14th Day of Coldeven, 565 CY
Highport, The Pomarj
"You know, there's just one thing I can't understand!" Elrohir shouted out over the sounds of combat.
Aslan, similarly engaged, managed to yell back, "And what is that, Elrohir?"
The ranger ducked under one sword swing and caught another one on his shield. "Orcs are violent, chaotic creatures by nature!"
The paladin parried one sword swing but grunted as another one cut yet another gash in his plate mail. "So?" He yelled, not feeling in a very conversational mood at the moment.
"So how in the Nine Hells did they ever manage to make an alliance with these things?" Elrohir shouted back.
The two swords assailing him were both being wielded by a single being, an aspis. The drone continued to press the attack relentlessly.
"Insect men" seemed, in hindsight, a rather weak description for these beings. They looked like nothing so much as 6' tall boll weevils, each with a long proboscis and compound eyes. Their black exoskeletons seemed as least as hard as plate mail, and each one carried two longswords and two wooden shields, all of apparently orcish make. They made constant chittering and clacking noises as they attacked.
Elrohir glanced over to his left, where Nesco was battling her own aspis drone. She looked over at him and grimaced.
"I think we're going to have to call that one of the Great Unanswerable Questions, Elrohir!" his fellow ranger shouted.
He didn't answer. The drones were pushing all three humans hard now, and there was no more room for idle chatter. This was especially true for Aslan and Nesco, who bore lit torches in their left hands instead of their shields, there being no ambient light down here.
We need a tactical advantage, Elrohir thought. And we need one soon. He took in another scan of the chamber, hoping to see something he had overlooked before.
They were standing just inside the only entrance of a circular chamber carved out of the earth, about twenty feet in diameter. The three fighters had been dismayed after descending the ladder below the trap door to quickly find themselves in slowly flowing sewage that ranged anywhere from three to five feet deep. After a short encounter with some aspis larvae (which had been more annoying than dangerous), they had noticed four exits rising up out of the sewage. One was a brick and stone passage, the other three being dirt tunnels, only about four feet high. If Elrohir had not noticed what he thought were relatively fresh orc tracks leading into one of the dirt tunnels, they would of course have taken the larger exit.
Guess that makes this my fault, the ranger thought somberly. I literally got us into this.
The unnaturally pale-skinned, naked orc corpse lying by the far wall (which they saw as soon as they entered) was Elrohir's first clue that his tracking skills might not have been quite as infallible as he would have guessed. The second clue was the three drones present (whose tracks he had somehow missed), which attacked on sight, just as Argo had predicted they would.
Elrohir saw nothing that could help them. The orc corpse seemed to indicate that even the aspis' erstwhile allies were not immune to their wrath. It lay stretched out on the packed earthen floor among the white ovoids.
The ranger's eyes narrowed.
There were about twenty of them, about a foot long or so. If they hadn't just seen in the previous room what an aspis larvae looked like, Elrohir would have been at a complete loss as to what the ovoids might be. Now, he had an idea.
In fact, he had more than one idea.
"Aslan! Nesco!" he shouted. "Follow my lead!"
The ranger began to move around his opponent, all the while fighting defensively. The aspis, of course, turned to face him as they battled. His two compatriots did as he did, although they were clearly puzzled. As the drones continued to bear down on them, all three of them were now slowly backing further into the chamber.
"Care to share your strategy with us, Elrohir?" the paladin called out as he managed to puncture his attacker's exoskeleton with his sword. A little dark, viscous fluid came out, but there was no other appreciable effect.
Elrohir shook his head. "They may not be able to speak Common, Aslan, but I'm not so sure they can't understand it! Just stay with me!"
Grimacing, the other two followed suit, backing up slowly. Soon, all three were standing near the white ovoids. If anything, the drones were attacking more fiercely than ever.
Elrohir shot a quick glance with what he hoped was a confident smile at Nesco, and then over at Aslan. "You ever use a child as a shield before in battle, Aslan?" he asked loudly.
The paladin was taken aback. "What? Are you mad? Of course not, Elrohir!"
A passion flew up in the ranger's deep blue eyes as a fierce smile appeared on his face.
"Then let me show you how it's done!" he yelled. With that, Elrohir bent down, dropped his shield and scooped one of the white ovoids in his left hand. As he had guessed, this was an aspis egg. He now wielded it as he would a shield.
