CHAPTER IX
Silence and static. In a new location, the friends looked at one another with funny quips, no declarations. It was too soon. Barely three weeks. Still trying to figure out what to do about Max. Max, who, the last Nancy had checked, was two, possibly three more weeks from the cast removal of both her arms. Physically she was healing, but mentally was anyone's guess now. Now, they had to deal with Hawkins National Laboratory opening to the public again.
"What the fuck are we going to do," Steve repeated Dustin's question. "What do you expect us to do? This could literally mean anything." He looked back at the paper in hand. "What the hell is ERAOI, anyway?"
"Electric Reliability Assembly of Indiana," answered Dustin.
Steve frowned at the teenager he considered the little brother he never wanted. "I know. I can read." He tossed the paper on the coffee table of his family's den. "I've never heard of this Reliability Assembly." Steve looks Dustin dead in the eyes as he's about to correct him. "I will smack you. I don't care who sees."
Dustin retreated to the back of the cushion of his chair.
Robin and Nancy sit on the loveseat across from the sofa occupied by Steve, Mike, and Jonathan. Will sat on the arm opposite Eleven, who sat on a component of the loveseat. Argyle rested his tall frame against the large hutch chest.
"Well, it's clearly something to do with the government," attributed Jonathan, concern dripping from his voice. "After what happened in Nevada. They must be coming for you, El. It wouldn't surprise me, anyway."
"Sure, it has to do with El, no question there, but why now," asked Will.
Nancy rubbed her forehead with her finger, her elbow resting on the arm of the sofa behind where Eleven sat. "It's the government. Everything takes about twice as long, plus a day to get anything done. None of this is a coincidence. They must have been planning to open the lab for a while, specifically after Starcort," Nancy sighed. "I'll bet they've been planning something, just bumped it up once they realized the Russians got involved."
There were equal nods of agreement.
"We need Lucas and Erica here. The whole party is needed for this." Dustin began clicking the talk button of his walkie-talkie. "Lucas, this is Dustin. Do you copy? We need you and Erica now."
...
There is an electric chirp. "Dustin, man, what do you want," Lucas' voice is in a rushed hush. "I don't know what's up with my parents, but you are not helping," his voice cut with a low static trail.
"Lucas, you and Erica, you need to get here now. This is important. We need you here now," states Dustin in his signature rush, its pitch shifting in urgency. Robin reached forward and placed a finger over the walkie-talkie's push-to-talk button.
"You give only-child behavior a bad name," she states. "What's Sinclaire's phone number?"
Dustin looked at Robin, dumbfounded. Mike and Will included.
"Seriously, you guys use those things so much. You don't even know each other's phone numbers." Robin raised an eyebrow. Boys.
"I think I have their house phone in my address book. Come on." Nancy grabbed Robin's forearm and pulled her toward the kitchen. Over to her purse, which sat on the countertop, covered in assorted boxes and bags of food. "It should be in here." Nancy pulled a small pocket-sized book from her purse and thumbed through the pages. She looked at Robin. "What? It was easier to do this than constantly relying on Mike. You've interacted with my brother." Nancy held the little book, her newly painted nails pointing at the number in question.
Robin laughed and began to dial the number. She tapped her foot and twirled her finger in the teal-colored cord. "Lots of rings," she mouths to Nancy.
Nancy shook her head and attempted to hide her smile.
"Yes, Mrs. Sinclaire, my name is Robin Buckley. I'm one of Nancy Wheeler's friends." Robin fell back against the counter. "Yes 'that' Nancy Wheeler. I just wanted to call and directly apologize to you and Mr. Sinclaire for Dustin's behavior. Oh, I know, over-excited only child who constantly forgets his manners." Robin began swirling the cord in the air. "Yes, ma'am, exactly. I hope his behavior isn't keeping Lucas and Erica from hanging out with the rest of us." She eyes Nancy with a smile. "Yes, ma'am, curfews are important. Now more than ever."
Nancy needed to sit down. She covered her mouth to hide the laugh.
"Absolutely, there's no need to worry, not one bit. I'll be here, Nancy will be here, oh, and Jonathan. Will's older brother, he's here too." Robin moved the receiver holding it to her ear with her shoulder. "Really? I'm sure Nancy wouldn't mind picking them up. We don't want anyone riding their bikes out this late. Yes, thank you so much, Mrs. Sinclaire." Robin gave a thumbs up. "Oh, my mom? Yes, Beatrix Buckley is my mother. Yes, she's the librarian at the middle school. I'll let her know you said hello. You have a nice rest of your afternoon and a wonderful evening."
