Chapter 96: A Plea for Help

Harrian now felt quite optimistic now, comparatively at least. The map he had bought from Carlig was quite precise, however it had been made, and rendered navigation in the Underdark a far easier task than it had been with the pointless scrap of paper from the library in the temple of Oghma, and he now had a vague idea of what he was doing.

This environment, was obviously, very alien to him. He didn't have a clue what he was doing, really, because he had no experience of the Underdark, no knowledge of how to act or how life went by beyond that which he had read in books. And although he'd been brought up in Candlekeep, the ultimate library, books didn't quite equal hands-on experience in this sort of situation.

And thus it made perfect sense to subsequently go to find those who had the experience he lacked. It was a pity those Duergar weren't of the area – though they had obviously been around long enough for their encampment to earn its own mark on the map; perhaps it was a regular camping spot for a nomadic group? – or they would have done the job admirably. He had gold, which was all they'd really want here, and as such had safe enough passage to gain their assistance.

But no, he would have to turn to the Deep Gnomes, who fortunately didn't have a reputation for hostility. Though, Harrian supposed, hostility was all relative when you were neighbours with a Drow city.

He also hoped that the Svirfneblin settlement could offer the party somewhere to stay the night, as he particularly didn't want to be sleeping out in the 'open' of the Underdark. Tales of mind flayers and Beholders and all manner of strange and scary creatures came to mind at this, and he didn't want to lie around, presenting a defenceless and tasty snack for some of them.

The party was flagging, he could see. They had departed from Athkatla in the late morning, and that had been about six hours ago – he couldn't tell for sure, what with the lack of the sun. Although this was not the heaviest march they had ever done, the oppressive atmosphere and tension within the group didn't help. Harrian predicted that perhaps a half hour's rest would have everyone refreshed and able to carry on, but it seemed unnecessary to pause when they were so near the Svirfneblin village and they could possibly hang up their equipment for the rest of the day and relax.

As they marched around a hulking rock bundle, a small, rickety rope bridge up ahead over a gaping chasm became visible. The slats were made of some mysterious substance other than wood, and the rope had come from an unknown source, but the bridge looked stable, and solid. What filled them with both confidence and apprehension was the small group of gnomes gathered around the near end of the bridge, evidently guarding.

One of them, a smartly armoured and helmeted one who was evidently the leader, detached himself from the group nervously, short sword drawn guardedly. "Edo, od golver d'tanyon! Da sugden os tera!"

"You know, I'm really getting kinda sick of all of this Underdark speech," Imoen muttered under her breath intolerantly, eliciting a small smirk from Harrian, which the swashbuckler tried to hide quickly so as to remain polite in front of the gnomes.

"Ah… uh, I don't quite understand you. Do you speak Common?" he asked, keeping his words slow, his stance easy and open, praying that, if they couldn't understand his words, they could at least see that his body language was unthreatening.

The leader of the guard visibly relaxed, though he didn't lower his sword. "Surfacers? What are you doing here? Stand and identify yourselves!" he instructed, and although his words were hard, the tone was a little blander as the speaker visibly struggled with the foreign language.

Harrian bowed his head slightly. "I am Harrian, and I assure you, mean you no harm. We are indeed surfacers, and we request assistance from you. Is their any way we could speak with the village's leader, or… whatever?" His voice trailed off weakly as he once again noted his own lack of preparation. For a moment he wished that they had brought Viconia, the drow they had freed from religious fanatics in Athkatla, along with them, until he realised that she would have probably merely created more discord within the party. Not needed.

"Certainly you are not a resident of this place," the head of the guard replied, lowering his sword slowly and giving his fellows glares until they also lowered theirs. "Come here you should not, though… useful you may be," he continued, looking contemplative. "You may enter, but on your best behaviour be. Go and speak to the Lord of our fair granitehome. He will see to your wellbeing."

Harrian smiled as sincere a smile as he could muster with his mood darkened by the gloomy environment, and nodded gratefully. "My thanks. We shall not interfere or trouble you in any way, if we can avoid it," he replied appreciatively.

