on the multiple tiers cheered the passage of the heroic pair.
The brothers ventured within the opened gates and beheld the city of Minas Thanex. Roads were paved with cobblestones and they extended into the torch-lit boroughs of the complex where Dwarves of various ethnicity bartered their services and wares and feasted in several taverns.
Horses and livestock were abundant but rarely ridden. They were preferred to be used as pack animals to carry extracted material from the mines and as food.
The warriors marched down the main street for some time and reached the nucleus of the burgeoning metropolis. It was a temple dedicated to Reorx, the hammer-wielding founder of the race of Dwarves. Sconces burned incense around the temple’s perimeter and numbers of clerics and priests walked in queues up the carved-stone steps to meditate through the colonnades.
Reorx’ temple was rectangular in shape and was a testament to Dwarven craftsmanship. The pillared building was incomplete but was etched and chiseled in shifts by talented artisans. They covered the horizontal stone ceiling with incantations written in runes. Other artisans worked on sculptures of legendary Dwarven heroes renowned for their battle prowess and selflessness.
Oxholm and Drumtone moved past the crowded temple and followed the main street until they reached a bustling marketplace. Craftsmen and blacksmiths worked on refined metals taken from the ore in the fresh mines. They sold their goods to passersby who were mostly Dwarves. But, the Dwarf brothers hoped, the businesses would someday cater to visitors from throughout Gaea.
The warriors stopped at their tavern of choice. It was called Thunder Alley and sported a sign depicting a cloudy horizon with bolts of lightning descending from the sky.
The Dwarf siblings stepped inside and were recognized by a number of the patrons within. They waved in salute and sat on a pair of oak stools at the counter.
A grizened Dwarf with a sparkling, silver earring greeted the brothers.
“Oxholm, Drumtone! It’s good to see you! How fare things for the Maegar in Umbria?”
He brought the warriors a pair of steins filled to the brim with foamy ale.
“Very well, Brent,” answered Drumtone. “We have returned to Minas Thanex from an invigorating hike through our new settlements. Our people are thriving in the peace left by Taliesin and the Lieges of the various regions on the surface of the land.”
“That is good to hear,” replied the tavern-keeper. “Things are going as good as can be expected here, in our great city, too. There are reports, however, of a skirmish with Goblins in the outer mines.”
“Goblins?” asked Oxholm. “Was it serious?”
“I’m not sure,” said Brent. “I know the city guards are on the alert. I haven’t heard whether any miners were hurt. They dug into a cave where the goblins were living. The Dwarves defended themselves as best as they could and fled to the nearest shaft. If you’re interested in the details you should speak with Captain Rygar. He is the head of security for Minas Thanex.”
The Dwarf brothers took a moment to quaff their ale and then pounded a couple of silver coins on the counter.
“Thanks for the update, Brent,” bellowed Oxholm. “We’ll talk to Rygar immediately. The safety of the Dwarves is all of our concern and is foremost on our minds.”
The siblings marched out of Thunder Alley and headed to the security headquarters. It was located on the innermost edge of the city and was the last structure before the gate to the network of mines.
Oxholm and Drumtone chatted briefly with the armed guards at the entrance and ventured inside. A husky, blond Dwarf with a metal badge sat at a desk stuffed with notes and scrolls.
“You must be Rygar,” observed Drumtone.
The warriors shook hands.
“And you must be Oxholm and Drumtone,” the Captain replied. “Your reputation precedes you, staunch heroes. How can I help you today?”
“We received word of an encounter with Goblins in one of the new tunnels. Are our people secure?”
“Yes,” answered Rygar. “The natural caves and crevasses in the under earth are vast, as you know, and their outermost reaches have yet to be mapped by our most experienced spelunkers.
“I had gotten reports of mysterious thumps and sounds emanating through the walls of some of our preliminary excavation sites. It wasn’t until yesterday that a team of our leading miners broke through a section of what they had thought to be solid rock.
“The Dwarf miners discovered a new cave, occupied by some hungry goblins. The denizens of this Arkadian Mountain Range were small in stature and clearly malnourished. They attacked the Dwarves, probably more starved than angry, and were quickly repelled by the elite team’s mining tools.
“The Dwarves took the opportunity to flee the freshly-cut rock and report to the nearest way-station. Word of the conflict soon reached this office and I ordered a military patrol to set up watch over the breach, which, by the time of their arrival, was abandoned.”
“Thank you for your information, Captain,” said Oxholm. “With your permission, my brother and I would like to inspect this breach. We are miners at heart and can fend for ourselves in the tunnels. All we ask for is is a map to guide us.”
“By all means, Oxholm,” replied Brent.
The Captain reached into his desk and withdrew a freshly-penned map.
Oxholm took the map and scanned it briefly. He rolled it into a tight scroll and stored it in his travel pack.
The brothers bade Rygar farewell and departed from the security headquarters. They headed to the gate to the mines. The soldiers at the wooden doors greeted the reputable fighters and turned a crank which opened the tunnel.
The initial passage was wide and well-paved. Runes and torches lined the walls. It was broad enough to allow a pony and loaded cart to pass in either direction at once.
A few miners passed the warriors as they drove wagons loaded with ore toward Minas Thanex. The siblings nodded in greeting as they moved deeper into the network.
Several perpendicular intersections crossed the main tunnel to extend miles into the mountain. Oxholm checked his map and said, “We are on the right path, Drumtone. These alternate routes are intact. Let us march onward to the newly-cut territory.
It took several hours of walking and the brothers paused to rest, drink water and commiserate with other miners at a number of brightly-lit way-stations carved out of the stone.
It was clear to Drumtone that these way-stations would soon be enlarged to become settlements. Commerce was increasing in the mines under the encouragement of the Thanes and Dwarf Council.
At times waterfalls and brooks flowed through the rock face. The walls of the tunnel were no longer decorated and paved and the jagged stone showed signs of being recently hewed by advance teams of miners. In places wooden pillars and braces had been put into place to support the ceiling and prevent a collapse.
Drumtone reached into his travel pack and took out a torch which he lit with his tinder box. This provided needed illumination in the narrowing passage. They had reached the heart of the ore mines. Neighboring shafts had been equipped with elevators that raised and lowered loads of rock to multiple levels above and below the central tunnel. These mobile platforms were hoisted by a system of interlocking cogs, wheels and chains pulled by ponies. The sound of pick axes and hammered chisels echoed through the mine shafts. The Dwarves were hard at work and carried on with the tasks at hand despite the encounter with the goblins.
After another mile the carved-stone of the tunnel terminated altogether. What remained was a natural crevasse that met with the planned excavation route of the miners. A group of torches had been lit around the nearest bend. Oxholm checked his axe and Drumtone his hammer. The lights demarcated the base for the military patrol delegated by Captain Rygar.
A dozen finely-armored soldiers chatted tersely among themselves as they raised their vision to meet the sounds of the approaching fighters. They soon recognized the pair and greeted them amiably. They shook hands with the group.
“Welcome, Oxholm and Drumtone,” said a Dwarf Sergeant. “I am Baldur of the Urdar Tribe. It is clear that you have come to investigate the breach where the goblins were found. Is all well with Captain Rygar and Minas Thanex?”
“Indeed, Baldur,” answered Drumtone. “All is well with our great city and so far this is the only location where the fierce humanoids have been located.”
“My brother and I have come on our own volition. We, like you, are always concerned with the safety of the Dwarf Tribes. Has there been any sign of goblins since your arrival?”
“No,” answered the Sergeant. “But we did not venture far into the breach to pursue them. Our orders were to stay here and prevent anymore skirmishes with the regular miners in the area.”
“Good, Baldur. You are a dutiful soldier,” said Oxholm. “We will be so bold as to enter the opening in the rock. We will be careful but see it fit to conduct some reconnaissance on our neighbors, as it were. Is the tunnel ahead the location in question?”
“Yes, Oxholm. May The Fates be with you. If you have need of support we will be here and will come to your aid if you have not traveled too far into the depths.”
“Thank you, Baldur. We will return as soon as we can and will be careful,” Drumtone stated.
The siblings moved past the group of soldiers and their path was soon lit solely by Drumtone’s torch.
The air grew chilled and there was a mild breeze. The crevasse became erratic at points, spanning wide, beyond the design of the planned tunnel and then narrowing, forcing the Dwarves to turn sideways in order to pass.
At last they reached a wall with a hole in it. All was quiet and the brothers took care to mask their steps as they approached the breach. Hammers and chisels were strewn about the orifice and several of them were marked with green, goblin blood.
These Drumtone viewed with growing concern.
How many of them are there? How deep do these neighboring caves extend? What magic supports these strange goblins despite their recent defeat?
The warriors entered the breach holding their weapons at the ready. The smell of an extinguished cook-fire permeated the air. Rags and bones of small cave-dwelling animals had been tossed about in the scuffle. There was an opening in the cave at the opposite end from the breach and must have been the avenue of the startled goblins retreat.
Oxholm and Drumtone were not afraid. They walked to the round opening and found that they did not need to hunch over to pass through it. This they did and discovered another tunnel, not nearly as well-excavated as those of the adept Dwarves but sufficient for exploration.
Sounds of chanting and growling goblin speech emerged from the darkness beyond.
They must be having a meeting, thought Drumtone.
He gestured to Oxholm for silence and to move forward. They reached a bend in the path and cautiously looked around the corner.
The two Dwarves saw a large cave, filled with goblins who faced a podium where an Orc shaman was in the process of conducting a ceremony of some kind. He was accompanied by a pair of beholder beasts and a Duergar mercenary.
“Now is the time to act, goblin conscripts,” declared the orc shaman. “The Dwarves are soon to detect the proportions of our stronghold in the Arkadian Mountains. They have already intruded on your cousins and slew several of them in cold blood. The magic of the ember stones is ours to wield and we need not share it with the others. There is power here and we need but the time to construct the tools to harness it.
“It is clear that not all ore contains ember. It rests only in the deep veins and ancient cores of the mountains where the pressure of eons was greatest.”
I need not remind you that there are entities not present here that would be grateful for contributions to their dwindling hordes. If we play our cards properly we can buy the allegiance of powerful allies in a future siege against Minas Thanex and the villages of Umbria.
“Yes, Ordryx. Your counsel is sound,” said a beholder. “Our associates, who wish to remain nameless at this time, would bestow great rewards on those who kept knowledge of the magical ember from the Dwarves. They have already ventured too deeply into the Arkadian Mountain Range and are sure to covet the multifaceted power of the ember for their own designs if they learn of its existence. They have long sought to obliterate the Goblins and Orcs and would only use the ember to attempt such genocide.”
“That is true, Solyx,” declared the other beholder. “You are a wise Gorgon and serve our master well. We are also indebted to our Duergar guide, who was fortunate to secretly dig deep into the rock ahead of his kin.”
Drumtone gestured to Oxholm to move back from the corner of the cave. The brothers withdrew from the meeting place of the goblins and others and made their way back to the breach and Sergeant Baldur’s entourage.
Oxholm spoke as they returned through the miner’s breach.
“I’ve heard enough, Drumtone. We must speak with the soldiers here and let them know of the goings on in our midst.”
“That is prudent. If anything should happen to us the Dwarves of Umbria would be left in the dark. We must divulge our intelligence to Baldur so that he can send the message to Captain Rygar at the security headquarters.”
The group of Dwarf soldiers had heard the sounds of the warriors approach and looked to them attentively.
“Oxholm, Drumtone, you have come back to us in little time. What have you discovered?”
The experienced fighters reported the information they overheard from the goblins’ meeting. All of the Dwarves present were shocked to learn that there was a Dwarf among the Goblins.
Sergeant Baldur quickly delegated a pair of soldiers to hurry the information to Minas Thanex.
The group of Dwarves wielded their weapons and prepared for battle. They lit a bunch of torches and distributed them among their number.
The team of fighters entered the breach once more and hastened to the cave where the brothers had stood. The meeting hall was empty and there was no sign of the Goblins or the ominous beholder beasts that had gathered there just minutes before.
“We must be hot on the trail of these devious agents of conspiracy,” said Baldur. “Let us infiltrate this alien network of mines and see what we can find.”
“Oxholm and Drumtone’s description of this so-called ember is mysterious. Whatever it is the substance should be identified and analyzed by trained smiths and jewel crafters. To leave such a potent magical force in the hands of the goblins and a twisted Duergar mercenary does no good for the settlers of Minas Thanex and beyond.”
“We agree, Baldur,” replied Drumtone. “Let us move on and be ready for a fight. The individuals here will not willingly let the secret of their quarry escape them.”
The group of Dwarves rounded one more corner and were met by a group of armed goblins and a beholder beast.
An intense battle ensued. Oxholm wielded his axe and Drumtone his hammer. All of the Dwarves unleashed a booming war cry and engaged their opponents.
Baldur swung a short sword and slew two goblins in one strike. His weapon was sharp and had been forged by master Dwarven smiths. It cut through the goblins’ defenses with ease and struck both targets fiercely.
The other Dwarves contended with the beholder beast. It released scalding, ephemeral ribbons of red into the air but the soldiers were quick. They rolled apart to evade the attack then regrouped. The fighters ran the gorgon through at multiple locations. The spherical beast slumped to the ground and died.
This gave the warriors the opportunity to focus on the remaining goblins. The hostile humanoids rendered a flurry of blows on their enemies. The weapons and armor of the Dwarves were resilient, though, and the counterattack did no damage. Baldur and his companions hastened to surround the goblins and commenced to assert the coup de grace, knocking the remainder of them out of consciousness.
“We are victorious!” breathed Drumtone. “Let us move on through these mines, my friends. We must secure the ember for the Thanes. They will determine what should be done with it.”
The Dwarves nodded their agreement and continued into the complex of tunnels deep under the Arkadian Mountain Range. Their torches continued to burn brightly and created eerie, dancing shadows in the nooks and angles of hastily carved rock.
All was quiet but for the squeak of the occasional rodent and dripping of water from the ceiling.
Perpendicular passages, similar in architecture to those in the mines of Minas Thanex intersected with the chosen route of the Dwarves.
“Ah,” said Baldur. “This method of cross-cutting is Dwarven in nature. It must be present here due to the influence of the Duergar mercenary you brothers reported of seeing. We are deep in the Under Earth and it is not the place for the endeavors of casual rock-finders and amateur geologists. This Duergar knows his business. Upon our return to the city we must consult with the Duergar Thanes. They may know of him.”
As the Dwarf warriors continued on they noticed strange minerals glittering in the surface of the stone. None of them had seen the substance before. It consisted of purple and red crystals which sparkled in the torchlight. At times these crystals grew large enough to extract with chisels.
Oxholm paused briefly to take a handful of the mysterious minerals. As he placed the crystals into a leather carrying pouch he spoke.
“This must be the ember we heard about. I will take these samples to the Thanes. I sense unknown power within this material. I don’t think it is lawful or chaotic. It must simply enhance the designs of the bearer whatever they may be. Perhaps this ember can be used as a psychic magnifier. It could certainly serve as a fine addition to my axe or your hammer, Oxholm.”
The fighters moved on through the hall until they reached a chamber partially immersed in water. Stalactites and stalagmites extended from the ceiling and floor. A cascade fell from several hundred feet above to fill the pool. The Dwarves navigated around the rippling lake and headed to an arched gate at the opposite end of the naturally-formed cavern.
There was no sign of the other beholder or the Goblin shaman and his followers.
The warriors took a moment to drink water from their flasks and check their weapons of choice. They drew near the gate and stayed on the alert.
Once through the gaping portal they beheld a complex network of tunnels extending into the rock vertically and horizontally. There were no miners in sight and it was clear to the battle party that the workers had been warned of their approach.
Similar in fashion to the elevators of the Dwarves were lifts with chain harnesses to be pulled by beasts of burden. They too were vacant and there was no sound of hammers or chisels over the mild, subterranean breeze.
Crystals of ember continued to sparkle in the torchlight. The raw, magical power of the substance was evident to all in the group. This only heightened their concern that it be wrought by proper hands.
The travelers followed the central tunnel which now was wide and reinforced with wooden pillars and frames.
Oxholm saw piles of barrels and chests that had been flung open and emptied of their contents. He did not doubt that it had been done to keep endeavors secret from the Dwarves of Minas Thanex.
The stout fighters marched through the colonnades of the central hall and came upon a massive cavern. It contained a substantial Goblin settlement. The walls of the opening in the rock were illuminated with ember and luminescent fungus.
The wiry humanoids were notoriously small in stature and they went about their business, paying the cautious Dwarves no notice as they gazed upon the buildings from the edge of the chamber.
