Dalmar rubbed his eyes as he sat up in his bed. The darkness of the early morning brought with it a stillness that seemed to fall upon everything, seeming to have a voice all its own like a raspy whisper with breathy tone. The moonlight fell through the window of his room and fell onto the floor with a lazy sort of gait about the room like a drunken sot at the last moment before drifting to unconsciousness. Dalmar yawned a disappointed yawn as he stood up and stretched. It was too early to rise he thought, and he looked out the window onto the surrounding treeline around Altendon. Disappointed, Dalmar grumbled. He could only find moments of sleep this night. His mind seemed troubled and agitated beckoning his body to an early rise. Dalmar's mind shifted back to the previous day's skulking in the underground passages below The Scarlet Tanager. Yawning again, Dalmar soon realized that every ounce of sleep he would be getting that night had ended. Dalmar sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots back on his feet, and then walked out into the hallway.
The castle was quiet this morning. Only very occasional sounds of the guards shifting in their stances and walking the passages. The crackling noises of the torch fire upon the walls seemed almost foreign to the warrior who walked aimlessly through the halls of the strange castle. Finding no comfort within the cold halls of the keep, Dalmar made his way up the wide staircase to the roof. The cool breeze of the early morning blew across him and he shuddered as he walked across the wide open rooftop to the edge of the fortress. His eyes traced the tops of the trees and ran down the center of the homes along the hill that he and Sh'lzzt had walked between when they first entered the city. His home of Wahskre seemed a million miles away and part of a dream, perhaps existing in another world. Dalmar thought of town of Oberon and the escape from The Raven's Roost. He thought about the taste of the corn he stole from the farmer's crops as he and Sh'lzzt entered the roadway, and he thought about Sh'lzzt's comical disapproval as he tossed the cob to he ground. Dalmar walked to other side of the roof, passing by the guards who kept watch over the town and its access points. He looked out over the northwest sea of dark treetops highlighted by bits of moonlight. He squinted as he tried to discern the far away places that he was determined to find, but saw nothing but the gray sky and its dark, fluffy clouds as they drifted across the light of the moon. Then seemingly out of thin air, Dalmar's momentarily solace was broken by a voice.
"Can't sleep, eh?" Lars said. Dalmar turned to address the voice, his eyes falling upon Lars who had apparently come to find the same peace for which Dalmar sought. Lars sighed, and nodded towards Dalmar, his thick brown braids blowing in the morning breeze.
"Couldn't sleep, yeah." Dalmar said as his eyes fell upon the distracted Lars whose stare draped across the same trees that Dalmar hoped would reveal some secret. "What are you doing up here, Lars?" Dalmar asked.
"Couldn't sleep either. Occasionally, we warriors need to shake off some of the demons that follow us around, I guess. I've come to toss them off the sides of the castle in hope that they crash to the ground and fall silent." Lars smiled tenderly for a moment. The two men paused and accepted the awkward silence between them as they looked out across the land together. "Byrum was my brother." Lars said softly as he sighed and bit his lip. Dalmar turned to Lars who stood staring over the wall's edge, and patted him on his shoulder with a warm, sympathetic sort of touch.
"I'm sorry, Lars." Dalmar said. "We'll set this to right. Have faith, man." Dalmar smiled briefly at Lars, trying to give Lars as well as himself some assurance and momentary peace. But Lars stood stiff as if oblivious to his own surroundings.
"Aye, Zeke, we will." Lars uttered softly. "Indeed, we will." Dalmar placed his hands on the wall's edge and spit over the side of the castle, watching it fall until he could no longer see it in the shadows of the castle and the early morning. The first morning birds began to echo as the first beam of light began to penetrate the edge of the horizon, and the two men knew that the morning would soon be in full swing. The castle began to stir as the sounds of footsteps marked the changing of the guard. Dalmar stood upright, and he yawned once again.
"Come on, man. A good meal will make you feel better. It always makes me feel better." Dalmar said to Lars, smiling as he patted his friend on the back once again.
"Go on without me. I'm going to watch the sun rise and then I'll join you." Lars turned to Dalmar and forced a wry smile, and then continued his stance. Nodding, Dalmar turned to enter the depths of the castle once again. Dalmar passed more armored guards as he walked the halls, and ladies in waiting marched together towards the chambers of the king's guests. Like Dalmar, the wise men and men of science walked with the men of the clergy, each seeking out their morning rituals as they passed in the corridors of the castle. Dalmar made it to the place where he and Dorian's men had eaten their breakfasts the previous morning, and soon he was filling his belly with beans and slices of ham and bread. The hearty breakfast did, indeed, help Dalmar to distract himself from his troubled mind, and soon Dorian and Phillip entered the room.
