Chapter 23 – Master of the mines – Day 54
"Ok so we will follow your lead Yeslick. Where should we begin?"
"Jeral, before we depart this level we must free the slaves from their cells. Then we will lead them to the kitchens and the armory. Once suitably prepared we will head to the first level and free any remaining slaves there. Your party will accompany me down to the third level while the slaves will flee to the woods."
"And what of our captive?" Ajantis asked Yeslick. Rill interjected before Yeslick could reply.
"Bring him with us, Bartic may yet redeem himself."
"Very well, let us be off." Jeral quickly picked up the quivers of enchanted arrows on the table. Smiling he handed one to Imoen. "These quivers have some lightly enchanted arrows and then some ice arrows. The latter are quite nasty, so careful handling them."
"You mean the once that are crackling and cold to the touch? I think I can manage."
Jeral bit back a sarcastic response and looked at the two potions on the table; he unstoppered each of them and sniffed them warily.
"This one is a potion of haste, I think. This one is probably a fireball in a flask. That is a very nasty potion and also very dangerous to carry around." Jeral carefully placed the potions in a sack on his back and turned to follow Yeslick. Imoen hastily grabbed the heavy coin purse on the table and followed the others out of the room.
Rill and Yeslick led the way, followed closely by Minsc and Ajantis. The prisoner walked in between them, his hands tightly bound behind his back. Imoen and Dynaheir followed and Jeral brought up the rear. They first stopped at the cells that housed the slaves. Imoen had the door opened in seconds. The slaves poured out of the cells praising Yeslick and Rill for their rescue. Rill looked through the mass of people until smiling he dropped to one knee. Jeral watched as a small girl with a mass of dark curls sprinted into his arms. Smiling he kissed her wetly on both cheeks and stood up. Choking back a team Rill turned to face his rescuers.
"This is my Lara. She has seen six summers and it is for her that I have fought to stay alive; for I shall see her free of this accursed place."
The greatly enlarged group moved slowly through the level. Fearing a counter attack from the guards below Yeslick quickly led the group to the armory. Once there the slaves worked to arm themselves with whatever they could find. Soon a couple dozen men and women were clad in leather armor and holding spears or swords. Rill found himself clothes, boots, a set of splint mail and a large battle axe. Smiling he picked up his daughter and held her in his left arm while the battle axe lay against his right shoulder. Jeral had to choke back a laugh as he saw Yeslick emerge from the armory. The malnourished dwarf had found a pair of pants and had them pulled up to the middle of his chest and tied off with the same twine from his prison rage. Unable to find any suitable armor he had grabbed a large shield, an open faced helm and a large wooden cudgel. Seeing the look on Jeral's face Yeslick was forced to shake his head and chuckle.
"Keep it to yourself laddie. This was the best I can do for now. What I wouldn't give for a proper hammer and set of dwarven chain mail."
"I thought dwarves preferred heavier armor master dwarf?" Dynaheir clearly overheard the dwarf's comment to Jeral.
"Aye my lady, normally we do. But I have seen over one hundred and thirty summers, and I am weak from my time as a prisoner. Chain mail is plenty for me now, easier on the shoulders and back. Besides, I can always duck behind these two long limbs in plate if I need to."
Imoen laughed out loud at the comment and jumped as Minsc boomed out a reply.
Minsc would be proud to protect the good dwarf from evil." Yeslick smiled at Minsc and led the way towards the kitchens. Once there they were accosted by the cook, a large sweaty woman covered in flour. Jeral handed her a handful of coins and directed her to the surface. The woman departed wailing that she was never going to fund such a good job again. Once the cook was gone Rill organized everyone. Wheels of cheese, loaves of bread, sides of beef, casks of water and ale, all were taken and carried by the group; for they would need to gain strength for the march out of the woods back to civilization. By the time the group left the kitchen it was picked clean.
Rill and Yeslick led the raggedy band to the upper level and then out of the mine, over the river and into the woods. Rill led everyone to a clearing a couple hundred yards into the woods and directed them to set up camp. "We can direct all the workers here when we see them. They will wait here for until mid day tomorrow before departing."