Drumtone whispered to Baldur.
“My Urdar friend, I fear we have met our match, here. This is an immense Goblin hive. They have worked at the construction of this settlement for years. “If we are to gain additional intelligence on this mission I suggest we cloak ourselves, covering our armor, weapons and Dwarven features. If we do this we may succeed in circumnavigating the main structure and enter one of the side tunnels.”
“I concur,” replied Baldur. “If we are to learn more about the goblins and the ember in this place we must infiltrate this location undetected.”
The adept Dwarf Sergeant signaled his soldiers to don their war cloaks. The garments were a dark, matted gray in hue and melded well with the shadows and obscure zones of the goblin hive.
Oxholm and Drumtone put on similar guises and the group moved on through the perimeter of the ominous Goblin stronghold.
As they passed the temples and markets of the strange humanoids the Dwarves saw several shamans and beholder beasts conducting mysterious commiserations among the gnarled stone pillars and stalagmites.
Many of the humanoids conducted transactions with sparkling ember. They used it as currency. Other Goblins took large stores of the ember to the shamans who stored it in the deep reaches of their temples.
Drumtone glanced briefly at the heart of the goblin hive and was sure that he glimpsed Harad Ghul. They were taller, Orc conscripts of the infamous Guild of Assassins.
The Dwarves hastened on, desperate to avoid detection by the xenophobic horde. They continued along the edge of the conical cavern and ultimately reached an unguarded entrance to a subordinate tunnel.
This they rushed into with sighs of relief. Despite their collective battle prowess they would feign to test their skills in such a reckless fashion.
Oxholm, Drumtone, Baldur and the others of their group marched into the tunnel heading deep into the unknown of the Under Earth.
Fungus and mushrooms grew large and many of them emitted light of their own. The tunnel wavered in green and purple light along with the illumination of the torches of the Dwarves.
Magic is abounding in this place, thought Oxholm. The ember is but a part of an arcane ecosystem growing in these crevasses for eons.
Glowing centipedes coiled around the stalks of several mushrooms in a mysterious symbiosis. Stalagmites and stalactites glistened with freely flowing mineral deposits. The breeze grew strong and carried the scent of unseen masses of water and life.
“This is another world, brother,” observed Drumtone. “We had no idea of the expansive reaches of the crags and chambers within the Arkadian Mountain Range. There are pockets of life here unknown to the surface-dwelling races.
If only there were time to document these new species, thought Oxholm. A Dwarf biologist could spend his career researching the interrelationships of this wildlife. Creatures thrive in the rock. They depend on the ember and the magical forces within these mountains for sustenance. We must be careful of what entities and forces we awaken by our passage. Reorx save us from the sleeping wyrms!
The battle group wound through the masses of fungus and mushrooms with the intention of finding a turning point. The centipedes and millipedes they saw were not aggressive and the Dwarves took care to avoid stepping on them.
The passage was no longer etched by chisels and pickaxes. It was natural and had been formed by centuries of dripping water and the moving of layers of granite, slate and limestone under titanic pressure.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have come here,” muttered Baldur. “I haven’t seen any sign of Goblins, Orcs or gorgons for some time. This is a naturally-formed system of passages. There is unseen power here. Perhaps it is better left undisturbed.”
“Don’t forget our mission, Sergeant,” answered Oxholm. “We are here to gain knowledge of the ember that the Duergar mercenary has found. It has already been secured in a substantial quantity by the goblin mining process. If we have any hope of balancing the pendulum of arcane force in Gaea we must push on to the mother lode. These paltry crystals and sparkling gems are but an indication of the force that sleeps deeper within the rock. It is our destiny to unlock it before our competitors use it to destroy us.”
A deep, bass rumbling shook the tunnel. Clusters of stone were knocked loose from the ceiling and walls. The Dwarven fighters hoisted their shields over their heads to protect themselves from the barrage. As the earth shook they stumbled and pressed themselves against the walls to maintain their balance. Cracks and fissures opened up in the floor and steam jetted into the tunnel.
“This route is not stable,” Baldur declared. “We must be on our guard.”
The Dwarves moved on cautiously and the passage twisted and turned in a haphazard fashion. They were determined to stay their course, however, and did not falter.
The zephyrs and breeze grew hot and fluctuated as if forced back and forth by a massive billows. Lava oozed and dripped from openings in the ceiling. The glowing, red liquid was clearly scalding to the touch and the Dwarves took care to avoid contact with it.
At last the ceiling fell just before the battle party. Showers of boulders and glittering stones fell into a lower pocket in the mountain’s core. They were forced to wait as the cascade lasted for several minutes, barring the path beyond.
Tons of ore and stone fell from far above and the earth shook like never before. When the cascade of rock finished the air had become filled with dust and ash.
The tunnel opened into a glowing red, chamber. The Dwarves grew near to the edge and looked into the crimson-lit chamber. It was a vast, cylindrical chasm, covered at multiple locations with cascades of lava falling from far above. Immense crystals of ember floated at various levels, hovering of their own volition. The purple and red minerals rotated and sparkled in the hot wind of the volcanic space.
Baldur was the first to gaze down, over the edge of the tunnel from which his party stared. The cylinder dropped hundreds of feet to the mountain’s heart. Coils of steam and ash spiraled like snakes as they moved through numerous, thermal phases of hot and cold air.
Baldur saw other breaches into the cylinder where goblin tunnels had fallen away in the rock slide. At the very bottom was a radiant, lake of fire.
A colossal, ephemeral, magma wyrm rested on a bed of volcanic rock in the center of the lake. It looked up and laughed.
“Hah, I’ve been waiting for you, Dwarves. I am Fafnir!
“The magic of the ember stones is but a token of the power that these mountains possess. Be careful what you seek.
“Ages ago these tunnels were tapped for their wealth and metal by Goblins and Dwarves alike. They are gone now for good reason.
“It was I who thwarted their designs. The forces that reside in the etherium and ephemium do not lend themselves to mortal desire. They are food for wyrms.
“This is my horde. As it has been for milennia. Don’t be afraid. The ember is here for all but you may not like the price. “Your ancestors and those of the humanoids you oppose chose poorly. They opted to take what they could without paying me tribute. Suffice it to say that is why this system of tunnels and wyrm holes has been vacated by my fire.
“Speak, now, and answer for your Thanes. They have already detected my presence as have the populations of the various regions on the surface of Gaea. “The ethereal wyrms can choose to fight me, but I have slept here for far too long. They know that I will defend what is mine.
“It will do all in question good to think on my offer of control over the processing of the ember and ore. I will take a goodly share of the magical stuff but will keep these halls under my protection.”
“What choice do we have, Fafnir?” yelled Oxholm from far above.
“None, as far as I see it,”answered the magma wyrm.
The steaming beast chortled in waves.
“Take some time. Do not fear my fire, yet. Go to your people and give them my proposal. Half of the gold, silver and jewels, along with your manufactured weapons and armor are to be left here on this rock island with me.
“In return I will run off any other wyrms that attempt to conquer these mountains. Believe me when I tell you the Under Earth is vast and entities sleep that should not be awakened. But they will be.
“A new age is upon this Plane and the balance of Order and Chaos has fallen to the meddling of Hydro, Mara, Thoth and Tiamat.
“You stand on a way-point between worlds where magic is untamed by lawful and chaotic entities and is but a bargaining tool of those ancient beings formed at the dawn of the cosmos.”
“And what of Reorx? Doesn’t he have a say in this gambit?
“Hah, Reorx! He is a tool-maker and molder of clay. I would beckon him to participate in the fabrication of treasure for my horde but he is strangely absent from the pantheon of spheres. Perhaps he has abandoned you.”
“Consider what I have said and go to your settlement. I will await the answer of your Thanes. Do not attempt to mine the ember beforehand.”
“What of the Harad Ghul and the gorgons? Don’t they pay tribute here?”
“Foolish, Dwarf. They tap but a smattering of ember and use it as currency. I know you Dwarves. You would take my horde entirely as your ancestors attempted. And that is not acceptable.”
“Very, well, Fafnir!” yelled Drumtone. “We will go and consult with our leaders. Await our answer and do not harm our miners in the meantime. Farewell.”
The battle party turned from the fiery breach in the heart of the Under Earth. They hastened back the way they came, no longer concerned with the possibility of interception by the goblins and gorgons.
Baldur had jotted a quick map of the routes they saw and his team of warriors was able to extrapolate an alternative path of return to the original meeting cave and the breach to the mines of Minas Thanex.
The Dwarves marched through Baldur’s circuitous route for several hours without interception. They eventually reached the breach and the outer limits of the extensive mines of the Thanes.
After half of a day’s time they met with the way-stations, sending word of their encounter throughout the secure tunnels.
Although fatigued from the forced march Oxholm, Drumtone and Baldur’s entourage returned as quickly as was physically possible to Minas Thanex.
There a mass of Dwarves from the various tribes waited their arrival, having been notified of their exploratory venture by the delegated pair of runners Baldur sent to the city before his expedition departed.
Captain Rygar and several male and female council members stood at the front of the gathering. They cheered at the approach of the known heroes and were baffled by the expressions of concern on the faces of the battle party.
“Thank you all for greeting us,” declared Oxholm. “You do us honor to gather her before us in such a manner. We are glad to be in the bosom of Minas Thanex once again. All of the Dwarven Tribes will benefit from the knowledge we have gained in the mines. We must, however, divulge our intelligence to the Dwarf Council and the Thanes.
“If you please, make way for us and let us pass to Reorx’ Temple. We will rendezvous with the council members we see before us at that locale.”
The mass of curious Dwarves murmured their consent and maneuvered among themselves to clear a path for the returning warriors.
Several drummers beat a victorious rhythm on the rooftops of neighboring buildings. Other Dwarves applauded and cheered as the heroes proceeded into the city.
In a matter of moments the Dwarf brothers and Baldur’s team reached the temple dedicated to Reorx. Several of the representative council members, including Hrothgar, were already present among the ceremonial coffers which burned incense.
Drumtone addressed the sizable group of tribal elders as they continued to amass among the carved-stone colonnades.
He recounted the events that took place in the alien mines, from the battle with the goblins and gorgon to their infiltration of the ember-laden city and encounter with Fafnir.
The Dwarves were dismayed to hear of the existence of the ominous ember and the magma dragon. They took some time to discuss the information among themselves then gestured to Hrothgar to make an address.
“We thank Reorx that you are among us, Oxholm and Drumtone. It may have been weeks before we learned of this magical ember and even longer of the goblin city and Fafnir’s lair.
“You are adept spelunkers and your extended map will be copied for the good of all Dwarves. The Thanes have recommended that the Council of Dwarves reject Fafnir’s proposal. He does not sound trustworthy to us. Clearly this will mean war for the Dwarves. Your description of the goblin city fills us with dread. We will put defensive measures into effect immediately.”
The Dwarven leaders scrambled from the temple. They spread word of the tyrant dragon throughout Minas Thanex. Blacksmiths threw coals on their fire-pits and powered the billows. They hastened to use their knowledge to arm their kin. The marketplaces of the subterranean city were met with a crush of warriors, desperate to equip themselves with the finest armor and weapons.
The city guard stepped in to keep bartering sessions from becoming hostile. Maegar Dwarves from the surface of Umbria brought in shipments of staffs to be turned into dragon-lances. Urdar from neighboring mountaintops and Norgar from conjoined mines brought ingots to form reinforced bars on Rygar’s Gate.
Oxholm and Drumtone met with the Duergar Thanes but they had no knowledge of the identity of the Duergar engineer helping the goblins.
Miners became scouts, Druids became medics, farmers became carpenters and over all the blacksmiths hammered through the night.
The forges flared with crimson light as crucibles were filled with molten iron. Dies were cast and molds were shattered to quench glowing rods of steel in flaming oil.
The Dwarves were ready. The traps had been set and the mines locked down. The Tribes were armed and prepared. They waited for Fafnir and his Goblin forces.
They came at dawn. Dwarven scouts reported that the initial gates were demolished by a sea of goblins. The horde poured through the mountain.
It couldn’t be determined if they were pushed forward or driven from behind. Then the wyrm broke through.
A series of temblors shook the rock from deep within. Next came a wave of beholder beasts. The bloodthirsty gorgons shrieked as they descended through vertical shafts carved by the goblins.
They engaged the vanguard at multiple locations. The single-eyed, spherical creatures extended their tentacles to emit charm spells.
The Dwarves were resilient and did not succumb to the arcane influence of the slavering carnivores. They countered with their short-swords and battle-axes. Many of the beholders fell in a swath of carnage only to be crushed from behind as the goblins rushed into the mines of Minas Thanex.
The fight was on and the vanguard was pushed back through the length of the tunnels. Goblins archers shot volleys of arrows into the mass of warriors. The Dwarves used their angular shields, however, and emerged unscathed.
Within the city many Dwarves moved to open the main gate to aid their kindred in the tunnels.
Baldur and Captain Rygar had positioned their militia in the front of the crowd and convinced them to keep the doors closed and barred. Many fighters protested but were soon silent.
Many Goblins fell in battle as they attempted to press through the vanguard. The sounds of battle emanated through the carved-stone halls and the Dwarves in the city grew anxious as the lights of first one way-station, then the next were extinguished.
It was then that Fafnir attacked. Spouts of flame flew through the mines, scorching Goblins and Dwarves alike. The magma wyrm writhed and twisted through the halls, breaking pillars and frames as it muscled for purchase in the dark.
Those of the initial Dwarven resistance that remained hacked and bludgeoned the aggressive dragon from side tunnels. The glowing, rock of his flesh was hardly dented and many of the valiant fighters were forced to withdraw into neighboring chambers with melted blades. They watched as the dragon tore their carefully crafted passages into smithereens. They could but hope that their brethren behind the gates would do better to turn the dragon from his path of destruction.
Trapped Goblins went berserk against the gate of Minas Thanex. They no longer cared about the Dwarves they were desperate to flee the weight and heat of Fafnir. Baldur and Rygar heard the screams of the Goblins as they fell in another blast of fire released from the massive wyrm’s arcane maw. The doors steamed and grew hot to the touch, but still they held strong.
Fafnir’s head reached Minas Thanex and the Dwarves within bellowed a war cry as the magma dragon pounded his smoldering snout against the barred portals.
The odor of sulfur and ash gusted into the city chamber. The dragon thrust against the sealed gates and the bolts and bars flexed and bent from the pressure of the massive beast.
Many Dwarves hoisted their spears and dragon-lances against the doors in an attempt to stop Fafnir from infiltrating the city. The magma wyrm let out a hideous snarl and slammed his head against the barrier again. This time the bars broke and the locks shattered from the assault. The gates to Minas Thanex were flung wide and Baldur led his soldiers in a ruthless attack.
The spearheads of the fighters had been forged by master smiths, and these the defenders thrust into the dragon’s snout. Many of the burnished blades penetrated the rocky flesh of the beast, causing lava to ooze from the wyrm’s wounds.
Fafnir countered with a blast of fire and the Dwarves were quick to raise their shields in defense.
The blast was hot and the warriors in the city streets were forced to hold their breath to prevent inhalation of the acrid sputum.
Once the blast ceased the Dwarves rolled apart to hack at the legs of neighboring water towers. The traps had been prepared some hours before and the scaffolding supporting the reservoirs fell quickly into the wyrm.
The cascade of frigid liquid covered the exposed section of the magma dragon. He was stunned by the shock of the cold and wrestled in the fluid to escape the uncomfortable substance.
Fafnir was committed in the gateway and could not easily withdraw. Jets of steam and chunks of rapidly cooled rock were flung from the dragon’s body and head leaving vulnerable, glowing holes in his anatomy.
These wounds the Dwarves targeted with their weapons and they delivered the points of their swords and spears into the core of Fafnir’s cylindrical form.
At this time Oxholm and Drumtone emerged from their hiding place in the roof of the city cavern. They held ripcords as they dove toward the floor of Minas Thanex several hundred feet below.
Their belts were attached to trap doors in the ceiling and they opened under the weight of the armored Dwarf brothers. Within a hidden cavity was a reserve of ore and sand loaded by miners over the previous weeks.
The tons of material dropped onto the suffering dragon’s head, causing additional damage to his chilled and blistering flesh.
The citizens of Minas Thanex gave an all-out battle cry and surrounded the dragon. They hacked and slashed at Fafnir with full force, rending chunks of rocky flesh from his sizable, serpentine form.
