Downfall ds-1

by Jean Rabe

  Dhamon feinted to his right, the creature following him with both arms stretching out as far as it could reach. Then he spun to his left, crouched beneath the beast's claws, and drove his blade up, running the creature through. Blood spilled out, releasing with it the overpowering smell of decaying leaves. Dhamon gagged and stepped back, tugging the sword free and expecting to watch the creature fall.

  Instead, it screamed maddeningly and clutched at the wound, eyes darting from the blood that flowed over its claws to Dhamon.

  "Pigs, lover!" Rikali shouted. "Just kill the beastie and be done with it!"

  "Tough to kill," Dhamon grumbled as he made a move to step forward again.

  "My turn!" Maldred cut in. The big man darted up, his great two-handed sword held above his shoulder. "Stay low!" he called to Dhamon as he swept the blade in a high, wide arc. The metal shimmered as it connected with the beast's flesh, then it continued on, passing through the neck. The head plopped to the floor, the creature's body falling a heartbeat later.

  "Impressive," Dhamon stated.

  "Guess the two of you didn't need any help," Fiona said. She brought the torch nearer so she could get a better look at the creature. She glance at Maldred, then at Dhamon. "But I still think you were a bit hasty. It might not have been hostile. Dhamon attacked it first. Provoked it with the arrows. Not everything that looks different from us is an enemy."

  The half-elf sheathed her knife. "It was mean, all right. And ugly. What were you gonna do, Fee-oh-na? Talk it to death? Or maybe invite it to join the Solamnic Knights?"

  The mariner padded up to Fiona's side, glaive grasped tightly in his hands. He stared at Maldred's sword, the dark green blood on it. He watched the big man pull a cloth from his pocket and wipe the blood off, pausing to sniff the cloth before tucking it into his belt.

  "Smells very strongly of copper," he commented to the mariner.

  "Blood is blood, doesn't matter what it smells like, or what color it is. At least the thing's dead." After a moment's pause, Rig nodded to the two-handed sword. "Nice blade."

  "It was a gift from Donnag. To replace a weapon I lost many days ago."

  The mariner prized weapons. The glaive he carried was magicked, able to pass through armor as if it were parchment. And he had a penchant for collecting weapons, especially coveting enchanted ones. He glanced at Maldred's blade again, wondering if there might be some magic about it because it so easily cut through the creature. Shrugging, he quickly decided he didn't care; if it was a gift from Lord Donnag, it wasn't anything he was interested in. Then Rig knelt by the slain creature and examined its feet. "Had to have been one of those giants they were talking about. It would make big enough tracks for a common man to think it a giant."

  "Probably," Dhamon said, padding closer. "But we might as well make sure. We can check down those alcoves, see if we can find any goat carcasses and…" The tingling sensation was back for just an instant. Was something else watching him? He turned and glanced at Rikali.

  The half-elf was against the cavern wall, studying some of the carved images of dwarven children, tracing something with her fingers and making faces. For an instant it looked like one of the carved heads was making a face back. Dhamon blinked and looked closer.

  "Riki!" He warned.

  Too late! A second beast separated from the wall and grabbed for the half-elf, one claw completely circling her slender waist and raising her above the floor. As Dhamon dashed forward, the creature drew the other claw to her throat and growled loudly.

  Dhamon skidded to a stop,the others behind him.

  Rikali struggled frantically, but couldn't break the thing's grip. It was larger than the first, though not quite as tall. It had a wide chest and a big pot belly. Its legs were thick like tree trunks, and its feet were long and ended in claws that curled in on themselves. It met Dhamon's gaze, and as he inched forward it squeezed Rikali tighter. She screamed.

  "Stop!" Maldred called to Dhamon. "It's threatening us."

  "Aye," Dhamon returned. "That's clear enough. We come any closer and it kills her, it seems." Behind him, he heard a soft «shushing» sound, recognizing it as Rig tugging daggers free.

  "It probably wants us to leave," Maldred continued. "Doesn't want to end up dead like its friend. Fiona's right. We're the intruders. But if we leave…"

  "It'll probably still kill Riki," Dhamon finished. With that, he sprang toward the creature, pulling his sword over his shoulder and swinging hard, biting deep into the beast's side. He jumped back quickly. The creature howled in surprise and savagely flung the half-elf to the ground, stepping on her as it advanced on Dhamon.