His drone seemed shaken. It continued to attack with its swords, but they were more tentative ventures now. It was clearly unwilling to risk harm to the egg. Seeing this, Elrohir's two allies quickly followed suit.
The change was not dramatic, but it was enough. The humans were now hitting more than before and being hit less in return. Soon, Aslan's drone went down as a mighty downstroke from the paladin almost cleaved it in two lengthwise. Rather than directly attacking one of the other drones, Aslan scooped up another egg and then tossed both of them at the drone battling Nesco.
The creature dropped both shields and actually caught both of the eggs, in an admirable display of dexterity. However, it paid for that a split-second later as Nesco's sword lopped off its head. The torso turned around and staggered a few paces back towards the chamber entrance before collapsing. With both Aslan and Nesco assisting, Elrohir's opponent was soon dispatched.
More chittering sounds from down the tunnel alerted the trio. When two more aspis drones entered, they were confronted by a veritable wall of eggs moving at them. It took just under a minute for the reinforcements to share the fate of their fellow drones.
Aslan glanced over at his friends. They were not looking at all well. This victory had not come without further cost. Elrohir, once again trying to clean his sword, jerked around as he felt the touch of Aslan's hand on his shoulder.
"Aslan- don't! We might need that even more, later on."
The paladin shook his head. "This is courtesy of Aslan the Paladin, not Aslan the Psionic. I'm sorry, I wish it could be more, but you're right. I am trying to conserve what little I've got left." He then moved over to Nesco and repeated the process. They were both still wounded afterwards, but that would just have to do for now.
Nesco eyed him curiously. "What about you, Aslan? Aren't you going to lay hands on yourself?"
Aslan only gave the ranger his own version of Argo's famous smile.
Nesco's face grew stormy.
"If I had known you were going to use the last of it on me, I never would have let you do it! Why didn't you tell me?"
The paladin shrugged helplessly as he began picking up the ten or so aspis eggs that were still intact. "Well Nesco, if you're going to ask and answer your own questions..."
Nesco Cynewine looked down. Like her companions, she was currently standing in about two feet of sewage. That in itself didn't bother her all that much. Fighting orcs as often as she did, she felt that this particular scent wasn't that much more to contend with.
What did bother her were the small but distinct traces of blood.
It was coming from all the scrapes, scratches and cuts on their lower legs. It moved slowly ahead of them, mixing into the lazy current. Many creatures wouldn't notice it, the ranger knew.
Others might.
Nesco was standing in the 10' wide tunnel with Aslan on her left. Elrohir was covering the rear. The male ranger had his bow out and was constantly scanning the direction they had just come from, wary of a possible attack.
Just a few minutes prior, the trio had entered another chamber with two more aspis drones. What made the ensuing combat more than the cakewalk they had planned however, were five of the giant ants that the aspis apparently liked to keep on hand. These giant vermin (each one the size of Dudraug, Elrohir noted with some amazement) cared not a whit for the aspis eggs the party held, although it was cruelly amusing to watch the drones suffer what seemed to be fits of some kind every time one of their ant allies inadvertently snapped an egg in two with their pincers while trying to attack the humans. In the end though, the fighters had triumphed with only minor additional injuries, although all the aspis eggs had been destroyed. They were now only moving through entrances that were clearly designed for use by humans or humanoids.
The large sewer tunnel they had been following had split into three smaller tunnels. They had taken the middle one for no particular reason, and now found themselves here, about twenty feet from where this tunnel bore sharply to the left.
Cynewine stopped.
After a moment, her compatriots did, as well. They looked at her curiously.
"I thought I heard voices coming from up ahead," she said softly, then fell into silence.
The others listened, but couldn't hear anything conclusive.
"Are you sure, Nesco?" Elrohir asked.
His fellow ranger did not reply. Nesco seemed to be lost in thought. It lasted only a few moments though, and then her green eyes snapped back into focus. She sheathed her sword and handed her torch to Aslan. "Here."
The paladin furrowed his brow. "What are you going to do?"
Nesco eyed him with a stern expression as she took off her helm and handed it to a perplexed Elrohir. "We need to look at this situation from another angle."
"Er, Nesco-" Elrohir began, then broke off in astonishment as Nesco got down on her hands and knees in the filthy water, and then on her belly. The dark, slimy water closed over the ranger as she flattened herself out as much as possible on the floor. Only part of her head occasionally surfaced when she needed to breathe.
