Battleborne Book 2: Wrack and Ruin

by Dave Willmarth

  “There you go.” Max grinned at him. “One near the palace entry, if our section doesn’t already have a view of that. Another near the main gate, since we seem to be walking a good distance away from it. I’ll leave the selection up to you, but I recommend choosing something that will see a lot of traffic, and where alert eyes and ears can learn things. Like, a livery stable near the gate? Or a tavern, or an emporium that sells a wide range of goods.”

  “Very clever.” The dwarf nodded. “I would go with a trade broker’s warehouse. When caravans begin to pass through again, they’ll stop in to see about pickin’ up cargo, or guards, or contracts, as well as information about where they might sell their own cargo.”

  “Now you’re speaking my language.” Max nodded. “But won’t the merchants object? It would seem like they’d want that job.”

  “Oh, there will be a dozen or more brokers in the city once it be up and runnin’.” Enoch assured him. A moment later he stopped and waved his hand. “This’d be the edge o’ your territory.”

  Max looked around. They stood at the intersection of two roads, one wide enough for three wagons, the other barely wide enough for two. The wider road ran from the wall inward toward the keep like the spoke of a wheel. The buildings on the side that Enoch indicated were nothing special, a bunch of squat one-story housing and small storefronts. Max didn’t see the attraction.

  Enoch saw the doubtful look on his face, and explained. “Imagine all along this side o’ the street, we demolish these buildings and construct a wall. From the outer wall almost all the way to the keep.” He brought out a parchment with a rough diagram of the city, one large pie wedge marked it bolder lines. Pointing to the intersection where they stood, he said, “We can create a city within the city. Sovereign territory of Stormhaven, accessible only with permission, if ye like. Able to be shut off and defended if ye gets grumpy with the merchants, or the city begins to fall to attack.”

  Max was intrigued. He looked at the drawing more carefully. “Alright, I like the concept. But why this particular section of the city?”

  “Ah, for that, we’ll need to go downstairs.” The dwarf led him down two more streets, deeper into what would be their territory. Stopping in front of a plain looking two story building, Enoch said, “I were passin’ down this street, not much interested in the area. There be a more practical section on the other side o’ the city, with a park, what was obviously a very large inn, a fancy house that you could have made yer home. But I happened to glance up and see this.” He pointed to the building’s front door. Max and the others stared at it, not comprehending.

  “There be dwarven runes above the door.” Enoch supplied, stepping closer. “Ancient runes, so old I can’t even read ‘em. Well, mostly.” He pointed to one particular rune near the center. “That one be familiar enough, and it means door.”

  “So… a rune that says door, above a door?” Smitty raised an eyebrow at the dwarf.

  “Ha! Right, it struck me as funny as well. But it got me curious enough to check inside.” The dwarf entered the building, then walked through a front room and into what looked like a kitchen area in the back. There was a stone stairway leading downward, and the group followed him down. All but Dylan, who didn’t want to leave Princess alone outside.

  Down in the cellar, Dalia pushed her ever present light globe out to the center of the room. They were in a nondescript cellar, maybe thirty paces square. Enoch walked across toward the back wall. “I been a merchant most o’ me life. Haven’t worked the stone in a mine since I was a wee lad, some two hundred years ago. But I still be a dwarf, and the stone still speaks to me blood.” He placed his hand on the wall, and it lit up. Dwarven runes formed an arch about ten feet high, eight feet wide. After a moment, the wall within the arch simply disappeared. Beyond it was a small room, then a ramp leading downward.

  Dalia gasped. “The old magic?”

  “Aye, lass. That be me own thinkin’ as well. I can’t pretend to know much about it, it were a subject that bored me in school. But if this be part o’ the lost magic…”

  Dalia turned to Max. “Max! Ye must protect this! If this be what it seems, Ironhand would give ye half o’ Darkholm for its secrets.” She paused and grinned. “Old Puckerface would buy ye an entire cellar o’ Firebelly’s fer the chance to study it.”

  “Damn.” Max whistled. “What exactly is it?”