  Fiona dropped the torch and rushed forward, and found herself being flung toward one of the pillars by yet another creature. This third beast had also emerged from the walls, shrugging off its camouflage and soundly striking the Solamnic Knight again, sending her weapon and the torch flying. The torch sputtered at the entrance, making it more difficult to see the two creatures.

  Stunned, Fiona made it to her knees and shook her head to clear her senses.

  "By all the vanished gods, what are these things?" Rig cried in disbelief as he peered into the shadows and pivoted to face the creature that was pressing its attack on Fiona. The mariner swept the glaive out, completely slicing through an arm and lodging the crescent blade in the thing's ribcage. "They certainly aren't true giants."

  Unlike its dead brother, this creature didn't cry in pain. It only glanced at the stump where its arm had been, at the blood spurting from it, and at the glaive lodged deep in its flesh. It snarled once at the mariner and tugged the weapon free with its remaining hand, tossing it far across the cavern where the weapon was lost in the darkness. Then the beast returned its attention to Fiona, who was just now struggling to her feet.

  "What are these things?" the mariner repeated as he drew a long sword and a dagger and advanced again. Fiona stepped back to give Rig fighting room, as she scanned the floor for her sword.

  Despite its grievous wounds, still the creature fought fiercely, reaching out with its remaining arm toward the mariner. Rig's sword was held high above his head, and was coming down like an executioner's axe. With all of his strength behind it, the blade cleaved the creature's other arm. Without pause, the mariner moved in closer and repeatedly drove a dagger into its stomach, groaning when green blood erupted to splatter him. It fell to its knees, but refused to die.

  Meanwhile, Maldred was concentrating on the other creature, drawing it away from Rikali and giving Dhamon a chance to slip around behind it.

  Dhamon scooped up one of Rikali's daggers and leapt in, intending to stab the beast in the back. The creature sensed him, swiping with one claw at Maldred, then whirling and clawing at Dhamon.

  Dhamon ducked beneath the beast's arms and jabbed upward into its rib cage with the dagger, while in the same motion he swung the sword into the thing's thigh. Dark green blood spattered down at him, blinding him. But he thrust and swung again and again, even as Maldred came at it from the other side.

  Out of the corner of its eye, the beast spotted Rikali, who was grumbling and sluggishly picking herself up. Ignoring Dhamon and Maldred, the creature moved the fight toward her, viciously kicking out with a leg and raking its curled nails across her leg. She gasped and fell back.

  "Pigs! Can't the two of you kill that beastie!"

  "Trying," Dhamon replied, as he drove the dagger so deep into its stomach it was lodged there.

  At the same time, Maldred swung down hard, slicing through the creature's leg and crippling it. As the beast fell and twitched on the floor, the big man continued to slash at it. Dhamon crouched over it and plunged his sword into where he guessed its heart would be, slamming his eyes shut as more blood spurted on him.

  Behind them, the mariner continued to struggle with his creature.

  "Tough to kill!" Rig shouted. Though the beast had no arms, it still lunged toward him, crawling on its knees and snapping. It managed to stand, and as Rig stepped bac
k to ready another swing, it kicked out with a clawed foot.

  Fiona recovered her blade and joined him.

  "No harmful intent, huh?" he mused to her as, exhausted, he shoved the long sword through its stomach. The creature sagged forward onto Rig, toppling him and burying him beneath its heavy body. Fiona rolled the thing off him, and the mariner got to his feet, stabbing it one more time to make sure it was dead.

  "What a mess," the mariner observed, plucking at his blood-soaked shirt. Then he headed toward where the creature had thrown his glaive. "Ah, here it is."

  Meanwhile, Rikali was holding her throat and coughing violently. "Pigs!" she spat. "I thought that horrible beast was going to kill me!" She shook out her arms and legs and stumbled toward Dhamon. "But you saved me, lover." She kissed him loudly on his cheek, then bent over the creature, with some effort tugging the dagger free. "This is mine!" she said, waving the dagger at the body.

  Dhamon sheathed his sword and studied the wall the creatures had been hiding against. There were no hidden niches he could find. Their coloration seemed to be all the camouflage they needed.