There is a pause in the air.
They could hear Lucas's confused yet awestruck voice coming from the walkie-talkie. "Um… We can come over. Just can't stay so late this time?".
Robin and Nancy smirked.
The boys, including Steve, Jonathan, and Argyle, sat with mouths agape. Eleven only snorted to herself, taking over Nancy's spot on the loveseat.
Nancy's keys in hand and her bag over her shoulder. "I'll pick them up. Give me ten-fifteen minutes." She exited the front door before anyone could question or protest what had just happened.
-.-.-.-
Together again, our Adventurers surround one of the circular tower's two available doors. Both rogues stand at the door. The Half-Elf, with both hands, takes hold of the handle. One to pull the other to suppress any noise the loose iron might produce. The other Rogue slips through the door, her hand appearing from behind, motioning to the others. It's safe. But be cautious.
The Gnome slips between the rogues. With ease and without care, he surveys the area.
Like the room before it, the stone walls are in disrepair. The outermost wall to the south has collapsed, filling the room with rubble. A stone door with a giant rearing dragon carved in relief sits on the adjacent wall.
There is a rustling to his left. A Giant Rat meanders along the rubble, not noticing the Gnome.
The Gnome raises a finger to his lips. He holds a hand towards the monster. Pale green magic swirls from his palm. The rat's eyes glow a similar green. It continues to sniff and meander about the rubble without care. It's back to the large company that files from the other room. "Best to ignore it, my dudes. No need to go over there anyway." The Gnome motions to the stone door.
Standing clear of the rubble, The Sorcerer steps to the door, examining the carved dragon, hands hovering close to the stone. It radiates powerful magic the Sorcerer cannot attune to. Then he notices a hollow in the dragon's mouth. "A key. I think our best bet would be finding the key," says Will.
"Key my ass," states Erica. She looks at the Ranger. "Move." The Half-Elf Rogue shimmies her way through the group to the door. She begins to analyze every nook, every crevasse.
The Ranger jumps. "Hey," Lucas responds with a loud whisper.
The Half-Elf simply waves a dismissive hand in the direction of the Ranger. "Right here, right here, and it will open," spoke Erica in disappointment. Her thieves tools still need their mark. "Vix, you give it ago." The Half-Elf motions to her companion.
The other Rogue steps to the door, her tools out. The Half-Elf Rogue whispers which tools should work, then points to the hole in the Dragon's mouth. She shakes her head. Her tools can't reach the mechanism either. "No go," says Eleven. The Rogue pulls out her tools and points to the length between the grip and the hook. "Too short."
"That's what I'm thinking," agrees Erica. The Half-Elf turns to the group. "Okay fine, we'll find your key. Then what? The last I checked, Lady Hurrell wasn't paying us to look at Dragon Doors."
"Hucrele, the Lady Hucrele," corrects Nancy.
The Half-Elf Rogue eyes the Elf. "Hucrele, whatever. Like I said, she's not paying us to look at doors." She looks at the group. "Besides, the door is locked. This is a dead-end."
Wait, but…
It's a dead-end, man. She's not wrong.
Fine, if we find the key, we come back.
Quickly settled the party file out of the room back into the tower. The Barbarian swings open the other door. Releasing a stream of stale air toward the others. A more extended, darker hallway was now visible to the group. The Sorcerer throws out his hands four orbs of dancing light appear halfway down the hall.
The Elf places a hand on the Barbarian's chest. "Really, do you remember what happened when you just jumped into a room without looking at your surroundings," states Nancy. The Elf picks up a stray piece of rubble and lobs it toward the dancing lights. It lands in the middle of four stone slabs.
A second delay and an arrow fly at a diagonal in the direction of the rock. It is now lodged in the floor.
The group files through the hall, one behind the other, avoiding the trap. The Dwarf and Gnome taking more of a leap. The Dwarf stops curiosity too strong. He motions to one of the Rogues as he opens the door to his left.
It's empty, filled only with rocky debris.
The Rogues shrug.
The door to the right, another carved relief, this one a dragon-like fish swimming. The Half-Elf Rogue opens the door with ease. The dancing lights light the small room carved from the mountain's stone. It contains a cask framed by rusted iron. There are rusted pipes leading from the keg into the floor.
"Fascinating," declares Dustin.
"Bal, what are you doing," asks Lucas with concern. "Bal, Bal!" The Ranger grabs for the Dwarf, but he is not fast enough.
