The Four- Chapter 22: Ebb and Flow

The others had stopped some thirty feet beyond the stairs. When Jarek caught up, they were looking into a familiar cavern. The passage continued beyond the cave opening, ending at a pair of doors barely visible in the darkness. Malark’s flickering torch cast light across stacks of crates, piled barrels, and sacks of all types spread across the cave.

“Have we been here before?” Adran ran his hands over a crate and walked into the cave. “I think this is close to where we found those two captives.”

“Ah! ‘tis th’ cave and tunnels!” Jarek hurried past Adran, across the open space to the far wall. He stooped to look close to the floor, then moved toward a partially hidden tunnel. He inspected another spot near the cavern floor, the stood and smiled. “No worries, Mr. Elf. ‘tis th’ plunder cave ag’in. We been here before.”

“How can you be sure? I admit, it looks familiar, but after three days down here, everything is starting to look the same.”

“I marked our way. Been markin’ since we came through tha’ nasty trog tunnel. No time to map, so I marked.”

“Marking? How?” Serphina was wandering through the cave, inspecting crates, and kicking the scattered sacks. “I haven’t notice you doing anything.”

“Ye dinnae notice? Well…” Jarek took a small object from a pocket on his vest. “I use chalk. Mark our passage with some runes of me own. Small and hidden-like. Come ‘ere. I’ll show ya.”

Seraphina walked over to Jarek and he knelt and pointed.

“See? There close t’ th’ floor? Tha’ little mark?”

Seraphina stooped over, looking carefully. “That tiny mark? The little squiggle?”

“I made tha’ mark. Gotta know where t’ look, or ye never see ‘em. An’ orcs are too stupid t’ care.”

“You are positive we have been here before?” Adran’s eyes were flinty.

“As positive I am that I am a dwarf, and you are a twit elf who never believes bearded ones.”

“Jarek!” Seraphina’s voice was louder than she meant.

“This whole venture, it is always him. I am tryin’, lassie, I really am. Don’t matter none. Th’ elf will never trust me.”

“He isn’t wrong.” Lia had taken a seat atop a large keg and was bouncing her feet off it, drumming lightly. “Anything he says, you counter it. Elves are better. Dwarves are dumb. The Seldarine can take Moradin. My sword is sharper than your hammer.”

“I do not.” Adran was frowning. Looking from Seraphina to Lia, and back. “And swords are sharper than hammers.”

“See?” Lia shook her head. “Still doing it.”

Malark had wandered across the cave opening to inspect a pair of doors, uninterested in the conversation of the others.

“Ye do, elf. Ye do. I tried to be better. Called ye by name, ‘stead o’ ‘elf’. Never mattered to you.”

Adran kept looking between the two women, hoping one would support him.

“Not getting any help from me. I am still just one step above the ‘beard ones’. Isn’t that what you called them, Jarek?” Lia snickered and tossed her hair, pulling some forward and starting to braid a tress.

“Ay, lassie, ‘tis. Why dint th’ elf like you?”

“He doesn’t think I am a real elf.”

Jarek looked perplexed. “How cannae nay be a real elf? Ye look like a’ elf.”

“Parentage.”

Jarek stood still, looking from Adran to Lia and back. “Beggin’ yer pardon, miss, yer parentage?”

“Since both my parents are not elves, I am not considered an elf by the rest of the Tel’Quessir. A half-blood. An accident. Since I take after my father in appearance, non-elves think I am an elf. Those outside the elven realms that know I am mixed blood, don’t care.” Lia shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Seems harsh. Not many tall folk seem t’ go for dwarven women, so the rare crosses are very much a curiosity, a’ never outcasts. At least in me time. Migh’ be some dwarven folk who wanna keep the blood-lines pure. Drunk talk, if ye ask me.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I am never going back, so their opinions don’t matter.”

Adran kept opening his mouth to say something, but the other two never looked at him, or paused.

“Seems sad. Dint ye wanna to see yer kin?”

“Only my father, and he is gone, so…”

“Oh, lassie, I dinnae know…”

“Not your fault. It was a long time ago. We better go stop Malark from wandering off. I don’t think he is done killing greenskins.” Lia slid off her barrel-seat and headed after the big man.

Seraphina walked past Adran, patting him on the arm. “He was trying. Even if you didn’t notice, Mr. Adran.” She kept going, joining Malark and Lia as they inspected a stout set of doors at the end of a short passage.

“Fine lassies, they are. Methinks yer a lucky bastard t’ have any friends at all.” Jarek picked up his hammer and stomped off, not bothering to look back.

Adran stood alone in the cave, looking at the floor. He sighed, and drummed his fingers on a pouch. Looking around at the scattered supplies, he kicked a small sack across the room, and turned to follow the others.