Jeral quickly ran back to where they had stashed their field gear and rummaged through his pack. Jogging back to the group he formally presented Yeslick with the enchanted war hammer the group had claimed of the mad cleric Bassilus in the woods southwest of Beregost.
"Master dwarf, I hope this hammer will be worthy of a member of the Silverhammer clan."
Yeslick dropped his cudgel and accepted the hammer with trembling hands.
"Lad, this is dwarven work. I will wield this proudly and thank you for the use of the weapon."
"Consider it a gift."
"I cannae take such a gift."
"Yes you can. None of us can wield it and it would be a shame to sell it. Just see that it is put to good use and that will be payment enough." Rill walked up next to Yeslick and patted the dwarf on the shoulder.
"Good Yeslick, now that we are free, let us return to the mines and free the worked that remain on the first level. Once Pilar shows you how to flood the mines I will lead him and the miners to their families and await your return."
Rill hefted his battleaxe and led the way back into the mines. As they reentered the complex they did not see a single patrol or sign of the enemy. The miners stared at the party cautiously until they saw Rill. Once they saw their leader armed and armored their heart filled with home and they ran to him and embraced him warmly. Men came from all corners of the mine, their tired bodies energized by the prospect of freedom. Rill motioned for quiet and then addressed the growing throng of miners.
"My brothers, thanks to Yeslick, Jeral and their brave companions you are finally free. The guards on this level are dead or have run for the lives. Your wives and children are in the woods waiting for you. Just give me five minutes to talk with Pilar and I will take you to them."
Pilar quickly showed Yeslick and Jeral the large metal plug that was used to seal the rover off from the mine. "Put the key in there, turn those two knobs, and run like mad for the river will come rushing in. Any questions?" Seeing there were not any questions Pilar patted Rill on the shoulder and slowly made his way to the entrance of the mines.
"Yeslick, Jeral, this is as far as I go. I must lead the miners to their families. We will post guards and await your return. I wish you the luck of the Gods for you will likely need it."
"Rill, if we do not return head due east. Walk to the rising sun for seven days more or less and you will reach the Great Coastal Way. Once there get directions to the Friendly Arm Inn, it is a well known establishment and any can direct you there. The proprietor is a good man and he will take care of you and help you and your people find new homes."
"And this will help you all get settled." Imoen tossed Rill the heavy coin purse she had pulled off the mage on the second level of the mines.
"There is enough in there to get everyone where they need to go with something left over for a fresh start." Rill seemed to be fighting back tears. He hugged each party member in turn, then Yeslick last of all, before turning and wordlessly heading for the mine entrance.
Yeslick cleared his throat and headed off down the corridor. He followed hallways making turn seemingly at random before he led the party to a small guard room at the end of a hallway. The room was comfortable and had a stone fireplace that took up most of one wall. Yeslick propped himself down in one of the wooden chairs and motioned the others to sit down. "Might as well get comfortable, we will be here for a while."
"Why is that?"
"The way we take will lead us right into Davaeorn's private chambers. The master of the mine is a dangerous foe. It we wait until late into the evening he may be asleep or at least without his guards. So we wait until then. Besides I am sure your mage could use a rest to restore some of her spells. So sit, eat, drink, and make a fire. We have many hours before us."
Yeslick took a long pull off a water skin and attacked a large turkey leg, tearing off hunks of meat with his yellowed cracked teeth.
"Yeslick, may I ask what happened to your people? How did you come to be imprisoned here?" Yeslick tore the last meat off his turkey leg and tossed the bone into the newly started fire. He chewed slowly and deliberately before responding.
"The Silverhammer clan was not a large clan by dwarven standards. They were not particularly warlike nor were they exceptionally skilled metal workers or miners. The one thing that united the clan was a thirst to explore. In this way we were more human than dwarf for most of the clans are content to stay in their caverns deep in the mountains, away from the eyes of the world. About 150 years ago my clan came down from the mountains in a great caravan. Twenty score dwarves and the same number of animals and wagons descended the mountains and entered the Cloakwood. The chieftain was the mighty Gurmea Ironfist.