The magma wyrm rolled in agony, toppling buildings and towers in a random, desperate attempt to avoid the assaults. Many Dwarves were battered and flung by the force of the twisting entity and numbers of them lost their lives.
Oxholm and Drumtone were enraged by the deaths of their kin and the infiltration of their hallowed sanctuary. The cut their ripcords from their belts and dropped to the spine of the wyrm, thrusting their weapons downward as they plummeted the remaining distance.
The blows of the adept warriors were severe and their armored boots became immersed in a sloppy mixture of lava, sand and Dwarven blood.
At last the hostile, giant beast acquiesced and bellowed.
“Enough! You accursed Dwarves are a nuisance to these mountains. Mark my words. You will regret this insult. You have not seen the last of Fafnir!”
The magma wyrm twisted awkwardly and writhed to gain purchase in a hasty retreat. This did not stop the population of male and female warriors from continuing their barrage of assaults on his body.
At last Fafnir was able to pull out of the damaged sections of Minas Thanex and squirm in retreat to the connected tunnels.
The Dwarves gave chase as quickly as their stout legs would allow and a number of them employed bows and bolt throwers to dissuade the beast from harassing their civilization.
Fafnir continued to slink and rolled quickly, however, despite his pierced and shivering condition. The hilts of spears and axes lodged in his flesh snapped off as he retreated through the extensive mines.
What remained of the vanguard in the deep tunnels had waited for the dragon to turn. And again they pummeled him as he made his move back to the Goblin mines. The dragon took several moments to make his ultimate escape. Fafnir went about the business of nursing his wounds in the volcanic core of the Arkadian Mountain Range and would require much time to bathe and feed in the primordial fire of the Under Earth.
The Dwarves of the various Tribes cheered their temporary repulsion of the their colossal adversary.
They embraced Oxholm, Drumtone, Rygar and Baldur at the defunct gates. The Thanes and Council Members neared the place of the battle and nodded their appreciation of the fearless tactics of their people.
Many Dwarves, goblins and gorgons had fallen or fled under the invasion of Fafnir. Much of what had been constructed since the peace of the Liege Lords on the surface had been razed to the ground.
Despite this pyrrhic expenditure of energy and life the Dwarves were surprisingly boosted emotionally. Much more could have been lost and they had succeeded in protecting their commitment and investment in the projects of a subterranean livelihood.
Drumtone addressed his fellow warriors.
“Congratulations! We Dwarves have done well this day and have succeed in putting into action the mandate of the Thanes and Dwarf Council. We will not bend to the coercive proposal of the dragon tyrant. He is responsible for the loss of our ancestors here and those that fell in today’s struggle.
“Let us pause, now, and regroup so that we may pay homage to our fallen kindred and bury them with full military regalia in funeral pyres atop the mountains. There they will be welcomed into Reorx’ forge from the proximity of their respective tribes.
“I imagine that the Goblins and beholder beasts will not be quick to return to our territory as they, too, have suffered substantial losses to their number.
“You speak wisely, brother,” replied Oxholm. “Minas Thanex will be rebuilt and the dragon will not easily forget the infliction of our defensive tactics. We must not sit on our laurels under a false sense of security, though. Fafnir lives. As do the Orc agents of the Harad Ghul and those who would usurp the ember hidden in the depths of the rock for their own, selfish purposes.
“When the time is right I advise us that we consult with the Thanes and Dwarf Council again. They will have ideas in regard to the creation of effective barriers to prevent such an invasion of our way-stations and settlements in the near future. Certainly we must focus on smelting the ore and refining the yields of iron into stronger gates, locks, barriers, pitfalls and traps.
“I was especially disturbed by the descent of the beholder beasts through the ventilation shafts that span to the surface of the mountains miles above us.
“We need air circulation in our civilization, but perhaps a system of spinning flaps and fans with spikes on them will better thwart the free passage of the levitating invaders.”
“That sounds like a good proposal, brother,” said Drumtone. “We should share it with our master engineers and talented spelunkers who are not afraid to scale the expansive heights of our ventilation and irrigation shafts.
“The future generations of Minas Thanex will be appreciative of us if we take care to leave them a social infrastructure that is efficient, safe and resistant against invasion and coup attempts.”
The Dwarf brothers gave each other a chivalric embrace, glad that both of them had escaped infliction of serious injury during the fight with Fafnir. They headed to Reorx’ Temple at the center of the besieged city to consult and assist the Thanes in their application of proper Dwarven burial rites for the fallen.
That night Oxholm was approached by a Duergar Captain. The soldier, like many of his Tribe, had a black beard and wore a battle mask attached to the front of his helmet. This he lifted to reveal his face as he addressed the renowned fighter as he was meditating in Reorx’ Temple.
“Oxholm, I’m sorry to bother you at this tense time. My name is Danzig. I hearken from the Duergar settlement on the northernmost Arkadian peaks. My Thanes have informed me that you encountered a Duergar mercenary when conducting reconnaissance in the goblin network.”
“That is true, Danzig,” answered Oxholm.
The Maegar Dwarf shook hands with the newcomer.
“I arrived at Minas Thanex just before the battle with the goblins and magma wyrm began. There was no time to speak or consult with my Duergar Thanes here in this settlement.
“Now that this place has been temporarily secured from attack I have had time to discuss the issue of the Duergar mercenary’s identity.
“His name is Otto. He is a queer fellow and was expunged from our meager settlement some months ago for deviating from set mining strategies. He insisted on delving deep into the rock, claiming that a mysterious magical force was beckoning for him to do so.
“My people attempted at first, to accommodate his requests and dug some preliminary shafts deep into the granite and pumice of our mountain. It was not enough to assuage his drive to go deeper and deeper into the rock.
“Otto didn’t seem concerned with normal mining, in the sense that we needed ore for iron and steel, gold and silver for trade and jewels for weapons and commerce. He insisted that he hearken the commands of the magical force that only he seemed to perceive.
“Things got worse when he attempted to delegate other Dwarves to use our limited resources to drill far into the Under Earth.
“Our Duergar Thanes ordered him to desist but Otto refused. Thus he was kicked out of our settlement, which is a painful thing for any Dwarf to do to his kin.
“When I heard of the architecture in the Goblin mines that resembled cross-cutting and deep scaling that we Duergar have employed, I immediately suspected that Otto had defected to a position of command over a goblin mining team.”
“That sounds like a reasonable deduction, friend Danzig,” replied Oxholm. “We were baffled by his presence among the orc shamans and gorgons at the goblin meeting.
“It seems he has a particular sensitivity to the presence of ember. As does Fafnir himself. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he reached a bargain with the ancient dragon to mine and use the ember as currency in the Goblin strongholds.
“Unfortunately I too have gotten close to clusters and lodes of ember. It is a powerful magical artifact that can channel the intentions of the bearer be they Chaotic or Lawful. This philosophy of magnification could easily be applied to weapons and armor used against our miners and citizens.
“It is good that you have come forward and approached me, Danzig. We should consult with the Thanes and Dwarf Council as soon as we can. They, too, will be glad to learn of the identity of Otto and will have the opportunity to prescribe a more educated plan for securing the magical substance in a way that does not empower those who would conquer us or enhance the energy and horde of the magma dragon below.”
Danzig smiled and nodded his acceptance of Oxholm’s idea of talking with the Thanes of Minas Thanex.
Thunder Alley was one of the few edifices to survive Fafnir’s destruction. The pair went there and shared a round of Brent’s ale until it was time for the Thanes and Dwarf Council to commence their daily meeting.
Once the Thanes, Hrothgar and the other elders of Umbria and Minas Thanex proceeded into Reorx’ Temple, Oxholm and Danzig marched inside.
The known warrior introduced the Duergar visitor and allowed him to reiterate his story of the rogue engineer. Like Oxholm, the Thanes and council were appreciative of the supplemental information. It explained much about the sturdy and masterful construction of the Goblin mines.
The leaders of the community took some moments to convene in private then emerged into the main chamber of the temple. Hrothgar was the first to publicly respond to Otto’s story.
“We are gladdened to learn of the identity of this elusive Dwarf. Although the Dwarves of Umbria and Minas Thanex have much reconstruction to do on the foundations of this settlement, we would all feel more secure if you, Oxholm, Drumtone, Baldur and Danzig were to seek out Otto in the Goblin network.
“See if you can convince him to return to us and team-up with our advance engineers. We can offer him a house in Minas Thanex and a group of miners to assist him. At this juncture it would be useful to have a delegation that focuses on the depths. We have an extant interest in the ember and would be grateful for Otto’s knowledge of the substance.
“Be careful, though, Oxholm,” said Hrothgar, “because Otto may still be bitter about his expulsion from his Duergar community and may yet feel unappreciated and misunderstood.
“Hence be on your guard when you approach him…if he is to be found at all.”
Oxholm and Danzig nodded their agreement with the assignment and marched from Reorx’ Temple to contact Drumtone and Baldur.
This they did and the team of experienced fighters and spelunkers set out with full travel packs and weapons within an hour.
As they marched through the gates to the mines each of the warriors looked back at their city under construction. They hoped it would not be rendered into pieces again and wished to return to see it as it was intended to be in the minds of the Dwarves.
The tunnels were dark and had been laid waste by Fafnir’s passage. Oxholm opened his travel pack and took out his tinder box. He ignited a bunch of torches and distributed them to his friends.
The pillars and braces were gone and the cobblestones were torn from the ground under the weight of the magma wyrm. Piles of rock partially blocked the main tunnel where the roof had given way. It would take weeks for the miners to restore the halls to their previous degree of sophistication.
The armored fighters moved on and their trek was arduous and slow-going. They made their way through cave-ins and rock slides. Oxholm and Drumtone were saddened to find the remains of the Dwarf vanguard among slaughtered gorgons and Goblins.
“These soldiers fought valiantly,” said Baldur. “They bought us much needed time to prepare our defenses. They will be given full honor and laid to rest properly.”
“It would be wise to construct a mausoleum dedicated to our fallen comrades,” replied Drumtone.
“That sounds just,” Danzig stated.
After several hours the travelers reached the remnants of the first way-station. Additional bodies were strewn about, crushed in the wake of the angry dragon.
The Dwarves paused to line up the deceased and cover them with their cloaks. They laid the soldiers’ weapons of choice on them and took some moments to meditate on their passage to the forge of Reorx.
The path grew continually difficult. Cascades of water, previously contained in sluice lines and aqueducts flowed randomly down elevator shafts and rifts in the Under Earth.
At times the piles of loose stone blocked the shredded tunnels entirely and the Dwarves were forced to use their pickaxes and shovels to clear a viable route.
The fighters passed the second way-station and entered the raw granite and shale of the advance mines. Drumtone saw pieces of rock-like flesh that had been shed by the wyrm as he rushed toward Minas Thanex.
Each of the warriors grew fatigued from their journey but they pushed on. They reached the breach accessing the goblin mines and entered cautiously.
There was no sign of the Goblins in the initial caverns and Oxholm led his group deeper within.
The party of fighters again reached the chamber with the large waterfall and lake. It, too, was vacant. They entered the arched portal at the opposite end and began the march toward the Goblin city.
Ember glittered everywhere as the Dwarves walked. They took care to don their travel cloaks and battle masks. None of them wished to engage their enemies of the recent past before parlaying.
After another hour’s journey they reached the edge of the city of the Goblin miners. Purple and blue towers shone several hundred feet within the vast cavern. Tree-sized mushrooms grew in several groves and in many dark places. They glowed along with the omnipresent fungus and lichen.
Oxholm and Drumtone stuck with their comrades to the outer wall of the settlement. None of them wanted to raise an alarm among the hostile humanoids.
Danzig, who had not been to the strange place before, whispered to his friends.
“This city is eerie. Clearly it has been constructed under the power and guidance of the ember stones. The magical material shines within the bricks and mortar of the towers that stand before us. We must seek Otto and determine the extent of the ember’s potential.”
Danger was ubiquitous and the Dwarves took great precautions to keep their presence unknown to the Goblins and Harad Ghul. The travelers crept under a cluster of giant mushrooms and watched the commerce of the alien population for several minutes.
“Look, there, at that temple!” hissed Baldur.
The Dwarves turned their heads in the direction that their companion pointed. At the base of a violet and red temple a Duergar mercenary spoke with a group of Harad Ghul Orcs and Goblin shamans.
Like Danzig he had a black beard and deep-set eyes. He spoke in hushed tones with a pair of Harad Ghul assassins.
“Quickly, Dwarves,” said Oxholm. “Now is our chance to approach him!”
The party of warriors rose to their feet and emerged from their hiding place among the mushrooms. The walked quickly toward the temple in question, not giving random Goblins time to identify their cloaked and masked forms.
At last they reached Otto and his suspicious companions. Danzig reached for his weapon but Drumtone gestured for him to be still.
“A word with you, friend Dwarf, if you please,” bellowed Oxholm.
Otto turned to the Dwarf’s voice and his eyes widened as he recognized the Maegar fashion of Oxholm’s battle mask.
“Dwarves? Here, in the Under Earth? No wonder Fafnir has been on the rampage!”
“Dwarves!” cried one of the Harad Ghul.
The tall, red-cloaked Orc drew his scimitar as did his companions. Neighboring Goblins called out through the streets and hordes of them came armed and running to aid their apparent leaders. The Orc shamans prepared defensive incantations.
“Please!” cried Oxholm. “We are not here to fight. We have come to parlay with you and petition your counsel, Duergar engineer.”
Otto signaled the Harad Ghul and Goblins to lower their weapons.
“With your permission, my friends, allow me to speak with my kin.”
The Goblins and Orcs growled with ancient hatred then, slowly, sheathed their blades.
“We understand that you have a special rapport with the ember that surrounds us, Otto” said Oxholm. “I am Oxholm of the Maegar Tribe. This is my brother, Drumtone. Next to him stands Baldur of the Urdar tribe and Danzig of your Duergar Tribe.
“We have come to petition your assistance in mining and processing this mysterious, magical substance. It clearly has great potential and is coveted by a number of entities in the Arkadian Mountian Range, not all of them tolerant of our settlements.
“I have been authorized by our Thanes and Dwarf Council to offer you a home in our great city of Minas Thanex. If you are willing to cooperate with us I’m sure that you will be greatly compensated.”
“I’m not interested, Oxholm,” replied Otto. “My people had their chance to partake of the ember that called to me. They turned me away into the wilderness, friendless and without protection. I owe them nothing. The ember is ours, now, and we are under the protection of Fafnir. If you wish to arrange a mining contract in the Under Earth you should speak with him. He is the force to be reckoned with in these parts.”
“We have dealt with Fafnir, Otto,” answered Drumtone. “The dragon will not emerge from his fiery lair for some time. He attacked our settlement after we turned him down. We wounded him severely in the battle that ensued. His offer to take half of our ember and artifacts was not acceptable.”
“Ah, well,” sighed Otto. “That is the cost of commerce it seems. The ember is indeed potent and is a suitable currency for us, here. Perhaps Fafnir holds a grudge against our race.”
“He certainly, does,” answered Danzig. “Otto, you know me. We didn’t understand what you were getting at on our mountaintop. Your connection to the ember is a blessing. Accept the apology of the Duergar Thanes. We can help. It is clear that the ember is an essential element of the symbiotic ecosystem in the Under Earth. It must be managed and analyzed properly. Our Dwarven craftsmen and jewelers are capable of doing the job. Let us help. We beseech you.”
“Alright, Danzig,” grumbled Otto. “I’ll think about it. This is hardly the place to make a deal with Dwarves, though, as you are well-aware.
“Fafnir sleeps. I sense that now. Perhaps he is greedy. I will visit your city. Await my arrival. I have business that I must take care of first. We will meet again.”
Otto shook hands with the visiting Dwarves and they parted company. The surrounding Goblins and Orcs cleared a path for the foreigners to exit. Many of them uttered oaths of animosity toward them but they fell on deaf ears.
Oxholm and his companions reached the tunnel returning to the breach in the rock. He let out a sigh of relief.
“That went better than I expected, fellows. More bloodshed would not have been welcomed by me after what our people just went through.”
“Yes, brother,” replied Drumtone. “Reorx smiles on us. Let us hasten to Minas Thanex and inform the Thanes and council of Otto’s reply. They await our speedy return.”
The warriors traveled without rest for several hours. Their torches extinguished and they lit fresh ones.
Danzig marveled at the presence of the ember in the goblin mines.
“I regret our past rejection of Otto’s plan. It is clear to me, now, that the ember will prove a valuable asset to all Dwarves. We are sure to benefit from Otto’s experience with the luminescent crystals. Let us hope the Thanes aid us in welcoming him into our fold.”