"Ahh, Zeke, I was hoping this is where I'd find you. Good to see you up." Dorian said as Phillip marched straight over to the steaming cauldron of morning morsels and scooped himself out a bowl of beans. "Where's Lars? Have you seen him?" Dorian asked.
"I saw him earlier. He'll be along shortly he said." Dalmar replied.
"Right then." Dorian said as he sat down at the long table among the other member of the King's staff. Soon, each of them had their faces buried in their own bowls of food when Lars walked nto the room. Dalmar looked at Lars with a nod, noticing that Lars seemed to be refreshed. Lars smiled slightly as he crossed the room, and sat at the table opposite Dalmar who was on his third bowl of beans and meat by that time. Losing himself for a moment, Dalmar leaned back and erupted with a hearty belch as he patted his belly with a smile. "Well, then..." Dorian said. "I see someone approves of the king's food." Dorian grinned as he stuffed his own mouth with bread. Within a few moments, the men had devoured their portions when Dorian said, "Ok, men. I'll meet you in front of the gate shortly. I have to meet with Polias first. We need to get our numbers back up to strength." Dorian stood up and walked out of the room without looking back. Dalmar looked at Lars again who gave no return glance. Dalmar looked over to Phillip who had opened a small tome and was furiously scanning its pages with his wide open eyes. Dalmar grinned at Phillip's child-like face perusing the knowledge contained within the pages of his book. What could be so interesting? The world was pretty straightforward Dalmar thought. He had found both hardship and happiness alike without whatever secrets were found in books. But then again, Phillip had some rare talents, and Dalmar guessed that perhaps it was because of the knowledge he found in his strange books. Dalmar thought about this for a moment, staring into space. He entertained the idea of learning of the knowledge contained within such things. Dalmar chuckled softly as he thought of himself as a magician.
"Bah!" Dalmar said, losing himself again. Phillip looked up from his book at Dalmar.
"What's that?" Phillip queried as Dalmar rose from the table.
"As entertaining as this is...." Dalmar answered as he paused for a moment. "Actually, Phillip..." Dalmar began. "Is there a library around here?" Dalmar asked of Phillip.
"Of course!" Phillip said smartly. "But there probably isn't a lot you can find that should help you swing a sword or block a spear thrust." Phillip said smugly.
"Well, that's not exactly what I had in mind...." Dalmar said.
"If there's one thing I've learned from this world..." blurted Lars. "...it's that there are warriors and there are mages, and never the two shall twain." Phillip smirked.
"And how do you explain me, Lars?" Phillip said as he lowered his eyebrows.
"I attempt to do nothing of the sort, my dear man" Lars said as he smiled at Dalmar and paused. "There's no excuse for you." Dalmar chuckled with Lars as Phillip scoffed and stood up as the two sides of his book snapped together.
"Incorrigible!" Phillip said to Lars as Lars leaned back in his chair and grinned at Phillip. Dalmar grinned at the two men as he turned out of the room and down the corridor that lead to the front of the castle. Dalmar senses that the spirits of he and his comrades seemed to have lifted from earlier this morning. He was pleased, but he wondered who or if Dorian would be able to get some more men to help them explore the other passages of the caverns below The Scarlet Tanager. Within moments, Dalmar found himself at the castle's stockade with time to spare. The creaking of the castle gates echoed in the morning air, and Dalmar stepped outside the castle into the city streets. Dalmar decided he would take a moment to walk around while he waited for Dorian to meet the men from returning from his meeting with the king.
The first merchants of the day began to enter the boundaries of the town to peddle their wares. Dalmar, vigilant as ever, kept his eyes upon his person and took notice of the people who appeared in the early morning sun to conduct their daily business. Unlike when Sh'lzzt and he entered Altendon the first time, no men with red sashes were visible. He figured that they must have been encouraged to go into hiding or leave the area entirely. Maybe they abandoned their particular markings in favor of another? Whatever the reason, Dalmar paid close attention to not stray too far from sight of the castle gates. The sweet smells of apples soon wafted across Dalmar's nose as he walked over to small cart and looked at the delectable morsels of the merchant. "Care for an apple or two, sir? They're fresh off the branch this morning!" the merchant said. Dalmar nodded and smiled at the merchant as he dug into his pockets. To Dalmar's surprise, he found no money in his pockets - no jingling of coin, and pieces of glittering metal falling between his fingers. Dalmar raised an eyebrow and quickly blushed lightly.
