The cavern, in all its ominous glory, loomed over the companions in a wide expanse of gloom and darkness. The metalforged was the first to step in the entrance, its metal feet clanging quite loudly on the stone floor. An orc followed suit, his ice-tipped sword crackling and whistling. It was already proving to be a dangerous venture. Other than the feet of the metalforged and the snowy tip of the orc's blade, it was quiet. Maybe too quiet for the young adventurers.
A heavy wind came through the cavern, though no windows showed through to allow such drastic gusts. The orc, strangely intelligent as he was, stopped the almost mindless metalforged. Looking around near the source of the strange winds, keeping his blade ready, the orc saw a flash of silver, and a glow of blue, in the distant dark. The colors were not enough to allow the orc a clear assumption of what creature dwelled here, but the heavy wind and the evident slit pupil closed the deal, and the orc's eyes widened in both fear and amazement. Almost shoving the metalforged to the ground, the orc spun away, then hissed in his companion's direction, "Dragon." The metalforged knew simple English, and even the orc's heavy orcish accent did not deter the metal being from knowing what he said.
The dragon knew of the travelers' presence now. And by Somt, it was ready. Sucking in a breath, the beast prepared to unleash an assault of corrosive acid. It arched its neck, but as it released the lungful of acidic air, it found no target to burn through. Not at first, anyways. To the companions, it was dark in the cavern, providing little to know light. To the dragon, darkness was no obstacle, and it was easily able to find its hiding prey. It moved to suck in another breath. The metalforged saw what the magical entity was trying to do, and moved forward to stop it. It came up too short, though. The dragon had already prepared the next breath attack, and it leaned right into the metalforged, breathing the acid all over the mithral coating. Sizzling, the acid began to eat away at the metal, and the metalforged began to feel weaker and weaker. Surprised by what had just occurred, it made no move to counterattack. Finding the opportunity arising, the black dragon reared its head again and prepared to strike with its shining ivory teeth, not wanting to waste meaningful time on an inhalation. As its head lurched forward, prepared to lock on to the robotic figure with enough force to snap the weakened life form in two, the bestial thing felt an icy chill bite into its neck. The orc's blade had found its way to the dragon's exposed neck scales, freezing and exploding the shadowy armor. Tender flesh now exposed, the dragon found little confidence to bring the rest of its attack onto the metalforged. It already felt its precious life force draining. The metalforged stumbled away, thudding hard into the cavern wall and releasing any tension in its literally corded muscles. The orc was on its own now, but the frostbite his sword inflicted on the now vulnerable dragon was enough to bring the beast to its knees. Everything seemed to slow down at that moment, and as the orcish longsword finished off the deadly cut, the dragon felt the glow of its blue eyes dull, and with its last breath, it managed to mutter in its native draconic tongue, "I am defeated." And it was over. The beast's body slumped to the ground, head rolling around on the floor. The orc, surprised as he was, had no time to revel in his victory. His metalforged counterpart was injured, and seemed to be dulling away by the second.
Kneeling by his friend, the orc pulled his knapsack off his back and dug around for a rag. Being made of metal, the orc couldn't do much about his companion's injuries; they would have to return to get plates replaced and internal gears mended. As he turned, rag in hand, to his dear friend, he felt a hot metal hand grasp his arm. Weak as it was, the metalforged's grip was still tough, and the acid remains on its fingertips burned the orc's flesh. Tears welled in his eyes as he expected the raspy words to ensue death on his comrade's iron lips.
"Leave me," the rusty, robotic voice said. Even being a robot, the slightest hint of sadness and defeat tainted its voice, and a salty tear spilled off the orc's tear duct.
"I will only cause you troubles if I am… brought… along…" it continued, its voice now coming harder and harder, "Replace me. I am… but a robot. But… when you replace… me with another… of my kind… remember the… name. Remember… me." The orange flame that so often the orc found confidence in burnt out, and as the eyes of the metalforged dimmed, so did the hopefulness of its friend. Now there was nothing. Folding his companion's hands over its chest, the orc whispered the name he so often was told never to use, for metalforged are almost never addressed.
