The Dwarven Rebellion

by J. J. Thompson

  “If you know history, my lord, then you also know that, unlike humans and dwarves, goblins produce many wizards along with their mages and other magic-users. That level of magical power has turned battles in the distant past and we must be mindful of that.”

  “I know, Larin. Why do you think I brought you and Odella along with me?”

  Larin gave the king a skeptical look.

  “There are only two of us, my lord,” he said as he stroked his short beard. “We will do what we can, but...”

  “I have complete faith in you both,” Shandon asserted firmly. “Now, we need to search this cellar, but we'll have to wait for the troops to join us. There are too many dark corners down here for my liking. Everyone stay alert until they arrive.”

  No more than ten minutes had passed before the king and his party heard the clatter of armored boots descending the stairs behind them. Shandon glanced at Jergen and Pieter.

  “They made good time,” he observed.

  “Brokk has trained them well,” Jergen replied approvingly.

  Ellin was the first to reach the bottom of the stairwell. She nodded to the king as she hurried over to stand next to Annia.

  Commander Brokk came down the steps close behind her, followed by a line of troops. He gestured for the warriors to form ranks to the left side of the exit and then he joined the king and the others.

  “My lord,” Brokk said as he saluted crisply. “You have need of us?”

  “I believe so, Commander,” Shandon replied.

  He nodded at the dead goblins with distaste.

  “As you can see, a new foe has joined my son in his rebellion. An old enemy has returned to strike at us.”

  Brokk removed his helmet and glared at the bodies.

  “Goblins!” he exclaimed angrily. “How is this possible? We have not been threatened by these vermin since ancient times.”

  “That is what we have to find out,” the king told him. “And it starts here. I want your troops to scour this level to discover where these two came from. Light some torches to push back the shadows before you begin, though. I don't want any surprises.”

  “At once, my lord,” Brokk replied.

  He strode over to the gathered warriors and began giving orders. Jergen and Pieter stared them for a moment, both dwarves looking pleased.

  “The commander has brought twenty soldiers with him,” Jergen said as he watched the dwarves listening to Brokk's orders. “Well done on his part, I say.”

  “He's cautious,” Pieter told him. “I like that. We are wandering blindly in the dark right now. Better too many troops than too few.”

  Several of the warriors had pulled out torches from pouches on their hips and were lighting them, dispelling the shadows around them. As the king's group watched, squads of four began heading out to search the cellar, one torchbearer leading the way for each squad.

  “Should we join them?” Hallic asked Shandon.

  The king shook his head.

  “Let them do their jobs without worrying about our safety,” he replied as he watched the torches moving around the level. “Your people are now officially the backup, just in case our troops unearth any surprises.”

  Hallic chuckled and glanced at Mel and Annia, both of whom were grinning.

  Shandon raised an eyebrow.

  “Did I say something funny?” he asked them.

  “Somewhat, my lord,” Mel answered. “Historically, rogues have spent a lot more time running away from soldiers than we have working with them. It's just a little amusing that we now find ourselves acting as backup for them, that's all.”

  The king chuckled.

  “Ah, I see. Well, wars sometimes creates strange allies, I suppose. We have a common cause now. We all want to protect the empire from betrayal, both from without and within.”

  “Agreed,” Hallic told him. “Although I have no doubt that when all of this is over and our society goes back to normal, we'll be back to our old roles again.”

  “Aye, well, let's get through this crisis first, shall we?” Shandon said as he followed the groups of soldiers with his eyes. “We'll re-evaluate our relationships later.”

  The group watched as the squads of warriors faded into the darkness, their torches turning into wavering points of light in the distance.

  “Just how big is this place?” Pieter wondered aloud. “Surely it is far larger than the manor above us?”

  “It seems to be,” Annia told him. “But I'm not sure how large it is. Once we had dealt with the goblins, I decided to be careful and not send out any of my people to search the level further. But it must be deeper here than the cellars of the surrounding buildings. My question is why? Why dig so deeply to create such a vast empty space?”

  “History,” Shandon said as he watched the moving points of light.

  “History, my lord?” Annia repeated, sounding puzzled.

  “Aye. This city is one of the most ancient in the empire. Tens of thousands of years ago, perhaps even more, many of the original builders delved deeply when they were constructing the old homes that once stood here in Cindercore. Not for any specific reason,” he added as he looked at the others. “But because they believed that digging deep cellars added a sense of permanence to their buildings. Don't ask me why, though. The history books don't really explain that. I remember thinking that our ancestors were an odd bunch when I was reading about them.” He gestured at the space around them. “It seems that I was right.”

  Commander Brokk had remained with the king's group as his troops spread out around the cellar, but he was frowning at the many torches moving slowly through the far reaches of the cavernous space. He suddenly marched off into the darkness and Shandon watched him leave without comment.

  “Do you think he noticed something?” Jergen asked him.

  “No, but the commander isn't one to sit on the sidelines and miss out on the action,” the king replied. “I suspect that he was simply feeling left out. But don't tell him I said that.”

  Jergen smiled wisely.