Slowly, she began to inch her way forward, towards the bend in the tunnel. Elrohir and Aslan stayed put, watching.
It only took perhaps half a minute for the ranger to reach the turn, but it seemed an eternity to Nesco's friends, and twice that for the ranger herself. Elrohir and Aslan held their breaths, perhaps in sympathy, as they watched Nesco raise her head just enough to peer down the tunnel. She stayed there for perhaps another thirty seconds, and then slowly began to back up. Once out of sight, she slowly stood up and made her way back to the others.
Nesco looked bad and smelled worse. Unidentified slime clung to her hands and face, and her brown hair was black and greasy, plastered against her cheeks. She paid no attention to any of this however, as she retrieved her items from the others. "I was right," she said, looking dejected.
"Voices?" asked Elrohir. "Orcs, humans, or both?"
"The tunnel goes about thirty feet before a short but steep flight of steps leads up out of it," Lady Cynewine reported. "I saw four orcs milling about on the steps. At least two had crossbows."
"That doesn't sound too bad," Aslan assessed.
Nesco gave him a mirthless smile. "They had an ogre with them."
"Getting worse," Elrohir added.
Nesco sighed and looked at each of her companions in turn. "I could see the head of at least one more ogre behind them. There's some kind of large chamber there, a guard outpost, maybe. And I heard more orcs than I saw. Lots more. A dozen, maybe more."
The paladin sighed deeply and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Elrohir was looking right at him.
"Too many for us to take, huh?" the ranger asked, in a tone that suggested he knew the answer already.
Aslan nodded wearily in response. "Right now, I'd say yes."
"Maybe not," Nesco said quietly. "I couldn't make out the exact words, but the orcs and ogre were speaking to each other in Common."
Elrohir looked confused. "Is that relevant?"
She nodded back at him. "It might make all the difference in the world, Elrohir."
The other two fighters regarded their companion. "You holding back some kind of secret weapon, Nesco?" Aslan asked with a weak grin. "Now's the time to use it."
Nesco took a few steps towards the paladin. She was face to face with him now. Aslan's nose wrinkled, but he tried not to react out of courtesy.
Her voice was still low. "That depends on you, Aslan."
Aslan's face assumed a stony expression.
Nesco continued. "How low are you willing to go?"
The paladin seemed to be wrestling with an internal debate even as he regarded the ranger. "I hope it's a good plan you've got, Nesco."
Now it was Nesco's turn to smile again. This time, there was just a trace of genuine humor in it.
"Well, you know what they say, Aslan," she told him. "I may have the brains, but you've got the Talent."
Glarg swung his head around at the noise.
The ogre's black, beady eyes peered out from underneath enormous brows. He knew the four orcs with him were also looking down the sewage tunnel. Like him, they could hear the splashing sounds of someone approaching. Glarg didn't care about the orcs with him, however. If there any was real trouble, only he, Glarg, could handle it. If there were a reward to made here, Glarg would get it. Dimly, he also knew if someone messed up, he, Glarg, would get the bulk of the blame. He held his spear in his right hand, ready to throw, but Glarg was already thinking of how he could make himself look good in Arrn's eyes when he heard a loud voice bellow from around the corner.
"You all deaf?"
As Glarg and the others blinked in surprise, another ogre came stomping around the bend in the tunnel. Like Glarg, he was dressed in poorly cured hides. He carried no weapons, but underneath each arm hung a limp figure clad in plate mail. Humans, it looked like to Glarg. A male and a female.
He frowned. There were ogres on the surface, some of whom he didn't know, but there shouldn't be any down here that he didn't know. He tightened his grip on his spear and looked at the four orcs on the steps below him. Their stupid-looking face turned up to look at him. Of course, it was up to Glarg to figure out what to do. It always was.
The new ogre came right up the bottom of the stairs, seemingly oblivious to the weapons pointed at him. He was actually kind of handsome, Glarg thought. Kind of like himself. He decided to take charge, before one of these pigbrains beneath him opened his mouth and ruined everything.
"We hear fine!" Glarg said loudly, brandishing his spear threateningly. "Who you?"
By the High One, this idea seemed a lot better in the planning stage, Elrohir thought to himself, struggling to keep his eyes closed and his body limp in Aslan's currently-very-large right hand. This was proving to be a lot harder than he expected. It was incredibly uncomfortable for starters, and secondly the stink from the ogre was overwhelming. Elrohir just wasn't used to all this... talking with orcs, ogres, gnolls and whatnot. He didn't like it. Then again, he thought, he wasn't used to dying either, and he was pretty sure he would like that experience even less, so he concentrated hard on doing nothing and hoped Nesco was doing the same.
