Chapter Five
The Great Tunnel
(Author's Note: Something that you have to understand about literature, stories, and other types of writing is the cliche. Most people think of them as the tools of lazy writers (which I admittedly am), but you really do have to understand; cliches get started because they're true. It's the same with stereotypes; at least to some extent they're true. So understand that I'm not just trying to be funny or lazy when I say...)
...It was a dark and stormy night.
The rain wasn't quite so bad as it might have been, nor was the wind. It was still not the most comfortable place, but the wind, rain, and cold were not the main factor. The lightning was. Almost as though heaven itself was battling, bolts of brilliant, incandescent lightning cracked ominously, splitting trees more often than not.
Near an old ruin carved into the living rock of a cliff face, six travelers approached, all covered from head to foot in hooded rain cloaks. One stood over six in height, another barley topping four. The other four ranged from fix three to five ten in their heights, but any other identifying marks were obscured by their hoods.
One of the shorter of the two reached for the cowl of their hood as though to speak, when the one in the front of them began walking into the ruin. The figure seemed to heave a sigh, but followed.
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Within the ruins, the cloaks came off to reveal their owners. "So, this is the Dwarves Great Tunnel, eh?" came Woodchuck's voice.
Slayn nodded. "It must have been home to many a skilled dwarf craftsman," he said as he took in the rich masonry. Hardly a single inch of the pillars and walls had been left unadorned. Everything was covered by rich engravings and sculpture. Near the edges of the tunnel's entrance, the gutters ended in gargoyles resembling Chinese lions, tubes protruding from their mouths.
Ghim, the dwarf, frowned as he approached the walls. Reaching towards the face of a ram carved into a pillar, he idly crushed the brittle rock. Though a dwarf, and a great deal stronger than he looked, crushing the rock when it had been newly made would have been impossible. "That was a long time ago."
Woodchuck frowned comically. "Um, we're not really going through there, are we?"
Slayn smiled. "We have little choice in the matter. This is the fastest way to get to Valis from Wort's tower."
Deedlit frowned as she looked around. "Ew, it smells so moldy down here."
Never one to forego a chance to needle the high elf, Ghim chose to bark back. "Silence! It's bad enough having an elf disgracing the home of my ancestors!"
"I beg your pardon?!"
Etoh ran between them, desperate for damage control. "Ghim! Deed! Stop that!"
Trent rolled his eyes. "War is breaking out. Save the fighting for when we have something to kill."
Deedlit glared back at the dark elf's patronizing voice. Further arguments were forestalled however, as...well, something began happening to the gargoyles adorning the walls. As though they were shaking off old clothes or stretching, the massive, winged stone creatures began to writhe and shift from stone to flesh. The six adventurers gasped as the creatures began diving for them. Swords were produced by the two elves; Ghim's battle-axe came to the ready.
Above them, Woodchuck somehow managed to bend nearly completely in half to dodge the swoop from one of the creatures, only to find one behind him. He frantically ran, only to shudder to a halt as he realized that he only had about fifteen feet of space to run in. He spun to face the aerial charging gargoyle, grabbing its jaw as it knocked him from his perch. In the midair fall, he managed to yank out his dagger and viciously slash open the thing's throat, reducing it back to rocks just after it had served its purpose as a living cushion.
Slayn jerked his crook-shaped mage staff towards a doorway leading deeper into the tunnel. "Get out of here quickly! We're sitting ducks out here!" As the five of them managed to sprint deeper into the catacombs, Slayn braced himself, his staff held in front. His eyes closed as he began to focus, drawing on the power around him
"Source of all power, come to my aid. Let you be guided by my hand against these false ones. You, whose natures have been cloaked, cast off these false garments and reveal your true selves!"
The words held quiet command, their power manifesting. Each word caused the world to shift minutely, bit by bit, until it whipped the air at his feet into a swirling wall of power. The gargoyles swooped towards him, only to bounce off a wall of force, invisible until the moment of impact. As the spell did its work, each gargoyle impacting was reduced to its original stone, and then into rubble.
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Deeper in the catacombs, the other six had managed to lose their sense of danger with remarkable speed. Woodchuck tsked sadly as he gazed at the head of a goat-like creature carved from marble. "Man, I could have gotten a good price if this were complete."
Deed...well, 'gushed' is the only appropriate term that comes to mind as she slipped on a large, necklace made from circular plates of hammered and engraved gold. "Oh, it's so beautiful!" She turned to Trent eagerly. "What do you think?"
Trent sweat-dropped at the perky elf-girl. "Um, we kind of don't have time for that Deed."
Etoh shot forward as she began twitching at Trent's casual dismissal. "It suits you! Really!"
"Thank you..."
Ghim turned swiftly back to the entrance; he at least had chosen to remain wary. "Who's there?"
The answer turned out to be the tapping of Slayn's staff as he walked in, slightly winded by his spell. "It's alright." He frowned, shaking his head. "It's almost as though some kind of evil force is spreading across all of Lodoss."