The travelers hiked past chamber with the cascade and large lake. They soon reached the breach in the rock and began the return trip to Minas Thanex.
As the Dwarves made the return trip through the disheveled mines they were surprised to see that the bodies of the fallen had been retrieved.
Many changes had been put into place upon the negotiators’ arrival at Minas Thanex. Much of the ore and sand that was dropped on Fafnir had been cleared. Other rubble and the remnants of crushed buildings were hauled away.
Oxholm led his group directly to Reorx’ Temple to consult with the Thanes. The spiritual leaders of the Dwarves were present among the colonnades of the elaborate structure as was Hrothgar and a number of council members.
The travelers reported on their meeting with Otto and requested that preparations be made for his arrival.
Hrothgar was the first to speak.
“Our hearts are lightened to hear this news, Oxholm! We will happily welcome Otto back into the bosom of our city. His knowledge will prove an invaluable asset to our mining projects.
“You brave Dwarfs have our gratitude for your endeavors. You are to be commended.”
Hrothgar shook hands with the four journeyers. He escorted them to Thunder Alley to share the news with Brent and the patrons of the tavern.
Less than a week passed and initial redevelopment had begun on the structures of Minas Thanex. Scaffolding and frames were erected and carpenters and smiths worked overtime to finish their jobs.
Funeral pyres were assembled atop the Arkadian Mountain Range at the nuclei of the respective Tribes. The Dwarves honored their dead and began work on a mausoleum at the edge of the subterranean city to store their ashes and record their valor.
Captain Rygar, the chief of security for Minas Thanex, was manning the watchtower to the repaired gate to the mines when someone pounded on the smaller access portal within the massive doors.
Rygar descended from the tower and answered the knocking at the gates.
“Who goes there?”
“It’s me, Otto, of the Duergar Tribe. I have returned.”
“Otto! We’ve been expecting you. It’s good to make your acquaintance. I am Captain Rygar.”
Rygar opened the portal and shook the hand of the new arrival. He helped the Dwarf to enter and took him by the shoulder.
Otto carried a large travel pack replete with scrolls and mining tools. He huffed under the weight of his burden as he was guided by the Captain.
“It took me some time to collect my notes and blueprints. I didn’t want the Harad Ghul to know that I intended to leave their settlement for good.
“I left the goblin city under the auspices of conducting a surveying mission in the deep ember mines. By this time they must have realized that I defected. They may be upset.”
“Don’t worry about it, friend Duergar. You are home now. We are building a house in your honor. It is nearly complete. Let us go to Reorx’ Temple. The Thanes and council requested I take you to them upon your arrival.”
Otto nodded his consent and followed the lead of Rygar to the Temple. The Thanes had received word of the approach of the pair and greeted them at the entrance.
Oxholm, Drumtone and Danzig were soon to arrive, as did Hrothgar and other council members.
Many of them patted Otto on the back in appreciation of his exodus from the goblin city.
A lengthy meeting ensued. Otto recounted his experience with the process of mining and refining the ember. He shared his blueprints with the Dwarves present and they all gazed at the designs intently.
At last Hrothgar addressed the Duergar engineer.
“Thank Reorx that you have come back to us, Otto. We are strengthened by your presence and hope you find your house satisfactory.
“We are in need of your knowledge and will gladly compensate you for it. Please consult with our advance miners and help them to delve deep into the Under Earth. The Dwarves of Minas Thanex have begun plans to use the crystalline substance to augment our weapons, armor and coins. It’s good to have you back.”
The leader of the Dwarf Council took the Duergar in a chivalrous embrace. All present applauded their approval.
Over the following days Otto soon settled into his new surroundings. He expressed his relief to be among his kin once again. He went so far as to begin a casual relationship with one of the matrons of Thunder Alley, named Bermgarde.
Time passed and the Dwarves rebuilt much of what was lost in Fafnir’s wake. Oxholm and Drumtone took the opportunity to catch up on much-needed rest.
Otto led a team of advance miners to ember-laden lodes a good distance from those tapped by the goblins. They dug deep and found enough ore to keep them busy for several years.
It was then that rumors began to spread from Umbria and the outlying settlements on the surface of the Arkadian Mountains.
Lykanthros and dire wolves had returned. Maegar settlers reported of a massive Lykanthros demigod called Fenrir who led the canine beasts in organized invasions.
Once hearing the news Oxholm addressed Drumtone.
“Brother, it appears there is trouble for the Maegar in Umbria. Our settlements there are new and underdeveloped. Hence we should act if the security of the region on the surface is to be preserved.”
“Yes, Oxholm,” replied Drumtone. “Let us venture out of the caverns of Minas Thanex and survey the damage of these returning wolf beasts. It has been long enough since we checked on our construction projects in Umbria.”
The pair of Dwarves bade farewell to their companions and exited from the subterranean city. Security had been boosted at the large gates to the outside. Word had spread far and wide of the battle with Fafnir.
The eyes of the Dwarven guards occupying the trio of watchtowers were round with apprehension. They clearly hoped the occupants of the city within would not need to stage a hasty escape.
Oxholm and Drumtone descended from the steep hills and followed a well-worn trail down, over the knolls and berms. Soon the pines and oaks of the Arkadian forest again grew large.
The Dwarves continued on their path for some time and they again marveled at the cascades and wildflowers that occurred naturally at their high altitude.
At last the pair of warriors reached a clearing in the trees and beheld their objective.
The settlement of Umbria had grown during their time underground. Numerous longhouses and meeting halls extended from the center of the Maegar town.
Herds of sheep and ponies grazed in pastures. Dwarf children played among the haystacks. Adults hastened to harvest grain in several fields while others chopped lumber for construction and firewood.
The mood of the Maegar settlement was somber. Many Dwarves looked about cautiously, having received reports of Fafnir, the wolf-beast, and his cohorts.
Oxholm and Drumtone marched to the center of town and the regional council chamber where they had met previously with Hrothgar and his companions. Many council members were absent due to the need to defend Minas Thanex. A handful remained, however, along with a small gathering of Maegar Thanes.
The council chamber was modest in comparison to the elaborate colonnades of Reorx’ Temple in the subterranean city. It was a sturdy building made of oak planks and beams.
A pair of Thanes meditated among burning coffers of incense at the center of the structure. They turned to greet the returning Maegar heroes.
A grizened Dwarf embraced the pair. His name was Thrain.
“Oxholm, Drumtone! Welcome back to the Maegar settlement in Umbria. Much has happened since you left our modest chamber. We are glad to hear of the successful defense of Minas Thanex from the attack of the magma wyrm. It is unfortunate that, just as Fafnir was turned, next emerged Fenrir. Reports from the outlying population indicate that he is directing packs of dire wolves and random Lykanthros in organized skirmishes with many Dwarven villages.
“As of yet no Maegar have been seriously hurt. But the frequency of the invasions is increasing at an exponential rate. Please, help us,” asked Thrain.
“We certainly will,” replied Drumtone. “Allow us to check on our longhouses and we will travel to the outskirts of Umbria directly from there.”
“Thank you, heroes,” said Thrain. “May Reorx guide you and keep you safe.”
The brothers had stockpiled fresh supplies in their respective longhouses. Although neither of them had taken a bride they were of suitable age.
Their homes proved intact and were free of the wolves’ markings. The warriors filled their packs with fresh torches and hard tack, smoked meat and drinking water. The warriors strapped their weapons to their belts and set forth through the pines toward Umbria’s border with the forests of Mystic Down.
The trees grew tall and their foliage cast lengthy shadows over the rolling hills. Mystic Down was some way off and the brothers relied on their internal sense of direction to navigate a path through the underbrush.
Owls and ravens called out from perches in the expansive canopy. And the markings of foxes and badgers followed narrow trails through the ivy and bushes.
The earth continued to descend and after several hours’ hike the Dwarves noticed the trees becoming sparse once again. Pockets opened in the pines and oaks and Drumtone was able to look out, beyond the foothills.
Mystic Down lay in the spacious valley and Lord Taliesin’s tower formed an angular silhouette on the horizon.
The brothers were heartened to see the stronghold of their longtime friend. They quickened their pace and marched down into the valley. The midday sun had passed its zenith and the shadows of the rocks and foliage began to lengthen.
Sporadic howls echoed over the knolls and at once the birds and squirrels grew silent and cautious.
Oxholm whispered to Drumtone.
“We should proceed with care, brother. Those cries are feral in nature. We may be waylaid by the notorious Lykanthros and their rumored leader. It seems the wolf-beasts have reorganized themselves after their previous dispersion.”
The Dwarf warriors checked their weapons and hastened onward. Despite their desire to avoid detection the howls of large predators grew closer. The Maegar siblings reached a clearing in the undergrowth. It was a field covered with wildflowers and tall grass.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it across this vale ahead of the wolves,” declared Oxholm. “Let us find a patch of high ground and build a fire while time is on our side.”
“I concur, Oxholm,” replied Drumtone. “We must act if we wish to protect ourselves to our utmost faculties.”
The Dwarves found a small outcropping of boulders that was about fifty feet in diameter. They quickly scaled the cluster of rocks and gathered loose brush and brambles into a makeshift fire at the peak.
They lit the pyre with their tinder boxes and a pillar of smoke crept above the tree line. The sun hung low in the sky and it cast a red light over the forest of Mystic Down as it became obscured by a cluster of clouds.
Oxholm scanned the edge of the clearing and the Dwarf saw the flickering glow of his watch-fire reflected by numerous pairs of eyes staring through the dark places among the trees.
The warrior now knew that battle was near and he unhooked his axe from his belt. Drumtone saw his brother’s action and did the same with his hammer.
The Lykanthros charged. The wolf-beasts were voracious. They slavered and howled as they closed the gap between the trees and the high ground of the Dwarves. Dire wolves hurled their bodies through the underbrush in a semi-circle from the forest.
Oxholm and Drumtone bellowed a war cry of their own and their eyes glinted fiercely as they lowered their battle masks. They were ready to die in battle if need be.
The first of the Lykanthros scrambled up the hill to meet the stout humanoids. The brothers rolled apart and arose with weapons flailing. A trio of the hairy, fanged creatures received severe blows from the hammer and axe of the warriors. They fell back on the grade and rolled to the field below.
The space opened by the fallen Lykanthros was quickly filled by others of their number who hungered for living flesh. They too were bludgeoned by the ready Dwarves who knew the swamping tactics of their opponents well.
The dire wolves were mindless with the drive of some arcane force. Their eyes flared with green light and their teeth sparkled with electricity as they drove up the berm. They met the Dwarf brothers in a cluster of claws and muscle.
The fighters used their armor to deflect the slashing of the invaders then turned to slam their frames with their hardened steel weapons. Again the attackers were tossed from the hill while the fire blazed into the night.
It was then that an unrecognizable yell pierced the trees. All of the combatants paused and turned toward the source of the battle cry. Lord Taliesin emerged through the trees. He led a group of trained wolves armored with leather and spikes. They saw the light and smoke of the Dwarves’ fire and hastened to intercept them before it was too late.
The Troll Lord rode an armored Clydesdale warhorse. He hoisted a steel-tipped lance with one arm and his dragon sword with the other. He spurred his mount into full charge and targeted the gathering of furry beasts surrounding Oxholm and Drumtone.
The sound of his lance’s impact reverberated through the oaks and pines of the outskirts of Mystic Down. Dire wolves and Lykanthros alike were tossed high and flipped from their grappling positions around the Dwarves. A pair of the rogue wolves were run-through by the piercing spear and canine blood splattered on the tall grass. Taliesin did not stop and hacked as he passed with his enchanted sword, severing additional heads and limbs as his horse turned for another pass.
The wolves of Taliesin’s stronghold tackled the hostile dire wolves in a feral melee.
The brothers cheered at the arrival of their longtime friend and doubled their efforts to deflect the murderous intentions of the denizens of the wold. They hewed into the startled Lykanthros, focusing on the vulnerable legs of the wolf-beasts. The sound of ripping sinew and cracking bones filled the air.
Suddenly a hideous cackle shook the pines. The sound of breaking boughs and snapping tree trunks emerged from the entrance point taken by the wolves.
Trees shook and fell as a massive force approached.
“Rrargh! I am Fenrir! My brother has been wounded by you meddlesome Dwarves. You should never have dug into the mountains of Arkadia. The ember stones harness a power beyond your ken. The deep wyrms are awake, now, and will not be pleased with the interruption of their ancient slumber. They answer to none but the nether gods of chaos. The lattice-work of spatial planes within the helix governing the worlds of Gaea and the others is not to be toyed with by mere mortals. You are fools.
“Thoth and Tiamat were but a test. I have been sent to clean up their failed gambit as have the wyrms in the deep mountains. You have started a Planar War in your greed and machinations. Now face your fate!”
The last line of trees snapped and a massive, behemoth Lykanthros stomped onto the edge the battlefield. The feral humanoid was mountainous and blocked the light of the rising moons as he let out a deafening howl. Fenrir dropped to all fours and made his way toward the Dwarf Lords.
Taliesin’s wolves were the first to reposition themselves in the path of the demigod. They attacked the paws and ankles of the beast wholeheartedly but did little to impede the stride of the giant entity. The Troll Lord turned from the fight with the lykanthros on the hill and charged Fenrir with his lance held high.
Fenrir gazed down at the paladin with glowing, crimson eyes. He squatted on his haunches and curled his forelimbs in preparation for a flurry of slashing strikes. When Taliesin’s Clydesdale drew near Fenrir batted the lance aside and prepared to render a crushing blow on the would-be defender of Mystic Down and the Arkadian settlements. The adept warrior was not baffled by the maneuver and used the added proximity to hurl his dragon sword at the tyrannical entity.
The blade, enchanted by the Lore Masters, flared with azure magic as it drew near to the hostile adversary. It pierced Fenrir’s thick skin and became lodged in the belly of the beast.
“Argh! That nettle rankles! Curse you, Taliesin, if that is who you are. Your participation in the foolhardy defenses of the puny Dwarves is duly noted. Your chance to parlay a subordinate role in the new age of chaos is past. Now you will die! Rargh!”
Fenrir pounded down on Taliesin with both, clawed paws and snapped at his form with his colossal maw. The troll dove to the ground and rolled in the grass and dirt yet still the barrage of blows covered his body, pressing his form into the soil. The warrior groaned with pain under the pressure of the demigod.
The behemoth Lykanthros seized the opportunity to hasten the demise of the realm’s guardian and drove his matted shoulders over the fallen knight for another assault.
Time was of the essence, though, and the paladin had given Oxholm and Drumtone enough to come to his aid. The Dwarf brothers leaped to the arcane beasts forelimbs and grappled for purchase, climbing his tangled fur.
Fenrir was distracted by the strategy and lifted his head to snap at the squirming Dwarves. They were quick, though, and scrambled for purchase at the nape of his neck. Before the leader of the lykanthros could shake them off they plunged their weapons deep into his neck.
Fenrir howled in pain as arteries were breached and blood flowed freely in spurts from his flesh.
“That pains me, pesky Dwarves. Your people will pay for your stubborn resistance. Forget a quick death.”
Fenrir rolled in the field, causing the hills to shake and trees break in a swath. The power of the impact was too strong for the Dwarf brothers and they were forced to disengage their weapons from their bloody entrance points.
“I’ll remember this night, fools. You have not seen the last of Fenrir or his followers. We will meet again.”
The behemoth Lykanthros staggered on all fours from the blood-stained clearing and sought the cover of the deep forest. His Dire wolves and Lykanthros were quick to follow their master and gain distance from Taliesin’s armored wolves.
Oxholm and Drumtone gasped for breath as they climbed out of a pile of snapped branches and dirt. They had managed to hold on to their weapons but regretted losing their grip on the giant wolf-beast.
“We are in no condition to pursue the invaders, brother,” huffed Drumtone. “Let us hasten to Lord Taliesin and aid him if at all possible.”
The Dwarf warriors ran to the fresh divots cut into the field by Fenrir’s paws. The liege of Mystic Down lay face down in an impression in the soil. His Clydesdale mount nuzzled him but he did not respond.
“Taliesin, can you hear us? It’s Oxholm and Drumtone of the Maegar Clan,” cried the red-bearded fighter.
The armored paladin moaned and moved his limbs briefly.
“He’s alright!” yelled Drumtone. “Easy, knight. You took quite a blow from that giant wolf.”
The pair of Dwarves gently turned the fallen defender onto his back.
“How do you feel?” queried Oxholm. “Is anything broken?”