The Dwarf steps into the room. He examines the iron bevels and then hits the barrel with the butt of his axe. "What do you think it's used for?" The sound of sloshing liquid can be heard echoing from the inside. The Dwarf takes hold of the top stopper. Wrenching it from the lid, the pipes below begin to shake, but the keg stays secure. The Dwarf situates his goggles across his face and looks inside.
There's a sudden burst of hot and frosted steam as the room, and surrounding hall become filled with mist forcing the group to split apart. The Half-Elf Rogue, Barbarian, Elf, Dwarf, and Gnome are at the front. The other Rogue, Half-Elf Monk, Ranger, Paladin, Fighter, and Sorcerer at the back.
The Adventurers wave their hands to separate the mist in an attempt to see.
The mist began to separate, forming a grouping of impish creatures. Hovering in the air, steam radiates from one, its tendrils start to hiss, and it glowers as it looks from left to the right in both directions. The other creatures are comprised of the frigid and what is left of the stale air. They are aloof and uncaring as they look at the company. The creatures' whispers sound like the wind hitting ice and evaporating as the frost-laden creatures begin to circle the one that steams. Our Adventurers might have them flanked, but the monsters do not seem to care.
Fucking hell!
Dustin, what did you do!
I was curious!
The Half-Elf Monk waves a hand through the mist and flings a dart through the area. It flies through the wingless wings of a frost-covered creature. It yawns, genuinely bored.
Suddenly the creature barks in pain with its voiceless speech. Looking down at its leg, a short crossbow bolt from the Fighter sticks out from its shin.
A warhammer swings through the air without warning, only to touch the misted air. The monster shifts its attention. It cocks its head back and breathes. Frost begins inching along the walls, floor, and ceiling. The frost-frozen air creeps across the Rogue, Ranger, Half-Elf Monk, Fighter, Sorcerer, and Paladin. It bites deep, leaving the Fighter and Sorcerer worse for wear. Both grit their teeth to subside the screams of pain.
"Mephit," Argyle yells out. The Gnome lifts his hands in the air, his long sleeves falling to his elbow. "Brace for it, my dudes."
On instinct, the Paladin raises his hands to his ears. The Fighter, Rogue, Half-Elf Monk, Ranger, and Sorcerer mimic his actions.
The Gnome smacks his hands together, releasing a loud clap of thunder onto the three Mephit. The walls shake, causing stone dust to fall from the ceiling hitting everyone inside the hall. The Mephit, with the bolt in its shin,' body begins to crack like ice.
The Ranger lunges forward, shortswords in hand. He swipes once, twice, and a Mephit slams into the wall bursting into a shower of ice. The shards missing the Half-Elf Monk, Rogue, and Paladin.
Enraged, the Mephit, with tendrils of steam cocks its head back and begins to exhale a billow of scalding steam in the direction of the Elf, Barbarian, Half-Elf Rogue, Gnome, and Dwarf. Each can feel their bodies boil, leaving them with the after-effects of a first-degree burn.
Steadying her feet and keeping her distance, the arrow flying from her short bow lands in the Mephit's membrane-less wing radius.
The Dwarf swings his axe in the direction of the creature's curled limbs.
The Elf shifts back, shooting an arrow clean through the monster's chest. It's a cry similar to the other Mephits, exploding into a cloud of steam.
Greatsword in hand, the Barbarian swings at the lone Mephit. Slicing it in two, it bursts into a cloud of ice. The Barbarian holding his forearm up to protect his face.
-.-.-.-
"Damn it, Dustin," yelled everyone in unison, looks of indignation on all their faces.
A few of the group pelt him with popcorn.
Dustin held up his hands in a lazy attempt to protect himself. "I said I was sorry!"
"I have two hit points, Dustin, two hit points," griped Will.
Robin smirked in Dustin's direction.
-.-.-.-
"Don't do that ever again… do you understand me," scolds Nancy. The Elf watches the Dwarf, her insides still burning.
The Dwarf waves his hand, walking in the direction of the door.
"If you touch that door. I swear to all the gods," starts Erica. She, like the others, is leaning against the hallway walls, resting against the cool floor.
The Dwarf sighs leaning against the wooden door. "I wasn't going to open it," protests Dustin.
Dexterity, Acrobatics, or Athletics roll, please.
What? Seriously Robin?
One of those rolls, please.
One…
The door slowly swings open, and the Dwarf falls with it. He lands on the butt of both of his axes. The vibration of the fall causes the nails holding the henges together to loosen, and the door, now a simple board, falls flat on the Dwarf's face.
The group walks past the fallen Dwarf. The Half-Elf Rogue takes a quick look inside the empty keg. Five tiny sapphires sit, the magic used to bind the Mephits now gone. She pockets the gems to divi up later.