"Oops, I guess I will have to try again later..." Dalmar said as the merchant glared at him briefly. Dalmar suddenly realized that he had never recovered his losses since before waking up in the desert. Everything that he enjoyed from that time was either pillaged or received by the grace of Polias and his keep. Dalmar was truly unsettled by his sudden realization of poverty. He would have to try and settle this somewhere along the way, but for the moment it was time to return to the castle. Turning away from the merchant, Dalmar headed back to the castle gate where he found Lars and Phillip awaiting Dorian's return.
"What are you doing out there, Zeke?" Lars shouted to Dalmar as Dalmar walked in through the gates of the castle.
"Discovering that I have no money, apparently." Dalmar said with a chuckle.
"Did you get robbed? Those little bastards! You got to watch those...." Lars seemed genuinely angry having thought Dalmar was victimized in the city as he walked about.
"No, no, no, Lars! I never had any. It was all taken a long time ago when Lanthis and I were ambushed." Dalmar chuckled as Dorian walked up behind Lars gripping the hilt of his sword.
"What do we have here?" Dorian said. "Have you decided to start without me?" Dorian grinned as he delighted in the enthusiasm of his men. "Well, hold off on the thunderous vengeance, my dear Lars. We've got three other men coming to join us. Give them a moment." Dorian stood in place looking around for the men granted a position beside Dorian and his rag-tag crew of inquisitors and warriors. Within moments, three armored guards approached and Dorian welcomed them to his ranks. "Ok, now we're all together, we're going back into those passages below The Scarlet Tanager. " Dorian looked at his men one last time before leading the procession of warriors and guards through the streets of Altendon once again, and into the well-guarded tavern.
Together, the seven men, torch in hand, descended the winding stone staircase into the depths below the cityscape. One by one, they paused on the oval stone slab at the bottom of the steps. Dorian shined his torch ahead of his forward stance. Dorian grumbled as a thick, eerie mist seemed to hang over the watery passage in the dark. The odor of decay and algae mixed the velvety texture of the air as it was drawn in and out of each of the lungs of the men. Dalmar noted the taste of dirt that filled his mouth, and he spit to try to remove the awful taste. Dorian stepped off the stone slab and into the murky shallows of the nasty water that trickled through the subterranean corridor. Each of the men nervously glanced to the westward direction and into the darkness as they stepped into the passage behind Dorian. The mist seemed to swirl about their bodies, and the soft, pulsing glow of the torches seemed to do little to deter the nearly-sentient wisps of filthy gas.
"I have an idea. Here, this may help." Phillip said in normal tone. Phillip reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blue pebble, and holding it one hand he held it high. "Luhm inara pahss!" said with authoritative tone. Suddenly, as the men watched, the pebble began to glow and soon floated above the heads of the men. "You can extinguish your torches now." Phillip said. "It will move along with us for either a couple hours or until I get rid of it." Dorian raised an eyebrow and looked at Phillip as he dipped the end of his torch into the water with a sizzle.
"Remind me to ask you why we didn't do that last time" Dorian said with mild annoyance. Each of the men returned their dormant torches to their bags and sacks, and Dorian began the procession once again. The feet of the men seemed to hit the shallow trickling of water with thunderous step as each echoed from the algae covered walls of stone that surrounded the warriors as they crept through the darkness. With each few meters, the walls and floors seemed to bleed small vermin screeching with strange discovery. The air took upon a putrid, thick odor as the familiar smells of rotting flesh filled the air. Dalmar covered his face with his sleeve as he pulled his sword from its sheath. Lars followed suit, but the three armored men supplied y the king's grace found no comfort in the armor of their apparel. Unable to bear it no more, the three new men began to cough wildly. "Quiet, you fools! Do you want to alert everyone of our presence?" Dorian said in a hushed, angry tone. The three men shook their heads and attempted to quiet their coughing. Phillip smirked, pulling a small bottle of white grease from his bag. Dipping his thumb and forefingers into the bottle, he wiped a smear of grease under the nose of each of the inexperienced guards.
