The Four- Chapter 21: Foes from all Sides

Pouring from the hidden passage, the party found themselves in a long chamber. It was crowded with rough-hewn furniture; bunks, tables, and chairs littered the area. The floor was covered in pelts, as were many of the bunks. Facing them were two rows of orcs, some wearing armor, others hastily trying to don hide chest pieces and gauntlets. An orog  stood beyond the orcs, bellowing orders and calling out threats.

“Stunty-lovin’ fools! Old Yarrack’s boys are gonna cut you all down!”

Jarek and Malark were in front of the orcs. Jarek had mounted a table and was laughing. Malark was flexing and staring, breathing hard. Veins bulged in his massive biceps and along his tree-trunk neck. He finally howled, more wolf-like than human. He pointed his axe at one of the orcs and growled.

“Gonna die, greenskin!”

The orc he pointed at, looked side to side, then tried to retreat. The orcs behind him shoved him, pushing him back into line.

“Not him. You!” Malark kept pointing.

Two orcs in the second row looked at each other, then back at Malark. One of them turned to flee when the orog stepped up and smashed it in the face,

“Der be five of the runters, Nuznack! Stay ‘n fight, coward!”

The orc, shook his head and tried to slip past the orog. The two of them started to scuffle and wrestle.

“On ‘em!” Jarek leapt from his perch, hammer back in a two-hand grip. Malark launched himself at the cowering orc, axe swinging up. Jarek crushed the orc, his two-handed strike crumpling the creature into a heap.  He used his momentum to roll off the dead creature and two-boot kick an orc in the second line. Malark’s strike shattered a raised greataxe, continuing down to cripple his opponent. Malark drove his knee into the creature’s gut, then shoved him backwards before spinning to slash his axe deep into another orc. Lia blinded one orc with a ball of flames to its face, before hitting another with a crossbow bolt. As the bolt drilled into the orc, she was already making sigils in the air, speaking mystic words, calling on the Weave and its arcane power. Seraphina charged, blades swinging. She bounded around and over the cluttered mess, leaping from a barrel to a table then into the orc line with one blade out, rolling the other into a reverse grip. She deflected an axe, the stabbed her blade into an orc, the plunging steel entered at the neck and penetrated deep into the creature’s chest cavity. She used the planted blade to spin around the mortally-wounded orc and kick another in the face. Adran stayed back, sending arrow after arrow into the line of orcs.

Speed and violence surprised the orcs. They fought in a disordered, clumsy mass. The orog was still struggling to keep the frightened orc in the room, bellowing threats and oaths at orc and dwarf alike. Malark was the biggest target, and bore the brunt of the attacks. The orcs swung and missed, or grazed the hulking man as he twisted and spun, smashing his shield and axe into any greenskin he could reach. Two lines of orcs only hindered their ability to fight together. Without spears and shields, the back line was forced to poke at the party with slender javelins instead of supporting their fellows.

Seraphina reached around the impaled orc and cut its throat with her free blade, dangling from the other still lodged in the beast. She let go of the stuck blade, narrowly avoiding a poked javelin that stuck into the dying orc. She slipped a dagger out, using sword and dagger in her usual style, stabbing and blocking, a tiny whirl of flashing steel. Malark bashed an orc in the face, then kicked it in the knee, toppling the injured beast. He turned and swung his axe in a crushing blow that opened an unarmored orc from shoulder to hip. Jarek swung and kicked, still laughing maniacally. He was in his element, stuck in a close, tight melee where number counted for little due to the cluttered confines of the space. His steel boots stomped and kicked, adding bruises and smashed toes to the hammer-blows he was dealing. Adran concentrated his fire, ending one orc, then picking another target. Lia released the conjured energies she pulled from the Weave, the coruscating blast bubbling and hissing in an acrid splash of green ooze that burned through armor and flesh alike. Slapping at the smoking ooze, the orc squealed in pain, its scrabbling hands slowing until it sank on lifeless legs.

The remaining orcs were frantic. They had been so self-assured and confident before the blood started to flow. Every stroke from the Four and their dwarf friend dealt hideous damage.  Half the orcs lay dead or dying amid the clutter of debris and furniture in the large chamber. The orog had stopped fighting with the fleeing orc, screaming to it instead, “Go ye useless git! Go fetch Burdug and her hags! Go! Then Bajok! Get all de boys!” One of the orcs caught Seraphina, her blade taking much of the impact, but cutting her deep. She staggered back, hurling her dagger at the orc. The other two swung uselessly at Malark and Jarek, axe blades sweeping air.

Malark used the foundering swing to step into the orc’s guard, delivering a smashing blow that clove the beast’s skull in two. He followed the death-blow with a howling spin that tore the axe free and buried it into the spine of the orc who had just wounded Seraphina. Lia sent a mote of flame across the room to impact on the orog as he turned from the fleeing orc to enter the fight. It growled and swore at Lia, slapping at the smoking, blistered flesh. The orog charged Malark, his greataxe was a massive, heavy instrument of war and the beast swung it with both hands firmly on the haft. Malark raised his shield to block the first blow, the smashing impact pushing the huge man to a knee. The orog attempted another strike, but a quick roll let Malark escape a second hit. Adran hit the orog twice with arrows, running forward to punch the surviving orc before grabbing it by the arm to spin it into Jarek’s hammer.

Malark was back on his feet. Circling the huge orog, he growled and swore. “Dead. Dead greenskin.” His eyes were blazing with an anger they rarely saw. “All dead.”

The orog laughed and swore. It knew it was probably doomed, but it also knew help was coming. “All die. Stupid humie.” It spat a gob of phlegm at Malark, hitting the angry man in the bare chest. In an instant Malark bounded forward, his axe sweeping from low guard to carve through the breast’s armor and flesh alike. He kept plowing forward, head-butting the orog then sinking his teeth into the creature’s cheek. Its axe was no use in the grappling match and it pummeled Malark in the ribs, hammering punches in rapid succession. Malark headbutted the orog again and again, breaking its face in several places, its eyes welling with tears from the pain and impact until it was nearly blind. Blood poured from the beast’s smashed nose, choking the beast. Seraphina had recovered enough to sprint to Malark’s aid. Both hands on the pommel of her blade, she drove it deep into the orog’s side, burying the blade, then ripping it free to enlarge the deep wound. The beast snapped its tusked jaws at Malark, but he kept dodging the weakening attempts. He dropped his head to bite the creatures throat, teeth digging deep into leathery hide. His picked the beast up, turning in a throw that slammed the beast into a large chest. The impact broke its spine, paralyzing the orog’s legs. It swung feeble blows at them, unable even to maintain its axe grip. Malark stood over the beast, orc blood covering his face and chest. He raised his head and howled in triumph. Jarek stepped up and smashed his hammer down, crushing the orog’s skull and ending it.

All of them were panting and gasping, the adrenaline dump leaving them weakened after the vicious fight.

“Can’t. Stop. He sent. Wee git. More.” Even Jarek was wheezing.

Adran was rummaging through a pouch the orog wore on its belt. He pulled a vial out, held it up to the light then tossed it to Seraphina. “You took a pretty good blow. We all need to catch our breath before more trouble finds us.”

Catching the vial, Seraphina shook her head. “I’m okay. Malark looks worse off than me.”

“Looks.” Lia walked up to him. “I think all this blood is orc blood. Gods ‘n fiends, Malark…’ She didn’t finish.

“Hate greenskins.”

“I can tell.”

“Little friend drink potion.”

“Really, I am ok. All that might be orc blood, but you are cut, there, there, and there. And that arrow hit from earlier… Yondalla’s blessings!” Seraphina pointed. “Take this.”

Malark’s huge hand dwarfed Seraphina’s as he took the vial. He uncapped it and drank half the contents, then capped it and handed back. “Better?”

“No!” Seraphina laughed. “Drink it all!”

Malark shook his head and picked up his axe. “Find more orcs.”

“Hold on, big fella, let’s at least look around a bit. These orcs might have some coins hidden away.”

All five searched through the mess and debris. Each of the orcs had a handful of personal coins, but nothing else was located amid all the crates and barrels. They poked and prodded. Tossing skins and blankets off the bunks, and emptying sacks. Adran was antsy and was pacing near the door watching the others.

“We should go. That one that fled has had plenty of time to get help.”