————————-

“Hear greenskins. Talk loud.”

Malark had his ear up to the door, listening to whatever was beyond.

“How many?” Seraphina leaned closer.

Malark shrugged. “Sound same. Many?”

“Many?” Seraphina’s voice pitched up. She put her ear to the door, closing her eyes as she listened.

Lia was pacing, loading her crossbow, and murmuring. Jarek, for once, was quiet. Adran stood further back, apart from the others.

“At least a couple voices. Three for sure. They seem to be arguing.” Seraphina spoke as she pulled back from the door. “Can’t leave them waiting forever, can we?”

“Can we handle another large group?” Lia asked.

“Do we have a choice?” Seraphina still had her ear to the door.

“Sure. We can sneak away, and go down to the Forge, leave these gits alone.”

Jarek shook his head. “Nay, we cannae leave them. Yer big friend is right, all the greenskins need t’ die.”

Malark smiled his grimace-smile, shaking his head in agreement. He put his hand on the door handle and looked at the others.

Seraphina shrugged and drew her blades. Lia winked at Malark and shouldered her crossbow. Jarek growled an oath and hefted his hammer. Adran, still back from the others finally spoke.

“Might as well. Go ahead Malark.” He half drew an arrow, crouching in readiness.

Tearing the doors open with a snarl, Malark rushed through, blocking any missile shots for a moment. Jarek and Seraphina followed him in, with Lia coming close on their heels. The room was filled with barrels, sacks and crates. Piles of loot lined the four walls leaving a small space in the center that was crowded with rough straw pallet-beds indicating at least some orcs slept here. Seven of the beasts were in the center of the room arguing over something, with a bleeding wolf cowering beyond them.

“Tha’ be the one tha’ ran!” Jarek hurled a hand axe at one of the orcs.

Malark waded into the group, swing his axe in great, two-handed strokes, scattering the orcs. Lia hit one with a well-aimed bolt, then slung her crossbow and let fire envelope her hands. Seraphina charged another orc, separating it from its fellows with ferocious blade strikes. It parried and swung, backing away in defense. Adran moved in, bow up, targeting the wounded orc pawing at the bolt imbedded in its gut. His shot hit in the armpit, burying the arrow deep and dropping it. Numbers were nearly even now. The wolf sprinted from the room, moving so fast none of the party had time to swing at it.

“Leave it! The wolf isn’t the threat!” Adran was drawing and firing as fast as he could.

The orcs regained their composure and fought with desperate defiance. They knew they might be the only survivors in the fast, and despite the danger did not give into fear. Scarred and grizzled, they seemed to be this band’s veterans and would not mewl into death like lesser creatures. Malark took two for his own, knocking every attack aside and dealing death cut by cut. His bulk and the messy room kept their fight apart as he pushed the two orcs into a corner. Seraphina parried and slashed, stabbing when she could, dancing out of range when she had to. Her fight was efficient and deadly, and she was next to bring her foe down. Lia sent bolts of fire and ice flying, burning and freezing any orc she could see. Jarek crushed the life from one orc seconds after Seraphina cut her foe down, and began battering another in turn.

Smashing Jarek’s hammer aside, the orc leapt onto the stunty priest, grappling him to the ground. All snarls, bellowed oaths and curses, the two rolled and punched, knocking into the piled loot. The orc dropped his axe and wrapped his hands around Jarek’s thick neck, trying to strangle him. Gargling and gasping, the dwarf tried to roll the heavy orc off.

“Gggg… Gggrrr…” he growled and gasped.

Seraphina bounced off a barrel, leaping over one of the pallets holding both swords in downward grips. She buried the blades into the orc, narrowly missing Jarek underneath the brute. Blade tips protruding, the lifeless orc collapsed on the dwarf. Pulling the blades free in time, Seraphina saved herself the shame of wounding a friend.

Coughing as he tried to take a breath, Jarek only could nod his thanks as she looked down. She climbed off the dead orc, helping Jarek throw the deadweight off. Jarek got to a knee, drawing deep breaths, one hand on the floor to steady himself.

Adran had traded bow for sword and was dueling one of the brutes. With Lia at his side, he sliced a deep gash on the beast’s arm, cutting something important, for the arm fell limp. Reaching forward, Lia sent one last flaming mote into its face, dropping the bloody orc to the messy floor.

Malark sported a handful of superficial cuts from his ongoing battle. Both orcs he had cornered were gushing blood from deep wounds, staggering more and more with every passing moment. Sensing victory, Malark beheaded one of them, then smashed the other to the floor, stomping on its face and killing it. He was wheezing, days of tough fights finally wearing down the huge man. Covered in fresh blood, his own and orcish, he was a terrifying sight.