"Shh!" said Phillip. "That should help. Now, keep it down. No coughing, no sneezing, no laughing, no warcries, and no flatulence." Phillip shot an expression of disapproval towards each of the young guards. Dorian turned to the passage ahead once again, the pulse of the blue stone hanging in the air radiating at a distance of about ten to fifteen feet along the nasty corridor. The water and algae took upon a reddish sort of hue and soon the presence of blood was apparent. As the light of Phillip's token moved with the men, an enormous pile of rats revealed itself, squirming as one gigantic mass of filthy hair and tails. From within the mass of rats glittered the silver pieces of armor of Polias' men covered with a thin layer of putrid water and deep red blood. The white bones of the fallen men, ambushed from the day before poked through the darkness as the wriggling bodies of death's minions crawled in the squishy puddle of rotting human flesh. A strange steam rose from the bodies of the fallen men, and seemed to feed the gas that hung in the air. Still, the passage continued ever on. As Dalmar looked at the horrid scene, a strange feeling came about his person, and he felt uneasy.
"Dorian..." Dalmar said softly. "Something's doesn't feel right here."
"Why's that?" Dorian said.
"He's right. It doesn't make sense that they would kill them and leave them for us to find them so easily." Phillip said, backing up Dalmar's claim.
"He's right, Dorian." Lars said. "Let Philip check it out, Dorian." Dorian looked at each of his men, and nodded.
"Ok, Phillip, check it out." Dorian said. Phillip edged in front of Dorian, and stood before the three mounds of blood and sinew covered in rats. Phillip bit his lip as he looked over the areas of the passage lined with dripping strands of fungus and algae. Phillip walked slowly around the the first bloody carcass of metal and bone, kicking the rats aside as he skirted along the edge of the passage. Phillip looked at the rounded top of the passage above the glowing pebble, and crossed in front of the first body to the other side. Dalmar watched Phillip closely as the other men kept an eye on the environment, and he noticed Phillip seemed to be following a line around the circumference of the passage in front of the corpse.
"Hmm..." Phillip exclaimed.
"What is it, Phillip?" Lars asked with urgency.
"Foh-Rundh!" Phillip said loudly. Phillip stared at the ceiling above the glowing token once again as a bright white glyph came into view, burning through the greasy strands of filth that grew about the surface of the tunnel. Phillip squinted as he studied the new found charm. Dorian grumbled as Lars looked at Dorian. Dalmar fidgeted as he turned his attention to the passage ahead.
"What's that, Phillip? Can you get rid of it?" Dorian beckoned.
"Well, that's what I'm in the middle of figuring out, Dorian." Phillip said with an annoyed tone as he thumbed through his tome. "Damnit!" Phillip said finally. "This one isn't in here; I don't know what this is and I certainly don't recognize any part of this glyph." Dorian showed his displeasure as he struck the corpse with the end of his own sword. The screeches of rats blew through the tunnel like the combined breaths of a swarm of tiny demons.
"Surely, this isn't he only way to go about things" Dalmar said frustratedly. "Instead of trying to remove the thing, why don't we try to anticipate what it does and protect ourselves from it. Can you do that?" Dalmar's annoyance with the stall became glaringly apparent to the men. "At any rate, if something doesn't happen soon, I'm just going to say to hell with it and step on through." Dalmar paused as he clenched his lips together.
"Aye..." Lars said. "I see no point in coming here and turning right back around." Lars reached behind him and pulled his mighty axe from his its place on his back. "I say we go on ahead. The rest of you can cower here." Lars took a deep breath and lowered his gaze at Dorian.
"Well, I suppose that I could try something here. But it will take a few minutes, and we will have to remain within about ten feet of each other." Phillip said finally.
"Not much room to maneuver" Dorian said.
"Better than going back with nothing to show for it" Lars replied. Dorian's caution annoyed Lars, and grew to make him angry. Lars wouldn't forsake his own brother's efforts on the account that Dorian may be afraid. He knew there was no glory in retreat. There was no glory in knowing your enemy's name unless you one day lived to see your blade buried within that same enemy's chest. Dorian seemed to ponder over the decision longer than any of the other men seemed necessary. Dorian knew that each pair of string eyes wanted to continue regardless of life or limb.