“Argh! The dragon sword! It remains in Fenrir. Thank you friend Dwarves. My back is sprained but I think I can walk. If you please, help me to my feet.”
The brothers did as their companion requested and helped him up. Taliesin staggered but remained standing. He leaned against his horse’s saddle for balance.
“I was on patrol for rogue Lykanthros when I saw the pillar of smoke from your fire. Word has spread among the various regions of Gaea of a new wave of dire wolves and wolf-beasts marauding through the villages. I was on the lookout for them when Maegar Dwarves began arriving at my stronghold seeking shelter from the invasions. The power of Fenrir has grown. I have not heard of his brother until tonight. What has been awakened in the deep of the mountains my comrades?”
“The ancient wyrms that tormented our ancestors have been notified of our return to the halls of our fathers. A magma dragon, called Fafnir, sought to usurp the resources mined from lodestones. He has united with the Harad Ghul and Goblins to delve to a substance known as ember. It is a source of mysterious power,” said Oxholm.
“I see,” answered Taliesin.
His face was no longer pallid with shock.
“There are cities in the dark, Liege. Not all of them are sympathetic to the construction of the settlements and tunnels of we Dwarves. Alas, the Thanes in our great city under the mountain did not learn of the ember’s existence until it had been mined extensively by the Harad Ghul and their cohorts.
They were quick to cut deep into the rock. This was done under the guidance of a rogue Dwarf. He was convinced to return to us but the knowledge of the ember was dispersed among the Goblin hordes. Hence we Dwarves are engaged in a race against time itself. The Goblin mines and cities are thriving and the work on the Dwarven mines has just begun.”
“How long before Fafnir and the wyrms emerge from the deep?” asked Taliesin.
“No one knows, brave warrior. Can you help us in this moment of need?” replied Drumtone.
“Yes, but not without the help of some friends,” answered the liege. “It is no longer safe here in the wilderness. Come to my stronghold. There we can consult with my counselors. I’m sure you’ll encounter some familiar faces. Ride with me, now.”
It was clear to Oxholm and Drumtone that the paladin had regained much of his strength. He was a resilient Troll and his fortitude did not surprise the Dwarves. Although wary of the jostling and bouncing of saddles they consented to share Taliesin’s Clydesdale. The Troll pulled them up after mounting and they made their way from the clearing into the trees. The paladin’s loyal wolves followed in silence.
Night was upon the travelers but the light of the twin moons over Gaea made the path ahead discernible to horse and riders alike. They passed through several miles of old-growth forest before reaching the heart of the wooded vale that was Mystic Down.
Soon the trees grew more sporadic and the lights of Taliesin’s principle village, Wood’s End, shone through the mist and fog of night.
“My wolves need sustenance,” declared the Troll Lord. “If you please, friend Dwarves, let us stop at Bard’s Inn where there is food and water. It will benefit your cause to share your story with the patrons therein as well.”
The Dwarf brothers nodded their acceptance of the invitation.
“We could use a tankard of ale.”
“Fulla and Ullr have taken over since Bors’ retirement. She is a ranger and he is a magic-user of some purport.”
“What has become of Sharon Redthorne, Baroness of Coermantyr?”
“Alas, she is with child and has two others that are very young. She is well, however, and holds state over her domain with her Key Mage husband.”
“That is good to hear,” replied Oxholm. “The Baroness is a valiant guardian and I wish her the best in all she does.”
“As do I,” Drumtone added.
The structures of Wood’s End drew near and Lord Taliesin guided his Clydesdale through the narrow streets of the rustic village to the large frame of the boarding house that was Bard’s Inn.
The trio of friends dismounted and tethered the horse and wolves to the hitching post at the side of the establishment. The water trough was full and the thirsty animals drank heartily. The chill of night was upon them and the travelers hastened to shelter from the frigid mist.
The main dining hall of Bard’s Inn had a cheerful ambiance. Many of the diners wore cloaks and hoods and were not recognizable by the returning Dwarves. The inn-keepers were clearly Fulla and Ullr based on Taliesin’s brief description. The man, Ullr, was tall and thin and gazed at the new arrivals with an expression of curiosity. The woman, Fulla, had long, braided blonde hair that she wore over a finely stitched red robe that extended to her ankles. She was remarkably muscular and her limber movements verified Taliesin’s description of her as a ranger. A finely-carved hunting bow and longsword hung on the wall behind the counter. The bow was oiled and strung and the blade glistened with polish and the etchings of sacred runes.
In similar fashion a shelf near the hunting artifacts bore leather-bound tomes and notebooks that gave the impression of having been recently handled and perused. It was clear to the Dwarves that the books belonged to Ullr, the sometime magic-user and student of arcane arts.
“Greetings, Taliesin! How go things in the wild tracts of trees beyond?” asked the male inn-keeper.
“Not so well, Ullr. I found these Dwarves in need of help. They fought a formidable force of Lykanthros and dire wolves driven under the leadership of a giant wolf-beast named Fenrir.”
“Fenrir! I have heard of him,” replied the Troll-woman, Fulla. “Are you fellows alright? The giant wolf must have been a terrible opponent.”
“Aye, tall lady,” said Oxholm. “We gave him a scratch or two but he fled into the deep forest with Taliesin’s dragon sword stuck in his belly.”
“That is bizarre news, friend Dwarf. What new magic impinges upon our lands that this demigod is able to roam freely in our modest spatial plane?”
“It is the same magic that drove the Goblins and assassins with the chaotic dragons against our peoples during the past planar war,” answered Oxholm. “Fenrir is the brother of a magma wyrm named Fafnir. In the construction of a safe haven for the various Dwarven tribes we encountered new minerals and magical crystals embedded deep in the rock. It is ember. It has powered the construction of Goblin cities in the Under Earth ahead of our modest mines. When we sought the source of this ember Fafnir was awakened and made an unfair offer to take half our yield and treasure as tribute. When we refused he went berserk, crushing much of our mines and city before we convinced the giant wyrm to turn. He sleeps now, nursing his wounds, but for how long no one can say.
“Fenrir is Fafnir’s brother and has begun to maraud Maegar villages on the surface of the Arkadian Mountains. Drumtone and I exited our burgeoning city of Minas Thanex to seek him out and thwart him. He is too strong, though, and his wolf-packs numerous. We were lucky that Lord Taliesin found us and lodged his dragon sword in the beast’s torso. The giant Lykanthros turned and fled but not without striking the liege a serious blow with his paws.”
“Well it’s a good thing you made it here in one piece, my friends,” said Fulla.
The sometime ranger brought a tray laden with tankards of ale and hearth bread to the visitors. This they dug into wholeheartedly.
“My husband and I will accompany you on your return journey to your Dwarf kindred,” declared Fulla. “They must know of the destructive capacity of this re-formed Lykanthros horde. With the counsel of your Thanes we may be able to devise a means with which to restrain Fenrir and keep his brother, Fafnir, a safe distance from the populated tunnels of Minas Thanex.”
“I will contact Torvald tonight,” said Ullr. “He will fill in for us as manager and guardian of Bard’s Inn. He has learned much of that capacity from Bors, his father.
“Rest now, stout warriors. All is well. We will depart for Minas Thanex on the morn.”
The Dwarves followed the advice of the Trolls and settled for the night in a modest chamber in the top floor of Bard’s Inn. They slept without interruption and arose rejuvenated and refreshed.
Lord Taliesin met with the warriors as they consumed a brief breakfast in the dining hall.
“Hail, Oxholm and Drumtone! Are you ready to return to your kindred in the mountains?”
“Yes, we are, friend Taliesin,” answered Drumtone. “We are well rested and look forward to sharing the details of our encounter with Fenrir among the Thanes and Dwarf Council.”
Fulla and Ullr were present, as was Torvald, who was prepared to replace them. They chatted with Bors’ son to insure that preparations for the upkeep of the inn were in order.
“I regret that I cannot accompany you on your journey, my friends,” declared Torvald. “I am indebted to my father for his teaching of the facets of running the inn. I owe it to him to make sure that all remains well here since his retirement. I wish you all good fortune on your travels. May The Fates be with you!”
“Thank you, Torvald,” answered Drumtone. “We are grateful for your hospitality. You do your father honor.”
Ullr and Fulla accompanied the troll lord and Dwarves to the hitching post where their horses were watered and packed with supplies. They mounted their steeds and waved goodbye to the villagers as they passed through the streets of Wood’s End.
The farmland and tilled soil soon gave way to the dense underbrush and sporadic trees of the wilderness of Mystic Down. The morning sun shone clearly and there were few clouds in the sky. The cries of ravens and foxes permeated the gentle breeze and the pines and oaks of the forest primeval soon grew numerous.
Fulla and Ullr bore expressions of concern having heard the description of Fenrir’s size and considerable following. They had prepared their respective weapons and incantations in the event of an hostile encounter.
The group of riders continued on for some time without interception. The forest was quiet apart from the sound of the occasional denizen and the horses made good time on the worn trail.
Soon the land inclined upward and the foothills of the Arkadian Mountain Range jutted through the bracken of the wold. The Dwarves were in good spirits as they neared the first of the outlying Maegar settlements.
Arkadia arose from Mystic Down and the first villages of Umbria appeared through the trees and outcroppings of granite and limestone.
“I haven’t seen Dwarves for some time,” said Fulla. “You brothers were the first to visit our establishment in over a year. Word has spread, though, of intense construction projects here in the mountains. My husband and I anticipate surveying the progress of your stronghold firsthand.”
“That is good to hear, Fulla,” answered Oxholm. “I am certain you’ll be impressed by the magnitude and scope of the architecture of Minas Thanex and the mines beyond our hallowed city.”
“As will I, I’m sure,” added Taliesin. “It has been a while since I last visited the settlements of the Dwarves and have also heard good things about the progress of the construction in Umbria.”
The travelers paused to enjoy a slight repast and water the horses. The farmland of the Dwarves grew steadily along the road and the group neared the finished longhouses of the reputable siblings.
“We shouldn’t stop, brother,” offered Drumtone. “Our business is urgent and we should meet with the Thanes and Dwarf Council as soon as possible.”
The party passed hastily through the burgeoning structures of the village of Umbria, taking a moment only to wave in greeting to the residents therein. They continued on and then reached the steep mountain path leading to Minas Thanex.
The horses were strong, however, and scaled the angular grade vigorously. Other Maegar and Norgar Dwarves smiled as the strange-looking Trolls approached the nucleus of their population.
The construction since Fafnir’s assault had doubled in intensity and the bronze doors before Minas Thanex were nearly in place. The travelers ventured within the portal to the mountain and beheld the process of repair on the damaged sections of the subterranean metropolis.
Thunder Alley was crowded with patrons and Otto and Bermgarde were swamped with orders for ale and hearth bread. The hungry citizens cleared a path on the cobblestone street so that Oxholm, Drumtone and the Trolls could pass to Reorx’ Temple.
The Thanes had long received notice of the approach of the foreigners and had marched to the front steps of the temple to meet them.
Thrain was among the close-knit group of council members and tribal leaders. He addressed Fulla, Ullr and Taliesin.
“Greetings, friend Trolls! Your reputation precedes you. Welcome to our sacrosanct temple constructed to honor Reorx. Fafnir sleeps but Fenrir is yet on the move. Our resources are at their limit. Repairs are underway to fill the swath of destruction left by the magma wyrm.
“We have held council in expectation of your arrival. We are afraid that you are on your own…”
“That isn’t a problem,” replied Oxholm. “We are prepared for whatever contingencies that may arise.”
Hrothgar was also present among the Thanes and members of the Dwarf Council. He next addressed the newly arrived Trolls and Dwarves from the surface of Gaea.
“We are again gladdened to see you, friend Taliesin, and are certain to benefit from the additional aid of your companions Fulla and Ullr. Our reconstruction projects since Fafnir’s attack are well underway but, as Thrain mentioned, we cannot spare the recruits to deter Fenrir on the surface.
“We are heartened that you have trekked to Minas Thanex to consult with us. We urge you, however, to return to the settlements of Umbria. That is the locus of Fenrir’s wolf pack and his Lykanthros are bound to instill the most destruction on the Dwarf settlements in that region.
“In expectation of your encounter with the giant beast we Dwarves have forged a runic chain to restrain him. It is enchanted with markings etched on the behalf of Reorx by the Thanes. The links are hearty and it took several days for our smiths to bind and coil the steel.
“It will take several ponies to carry the burden of the chain but, if you are able, use it to restrain Fenrir, the demigod.”
“Thank you for the chain and the pack horses, Hrothgar,” replied Oxholm. “We will embark to the surface and seek Fenrir, the wolf giant. It will do us all good if we succeed in employing this chain to restrain him from his attacks. Farewell.”
The Dwarves present in Reorx’ Temple applauded the departing warriors and cleared a path for them. It did not take the travelers long to exit the growing city of Minas Thanex and journey through the massive gates to the surface.
The sun shone brightly and the Dwarves and Trolls were forced to squint until their eyes adjusted to the light. Each of them was interested in locating Fenrir as quickly as possible and they drove their ponies briskly so that they might put distance between them and the central Dwarven stronghold.
Oxholm and Drumtone led their entourage down the grade of the Arkadian Mountain Range. The tall escarpments and surfaces of granite and shale gave way to massive outcroppings of pine and cedar. Cascades continued to plummet from melting snow on the peaks far above. The waterfalls landed in pools lined with flowers and reeds. In turn, they fed streams that ambled through ravines and crags in the forested mountainside.
The warriors did not have time to take in their surroundings, however. Fenrir was on the loose and posed a threat to the security of the various regions of Gaea.
Drumtone led the way as the battle party continued their descent with the chain-bearing ponies in tow. It was slow going under the cumbersome load and the Dwarves took care not to push their steeds too hard.
At last the rocky trail reached a plateau as it coiled down the grade in a serpentine fashion.
“We should build a watch-fire, my friends,” said Ullr. “It will give us light in the event that the wolf beasts attack. In the meantime I will peruse my tomes of magic and prepare some incantations that may assist in hindering the feral demigod.”
“That is a wise suggestion,” replied Oxholm. “Let’s get started.”
There was plenty of dried brush and fallen branches to assemble the fire. The sun began to set in the valley below and mist crept in with the twilight. The Dwarves consumed a hasty meal of smoked meat and dried bread. None of the individuals present wanted to be taken off guard by the rampant marauders.
As the stars appeared in the darkening sky the cries of wolves emanated from the tree-covered foothills. The battle party was ready for such a warning and wielded their weapons quickly.
Fulla was especially prepared and dipped a handful of arrows swabbed with oil into the fire. These she shot in a staggered circle along the perimeter of the plateau. The light of the watch-fire grew bright and shadows danced on the mountainside as the flames grew tall.
The first wave of Lykanthros appeared through the surrounding trees. Their crimson retinas reflected the watch-fire as they charged the group.
“Prepare yourselves, my friends!” Drumtone warned.
The sturdy Dwarf gripped his weapon and lowered the battle mask affixed to his helmet.
Oxholm followed suit and engaged the wolf-beasts in direct combat.
Fulla released flaming arrows from her longbow, dropping three of the wolf-beasts before they reached striking range. The stench of smoldering fur filled the air.
Ullr uttered a magical incantation founded on independent research. He gestured with his hands as he cried out.
Green light coalesced before the Troll magic-user. It intensified and formed a pair of ethereal wolf specters. The ghostly beings growled and contended with the Lykanthros. The luminescent beasts’ fangs were scathing and they bit deep wounds into the marauding force.
The other attackers were not intimidated by the magical maneuver and continued their charge into the united defenders. They clawed and snapped at Oxholm and Drumtone, who were shorter in stature, but did not penetrate the hardened armor of the Dwarves.
In the meantime Lord Taliesin stepped into the fray with a long-sword that replaced his lost dragon sword. The experienced warrior hewed left and right, eliminating several of the wolves from the battle.
Fulla maintained a barrage of arrows, inhibiting a second wave of Lykanthros from racing to the front. She was an adept archer and made each shot count.
Fulla’s shots were accurate and felled several of the charging beasts. As the wounded attackers tumbled in the soil other Lykanthros were tripped up by their flailing bodies. This gave time for Ullr to issue forth another enchantment.
“Solus!” he cried.
The adept magic user gestured with his hands and unleashed a barrage of glowing, silver missiles in a wide swath. The entire wave of Fenrir’s cohorts was impeded by the arcane maneuver.
Fenrir himself was taken by surprise by the Troll’s deft use of magic and howled in exasperation. The massive wolf-beast snapped at the subordinate wolves, urging them to renew their pressure at the front. This the dire wolves did and the Dwarves were ready for the assault.
