The scarred dwarf paced in front of the retinue of soldiers before him. The Deepguard were some of the finest fighters the city of Bhotmerdurd had ever seen. They worked vigilantly to keep their home safe from the many terrors and dangers of the underground. Eradicating monsters like the murderous hook horrors, the treacherous ropers, the brutish grimlocks, and the deadly black puddings were simply everyday tasks for them.
But where the Deepguard truly displayed their prowess was in battling against intelligent, organized foes. Goblins and ogres had often fallen to their might, as well as the fiendish gray dwarves, the duergar. They had even waged defensive wars against the supremely evil drow and their constant raids on Bhotmerdurd.
But the brave soldiers of the Deepguard had never gone up against anything like what General Byzar Glondil was describing.
"There's no chance of taking them by surprise," the old dwarf said. "If one sees ye, they all see ye. And they'll immediately mobilize their thralls to come face us. Lucky for us, we've beaten plenty of the likes of their foot soldiers. We all fought orcs and ogres, goblins, and such. But we ain't never fought against the ones callin the shots."
"I'm not afraid of mind flayers, General." The young Drarik said. He had only been able to grow a beard ten years ago, but what he lacked in experience, he made up for in bravado. His comrades nodded.
"Yer not afraid of them because ye ain't never encountered one," General Byzar said. "The only way we're gonna even hope to beat them is by overwhelming them with absolute crushing force. If we're lucky, we'll decimate the ranks of their mind-controlled slaves and scare them so badly, they'll turn tail and run away. Mind flayers are like that. If they can't beat an enemy easily and quickly, they'll just disappear."
"Sounds like a bunch of cowards," Drarik said.
Byzar nodded and ran his hand through his graying beard. "Aye. They're cowards, through and through. But they survive. No matter what, they survive."
He turned to the map on the wall that displayed the surrounding cavern layout. With a long stick, he pointed at a space close to the symbol indicating Bhotmerdurd City.
"Not even a week ago, there was nothin here but rock. No ores for mining, no lichens for gatherin, not even bats for guano. But now our scouts are bringin reports of a huge, bizarre structure in that area. It was too big to fit through any of the tunnels, but there it was, plain as day. It was as if the thing just suddenly appeared there.
The scouts couldn't describe it so good, lackin the words to define such a thing. All they could say was that it seemed to be alive. Throbbing. Pulsing. Twitchin, almost. And that it was big. About as big as Bhotmerdurd Fort," Byzar said.
The grizzled general continued. "I only ever heard of somethin like that from my da. When he was a young dwarf, he had ventured too far down when he was lookin for gems and gold. He came upon somethin similar to the weird building we're now dealin with. He told me about glassy-eyed orcs and trolls slavin away, clearin out rock and rubble. There was hundreds of em! Hundreds, he said, but he saw only one of the masters. And the master, well, he saw my da.
And that was when the doom came to Angerbody City. Only fifty-two dwarves survived. And they all tell tales of the tentacle-headed monster what done it. That's why Bhotmerdurd City is as young as it is. It was founded by those fifty-two survivors. And that's why, when we move out, we hit the mind flayers as hard and as fast as we can. Because we won't let Angerbody happen again. Not on our fuckin watch."
The soldiers cheered at the general's speech. And as they marched out of the garrison, on their way to defeat the new and strange enemy, there wasn't an ounce of fear in any of their hearts.
Except for General Byzar. And the red-bearded dwarf who walked beside him.
"Dagli. I'm glad you're comin with us. There's no doubt in my mind we're gonna be wantin yer healin magics," Byzar said, readjusting the axe at his side.
"And I'm hopin we don't need any of it," Dagli said.
"You been prayin to that foreign god of yers?" Byzar asked.
Dagli let out a sigh. "The Joybringer don't belong to elves or humans or anyone. She ain't foreign. Llira is a goddess for everyone. Providin that they can look up from their daily grind and actually appreciate their blessings."
"She ain't no Moradin," Byzar said.
Dagli wasn't going to argue. "That she ain't."
Byzar lowered his voice. "So what's her story?"