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Several days travel to the northeast stood the tower of Wort. An Arch mage, he had played a pivotal role in the fall of the demon almost twenty years ago. Now, he had become a recluse in his tower, pondering the world and the magic around him
An old man, he was no longer the powerful, wise, but headstrong mage who had battled wars and goblins. Shorter now, his long white hair was drawn into a wispy mane trailing down his back. He frowned as a locus of mage energy drifted into his lair, the only visible herald the small wind kicking up enough to begin drifting his pages.
"They say that the march of time spares no one. I have come to wonder if that is true."
Wort frowned as the Grey Witch materialized before him. "Who are you?"
"Was it really so long ago? Have you forgotten the battle in the labyrinth? Your companions the six heroes?" As Wort's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the now chillingly familiar circlet, she continued. "Ah, I see the recognition beginning to dawn. Have you forgotten how you vowed to protect me just before you charged that demon? My dear Wort."
His eyes widened in shock. "But that...you..."
"What is a body? A garment, to be worn and discarded over the ages." Her chilling, echoing laugh only caused his eyes to narrow.
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Woodchuck groaned in exasperation as they followed Ghim. "How much longer is this going to take, huh? We've been walking for hours!"
Ghim snorted. "What, you expected a little mining shaft? The size of the Dwarves's Great Tunnel is legendary!"
Deed's walk became a bit closer to a strut as they continued. "Hmph. I suppose it's only natural for this to take forever, what with the dwarf leading us," she calmly stated much to Etoh's amusement.
Woodchuck snorted in turn. "Whatever. Just get us out of here in one piece! I don't fancy losing my head down here."
"Relax kid. This isn't some sorcerer's labyrinth. As long as we keep going forward, we'll eventually reach the end."
As they passed yet another left behind treasure, Deed paused. Imbedded in the rock of the wall was sheathed a long rapier, the hilt worked in rings of gold in ivory, richly detailed in flowers, leaves, and vines; the pommel a dragon's skull. She gasped as she got a closer look at the incredible blade. "How beautiful..."
Ghim froze at her voice, spinning. "NO! DON'T TOUCH IT!"
The elf froze at his bellow. Unfortunately, she'd already touched it (you DID see that coming, right?). Just WHY it was unfortunate became rather apparent as the alcove began sinking into the ground, the blocks of the wall beginning to distend.
Trent shot back towards her, grasping her left hand. "Let go of the damn thing already!"
"I can't! It's stuck!"
Trent ground his teeth as he tried to brace himself. Time had taken its toll on the dwarven masonry however, giving way under his feet and dragging him down the tunnel with her.
"Deed! Trent!"
Woodchuck stared as they started whizzing downward. "Ah, bloody hell..."
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Fahn stared impassively into the distance over the battlements of Castle Roid. He hadn't specifically asked for it, but the original architect had added a balcony onto the main throne room. If nothing else, it was nice to simply see the land he ruled. Good for thinking, when you needed it.
He frowned as the memories of perhaps a week ago returned, of his last meeting with the dark elf.
"So, you're leaving?"
Trent nodded quietly. "Wort is the only one who might have any information concerning Karla, and we need all the help we can get. She's much stronger than anything else we might come to face."
Fahn nodded as Trent stood. His eyes widened at the sight of the lacquered black wood of the slightly curved sword slung on his back. "That sword..."
Trent paused, turning back. "This sword is one of two that my father owned before me. He gave me this as something of a coming of age gift fifteen years ago."
"What...was your father's name?"
"...Sirius. Sirius Shadowlight."
Fahn sighed. "Trent...survive." He turned at the sound of steel on marble. "King Kashue."
The mercenary king nodded calmly to his ally. "Thinking of those six?" At the older man's nod, he allowed himself a small grin. "I hate to admit it, but I like the elf. Nothing like one's taught of his race."
Fahn nodded calmly, staring at the ground. "I never in a thousand years thought I might someday meet Kale's son. No...no, that's not true. I think, deep down I knew I'd meet him someday. It was inevitable."
Kashue frowned in thought at the unfamiliar name, his eyes widening in mixed shock and horror as he recognized it. "Kale?!"
Fahn nodded, turning back to look into the west. "I'm old, Kashue. I'm getting older everyday; older and weaker. And yet, I have never felt weaker or more helpless than on the day that man died for me." Ignoring Kashue's reaction to those words, he continued to stare into the distance. "Trent...please return alive."
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The dark elf in question was currently groaning as he picked himself up from the ground. He wasn't injured or anything, just kind of sore from the less-than-gentle landing. "You know, maybe we should start listening to Ghim, at least while we're in his people's tunnels."
Deed had the grace to look sheepish. "Um, I suppose you're right. Any idea where we are?"
Trent shook his head. "In the ground deeper than we used to be. Besides that, I haven't the faintest idea."
Deed sighed deeply. Knowing Ghim, she'd never hear the end of this. "Can you shadow-walk us out of here?"