Legend says he killed an ogre with his bare hands when he was but a child in his twenties. He earned his name in combat and lived up to it dozens of times over the years. He was a fierce warrior and a stern but just leader. His wife Mutria had visions and claimed she was guided here by the Gods. When the clan arrived after traveling for half a year they camped for the night on this very ground, thinking that sleeping on a small island made for an easily defensible position. The next morning they discovered apple size pieces of silver lying about as if they had sprouted from the very ground itself."
"Taking that as a sign from Moradin, Gurmea changed the clan's name to Silverhammer and established these caverns as both home and mine for the clan. Within ten years they had dug all you see here and merchant caravans laden with silver traveled from here to Baldur's Gate to the North and the city of coin to the South. The clan grew rich and powerful. Gurmea and his wife, corrupted by the wealth and power soon turned away from the true path. Not content with earthly riches the couple started to dabble in the dark arts looking for ways to extend their lives. As if two hundred years is not enough for a self respecting dwarf!"
Yeslick took a deep breath and lowered his voice again as he continued, "They commanded that the clan excavate a fourth level to the mine, a level that was off limits to all but the two of them. They purchased tomes of the foulest dark arts and components for many an unholy ritual. Many in the clan were concerned but no one dared challenge Gurmea for leadership. For many it was easy to ignore their descent into darkness. There was wealth for all; even our most lay about dwarves had more wealth than one of your human lords. So while the chieftain and his wife turned to darkness everyone else just counted their wealth. Any concerns forced away by the gleam of silver and the riches it bought."
"This went on for years; the Chieftain became more and more reclusive as strange sounds and smells emanated from the lowest level of the mines. Finally he went too far. Gurmea and his wife seized a few of the children for a dark ritual. They hoped to open a gate to allow a demon in; a demon who promised them wealth and power. Two score of our strongest warriors went to challenge Gurmea and put a stop to his dark reign. They were slaughtered, almost to the last. My father was one of two that managed to escape with their lives. Bleeding from dozens of wounds he found me and my mother. He handed us a pack filled with silver and told us to flee for our lives. He said he would rally the clan and that he would meet us in the woods."
Yeslick chocked back a sob as he loudly blew his nose on the sleeve of the tunic he had taken from the corpse of a guard in the hallway.
"Right, where was I? So I was just a lad who had seen maybe six summers at the time. Although I will add that I carried a blade larger than yours at that age good Jeral."
Chuckling at his own joke Yeslick continued with his dark tale.
"So me and ma sat in the woods and we watched and we listened. We could hear screaming and the sounds of battle. Men, women, young ones, they all scream differently. We could easily tell every time a child died, or a woman, or a man. Somehow knowing every time a child died made the listening even worse. Something or someone was tearing through the clan and killing everyone. Whatever it was did not stop at the dwarves. Animals died that day as well and their painful bleating just added to the din.
After a time the very air started to darken and cool even through it was a warm spring day. Suddenly there was a roar louder than any other, the river foamed and roared as it flooded into the mine. Somehow a wall collapsed in the mine and flooded it all. The entire clan perished save me and my mother."
"How did the mine flood? Dwarves are renowned throughout the land for their works of stone and their prowess as miners, so an accidental flooding seems unlikely."
"Right you are, my lady mage. I think my father and a few others deliberately tunneled into the river to flood the mines in a last ditch effort to stop whatever evil Gurmea and Mutria had summoned. That or Moradin himself ended the evil that day."
"So there we were the only two surviving members of the clan Silverhammer. My mother was too ashamed to return to the mountains so we made our way north to Baldur's Gate. There we lived quietly for many years. I found a temple and made a connection to the great smith and we lived quietly. My mother finally passed away about ten years ago.
I am ashamed to say that I was lost without her and did not handle it well. I lost sight of my faith and I squandered what little monies remained. Eventually desperate and destitute I became an itinerant blacksmith. I found my way to one Reiltar Anchev. He was a middling merchant at the time but had great ambition and avarice in his blood."
"To this day I am not sure why told him my tale. One night, after too much ale I opened up to him and told him the story of my clan and my misfortune. He offered to help return the mine to its splendor and return the name of my clan to greatness."
"And the snake double crossed you."
"Aye young Imoen. He did indeed. After draining the mine he looted it of my clan's riches and placed me in chains."
"Well that explains how the Iron Throne merchant consortium was able to come to prominence so quickly. The Order could never discover the source of their wealth or the force behind their sudden prominence."