The group stepped gingerly over the odd bridge, and into the odd settlement beyond. Although there were certain aspects of the village which were distinctly gnomish, there was definitely an alien air to the place, one which was made even more disturbing by the fact that the settlement seemed almost abandoned, with nobody obviously out in the streets or even in the houses.

So they entered the first building they found which had any obvious signs of life in it, which was a fairly large, hulking structure that had all the hallmarks of being some sort of town centre. As they stooped to enter, nothing was particularly evident beyond the large table, made from the same wood substitute as the bridge, and a small, worn looking gnome perched at the far end of it, surrounded by papers and books and plans of all natures… made of whatever passed for paper down here.

At their silent arrival, the gnome looked up. Although he smiled brightly, his face was worn with worry, and his eyes sunken and haunted. "Ah, travellers to our fair city," he greeted them warmly but cautiously. "That would be rare enough, but you are surfacers by the look of you." He stood up, gesturing to some of the gnome-sized chairs about the table, ignoring the fact that some of his guests, like Minsc, were almost bent double by standing in the room. "I'd presume the captain of the guard let you in. Come, I would have words with you, if you are willing to hear," he offered.

Harrian nodded slowly, diplomatically taking a chair and glaring at the others until they awkwardly followed suit. "My thanks. He did indeed let us in, and mentioned something of how we might be 'useful'. We require your help – if there is anything we can do for you in return, please tell us."

The gnome nodded. "First, let me introduce myself. I am Goldander Blackenrock, leader of this settlement."

Harrian smiled slightly. "Harrian Corias, adventurer. We surfacers may well be able to help you here."

Goldander nodded slowly. "It is a matter that I would prefer to trust to an outsider. Too much Svirfneblin blood has been spilled over this as it is," he replied gravely, frowning sadly. "We desperately need your assistance, but I shall tell you what the problem is before you decide whether or not to agree. I tap rock you do."

The gnome started to pace slowly, frowning a little as he gestured about the room. "As you can see, our granitehome village is quite empty. I have sent the majority of my people down to deeper climes, for their own safety. That their safety has been compromised is our own fault." He sighed and perched on the table so he was at eye-level with Harrian, ignoring how comical the larger surfacers seemed, cramped in the gnome-sized building. "We tunnelled too deep recently, and unearthed a monstrosity," he intoned gravely, his voice oddly losing strength as he spoke. "A strange cavern that yielded death, a monster we have not seen outside of dreaming. I wish only for you to kill the beast and close the tunnel."

Jaheira leant forwards slowly, frowning. "Could you just not simply collapse the tunnel on top of the beast? That would either kill it or, at the very least, block it from getting to the city," she suggested quietly.

Goldander shrugged a little flippantly. "Oh, the tunnel will readily collapse, of that we are sure. What is unsure is whether that would kill the beast now that it is awakened," he replied, oddly casual.

Imoen stared ahead, colour draining from her face a little. "A… awakened?" she echoed numbly, looking at Goldander pleadingly. "Please tell me that you mean it was hibernating and not… otherworldly."

Haer'Dalis patted her arm comfortingly, though his expression was not one of concern. "I have encountered beasts that were 'awakened' before. This is no natural animal, is it," he said, half to Imoen, half to Goldander. His last sentence was not a question.

Goldander stood again, pacing once more. "As I said, it is a beast out of dreams, or nightmares, if you prefer. It is not of the rock. I do not know what to call it," he replied falteringly, shaking his head and not looking at them.

Harrian nodded slowly. "Very well. Our goal is clear then," he declared at last. "I will kill this beast for you, if in return you help me." He looked Goldander in the eye as the gnome glanced at him inquisitively. "My friends and I are searching for a way to get into the Drow city of Ust Natha."

Goldander, to his credit, did not seem too taken aback by this statement. "That, I can help you with. Save our city, and I promise that I shall help you. I cannot get you into the city myself, but I can show you the way to one who most certainly can."