Trent shook his head. "I can get us up to half a mile away from here; that's about the limit of my powers. Problem is, I don't have any idea where the rest of our group will end up. We'll have to find another way out." Looking around, he paused as he kicked some kind of rock. He frowned as he examined it; the curve was far too smooth and uniform to be natural. "What is this? Some kind of mural?"
Deed knelt down to look at it for a moment. "It looks like a part of a much bigger painting. Hang on a moment." Standing, she began to draw power from her surroundings. "Spirit of Light, mother which nourishes plants, come forth and dispels this darkness."
The tiny orb of light formed, then rose into the air. Near the domed apex, it opened, beginning to shine over the image.
Trent stared in rapt wonder at the almost living painting. It showed a huge battlefield, so many people on it that they couldn't even be individualized; hundreds of thousands without a doubt. What made it epic however were the images he recognized as various gods and goddesses of the Forcerian pantheon, alongside hundreds of ancient dragons. "That's..."
Deed nodded. "I've heard the legend. Supposedly, the god Falaris led an army against Falis, the supreme. It's the myth of Lodoss's creation. The gods were so strong that their own power destroyed them."
Trent shook his head. "So much power, and all they could do with it was kill. Some times I wonder what makes gods better than men if they also fight wars."
Deed frowned slightly at him. "Odd sentiments from an assassin, aren't they?"
Trent shrugged helplessly. "I never said I enjoyed war. War is for warriors, not me."
Deed smiled, shaking her head as she strolled past him. "I can't understand you in the least; you're nothing like any of the elves I've ever met. Though, I suppose that's what's attractive." She smiled, spinning around him; incidentally leaving him with the general sensation of being malletted in the back of the head (you know, absolute shock and a loss of coherent thought).
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"I call to my staff the power to dispel this darkness."
Woodchuck whistled appreciatively as Slayn's walking stick took on the appearance of a halogen torch. "That's handy."
Slayn nodded. Light spells like this were among the simplest, most common he knew of; a fair amount of adventurers had enough magical know-how to pull it off. "We need to find the others as soon as possible."
Ghim waved it aside, pulling of his glove. "Relax." Sucking a fingertip for a moment then holding it to the breeze, he nodded in satisfaction as he replaced the glove. "One of those two elves will be able to follow the air currents to get back to the exit."
Woodchuck laughed openly. "Didn't expect that from you. You're always harping on about that elf girl, it's a wonder you're being civil at all."
"Shut your hole! Dwarves don't let their dislikes blind them to what a person can do!"
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure..."
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Deed took a deep, even breath. This wasn't too hard, it just took some time. "Maiden Sylph, let your air currents guide us to the surface." As she continued her invocation, the air around her began to blow upwards, sending her cape and hair whipping in a centered breeze around her. "Maiden Sylph, let your air currents guide us to the surface." Fluidly finishing the spell, she leapt off the pedestal she'd chosen to cast from. The spell made her hyper-aware of the ebb and flow of the wind in the tunnels; the air would naturally flow towards the outside. "Thank you, Sylph."
Trent smiled as she touched down.
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Wort stared incredulously at her. "You, Karla, also known as the Grey Witch? What are you doing here? What is your purpose?"
Karla's small, chilling smile never wavered. "Do you know of the dragon that is said to guard the gates at the end of the Dwarves Great Tunnel?"
Wort's eyes narrowed suspiciously as power began playing across her circlet.
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As Ghim had put it, the size of the Dwarves's great tunnel was legendary. If you didn't stop to rest at any time, you could possibly make it through in a single day; it was easily twenty miles long of masonry.
And unfortunately, it was very, very tall. Tall enough for large, four- legged, fire-breathing reptiles.
Deed gasped as she sensed the magic awakening a great force.
Deeper in the caverns, Slayn also froze. Etoh frowned at the sorcerer in concern. "What is it?"
Trent paused as his danger sense started picking up something BIG. "Deed..."
"Shh!"
The two elves crouched low behind what might have once been a wall or pillar as thundering footsteps began. Very soon, the source of those footsteps chose to reveal itself.
It resembled a cross between a giraffe and a hippo; at least if both animals had scales. The body was squat and heavy, set on four pillar-like limbs. The neck was long and flexible, probably longer than the thick, heavy tail dragging behind it. At the top was the lizard-like head, the skull altered just enough for both eyes to face forward. Oh yeah, and about thirty spikes sticking around the base of the skull.
Trent grimaced at the large creature, his sword make a slithery noise as it left its sheath. "Get out of here, I'll see if I can distract him."
"Don't be an idiot!" Deed snapped, instantly regretting it as the dragon heard her. Heck, you could see it by the way her ears dropped.
Trent shook his head as the things head protruded into the much shorter tunnel they had yet to leave. No time for finesse... As the throat and mouth seemed to bulge, Trent grabbed Deed and dove into one of the remaining shadows. Resolutely ignoring the fact that he was currently 'glomping' a very attractive young girl who had shown interest in him, he re-emerged about forty yards away.
One can assume that Karla had given the dragon a temporary ability to sense a heck of a lot more than you'd expect from such a stupid animal. At least, that was Trent's assumption (he didn't know it was Karla, but it had to be somebody) as the thing almost instantly turned back to face him.