Yeslick nodded grimly at the Helmite. "Indeed. They looted my ancestral home and placed me in chains some five years ago and I have dreamed of my vengeance ever since."
Yeslick stood up, stretched and then lay down in the corner.
"Wake me a few hours before dawn and then we may begin."
Day 55
After waking from a short rest Yeslick spent some time praying to Moradin and preparing for the upcoming challenge.
"Right, is everyone ready?" Yeslick stood and started running his hands over the smooth stone on the wall.
"What are you doing?"
"Well lass, before my father died he told me of the secret exit he helped build into Gurmea's sanctum. There is a door hidden in this wall that will take us to a lift device that will allow us to descend to the lowest level of the mines."
"Ooooh a secret door. How fun, let me help." Imoen quickly walked over to the wall and started staring at it and running her hands over the smooth surface looking for a catch or a knob or anything that would open the portal in question.
"No disrespect lass but this is dwarven construction. This is designed to be invisible to dwarves, so it will be impossible to find by a human." Imoen tossed her hair in frustration and continued to search while the others watched the two of them search every inch of the wall. After a quarter hour of searching Yeslick started swearing and banging his fists against the wall.
"It has to be here. This is exactly where my dad said to look."
"Yeslick, if I may ask. What exactly did your father say about the door?"
The dwarf glared at Jeral in frustration but calmed before he replied. "I remember it like it was only yesterday. He said it was in the westernmost guard post in the fireplace room."
"That makes no sense. I assume that this is the only possible westernmost guard room on this level?"
"Absolutely, of that there is no doubt."
"Ok, so if this room is the obvious location then why would your father also state the fireplace room? That seems unnecessarily repetitive to me."
Yeslick snapped his fingers and grinned from ear to ear.
"That's it me boy! You must have some dwarven blood in you. Of course, the door is in the fireplace."
Minsc and Ajantis hastily doused the fire with their water skins. Yeslick leapt into the fireplace kicking embers away with his boots. He pressed his hands against the soot covered walls and quickly found a slight indentation. He took the handle of his war hammer and gently depressed the spot on the wall. With a barely audible click a small section of wall cracked open.
Yeslick stooped his shoulders and entered the small passageway. The others had to stoop forward and Minsc was almost on his hands and knees. After 50 paces the small passageway ended in a ten by ten square room. The room was covered in cobweb but torches still burned in the wall sconces.
"Such powerful magic to still work after all this time." Dynaheir whispered reverently as she scanned the room.
"Not a lot of dwarven mages, but the ones we have are very powerful." Yeslick reached up to the nearest torch and twisted the sconce to the left. After a slight pause the floor started to slowly, silently descend. The group watched as the torches appeared to rise up out of sight as they descended deeper and deeper down a vertical shaft.
Yeslick dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned in close. "We will be in Davaeorn's sanctum in minutes. While I hope to catch him unawares we must make ready for anything that awaits."
Yeslick started muttering and a warm bluish glow surrounded the group. Jeral felt more confident and braver from whatever the dwarf had done. Dynaheir cast her spell of haste and the tingling Jeral was learning to depend upon returned once again.
"Almost there." Yeslick twisted the war hammer in his hand and shifted from foot to foot, clearly impatient to face his captor. As the small chamber neared the floor a small bell rang from below.
"So much for surprise." Jeral notched an ice arrow and readied for whatever was below. Minsc placed Boo in the small pouch on his belt and held Spider's Bane at the ready. Dynaheir waved her fingers and suddenly there were four dark skinned mages where only one stood before.
That mirror image is one useful spell. Yet another I need to learn.
Jeral shook off the negative thoughts and focused on the fight that was sure to come as his hand clenched and unclenched on the grip of his bow.
The long shaft finally was at an end as the first sliver of light was visible at the floor as they slowly dropped into a new chamber. They were descending into a room, and they were not alone.
The sounds of many swords leaving their scabbards chilled Jeral's spine.
Jeral let the bow and arrow fall from his grasp and he struggled to open the sack on his back. Reaching in he found what he wanted. With no time to identify the correct potion he knelt down and hurled both flasks through the widening gap in the wall towards the sounds of weapons. The sound of breaking glass was immediately followed by the explosion of a large fireball. Fingers of flame reached into the room through the slowly expanding gap in the floor and everyone jumped back from the flame.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Imoen's cry of pain made the hair on Jeral's next stand up.