“Hold on, elf, dint be so hasty. I think I found something.” Jarek was circling the room, fingers tracing cracks and protrusions. He tugged on a stone and it came free, thudding on the hide-covered floor. Crouching to peer in, Jarek reached into the void and pulled a sack out. He hefted the heavy sack, jangling with coins and turned to the others with a smile. “More coins. You four nay gonna need a thing after this journey. And…” he peered into the dark void before reaching in, “an axe.” Hefting the axe he turned it to inspect the head. “Kin it be?” He held the axe reverently. “This has the mark of Durgeddin. They do exist. Creation’s left by The Black. Moradin provides.”  Slipping off his pack and stowing the coins and the axe, Jarek stood up and picked up his hammer. He headed to the door, looking up at Adran. “Just a moment longer then ye wanted, elf. A moment nay ginnae make it worse. An’, I found one of the most precious treasures here.”

Jarek stopped, and sniffed. Turning his head, he sniffed again, then moved closer to the door. “Stay back. I kin smell somethin’ foul.” He spat and reached for his waterskin. “I kin taste it, too.”

“What is it, Mr. Jarek?” Seraphina sniffed once. “I don’t smell anything.”

“Yer too far away, miss. It be out there.” He pointed through the open door. “I dinnae smell it ‘til I got close.”

Adran leaned towards the door and sniffed once, then covered his face with his cloak. “Poison. Its foul.”

“What can we do?”

“I kin go first. Find the end of the poison.”

“You can’t just go breath that! What if its deadly?”

Jarek laughed and thumped his chest. “Probably an old trap from the before times. Nay ginnae kill this dwarf. You’ll see.” He turned and headed into the hall. He looked both ways and murmured something they couldn’t hear before disappearing to the right. He was gone for a minute or two when they heard him call out. “Hold yer breath and come to my voice. That stupid git musta set off a trap when he ran out.”

“How far are you?”

“Not far. Less ‘en twenty feet. Ye kin make it on a breath.”

“We can’t stay here, and the bridge is gone.” Lia took a deep breath and ran out.

Before any of the three remaining party members decide to go through the poison cloud, they heard growls and barks, and Jarek shouting.

“Ye kin hurry it up! We got company! Git back ye furry beast!”

“Sounds fun. We should probably help.” Seraphina unsheathed her blades and inhaled. She sprinted out of sight, with Malark close behind. Adran sighed and inhaled, rushing after the others.

Passing through the swirling green mist, they found themselves in a worked stone tunnel that was wider and taller than the last few passages they had been in. Jarek and Lia were fending off the attacks of a pair of huge wolves, glinting steel and snapping teeth vying for advantage. Just beyond the melee was a set of steps that climbed above the tunnel floor. They heard a booming, guttural voice shouting almost incoherently.

“Vak! Thrag! Kill ‘em!”

“Perfect.” Adran moved swiftly, drawing and firing at one of the wolves. His target yelped when the arrow hit. Adran kept moving until he could see up the stairs, waving his free hand in the air, murmuring then pointing. A massive ogre was standing on the steps, holding an equally massive greataxe. Brambles and vines sprung from the very stone, a mass of vegetation rapidly growing to entangle the ogre. Vines curled and climbed his legs, thorny brambles filling the wide staircase. Roaring and struggling against the mass of greenery, the ogre broke one leg free, then the other.

“Hoped that would have slowed the beast down for a moment, at least,” Adran called out. He drew and fired again, thudding an arrow into the ogre’s chest. “We’ve got a fight!”

Jarek swung his hammer, connecting with one of the wolves and sending it sprawling. The wolf got up, but was wary, snarling and limping. “Got ye good, ye blighter!” Jarek was laughing again. Pointing his hammer at the ogre he shouted a challenge. “Come on, ye smelly beast! Come fight Jarek, ye big oaf. Taste me dwarven steel!”

Seraphina rushed into the fight. The wolf that was snarling at Jarek barely had time to look her way before she was slicing and stabbing. With a blade in the creature’s back, she flipped over the beast and opened a cut in its belly. The wolf howled in pain, twisting and turning in a vain attempt to connect with the nimble halfling. Lia was slashing and stabbing with a dagger in one hand while her fingers signed and waved, calling on her sorcerous powers. Flames enveloped her hand then blasted into her furry opponent. Smoking fur and sizzling meat sent the wolf into a frenzy. It leapt forward and knocked Lia down, sinking its teeth into her arm. Malark flung his torch aside and gripped his axe in a two-hand grip, swinging in an over-shoulder arc. The blade parted flesh and bone, nearly severing the beast’s spine, ending its life. The massive creature slumped onto Lia, trapping her and forcing the air from her lungs. She sputtered a quiet plea.

“Get it off, I can’t breathe!”

Malark grabbed the ruff of the dead beast and flipped it off her, reaching to pull her to her feet.

She gasped, air filling her lungs. Steadying herself with a hand on the big man’s arm, she nodded her thanks, still trying to catch her breath. Malark patted her on the head, grimace-smiled and charged the ogre.

Seraphina had the other wolf’s attention and was circling and feinting, slicing and stabbing while smashing the beast in the snout whenever it tried to bite her. She was smiling and laughing at Jarek’s continued taunting of the shouting ogre. Despite the seriousness and danger of their situation, somehow this fight seemed less serious than with the orcs and troglodytes.

Jarek was fighting a defensive fight. The ogre was still on the stairs, using the height advantage to swing his massive axe in brutal strokes. Unwilling to give up the security of the stairs, it howled and shouted, trying to goad them into approaching. Jarek was dancing around, trying to smash the axe every time the ogre swung the weapon. Finally connecting, dwarven steel rang off the axe, smashing a chunk from the rusty axe head.

“Ay told ye, ye stupid beast! Dwarven steel will win this day! Come on ye filthy git, come down off yer perch and fight me!” The dwarf had a mad look in his face. He was still smiling, but there was a dangerous glint to his eyes. The ogre was already dead, and didn’t know it.

Lia downed a healing potion, cradling her injured arm while the serum took effect. Malark stood close to Jarek, watching the ogre and the dwarf parry and swing. He was tense, muscles bunched and twitching. He watched the axe swings, and then the ogre retreat back. Adran launched another arrow at the creature, another arrow sticking in its thick skin.

Pouncing, the surviving wolf leapt at Seraphina. She dropped in an instant, both blades stabbing up as the wolf misjudged its leaping attack. Twin blades were buried in the beast’s chest cavity, the leaf-shaped blades disappearing as she shoved them deep. Grasping the hilts tightly, the momentum of the wolf tore the blades free, opening grievous wounds. Seraphina spun and came up to one knee, blades ready. The injured wolf looked to its master, then back at the little halfling that inflicted so many wounds, then turned tail and fled down the corridor.

“Back ye useless mongrel! Fight with me!” The ogre was incensed. His allies were dead or fleeing, his enemies were taunting and unafraid, and he was injured. Finally rushing forward out of the stairwell, he gripped his axe tight, bearing down on Jarek. The dwarf was bouncing on his feet, hammer in both hands, ready for the beast. Malark jumped the instant the ogre moved, swing his axe up, then down in a brutal, crushing stroke. The brute used his mass and strength to drive the strike, his speed making the difference. Unable to defend against a strike he didn’t anticipate, the ogre took the full power of Malark’s axe. The blade hit where the thickly corded shoulder met the beast’s huge arm. Honed steel parted skin, muscle, sinew and bone. Driving the strike with all his might, Malark severed the ogre’s arm, then spun around to drive another blow into the beast from behind. Blinded by pain and the terrible injuries, the ogre was unable to defend Jarek’s attack. Ducking under the one-handed axe stroke, the dwarf smashed his axe into the beast’s knee. Bones cracked and popped. The knee buckled under the impact and the ogre staggered, sinking painfully onto its shattered joint. Adran buried another arrow into the creature, quickly drawing another arrow. Malark swung once more, his axe smashing into to ogre’s neck, taking its head.

As suddenly as the fight began, it was over. Malark had the ogre’s blood spattered all over him. He was gasping from the effort of his brutal attacks. Jarek spat on the crumpled ogre, then kicked the head down the hall. Lia was stretching her arm, fingers flexing as she recovered her strength. Seraphina was watching the passage where the wolf had fled, always alert for more dangers.

“Up the stairs, out of sight.” Adran was moving as he spoke. “Soon enough, more orcs will be heading this way. We need to regroup for a minute.”

Lia didn’t argue. Moving quickly around the fallen bodies and grabbing Malark by the arm, tugging.