"Make it so, Phillip. But if it doesn't work, we go back, got it?" Dorian said as Phillip crossed over to the men.
"Got it, chief." Phillip said. Reaching into his bag, Phillip pulled out a small clear crystal and hung it around his neck. "Stand around me guys. I've got to be in the center at all times." The small group of warriors reassembled themselves, Dorian and Dalmar at the front, as Phillip closed his eyes began chanting. "Tula ru, me'nari, voh ruhn dar!" Lars stared at Dorian as he chimed in with Phillip in meter and time, "Tula Ru, me'nari, voh ruhn dar!" Dalmar looked at Lars and then at Dorian. Shrugging, Dalmar also matched Phillips meter, joining the other men in the chant. "Tula ru, me'nari, voh ruhn dar!" the men chanted softly in the shadowy blue light of the floating charm above their heads, and then all at once they stopped as the amulet around Phillips neck pulsed once with white light. A second burst of energy blew past the men huddled together in the strange underground tunnel, and struck the slimy walls of the passage with a sizzle. The small, floating beacon tumbled in the air creating a flickering light effect on the area before slowly coming to rest in mid-air once again. Dalmar opened his eyes as the odor of burnt rats filled the tunnel with a brief inglorious result of acrid smoke. Phillip opened his eyes, too. "It appears to have worked for the most part." Phillip said aloud. "This will protect us versus things like fire and frost and falling rocks for as long as we are within ten feet of the amulet. I do not guarantee much more than that, however."
"Ok, all at once..." Dorian said. "Forward, men." The men moved together as one unit amongst the bodies rotting in the putrescence of the sewer-like tunnels. The sounds of the armored men, now louder than any other sounds in the tunnel, rang eerily up and down the tunnel. As they passed the glyph above, it pulsed with energy bearing its enlarged likeness on the ground below. The men passed the second corpse directly behind the first, and another glyph pulsed from above in the same manner. Rats squealed as they jumped out of the way of the careful steps of the king's men. The footing of the tunnel that had played havoc with the newcomers to the party proved to echo that same sentiment. The glistening sweat of nervous agitation and the lack of moving air in the tunnels dripped down the faces of each of the men. But then there was a large crash as one of the three inexperienced guards fell to the ground, his armor clanking like a sack of metal pots and pans. Instinctively, his comrade stopped and moved to help his friend from the shallow water filled with filth. But the remaining party members moved forward, unable to spy their own folly as the two soldiers moved outside of the ten foot circle around the travelers. As Dorian's foot struck the water in front of him, the screams of the unfortunate king's guard echoed through the passage like an icicle made of pain and suffering, striking each of the men in the nape and the heart. Dalmar and Lars snapped their heads around, and to their dismay the tiny rats that once stayed clear of the larger humans now filled the corridor, holding the torn limbs and bodies of the two soldiers like grandma's bloody cookies in their mouths. No longer beady, the rat's eyes seethed with energy escaping at the corners, and their claws scraped the stone as they moved with purpose. The rats were now enormous, standing on their rear legs to the height of nearly six feet, and their tails were as bullwhips or great reptilian constrictors slithering upon the ground beside them. Dalmar grabbed the back of the cuirass of the young guard in front of him without thinking, and dragged him to the back where Dorian stood. Phillip moved quickly behind Dalmar and Lars as Lars' axe rang out again. Dalmar spit to the ground as he removed his swords from their sheaths and charged the first rat.
Together, the new foes lunged at the other. Dalmar spun as he brought his two blades across the body of the rat, cleaving its arm from its shoulder and driving his blade into the body of the monstrous vermin. As the grotesquely maimed beast roared, Lars' axe swooped down from above and buried itself into its head covering the two in a spray of red ink. Dalmar withdrew the his sword from the rat's ribcage as the body of the humongous limp corpse flopped on the ground before him and Lars. In the back of Dalmar's mind, he could hear Phillips voice sounding as he thrust his sword through the snout of another lunging beast. With the other blade, Dalmar pierced the jaw of the beast, pinning it to its mandible. Lars followed suit with his axe once again and struck the bloodthirsty giant rat in the neck, nearly decapitating it completely. Dalmar quickly snagged the his sword from the jowls of the nasty minion of death before it slumped to its death in the subterranean hallway. The great bodies of the dead filled the hallway halfway up the walls, and another rat began to claw its way in between the first two rats to get at the food on two legs before it. Suddenly and without warning, Phillip rushed forward between Lars and Dalmar and tossed a small pouch into the mouth of the rat. Reacting, Dalmar threw his body against Phillip as the mage released his magical contents, sending a puff of glittery dust following the pouch to its target. The horrible beast snapped at the soaring bag like the jaws of a great, hairy dragon of ears and teeth, and swallowed it in one gulp. Phillip flew through the air with Dalmar's bash, striking Dorian like a bowling ball against a set of pins. Lars' axe flew through the air at the beast devouring Phillip's charm, its two forepaws dangling through the small opening in the wall of dead rats.