"You just ruined my boots you pile of goblin dung!"
Leave it to Imoen to focus on fashion in a life and death situation.
Relieved that Imoen was uninjured Jeral quickly reclaimed his bow and notched a new arrow. As the lift settled to the ground a scene of total chaos lay before them.
The lift had placed them in the corner of an ornate bedroom. A large four poster bed commanded the center of the room like a throne. The bed was now a mass of burning wood and fabric for Jeral's potion had clearly impacted in the center of the bed. A handful of plate clad guards lay on the ground writhing in pain. Six more plate clad soldiers stood in a line on the far side of the room holding their long swords and shields at the ready. Behind them stood a pair of men who were obviously mages. One was no older than Jeral with the faintest wisps of a moustache and dark green mage robes. The other was old, short, overweight and balding; but the power that radiated out from him was palpable and terrifying. The party stood transfixed and watched six copies of the mage pop into being, each protected by a cylinder of crackling blue energy.
The mage smiled, revealing a weak chin and a set of perfectly white teeth.
"Ahhhh Yeslick, you are looking well. And I see you have met Jeral. How convenient, business and pleasure both stand before me. Guards, the dwarf and the women live for they will give me much amusement. Kill the rest."
Everything seemed to happen at once. Using their magically enhanced speed Minsc and Ajantis leapt forward and hammered into the wall of plate clad guards. These guards were clearly handpicked and well trained. Their ranks held as they absorbed the charge of the two fighters and quickly had the pair on the defensive as they struggled to handle their more numerous opponents.
Dynaheir cast a magic missile spell at Davaeorn but cried out in frustration as the missiles hit the blue energy and dissipated into nothingness. Yeslick bellowed in rage and charged straight for Davaeorn. The crazed dwarf weaved between the eight plate clad warriors and lunged at the wizard. In a blink Davaeorn was gone and Yeslick lay sprawled on the ground, unable to maintain his balance as his target moved out of the way.
The young wizard pulled out a wand from the sleeve of his robe and pointed it at Yeslick. Before he could utter a command word a pair of arrows struck home. The first arrow buried in his stomach while the second struck him over his heart. Before he could fall both arrows encased large portions of his torso in ice. As the lifeless body hit the ground his chest shattered into dozens of pieces of multi colored ice.
"Imoen, stay with Dynaheir." Jeral watched as Yeslick took off down the hall calling out Davaeorn's name. Jeral started to take off after the dwarf when out of the corner of his eye he saw Ajantis take a hard blow. One of the guards had managed to get inside the Helmite's parry and strike a blow to his sword arm. While his blade could not pierce the Ankheg plate the force of the blow caused Ajantis to drop his sword. Now weaponless the paladin assumed a defensive crouch behind his shield as a pair of guards hacked away at him.
Jeral drew a bead on the closest guard and loosed an ice arrow. It struck home at the base of his neck, striking the gap between his back plate and helm. The arrow severed his spine and he dropped to the floor, his head snapping off his frozen neck and rolling across the room leaving a trail of blood in its wake.
The second guard turned to face the new threat. Seeing his chance Ajantis drew his dagger and forced it through the shoulder joint on the guard's armor. As he pulled out the blade a steady stream of blood pulsed forth. The guard attempted to turn but fell to the ground before he could face Ajantis again. Ajantis nodded his thanks to Jeral and quickly reclaimed his long sword. With only three guards left to oppose them Jeral knew Minsc and Ajantis no longer needed his assistance so he raced off after Yeslick.
Yeslick was not hard to find, Jeral only had to follow the steady stream of dwarven profanity that echoed down the halls. He rounded a corner and saw the mage standing atop a raised platform in a small room. The room looked to be a makeshift temple devoted to demon worship. The enraged dwarf was halfway up the dais and was attacking the mage with a looping horizontal swing of his war hammer. Davaeorn quickly raised his hands and a jet of silver lashed into Yeslick. The dwarf roared in frustration and then froze in place as the spell took effect. Jeral took a quick snap shot at the mage. The arrow bored a hole in the blue cylinder surrounding the mage but the energy shield deflected the shot and it went wide of the mark.