  Rig was poking at the wall with the butt-end of the glaive, making sure there were no further surprises. Fiona had rescued the torch and held it high behind him.

  "Three of them," Rig said, after he'd checked all of the walls. "Just like Kulp's folks said they'd spotted tracks for. Guess that means you can come down now, Fetch." He looked up at the kobold, still clinging to the pillar. But the kobold shook his head, gesturing wildly. "We got them all. You're safe."

  Fetch shook his head even more exaggeratedly, almost comically.

  "He's right," Rikali said, her face paler than normal. "We didn't get them." The half-elf pointed to the first one that had been slain, the decapitated one.

  The head and body had somehow moved toward each other, and the companions stared as the two pieces began to reattach themselves. The rocky-hued flesh flowed like water from the stump that had been its neck, capturing the base of the head and adjusting it until it fit properly. At the same time, the wounds on the rest of its body were closing. The chest began to rise and fall regularly, and the eyelids fluttered open. A moment later it was climbing to its feet, snarling.

  Maldred rushed forward, tugging his sword free and swinging.

  "This one, too!" Dhamon pointed. Then he turned and joined Maldred to fight the creature who had raised itself from the dead.

  The armless body of the creature Rig had slain was twitching, the wounds on its chest and stomach sealing as they watched. Its face was drawn together in concentration. A barely discernible «skritching» sound came from nearby.

  "In the name of Vinus Solamnus," Fiona hushed. "Look at this."

  The noise was made by claws moving across the tiled floor. The arms the mariner had cut off the downed creature were crawling back toward the body. They moved purposefully, arranging themselves against the shoulders, the skin flowing to reattach them.

  "Awh…" Rig grumbled. "They're definitely not giants. They're damnable trolls." He stomped forward, pinning one of the wriggling arms beneath his boot, and picking up the other and yanking it away from the shoulder before it could completely reattach. He heaved it out of the cave. Then he drew his sword and struck the torso again and again, sending a shower of blood spraying in the cave. "Keep hitting them," he explained between swings, "or they'll come back to life."

  "I thought trolls were supposed to be green," Fiona said as she moved to the third creature, which Maldred had sliced the leg off of. The leg was rolling toward the body, and she thrust the flame at it and watched the skin bubble and pop.

  "Well, most are," Dhamon said, as he and Maldred simultaneously skewered their foe. "Good idea, what you're doing, Fiona. You can burn trolls. They can't come back to life if they're cinders. Bring your torch over here when you're done."

  "I thought these stinking things were only found in swamps and forests," she continued. Her free hand drew her sword and she hacked at her target, which was futilely attempting to hobble away. She heard movement behind her and whirled, thinking it another troll coming up behind her. It was the half-elf, edging closer for a better look.

  But the moment's distraction served to the troll's advantage. It reached a hand out and swiped at Fiona's face, the claws digging into her cheek and causing her to cry out. She spun back instinctively, swinging hard and slicing through the creature's arm at its elbow. The claws remained attached to her face, as if the limb had a life of its own.

  "That's disgusting," the half-elf spat, as she tugged the arm free, taking some of Fiona's flesh with it. Then she dropped the limb to the cavern floor and snatched the torch from the Solamnic, thrusting the flame to the arm and gagging at the smell of the burning troll flesh.

  "Damnable beast!" Fiona cursed. Her free hand held over her injured cheek, she swung at the creature more fiercely, severing its other arm. It howled angrily at her and tried to roll away, but she pressed her attack, repeatedly hacking at it until it was still. Then she threw the dismembered pieces away from the torso and glanced about for her torch.

  The half-elf had carried it to Dhamon, who was burning the troll he and Maldred had slain for the second time. The Solamnic reached for her backpack, retrieved a second torch, and quickly lit it and went to work.

  Behind her, Rig was calling for some fire.

  "Yuck." This came from the half-elf, who had picked up a troll foot, the toes of which were jerking. She tossed it Fiona's way, and busied herself by retrieving the other pieces the Solamnic had scattered, and complaining each time she found something that wriggled.

  "Here!" Fetch hollered. "Look over here!" He was gesturing toward the base of the pillar he clung to. A head had rolled there, and was continuing to roll toward the entrance as if it were attempting to make an escape.