“Come on, up the stairs. Let’s go look for treasure.”

Jarek nodded at Adran, then glanced at Seraphina. “Hear anythin’, lassie?’

She shook her head, but kept an eye down the hall as she moved towards the stairs. “Check him for coins.” She nodded towards the dead ogre, and kept watching the far hall.

Jarek knelt, searching the body for pouches or pockets. “Nothing. Must keep his stash up there.” He looked up the stairs and stood. “That wolf wanted no part of yer blades.” His eyes were twinkling. “You bring the fight, miss.” He jerked his head towards the stairs. “After you.”

Up the stairs, the party found themselves in a large chamber. Not quite as big as the barracks, it was still the largest space they had encountered on this level. Iron-bound doors hung open; a bloody human skull was mounted on a spike hammered into one door. Inside, torches burned in bronze brackets mounted on the walls, filling the space with smoke. Poorly cured animal hides covered the stone floor and were piled on a huge, dwarven-made bed frame. The smell was oppressively bad, an indescribable stench filling the chamber.

“Filthy git is right.” Lia spat and coughed. “That beast lives in squalor. Let’s find something and get out.”

“I think the ogre was their chief. Most of the treasure should be up here.” Jarek was kicking at the hide covered floor, flipping some of the hides back. “Where woulda stupid git hide treasure?”

“In chests.” Malark was pointing at a pair of chests against the wall opposite the doors.

“What? Where?” Jarek looked around, then followed Malark’s gaze. “In chests. Right ou’ in the open, cuz the stupid beast though’ this place was secure.”

Booming a laugh, the dwarf stomped over to the chests and flung the lids open. Coins of all shapes filled the chests, gold and silver glinting in the torch light. Atop one pile of metal was a slender rapier crafted from shining steel with a filigreed basket hilt.

“There must be a thousand coins in each one!” Seraphina rushed over to scoop up handfuls of coins and let them fall back into the chest.

“Ay, there musta be.” He picked up the rapier and swung it back and forth. “Not me choice of blades, but ‘tis a fine sword.” Dropping the sword, he bent over and fished a vial out of the coins. Holding it up to the light, they could see brown, silver, and gray layers resembling bands of stone in the liquid. Jarek shook the bottle, but the colors did not mix. “Interesting.” He pocketed the potion, then slammed the chests closed, latching the lids. “We’ll need to hide these someplace.’

“Not yet.” Adran was searching still, turning hides back, and stepping on lumps in the floor. “We can’t get distracted by shiny coins. When we fought the group in that barracks chamber, one of the orcs went for help. Where is that orc?”

“Fled? Was jus’ a distraction. Maybe there aren’t any more, and they was trying to give us a worry.”

“But say there are more. Where are they?”

Seraphina had her lips pursed, like she did when she was thinking. “He said something like ‘Go fetch someone and her hags!’ Then he said ‘Get some orc and all de boys.’ Or something like that.”

“So?”

“Five crowns he meant that shaman and her body guards. The ones we killed right after we got up to this level of the hold.”

“So that orc was going to find dead orcs?”

“At least the shaman. I don’t know what ‘all de boys’ means, but it seems like there might be more orcs up here still.”

“We should have been mapping this as we went.” Adran was looking at Jarek. “Unless you have a map.”

“Nay, elf, I dint have ‘un. Never had ‘un. Dinnae have time to make a map. We been fightin’ since we got up here. I kin tell ya we made a circle ‘round that crevasse and the bridge. Methinks if we tunneled though here,” he pointed near the chests, “we would come back to the passage that led to the doors and the bridge after we rescued those two poor sods.”

“We haven’t seen every chamber here, have we?”

Jarek shrugged. “I cannae say, Mr. Elf, I cannae say. If we find the natural part o’ this level ag’in, I kin tell ya more.”

“After we came up the stairs there was that winding cave part. It had two places that were carved and worked stone. The passage to the bridge, and the passage we didn’t explore. If we see the cave again, we will know we found the other part.”

“After that? Is that all?”

Malark lost interest in their conversation and wandered around, finding a pile of torches. He shoved several into his pack, lighting a new one from his own flickering, fading stick.

“Short o’ checking every wall fer days, I cannae say. Yes? These orcs have had plenty o’ time to search for all the secrets. Even greenskins will find secret passages given ‘nough time.”

“But the Forge?” Lia was tossing flames from hand to hand. “Where is the Forge?”

“Ah! The Forge. It be separate from the Mountain Door. Deeper in the mountain. Remember the Iron Door? Beyond that, methinks.”

“Let’s keep going. If we find all the orcs on this level, then we can finally get some sleep. Suns and moons, we need some real sleep.”

“Find more greenskins?” Malark was standing by the doors, looking down the stairs.

“If you really want to.” Lia picked up her cross bow and crossed the smelly chamber. “If nothing else, we get out of this stinky place.”

“What abou’ the coins?” Jarek was staring at the two chests.

“We come back for them. There is no place safe to stash them yet.”

Filing down the stairs, Jarek was the last to go. He took one last, forlorn look at the chests of glittering gold and silver, then sadly turned away.

The Four- Chapter 20: Surprises and Violence

Adran disappeared around a sharp corner and Malark hurried after him. The others filed after the first two, unable to see them in the windy passage. Some thirty feet on they found them in another large cave. Sleep pallets and furs, plus crates and sacks filled much of the cave. Three tunnels and a hewn passage branched of this space, The noticed the floor and walls had been carefully smoothed, hammer and chisel used to make the natural cave more habitable. From one passage they noticed the red glow of hot coals. Another passage was blocked by a crude wooden cage. Jarek headed towards the glowing coals, leaving the others. Adran approached the cage and heard weak voices from within.

“Thank Yondalla! We’re rescued!”

Seraphina and Lia hurried over to look through the bars of the cage. Malark barely glanced at the sound, and moved around the cave looking in the crates and sacks.

“Who are you?” Adran hefted the heavy lock and chain that closed the cage.

“My name is Geradil and she is Courana. We are from Blackburn, a little place about a day or so from here. On the way to Goldenfields.”

“How did you get here?” Seraphina could see the prisoners were filthy, their clothes tattered and worn.

“Captured by the orcs. They have been raiding and stealing.”

“Taking prisoners for ransom, too.”

“’Cept our families can’t raise the ransom.” Courana frowned. “I don’t know what will happen to us.”

“You are going to rescue us, right?” Geradil had his face pressed to the wooden bars and was reaching out. “You can’t leave us here. They will kill us!”

“Can you fight? We aren’t leaving yet, and we have orcs to fight and kill.”

“Nay, we can’t fight.” Geradil looked down sadly. “I’m just a farmer. She works in the tavern.”

“I can punch an unruly drunk, I can’t swing a sword.” Courana leaned against the bars. “But you can’t leave us here.”

“We don’t know the way out. Not up here. We can’t escort you home through the caves below. Not yet. What do you want us to do?”

Adran dropped the heavy lock. “If we get you out, you will have to hide on your own. In the dark. If any orcs find you, what will happen?”

The two prisoners looked at each other. The girl shook her head, and looked away.

“Can we just accompany you? Follow behind? We’ll stay out of yer way. Promise.”

Serphina reached through the bars to touch the girl. “It won’t be safe. Once we get in a fight, we can’t protect you. Not if there are too many orcs.”

“We’ll take our chance. Being out there, with a chance to run and live, is better than being in here knowing we are going to die.

Jarek came back in, interrupting them. “Nothin’ in the other cave except some battered pots and pans and remains of meals. Ho! What do we have here?”

He stepped close to the cage and looked at the two human prisoners.

Serphina replied to him. “Meet Courana and Geradil. They are from Blackburn. Not too far from here.”

“Orcs bring ye here to eat?” Jarek snorted.

“For ransom, Mr. Dwarf. ‘Cept our families are too poor to pay.”

Adran leaned against the cage. “Should we get them out? Or leave them be for now?”

“Get us out!” Geradil was insistent and pleading. “Please!”

“Can they fight?” Jarek eyed the two prisoners. Adran shook his head. “Be a liability, then. And we cannae afford a liability. Not now.”

“Please, Mr. Dwarf. We can’t stay here. They will kill us.”

“Methinks they will try and kill you if they see you with us, lassie. Not much changes, in or out.”

“We can stay out of any fights. And try to run away.”

“What do you think, elf?”