Each of the party found a little space to find themselves after this brutal fight. Wounds they had carried all day were freshly opened, and oozing. Cracked bones ground painfully. They were in bad shape, and needed to rest. Sipping water or wine, and seeing to wounds, they gathered the last reserves of strength they had.

Seraphina was the first to rise. She started searching the cluttered, messy chamber. Tossing filthy hides and blankets aside, and rummaging in the open crates, she found a large orange-yellow stone hidden under one of the pallets, the stone glimmering in the torch light. Holding it up, the facets caught the light.

“Ah! A regal topaz!” Jarek, hauled himself to his feet and sauntered painfully over. “That is a rare stone, indeed!” He took the stone from Seraphina and held it close to his eye, examining it closely. “A good ‘un, too. Worth a fair bit ‘o coin, miss.” He handed the stone back and began searching the room with her.

A few minutes later Jarek picked up a tankard on one of the tables and heard rattling in it. Dumping the contents into his hand, he palmed several black stones streaked with pale white, some faceted, some smoothly polished.

Seraphina stepped close to look at the stones.

“Are those gems?”

“Ah, miss, t’ey are. Onyx. More common than tha’ beauty you found, still worth some coin.”

While they admired the stones, Lia uncovered a corroded iron cauldron hidden amid the barrels and crates. The jangle of coins was heard as she pulled the cauldron across the flagstones. Malark stomped over and helped her heft the cauldron onto one of the tables. Gold and silver coins filled the iron vessel, glittering in the sputtering torches. Lia scooped a handful up and poured the coins back into the cauldron.

“More coins. We are going to need a pack train to get all of this home.”

“All this, plus what we left in that smelly brute’s room.”

“And all the coins we hid in that tomb.”

“Poor ponies.” Seraphina smiled sadly. They are going to be loaded down.”

“All of us will be, lassie. All of us!” Jarek laughed a hearty, loud laugh. “Me thinks we should scout around the rest of this level. I think we might have been everywhere now.”

“For real? We can finally rest for a bit?”

“A long while, I hope.” Lia yawned. “I really need some sleep.”

“I have a plan.” Jarek clapped his hands together and grinned.

The party gathered around him, one eye on the door, the other on the smiling dwarf.

“Me and the wee lass will go scout around. I am certain we have seen every part of this level.” Jarek tapped his head. “The map is clear in here. We have been in every chamber on this level. Barring some secret places we have yet to find.”

“Should we look for them?”

“We kin, if we want to spend days and days here.”

“Which we don’t want to. Not really.”

“Me thoughts, too. We cannae stay forever. We need t’ find the Forge, and then we kin return with the good news.”

“And enjoy our hard-earned gains.”

“So, the plan?” Lia was playing in the cauldron of coins.

“I take Serphina and we go scout around. She is sneaky and quick. You lot start moving everythin’ we have found to the stairs. Stash things with those two we found. When we get done, all of us kin move the treasure down to the sepulchers. Tho’ commoners kin help, too. Get everythin’ safely stashed down below, then go open the Iron Door.”

“Sounds easy enough. But how about me and Seraphina do the scouting and you three do the heavy lifting?” Lia smiled sweetly.

“Well, ‘cuz you two don’t know yer way around!” Jarek blustered, his cheeks reddening.

“I think we could do ok. Left, right, right, two lefts, and another right. Sound good Seri?”

Seraphina laughed, her eyes twinkling.

“Are you sure it wasn’t right, left, right, right?”

“Pretty sure. We will be fine. Let these strapping lads do the heavy lifting.”

Jarek looked from Lia to Seraphina, and back. He harumphed and snorted, but didn’t reply.

“She’s just teasing,” Seraphina said, laughing hard. “I think we would get hopelessly lost.”

“Speak for yourself.” Lia tossed her hair and slung her crossbow. She picked up a couple of small sacks and looked up at Malark. “Grab that cauldron. You can stash it on the way to the barricade. Then we’ll go get those two chests from the smelly brute’s place. Good luck getting that smell out. After we move stuff, I want to make something to eat. The fire was burning, and they had pots and water. Plus, there is plenty of looted food. Root stuff, dried meats, hard tack. We can eat pretty good.”

“See you three soon!” Seraphina pulled at Jarek before he could comment. “Let’s go exploring.”