  “I won't. I know how he feels. Just standing here is making me jumpy. We should be poking around this place with the rest of the warriors.”

  “Patience,” Pieter told him. “We can't risk Shandon's life just because you're bored.”

  Jergen growled in response but he went back to watching the distant torches in silence.

  “I'm with him,” Mel whispered to her father. “Why are we waiting here? We could easily sneak through this entire place, goblins be damned, and report back to the king in half the time that it's taking those heavy-footed troops of his.”

  “Because this is Shandon's show and we have to do things his way,” Hallic replied under his breath. “But for what it's worth, I agree with you. Now let's try and follow Pieter's advice and practice some patience, hmm?”

  Like the others, Larin had been watching the scattered groups of warriors as they continued to search the cellar. But while they did, he was making small, subtle gestures with his hands and his lips were moving as if he was silently chanting. Odella was leaning on her staff and watching him intently, but she did not say anything to interrupt him.

  A few more minutes passed before Larin suddenly threw up one of his hands as if he was tossing an invisible ball and a spark of light floated up from his fingertips toward the ceiling, growing brighter as it rose.

  The king looked over at the mage in surprise.

  “Larin, what is it?”

  “Trouble, my lord,” Larin replied tersely. “This way.”

  He strode off immediately without another word. Odella hesitated, looking from Shandon to Larin and back again. Her duty was to stay with the king and protect him, but she clearly wanted to go with Larin as well.

  “Do you know what's going on?” the king asked her.

  “No, my lord, but Larin is the most sensitive of all of our people. If he says that there is trouble, I would take him at his word.”

  Shandon gestured at the others.


  “Let's go,” he told them as he hurriedly followed Larin.

  “About time,” Jergen muttered to Pieter, who just rolled his eyes silently.

  Both warriors moved quickly to catch up with the king.

  Annia motioned for her rogues to maintain their protective ring around the king and everyone else moved ahead with Shandon. They were all watching Larin as he strode forward, his robe flowing behind him and the glowing spark floating above him to light his way.

  The mage was walking quickly toward a distant corner of the cellar to the right of the doorway to the stairs. There was one group of soldiers searching in that direction and their flickering torch looked like a firefly in the inky darkness. No one following Larin could see what the squad was doing, but apparently he could because the mage suddenly shouted and began to run.

  “Don't move!” Larin called out urgently, his voice reverberating around the cellar.

  The torch ahead stopped dipping up and down and the squad froze in place. They had heard him.

  Larin reached the soldiers and skidded to a stop with Shandon and the others hard on his heels. The warrior holding a torch raised the brand and all of his squad stared at the mage and the king in surprise.

  “My lord?” one of them said to Shandon. “Is something wrong?”

  “I have no idea,” the king replied. “Larin? What is it?”

  The squad was close to the corner of the cellar. A dozen feet in front of them the walls met, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen, just thick dusty cobwebs and a cracked, uneven floor.

  The mage was staring intently at the corner, but he didn't immediately reply. Shandon looked back at Hallic and the others and shrugged, clearly confused. The squad of warriors simply stood there awaiting orders.

  Larin gestured and his wisp of light moved ahead and grew brighter. It lit up the entire area, but all anyone could see were more cracks on the uneven floor and a slight sheen on one section of the wall. The surface was damp as a trickle of water dribbled slowly from the ceiling above it.

  Shandon walked forward and joined the mage.

  “What is it?” he murmured. “What's wrong?”

  Larin glanced at him.

  “There is an illusion here, my lord,” he replied quietly. “I am trying to unravel it without triggering any traps that might have been left for someone to stumble across. Hopefully, whoever left the spell did not expect a mage to find it first. I hurried to reach your soldiers just in case they set it off.”

  “Ah, I see. Thank you for that. Take all the time you need.”

  “It won't be long, my lord,” Larin assured him. “Odella? Would you join me please?”

  Shandon stepped back and the two mages began conferring in hushed voices.

  “What's happening?” Jergen asked the king.

  “Let's all move back a bit further,” he said as he gestured at the group.

  All of them stepped back until they stood about twenty feet behind the two mages.

  “Larin says that someone has left an illusion behind them,” Shandon told everyone. “I'm guessing that means that this is where the goblins entered the cellar. We'll have to allow him and Odella to counter the spell before we can move forward.”

  Commander Brokk joined them a moment later, having seen the commotion from the other end of the cellar. He ordered his soldiers to move even further back and then watched as the mages worked to remove the illusion spell.

  “It's rather complicated, isn't it?” Odella observed as Larin frowned at the dusty corner. “I can feel it like a mass of crisscrossing threads humming with energy.”

  “Yes. A spider's web of dark magic,” he replied. “Do you have a shield spell prepared?”

  She looked at Larin in surprise.

  “I always do in dangerous circumstances like these,” she assured him.

  “Good. Move back with the king and stand ready. If there are any traps here, I may set them off when I collapse the spell. It will take too long to unravel it, so I'm simply going to cancel it.”

  “Larin!” Odella exclaimed. “Is there no other way? Surely you can take the time to...”