"Me Grock!" Aslan replied in an equally loud voice. "I been yelling for you! Why you not hear? I get in big fight down there!" He indicated the direction he had come with a twist of his head. "These humans invade from surface and kill bug men!" If not for me, they be all over you by now!"
Glarg smirked. "You not be very strong Grock, if two puny humans give you so much trouble!"
The orcs under him laughed. One reached out with a hand axe and poked at Nesco's limp form. "They dead?" he asked.
Aslan laughed. "What dead slaves worth?" he asked with a sneer. The orcs appeared to be actually trying to think up an answer for that one, so he cut them off. "Nothing!" he shouted. Why kill humans when me can knock them out and sell them to slavers? Me make big money off these two!"
The paladin saw the ogre eyeing him now. He didn't like that look.
"You no decide that," Glarg growled at the new arrival. "You give them to Chief Arrn. He take them. Decide what you get, if anything." The ogre puffed out his chest in a show of authority. "I take you to him."
Aslan shrugged. Glarg turned around and headed back into the guard chamber. Carrying his two prisoners, Aslan followed, walking up the short flight of stairs and into a large, dirt-floored chamber. As Nesco had guessed, there were almost two dozen orcs here, as well as two other ogres. Aslan tried not to meet any of their curious stares, concentrating instead on the wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling overhead.
When he turned his gaze back, Aslan realized that Glarg had stopped. He was explaining the situation to an orc who wore garish robes instead of armor. This orc, who was festooned with what looked like fetishes (a witch doctor, the paladin guessed) of some kind, glared at Aslan with his one eye and then slowly walked over to him. Sullenly, Glarg followed him.
Why have we stopped? thought both Elrohir and Nesco, but neither dared open an eye to find out.
The orc stared hard into Aslan's eyes, as if he were looking for something. Their relative size differences didn't seem to bother him at all.
"You say these two kill bug men?"
His voice was low and modulated, rare for an orc. It was unnerving.
"Yes," the paladin mumbled.
"Where?"
Despite himself, Aslan's eyes darted around. What's he getting at? He wondered and tried a nonchalant ogre shrug. "In bug men tunnels."
There was a brief silence.
"Those tunnels small," the orc witch doctor said. "Entrance to them too small for you."
Uh, oh, thought Nesco. She tensed herself. The ranger was currently hanging with her legs pointing down She knew if Aslan dropped her and Elrohir, that was the signal that their ploy had failed. She hoped she would land on her feet.
Lie, Aslan, Elrohir was praying. I don't care if you are a paladin. Think up something good, and lie your hairy ogre butt off to him!
Aslan grimaced. What would Argo say in a spot like this? He wondered, and then chastised himself mentally. Maybe I'm not the consummate liar Bigfellow is, but you'd be surprised what you can do with the truth.
He glared back at the orc, letting a slight smirk grace his face. "I see humans. Up above, in temple. They go down secret entrance. Me follow."
The witch doctor frowned. "Which secret entrance?" he asked.
"Secret entrance you not know about, it seem," Aslan smiled back.
The orc's one eye stared back, unblinking. After what might have been a short eternity, he turned and pointed at several other orcs, then said something to them in orcish. He began to head back down the stairs Aslan had come from.
He's going to check on the aspis. Checking out my story, Aslan thought. We're not going to have a lot of time to pull this off.
The witch doctor turned around before he disappeared from view. "Glarg!" he called out in Common. "You watch Grock! You watch him close!"
Then he was gone.
Glarg glared sourly at Aslan, who stared right back. "How about you watch me while we go to see Chief Arrn?"
Glarg seemed to try to think this over, then decided the mental effort involved wasn't worth the strain. "You follow," he mumbled, heading for a door in the far wall.
They passed through several common rooms, filled mostly with orc females and children. The noise was deafening, but at least these areas were lit by torches on the walls. Humans must come through here fairly regularly, thought Aslan.
Chief Arrn's room was entered through a large sturdy wooden door, unlocked by one of Arrn's eight orc guards. The two ogres bent low to enter, Aslan inadvertently banging both of his "prisoners" against the doorframe in the process. He could only silently apologize to them and hope they understood. His arms burning with pain by now, the paladin looked around the dirt chamber with a tactical eye, thankful that the tumult of the common room outside was barely audible in here.