"Myld."
The caves seemed to get ever darker, and the only source of light was in the orc's hand, a low flickering torch he had derived from the dragon's cave. He saw no treasure in the pile of gold balanced deeper in the caverns. He only saw pain, an endless torture he knew his friend would endure. The endless torture of knowing you died in vain, that even if you had lived to kill that dragon, you would die anyways, of hunger maybe, or with no strength, you might encounter some lesser monster that would best you in combat. The only happiness the orc could find was the knowledge that his dearest friend died in combat beside him, and that this combat was with a dragon, and no less! The metalforged deserved the death it got, and it wasn't a life wasted. The orc often looked back on these memories as he wandered, lost in the expanding labyrinth of caves. If anything, he could return to his friend and join it in death. The only obstacle was the flicker of hope the orc held that told him he might get out of these caves. If anything were to happen that the orc could possibly consider lucky, it would be escape.
The dragon's caverns of loot seemed to run on endlessly, but nothing ever caught the orc's eye. Everything seemed dull. Everything was moved to a scene of black and white, where nothing seemed shiny, and nothing was colorful enough to earn the orc's interest. The only thing he found that appealed to him was a purple glowing iron-bound shield to accompany his magical longsword. He would have to get the magic of the shield identified later. For now, his torch burned low, as did his confidence. He needed to escape this cave.
In a strange fashion, the orc seemed to stumble around the maze of tunnels for a few more hours, even long after his torch burned out. There was no light, and it was pitch black in the tunnel. The orc was all but delirious now; he talked to himself and stumbled around like a drunkard. Mirages of light at the end of a tunnel sent him sprinting right into a wall. He fussed over gold he tripped over. He seemed to have lost it completely. Until he saw it…
A sparkle in the distance. His mind immediately cleared, and the orc found himself striding over (oddly confidently), and grabbing the shining stone gruffly. He gave no care to the welfare of the light blue gem, but insisted on inspecting the stone more closely. Upon close inspection, he found it was a fine cut gem, and it seemed to emanate magic. Trained eyes seemed to stare into the stone, and the orc found something he dreaded; one of the facets. It was green, unlike any of the other facets on the entire stone. Having read about it in a book, but vaguely remembering the facts, the orc was pulled into looking even closer at the unusual rock.
This green facet seemed to shine brighter than the rest once the orc noticed it, and the lone adventurer thought it was surely his insanity that conjured such an image. He no longer knew how long he had been looking at the facet, only that it intrigued him more than anything. What a wondrous find! Having found a new strength in the gem's green facet, the orc pushed on, now somehow easily traversing the labyrinth of caves, as if he had a map of the place in front of him. Escape was evident and easy.
Blistengorp
"Is Bloodhand sure this is it?" the merchant persisted. The gem the straggled orc held before him seemed nothing out of the ordinary. "Bloodhand's been away for quite some time, is he sure it's not just the sun?"
"The sun? Oh, the sun. The goddamn sun, huh? You think I find a blue gem with one green facet in a cave and it's all a fluke because you think the goddamn sun is making a reflection?" Bloodhand's insanity hadn't completely worn off, but he knew this merchant well enough, and the merchant should know that Bloodhand doesn't lie about his finds.
"Alright, alright. The Thack will tell the worth of this gem. But… Bloodhand seems very… tense about it. Is there some kind of magic involved? Everyone knows what happens when there's magic involved… The Thack doesn't –" "The Thack needs to shut his little gnomish trap before I shut it for good! Yes, there is definitely some magic involved in this, and I'm sure I never asked for the worth of this gem. I asked you to direct me to a person willing to tell me the natural magic of this precious artifact!" A large, green fist slammed onto the table, startling the little gnome quite enough.
"Alright, alright. The Thack will direct Bloodhand to a merchant willing to tell him the natural magic of the gem. But The Thack still doesn't see what Bloodhand is talking about. Oh, well. Across the street, yes, Blistengorp, the Drith, will tell Bloodhand what magic the gem holds," the nervous gnome stammered.