“I don’t know. When we start fighting the orcs, they might send someone to kill the prisoners. If they are with us, they might be a target for the orcs then, too.” He shrugged and looked away.

“We should let them out. Fighters or not, they can try and stay back. Or hide. We could even show them where the shaman’s lair is and let them hide there.”

“Please. Don’t leave us here. Anywhere but here.”

“Not leave.” Malark started chopping on the thick logs. He took heavy, two-handed swings muscles straining with the effort. Each time the blade hit it bit deep and tore large chunks of wood free. He tore through one of the logs the chain was wrapped around. When it split, he pushed the broken log, separating the parts so the chain slipped free. He pulled the gate open. “Not leave for greenskins.”

“Thank you, thank you, kind sir!” Courana rushed out and hugged Malark. He looked uncomfortable, and patted her on the head before wiggling free.

“It’s decided now. You can’t stay here.” 

“Take them to the shaman’s lair, Mr. Jarek. Let them hide there for now. After we, um, ‘get rid of’ the other orcs, we can go get them.”

“Maybe. Maybe that be the best place.”

Lia was chewing her lip, thinking hard. “What about round the staircase? Just past that barricade? Seems none of the orcs want to go there.”

“Even with the barricade down?”

“Will they even notice? If one of them goes to fetch the shaman, they will use the secret passage, won’t they?”

“Aye lassie, they will. The gits seem to be afraid of the stirges or the trogs down in the Glitterhame. They dinnae go there. Come on you two, I’ll take you.”

Jarek and the two scared villagers headed across the cave and down the rough tunnel they had come from. The dwarf was gone less than ten minutes, striding back into the cave with purpose.

“Had them rebuild the barricade, best t’ey kin. Took some of the food from the other cave, too. Seem a hungry pair. Did you lot find anything else?”

“Closed doors down there,” Seraphina pointed. “And that tunnel goes back to the other cave.”

“I felt a draft when I was in the kitchen-cave. Were the doors seal’t tight?”

“No, Mr. Jarek. There is a gap ‘round the bottom.”

“They lead to the Mountain Door, sure as sure.” Jarek headed towards the doors. “Been mor’n a day since we tried the front door. They shouldn’t still be waitin’ fer us to come through.”

“Will there be guards at all?”

“Likely. When we showed up, they was on guard. In an’ out. Likely they still are. Ready? Let’s take them!”

Jarek had his hand on the door and Malark was next to him, axe and shield in hand.

Adran nodded once, drawing an arrow. Seraphina sheathed her swords, readying her bow. Lia had a bolt laying ready on her crossbow.

“For Moradin!” Jarek yanked the door open and charged through. Malark was close on his heels and the others hustled to keep up. Pouring through the double doors, they found themselves in an irregular cavern that stretched away from them. Close by were a pair of thick pillars supporting the ceiling. A dozen or more javelins were leaned up against each pillar. Between the pillars was a pair of orcs hunched over and looking at something on the ground.

“Caught ‘em rollin’ bones!” Jarek was loud and cheerful at the prospect of combat. “One fer me, one fer you, ye big lout!”

Jarek swung his hammer in an uppercut, the head connecting with his foe, sending the hunched orc tumbling backwards, sprawled out. Malark was growling, grinning a feral smile. He buried his axe in the other orc, driving his knee into the orc’s face. The knee strike snapped the orc’s head back causing it to grunt in pain.

The sprawled orc scrambled to his feet and fled, using a rickety rope bridge to cross a wide chasm of infinite darkness. The bridge swung and swayed as the orc struggled to maintain his footing on the narrow boards. Adran was the first to react, launching an arrow across the open space and hitting the fleeing orc in the back. Lia raised and fired her crossbow in a fast, smooth motion. The stubby bolt soared after the orc, catching it low in the back and causing it to stumble. The orc scrambled for footing, desperately gripping the frayed ropes. Wounded and weak, the orc held on for only a moment before plunging into the darkness, a scream of terror lasting far too long.

Malark dodged a clumsy attack from his foe, then hit the orc with a smashing axe strike that crushed the life from the beast.

Before they could enjoy the victory, a pair of orcs across the chasm started a volley of arrow fire. Burning braziers brightly lit the ledge they stood on, and behind the orcs, a pair of massive stone doors. One of the doors stood ajar and a massive beam leaned against the wall.

“The Mountain Door!” Jarek sped towards the rope bridge, slowing as its apparently poor condition came into view.

Seraphina returned the arrow fire from the distant orcs, hitting one. Jarek inspected the bridge, gingerly setting foot on it. An arrow narrowly missed him and he hurled insults at the orcs, trying to bait them into a melee fight. Adran fired another arrow, hitting his target in the eye, crumpling the orc into a rough pile. The dead orc’s companion fired once more, then fled through a door in the wall, closing it behind itself.

Without the danger of flying arrows, Jarek hustled across the bridge. Once or twice he stumbled on the swaying construction, each time catching himself before he tripped. On the other side, he rushed to the doorway and pushed the open door shut. Dropping his hammer, he hefted the huge beam and dropped it into place, locking the Mountain Door.

“That’ll keep any guards out on the trail from coming in. Now where did that sneaky git run off to?” He moved over to a seemingly bare wall and began running his hand over the worked surface.

Malark gingerly moved across the bridge, his weight sagging the rickety structure. He looked terrified, boards and ropes creaking with every step. Once across, he dropped to his knees gasping in relief.

“Can’t leave them over there.” Adran frowned and stepped onto the bridge. He moved swiftly, light steps on the aged boards, He joined Jarek and Malark on the brazier-lit ledge, turning to watch the others. “It is more sound than it looks. Light steps, stay balanced.”

Lia and Seraphina crossed over, one at a time. By the time they were across Jarek had found the hidden door the orc fled through.

“Found it. Might lead to the arrow nest overlooking the ledge.” He turned and looked across the ledge to the far wall. “Should be another door there. There were arrow slits in that wall, too.” He stomped across the ledge and began studying the wall. “Probably means a couple orcs are holed up in there. Gotta be smart. If I remember right, and I do, there was only a single arrow loop this side of the entrance stairs. This nest will be smaller. Other side,” he pointed with his hammer, “where the sneaky git ran off to, that’s gonna be larger. Might be an archer barracks. This side first.”

“Those other orcs will be ready if we give them time.”

“Dem gits have already had enough time, elf, one minute warning is all t’ey need.”

Adran shrugged, but didn’t argue.

“How big is this area? Honestly, Jarek, how many orcs could be living here?”

“I dint know really. This place wasn’t big. Durgeddin’s clan was small. They nae woulda dug mor’ then they needed.”

“If the passage is narrow, it will be a one-on-one fight.”

“Aye, Adran, t’will be. Unless you come after me with that nice elven bow ye got. Ye kin shoot over me head while I protect ya, or fight the orcs. I think the little miss might be able to squeeze by ya, and get some shots of her own. I kin keep the orcs at bay, ye kin pick them off with arrows. What say ye?”

“He makes sense, Mr. Adran. If the tunnel is narrow, we can’t all get in the fight. Us or any orcs in there.”

Jarek pointed at the far wall, “and to keep all of us safe, the witch and the big man kin keep an eye on that door, case the orcs over yonder come back. I’ll borrow his shield, that will help in the tunnel.”

Lia shook her head, but kept her tongue after Jarek’s ‘witch’ comment. Malark handed over his shield and he joined Lia.

“I cannot fault the plan. There shouldn’t be many orcs in this archer’s nest. Clear this side, then head after the others. They will be waiting.” Adran was watching Jarek closely.

“Let ‘em wait.

“Open the door.”

Jarek pushed on a section of the wall, causing it to rebound and open. He looked back and nodded to Adran and Seraphina. Both had arrows nocked and ready. The dwarf pulled hard on the door, creating a narrow gap and slipped through. Adran raised his bow, aiming over the shorter dwarf. Seraphina waited until they were both through the door, the slipped after them. Leaving Lia and Malark alone on the ledge.

“Watch that wall, big guy. The orcs might come screaming out.” Lia had reloaded her crossbow and was staring at the far wall. “Might come from that way, too,” she added after glancing at the bridge. “What a fantastic place to have a fight.”

“Cut bridge?”

“I wish. That would keep the others across on their own side. I don’t thing we can, though. It might be the only way into the rest of the hold.”

Malark stepped to the edge and looked over, into the darkness. “Deep hole.”

“Very deep. Did you hear that orc scream? It fell for a long, long time.”