The walls of the chief's chamber were hung with furs and worn tapestries with crude depictions of elves being tortured by orcs painted upon them. More skins and furs covered the floor. Various personal possessions were strewn here and there haphazardly. Along one wall was a raised platform stretching the length of the room. It was about five feet high and apparently reached via the benches stacked next to it on either end. On the center sat a very large orc. He was clad in bloodstained chainmail and had a large battleaxe strapped to his back. His hair was long and braided. Some braids fell over his face, but bright eyes looked out between the strands, locked first upon Aslan and his cargo, then upon Glarg as the ogre explained the situation to him as he knew it.
An ogre stood on either side of Arrn. Since they stood upon the floor, their heads were just about level with his. With an attitude of superiority, one looked contemptuously at Glarg, and the other at Aslan. Each carried a large spear in one hand and a giant club in a loop of fabric attached to a belt each one wore. At a gesture from Chief Arrn, one of them dug into a belt pouch and handed several coins to Glarg. The ogre was clearly expecting more, but it was just as clear that Glarg had already outworn his welcome. Mumbling to himself, Glarg left the room. The door was locked behind him by one of the hide-wearing orc bodyguards.
With a not-very-exaggerated sigh, Aslan gently lowered the two humans to the floor in a far corner while looking around. He stretched his arms out while looking at the other ogres and orcs. "Very impressive, Mighty Chief Arrn!" he said, very loudly. "Two ogres and eight mighty orc warriors serving you? They say on the surface that you are the true power here in the Undercity! Indeed, it must be true!"
Elrohir sighed to himself, while still keeping his eyes shut. Two ogres and nine orcs? That's not much better than what we were originally facing! I have a feeling we're not getting any further than this room without violence, though.
Chief Arrn eyed Aslan with an expression completely devoid of any positive emotion. "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice raspy and rough.
Aslan walked over to Arrn, so he stood almost eye-to-eye with the chief. "Me Grock. Me beat these two humans me find fighting bug men. Want to sell to slavers."
The orc's eyes flickered over to the two humans lying in a heap on the floor, then said something in orcish to his minions. Four of them began moving towards the duo.
"You search them well!" Aslan called out again, ignoring Arrn's eyes raking him over.
Here it comes, Elrohir and Nesco thought.
"They maybe have magic items", Aslan said. "Who knows what you find on them?"
He waited until the orcs were bending over his friends.
"Surprise time," he whispered, then grabbed the club out of the belt of the ogre next to him and swung it up and over his head directly at the head of Chief Arrn. Moving a lot faster than the paladin hoped he would, the orc chief exploded into action, rolling away to the right while getting his weapon out, but the club still caught him on his left hip, and there was a satisfying crack on impact. The ogre in front of Aslan hurled his spear at Aslan, but the paladin managed to spin out of the projectile's path, and he heard the cry of the ogre behind him as the weapon plunged into his shoulder.
Two orcs were impaled as they were reaching down for the human's swords. The others drew their weapons, but Nesco and Elrohir had gained just enough time to rise to their feet before the swords started swinging in earnest.
Fortunately, Arrn's bodyguards did not seem to be of the same caliber as some of the orcs they had faced previously. That was just as well, thought Aslan. He could use his friends' help as soon as they would be able to offer it. He backed away from the ledge, giving him a few extra seconds before Arrn would be able to attack him and traded club blows with the ogre who had thrown the spear. The other one was pulling that same spear out of his shoulder, dropping his own spear in the process.
With a bloodcurdling scream, Chief Arrn leapt off the platform, his axe already cutting an arc through the air designed to slice through Aslan's flesh as it came down. The paladin tried to dodge again, but this body was more cumbersome than the one he was used to, and the blade cut deep.
The sound of Aslan's scream cut through the shouts and yells of the rangers' combat. Elrohir and Nesco locked eyes.
"Go!" shouted Cynewine. "I'll take them!"
Elrohir put his shield up and slammed into the orc directly in front of him. The humanoid went down, but one of the remaining other three orcs still standing swung his sword at Elrohir's back as he trampled his opponent. His sword, of poor quality, bounced off the back of Elrohir's plate mail.