  Dalia shook her head. “There be a legend that we dwarves once possessed powerful magic. Harnessed the power o’ the earth to do wondrous things. The spells were based on runes, and Runemasters were the most respected among our people. Elevated even over Master Smiths.”

  Enoch nodded. “Some were said to be able to move through time, or cause great ships to float through the air. The school where they trained up the young ones was said to be a floating town that traveled the remote lands, never stayin’ in one place fer long, accessible only by portal, or flyin’ mounts.”

  “We still have magic, o’ course, as ye seen. But what we can do now be a small fraction o’ what the Runemasters could do.” Her face fell as she continued. “There was a war, and the clans fought amongst themselves. The kings o’ each clan bade their Runemasters to create more and more powerful weapons to use against their cousins. Blood ran through the mountains, and whole forests were laid waste. Dwarvenkind, once one o’ the most numerous and powerful o’ the races, was reduced to a mere fraction of what it had been. Entire clans were wiped out, wee ones slaughtered to prevent them from polluting other bloodlines.” Dalia sniffed, and her voice caught.

  Enoch took over. “It were a shameful thing. Some say our kings were under a compulsion o’ some kind. We may never know what caused it, or why so many set aside their honor and committed such despicable acts. What we do know is that the Runemasters could no’ stand their shame. It were them that pulled down entire mountains with their magic, killin’ thousands o’ their own people in a day. They left their kings and clans behind, takin’ all knowledge of their magic with ‘em.”

  Max looked at the still glowing runes of the archway. “So if these runes are part of that old magic… what’s to stop the same thing from happening again? If I were to allow Ironhand’s scholars or mages to study this, what’s to stop them from using it against other clans to consolidate power?”

  Dalia’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open. Enoch growled and balled his fists, taking a step closer to Max, his face contorted in anger. “Ye’ll not say such a thing about me king again, or I’ll make ye bleed despite me oath!”

  Dalia quickly stepped in front of the other dwarf, looking up at Max. “Max, that were a grave insult. The great war be our people’s deepest shame. King Ironhand would sooner cut off his own legs than attack one o’ his cousins.”

  Max was conflicted. He wanted to apologize for his thoughtless words. Ironhand and the other dwarves had all acted honorably toward him from his first day in their city. Even when he practically stole Agnor’s crown and city from them. But kings did not apologize, especially for asking necessary questions.

  He sighed. “I am sorry, Enoch, Dalia. I meant no insult. I’m just trying to figure out how dangerous this magic might be.”

  Both dwarves relaxed, and Enoch bowed his head. “I be sorry as well, Max.” He turned toward the arch. “Like any tool, this magic could be used fer great benefit, as well as great evil.” He paused, looking at Max. “I’ll make no mention o’ this to King Ironhand until ye tell me to.”

  “Thank you Enoch.” Max looked at the ramp. “What’s down there?”

  “Dunno. I dared not pass beyond the arch. I were alone, and wasn’t sure it would open from the other side once I passed through. Didn’t want to be trapped wherever that leads.”

  “Good thinking.” Max thought back to his recent solo adventure through the portals, and how foolish it had been to go alone. The elder dwarf had shown wisdom in his restraint, though Max could tell he was itching to know what was beyond the arch. “Alright, let’s explore. F
irst things first. How did you activate it? Is it just by touch?”

  “Aye, ye touch this rune here. It be the same one as above the door outside.”

  “Okay, turn it off. I want to test something.”

  Enoch did as he was told, placing his hand on the rune. The wall in front of them flashed back into existence, and the runes faded. When the glow was gone, Max could barely make out the faintest scratches in the stone where the runes had been, and only because he knew they were there.

  Reaching out, he placed his hand on the same rune. Nothing happened. “Is there a timer? A cooldown?” He asked the dwarves. “Maybe only dwarves can activate it?”

  In answer, Dalia stepped forward and placed her hand on the rune. It instantly glowed again, the arch forming and the wall disappearing. She deactivated it again and removed her hand.

  “So, maybe it takes dwarven blood to trigger the rune.” Max mused aloud. “Or, earth magic? Smitty, Nessa, please try to activate it.”