The warriors spun and wielded their weapons deftly, taking care to protect the ponies. In a matter of moments Oxholm raced to the massive chain and made the early preparations to deploy the device with the intention of restraining the slavering demigod.
The battle intensified and Fenrir grew close to the melee. The giant wolf-beast continued to howl in fury.
“Dwarves and Trolls! You have stung me this fortnight! The infliction yet burns in my flesh. I will take vengeance upon you for this offense and the denial of my brother. Your time has passed. Feel my wrath!”
Fenrir rendered a berserk attack upon the Dwarves and their comrades. The wolf beast was ferocious and snarled as he drove his maw forward. The fangs of the wolf were like spears and their magnitude made them difficult to evade.
Oxholm and Drumtone parried the teeth of Fenrir with their weapons and rendered counter attacks in turn.
The giant beast dodged the counter attack and backed off in order to regroup.
This gave the Dwarf brothers time to deploy their chain. They hefted it, gripping three of the massive links each. The Dwarf warriors signaled the trio of Trolls. They nodded their acceptance of their planned strategy and stepped toward the ominous, feral demigod.
Fulla loaded a pair of notched arrows in her bow.
Ullr prepared a practiced incantation.
Taliesin hefted his massive long-sword.
They attacked Fenrir at once, ignoring the nips and snaps of the lesser wolves.
Fulla’s arrows struck their intended targets making a stunning impact with Fenrir’s brow.
Ullr released his spell, “Strix!”
A glowing, red net of arcane energy snared the bulky invader, wrapping itself around his sinewy shoulders and lumbering paws.
Finally the Troll Lord rendered a powerful swing with his weapon, connecting with Fenrir’s jaw. The weight of the keenly wielded blade knocked the marauder out of consciousness, giving time for the Dwarves to move in.
The sturdy humanoids carried the cumbersome chain to the battle scene. They wrapped the forged steel links around the immense wolf’s neck and secured the ends of the restraint to weighted blocks. These the Trolls and Dwarves hastened to bury in the soil with the hope of further limiting the demigod’s invasive intentions.
Once this was done the team of defenders moved away from the giant beast and he soon regained consciousness.
“Rargh! What is this outrage?”
“We have arrested you, Fenrir!” Oxholm cried.
“Your marauding and swath of destruction has come to an end. We bid you to think on your actions and consider a peaceful existence in the future. Lord Taliesin will extract his dragon sword, now. It will allow the wound to heal.”
The Dwarf gestured for the Liege of Mystic Down to approach. Taliesin did so and felt through Fenrir’s fur until he found the hilt of his enchanted blade. He gripped it firmly and pulled it from the demigod’s flesh.
Fenrir let out a blood-curdling howl of pain then lay silent. He realized the seriousness of his bonds and was resigned to let his injury mend naturally.
The other wolves did not continue their attack of the group of warriors. The majority of the Lykanthros were discouraged by the trapping of their leader and turned from the fray to flee into the woods. What remained of the rogue pack was repelled by the vehement determination of the Dwarves and Trolls along with the renewed pairing of Taliesin with his enchanted dragon sword.
The conflict was over in seconds and the valiant humanoids soon stood alone on the hilltop. The watch-fire continued to burn and the shadows of the trees danced in the depths of the forest.
“We have succeeded, brother!” cried Drumtone. “Fenrir is restrained by the chain of our kin.”
“Indeed, we owe the smiths our thanks for their assistance and ingenuity in our time of need. I doubt that the wolf beasts will soon regroup in the absence of their mountainous leader. It will do the Dwarves good for us to return to Umbria and spread the word of Fenrir’s restraint. We have bought ourselves time with which to determine the next course of action.”
“I am concerned for Fenrir,” said Fulla. “Fafnir is sure to be enraged if his demigod sibling starves. I suggest we leave a shepherd here to raise sheep. A portion of the yield can be fed to the hungry wolf-beast. This will keep him alive until such time that the Dwarves decide upon his fate.”
“That is a salient idea, Troll archer,” replied Oxholm. “We will confer with the Thanes upon our return to Minas Thanex. They will assuredly send a shepherd to set up camp near the chained beast.”
“We should be on our way, friends,” declared Taliesin. “I have retrieved my dragon sword and will thus more adequately defend the Dwarves and Trolls of these regions of Gaea. Although not always ready allies of the Dwarves, my thoughts turn, I confess, to Llewellyn and the Elves of the southern forests. They have come to our aid in recent years and would be grateful to share in the knowledge of the recent tribulations encountered by the Dwarvish people. Perhaps we can stop by their clandestine settlement in the mountains before making our way to Umbria and Minas Thanex.”
“Let us do so, Troll Liege,” answered Drumtone. “It is true that diplomacy between our respective races has not been up to snuff, as it were. Times are changing, however, and we Dwarves are indebted to the Qualinesti for their assistance in turning Thoth and Tiamat. Let us make way to the mountain pass. The pack animals are bound to be swift and sure of foot now that their metallic burden has been removed.”
The group nodded their approval of Drumtone’s statement and made their way from the place where Fenrir growled and snapped at his bonds. The terrain quickly inclined upward and the trees grew massive and dense on the angular mountainside. There was yet no official trail leading to the habitat of the Qualinesti Elves. Their culture was reclusive and xenophobic. They did not readily leave invitations to wayward travelers and curious visitors.
Oxholm and Taliesin both remembered the orientation and positioning of Llewellyn’s hidden valley. They led their sizable entourage through the granite boulders and jutting pine and juniper of the Arkadian mountain range.
After several hours they reached the summit within a narrow pass. The sun hung low in the sky and a smattering of clouds pockmarked the horizon. Oxholm gazed intently into the valley beyond. Mist or smoke obscured the canopy and made it difficult to perceive the unique pinnacles and minarets of the principle settlement of the Qualinesti.
“I don’t see Llewellyn’s city from here,” stated Drumtone. “My suspicions are that the elves are near, though.”
“Indeed, friend Dwarf,” breathed Ullr. “My faculties of perception virtually tingle with the proximity of Elvish auras. Let us remain alert for they are protective of the secrets of their population. If taken by surprise they may attack before our identities are recognized.”
Rivers flowed down into the valley from the snow-capped peaks, irrigating ferns and cattails on their banks. The songs of frogs and toads rose from the tide-pools and the movement of freshwater fish was discernible below the surface.
At last voices emerged from the wavering depths of the nearby oaks and pines. The trees grew tall and ancient and their extensive branches easily hid the sources of the strange, Elvish speech.
“Intruders! State your business here quickly if you wish to live. These woods are sacred and powerful.”
“Qualinesti! We cannot see you but recognize your tone,” hollered the Troll Lord. “It is I, Taliesin. My companions and I have returned to your hallowed city with strange news. We seek the counsel of Llewellyn, your aged leader. Is he near?”
“No, Taliesin,” replied the Elvish voice. “But he knows of your approach. We recognize you now, famed Liege, although your choice of companionship is questionable, to say the least.”
“No need to cast aspersions, Mr. Elf,” grunted Oxholm. “We Dwarves are here on peaceful business and have only thought to share details of our recent battles with your leader. You can see us but we cannot see you. Show yourself, if you possess the courage.”
The Qualinesti Elves responded to the request by quickly scaling down the giant trees. They were tall and slender and wore dark, tight-fitting clothing. These garments kept the elves camouflaged in the subdued light beneath the sprawling canopy of the forested valley.
An Elvish Captain, clearly the leader of the group, approached Taliesin first and shook hands in greeting. He next bowed to the Dwarves and other Trolls in the group.
“Salutations! I am Silvermoon. Welcome to our valley. We trust you Dwarves will remain on your best behavior. I will take you to our stronghold and an audience with Llewellyn.”
“Thank you, Silvermoon,” replied Oxholm. “My brother and I promise to mind our manners. Much has occurred since we last visited with your principle leader. We look forward to speaking with him.”
The visitors followed the direction of the Elf Captain through the unmarked woods. His knowledge of the terrain was ancient and he marched on quickly through the brush and trunks of the forest.
Oxholm soon noticed openings in the wilderness and sensed an aged power emanating from the direction Silvermoon followed. The alabaster towers and minarets of the central settlement of the Qualinesti Elves emerged over the treetops.
Despite their familiarity with the structures the visitors were yet taken in awe by the centuries and generations of construction manifested by the architecture before them.
Rivers continued to flow through the city and arching bridges stood over them, allowing visitors and residents to pass.
The Elves that the traveling party saw were aloof and clearly had received word of the foreigners’ approach for some time.
Fulla, being new to the area, waved in greeting from her mount. Most of the Elves did not deviate from their existing tasks and only a few paused to stare at the Troll archer with dour expressions.
Silvermoon continued on the path which crossed a number of bridges and ascended several flights of stairs. These led to the network of cogs and gears that operated the system of elevators accessing the higher towers.
The Elf Captain gestured for his companions to dismount and tether their steeds to the watering troughs nearby. The humanoids then entered a set of elevators attached to a system of ropes and cords that reached up into the trees, beyond their field of vision.
The system of pulleys and wheels was powered by a team of horses that were rested and well-trained. They pushed against their yokes under the guidance of their handler and the mobile platforms were whisked into the canopy, leaving the ground far behind.
At last the elevators met with a loading platform built onto a set of immense branches. The travelers disembarked and again followed Silvermoon and his fellow Elves over several suspension bridges to the main tower of the Qualinesti civilization.
The sound of birds and squirrels echoed through the boughs as Oxholm and Taliesin led their entourage to a single, alabaster fortification supported by several massive oaks.
A tall, robed Elf with graying hair and pointed ears stood at the arching doorway of the high structure. He descended the steps at the portal and approached Silvermoon.
“Thank you, Captain, for conducting my friends here safely. You do the Qualinesti honor.”
“You’re welcome, Llewellyn. I will leave these Dwarves and Trolls in your charge.”
The Qualinesti and his patrol bowed and made their way back to the system of elevators and the ground below.
Llewellyn turned to Oxholm and Taliesin.
“My companions! It has been some years since our last meeting. Welcome to our stronghold once again.”
“Thank you, Elf leader,” replied Oxholm. “Many things have taken place since our last meeting.”
The Dwarf took some time to recant the story of the development of Minas Thanex, the encounter with the ember and Fafnir, and the struggle with Fenrir.
Llewellyn’s brow furrowed with concern and he paused to think before he spoke.
“You bear fascinating news, Oxholm. I commend you and your people for your endeavors and courageous defense of your holdings. If only we Qualinesti had known sooner of your predicaments we would have come to your aid promptly.
“The movements of the demigods below and above the massive caverns of the Under Earth indicate that the mandala of the planar helix is yet in a state of flux. Gaea continues to exist as a stage for ethereal and ephemeral forces that have clashed for eons. The demigod siblings Fafnir and Fenrir are known to we Elves and their names are recorded in our ancient records. This was much the case for the massive dragons Thoth and Tiamat repelled during our previous alliance.
“My thoughts return to the others in our past battle party, namely, Siegemunde and Restadicus. The wizards, who are founding members of the Lore Masters, may indeed possess supplemental knowledge in regard to the apparently spiraling increase of turmoil within the helix.”
What is going on in this place? Llewellyn wondered. Magic has not flowed through the realm to this degree since my youth. The titans and demigods are abounding and are seemingly unfettered in their marauding and tapping of the resources of the natural races of this Plane.
We must consult with the Lore Masters if the escalating invasions and awakenings of the titans are to be halted. We need knowledge of the latticework of the planes. From whence do these forces come? Who is behind all this?
“With your permission, Dwarf leader, I will accompany you to Coermantyr. I wish to consult with the Lore Masters personally.”
“Very well, Elf leader,” replied Oxholm. “We will wait for you to prepare for this imminent journey. It will do all of us good to confer with Restadicus once more.”
The visiting Dwarves and Trolls nodded their agreement. The group returned from whence they came and retrieved their horses at the edge of the Qualinesti stronhold. In less than an hour Llewellyn appeared and mounted a well-trained, gray stallion.
The motley collection of travelers followed the Elf’s lead. He knew the quickest path through the Arkadian Mountains and the humanoids soon found themselves in the foothills before Mystic Down.
The sun hung low in the sky but none of the friends wanted to set camp. Each of them was concerned by the encounters with Fafnir and Fenrir.
The horses were sturdy and did not startle amid the occasional howls of wolves and cries ravens in the deep woods. The light of the twin moons of Gaea shone in rays through the forest canopy and the steeds navigated quickly through the masses of oak and pine trees.
Taliesin knew of the easiest route to the region of Coermantyr. The others followed his lead as he guided his Clydesdale through the dense underbrush.
By midnight the entourage reached the edge of Baroness Sharon’s land. All was quiet in the nighttime forest of Coermantyr. The travelers continued to rely on the light of the two moons to illuminate their path.
The forest changed as Oxholm and Drumtone made their way forward. The terrain was higher and laden with hills in comparison with the low valley of Mystic Down.
Fulla and Ullr marveled at the massive growth of spruce and elm trees that prospered at their altitude.
“We’ve heard of The Wolf’s Fang Inn here in the western forest,” Fulla declared. “The inn-keeper, Gilead, was friends with Bors, Torvald’s father. Perhaps he has collected information of the recent activity of the infamous demigods’ rampage.”
“Let us hope that is the case, Fulla,” stated Taliesin. “I’m sure that Gilead and the Baroness have had their hands full raising their children. Let us maintain our pace. We should reach The Wolf’s Fang and the towers of Coermantyr Castle in an hour.”
In accordance with Taliesin’s estimate the battle party soon arrived at the clearing in the trees where the inn and castle stood.
Each of the riders tethered his mount and pack horses to the hitching post of The Wolf’s Fang. The lights of the reputable establishment shone through the square window panes above the wooden porch.
Fulla and Ullr, being experienced with the workings of inns, were the first to scrape their boots clean and enter the main doorway.
The Dwarves and Trolls were quick to follow.
The groups of patrons and diners turned from their seats to ogle the variegated cluster of new arrivals.
To Taliesin’s surprise the barkeep was none other than Gilead, the Key Mage of Coermantyr. The Troll Lord extended his hand to his longtime friend and Gilead did the same. They shook hands energetically.
“Taliesin! Its good to see you. You’ve come with friends I see. Much is afoot of late. Rumors are abounding in this part of the woods. I’ve heard talk of giant creatures emerging from ancient places as well as a crystalline substance of some arcane value. My patrons call it ember.”
“Your information is accurate, Gilead,” replied the liege of Mystic Down. “My Dwarf friends here can vouch for that.”
Taliesin turned to his companions and introduced them by name to the Key Mage.
Gilead nodded in greeting to each of them.
“I recognize you, Oxholm and Drumtone. Clearly much has happened since you were last here. We will get your full synopsis of the situation at hand in Gaea before the night is through.”
“Welcome to Coermantyr, good Dwarves and Trolls! I regret that my wife is not here. She is with child and has two others that are wily as squirrels.”
“Excuse me,” rumbled one of the regular patrons of The Wolf’s Fang. “With your consent, visitors, please allow me to introduce myself.”
The individual in question was a tall, middle-aged troll with a patch over his left eye.
“My name is Tyr. I am a shepherd. Word has reached these parts that the canine brother of the dragon tyrant has been restrained by an enchanted, Dwarven chain. If this is truly the case then I’d like to volunteer my expertise in animal husbandry to keep the demigod fed. I have sheep to spare, of course, and it would be prudent to keep the giant wolf from starving to death. It is never wise to anger the gods, regardless of their destructive behavior.”
“Your sources of information are correct, Tyr,” replied Oxholm. “News travels fast in these woods, it seems. Your offer is a serious one. Fenrir is a burden to the natural residents of this plane of existence. It is true, though, that the demigod should not be killed, despite his marauding agenda. None of us want the wrath of the gods and that of Fenrir’s progenitor, raining down on us.
“Go to the ensnared beast. He remains chained near one of the peaks of the Arkadian Mountain Range. He must hunger by now and will surely feast on your allotment of sheep if given the opportunity. Take care, though, for Fenrir is a trickster and would feign submission when in fact he is evaluating his predicament for vulnerabilities.”
“Thank you for the advice, Oxhom,” Tyr replied. “I will be careful with the great Lykanthros. I must hurry so that I may gather my herd and set forth under the light of the moons. I plan to reach Fenrir by sundown tomorrow.