Both of the ogres were rushing at Aslan though, and would reach him before Elrohir could. The spear wielding one thrust his bloody-tipped weapon directly at the paladin's chest-
But Grock wasn't there anymore.
A large fly buzzed around as the spear continued on its path, plunging right into the flesh of its original owner, the other ogre, who roared in pain, his own club swing going wild.
And I thought WE had lousy team tactics, thought Elrohir as he swung at Arrn, dealing a fairly substantive blow. The orc appeared not to notice it, however.
Nesco had taken the advantage of the easiest opportunity and finished off the orc Elrohir had overran, but the other three were flanking her now, and two of them hit with their weapons. Fresh blood began to slowly seep through the joints of her plate mail.
Arrn's battleaxe swung again. Elrohir put his shield up, and barely managed to deflect the blow. The unarmed ogre bent to pick up his own spear while the other one swung his club at the ranger, and thankfully missed. Changing tactics, Elrohir feinted at Arrn, then slashed at the club wielder as his missed swing presented the ranger with an unprotected right side. Gokasillion sank deep, and Elrohir was barely able to yank the sword out in time. The ogre was screaming in pain, but still standing.
Nesco cut down another orc. One of the remaining two hit, but it was a small wound compared to the one she had just received. It seemed to Nesco as if the room was starting, very slowly, to spin.
Still seemingly in a berserk rage, Arrn attacked again. Once more, Elrohir was just able to avoid the blow. The ranger didn't know how much he had left in him. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and every single cut, gash and broken bone in his body was simultaneously clamoring for attention. Maybe I'm the one who Talass said wouldn't be coming back, he thought. On the other hand, he had no idea where Aslan was now and Nesco looked-
A fresh pain suddenly overrode all the others. A spear tip had penetrated his plate mail and several inches into his flesh. Elrohir gritted his teeth, but his scream managed to trickle out regardless. Tears filled his eyes as he realized he was on his last legs.
With a roar to match Arrn's, Elrohir swung, not at the ogre that had just struck him, but the other one. The club fell from the creature's hand as it doubled over in a vain attempt to keep its intestines inside and the ogre toppled to the floor, dead.
Nesco was trying to compensate for her increasing dizziness. Despite her handicap, her swing went true, and an orc head went flying. She faced her remaining opponent head on and parried his swinging flail. Cynewine could see over the orc's shoulder Elrohir (now facing her) battling Arrn and the remaining ogre. Her fellow ranger looked as bad as she felt, and Nesco knew their chances were pretty bleak.
Elrohir had shifted to a purely defensive mode. The ranger was trying to catch his breath, but he just couldn't do it. It hurt too much every time he inhaled. He did manage to avoid Arrn's and the ogre's latest attacks, but he knew he wasn't going to last. He was-
"Elrohir- now!"
"What?"
Aslan, back in his normal form, was standing to his right, in front of the closed door. Blood covered most of the lower half of his body, but the paladin's face was a mask of pure, solid concentration. Elrohir knew that expression.
"Aslan- don't! Save your-"
Elrohir couldn't see the rippling in the air that flowed outward from the paladin, but the effect was immediate. Both orc and ogre roared in pain and then started to run past Elrohir.
Arrn ran out through the archway on the far side of the room. The ogre tried to follow, but Gokasillion swung low and the ogre went down, yelling in pain both mental and physical.
Nesco's orc had turned slightly at the sound of his chief's scream, the only time he had ever heard Arrn scream from something other than rage. Facing Nesco Cynewine, that proved to be his last action.
Aslan came limping up. As Elrohir thrust his sword through the last ogre's chest, the paladin grabbed one of the spears from the floor and tossed it to the startled ranger. "Here," he said. "Get over by the side of the entrance."
Chief Arrn stopped running. He hadn't gone far, no more than thirty feet or so past the bend in the tunnel outside his chambers. He had no idea what had made him flee, but he knew it could only be foul human magic. Arrn feared nothing. He pivoted on his heel and headed back, roaring at the top of his lungs.
As he rounded the bend, he could see his servants lying dead on the floor within (one with a glowing sword still sticking out of its chest), but that meant nothing to him. They were easily replaced, but first he would finish off these cowardly-
As the orc barbarian passed the archway, one of the ogre's spears suddenly shot out from the left side, aimed at his neck. Quick of reflex, Arrn flung his head back, but he wasn't quite able to check his entire forward momentum, and his neck collided with the shaft. The spear did not budge, apparently because the tip had been grabbed by another of the humans standing on the other side of the opening. Arrn went down on his back, the wind knocked out of him momentarily. When he opened his eyes, it was just in time to see two sword points descending upon him.