  "I'll get it," Rig returned. He tromped over to the pillar and hauled back on his leg, intending to kick the head out of the cave.

  "Stop!" Dhamon brought his torch over and applied it to the head, grimacing when it opened its mouth and screeched. "There are tales that amputated troll limbs can regrow entire bodies."

  "Since when did you believe everything you heard?" The mariner brushed by him and checked on Fiona.

  It took the better part of an hour to cut up the trolls and burn them in a large bonfire, which made the cavern reek of charred flesh.

  "I'm not certain we got all the pieces," Dhamon said as they stood at the cavern entrance, where everyone had retreated for clean air. He kept his eyes trained on the blaze, occasionally glancing to the walls and the pillars, where the carved dwarven images were more illuminated now.

  Then, while Maldred and Rig took turns watching the fire as it dwindled, using their swords to push back fingers and feet that tried to crawl away, Dhamon tended to Fiona.

  "It might scar," Dhamon told her as he cleansed her torn cheek with a little of his alcohol. "But the healer in Bloten, Grim Kedar, is amazing. He might be able to help you."

  "I will be fine."

  "You're cut to the bone. I'd like him to look at you. No telling if you might get some infection or disease. You shouldn't take any chances with something like this. Those creatures' claws were filthy."

  "I'm surprised you care."

  "I don't," he said flatly. "But it's pretty clear that Maldred does."

  "Fine. All right then. I'll see this Grim Kedar fellow when we return to Bloten."

  Rikali glided up to the pair. "Oh, I don't know, lover, I think a scar would give the Lady Knight a bit more character." Then the half-elf glided away, before Fiona could think to reply. Dhamon stifled a chuckle.

  "Couldn't you have done that outside?" Fetch asked the companions, finally climbing down from the pillar and holding his nose. He pointed to the pile of smoldering ashes. He had refused to budge until he was positive the trolls would not be coming back to life. The kobold waved his hand in front of his face. "It stinks worse'n me."

  "That's debatable," said the mariner.
"Anyway, it's still raining, so we couldn't've burned them outside." He sharply added, "And thanks for all your help with this." He gestured at the smoldering remains.

  "Any time." The kobold wandered away, inspecting the altar Rikali was sitting on, ogling his reflected face in its smooth surface for a few minutes before getting bored with that activity and disappearing to explore one of the alcoves.

  "Most certainly these were the ‘giants' the villagers were being pestered by," Rig said after several minutes of silence. "Don't have any souvenirs from them to show Donnag as proof we fixed the Knollsbank problem, though." He glanced at Maldred. "Will the ogre take our word?"

  "A better question," interjected Fiona, "is will he keep his?"

  "He will." Maldred was looking out at the dark gray sky. There was no hint of light, telling him the sun had set more than an hour ago. "Either the trolls were trapped in here and got out when this fissure opened, or they've been in the mountains a while and started after the goats when whatever it was they were eating ran out-or was washed away by all this rain."

  "Does it matter?" Rikali asked. "The beasties're dead. And we call this job done, pry the gems out of the pillars, and get out of here. Besides, we're…"

  "They were the giants for certain!" Fetch was dragging the carcass of a kid into the chamber. "All sorts of bones back there. An' some stairs. But I wasn't going down them alone." He paused and dropped the bones. "Just in case there're more of them trolls."

  Maldred motioned for Fiona, plucked another torch from her backpack. "We ought to make sure there aren't three more." Softer, for her ears alone, he added, "You are indeed an impressive warrior, Lady Knight. I watched you wield your blade. A match for any man I know. Probably any two."

  "It shouldn't matter if there are more." Dhamon snatched up the torch they'd used to light the troll bonfire. "But to make you happy, Mai, I'll take the right passage."

  "And I will take the left, my friend."

  "Whoa!" Rig tromped past them, then whirled, hands held up to block them. "I agree with the half-elf. We met Donnag's conditions. We killed the ‘wolves'-giants- whatever you want to call them. Now let's go back to Bloten and see if Lord Donnag keeps his end of the bargain. He promised Fiona a chest full of treasure and men to guard it on the way to Takar. Let's not take any more chances."