"Come on, quickly!" he barked to Deed. He winced as she was still apparently disoriented. He'd been worried about that; shadow walking tended to give vertigo to anyone who wasn't so used to it that they could do it themselves. Which meant he was stuck with approximate human speed and a hundred extra pounds of elf to carry. Not the best conditions to fight a dragon with.
He still had enough strength and such that he could dodge the dragon for a few minutes, but it didn't last long. Inevitably, his foot caught on a pile of loose rocks. By this time, the dragon was getting pissed off, and had decided to just torch him rather than try to eat him. Wincing, Trent pumped what little energy he had into a defensive spell. Not a whole lot, but hopefully one of them would survive.
Looking up at the dragon's fire streaming to either side of him, he detachedly wondered how THAT was happening. At least until he heard Etoh scream their names. Oh. Slayn's spell, not mine.
Ghim and Woodchuck came charging towards the mage, only to literally skid to a halt as they noticed the several tons of pissed off fire-breathing reptile. "Bloody hell..." (that was Woodchuck, by the way. Ghim very seldom curses.)
Trent leapt over the dragon's tail as it lashed towards the new nuisance, thankfully without Deed in his arms as she'd come to. She was WAY too distracting. The tail swipe ended up slamming into the other four to different degrees; stunning the dwarf for a second, knocking the priest and thief off their feet, and KO-ing Slayn. Woodchuck glared at the creature. "God damn it, that thing's gonna EAT us whole."
Ghim's hands tightened on his axe as Trent began baiting the dragon. "Guess that means we'll just have to eat it first, doesn't it."
Okay, time for Dragonslaying 101. There are four types of dragons on Lodoss; Wyverns, Thunder Dragons, Great Dragons, and Ancient Dragons. Wyverns are the flying dragons the knights of Moss ride on, while Great Dragons generally keep to themselves in the wilds of untamed Lodoss. Ancient Dragons average between two and four hundred meters in length with the mass of a World War two Frigate; not much you can do against them unless you're another equally big dragon, a mage capable of incinerating cities on a whim, or one of two hundred thousand or so soldiers with catapults and ballista.
Fortunately, the dragon we're dealing with is a Thunder Dragon. Big, strong, slow, and dumb. You see, the problem with these behemoths is that not much can hurt them. Unlike say a porcupine, their underbellies aren't all that much softer than their upper bodies; both are covered in scales that have the general consistency of shield metal. You can cut it, but not very easily.
As such, you have to go for one of two vulnerable spots; you can stab or slash the large arteries at the base of the jaw, or ram a sword (a spear is actually better) into the eye and try to pierce the brain. Which is actually harder, given that you're trying to hit a melon-sized object in a skull the size of a hogshead barrel. Neither one is particularly easy.
And after this brief and mostly useless educational moment, we return you to the previous carnage.
Trent winced as he dodged. There wasn't actually a class called 'Dragonslaying 101,' but dear old dad had taught him what to do if this happened. Ideally, that meant running away, but it wasn't an option here. SOOOOO, he had to kill it. Which was more a matter of patience, dodging, and luck than actual sword skill. Oh, allies to keep it distracted help too.
Deed gasped as he dodged a near-miss of the jaws. Turning to the dwarf she glared at him. "What are you doing there?! Go help him!"
Ghim didn't take his eyes off the dragon. "Silence! A dwarf fights by his own customs."
Just before Deed decided 'to hell with it' and charged, Ghim leapt down and beat her to it. He'd timed it almost perfectly; he reached the dragon just as it had tried to eat Trent for what must have been the seventh time in the past minute or two. Leaping into the air, he brought the axe down in the snout of the dragon. Not much flesh or nerve tissue to damage, but enough to get the dragon REALLY pissed off (no, I had no crocodile hunter pun intended).
The end result of that particular attack? A two hundred pound dwarf 'Whoa'ing around as it was shaken like a rat being shaken by a dog. At least until the axe was dislodged. Having dealt with that particular annoyance, the dragon paused just long enough for Wood to take aim and plant one of his daggers into its eye. Unlike Ghim's attack, Wood's hurt like hell.
Trent grinned tightly as the dragon reared back completely, his throat exposed. Leaping upward, his katana made a neat crescent-moon slash, severing both artery and vein in one blow. Landing he gestured for the exit. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here!" The other five were only too happy to oblige.
Etoh grinned in relief as they finally reached sunshine. "We made it!"
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Wort seemed genuinely amused at the sight in his crystal ball of the six of them making it out none the worse for wear. "The danger has been successfully passed, just as I told you it would be. Now what?"
Despite her failure, Karla didn't seem terribly unhappy. "Let us wait. The game has yet to finish."
Wort shrugged, turning back to his massive spell book. "As you wish. I've nothing else that needs to be done for quite a while."
A faraway look entered Karla's eyes as she gazed into the crystal. "That the scales of Fate shall balance history...that is all that I desire."
to be continued...