They could hear the rush of distant water, far down in the darkness. A cool breeze flowed up from the depths carrying the scent of wet and rot.

“You can get away from the edge. Please.” Lia was glancing at Malark, but not really looking at him. “Far from the edge.”

He finally stepped away, moving closer to Lia. He was holding several javelins and had more stuffed into long quiver.

“Took their weapons. Nice.”

“Kill greenskins with greenskin javelins.

Lia smiled and was rewarded with Malark’s weird scowl-smile. She laughed and shook her head, “you need to work on your smile. It’s kinda freaky, you know that, right?”

“Freaky?”

“Scary. Weird. Not really a smile.”

Malark shrugged. He hefted a javelin, testing its balance.

‘Guess not.” Lia murmured and started watching the hidden door again.

In the arrow nest tunnel, Jarek held the shield up, blocking most of his body. Adran was close behind him, an arrow protruding over Jarek’s shoulder. Seraphina was so small she could fit in the space between Adran and Jarek, peering along the edge of the shield. The tunnel was short, maybe fifteen feet long before turning to the right. They could hear at least a pair of voices talking softly around the corner.

Jarek moved up to the edge, glancing back and whispering, “Ready?”

At a nod from the others, he moved swiftly around the corner. The passage stretched away from them, lit by the light from an arrow slit in one wall. The light spilled over a trio of orcs atop a short set of stairs. They were face to face and turned to look at the sudden intrusion. Adran let an arrow fly as soon as he cleared the corner. Seraphina waited a few seconds more, the drop of the stairs partially concealing the orcs from her. Jarek moved closer, letting the shield take one arrow after another as the orcs reacted. At the top of the steps, Seraphina was able to see clearly and began sending arrows flying down the narrow passage. With nowhere to hide, the orcs were quickly pin-cushioned by the elf and halfling arches. They pushed pass Jarek and searched the bodies, recovering their arrows and a few coins. There was a stash of orcish arrows in the nest and Adran filled his quiver. Seraphina searched through the arrows and found a few shorter arrows she thought she might be able to use.

“Where are some goblin archers when you need them? Their arrows almost always are short enough for me.”

She counted arrows in her quiver and looked up at Adran. “Getting low. I won’t be much use with a bow by the time we leave.”

“You are just as deadly with your blades, lassie, so nay be sad. You kin fight still.” Jarek searched all along the end of the archer’s nest. Hands on rock. “I dinnae think there is a door here. Back out?”

“Back out. They whole place should know we are here by now.” Adran was peering through the arrow slit in the rock. “I can see the main stairs, and another slit across the way. Hold on.” He swiftly drew an arrow and aimed through the slit. Releasing, he drew another arrow and released. “Hit the orc over there at least once.” He smiled grimly. “A good shot, even for me.”

They filed back onto the ledge by the main doors, rejoining Lia and Malark. The big man went to take his shield back when Jarek put his hand up.

Might be another narrow passage. We kin try the same trick. Me in front with this,” he held up the shield, “the two arches ‘hind me killin’ orcs as we go. You two kin follow us this time.” He nodded to Malark and Lia. “There were more arrow loops this side, probably gonna be a longer passage, or a barracks even.”

“They will be ready.” Seraphina was chewing her lip, looking at the concealed door.

“Ay, lassie, they will be. And so are we. You an’ the elf keep the arrows flying, and I’ll be protectin’ ya both.”

“Only way is forward.” Adran sighed and drew an arrow.

Jarek hefted the shield and approached the door. “Ginnae see how ready these weedy gits are.” He traced the edge of the door, picking out the faint edge none of the others could see. He pushed a tiny bulge of rock, causing the door to click open. “Ready?” He pulled the door open, crouching behind the large shield.

They all waited, muscles tense, for missile fire to rain down on Jarek. No shouted curses. No arrows. Nothing but silence.

“Did they just flee?” Seraphina whispered, peeking around Jarek.

“Doubtful, lassie. Nay, they be hidin’ further on. Waiting for us to make a mistake. There will be stairs, like ‘en the other side. Be waitin’ beyond the stairs, they will.”

Jarek moved slowly, letting the others keep up. The tunnel made a hard left and climbed a short set of stairs.

“Told ye,” Jarek murmured. He took the steps one-by-one. Adran was just behind him, an arrow nocked and ready. Seraphina was between the two, using her small stature to best advantage. Malark pushed Lia forward, putting her between the others and his huge frame.

“Protect you,” he whisper-shouted.

Lia shook her head, her long hair flipping back and forth. Her shoulders shook as she stifled a laugh.

The instant they crested the stairs, arrows started flying. Some shots peppered the shield, others bounced off the walls, or skipped of the flagstones. Seraphina narrowly dodged on they sparked off the tunnel wall and sailed past her. She and Adran returned fire the best they could. These orcs were canny, shooting around corners and ducking back to reload. The had a large, square room to hide in. Across the chamber was a tunnel, and closer to the stairs was an alcove. Arrow loops were carved in several places, all dwarf-height.

Jarek stopped and backed up when an orc to his right hit him with an arrow.

“Moradin’s hairy arse… Jarek ye orcwit…” He grunted in pain, reaching to yank the arrow free. “Shootin’ from three places, they are.”

“We can’t stay here!” Adran raised up and fired off another arrow. “They could surround us!”

“I cannae block from all sides, elf!”

Lia slipped up and hurled one of the glass vials she took from the dead shaman. Plucking out the other, she hurled that one, also. Both shattered on the stone floor, spreading fire and smoke.

“Go, dwarf! Go!” She shouted. “While they are distracted!”

Jarek plowed forward, waiting for another arrow from the archer to their right. Lia turned the corner and shot the hidden orc with her crossbow, then drew her dagger and charged. Malark pushed past the others. Leaping over the flames, looking for something to fight. A pair of arrows shot from the tunnel across the chamber. One skipped off his shoulder, leaving a slight cut, the other solidly hitting him in the chest. Roaring, Malark charged after his assailants. Jarek pushed towards the alcove, forcing the orcs to hide from Adran and Seraphina. Rounding the corner, they both quickly dispatched the hidden orcs with a pair of arrows each. Jarek dropped the shield and charge to Lia’s aid. She was wrestling with the orc, hands on its sheathed blade, trying to keep it from drawing its weapon. Jarek howled a litany of curses and smashed the orc in the face with a brutal punch.

“I got this one, lassie. Ol’ Jarek has somethin’ for these Beldarakin noror!” Swinging his hammer, Jarek pummeled the orc, breaking bones and crushing the life out of it. “Be after the big man!” He called out as he dealt death.

Lia chased after Malark, igniting flames in her hands. She found him in a small chamber at the end of a hall. A door that seemed a part of the wall stood partially open, like someone had been in a hurry to flee.

“Did one get away?” She crept up to the door, listening carefully.

Malark shrugged. “Not know. Killed two.”

Lia looked back up the hall, then through the narrow gap. One of the orcs lay dead near the larger archer’s post. The other was nearly to this smaller room with the concealed door. “Looks like they were fleeing. I can’t see much of what lies beyond. A tunnel maybe.”

The others joined them after a few minutes.

“I got one more out on the ledge. There were two, but the other took off, around that turn we hid behind.” Seraphina was matter-of-fact, not taking joy in dealing death, even to orcs.

“They didn’t expect to be fired on from inside the hold.”

“They did not. Lia, what are you looking at?”

“A concealed door. If it was closed, I would not have noticed it. The orcs are helpfully careless.”

“First rule of manning a fortress. Keep the doors closed and locked.” Jarek examined the door and the surrounding wall.

“Even in times of peace?” Adran watched Jarek, his eyes following the dwarf’s nimble fingers.

“Especially in times of peace, elf. Your enemies expect you to get careless when your guard is down. We dwarves have learned our lessons. There is no peace anymore.”

Adran’s shoulders slumped. Despite his abilities at dealing death, he was not a fan of conflict. The dwarven way of war was not his way. “Surely there can be lasting peace?”

“Nay, laddie.” Jarek turned and fixed his gaze on Adran. “Not unless all the greenskins in the world took their last breath, and all the things in the Deep joined them in death. Even then, there would still be dragons and all the threats of the wild.”

Lia arched her eyebrows, eyes to the ceiling, as she shook her head. Finally looking at Jarek she asked, “Through the door?”

“Seems we have to. Both archer posts are clear, and I cut the bridge.”