  Both the orc and the panthera tried their luck, to no avail.

  “Alright, for now let’s assume this is a dwarves only exclusive club. Now let’s address Enoch’s concern about the other side. Dalia, please activate the arch and step through. See if you can close it from the other side. If you can, we’ll wait one minute for you to open it again. If you don’t, Enoch will open it from this side.

  Nodding her agreement, Dalia opened and stepped through the portal. She looked around for a moment, then reached to touch the wall on the other side. The arch disappeared, and the wall remained solid for about ten seconds before opening back up again. Dalia smiled and waved from the other side.

  “Alright, does that ease your concerns, Enoch?”

  “Aye, let’s go see what’s down there!” The dwarf grinned, already moving toward the arch.

  “Smitty, run upstairs and let Dylan know where we’re going. Tell him no one enters this building, no matter what.”

  “Roger that, boss.” The orc sprinted across the cellar and up the stairs, already yelling for Dylan. He returned a minute later, chuckling. “Dylan parked Princess right in front of the door. I don’t think we need to worry about company.”

  “Heh. Okay good, let’s go.” Max stepped through and joined Dalia and Enoch on the other side. He immediately noticed it was a good deal cooler on that side. Once the others were through, Dalia closed the arch, and Nessa led the way down the ramp. She moved slowly, scanning for traps as she descended the gradual slope. The ramp was roughly eight feet wide, the same as the arch, and the floor and walls were impossibly smooth. Nessa found no traps as they descended, curving in a wide spiral to their left almost like a parking garage ramp, and before long they were in a natural cavern that Enoch informed them was a hundred feet below the cellar they’d started in.

  Max was pretty sure they hadn’t walked that far down the mildly sloped ramp. “How did we get so deep? If I had to guess, we’ve only walked downward about a quarter of that. Two or three stories, maybe.”

  Enoch nodded. “Aye, that first step were a big one. The runes didn’t just open the wall. When we stepped through, we teleported nearly straight down at the same time.” Max looked at Dalia, who nodded in confirmation. Not for the first time, Max wished he’d inherited that dwarven sense of location and direction.

  The cavern ahead of them wasn’t that large, but it was packed with things to see! Across the back of the cavern was a row of six crude statues, each standing fifteen feet tall, with shoulders at least six feet wide, and arms that hung nearly to the ground. Max thought they might be depictions of rock trolls, or some other kind of underground beast. In front of them were several rows of long, low stone buildings with narrow slots for windows. Off to their left was a small waterfall that fell into a man-made, or probably dwarf-made cistern with low walls that were raised up maybe three feet above the floor level. A gate in the wall sat open, allowing the water to fall into a deep stream bed that was cut across the floor, to disappear through another gate set directly into the cavern’s wall. Smitty spotted it about the same time as Max.

  “If you closed that gate, this place would flood pretty quickly.”

  Enoch shook his head, pointing to another gate in the wall about forty five degrees to the right of the first, and a closed gate that could be seen set into the side of the stream bed’s wall. “It be a diverter. Aye, ye could close that open gate and flood this place all the way up to the portal. Or ye could open them other gates n divert the water in that direction.” He pointed to the open gate. “That one leads under the city, me guess is that it feeds the wells. If ye closed it, and opened the others, ye could send the water off away from the city, causin’ everyone above to get a mite thirsty.”

  “Why would you want to deprive your own city of water?” Nessa asked.

  Max answered first. “This is a fallback position. If the city were attacked and overrun, whomever constructed this could retreat down here, divert the water, and wait for the enemy to get thirsty enough to leave.” He looked around the cavern. “My guess is there’s another exit down here somewhere, one that would let them escape completely, or rally and attack their enemies from behind. Maybe disrupt any supply caravans bringing water.”

  “Aye, that be me own thinkin’ as well. Especially with these big baddies here to help em fight!” Enoch pointed toward the back wall. Max followed his finger, scanning the area for any movement.

  It took a moment, but he realized the dwarf was pointing to the statues. He focused on one, then whistled when Examine kicked in. “Those things are…” He didn’t know how to finish his thought.