  He shook his head.

  “You saw those goblins,” he replied. “Time is a luxury that we simply do not have. Not anymore. I'll be fine. Now please, step back and protect Shandon. If he falls, all of this will have been for nothing and Cindra will win. And that is something that you and I cannot allow. We are partly responsible for her, after all.”

  “I would argue that point,” Odella said caustically, “but that can wait for another time. Very well. Be careful, my friend.”

  She hurried back to the king.

  “What's he doing?” Shandon asked her.

  “Larin is going to counteract the illusion spell, my lord,” Odella told him. “It would be prudent for you and everyone else to move well back, just in case.”

  “In case what?” Jergen asked her, puzzled.

  “In case it blows up,” she replied flatly. “There may be a trap spell buried beneath the illusion. Larin believes that the only way forward is to cancel the main spell, which may set off a secondary spell, if there is one.”

  There were several gasps from the people watching Larin, and Shandon looked around at the others.

  “Everyone, move back. Now!” he barked.

  “How far?” Pieter asked Odella.

  She shrugged.

  “As far as you can,” she replied. “I would recommend that we head back to the bottom of the stairs and wait there.”

  “What? That far?”

  The king looked at Odella doubtfully.

  “Surely even a magical trap wouldn't be that powerful, would it?” he asked her.

  “We are dealing with goblin magic here, my lord,” she said. “Which means that I cannot answer you. How ruthless do the history books say that those creatures are?”

  Shandon stared at her for a moment before turning to gesture urgently at the others.

  “Back to the stairs,” he ordered. “Hurry!”

  The rogues and warriors, led by Brokk, trotted back toward the stairwell, followed by the king and everyone else. Larin was left alone and, when the group had reached the exit, all they could see of him was the lonely wisp of light floating near the ceiling.

  The commander sent one of his warriors across the cellar to bring back the other squads, just in case any of them wandered too closely to Larin and the potential danger of what he was doing. When they had all returned, Brokk organized them into ranks and then waited with the rest for whatever the mage would do.

  “It's been at least ten minutes,” Pieter observed. “Is it possible that Larin can't remove the illusion?”

  He looked at Odella, who could only shrug.

  “Anything is possible,” she replied as she watched the distant point of light. “What is more likely is that he has already broken the illusion spell and now he's trying to counteract a trap. Perhaps more than one. I cannot tell from here.”

  Suddenly the light in the far corner went out, leaving most of the cellar in almost complete darkness. Odella gasped along with many of the other watchers as they all stared into the darkness in confusion.

  “What's happened?” Shandon asked urgently.

  “I don't know, my lord. I can't sense anything specific from this distance.”

  An sudden explosion of displaced air scattered the group and Pieter stumbled back, falling to his knees. The layer of dust on the floor was blown in all directions and left a thick, gritty fog hanging in the air.

  Jergen let out a blistering string of curses as the king reached down and helped Pieter to his feet.

  “What in the Seven Hells just happened?” Shandon exclaimed, looking around at the others.

  He gasped in surprise as the dust began to settle. Larin was standing no more than ten feet away. He was staring at Shandon with an unreadable expression on his face. A flickering shield surrounded him; a magical barrier that had flung the air and dirt away from
the mage as he Gated. The shield collapsed and left a strong smell of ozone lingering in the air.

  “Larin? Why did you Gate?” Odella asked him urgently.

  “A little warning would have been nice,” Jergen complained. “If you didn't feel like walking back, you might have popped in a little further away.”

  Hallic was watching Larin's face and he moved forward to look closely at the mage.

  “What is it?” he asked him sharply. “What's wrong?”

  “There was no magical trap beneath the illusion spell,” Larin replied as he looked past Hallic to stare at the king. “But there was a guard.”

  “A guard? What guard? More goblins?”

  “No, my lord. Something much worse.”

  The ground trembled and a low, unearthly moaning sound loud enough to shake loose debris from the ceiling above them reverberated across the cellar. In the far corner, a bright red glow appeared. It seemed to be coming from beneath the floor itself.

  “It's a magma wyrm.”

  Chapter 30

  An eye-seering burst of crimson light blazed across the room as a massive serpentine shape burst from the ground, bellowing with rage.

  “A magma wyrm? But I thought they were extinct!” Pieter exclaimed in confusion.

  “Apparently someone forgot to tell that monster,” Shandon replied dryly. “Brokk! Move your troops into a defensive formation!”

  The commander began barking orders to the soldiers, many of whom were staring at the far corner in shock. Their training took over and they moved quickly to stand between the king's party and the wyrm. They drew their weapons and shields and settled into two ranks of ten each. Then they held their positions and waited for further orders.

  Annia gathered her rogues around her and gave them their instructions. Hallic moved over to join them.

  “Sorry to interrupt you, Annia,” he said as he looked around at the group. “But none of us can get too close to that monster without armor. I'm sure that most of you have heard stories about those wyrms. Their hides radiate so much heat that they can melt solid rock. Unless some of you have missile weapons, I suggest that you stay well away from it.”