“You what?” Lia’s voice pitched up. “The big guy asked me if he could cut the bridge, and I didn’t let him. Then you went and did it anyway. What if that is the only way across that chasm?”

“T’won’t be, lassie.”

“How do you know?”

“No dwarven fast would have a single path to the front gate. We always provide a back way to reinforce the gate.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

“Every dwarven hold?”

“Aye’ lassie, always. Second rule of defending a hold. Don’t lose access to the gate.”

Adran shook his head. Lia rolled her eyes and loaded her crossbow, not looking at Jarek. Malark was watching them talk, keeping out of it. Seraphina nodded.

“Makes sense, Mr. Jarek. What if the bridge had to be cut and there was no time to rebuild it? Wouldn’t you want to be able to flee if you needed to?”

Jarek stifled a laugh, his eye to the narrow crack. “Flee? No, lassie. Not to flee, to attack from behind the invaders!”

“Well, that too!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Her wrist was bound in a leather brace carefully carved with intricate designs and mounting silver hardware.

“Moradin’s hammer! Is that a…?” Jarek gushed. “Kin I take a look at yer bracer?”

Seraphina shrugged and started to take it off. “You never noticed them before?”

“Nay, I dint. Keep it on. Just…” He took her forearm carefully and inspected it closely, his nose almost touching the leather. “It is. It truly is. You have a fine pair of bracers, lassie. Fine indeed. Magic, they are. Did ye know that?”

“I guess?”

“You guess?” He snickered. “These are examples of the finest artisans in the world. Yer bracers are elven-made, methinks. We dwarves make a fair few ourselves. Ye ne’er noticed how ye kin shooting better while wearin’ ‘em?”

“I guess. I mean, yes. It’s just been so long I have had them, that I never really think about them. My Auntie Zennys gave them to me years ago. Said they were special. They are pretty, so I wear them all the time.”

“Pretty they are, and potent. Gives ye an edge, lassie.” He patted the bracer softly and let go. “A fine piece of craftsmanship. Even for an elf.” He winked at Serphina and turned back to the door. “Now, lets see where this goes.”

“Malark thinks one orc got away. Slipped through this door.” Lia had her hand on the door to keep Jarek from throwing it open.

“So?”

“So, we should be cautious.”

“Aye, lassie. We kin be cautious.”

She let go of the door, and Jarek pulled it open a little more, peering through the gap.

“A tunnel. And steps down, I think.” He pushed it open even more, and stepped into the narrow tunnel. “Aye, there are steps. And another door. I kin see light.”

“No way they are not waiting.” Adran was pacing.

“If one of them fled through, they are probably arousing the rest of the hold. All the other orcs.”

“Hopefully.” Jarek let his hammer smack into his palm.

“We still have no idea how many orcs are holed up here!” Adran was stern, staring at Jarek. “So far, we have gotten lucky, we have faced them in small groups. If they gather in strength, we won’t be so lucky.”

“Which is why we cannae waste time discussing it. Keep the pressure on them, so they kint gather.” Jarek turned and stomped down the stairs. “Stay if ye want, Elf, this dwarf is killin’ orcs t’day.”

Light flooded the narrow passage when Jarek flung open another door.

“Come on ye ruddy orcs! Come and meet yer doom ye Beldarakin! Come and die!”

“We can’t leave him!” Seraphina was pleading.

Malark pushed through their group, chasing after the dwarf, laughing his crazy laugh, and howling in battle-lust.

“Great. Now they are both fired up. We better get after them.” Lia shook her head, hefting her crossbow in one hand and throwing her other hand out, flames lighting over her palm and fingers. She ran after Malark, leaping down the stairs.

Seraphina looked up at Adran. “I’m going. Stay if you want, we can’t abandon him. Even if he is a bit of a crazy.”

“A bit? That dwarf has a death wish.”

Seraphina shrugged and turned to run after the others. She hopped down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Adran sighed, then pulled an arrow from his quiver and ran after the others.

The Four- Chapter 19: Upwards, The Dark Beckons

Seraphina and Malark returned after a bit. The little halfling held the big man’s torch while he lugged a chest.

“Coins. A fair few!” Seraphina was smiling big. “And this!” She held out a large glittering stone. It shone a deep red in her hand, the flame-light sparkling off its facets.

Jarek took the stone, holding it up to study it. “A ruby, and well-cut. ‘Tis a nice find young miss!” Handing it back to her, he dropped his pack and rummaged inside. In a moment he pulled out several smaller sacks. Handing them to the others, he nodded at the chest. “Methinks we should split those coins and save the big guy the trouble of lugging that chest all over. ‘Sides, he is a good ‘un in fight. Dint want him strugglin’ with a heavy chest”

Malark set the chest down and flipped the lid open. Torch-light flickered over hundreds of silver coins. Each of them gasped at the sight. Coins a plenty for food and ale and warm beds. Now they just had to get it home. They set to task, pouring handfuls of coins into the sacks, and stashing them into packs. Before packs were overfull, they filled more sacks.

“Must be well over a thousand coins here!” Jarek was smiling gain as he filled sack after sack. “Dinnae know how we can fight so loaded down.”

“I know, Mr. Jarek! The tombs. We can stash the coins in one of the tombs. No one down here is ever going there, so they won’t disturb our coins.”

“And the Seldarine know this lot,” Adran motioned to the dead around them, “won’t be searching for their stolen treasure.”

“Stolen.” Jarek snorted. “Fair pay for a fair fight. Not a one of us is fully well. Poor lassie there,” he nodded towards Seraphina, “smells like burnt leather. And this dwarf? My clothes are ruined and I smell like a ruddy dead ox. Poisons and flames and blood and grime. Nay, laddie, we dinnae steal anything. The lassie is right, though. We kin stash the silver there and come back after we explore the rest of the caves.”

It took the party close to an hour. They hauled the coins first across two caves to where the stream passed through living rock. Getting soaked again in the stream, they carried the coins from one cave to the next. The final leg was into the Glitterhame and the stashing them in one of the unused tombs. When they were done, they spent some time resting, eating from the increasingly sparse supplies. There was wood left from the night before and a small fire cackled and sparked, taking the chill from the dark.

“Seems it is time to go up.” Seraphina was gnawing on a hardtack biscuit. “Find the orcs, then find the forge.”

“Aye, lassie. ‘Tis time.”

“Kill greenskins?” Malark was covered in small cuts and bruises. Yet he perked up when he heard the word ‘orc’.

“I don’t see how we won’t.” Seraphina giggled. “You and orc-slaying. You make me laugh.”

“Orcs bad. Kill them all.”

“See?” Jarek looked at Adran. “The big guy gets it. ‘Tis the only way.”

“Asking a man raised by wolves and taught by dwarves if orcs are bad is no stretch.” Adran shook his head, but a slight smile touched his face for a moment.

“Something funny, elf?” Jarek was staring.

“No, Jarek. Nothing funny. Just the idea of discussing if orcs are bad with an orc-hater seems a bit…”

“Silly?” Seraphina was giggling again. “Like asking a hin if food is worth stockpiling?”

“Or asking Lia if she likes fire?”

“Hey! Don’t drag me into your discussion! Well, I do like fire.” She laughed and flicked little flames off her fingertips.

“Or askin’ a dwarf if he likes ale and mead?”

“Exactly. There is no room for discussion or debate.”

“Well,” Jarek had his pipe out and was packing the bowl, “Some things are just true. T’ need for discussion is a long time gone.”

“Still a bit silly to wonder then, no?” Seraphina was biting her lip and shaking her head, stifling another laugh.

“Nay, lassie, some folk need reminders.” Jarek lit his pipe and took a long pull. “Orcs will always be bad. Less their own god is struck down and for some reasons they take to worshippin’ some other gods.”

“Not likely.” Lia was up and stretching. She picked up her crossbow and patted her quiver. “Also unlikely we will leave this cold and damp without killing at least one orc, so I say we head up.” She headed out of the cave and they could hear her splash through the stream just out of sight. Malark hopped up and chased after her, ever eager to fight. The others gathered their weapons and gear and followed soon after. They caught up to the pair as they inspected a set of rough-hewn steps climbing along one wall of the cave. The ceiling was lost in darkness far above, and the stairs disappeared into a black void.

“Up to the Door.” Jarek was the first to go, stepping onto the stairs and beginning to quickly climb.