“Good luck to you all! I hope you visit the Baroness soon in her castle and exchange information there. As you may recall, Restadicus and his Lore Masters hold office in the inner sanctum of Sharon’s stronghold. They will surely find the cause of the emergence of the monstrous titans in recent months. Until we meet again, farewell.”
Tyr shook hands with each of the visitors and strode out of The Wolf’s Fang to drive his herd east.
Drumtone was the next to speak.
“We should be on our way as well, my friends. I am anxious to see the Baroness, Restadicus and the Lore Masters in the light of recent events.”
“Join us, Gilead! We can use your magical expertise in the coming days and nights.”
“By all means, Drumtone. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Let us go to Sharon. She’ll be happy to receive us.”
Gilead spoke briefly with one of the chefs in the kitchen, delegating the run of the inn to him until the Key Mage’s eventual return. The Troll mage then donned his traveling cloak and stuffed the pockets with packages of salted meat, biscuits, lemons and drinking water.
The travelers exited from The Wolf’s Fang. They loosed the tethers of their mounts and lifted themselves into their saddles.
Gilead led the way to the nearby castle.
“I hope you heard the news, my friends. Sharon and I are threefold parents. The youngest of our children is soon to be born.”
“We did know that,” replied Taliesin. “Congratulations and blessings to you and your wife.”
The horses made good time on the well-worn path and they soon approached the outer gate and guard-post of Coermantyr Castle.
Torches and oil lamps illuminated the concentric rings of wrought-iron fence surrounding the perimeter of the stronghold. There were also circular trenches filled with water and masses of sharpened poles to hinder any would be siege or invasion.
Gilead took a moment to chat with the guards. He was recognized by the cautious Trolls and the soldiers gestured for the sizable entourage to proceed to the castle keep.
The central structure of Coermantyr Castle was impressive to Llewellyn.
“Much construction has taken place here in recent years. The castle is not what it was the last time I ventured here,” the Elf observed.
The group of visitors continued onward, following Gilead’s lead into the castle keep. Additional, armored guards raised their swords in salute as the Key Mage and his friends marched within.
The interior of Coermantyr Castle was well-maintained. Large tapestries and banners depicting the coats-of-arms of the attending Lords and Ladies of the region hung throughout the central hall.
Lesser wizards and apprentice adepts of the Lore Masters chatted in small groups. These mages raised their gaze to look at the motley gathering of visitors as they grew near. The residents were quick to identify Gilead and Taliesin but were unsure about the others.
After walking for several minutes through the hall additional castle guards opened the final set of doors before the throne room.
Oxholm saw the massive, circular table of the Lore Masters and the dais of the Baroness.
Sharon sat on her throne despite her expectant condition. Maidservants took care of her two, young children nearby.
Restadicus and the majority of the guild of mages were seated at their table in front of the proscenium. All of the trolls present rose to their feet to greet the Key Mage and his friends.
The visitors shook hands with the Lore Masters and gave Sharon a chivalrous embrace.
“Welcome, Oxholm, Drumtone and companions,” declared the Baroness. “It does us good to see you again.”
“We have awaited your arrival,” said Restadicus.
“Thank you, residents of Coermantyr,” replied Oxholm. “It has been some years since we Dwarves visited this structure west of Mystic Down. Significant events have taken place of late, after the construction of the city and mines at Minas Thanex.”
“That is what we have heard as well, Oxholm,” answered Sharon. “Restadicus and his Lore Masters have researched the status of the Dharmic Equilibrium through their scrying glass. They, too, report of the awakening of dragons and other titanic entities who slept in the Under Earth for centuries.”
“Verily, friends,” declared Restadicus. “We dwellers in Gaea stand on the brink of a Planar War, the likes of which this world has not seen for a thousand years!”
“That is why we are here, Lore Master,” said Taliesin. “The titan brothers, Fafnir and Fenrir, have made a mess of things for the Dwarves and the rest of us. We Trolls fear what may face our people next and have come to request magical assistance from you.”
“And you shall have it, Lord Taliesin,” answered the Baroness. “Restadicus and Wotan, whom you have traveled with in the past, have already given their consent to accompany you to your new stronghold of Minas Thanex.
“It would do none of us good to wait for the emerging titans to torch us in our sleep.”
“That is our wish, as well,” Oxholm added. “The Thanes and Dwarf Council will be indebted to Coermantyr for this aid.”
“If you please,” stated Drumtone, “we have traveled far and in little time to be here at this hour. May we rest here and get a solid meal in our stomachs before departing east?”
“Of course you may,” replied Sharon. “We wouldn’t have it any other way. Rest. Eat. Restadicus and Wotan will finish their preparation for their journey into the Under Earth.”
“Thank you, Baroness of Coermantyr,” answered Taliesin.
The visitors to the castle nodded their appreciation and followed a concierge to waiting rooms in the newly renovated keep. They retired for the evening and rose with the dawn, rested.
Restadicus addressed the group of Dwarves and Trolls and Elves as they loaded fresh supplies onto their mounts.
“I would offer to open a portal to Minas Thanex but have decided against such an attention-grabbing gesture in the lattice-work of the Planes.
“There are more than eyes watching us. I would feign to generate the arcane force necessary to create such a rift in space. It may be possible at a later time but for now we Lore Masters will stay on the side of caution.”
The riders set forth with Taliesin’s entourage of wolves trotting in the perimeter. They traveled for much of the day, passing through the border of Coermantyr and Mystic Down. At dusk they set camp in a clearing by the roadside.
Fulla spoke to Drumtone as the group settled around a cook-fire.
“Friend Dwarf, we are drawing near to the Arkadian Mountain Range and Tyr’s camp. With the permission of our number I think it would be wise to check on the shepherd and the arrested Fenrir.”
“Yes, Troll archer, that is a good idea,” replied Drumtone. “That location lies between us and the Maegar settlement. Let us share your suggestion with my brother.”
“I heard you, Fulla,” Oxholm said.
The Dwarf bellowed so that everyone present could hear.
“What say you, my companions? Shall we pay Fenrir a visit tomorrow?”
The travelers voiced their agreement to the plan. In a few minutes they delegated a rotating watch and settled for the night. The leaves of the neighboring forest rustled in the wind.
The travelers began their ascent into the foothills of the Arkadian Mountain Range that morning. The dense underbrush soon gave way to clusters of pine and elm trees.
Llewellyn said, “This terrain is familiar to me. The Qualinost Valley lies over those peaks. We should continue on our chosen course, though. The activity of the titans concerns the Elves of Gaea as well.”
“That is true, Elf leader,” replied Oxholm. “Let us make haste and perhaps we will reach Tyr’s camp while the sun still shines.”
The grade of the mountainside grew increasingly angular. The ponies had good footing on the trail and did not falter. Large boulders and walls of exposed granite interrupted the dusty trail occasionally.
Cries of sheep emanated through the sturdy trees.
Drumtone gestured to the others to dismount and hike as quietly as possible.
The riders complied with the Dwarf’s request and continued up the path on foot. They soon reached the clearing where Fenrir was restrained and Tyr attended to his considerable flocks of sheep.
“Hello, Oxholm, Drumtone and friends!” bellowed Tyr.
The Troll shepherd rose from his seat by a smoldering cook-fire. The scent of roasting sides of mutton grew strong as the Dwarves and others approached Tyr. They took care to give Fenrir a wide berth.
“There is no need to tiptoe. The flocks are awake at this time of day. Feel welcome to tether your mounts and pack-horses by my camp. I expected you would show up here, sooner or later. There is plenty of meat, of course!”
“Thank you, Tyr,” answered Oxholm. “We are glad to see you once again. All of us could use a break from this dusty trail.
“Allow me to introduce you to some friends of ours. Their names are Restadicus and Wotan they are both Lore Masters from Coermantyr.”
The group of friends tethered their horses nearby and settled down to a hearty mutton feast. They ate the gamy meat heartily.
Tyr occasionally turned from the cook-fire to look at Fenrir. All seemed subdued with the feral demigod. The titanic wolf slept as he lay chained to the ground.
It was then that the bleating of a young sheep pierced the afternoon air. The lamb had fallen victim to Fenrir’s large size. The hefty lykanthros’ left paw pinned the animal to the ground. It had ventured too close to the brother of the wyrm. The lamb called out to the neighboring herd to no avail.
Tyr stepped within range and used his staff as a lever to pry the small animal free from the paw of the wolf-beast.
Just as he loosed the lamb from the weight of Fenrir’s massive paw the demigod snapped at the shepherd, breaking the staff in two and biting his hand in a vicious attack.
Tyr dove out of range of the restrained wolf-entity, clutching the lamb under his good, right arm. His left hand had been taken by the ominous wolf’s scythe-like teeth. Arterial spray pulsed from his severed wrist.
Drumtone was the first to reach the shepherd, pulling him to safety.
“Aye! That’s a nasty cut, Tyr,” said the Dwarf.
“Oxholm, fetch me a firebrand. I’ve got to stop this bleeding if our friend is to see another day.”
Oxholm did as his brother requested and pulled a flaming log from the fire. Drumtone extended Tyr’s hemorrhaging limb to the end of the firebrand.
“Argh! That smarts!” hollered Tyr.
The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the wound was fully cauterized.
Drumtone tore strips of burlap from his pack and bound Tyr’s injury. The bleeding had diminished significantly.
“You’ll live, Tyr,” said Drumtone. “It is clear that all of us must exercise a degree of caution with Fenrir. He is a trickster.”
“You have my thanks, Dwarf warrior,” answered Tyr. “That was one of my prized lambs and I could not bear to part with it. I have learned my lesson.”
“So it seems,” replied Drumtone. “Get some rest, shepherd. The rest of us will depart for Minas Thanex in the morning.”
The travelers slept well that night despite Tyr’s serious injury and the proximity of Fenrir. The group was surprised to see that Drumtone had gone without sleep entirely. The red-haired Dwarf was intently whittling some pieces of wood.
Tyr, still in bandages, walked over to Drumtone.
“How are you this morning, friend Dwarf?” he asked.
“As good as can be expected, Tyr. Here, I have something for you.”
Drumtone held his handiwork up to catch the sunlight. It was a prosthesis. The main piece was an angular cylinder that would fit over Tyr’s injured forearm. The cap section was carved with an opening in the center. This was done so it could hold interchangeable tools. The enterprising Dwarf had carved three utensils to screw in to the end of the cuff. One was a hook, another a fork and the third a set of shears that closed when the wearer gripped a pull-string.
“Don’t put it on, Tyr. It is too soon and you will assuredly be sore and swollen at the point of the bite. Wait a few weeks for the edema and sensitivity to subside…then give the contraption a try.”
“Thank you, thoughtful Dwarf,” said Tyr. “It is truly a clever device. I will try it in some weeks.
“You visitors shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You have important business up the mountainside, at Minas Thanex. “Let the Thanes know that I will keep Fenrir fed despite his conniving attack. I do it to prevent angering the nether gods further. This will give Hrothgar and the Dwarf Council time to decide upon the ultimate outcome of this lykanthros demigod.”
“Very well, Tyr,” stated Oxholm. “We will make the final preparations to depart. May The Fates be with you.”
Each of the members of the traveling party squeezed Tyr in a chivalrous embrace. The Troll shepherd was in surprisingly good spirits despite his recent accident. He clearly wished for his friends to move on and be about their business.
The warriors mounted their variegated steeds and headed uphill, along the ascending trail.
Lord Taliesin’s domesticated wolves followed in the rear perimeter.
The breeze increased in intensity as it passed through the boughs of the trees. The mountain air was chilled and brisk.
Llewellyn chatted with Fulla and Ullr as they traveled.
“I am impressed that the Dwarves chose these mountains as a home for their society. The Qualinesti have thrived here in a modicum of secrecy for centuries. There are many similarities between the Dwarves’ stout race and that of we Elves. We are all manifestations of forces that exist in the Helix of the Planes.”
“I agree,” Fulla replied. “We Trolls, including Taliesin, also have roots extending from the spiritual tree…that is to say The Yggdrasil Tree. That is our name for it.”
“Yggdrasil…we Elves have record of that name in our libraries. I must research the details of that description when our mission is complete,” Llewellyn said.
The group reached Umbria and the settlement of the Maegar Dwarves by midday.
Oxholm and Drumtone were focused on the needs of the greater population of Gaeans, however, and did not slow their pace.
Maegar villagers looked up from their work to cheer the passage of the regional heroes.
Both of the Dwarf brothers nodded in acknowledgment to the many, familiar faces as their ponies trotted onward.
The trail to Minas Thanex had become well-worn over the months of commerce with the growing, subterranean city. This allowed the travelers to make quick time on the last leg of their journey.
Drumtone observed that the trees became smaller and staggered as the friends neared the summit.
Other Dwarves were present on the wide road and they moved to its shoulder, allowing the motley group to maintain their momentum.
Dwarf soldiers appeared on the twisting, rising path. They marched on foot, as was the norm. They, too, represented the unions of the tribes at Minas Thanex and, thus, their number consisted of representatives bearing distinctly different shapes of armor and shields.
“Hello, Oxholm!” bellowed a Dwarf sergeant as his patrol descended toward Umbria.
“Greetings, sergeant,” replied Oxholm. “Good luck to you!”
The travelers continued on their chosen path.
Military stockades and and watchtowers became frequent as Minas Thanex grew near.
At last Oxholm and his companions came within sight of the principle stronghold of the Dwarves.
The process of construction was ongoing. Next to each of the towering, central doors stood elaborate sets of scaffolding.
These allowed teams of sculptors to chisel massive likenesses of Reorx and Hrothgar.
Hrothgar’s features were selected for artistic study because he was the founding Dwarf King of Minas Thanex.
The guards at the gate had received word of the group’s approach and signaled the operators of the opening mechanism to start the teams of ponies.
The sturdy pack animals pulled chains attached to the cogs and gears that opened the metal doors.
The portals slowly creaked open and the arriving group passed into the interior of the mountain.
Minas Thanex bustled with activity. Engineers worked in rotating shifts to repair the destruction of Fafnir, the magma wyrm. Much had been accomplished since the dragon’s assault. These renovations included a medical hospice, a mausoleum and a school for young Dwarves.
The school taught students a variety of vocations ranging from history and biology to metallurgy and mine-craft.
Oxholm led his companions to the nearly completed Temple of Reorx.
The Thanes and Dwarf Council stood therein. They had also gotten the message of the approach of the Dwarf brothers.
“Welcome, Oxholm and Drumtone!” cried Hrothgar. “What news brings you and your tall comrades from the surface?”
“Hello, Hrothgar,” answered Oxholm. “Events of import have occurred since the fabrication of Fenrir’s chain.”
“That is good, friend Dwarf,” stated the Dwarf King. “Please, enlighten us.”
Oxholm recanted the tale of the giant wolf’s capture and the meeting with the Baroness and Lore Masters of Coermantyr.
“Thank you for informing us of the aspects of your travels, Oxholm,” declared Hrothgar. “We Thanes and council members are gladdened to have the additional participation of Restadicus, Wotan and Llewellyn. Fulla, Ullr and Taliesin are also welcome in this turbulent time.
“It would be beneficial in one perspective to devote all of the Dwarves’ time and energy to rebuilding what structures Fafnir destroyed.
“Unfortunately the hour is late in terms of securing the potent ember that we know permeates the deep rock of the Arkadian Mountain Range. We have dug deep. But the Goblins and Orcs have dug deeper still.
“Perhaps we can find a use for Taliesin’s wolf pack. Their quickness of foot, along with their keen sense of smell may help us in our foreseen struggle.
“The Goblins and beholder beasts are ahead of us in scope and vision within the Under Earth.
“It is our hope that this disparity changes in our favor over the coming weeks.
“With the knowledge you have brought us today we Thanes and council members ask your racially diverse company to conduct reconnaissance on the ember mines.
“The promising, young Baldur of the Urdar Tribe has previously helped us in this task. He is an adept spelunker.
“With your permission Baldur will venture with you into the mysterious tunnels and shafts of the alien ore. We have asked him to assemble a master map.”
Baldur stepped forward through the considerable group of Dwarves gathered in the Temple of Reorx. He shook hands with Oxholm and his company.
“Of course we accept your request, Hrothgar,” replied Oxholm. “All of us present here today have the flux of the Dharmic Equilibrium foremost on our minds. The awakening of the sleeping wyrms and other demigods concerns each of the regions of Gaea. That is why the Trolls and Elf are in our midst.”
“Very well, strong travelers,” said Hrothgar. “We will await your quick return with the master map.”
The Dwarves in the temple applauded the adoption of Hrothgar’s plan. Many patted the search party on the back and shoulders in approval.