The trio slowly moved down the earthen tunnel. It was unclear who was the worst off between them, but it seemed certain that if any one of them were to stop supporting his or her compatriots, all three would collapse.
They were moving slowly. Foremost because of their wounds, but also Elrohir and Nesco were making some (mostly perfunctory) efforts to hide their blood trail. Unless they came to a place where there were actually multiple paths to follow however, they knew this would be a useless effort.
The aftermath of the battle had at least some bright moments. From searching Chief Arrn's room, they had discovered some treasure in the form of gems and coins, and then (more importantly) they had discovered, down the tunnel, the quarters of the witch doctor who thankfully had not yet returned. There, they had found seven small vials of liquid; three milky white, three gray, and one black. Desperate, Nesco had quaffed the contents of one of the milky white vials and had been relieved to discover that it was indeed a healing potion of some kind, although its effects could best be described as "light." Elrohir and Aslan had drunk the other two potions, so at least no one was in immediate danger of death.
At least until they ran into anyone else.
Continuing down the corridor, the three came across a small archway in the right wall covered by a hanging skin. Elrohir frowned as he examined it. It was a poor job of curing the hide, typical of orcs, but what animal it had come from eluded the ranger. It was a tawny color, with short fur that felt like it might be waterproof. Whatever animal it came from had four rather short legs, a wedge-shaped head and a stumpy tail, but was at least seven feet in length, judging by this specimen. He had recalled seeing a similar skin in Chief Arrn's chambers, but that one had only been half this one's size.
Nesco, not apparently sharing her fellow ranger's interest in the fur, lifted it up and looked beyond.
It was a storage closet of some kind. Barely six feet square, a shelf ran along the three walls at about waist height. Various items lay on the shelves in jumbled piles. Pieces of clothing mostly, but there were also some armor pieces, wooden tools, bowls and utensils, baskets, and so forth. Other bric-a-brac lay on the floor underneath the shelf and a few spears, swords and flails were leaning up against the shelf.
Aslan abruptly moved into the small space and motioned for the others to follow him. Somewhat confused, they did, cramming together cheek-to-jowl to do so.
"Cozy," Nesco said with an embarrassed smile.
"And you thought there'd be no fringe benefits to working with us," Aslan replied with a thin smile as he bent down and began moving the material from underneath the shelf to the space around their feet. "Do as I do."
They did, and suddenly it dawned on Nesco what the paladin had in mind. "We're not going to camp here, are we?" she asked, making a concentrated effort to keep her voice down.
Aslan was already clumsily easing his body into the space beneath the shelf on the right-hand side. With no small misgivings, or discomfort, the other two managed the same. The space available was so small, and their plate mail so bulky, that they were barely able to fit, lying on their right sides. Elrohir thought they all looked like silver fish, arranged for sale in a merchant's cart. He looked on with interest as Aslan, grunting from the exertion, pulled out from his belt pouch the three vials of gray liquid, and handed one each to him and Nesco.
Elrohir took the offered vial, but his attention was fixed on the fur that was all that stood between them and discovery. "If someone checks this place out, Aslan, you know they're going to see us."
His friend eyed him somberly as he uncorked his vial. "Very probably, Elrohir," he replied, looking at the tiny flask, "unless this is what I'm hoping it is." With that, he drank the liquid in one gulp.
The two rangers started. "Aslan! Don't drink-"
The paladin vanished.
"Aslan!" Elrohir called out, then flinched as he realized how loud his voice had been.
"Drink your potions- now!" came Aslan's voice from his former position.
Nesco and Elrohir quaffed their vials and disappeared from sight just as heavy footsteps came down the corridor and the hide covering was thrown back.
From their angle, the trio stared up at the witch doctor. Behind him, impossibly tall, stood Glarg the ogre.
The orc's one eye roamed around the closet. Glarg, clutching a spear, leaned in over his shoulder.
"They not here, Rezshk."
The witch doctor sighed and turned his eye upwards to scowl at the ogre. "You need two eyes to see that, Glarg? You more stupid than even I think."
Rezshk turned back to survey the storage niche as Glarg glowered at the witch doctor's back. The orc squatted down, peering into the empty space. "I know I heard something," he whispered.