The Barbarian taking pity on him, lifts the fallen door, only to drop it again on the Dwarf's face. His full attention to the crudely painted bright green glyphs decorating the large, irregularly shaped chamber. "What in the…," says Steve.
"Ow…," says Dustin. The Dwarf removes himself from his prone position.
A large pit sits at its center, evidence of a recent fire. A metallic cage sits in the middle of the southernmost wall and has a gaping hole. It is empty. Next to the pen is a small wooden bench. A green cloth drapes over it. Several small objects resting atop. A lone bedroll lies near the wood bench.
The sound of whimpering comes from inside it. The sound has yet to notice our company of Adventurers. It is whimpering too loud.
The Fighter and Ranger each hold a finger to their lips, creeping ahead of the others.
The bundle of whimpers slowly shifts to wails of agony.
The Ranger pulls the bedroll.
The party is met with a scrawny Gully Dwarf. His beard is unkempt, and his tunic is filthy. The Gully Dwarf's eyes are bloodshot from tears. He is heartsick. The Gully Dwarf, eyes wide, leaps from the bedroll, rushing toward the steel cage. He lunges through the hole, hands on the bars staring at our Adventurers.
"Please don't, please, don't hurt, Meepo," says the Gully Dwarf, his voice soft, a panicked whisper. In the light of the torch-lit wall, everyone can see Meepo is covered in numerous scars and multiple patches of burnt skin along his arms, some of which cover his hands. "Don't hurt, Meepo, please. He didn't mean to lose her!" Meepo begins to cry again, his eyes flooding with tears. He begins to bang his head on the bars.
The Sorcerer holds out his arms keeping the Gully Dwarf from continuing to hurt himself.
Stepping forward, the Gnome analyzes the scars. "You're taking care of a dragon," asks Argyle. The Gnome notices the glint of scales. He pockets some for examination later.
A Dragon?! Eddie is a madman!
He was a genius!
The group motions for Meepo to exit the cage and join them by the fire pit. If they were going to get any information from this Gully Dwarf, they might as well take a short rest.
"Was—," Meepo starts to cry again. "The clan's dragon … we lost it! The wretched mites stole Calcryx!" Meepo cries again, whipping his face with this filthy tunic. A stream of snot glistens.
...
Time passes, everyone is rested, and Meepo is finally calm, though he releases an occasional sniffle in the air.
"Can you tell us how many of you are there," asks Nancy. The Elf inadvertently looms over the Gully Dwarf, causing it to shiver. "What about the mites?"
Meepo hides behind the robes of the Sorcerer. "Don't hurt. Meepo doesn't know, but Yusdrayl does." He nods his head vigorously. "Meepo will take you to meet Yusdrayl, our leader." He begins to pace back and forth. "If you make nice. You'll get safe passage if you promise to make nice." He stops focusing on our group of Adventurers. "Maybe," colossal grin forms across his face. "Maybe, if you promise to rescue Calcryx, Yusdrayl will make nice and answer your questions," he finishes proudly of his idea.
"Rescue a dragon," asks Eleven.
"The little guy's crazy. He has to be crazy," adds Erica.
The Sorcerer looks at his companions. "There is a way we could rescue you, your Dragon."
"You've lost it. It's a dragon," states Mike in a hushed tone to not startle Meepo.
The Gnome looks to the Sorcerer, and he produces the scales he found for the group. He holds them out for the others to see. "A white dragon, wyrmling. She's just a baby dragon."
You guys just dodged the biggest bullet.
What?
There's a list of at least six different random encounters here.
Our band of Adventurers travels together through the halls. They pass rooms filled with other Gully Dwarfs. Whenever they reach a door, Meepo shouts the word "Ticklecorn" in Dwarvish. They pass an open area prison. Inside the bars sit four small humanoids, no doubt mites. Large shackles of rusted chains are attached to the floor by spikes. Their weapons are broken and thrown to the side.
Meepo points in the direction of an open room. Archways frame a short throne that stands near the west wall. The throne is constructed of fallen masonry. At its top, an altar were various small items. A rearing stone dragon head serves as the throne's top ornament. Its jaws hold firmly to a metallic key.
"Ticklecorn," Meepo bows toward the Gully Dwarf on the throne flanked by two guards. The guards' eye Meepo, disinterested, but grip tight to their simple axes and shields. They watch the Rogue, Fighter, Ranger, Elf, Paladin, Sorcerer, Half-Elf Rogue, Half-Elf Monk, Barbarian, Gnome, and Dwarf.
