The Eastern Dwarfs: Part Two - The Underground Journey

by Leo deSouza

  They went out of the hall and then to a staircase that led to the upper levels of the front wing of the city, the one most close to the gatehouse and the stronghold entrance, up the stairs they got onto a large balcony from where they could see the outside, the mountains and the canyon from where they came. But after passing days inside the city without looking out, they faced now a different weather, winter had arrived and the mountainsides around were now covered in white, flakes falling from all the sky, it was snowing. Olaf leaned against the parapet as he propped his hands there, fairy Vixen came out of his shirtsleeve and flew to his shoulder, sitting there then, she began to braid the dwarf’s hair.

  “We are stuck here, and we can’t go back.” Olaf spoke.

  Torag approached as he lit his pipe to smoke. “Ye are right, there is no way back now. We don’t even have the ram anymore, not to say we lost much of our provisions. Even if our cousins could give us new ones, and even a new animal, the passage must be blocked by the snow now, would be impossible to pass through it.”

  “No other ram could replace Jewelry.” Rurur said with a sad voice.

  “The only way then is the underground one. But how could we go further, none of us know all the way” Olaf spoke.

  “We can’t.” Rurur replied. “All we can do is wait, and hope Thuor will recover well, for then one more time he could lead us.”

  “Lead us…” Torag spoke. “Even if one of us knew the way, would we just leave the captain here?”

  The others looked down, as if constrained.

  “That is for sure.” Torag continued. “We are going to stay here, and wait till the captain is recovered.”

  “That is right… We were sent under the guidance of captain Thuor, and without him we can not continue.” Olaf added.

  “I think ye got used to the dangers on the journey, but I will tell ye something that maybe ye did not realize yet. Nothing of what we did would be possible without the guidance of the captain. He commanded us in the defense of the Trade Meeting Post against the goblins, using all his strategy and wisdom. What to say about all the diplomacy he employed with many different folks we crossed by on the road?” Torag asked

  “I guess it would be different if other one was in charge.” Olaf replied.

  “Ye can bet! Do ye think I would have all that talking with the Wilding Dwarfs, the lumberman on the Noon Dale? Not to say I don’t know wise elves or inn owners the way Thuor does, always finding the right places for us to rest and get advice.” Torag said.

  “And yet we had a lot of trouble. But ye are right, I think it would be a lot worse without the captain we have.” Rurur broke in.

  “This.... I can imagine if Torag himself was the leader. We would all join a big fight against someone right in the beginning of the journey, and probably end up dead.” Olaf said.

  The wind blew hard and blizzard began to fall, their robes shook as the snow hit the stronghold wall.

  “Thuor is more than ye can see.” Torag said. “He is not like one of us, he comes from a noble lineage of warriors, lords who went to the west in the past eras to fight against all the menaces this world has faced. It was not by chance that King Frar decided to name him master chief of arms of our stronghold.”

  “I never came to know about his roots.” Olaf said.

  “Nor me.” Rurur added.

  “That is because lofty champions never go around spreading their achievements. But ye can remember what ye heard from the ones we met on the road when we were travelling through the Red Fields, everyone who knows the captain keeps great respect for him, and stories about his deeds are known by the folks.” Torag explained.

  “Now that ye say…” Rurur spoke. “I see how big of a misfortune was this accident with our captain, if only we could do something more…”

  Rurur was looking deeply to the sky ahead, thoughtful. “What about the Warlock? Where do ye think he is right now?” He asked.

  “If the wizard is right, whatever were his intentions, he planted his seeds, guess captain Thuor would say that it is up to us to find out what is it about.” Torag replied.

  At this moment came the dwarf responsible for the city’s safety, someone the company had already met before during the days they were passing there, the fairy hid again inside Olaf’s clothes. A sturdy dwarf, bald and lofty. “Taking the cold from the mountain my fellow ones? I guess ye want to feel it into your bones after so much time passed walking under the sun. A dwarf is not used to heat, yet we don’t like cold enough to stay outside in weather like this.” The newcomer said.

  “Greetings master Rodro.” Torag spoke. What news do ye bring for us?”

  Rodro shook his head slightly, he had one hand resting on the handle of his axe which was tied in his belt, the other hand gesturing as if he was trying to find the best words. “I’m afraid I have nothing new to tell, at least not anything good. Our healers have made a great effort to bring your captain back, but not much can be done, he is still… Sleeping, so to say. You know, a hit on the head can beat down even the toughest one.” He spoke.

  “What could be done? There must be a way.” Torag replied.

  “Unfortunately, master Torag, we have already used all in our reach. The worst about all this is that winter came, if only was still good weather…” Rodro said.

  “What do ye mean?” Torag insisted.