All three humans held their breath.
From his position, Elrohir could see one of the spears suddenly shift its position, near where the witch doctor's probing hand was. It knocked into the others, sending all of the weapons crashing to the floor. Rezshk jumped up but collided with Glarg as he tried to move back.
The ogre smiled and pointed down at the mess on the floor. "Stuff fall off shelves. That make noise." He looked smug. "Even Glarg know that."
Rezshk looked as if he were seriously considering putting a hex on the ogre. "Due to your big feet, no doubt!" he snarled at him, and continued on down the tunnel, elbowing Glarg in the lower stomach as he passed. "Clean that up," came his retreating voice.
Grumbling in his own tongue, Glarg got down on one knee and began picking up the weapons with his left hand. His first try at propping them up resulted in them all falling down again, so he just cursed again, grabbed everything on the floor and stuffed it on top of the shelves.
Elrohir thought he was going to burst from holding his breath.
Glarg took one last look around, then suddenly stopped. The three humans saw his nose sniffing.
Oh, no, thought Aslan. He smells us!
Slowly, the ogre picked up a torn brown vest from the shelf. He held it up to his nose, then tossed it back with a look of disgust. He mumbled something (Nesco couldn't understand it but had a sneaking suspicion it was something along the lines of "humans stink") and then left, the hide flapping back into place behind him.
After several seconds, there were three loud exhalations of breath, and then silence.
"Tell me something Aslan," Elrohir said quietly. "How did you know those were potions of invisibility?"
"I didn't." Aslan's voice sounded eerie, coming from no visible source. "But aside from healing potions, it'd be the most likely one to have multiple doses on hand for," he explained. "Cygnus told me that once, several years ago."
"I don't wish to seem rude," the paladin continued, "but I need to sleep, or at least mindrest. One extra minute might make all the difference. Right now, I've got nothing."
"Get some rest, Aslan," Nesco said. "Elrohir and I will work out the watch."
"Thank you," mumbled Aslan, already starting to enter a state which would have been relaxation if he had not been in agony, an uncomfortable position, and fully armored. "I'm sorry for being so weak..." his voice trailed off.
The two rangers waited. Soon they could hear labored breathing, and even some light snoring. Elrohir smiled invisibly to himself and wondered if Nesco was doing the same.
"How can he say that?" wondered Nesco out loud.
"What do you mean?" asked Elrohir.
"What Aslan said. 'Sorry for being so weak'. He saved our lives back there. He's one of the noblest, strongest people I've ever met."
Elrohir wasn't sure how exactly to explain this.
"I agree completely Nesco, but Aslan can't take- or at least he says he can't take, physical pain."
Nesco hesitated. "What?"
"It's because of his Talent. Even before he heard his calling, Aslan could heal himself, so he always did. He never had to go through a long convalescence or deal with the aftermath of a serious injury. He could always just cure his wounds with his mind."
He couldn't see it, but Elrohir was certain Nesco was shaking her head in disbelief. "I don't know, Elrohir. He seems to bear pain as well as any fighter I've ever met."
The ranger nodded reflexively, even though Nesco couldn't see it. "I agree with you, Nesco. Aslan is an example of the best we can be. I try to follow his lead. And if he sometimes has self-doubts, well," and here Elrohir's voice dropped so low, Lady Cynewine could barely hear it. "I can relate to that."
There was some more silence.
"Elrohir?" came Nesco's voice, softly.
"Yes, Nesco?"
His fellow ranger's voice had an odd, almost childish lilt to it.
"Will you tell me the story of when you and Aslan travelled to Hell?"
Elrohir smiled to himself. "Not now, Nesco. We should stop talking, really. We don't want to be overheard. Get some rest. I'll take first watch."
Nesco's disappointment was a palpable thing, but she knew not to press the point. She knew Elrohir was right.
"I don't think I can sleep, Elrohir. I'll take first watch."
Elrohir grimaced as he tried to shift his position and received a fresh stab of pain for his trouble. "I don't think I can sleep either, Nesco. What say we share the watch?"
There was a heavy sigh and Nesco's voice drifted back lazily to him. "All right. I'll just think about how wonderful this will be when it's all over."
"Sounds good," Elrohir said quietly. Despite his best efforts, his thoughts began to drift. His wife. His son. All his good friends, including the two with him, and those hundreds of miles away.
He hoped they would be all right.