  Battle Golem

  Level 45

  Health: 100,000/100,000

  “Way better tanks than our sweet young ogre.” Smitty finished for him. “A hundred thousand health? Imagine that thing stomping through the streets above, just shrugging off hits as it crushed buildings and punted grey dwarf warriors a hundred yards.” Smitty paused, looking at Max, and a grin spread across his face. “Never let Dylan get control of these bad boys. If he starts teaching ‘em dance moves, they could shake the place to the ground!”

  Ignoring his corporal, Max began to walk the rest of the way down the ramp onto the cavern floor. As he passed the nearest of the buildings, he glanced through the open door. The first thing he noticed was that the wall, and the stone door, were both nearly two feet thick. The window slots were placed about six feet apart, and were cross-shaped, with vertical and horizontal openings. This would give a defender on the inside with a crossbow a wider field of fire. A quick check confirmed that the buildings facing each other on his left and right had staggered door and window locations, making the space he was standing in a kill zone with very few, if any, safe spots. It made his spine itch to stroll through there, a flashback of mortar rounds causing him to stumble slightly before he recovered.

  Leading the group past the buildings, Max stepped up closer to one of the golems. His pulse quickened, and he felt a twinge of fear as he looked up at its bulk. Each of its stone hands could easily engulf and crush him. Its feet were the size of bumper cars, large enough to crush two or three frontline tanks, if they were stupid enough to try and hold their position. Everything about this monster screamed power and danger.

  Enoch stepped up next to him, grinning like a madman. “With these, ye could flatten the orc city in an hour.”

  Max agreed, but that brought up a concern. There were innocent civilians in that city. “How do you control them?”

  “I dunno.” The dwarf shook his head, leaning backward to stare up at the golem’s face. “That secret be lost with the rest o’ their magic.” He raised a hand as if to touch its foot, then paused. “Ye mind?”

  “Go right ahead. Just don’t piss it off.” Max nodded.

  Enoch set his hand tentatively on the golem’s foot, ready to yank it back if it moved. Max saw it was shaking slightly, and he didn’t blame the dwarf one bit. A moment later, the dwarf closed his eyes, then smiled and withdrew his han
d. “It give’d me the option to claim this place. I did not presume, as this be your property.”

  Max reached forward and touched the foot as well, but nothing happened. “Nope. Just like the arch. I must not have the right blood.”

  “Lemme try.” Dalia stepped forward, much more sure of herself since the other two hadn’t been harmed. She placed her hand on the foot and closed her eyes. A moment later, Max got a notification.

  Congratulations! You have taken ownership of Guild Outpost 42!

  You now have access to all facility resources, and can assign control to others.

  This includes operational control of doors, gates, portals, and battle golems.

  Warning! As you are not a registered Guild Officer, a notification of transfer

  has been sent to Guild Headquarters.

  “Oh, no.” Red muttered from atop Max’s shoulder, causing all but Enoch to look her way. “If the Guild still exists, ya might have just made a powerful enemy, Max.”

  Impatient, Enoch watched Dalia, his foot tapping on the stone. When she in turn looked up at Max, her face gone white with fear, Enoch asked, “What? What happened?”

  “I… I claimed this place in Max’s name.” Dalia whispered.

  Max read the notification aloud to everyone, and Enoch actually took a few steps backward, looking from the golems to the exit ramp back to the arch, as if considering making a run for it. Unwittingly mimicking Red, he said, “Oh, no.”

  Max was barely listening, as he’d noticed something the others hadn’t, yet. The eyes of all six golems had just lit up, glowing a pulsing red. A moment later, the others couldn’t help but notice as well.

  With a grinding of stone on stone, the heads of all six golems shifted to focus on Max.

  Chapter 21

  Lagrass crawled out from under a large fir tree, where he had taken refuge for the night. His bed had been uncomfortable, a hundred tiny dead needles poking at him anytime he moved. He’d had to run without grabbing his blankets, or any of the items he’d kept in the cellar. All he owned now was his knife, which he’d used to kill the woman who loaned it to him, his clothes, the coins and items he’d looted from his victims.