Yusdrayl is as disheveled as Meepo. Her clothes are strategically covered in muck. Her braided crown of hair is a mess. Her face smudged with dust.
The Barbarian steps forward. The Ranger and the Dwarf try to pull him back in line with the others. The Half-Elf Rogue eyes the Elf, and with a sigh, she steps in line with the Barbarian to help, just in case. "My Lady—," says Steve. The Elf grabs his bicep, her lips centimeters from his ear.
Performance check.
Twenty-two, dirty twenty
"Yusdrayl," Nancy says through gritted teeth in a harsh whisper.
"My Lady Yusdrayl," Steve completes. The Barbarian smiles wild teeth out.
Yusdrayl looks down at the others, her focus on the Barbarian, slightly on the Elf. "Queen."
The Barbarian clears his throat. "Queen—Queen Lusdrayl, as you can see, we have not come here with cruelty in mind … Ticklecorn," ends Steven. The Barbarian squints, not sure if he should go on.
The Leader of these Gully Dwarfs rests her head against her palm elbow on the thrown. "What. Do. You. Want?"
He took in a deep breath of relief. "We—" Steve starts. The Barbarian motions to his companions. "We were told we could have safe passage … if—if we helped you retrieve your dragon."
The Elf grabs at the Barbarian. "Ask about the other Adventurers," states Nancy. The Elf pulls him back again. "Also the fruit, and those twig monsters … the walking trees from outside," finishes Nancy. The Elf lets him go, still standing close to the Barbarian.
The Barbarian straightens his back. Runs a hand through his hair. "We were tasked by a Merchant family of Oakhurst, the neighboring village. To find some adventures that came along this way."
Yusdrayl shifts in her seat. She is bored. "They went to fight the mites. Never returned."
The Barbarian nods. "Um…" Steve pauses. He snaps his fingers. "There's a fruit. We're also here for a fruit, and there were these trees… these walking trees! What are those?"
"The Outcast lives below. He grows the fruit. He gives it to the mites." She bangs both fists on the arms of the throne. "Dragon thieves, they are his servants!" She leans closer to the Barbarian, and he steps closer to her. "The Twig Blights are his pets. The Outcast has many below in the Twilight Grove."
She looks at Meepo and our group of Adventurers. "Go, get back Calcryx, get back dragon, and all you see." Yusdrayl points to the items resting atop the thrown's alter. "Will be yours."
"Even the key," asks the Half-Elf Rogue in a rush.
"Yes, even the key, but only if you bring back the dragon."
Meepo nods vigorously, the smile on his face enormous. "Yes, yes! Agreed to help get back Calcryx! We get Calcryx back!"
-.-.-.-
The watch alarm looped inside the Harington den. Ten-Thirty. Time for the Sinclaire siblings to return home. They all rose from their seats, stretching with audible pops. Steve began to grab discarded bags and empty cans with Argyle's help, even Jonathan's. The boys brushed at the couch cushions. While Eleven helped Nancy and Erica roll the game map and grab the dice and figures.
"Next weekend," asked Nancy aloud to everyone.
"Do you even have to ask," acknowledged Erica? The boys made incoherent sounds of approval. Steve and Argyle could be heard from the kitchen, yelling their agreement to do the same.
Nancy bobbed her head. "Alright, we'll have it in our basement this time. Maybe that way, you two can stay longer." She placed the container of dice inside the larger box of Eddie's materials Robin had reorganized for herself. "You know since 'parents' will be present. What do you think." She looked at Mike.
Mike shrugged. "Yeah, sure, the basement."
Robin eyes Nancy, a smirk on her face. Nancy rolls her eyes. Little brothers. "All right, everyone who's coming with me, come on. Apparently, I'm responsible. At least that's what Robin told your mom." She looks at Erica and Lucas.
...
The group is standing together in the front, split between the two vehicles, Steve on the front porch. "If my dad finds out I did this and wants me working at that damn lab. I'm blaming you. All of you!" He gave a half-hazard wave.
"Shotgun," shouts Dustin.
Robin opened the door to the front seat. She handed the box over to Dustin. Robin stepped in and sat down with a smirk.
"Hey! I said shotgun." Dustin clammers into the back, sitting next to Erica. And finally, Lucas. Will in the very back.
Robin turns to Dustin. "I know, I heard."
Dustin grumbled.
"Watch your head, Mike," states Nancy from the driver's seat. They all waved in the direction of Steve and the others as they climbed into the truck.
"I know, I know, I'm a tree." Mike rested his back against the side window.