The others followed close behind, the narrow shelf forcing them into a single file line. Some ways up they crossed another narrow stream cutting into the rock. Lia inspected the stream and looked down the narrow cleft it followed. A curious buzzing could be heard from somewhere in the distance.

“Up or along that way?” she indicated with a nod.

“Stream is tumbling down. Probably curves back on itself down below. Same one we splashed through before the stairs.” Jarek replied without looking back. No one offered another option so they continued up.

The cleft the stairs followed gradually became wider until the shallow steps were a broad stair climbing into a large chamber. Malark’s torch cast flickering light that caused the walls to dance in and out of shadow. It took a moment to realize the walls were covered in monumental carvings of dwarf forge-workers in various scenes. The ceiling soared above them into a vaulted arch. Reaching the top of the stair, they saw a pair of doors at either end of the rectangular chamber. A ledge circled the natural opening the stairs descended through to the Glitterhame below. Near the north door several skeletons lay scattered on the floor. Jarek pointed to the doors and smiled at Seraphina, mouthing the words ‘north’.  The curious buzzing could be heard here as well, slightly louder.

Inspecting the skeletons, Lia knelt near one and picked up an axe head. It was rust-covered and bore no remains of whatever haft it once had. Rusted armor pieces lay around the skeleton, any connecting straps long gone. Picking up the tusked skull, she cocked her head in concentration, long hair falling around her face.

Jarek had moved towards a set of iron bars blocking exit from the chamber. Adran was inspecting some of the carvings near the north wall. Malark had kicked one of the skulls and was moving towards the large north doors. Seraphina stood close to Lia, scanning the wall, then looking up. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to warn the others. Before she could, Lia hopped up, tossing the axe head and skull aside.

“Malark! Stay back! The doors!” Her warning was lost in a flutter of leathery wings.

Seraphina finished hers, “Creatures!” With a shwwick her blades were out and up.

The others reacted more slowly, the buzzing and flapping causing them to look around before looking up.

Adran drew and fired an arrow, catching one clean, sending it into a tumble. The others fluttered and soared, flying around the chamber. Lia sent a bolt of flame into the air, missing her target. Malark batted at one that fluttered around him. Seraphina sliced one apart, but in attacking one, another clung to her back. She screamed when it plunged a thin probiscis into her skin. She turned and slapped at it, trying to brush it off. Jarek set his hammer aside and grabbed at the diminutive halfling, hands grasping as she turned and shook.

“Hold still, lassie!” he tried grabbing her to stop her wild turns.

With the beasts fluttering around the rest, Adran couldn’t take a shot with his bow and slung it, drawing a slender dagger. Malark continued to swing torch and axe in wild, wide arcs, batting at the little creatures. Lia, seeing the dagger in Adran’s hand, drew one of her own. She poked and stabbed, trying to catch the little flying terrors.

Jarek finally grasped Seraphina with one hand, the other plucking the little biting creature from her back. The beak-like probiscis tore free causing blood to run freely. Seraphina’s hand went to her neck, fingers pressing into the bleeding wound. Jarek slammed the creature to the floor, stunning it before he stomped the life out of it.

Lia speared one of the flitting creatures, then Malark batted the other from the air. Adran stomped on it as it flopped on the chamber floor.

Searching the chamber ceiling, they looked for more. Seeing none, Jarek took Seraphina’s hand from the wound and touched two fingers while murmuring softly. His fingers glowed for a moment and when he removed them her wound was gone, the blood flow stopped.

Nodding her thanks, she rubbed her neck. “I think it was drinking my blood.” She made a face, wrinkling her nose.

“It was, lassie. Nasty little stirges love to drink blood. Like some sort of demented vampire birds.”

Lia stood in front of the north doors, facing the others. “I think these doors are trapped.”

“Do you, elf maiden?” Jarek picked up his hammer and strode forward. His eyes roved over the doors and the carvings around them. “How do ye know?”

“Those skeletons. They show signs of severe fire damage. Axe haft is gone. Armor is rusted despite this cave being quite dry. Leather burned away.”

Jarek looked back at one of the skeletons. He harrumphed a reply, then began inspecting the doors more closely. “Ye might be right. See? Those tiny holes? They are blackened and scorched.” He began inspecting the floor. “I nay see anything here. Must be the doors themselves.”

“That isn’t the only way out, we can leave it for later.” Adran was inspecting the iron bars. “This passage looks…” The bars had straw bundles and bundles of cloth jammed between the bars forming a barricade of sorts. “This is strange. It’s like…”

“Like someone didn’t want what is in here to get through?” Lia had wandered over to inspect the make-shift barricade.

“Yes, that did cross my mind.”

“Probably trying to keep these nasty stirges out.” Seraphina was frowning, still rubbing her neck. “I bet even orcs don’t like having their blood sucked out.”

“We’ve nay seen any real threat to an orc band, either. Orcs and trogs fight because they often inhabit the same places. These two tribes have separate levels to call home. I think the wee lassie is right.” Jarek shoved on some of the stuff blocking the bars. “Help me move some stuff, let’s see the other side.”

The whole party pushed and pulled, tearing the barricade apart. The bars were old, and rusted. Heavy rust encrusted the hinges and lock. Malark didn’t care. He strained and pulled, iron bars bending and distorting until the door flexed enough it opened despite the lock. The hinges screeched in protest, a piercing, grating sound. He forced the gate open enough for them to fit through. One by one they passed through the gap into a short tunnel that ended in another barricade. This one was made of boxes and crates wedged in place. They began to pull it apart as well, Carefully moving the barricade until there was space to pass through.

Once through the barricade they found themselves in a cave full of crates, sacks, bundles and barrels. Much of the area was crammed full of normal goods of all sorts. Ales in barrels and kegs. Cloth on wrapped bundles. Rope and chain coils. Sacks with smoked hams and sausages.

“Tis their plunder store.” Jarek was rifling through sacks in one of the piles. “These weedy gits steal anything they can.”

“They’ve been busy. This is more than a village worth of plunder. And we haven’t seen a village for days.”

“Aye, ‘tween Ironheim and this place there nay is much. North and west are a scattering of villages and hamlets.”

“Many folk are missing so much.” Seraphina held up some tinware plates and cups. “It we had a couple wagons we could outfit a shop with all of this.”

“But we don’t. We kin let me kinfolk know there are some supplies here. All this will get used eventually.”

They all searched through the piles, looking for anything of value. Jarek concentrated on the cave walls, looking for hidden passages or other interesting features. He whistled after a while, pulling a loose stone out and setting it aside. Reaching inside, he pulled a bulging sack out. Setting at his feet he reached in again, feeling around until he found a metal container etched with Torm’s sign, the upheld gauntlet.  He held up, studying the small flask. “Holy water?” he mused. He shrugged and tucked the flask into a pouch. He knelt and opened the large sack, revealing a horde of golden coins. He whistled again. “This is a stash!” He showed the others before tying the sack shut and stashing it in his pack.

The storage cave had three exits besides the barricaded passage they had come from. To the north was a worked stone passage the headed east and west. To the west was a narrow tunnel. A wider opening in the south was partially concealed by one of the piles of looted goods. Malark was poking around that pile when he headed through the narrow space. Seraphina sighed and ran after him, calling back to the others.

“The big guy is wandering!”

The others quickly followed, finding themselves in a narrow passageway the was vaguely Y-shaped. The arms of the shape went southeast or southeast and Malark was already going east. They didn’t go far, forced to single file by the narrowness of the passage. It seemed to a be a natural passage with tool marks here and there marking where occupants had widened the narrowest parts. Malark stopped at a wall covered in crude drawings and glyphs.

“Your mother shaves her beard?” Jarek spat and growled. “Legless dwarves are the best stunties.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Jarek?” Seraphina couldn’t see much around the others.

“Some fool orc has scribbled all over the rock. Hex glyphs and curses in their foul tongue.” He pushed past Malark and put his hand to the rock, fingers deftly probing and pulling. He was murmuring to himself. After a couple moments of searching, he turned back with a grin. “Seems these nasty orcs didn’t want anyone to come through here. Pulling with his fingertips, a portion of the rock pulled away, revealing a passage beyond of carefully carved stone. Letting the others squeeze past, Jarek pulled the door shut behind them.

“No sense advertisin’ our passage, eh?” He smiled and pushed past the others

The passage zig zagged and ended at another wall. This time, the door was clearly visible in the flickering torchlight.