"Clang!"
"Great balls of Doman!" Lars yelled out in pain as the blade of is axe struck solid stone. Lars' axe fell to the ground as the shock of the blow ran through his arms. Dalmar looking at the rat frozen in the hallway realized that Phillip had turned the rat to stone. Combined with the bodies of the dead rats blocking the hallway, the men were safe for the moment. No passage was possible.
"We don't have long. We need to keep going. Those damn things will chew through the corpses of the those two right there in just a few moments!" Dorian furiously picked Phillip from the ground and smacked the remaining young guard on the back of the helmet.
"He's right this time, Lars. We need to get going." Dalmar said.
"He could've at least warned me before doing that, man!" Lars exclaimed as he rubbed his hands. Picking up the blemished axe, Lars ran after his party at the hells of Dalmar. The two brave warriors were just a few feet out of the range of the light pebble until their superior conditioning caught up with the rest of their party.
"Ok, stop!" said Phillip. "We can't continue fighting these things forever, and there's no getting out the way we came in!" Phillip shouted to Dorian.
"Phillip! Don't you do it!" Dorian shouted as he grabbed Phillip. Lars and Dalmar looked at each other, both confused.
"What? What are you going to do?" Dalmar asked Phillip.
"He's going to collapse the tunnel behind us, Zeke! He's going to seal us in here!" Dorian said furiously.
"Dorian, he's right! There are too many of them in the hallway behind us. We will never outlast those things." Dalmar exclaimed. Phillip climbed to his feet and looked at Dorian.
"Damnit, Dorian! You know what he says is true! I will not be eaten by big fuckin' rats just because you're afraid of the dark. Even if there is no exit in this direction, I should be able to get us out of here one way or another. Grow some balls, and get out of the way!" Phillip was furious. Dorian had little to say and, stunned, just looked at Phillip. Dalmar was stunned, too, and eventually a laugh burst forth from Dalmar in one loud plop. Lars dropped his axe again, and jumping up and down laughed raucously. Phillip's face changed and his eyebrows raised to their normal height as he looked at Lars. Dorian blushed. The young guard said nothing but just looked at Dorian and his red face. Phillip turned and took a few steps in front of Lars and Dalmar. "Cover your mouths, everyone!" Phillip shouted. Dalmar backed away from Phillip as did Lars. Phillip's arms shot into the air, and the thinly framed sorcerer shouted "Orroro ban'tha igni torra té, el'dthrappha tui...NOTÈ !!"
With his final utterance, Phillip pointed down the dark corridor as a shower of spark shot from his fingertip striking the stones of the filthy hallway before him. Bright lights and the odor of an almost alchemical metallic stench filled the air as each man behind Phillip clenched his eyes tight and covered their mouths. The earth creaked and thundered as the tiny sparks littered the corridor, and one by one the roughly hewn stones began to loosen themselves into the passage. First the small stones, then the next larger stones, until finally boulders of granites and huge clumbs of earths and tree roots filled the cavern. The air became as dust, and the grit and sand covered everything up to Phillips sabatons. Through it all, Phillip stood firm in the face of certain doom, holding back the impending end of the world with merely the authority and a nasty glare. Then it stopped.
Phillip turned around and faced Dorian through the cloud of dust in the air. "If I didn't know any better...." Dalmar said as he coughed a puff of dirt from his lungs. "I'd have to say I think you got that one down pretty well..." Phillip smiled momentarily as he turned to Dalmar, trying not to lose his demeanor as he approached the king's appointed man.
"Now, if you don't mind, Dorian..." Phillip said, pelting him softly with his tone. "Let's move on." Phillip sidestepped Dorian and began to walk down the remaining portion of the corridor, the small source of light following above with every step. The edge of darkness once again encroached upon the party as Phillip moved down the passage in front of them.