"So very close Jeral. Too bad you missed for it is unlikely you will get another chance." Davaeorn snapped his fingers and six copies of the mage reappeared.
"Such a handy little spell that mirror image, don't you think?" Jeral fired off another ice arrow and one of the images disappeared.
"How pathetic, you still think you can win. You lack the good grace to know when you are beaten." Davaeorn muttered under his breath and jets of flame shot out from his extended fingers. Jeral threw himself into a forward roll to duck under the flames. He misjudged the distance and slammed into the wall as he came out of his roll. The force of the blow staggered him and he landed heavily on his backside.
Davaeorn started to laugh but quickly stopped as three more of his duplicates were blasted out of existance from a pair of magic missiles and an arrow of ice. Jeral looked over his shoulder to see Minsc and Ajantis charging down the hall with Dynaheir and Imoen close behind. Davaeorn uttered a curse and then quickly chanted an incantation. When he finished the spell a dozen halberd wielding gnolls materialized in front of him and changed towards Ajantis and Minsc.
"There, that should give me more than enough time to dispose of you. Let us see which one of us is the better archer Jeral. Of course I do not need anything as pedestrian as a bow."
Davaeorn clapped his hands together and a flaming bolt of energy shot out and struck Jeral in the left shoulder. Jeral cried out in pain and dropped his long bow. Drawing his short sword he unsteadily got to his feet. Gritting his teeth against the pain he charged the mage.
"Such spirit, such persistence. Too bad they demand your death. Imprisoning you and watching you break would be delicious. Such a shame. Good bye Jeral."
Davaeorn started casting a complex spell, Jeral did not recognize the words but he knew that if Davaeorn cast the spell then he would die. Jeral lashed out with his short sword and another duplicate of the mage winked out of existence. Jeral watched as a ball of intense darkness started to build in Davaeorn's hands as he gathered energy for his incantation. Davaeorn started to move his hands forward to release the spell's power when his entire body was thrown violently to the side. Yeslick had managed to free himself and complete his attack on the mage. The enchanted hammer easily defeated the magical protections surrounding Davaeorn and struck him solidly in the left side.
The ball of energy faded away as Davaeorn fell onto his right side and slid down the steps, landing in a heap on the floor. Stunned and injured he struggled to regain his feet. Yeslick bounded after him and Jeral watched transfixed as the hammer came down again and again on the master of the mines until there was nothing more than a puddle of blood and brains on the floor where a head was seconds before. The dwarf dropped the bloody weapon and fell to the floor, overcome with emotion. Jeral turned to see if the others needed assistance and watched as Minsc gleefully decapitated the one remaining gnoll with a massive swing of his great blade. He and Ajantis were covered in blood but neither looked seriously injured. A quick glimpse at Dynaheir and Imoen showed that they both appeared uninjured.
Jeral dropped his sword to the ground and fumbled through his gear searching for a healing potion. Locating one he quickly unstoppered it and drained the contents in one long gulp. A sense of calm overcame him as the potion started to knit his injured shoulder back together. After a few minutes the shoulder was functional again. It would need time, or another potion, to fully heal but Jeral knew he was out of danger.
Jeral walked over and looked down at the bloody corpse that was Davaeorn. Leaving Yeslick to his grief Jeral methodically searched the body. He took the mage robes, bracers, and a handful of scrolls and tossed them in his pack for later identification. He also found a large iron key that clearly was the key to the river plug.
"Imoen, please take a quick circuit through here and see if there is anything of value we can take with us. We need to get out of here before the guards from upstairs come down to take a look." Imoen grabbed Ajantis by the hand and headed off in search of treasure.
Jeral patted Yeslick on the shoulder. "We found the key. We should flood this place and be on our way."
"I am staying here."
"What are you talking about Yeslick?"
"You cannot understand, you are not a dwarf. This is my home. I am the last of my clan. I have no one. If I die here at least I will be closer to my family in the afterlife."
"Yeslick, it is true that I am not a dwarf but I do understand loss. I have lost my father, I have lost my home, and I have lost a woman I think I love. Yet you will not see me blubbering like a love sick elf at the summer solstice."