(Author's Note: Something that you have to understand about literature, stories, and other types of writing is the cliche. Most people think of them as the tools of lazy writers (which I admittedly am), but you really do have to understand; cliches get started because they're true. It's the same with stereotypes; at least to some extent they're true. So understand that I'm not just trying to be funny or lazy when I say...)
...It was a dark and stormy night.
The rain wasn't quite so bad as it might have been, nor was the wind. It was still not the most comfortable place, but the wind, rain, and cold were not the main factor. The lightning was. Almost as though heaven itself was battling, bolts of brilliant, incandescent lightning cracked ominously, splitting trees more often than not.
Near an old ruin carved into the living rock of a cliff face, six travelers approached, all covered from head to foot in hooded rain cloaks. One stood over six in height, another barley topping four. The other four ranged from fix three to five ten in their heights, but any other identifying marks were obscured by their hoods.
One of the shorter of the two reached for the cowl of their hood as though to speak, when the one in the front of them began walking into the ruin. The figure seemed to heave a sigh, but followed.
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Within the ruins, the cloaks came off to reveal their owners. "So, this is the Dwarves Great Tunnel, eh?" came Woodchuck's voice.
Slayn nodded. "It must have been home to many a skilled dwarf craftsman," he said as he took in the rich masonry. Hardly a single inch of the pillars and walls had been left unadorned. Everything was covered by rich engravings and sculpture. Near the edges of the tunnel's entrance, the gutters ended in gargoyles resembling Chinese lions, tubes protruding from their mouths.
Ghim, the dwarf, frowned as he approached the walls. Reaching towards the face of a ram carved into a pillar, he idly crushed the brittle rock. Though a dwarf, and a great deal stronger than he looked, crushing the rock when it had been newly made would have been impossible. "That was a long time ago."
Woodchuck frowned comically. "Um, we're not really going through there, are we?"
Slayn smiled. "We have little choice in the matter. This is the fastest way to get to Valis from Wort's tower."
Deedlit frowned as she looked around. "Ew, it smells so moldy down here."
Never one to forego a chance to needle the high elf, Ghim chose to bark back. "Silence! It's bad enough having an elf disgracing the home of my ancestors!"
"I beg your pardon?!"
Etoh ran between them, desperate for damage control. "Ghim! Deed! Stop that!"
Trent rolled his eyes. "War is breaking out. Save the fighting for when we have something to kill."
Deedlit glared back at the dark elf's patronizing voice. Further arguments were forestalled however, as...well, something began happening to the gargoyles adorning the walls. As though they were shaking off old clothes or stretching, the massive, winged stone creatures began to writhe and shift from stone to flesh. The six adventurers gasped as the creatures began diving for them. Swords were produced by the two elves; Ghim's battle-axe came to the ready.
Above them, Woodchuck somehow managed to bend nearly completely in half to dodge the swoop from one of the creatures, only to find one behind him. He frantically ran, only to shudder to a halt as he realized that he only had about fifteen feet of space to run in. He spun to face the aerial charging gargoyle, grabbing its jaw as it knocked him from his perch. In the midair fall, he managed to yank out his dagger and viciously slash open the thing's throat, reducing it back to rocks just after it had served its purpose as a living cushion.
Slayn jerked his crook-shaped mage staff towards a doorway leading deeper into the tunnel. "Get out of here quickly! We're sitting ducks out here!" As the five of them managed to sprint deeper into the catacombs, Slayn braced himself, his staff held in front. His eyes closed as he began to focus, drawing on the power around him
"Source of all power, come to my aid. Let you be guided by my hand against these false ones. You, whose natures have been cloaked, cast off these false garments and reveal your true selves!"
The words held quiet command, their power manifesting. Each word caused the world to shift minutely, bit by bit, until it whipped the air at his feet into a swirling wall of power. The gargoyles swooped towards him, only to bounce off a wall of force, invisible until the moment of impact. As the spell did its work, each gargoyle impacting was reduced to its original stone, and then into rubble.
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Deeper in the catacombs, the other six had managed to lose their sense of danger with remarkable speed. Woodchuck tsked sadly as he gazed at the head of a goat-like creature carved from marble. "Man, I could have gotten a good price if this were complete."
Deed...well, 'gushed' is the only appropriate term that comes to mind as she slipped on a large, necklace made from circular plates of hammered and engraved gold. "Oh, it's so beautiful!" She turned to Trent eagerly. "What do you think?"
Trent sweat-dropped at the perky elf-girl. "Um, we kind of don't have time for that Deed."
Etoh shot forward as she began twitching at Trent's casual dismissal. "It suits you! Really!"
"Thank you..."
Ghim turned swiftly back to the entrance; he at least had chosen to remain wary. "Who's there?"
The answer turned out to be the tapping of Slayn's staff as he walked in, slightly winded by his spell. "It's alright." He frowned, shaking his head. "It's almost as though some kind of evil force is spreading across all of Lodoss."