"Come on, guys. Let's keep moving." Dorian said as he trotted off down the hallway after Phillip. Each of the men knew that Dorian had lost valuable face in the light of Phillips leadership. It was obvious to Lars and Dalmar that the position of authority may very well have shifted entirely. Whatever the outcome, Dalmar saw Phillip in an entirely new light. No longer would he make a sarcastic remark about Phillip's occasional avoidance of battle. No longer would he roll his eyes at Phillip's books and arcane knowledge. But Dalmar also saw Dorian in a new light, and now believed that Dorian's authority was one built upon verbal exchange rather than action. As the light dimmed around Dalmar, and the water floor became as mud with the fallen earth, Dalmar jogged behind Lars and caught back up to the rest of the men.
After a brief moment of travel, the corridor made a sharp turn south and light began to creep in from a grate in the ceiling of a large, rounded natural room. Dalmar looked up at the heavy iron grate where the overcast sky far above lit the dirt floor of the cave below. The large boulders in the earth were stacked in a fashion that was not impossible to climb for a normal person, and Dalmar surmised that he might be able to reach to the grate above.
"Damn, that grate looks mighty heavy" said Lars.
"Yeah, too heavy for any of us I'd bet" agreed Dorian.
"I need some rest..." Phillip said sounding fatigued from his earlier power struggle and recent events. "I can probably get it open after that." He continued. Dalmar's eyes scanned the faces of the men, each looking disheartened at the trial before them. Finally, Dalmar realized he was needed, and he spoke.
"Phillip. save your strength. Besides, there may be other traps up there." Dalmar said.
"Maybe, but not likely. It's likely just a matter of moving such a heavy chucnk of metal." Phillip said to Dalmar who nodded in agreement.
"I got this one. Just sit still." Dalmar said as he hoisted himself onto the top of one of the standing boulders.
"Don't be foolish, Zeke. You can't move that grate. It must weigh two hundred pounds at the very least." said Dorian with utter disbelief. Dalmar ignored Dorian's urgings, however, and he continued to climb the large stones that led up to the only visible exit. Within moments, Dalmar had climbed to the top and stood, hunched, underneath the heavy grate and he looked outside through the bars. Dalmar's eyes fell upon the forest somewhere in the areas around Altendon, and he smiled to himself.
"Move away from the center of the room..." Dalmar shouted down to the expectant men below. Dalmar gripped the heavy, round grate of iron in both hands, and with his legs, he pushed against the immense medallion blocking the opening in the ceiling as it broke free of its bonds to the earth around it. Trickling bits of earth and rubble streamed down into the cavern below as Dalmar slid its massive frame to the side with a grunt. Dalmar smiled as he looked down at the agape mouths of his comrades, and then climbed through to the fresh air outside of the cavern below. Dalmar laid back on the soft moss of the glade and breathed heavy for a moment before rolling over onto his belly and looking back into the hole in the ground. "Now, each of you...climb up those rocks and I'll help you out!" Dalmar shouted back down. The sky thundered with an oncoming rain storm above Dalmar's head, and the wind blew as the leaves in the forest swelled around his body. For a moment, Dalmar delighted in the fresh air, thinking to himself that it was glorious to be able to feel the air once again. Then, one by one, the men reached the top of the boulders. Dalmar reached through the hole and lifted them up to the forest floor until everyone was free of the hellish passage that lay beneath the earth. They had won their freedom, and together they rejoiced, kissed the ground around them, and rested before traveling back to the castle.
The rain had begun to fall as the men neared the city, and each of them were soaked with the tears of the heavens. Dorian shivered as he neared the gates of Polias' keep, and each of them had little to say as they entered the castle. Dorian turned to his company of men, and with angry, frustrated tone declared, "We meet back here tomorrow. Get some rest." Dorian turned around and entered the castle without saying a word further. Dalmar looked at Lars, each knowing that Dorian was not happy. Phillip, too, trudged inside the fortress grumbling to himself.
"I don't know about you, Lars, but I think an ale or four is in order." Dalmar said to his axe-wielding comrade. Lars smiled and put his arm around his friend.
"My friend, you may not be from these parts, but I think we speak the same language." Lars said, and the two men entered the castle for the evening.
Invino Veritas
1/8/12
EOF
No comments:
Post a Comment