“Secrets revealed.” Jarek murmured before turning to the others. “Might be a fight yon these doors.” Determined looks returned his grim gaze. Adran nodded for them all, and Jarek pushed hard on the door.

Rushing through, they found themselves in a smoke-filled chamber. The walls were of worked stone, and a double door stood on one wall. A dozen or more yellowed skulls hung from frayed ropes attached to spikes hammered into the ceiling. Crude furnishings and rough sleep pallets filled the space. Candles flickered from everywhere, melted waxed puddled on tables, crates, rock and floor. An ancient orc in a dingy black robe, the hood up and concealing the wear’s face, was hunched over a table muttering and scratching when the party charged in. A trio of female orcs were surrounding the robed orc and moved to attack at a command from their leader.

Wielding wickedly serrated short swords, the trio challenged the party with snarls and feints. The robed figure waved a hand and muttered, pointing at Jarek. His eyes glazed and he dropped his hammer. Adran’s eyes widened and he hurled a dagger at the robed figure. The three orcs were fanatical, unafraid of the well-armed party. They used the cluttered room to their advantage, keeping the crude furnishings between them and the others, reaching to swipe at the party from behind cover. Adran sheathed his sword and slipped his bow over his head, grasping at his quiver. Lia fired a bolt from her crossbow, narrowly missing one of the female orcs. Malark kicked a small crate covered in candles over, trying to get at the defending orcs. He parried a sword stroke and made a quick strike the only clove air. Seraphina’s blades clattered and rang, smashing aside defensive strokes from one of the orcs and dealing a glancing blow.

The robed one pulled their hood back, revealing a crazed orc with brilliantly dyed tribal markings across their face. Continuing to mutter and make symbols with their hands, the orc grabbed a glass flask full of some black liquid from a pile of objects. The three sword-wielders began to fight with a renewed fury. Stabs and slashes found their mark, wounding Malark, Seraphina and Jarek. The wound to Jarek awoke him from a stupor, he absently looked at his hands. Then to his hammer lying on the stone floor. Growling an oath of vengeance, he smashed his fist into the face of the closest orc.

Adran let an arrow fly, narrowly missing Malark and wounding the robed orc. Seraphina dueled with her opponent, blades clanging as they both fought for advantage. Lia sent another mote of flame towards the robed orc, missing the chanting creature. Malark leapt over a pile of objects, crashing into one of the orcs and wrestling them to the ground in a flurry of punches and knee strikes. Roaring, Malark bit deep on the creature’s throat, teeth tearing flesh.

The robed figure hurled the flask, smashing it against Adran. A black, tarry liquid stuck to the elf and ignited. Adran dropped his bow and began slapping at the flames, grimacing in pain. Muttering and chanting, the robed orc made another sign. Slashing the air with its hand, a glowing, spectral spear appeared and struck at Jarek, catching and wounding the angry dwarf. He grasped at the ghostly weapon, attempting to push it away, hands touching nothing.

Malark was holding the wrist of his opponent, keeping the rusty serrated blade away. He head-butted the orc, breaking its nose and causing a gush of blood. Seraphina continued her duel with her foe, blades clattering and sparking. Knocking the orc’s blade aside with one stroke, she stabbed deep with her other blade. She used the force of the thrust to push the orc back and tripped her over a low table. As they fell Seraphina drew her free blade in a vicious slash across the orc’s throat. A gout of blood flowed freely, ending the orc’s life. Crashing down on the lifeless creature, Seraphina rolled towards the robed orc, blades up and threatening the creature.

Adran finally beat the flames out, hands blistered and red. He was gasping in pain and sank to a knee. Lia watched the robed figure pick another flask up, and charged across the room to grapple for the weapon. Jarek was backstepping away from spectral spear, trying to get close to his hammer. The spear slashed and poked keeping the dwarf on the defensive.

Adran chanted, bowing his head and making small symbols. The burns and blisters on his skin began to heal and he staggered back to his feet. Seraphina moved close to where Lia was grappling with the robed orc. Igniting a ball of flames in her hand, Lia distracted the orc and Seraphina stabbed her twin blades deep, tips protruding from its chest. Groaning, the creature’s legs went weak and it collapsed. The spectral spear winked out in the moment the orc died.

The two remaining orcs showed no signs of attempting to flee, instead they redoubled their attacks. The one beneath Malark tried to gore him with her tusks. Malark threw himself aside, barely missing the slashing teeth. Rolling over, it slashed at Malark with a clumsy sword stroke. With Malark rolling free, Adran was free to bury an arrow in the creature’s shoulder.

Jarek finally recovered his hammer and charged the other orc, swinging a crushing blow.  Striking true, the blunt metal weapon crushed the orc’s face killing it in an instant.

Malark blocked a flurry of blows from the wounded orc. His axe deflected each strike, but the effort kept him from being able to strike back. With the other orcs dead, though, his fellows could aid him now. To her credit, the orc never wavered, fighting to the death. Surrounding the creature, they cut it down.

Exhausted from their third fight in a matter of hours, they all flopped to the ground when the battle was over. Sprawled out, the party took a moment to breathe. Rooting in packs or tugging them free from where they lay lodged, they pulled out waterskins and sipped at cool water.

“Those four were some tough blighters.” Jarek finally broke the silence.

“You got to kill some greenskins Malark. Happy now?”

“Kill one. Need to kill more.”

“I think there will be plenty. We’ve only seen in three rooms so far.”

“We need to rest a bit, I think. Seems like all of us are hurting.” Adran was sitting up now, appraising the others.

“I’m pretty spent.” Lia flicked little balls of flames off her fingertips. “Though I’ll always have a bit of fire.”

“Any of ye really hurtin’?” Jarek sat up. “I kin heal you right quick. Though I feel me power fadin’, too.”

“Tough fights. Plenty of foes.” Adran was looking at Jarek. Not looking, more like staring. Jarek saw his look and met it.

“An we found a fair bit ‘o coin. Been worth the fight. Not much longer. We’ll drive these orcs out yet.” He got up and shrugged his pack off. Digging in it, he produced a couple of metal spikes. Moving back to the door into this room he pushed it closed. Setting the spikes under the door, he tapped them in place with deft hammer blows. Finished with the secret door, he went to the main doors and repeated the procedure, setting two spikes per door.

“That oughta keep those doors shut. We kin relax for a bit.” He wandered around the small room before settling down, leaning against a wall. “Not fer too long, though. That thing,” he nodded towards the robed corpse, “is some sorta shaman. Don’t want to be here if the clan chief comes for a séance or some nonsense, but we need to rest a bit.”

“We need real sleep. Not these little breaks.”

“We cannae risk it. Without a strong, iron door tween us and them orcs, we cannae risk it. Take a quick break, laddie, and we kin be off.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I think he is right. This room has too many doors, and those big doors are only wood. If they want to, they could chop through them.”

“Plus, we could be trapped here. They must know about that passage. We gotta keep moving.”

They spent a restless hour, picking at rations and ignoring one another. Days without good sleep was starting to take a toll. Tempers were starting to shorten. Malark stoned his axe, honing the blade as best he could. Seraphina and Lia searched the mess for anything of value. They found two sacks of silver coins, and a pair of bottles like the one she had hurled at Adran. Lia claimed both bottles, and they split the load of coins between the five of them.

“If we aren’t going to sleep, we should probably go.” Adran was up, bow in hand.

Jarek was pulling his pack straps tight, and picked up his hammer. “Aye, laddie, we should.” He walked to the concealed door and knocked the wedges loose, picking them up and stashing them. “There were several passages off that main cave. Easiest to go back this way.”

He pushed the door open slowly, looking down the passage before fully opening the door. “Looks clear.”

Moving quietly down the narrow tunnel, they remerged in the narrow cave with the graffiti scrawled all over the rock. Jarek spit on the crude letters when he passed them. In the main cave they gathered in the middle, looking at their options.

Lia pointed as she listed their options; “Narrow one, narrow two, carved passage?”

“Which way in the carved tunnel?” Seraphina nodded. “Right or left?”

Jarek was the first to speak. “The narrow tunnel behind us. Dint want any orcs sneakin’ up on us.”

Adran turned back, heading towards the tunnel. “I smell smoke this way.”

“Aye, smoke and meat. Like a cookin’ fire.”

“Where there is fire…”

*Again, the art isn’t perfect. I’ve tried 3 AI generators now, and none do everything right or the way I want. I’m learning some tricks, but I am no there yet. Hope it adds to to the story, rather than detracting from it.