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Several days travel to the northeast stood the tower of Wort. An Arch mage, he had played a pivotal role in the fall of the demon almost twenty years ago. Now, he had become a recluse in his tower, pondering the world and the magic around him
An old man, he was no longer the powerful, wise, but headstrong mage who had battled wars and goblins. Shorter now, his long white hair was drawn into a wispy mane trailing down his back. He frowned as a locus of mage energy drifted into his lair, the only visible herald the small wind kicking up enough to begin drifting his pages.
"They say that the march of time spares no one. I have come to wonder if that is true."
Wort frowned as the Grey Witch materialized before him. "Who are you?"
"Was it really so long ago? Have you forgotten the battle in the labyrinth? Your companions the six heroes?" As Wort's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the now chillingly familiar circlet, she continued. "Ah, I see the recognition beginning to dawn. Have you forgotten how you vowed to protect me just before you charged that demon? My dear Wort."
His eyes widened in shock. "But that...you..."
"What is a body? A garment, to be worn and discarded over the ages." Her chilling, echoing laugh only caused his eyes to narrow.
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Woodchuck groaned in exasperation as they followed Ghim. "How much longer is this going to take, huh? We've been walking for hours!"
Ghim snorted. "What, you expected a little mining shaft? The size of the Dwarves's Great Tunnel is legendary!"
Deed's walk became a bit closer to a strut as they continued. "Hmph. I suppose it's only natural for this to take forever, what with the dwarf leading us," she calmly stated much to Etoh's amusement.
Woodchuck snorted in turn. "Whatever. Just get us out of here in one piece! I don't fancy losing my head down here."
"Relax kid. This isn't some sorcerer's labyrinth. As long as we keep going forward, we'll eventually reach the end."
As they passed yet another left behind treasure, Deed paused. Imbedded in the rock of the wall was sheathed a long rapier, the hilt worked in rings of gold in ivory, richly detailed in flowers, leaves, and vines; the pommel a dragon's skull. She gasped as she got a closer look at the incredible blade. "How beautiful..."
Ghim froze at her voice, spinning. "NO! DON'T TOUCH IT!"
The elf froze at his bellow. Unfortunately, she'd already touched it (you DID see that coming, right?). Just WHY it was unfortunate became rather apparent as the alcove began sinking into the ground, the blocks of the wall beginning to distend.
Trent shot back towards her, grasping her left hand. "Let go of the damn thing already!"
"I can't! It's stuck!"
Trent ground his teeth as he tried to brace himself. Time had taken its toll on the dwarven masonry however, giving way under his feet and dragging him down the tunnel with her.
"Deed! Trent!"
Woodchuck stared as they started whizzing downward. "Ah, bloody hell..."
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Fahn stared impassively into the distance over the battlements of Castle Roid. He hadn't specifically asked for it, but the original architect had added a balcony onto the main throne room. If nothing else, it was nice to simply see the land he ruled. Good for thinking, when you needed it.
He frowned as the memories of perhaps a week ago returned, of his last meeting with the dark elf.
"So, you're leaving?"
Trent nodded quietly. "Wort is the only one who might have any information concerning Karla, and we need all the help we can get. She's much stronger than anything else we might come to face."
Fahn nodded as Trent stood. His eyes widened at the sight of the lacquered black wood of the slightly curved sword slung on his back. "That sword..."
Trent paused, turning back. "This sword is one of two that my father owned before me. He gave me this as something of a coming of age gift fifteen years ago."
"What...was your father's name?"
"...Sirius. Sirius Shadowlight."
Fahn sighed. "Trent...survive." He turned at the sound of steel on marble. "King Kashue."
The mercenary king nodded calmly to his ally. "Thinking of those six?" At the older man's nod, he allowed himself a small grin. "I hate to admit it, but I like the elf. Nothing like one's taught of his race."
Fahn nodded calmly, staring at the ground. "I never in a thousand years thought I might someday meet Kale's son. No...no, that's not true. I think, deep down I knew I'd meet him someday. It was inevitable."
Kashue frowned in thought at the unfamiliar name, his eyes widening in mixed shock and horror as he recognized it. "Kale?!"
Fahn nodded, turning back to look into the west. "I'm old, Kashue. I'm getting older everyday; older and weaker. And yet, I have never felt weaker or more helpless than on the day that man died for me." Ignoring Kashue's reaction to those words, he continued to stare into the distance. "Trent...please return alive."
--------
The dark elf in question was currently groaning as he picked himself up from the ground. He wasn't injured or anything, just kind of sore from the less-than-gentle landing. "You know, maybe we should start listening to Ghim, at least while we're in his people's tunnels."
Deed had the grace to look sheepish. "Um, I suppose you're right. Any idea where we are?"
Trent shook his head. "In the ground deeper than we used to be. Besides that, I haven't the faintest idea."
Deed sighed deeply. Knowing Ghim, she'd never hear the end of this. "Can you shadow-walk us out of here?"