A couple hours later the party was finishing up a hearty stew made from scavenged food. The orcs carried piles of loot back to the fast, and had sacks and barrels of food stashed all over. Barrels of water allowed them to scrub a large cauldron somewhat clean before they got to work. Courana eagerly helped, chopping and cutting the root vegetables before adding them to the pot. She stirred and stirred, tending the stew until it was ready. “The least I can do for rescuing me,” she simply stated when others tried to help. A watery beer was a welcome diversion from water, however pure it was deep underground. Satiated, they made their way back to the stairs, and the toil of moving the gathered treasure deeper underground. The task took several more hours, and by the time they finished they were sweaty, dirty, and exhausted. A quick trip to the freezing cold stream let them clean up, but chilled them all. They had carried firewood from the kitchen cave, and soon had a crackling fire casting light across the dwarven sarcophagi. Wrapped in blankets, they decided on a watch rotation, and quickly fell asleep.

Several times during the night the watch-keeper heard noises in the Glitterhame. Claw or foot on stone, shuffling through the dark. Each time the noises faded with no threat. Hours later the party ate a simple meal of dried foods, and began to make preparations to descend into the Forge.

“What about us?” Geradil was standing close to Adran, looking at the elf. The fire had burned low and only a faint orange light shone. “You can’t leave us here. I heard things in the dark. Whatever it be, you can’t leave us.”

“Take no worries, laddie. There is nothing down here tha’ll come up here amid th’ graves. You can bet your last crowns on that.”

“Ain’t got no crowns to bet.” Courana shook her head sadly.

“Never you mind, you will be safe up here until we return. No creatures will disturb this place.”

“You did.”

“We did because our cause is just, an’ these be me distant kin. We invited you, an’ ye’ll be safe here. Dwarf’s oath.” Jarek was solemn, making the warrior’s sign when he spoke. “Plus, we shant be gone long. ‘Nother day at best.”

“A day?” There was panic in Courana’s voice. “Just us, in the dark?”

“Ye cannae come with us, miss. You cannae. Its deeper an’ more dangerous. We dinnae go to any corner w’ou fighting somethin’.”

“He’s right.” Seraphina rested her hand on Courana’s arm. “We have been in fight after fight. It’s dangerous.”

“And it’s not dangerous leaving us alone?” Geradil was panicky.

“Less dangerous than the next fight. I told ye, no creature will bother you up here.”

“And we are supposed to just stay here in the dark?”

“It’s not as dark as ye think, laddie. Wait ‘til the fire goes out. Ye’ll see.” Jarek turned away, and headed down the stairs, not giving either of the former captives a chance to reply.

The others followed. Seraphina last of the Four.

“There was thick dust on the stairs to this ledge when we found it. He isn’t wrong, nothing has come up here in years. The tombs are undisturbed. It’s ok, it’s safe here.”

“But the dark…”

“Try and sleep, it’ll pass the time. Soon enough we will be back, and we can leave. If you want to go on your own,” Seraphina pointed towards the stream cave. “Go towards the stream, then turn right. Go a ways on, and you’ll come to a larger cave. There is a tunnel in that cave that leads to the outside. But you’ll be on your own. Might be more orcs out there. Might not.” Seraphina shrugged. “Your choice. Outside on your own, or wait for us. We’ll escort you home. Promise.” She turned away and started down the steps, pausing to look back. “Try and rest. We’ll be back soon.”

Fading into the darkness of the Glitterhame, Seraphina looked back one last time, barely making out Courana and Geradil standing on edge of the ledge, watching them leave. She waved, unable to tell if they could see her or not.

Jarek was bouncing with excitement. He was nearly running as he crossed the Glitterhame, approaching the Iron Door. He was waiting, key in hand when the others finally arrived.

“This is th’ key, it fits!” He was flushed, breathing fast as he turned the key in the lock.

They all heard the loud click of the latch releasing, and then a series of clunks, before Jarek looked back at the others. He pulled on the handle, swinging the heavy door open. The door opened with barely the sound of metal on metal, there was no grinding of corrosion or screech of stuck parts. It was more a vault door than a simple metal door, heavily built with massive round locking bolts studded around the perimeter. The air beyond was stale and dry, with the faint scent of ash and metal.

“This is it. The door to the Forge!” Jarek ushered the others in, then pulled the door closed, locking it behind them. “No sense leaving an open door for others t’ follow.”

“Who would follow us?”

“Those two silly villagers. Nay enough sense to stay put when dangers lurk.”

Looking around, they found themselves in wide passage, turning to their left a short distance beyond. Jarek again led the way, approaching the turn cautiously. He leaned around the corner for a moment, then stood up, looking at the others.

“Stairs. A long set o’ stairs. Dwarven carved.”

“Which way?”

“Up, o’ course!”

p.s. I spent a lot of time trying to generate some battle scenes to add life to his chapter. The AI generators I am using really can’t do it. I tried a new one that supposedly can, but either reddit is wrong, or its a steep learning curve. Sorry.

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.