He gestured to the young human woman trailing Dagli. She had strawberry blonde hair, but unusual streaks of color ran through it. Green, blue, and violet could be seen in her messy ponytail. Her soft brown eyes made her seem young, but the way she carried her bow spoke of an experience that went beyond her years.
"Her? That's Beacon. We're…ah…traveling together," Dagli said.
Byzar raised his thick gray eyebrows. "Where'd you find her?"
"Out and about. Let's just say we share similar interests," Dagli said.
"Like what?"
"Like ancient ruins. Archeology. Old things forgotten by time," Dagli explained.
Byzar grunted. Dagli had always been a weird one, ever since he was a lad. "Oh, so she's weird like you. Got it. Glad you found a kindred spirit. Now, let's press on."
The war band reached the lifeless cavern that had been empty just a week prior. The huge building could now be seen and the sheer size of it stole the words from every soldier. It was a thing that simply made no sense. Not here, not anywhere. How did it get here? It was simply too large to fit through any tunnels or corridors in the cavern. Its intrusion on reality only made it even more imposing. Unknowable. And dreadful in a way that went beyond words.
No one could spot any movement within, given that there were no windows or apertures to be seen. No guards patrolled the nearby area. As far as anyone could tell, the huge, multi-storied construct was empty and abandoned.
As quiet as the surroundings appeared, the soldiers gripped their weapons, ready to charge the grotesque structure at the word of the general. But he hesitated, his old soldier's instincts telling him to wait.
"Was there always smoke coming out of the top?" Byzar asked the task force.
"No, sir!" a soldier reported.
"Maybe something inside was damaged," Beacon said.
Byzar growled. "We might have to fight through fire, boys."
The Deepguard was undeterred. "We're ready to go," Drurik said.
"Right. Bring out the Hammer," Byzar commanded.
Ten of the hundred dwarves pushed what was fondly referred to as the Hammer. It was a marvel of dwarven engineering, a huge heavy pillar set horizontally on four wheels. At the touch of a button, it could batter its way through any locked door or gate, using a clockwork mechanism that used an obscene amount of gears, steam, and fire. It could also drive itself forward, mowing over any unfortunate foes that happened to be in its way.
"Is the Hammer ready?" Byzar asked the team.
"Aye, sir!" the ten replied.
"Then there's nothin more to do." Byzar took a deep breath. "Nothin except to CHARGE!"
The troop of dwarves ran madly at the hideous, pulsing edifice, hoping to be the first one to slay a mind flayer.
There was no front door. No entryway into the horrendous building. So the Hammer made one. The heavy device slammed against the wall only three times before a ragged entrance was made. The surface was unlike anything the dwarves had ever seen. It didn't behave like stone or metal. The wall didn't break. It ripped open, like it was a slab of meat.
Once the hole was made, a waft of nauseatingly warm, moist air blew onto the soldiers. Curses were uttered, but no one lost heart. The General didn't say retreat. So the hundred Deepguard soldiers poured into the new, raw hole, ready to fight.
The room they found themselves in was similar to the outside, crafted with an unnerving absence of right angles. The architect must have had an appreciation for curved, rounded shapes that resembled unknown organs of some massive creatures. The humidity was almost intolerable, but the smell was worse. The interior smelled like the refuse of a fisherman left out in the hot sun.
"At least there's nothing on fire," Drurik said. "Yet."
Gently curving corridors ran to either side of the chamber in which the dwarves had broken into. One seemed to rise upward while the other sloped downward. Strange consoles and cases lined the walls, each throbbing with sinister purpose and unnerving lights.
Dagli cast a critical eye on the walls. They were scorched in places, shattered in others. A fleshy door kept opening and closing in the wall, like it wasn't working properly. Occasionally, some of the strange glowing lights set along the walls at intervals would blink on and off. Green odorless gas hissed from a cracked pipe.
"Did something attack this place?" Dagli asked.
"I just want to know where the damn mind flayers are! They should be here!" General Byzar growled.
"We should be careful," Beacon said. "Something is up." The task force stepped into another chamber.
The intermittent lights illuminated inert bodies lying on the floor. Some were slumped against the walls. Others were draped over the consoles. At first, Dagli thought they were humans. Humans, who had been in this damnable place and caught up in a slaughter. Each and every one of their heads was missing, seemingly crushed or exploded from the inside out.