Oxholm, Drumtone and their friends made their way out of the temple. The group was approached by a grizened Dwarf wearing spectacles.
He introduced himself to the Dwarf brothers.
“I am Lars, the quartermaster. I was instructed to speak with you fellows. I was encouraged to hear your acceptance of Hrothgar’s plan. You will be needing supplies. This is especially true for Lord Taliesin’s wolves.”
“Verily, Lars,” stated Taliesin. “A few bundles of smoked meat would surely help.”
“That is no problem, Troll Lord. I do have salted beef on hand. How about the rest of you?”
“Just some general goods, please, Lars…grain for the ponies and the like,” asked Oxholm.
“I get the idea,” said Lars. “I’ll have this order filled in a matter of hours.”
“We’ll be in Thunder Alley,” replied Drumtone. “Thanks, Lars.”
The group shook hands with Lars. He went to his store-house to collect the necessary goods for the journey of the companions.
Oxholm led his friends through the restored streets of the city. They found the tavern of Thunder Alley on the intact side of Fafnir’s swath of destruction.
Brent, the tavern-keeper, worked the early shift with Bermgarde, Otto’s girlfriend. The pair addressed the colorful group as they entered the establishment.
“Welcome, Oxholm, Drumtone and friends!” cried Bermgarde.
“Greetings, Brent and Bermgarde!” bellowed Oxholm. “A round of ale, if you please, for my friends and I.”
“Sure thing,” answered Bermgarde. “Fancy seeing Trolls and an Elf here in Minas Thanex.”
Brent brought a tray, covered with steins filled to the brim.
“How fare things on the surface?” he asked.
“A little better, Brent. We Dwarves succeeded in chaining the marauding Fenrir. Our herds are now safe from the giant wolf-beast,” replied Oxholm.
“In addition my brother and I met up with Llewellyn, the Elf leader, along with Restadicus and Wotan, the Lore Masters. They are also very concerned with the discovery of ember and the awakening of the demigods in the Under Earth.”
“Reinforcements are always a plus,” stated Bermgarde. “I’ve been known to wield an axe now and then, when the need arises. Let us know if you need an extra pair of hands in your quest.
“My friend, Otto, is more of a map-maker and engineer it seems. He wouldn’t mind if I took a few weeks off from the tavern to aid you fellows.”
“We may just take you up on your offer, Bermgarde,” declared Oxholm. “The road ahead is sure to be daunting. In all honesty we could use your help in our endeavor.”
“In that case, you can count me in, too!” boomed a voice at the door.
It was Baldur. The younger Dwarf sported a full, brown beard and had a hearty expression.
“I’ll take one for the road, Brent, if you please,” said Baldur.
“But of course, my friend,” said the keeper of Thunder Alley.
He brought the new arrival a foamy tankard.
Baldur took a sip and sat at the table of the travelers.
“Ah, that’s better. I’ve packed my things. Now, let’s get down to business. How many entities have been awakened down there?”
“No one knows for certain, Baldur,” answered Drumtone. “Much of our mission will be made in the interest of definitively finding the answer to that question.”
“And that is why Wotan and I are here with our Elf companion,” added Restadicus.
“Indeed, the regions on the surface of Gaea are bound to be affected if this Planar War gets out of hand. Perhaps it already has done as such,” said Llewellyn.
“We should be on our way, then, warriors,” declared Baldur. Nothing is worse than fear of the unknown.”
“I’ll meet you Dwarves and others at Rygar’s Gate. I must bid farewell to Otto,” stated Bermgarde.
Oxholm paid for the drinks with a handful of coins. He took care to leave a generous tip for Brent as well.
The travelers untethered their ponies and domesticated wolves from the hitching posts at the front of Thunder Alley. They made their way across the remaining area of debris and destruction left in Fafnir’s wake.
A set of watchtowers and stockades lined the safe side of Rygar’s massive gate. The portals were the first line of defense from the network of mines.
Lars stood before the closed doors with a wagon that was full of supplies. The quartermaster chatted with Rygar, the head of Dwarf security. The pair looked up as the Dwarves, Elf and Trolls approached.
“Welcome, brave souls!” declared Rygar. “It is good to have you back in The Under Earth with us. It appears that you have consented to accept the plan of Hrothgar and the Dwarf Council.
“I wish I could go with you,” said Rygar. “I have other assignments to fulfill here, I’m afraid. May The Fates be with you on this journey. Be careful.”
The group bade farewell to Rygar and Lars, who had finished harnessing the loaded wagon to a spare pony.
The chief of security gave the signal to the Dwarves in the towers to start the ponies and pull the gates open so that his friends might pass within.
The air changed upon the group’s entrance to the principle road of the mines. There was heavy moisture and a substantial breeze.
The water, previously contained in an aqueduct, ran haphazardly in a narrow stream over the center of the cobblestone pavement. Still there were spots where the flow of the subterranean water was reclaimed for use by perpendicular sluice lines and troughs for pack-animals.
At numerous locations piles of fallen rock and snapped, wooden, support beams had been cleared and hauled away. This gave Dwarven miners and engineers the open space necessary to begin assembling fresh frames and supports to keep the mines safe and navigable.
Over all the mines were far from total repair. The warriors passed by many areas where cave-ins had taken place under the extensive girth and muscle of the magma wyrm.
“Let us take care with these treacherous passages, my friends,” said Drumtone. “The dragon, Fafnir, laid waste in large proportions to our mines. It will surely take time to eliminate the markings of his movement.”
“Clearly it took hard work to restore these tunnels to their current state,” observed Oxholm. “We continue to be indebted to the brave Dwarves that gave their lives to prevent Fafnir from setting up residence in Minas Thanex. This is the case for the enterprising miners that returned to these compromised diggings so soon after the attack.”
Torches had also been returned to the intersections and way-stations of the vertical and horizontal grids. The lights remained functioning through scheduled replenishing of the oil coffers by Dwarven runners.
As of old, occasional miners carried small, caged birds, namely canaries, that would fall silent when confronted by toxic, coal gas and foul, gaseous emissions from the rock. Others toted wide-brimmed, steel helmets with rows of candles on top to shed additional light on the work at hand.
Drumtone spoke to the group as they passed the mouth of another passage, from which the sounds of active mining emerged.
“These Dwarves are busy and industrious. If not for the dragon’s attack our people would have assembled smaller settlements and military defenses within the Under Earth at strategic locations yet distant from Minas Thanex. As it is the tunnels and shafts above and below us continue to grow in reach and width.”
“I suspect that the beholder beasts will be the first hostile entities to take advantage of these recently-cleared shafts,” said Restadicus. “The gorgons continue to function as the eyes and ears of the denizens who possess chaotic proclivities. Ergo our opponents in the planar imbalance most likely know of the return of the Dwarves to these routes and passages. It is but a matter of time until the Harad Ghul sends assassins our way.”
“We will be ready for them when they come,” declared Fulla. “Ullr and I are prepared, as is Bermgarde, who contributes her skills to our group of warriors.”
“It is true, friends,” added Bermgarde. “I have gained intelligence and preliminary maps of the Goblin and Orc cities and ember mines from my partner, Otto. As you know he worked extensively with the Harad Ghul before he was convinced, fortunately, to return to his fellow Dwarves.”
“Certainly, Bermgarde,” answered Drumtone. “We Dwarves are glad to have Otto back with us. He conducted diggings that bring focus to the locations of the ember lodes deep in the rock.
“In this light we will depend on Baldur who was delegated by Hrothgar and the Thanes to compose a master map. It will be based, in part, on Otto’s diggings but will also contain new links between the ember-laden ore and the Dwarven mines along with Fafnir’s cylindrical cavern.”
“I will do my best, Drumtone,” declared Baldur. “We must delve farther, though, if we are to reveal the full extent of the deeper mines. I’m sure that the Goblins and Orcs quickened their pace once they discovered Otto to be missing from their company.”
The friends continued on their course leading to the outer limits of the known Dwarven mines. They passed additional groups making their way to food and rest at the nearest way-station.
“The mines are busy,” observed Bermgarde. “There are bound to be new settlements here.”
“Indeed. An enterprising tavern-keeper could make good profits out here. Minas Thanex can only supply miners from a distance,” answered Drumtone.
“That is likely but remains to be seen,” said Oxholm. “There are many threats to the security of these mines. This is especially the case for those tunnels that extend far from Rygar’s patrols. Let us remain focused on the reconnaissance at hand. If things go easily for us we will report it to be as such back home.”
The others in the party nodded their agreement and pushed onward. They passed the first way-station without interception and made good time to the second.
The warriors in Oxholm’s group rested then and watered the wolves and ponies. Half of a dozen regular miners and spelunkers also took a break at the spartan outpost.
They chatted briefly with the warriors but did not report of having seen or heard any indication that the denizens of the Harad Ghul had returned to the area.
Lord Taliesin took care to toss some slabs of dried meat to his wolf pack.
Drumtone, in turn, fed some grain to the ponies.
The group was soon refreshed and they prepared themselves mentally for the increasing likelihood that opposing forces would appear.
Each of the members of the band observed that the tunnels were crude in their fabrication. The miners had yet to pave and widen the route as they had done for the previously intersecting paths.
“Let us lead the ponies and wagon in single file, now” declared Baldur. “These walls are yet untouched by Dwarven tools. We now stand within eroded crevasses created by the flow of melting, subterranean glaciers and the rivers they created over centuries.”
“That is the truth, Baldur,” offered Restadicus. “When the time is right you should indicate the difference on your master map.”
“I certainly will,” replied the young Dwarf. “I can see that I have my work cut out for me. I hope I have a parchment scroll large enough.”
Damp air and the sound of a powerful waterfall wafted on the breeze. The travelers passed through an angular curve in the rock and found themselves in the cavern that contained a cascade that plummeted from far above and the sizable lake previously encountered by the Dwarf brothers.
“Ah, we are here once again!” Oxholm boomed. “We must move along the shore of this lake. There is an opening in the rock at the far end.”
The company of fighters did as Oxholm suggested and made their way along the edge of the body of water. They soon found the passage at the far end and entered it one at a time.
Restadicus and Ullr were forced to stoop to proceed into the dark passage. The leader of the Lore Masters opted to ignite the top of his staff.
The wizard’s staff exuded a bright, arcane light that made shadows dance in the narrow, naturally-formed passage. Restadicus turned to look back at the others. He noticed that the width of the tunnel barely allowed the supply wagon to continue onward.
“Hmm…I sense alien magic nearby,” the white-bearded mage declared. “We must remain alert for trouble at any turn.”
The warriors acknowledged their agreement with the concern of the Lore Master. They took out their chosen weapons and held them in tight grips.
The passage again widened and the roof opened upward. It was no longer visible within the range of the wizard’s light.
Baldur noticed small rivulets of pebbles as they fell from far above. The rock walls shook and a loud, booming sound vibrated down from the darkness.
All of the travelers looked up, searching for the source of the ruckus.
A trio of red beholder beasts descended into the light. The largest of the three growled with hostility.
“Argh! You Dwarves were warned to stay away. Our masters see what we see. There is more business taking place here than you could possibly comprehend. Now you will die.”
The gorgons generated an ephemeral bond of blue energy that was connected from one to the next. The luminescent energy surged with the power of the spherical creatures. It formed a triangle with rapidly changing dimensions as its possessors zoomed close to the warriors.
Fulla was prepared and she pressed an arrow to the taught line of her hunting bow. She drew the shaft back, then released it with a twang. The projectile flew with high velocity at the nearest beast. It penetrated her target at center, through the round, single eye.
The blinded beholder screamed in pain and flipped awkwardly through the air. It bounced roughly against the walls of the passage and drew near to the explorers.
Oxholm was agile and used the close proximity of the gorgon to render a flurry of strikes with his battleaxe.
The wounded creature growled loudly as green blood poured from its wounds. Then it slumped to the floor and was silent.
Wotan contended with the remaining pair of aggressive beholders. He uttered a frost missile incantation.
Bolts of blue ice formed before the wizard’s outstretched fingers and shot at the beasts. The projectiles collided with the two entities and shattered on impact. This left patches of extreme cold on the surface of the tough-skinned opponents.
The gorgons tried to harness the warriors within the remaining v-shaped formation of their ephemeral bond.
Bermgarde was the closest and she nimbly sidestepped the angular trap. The female Dwarf also wielded a battleaxe and this she plunged into the flesh of the nearest beast.
It howled in agony as Bermgarde’s weapon created a deep gash on the outer circumference of her target. She had struck an artery and green blood spumed from the beholder as it spun erratically through the air. The gorgon was shaken and it fled upward into the darkness from whence it had emerged.
Lord Taliesin pushed into the fray from the group’s rear. He used his larger size to heft his dragon-sword over his head, piercing the largest beholder beast from below.
“Argh! That hurts, Troll! Nevertheless you spies are too late. Our commanders are aware of your unwanted presence in these tunnels. You will live to regret your infiltration of these private paths. Be ready, indeed, for you will see me and my cohorts again…sooner rather than later. Farewell, for now.”
The large, red gorgon rose up off of Taliesin’s sword and ascended into the shadows before Fulla could fire another arrow.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Young Baldur is the most promising of us all. None can say what he will achieve. He is occasionally glum but Frig, his mother, cheers him and keeps his spirits aloft. He must remain careful not to be overly courageous, either. If he were to pass into the netherworld prematurely great bargains must be made to bring his spirit back to the higher branches of the Yggdrasil tree. Niflheim & Hel await. Such as it is let us do what we can to stay in the higher worlds of the demigods. Baldur has vision, though, and an uncanny curiosity for that which lies beyond our ken. He is our explorer and spelunker and perhaps the hero for whom we all have waited so many years.
The Althing is the time once a year where all the Vikings and property owners go to Iceland to make an account of their property holdings, cases to be heard…heard by the Althing. A judge of sorts. People would go to sell items. Later, more than just a court list with banishments and no fire or water for several scores of miles. Damages and reparations were managed and finalized by the Althing. Promoting a band of Vikings set on a specific avenue of enterprise…How much grain would cost…wheat, barley for beer. You would put up a booth and become a listener of cases. A small, Scandinavian world fair. A manservant killed, marriage, anything legal. “Last year I went to the althing and had this issue settled.”
Tyr – The Sky God.
Thor – would be avenged by 2 sons.
Priam – 3 generations before Thor…13 generations before Odin.
War between Vannaheim & The Asir…They exchange hostages.
Vidar – The Strong One…he will seek to avenge Odin & the release of Baldur.
Hermod/Baldur killed & sent to Helheim.
Lasalfheim – Light Elves
Sleipnir – A morbid, 8-legged steed who runs on the wind and is very fast.
Frigg – The mother of Baldur. She calls for oaths to rescue her son.
Nanna – Baldur’s wife, who dies when he dies. She possibly throws herself onto Baldur’s funeral pyre with a broken heart.
Goddess Hel – “If you want Baldur back, every creature must shed a tear…then she’ll release him. The realm of Hel is cold and slow…not an inferno.
Loki – He is Heimdal’s mortal enemy. Disguises himself as a giantess and refuses to shed a tear for Baldur. Loki is Luciferian and mischievous. The Dwarves later tie Loki up in a cave, where snakes drip venom on his face.
Dying a straw death…you’ll get sent to Hel. Dying on your feet bearing arms in battle you will be chosen by either Freya or Odin to exist in Valhalla.
Jotenheim is the land of the giants. It lies to the east of Midgard. (Reputably East=Slavs and Asians.)
These are poetic references for visiting court poet to infotain the royals.
Traditionally the Viking population was smaller than that of neighboring regions.
One-eyed Odin…The bright eyed one. The eye is the sun…blind eye the moon…his dark, blue cloak is the sky.
Thor – a sky god with lightning.
Tools for hunting.The Dwarves assemble the magical tools for the gods. This includes mjolnir…thor’s belt..thor’s iron glove. Odin’s spear…grungir..never misses. Sif…Thor’s wife’s hair to replace that which Loki cut off.
Frey…the swordless one and brother of Freya owned a sword that fought by itself…but he gave it away to marry a giantess named Skadi…thus during Ragnarok Frey has no sword.
Heimdal…the shining white god. It is his job to watch for Ragnarok. He blows his horn to signify that the giants are coming. He can hear the grass grow. He fights Loki to the death in Ragnarok. Devalin wants to marry one of Thor’s daughters so he makes the sun “Devalin’s Toy”.
The Dwarves…makers of Sif’s Hair…Devalin’s Toy…and Mjolnir…the bane of giants.
Odin’s cleverness…Thor the defender.