Trent shook his head. "I can get us up to half a mile away from here; that's about the limit of my powers. Problem is, I don't have any idea where the rest of our group will end up. We'll have to find another way out." Looking around, he paused as he kicked some kind of rock. He frowned as he examined it; the curve was far too smooth and uniform to be natural. "What is this? Some kind of mural?"
Deed knelt down to look at it for a moment. "It looks like a part of a much bigger painting. Hang on a moment." Standing, she began to draw power from her surroundings. "Spirit of Light, mother which nourishes plants, come forth and dispels this darkness."
The tiny orb of light formed, then rose into the air. Near the domed apex, it opened, beginning to shine over the image.
Trent stared in rapt wonder at the almost living painting. It showed a huge battlefield, so many people on it that they couldn't even be individualized; hundreds of thousands without a doubt. What made it epic however were the images he recognized as various gods and goddesses of the Forcerian pantheon, alongside hundreds of ancient dragons. "That's..."
Deed nodded. "I've heard the legend. Supposedly, the god Falaris led an army against Falis, the supreme. It's the myth of Lodoss's creation. The gods were so strong that their own power destroyed them."
Trent shook his head. "So much power, and all they could do with it was kill. Some times I wonder what makes gods better than men if they also fight wars."
Deed frowned slightly at him. "Odd sentiments from an assassin, aren't they?"
Trent shrugged helplessly. "I never said I enjoyed war. War is for warriors, not me."
Deed smiled, shaking her head as she strolled past him. "I can't understand you in the least; you're nothing like any of the elves I've ever met. Though, I suppose that's what's attractive." She smiled, spinning around him; incidentally leaving him with the general sensation of being malletted in the back of the head (you know, absolute shock and a loss of coherent thought).
--------
"I call to my staff the power to dispel this darkness."
Woodchuck whistled appreciatively as Slayn's walking stick took on the appearance of a halogen torch. "That's handy."
Slayn nodded. Light spells like this were among the simplest, most common he knew of; a fair amount of adventurers had enough magical know-how to pull it off. "We need to find the others as soon as possible."
Ghim waved it aside, pulling of his glove. "Relax." Sucking a fingertip for a moment then holding it to the breeze, he nodded in satisfaction as he replaced the glove. "One of those two elves will be able to follow the air currents to get back to the exit."
Woodchuck laughed openly. "Didn't expect that from you. You're always harping on about that elf girl, it's a wonder you're being civil at all."
"Shut your hole! Dwarves don't let their dislikes blind them to what a person can do!"
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure..."
--------
Deed took a deep, even breath. This wasn't too hard, it just took some time. "Maiden Sylph, let your air currents guide us to the surface." As she continued her invocation, the air around her began to blow upwards, sending her cape and hair whipping in a centered breeze around her. "Maiden Sylph, let your air currents guide us to the surface." Fluidly finishing the spell, she leapt off the pedestal she'd chosen to cast from. The spell made her hyper-aware of the ebb and flow of the wind in the tunnels; the air would naturally flow towards the outside. "Thank you, Sylph."
Trent smiled as she touched down.
--------
Wort stared incredulously at her. "You, Karla, also known as the Grey Witch? What are you doing here? What is your purpose?"
Karla's small, chilling smile never wavered. "Do you know of the dragon that is said to guard the gates at the end of the Dwarves Great Tunnel?"
Wort's eyes narrowed suspiciously as power began playing across her circlet.
--------
As Ghim had put it, the size of the Dwarves's great tunnel was legendary. If you didn't stop to rest at any time, you could possibly make it through in a single day; it was easily twenty miles long of masonry.
And unfortunately, it was very, very tall. Tall enough for large, four- legged, fire-breathing reptiles.
Deed gasped as she sensed the magic awakening a great force.
Deeper in the caverns, Slayn also froze. Etoh frowned at the sorcerer in concern. "What is it?"
Trent paused as his danger sense started picking up something BIG. "Deed..."
"Shh!"
The two elves crouched low behind what might have once been a wall or pillar as thundering footsteps began. Very soon, the source of those footsteps chose to reveal itself.
It resembled a cross between a giraffe and a hippo; at least if both animals had scales. The body was squat and heavy, set on four pillar-like limbs. The neck was long and flexible, probably longer than the thick, heavy tail dragging behind it. At the top was the lizard-like head, the skull altered just enough for both eyes to face forward. Oh yeah, and about thirty spikes sticking around the base of the skull.
Trent grimaced at the large creature, his sword make a slithery noise as it left its sheath. "Get out of here, I'll see if I can distract him."
"Don't be an idiot!" Deed snapped, instantly regretting it as the dragon heard her. Heck, you could see it by the way her ears dropped.
Trent shook his head as the things head protruded into the much shorter tunnel they had yet to leave. No time for finesse... As the throat and mouth seemed to bulge, Trent grabbed Deed and dove into one of the remaining shadows. Resolutely ignoring the fact that he was currently 'glomping' a very attractive young girl who had shown interest in him, he re-emerged about forty yards away.
One can assume that Karla had given the dragon a temporary ability to sense a heck of a lot more than you'd expect from such a stupid animal. At least, that was Trent's assumption (he didn't know it was Karla, but it had to be somebody) as the thing almost instantly turned back to face him.