But there was no blood. No blood that Dagli could recognize. Only a shimmering silver fluid splattered across the floor.
He sighed. "Found 'em."
Byzar rushed over to his side and saw the bodies of the dead mind flayers. "What in the name of Moradin happened here?"
Drarik crept up to what looked like a strange sarcophagus sitting upright against the wall. He peered through the translucent part of the lid and gasped at what he saw.
"There's a person in here!" he cried.
Other dwarves clustered around Drarik, cursing at the atrocity. The figure inside was motionless, but the viewing area was fogged up from trapped condensation. There was no telling what shape the person was in.
"Oh, fer the love of gods, get him out of there!" Beacon said. She felt around the clammy sarcophagus until she found a button. The lid slid back with a sickening squish and the body inside fell to the floor.
He might have been human, once. But one side of his head had expanded like a balloon and his jaw had erupted in hideous growths, like the stubby tentacles one would see on a baby octopus. His face was frozen in a mask of horrified agony.
And Beacon could quickly tell he wasn't breathing.
"There's more," Drurik said. He pointed to a long row of similar upright sarcophagi. Each was foggy. Each was occupied. And each occupant was dead, trapped in the horrific transition from man to monster. "What are they doin here?"
"My best guess? They were captured and got implanted with the mind flayers' tadpoles," Byzar said.
"Ew. Why?" Drurik asked.
"That's how they reproduce, son. By turning people into more like them," Dagli said.
"Moradin protect us," Drurik muttered. "Do you think that one is any different? Seems like it's important or something."
He pointed to a holding pod set on a dais away from the others, as if in a show of reverence. Far more tubes and lines of fluid ran to it than any of the others. Carvings of mind flayer heads were carved around the base and ornate top. The ornate sarcophagus seemed more religious than anything they had encountered so far. Like it was built not just for a practical purpose, but also to be beautiful. If anything could be beautiful in a nightmare like the one they all found themselves in now.
Beacon peered into the viewing window, completely unafraid.
"What are you doin, girl? We have to go," Dagli said.
She turned to him with a horrified expression. "This one is still alive."
Dagli hustled to her side. "How d'ye know?"
Beacon frowned, trying to find the right words. "He cried out for help."
"I didn't hear anything," Dagli said.
Beacon tapped on the viewing window. "You still human?"
"Leave 'im. He won't be human for long," Dagli said.
Ignoring him, the woman slapped something on the side of the pod. The hatch slid aside into the main fleshy body and fresh air flowed into the sarcophagus. The man inside gasped as he took a breath and collapsed onto the floor in a limp heap.
"He's not all squidded out," the woman said.
"Iffin he tries to eat yer brains, you'll have naught to blame but yerself," Dagli said.
The woman wasn't listening to him. "Can you stand?"
The man tried to get his feet underneath him, but he was too weak and uncoordinated to do it. He struggled for a bit until the woman grabbed his forearm. Despite her short stature, she managed to help him stand.
Now that he was upright, everyone could see that he was indeed human, but there was something deeply wrong with him. His arms and legs were much too long for an ordinary person, his fingers even more so. Thin to the point of gauntness, he didn't have a single hair on his head. And worse yet, his left eye was completely white, like it was covered by a milky white cataract.
The Deepguard surrounded Beacon and the lone survivor. Suspicion was written on each dwarf's face but they stayed their hands and waited for the general to give them the command.
"Where…where is Kezerath?" the trembling man asked in a weak voice.
Beacon blinked. "Not sure, mate. But we gotta get out of here."
"Yes. It is awake. It knows you're here," he said.
"What's awake?" Beacon asked.
The man looked at her and at the dwarven task force with haunted eyes that had witnessed unimaginable horrors. "Zabekus. The elder brain."
Author's Note: Seems like something happened to the mind flayers before the Deepguard even got there. But what could have happened? Why did the elder brain remain behind? And what are they going to do with the man they just found?
Bonus points to anyone who knows where the name "Bhotmerdurd" came from! Leave me your answers in a comment!