The last comment caused Yeslick to jump to his feet and heft his war hammer. "Take it back ye foolish child afore I break your legs!"
"Take what back? Listen to yourself. You are the last of the clan Silverhammer. You must avenge your clan. You must avenge your parents. Your vengeance is not complete until Reiltar is dead and the Iron Throne is destroyed. Then, and only then, will I consider your oath fulfilled. Until that time you do not have my permission to die!"
Yeslick grinned and slapped Jeral on the shoulder affectionately.
"Fine speech, exactly what I needed. There be dwarven blood in you, no doubt about that. Aye, let us go and flush the evil out of this place."
The journey back to the upper level went quickly. On the way back up Jeral watched as Imoen sorted through the trinkets she had collected. By his quick count it looked like close to a dozen potions, some very fine jewelry and a few thousand gold and platinum coins. The floor finally stopped rising and the party found themselves back in the room with the enchanted torches where they started. A short walk brought them back to the large slab of metal that sealed off the mine from the river. Yeslick ran his hands over the rough metal and snorted. "What shoddy construction, I am amazed this has not already failed under the pressure from the river. Very well Jeral, do you have the key?"
"I do. However I suggest we all head to the mine entrance and then I can go back in and use the key to flood the mines. No need to place everyone at risk."
"Sounds like a good plan save one thing laddie. This be my family home, if anyone is going to flood it, I will."
"Can you swim? Are you a fast runner? When the river comes in there will be no second chances. One slip, one false step, and you drown and the last of the clan Silverhammer fades into memory."
"Dwarves hate water and cannot swim at all. You look like a bookish sort Jeral so you already know that. And you surely can run faster than me. But that is beside the point. This was my home. It was defiled due to my trusting the wrong man. I will make it right."
The dwarf crossed his arms across his chest and glared up at Jeral. It was clear that Yeslick was unyielding on the issue. Fortunately before the discussion elevated to the level of an argument Ajantis stepped to the fore.
"I believe that I can find a satisfactory resolution to this impasse. If everyone would exit the mine we can discuss it outside."
Yeslick looked warily at the paladin. "If this be a trick you will have made an enemy of this dwarf, so think carefully Helmite."
"On my honor as a servant of Helm and a squire in the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart I swear I speak truth."
"Very well. Lead and I will follow squire." The paladin led the group back to the mine entrance. Once outside he sat down in the grass and started taking off his boots.
"You are right Yeslick it is only proper that you are the one to flood the mines. However, Jeral is also right. You are too slow and too poor a swimmer to survive what will happen after you open the river plug." Ajantis tossed his boots at the feet of the last surviving member of clan Silverhammer and smiled.
"These boots are something special. They make the wearer faster than the fleetest steed. If you wear them you may well survive." Yeslick dropped his axe, helm and shield to the ground and quickly slid his feet into the boots. The boots shrunk to accommodate his smaller feet and he quickly sprinted to the tree line and back.
"By my beard, but these make one very fast. Ajantis, I thank you for lending me these boots. I will return them shortly. Jeral the key if you please."
Jeral handed over the key into the dwarf's outstretched palm and the group watched as Yeslick slowly, almost reverently, entered the mine for one final time. After a quarter of an hour a dull roar started to echo from the mine. It quickly got louder and louder until the companions had to cover their ears from the sound of the roaring waters racing through the mine. The sound of footsteps splashing through water indicated that Yeslick was fast approaching. Soaking wet, he barreled around the corner and raced out of the mine and into the early morning sun. Once he reached the grass he dropped to his knees, lowered his head and sobbed uncontrollably.
Imoen finally broke the silence. Elbowing her brother she pointed to the woods. "We have a long trek ahead of us. Let's get Rill and all of the former slaves organized and ready to move. Once we get to the Friendly Arm Inn we can figure out our next steps."
Jeral snorted in reply as he adjusted the grip on his long bow.
"The next steps are clear. We rest, we train, and we restock. Then we go to Baldur's Gate, find the leader of the Iron Throne and kill him. Him and anyone who gets in our way. Couldn't be easier. The Iron Throne killed Gorion and tried to kill us. Yeslick is not the only one out for blood."