"Come on, quickly!" he barked to Deed. He winced as she was still apparently disoriented. He'd been worried about that; shadow walking tended to give vertigo to anyone who wasn't so used to it that they could do it themselves. Which meant he was stuck with approximate human speed and a hundred extra pounds of elf to carry. Not the best conditions to fight a dragon with.
He still had enough strength and such that he could dodge the dragon for a few minutes, but it didn't last long. Inevitably, his foot caught on a pile of loose rocks. By this time, the dragon was getting pissed off, and had decided to just torch him rather than try to eat him. Wincing, Trent pumped what little energy he had into a defensive spell. Not a whole lot, but hopefully one of them would survive.
Looking up at the dragon's fire streaming to either side of him, he detachedly wondered how THAT was happening. At least until he heard Etoh scream their names. Oh. Slayn's spell, not mine.
Ghim and Woodchuck came charging towards the mage, only to literally skid to a halt as they noticed the several tons of pissed off fire-breathing reptile. "Bloody hell..." (that was Woodchuck, by the way. Ghim very seldom curses.)
Trent leapt over the dragon's tail as it lashed towards the new nuisance, thankfully without Deed in his arms as she'd come to. She was WAY too distracting. The tail swipe ended up slamming into the other four to different degrees; stunning the dwarf for a second, knocking the priest and thief off their feet, and KO-ing Slayn. Woodchuck glared at the creature. "God damn it, that thing's gonna EAT us whole."
Ghim's hands tightened on his axe as Trent began baiting the dragon. "Guess that means we'll just have to eat it first, doesn't it."
Okay, time for Dragonslaying 101. There are four types of dragons on Lodoss; Wyverns, Thunder Dragons, Great Dragons, and Ancient Dragons. Wyverns are the flying dragons the knights of Moss ride on, while Great Dragons generally keep to themselves in the wilds of untamed Lodoss. Ancient Dragons average between two and four hundred meters in length with the mass of a World War two Frigate; not much you can do against them unless you're another equally big dragon, a mage capable of incinerating cities on a whim, or one of two hundred thousand or so soldiers with catapults and ballista.
Fortunately, the dragon we're dealing with is a Thunder Dragon. Big, strong, slow, and dumb. You see, the problem with these behemoths is that not much can hurt them. Unlike say a porcupine, their underbellies aren't all that much softer than their upper bodies; both are covered in scales that have the general consistency of shield metal. You can cut it, but not very easily.
As such, you have to go for one of two vulnerable spots; you can stab or slash the large arteries at the base of the jaw, or ram a sword (a spear is actually better) into the eye and try to pierce the brain. Which is actually harder, given that you're trying to hit a melon-sized object in a skull the size of a hogshead barrel. Neither one is particularly easy.
And after this brief and mostly useless educational moment, we return you to the previous carnage.
Trent winced as he dodged. There wasn't actually a class called 'Dragonslaying 101,' but dear old dad had taught him what to do if this happened. Ideally, that meant running away, but it wasn't an option here. SOOOOO, he had to kill it. Which was more a matter of patience, dodging, and luck than actual sword skill. Oh, allies to keep it distracted help too.
Deed gasped as he dodged a near-miss of the jaws. Turning to the dwarf she glared at him. "What are you doing there?! Go help him!"
Ghim didn't take his eyes off the dragon. "Silence! A dwarf fights by his own customs."
Just before Deed decided 'to hell with it' and charged, Ghim leapt down and beat her to it. He'd timed it almost perfectly; he reached the dragon just as it had tried to eat Trent for what must have been the seventh time in the past minute or two. Leaping into the air, he brought the axe down in the snout of the dragon. Not much flesh or nerve tissue to damage, but enough to get the dragon REALLY pissed off (no, I had no crocodile hunter pun intended).
The end result of that particular attack? A two hundred pound dwarf 'Whoa'ing around as it was shaken like a rat being shaken by a dog. At least until the axe was dislodged. Having dealt with that particular annoyance, the dragon paused just long enough for Wood to take aim and plant one of his daggers into its eye. Unlike Ghim's attack, Wood's hurt like hell.
Trent grinned tightly as the dragon reared back completely, his throat exposed. Leaping upward, his katana made a neat crescent-moon slash, severing both artery and vein in one blow. Landing he gestured for the exit. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here!" The other five were only too happy to oblige.
Etoh grinned in relief as they finally reached sunshine. "We made it!"
--------
Wort seemed genuinely amused at the sight in his crystal ball of the six of them making it out none the worse for wear. "The danger has been successfully passed, just as I told you it would be. Now what?"
Despite her failure, Karla didn't seem terribly unhappy. "Let us wait. The game has yet to finish."
Wort shrugged, turning back to his massive spell book. "As you wish. I've nothing else that needs to be done for quite a while."
A faraway look entered Karla's eyes as she gazed into the crystal. "That the scales of Fate shall balance history...that is all that I desire."
to be continued...