  “The herbs… They tried all the ones we have but one. One that is not available now, it only grows under the sun, among green grass and warm wind. I don’t think there will be any of it till the next spring, and this will take much time…” Rodro replied.

  “What is the name of this herb?” Rurur asked.

  “Oh it is… Ponytail… though known with a different name in the west. It yields a strong tea, and a steam that can go in one’s nostrils and bring back the most lazy dreamer from his most deep dreams, believe me I have seen it at work once.” Rodro replied.

  “Someone must have it, at least a last twig, somewhere.” Rurur spoke.

  One more time Rodro shook his head. “No… They have already looked for it, there is no Ponytail around, the only place they say some could still be growing is the Green Grotto, but this is nothing more than a legend.”

  “A legend?” Torag asked. “I’ve heard that all legends have at least a seed of truth.”

  “The stories tell that there the snow never hits…” Rodro continued. “It is always warm, and green moss grows up among small plants, and even some small animals.”

  “Seem quite real to me.” Torag said. “I’ve crossed with strange beings and witnessed events that everyone used to take as legends too, now I come to know they are true.”

  “I understand ye to be so willing to help your captain, but anyway ye could not reach there, the stories tell about a hidden grotto among the mountains, with all this blizzard, impossible to reach, or at least too risky, considering if it really exists.” Rodro spoke.

  “How far?” Asked Torag.

  Rodro now chuckled. “I don’t know... Probably no one knows. It is said to be on a nearby peak, somewhere our folk do not usually reach, it is quite a dangerous trail to get there.”

  “Danger is my wife.” Torag said.

  “Even if so, one would need to make his way through snow, ice, rock and blizzard to reach there. Not even a well experienced clamberer would do it in safety.”

  “As I said, ye would be surprised if we told ye about everything we have passed to reach here.” Torag added.

  Rodro replied, now smiling: “Good to see ye are so bold! Ye know why this place is called Red Star City? There is a star which rises from the west, and it shines red. We believe that its light reaches us, hitting our walls, that is why we have a star in the front of our city, the eight point star carved in the marble, as ye saw when ye first arrived. The star in the sky inspires us, and gives us courage, maybe is that courage hitting ye now… Listen… Why don’t we get in? This cold will not do good for our bones.”

  So it was, everyone
went back inside again to fell the warm coming from the many torches through the corridor.

  The door behind them was closed with a thud by Rodro. “Come now, don’t let the regret hit ye.” He said. “After all ye should be thankful for three of ye arrived in safety. Not that I’m saying ye should lose your hope about your captain, but now time is the only one who can give answers.”

  More days have passed, the routine of the dwarfs became boring and discouraging, though they always had abundance in meals and comfort, soon the hosts got used to their presence, and they turned into mere common habitants of that place. Torag got tired of repeating the stories about their journey through the fields and was now always seen sitting in corners, smoking his pipe. Rurur began to spend time among the dwarfs of this place, always talking to folks about food and old stories, somehow that was the way he found to divert his mind. Olaf was the one who more cared about the captain, from time to time he came to the healing room where Thuor was lying, always making the same questions to the dwarf women there, the healers, and always getting the same answers. The captain was completely motionless, and not giving any signal of recovery, actually, his face had turned darker, skinny and strangely languid, as if his vim was gradually leaving. One day while Olaf was sitting beside Thuor’s bed, he stealthily freed Vixen, the fairy, from inside his shirt collar, the creature flew around, shining a white light.

  “Cant’ ye do anything?” The dwarf asked.

  Vixen flew over Thuor, examining him. She flew quickly from the captain’s feet to his head, then came back to Olaf and sat on his shoulder, shaking her minute head.

  “Fine then… I know ye would do it if ye could.” The dwarf said.

  Then the sound of someone chatting quietly was heard, as if not wanting for anyone to hear. Vixen suddenly hid again, Olaf raised and sneaked to a side door, he peeked through it and saw two guards talking inside another room.

  “…Yes I heard it… The scout who just arrived from the deep caves… Saying he saw something.” One of them whispered.

  “Ye right about this? Do ye think they are planning to defend the city against something coming from the underground? That makes no sense for me.” The other one replied.

  “Making sense or not, that is what I heard, and I think it would be better for us to be prepared.” The first one said.

  “It is just a rumor…” The other one replied.

  At this moment a dwarf woman showed up, she came to them and pressed a lint against the hand of one of the chatting dwarfs.

  “Ouch!” He exclaimed.

  “Don’t be a craven!” The dwarf woman said. “It is just a small cut! Next time ye cut yourself with your own axe ye better fix it by yourself and not come here to bother me!”

  The two guards left, passing by Olaf as they looked at him, suspiciously. Olaf followed them, and outside the two guards separated after a greeting, he came close to the one who stood as the other left. “What were ye talking about?” He asked.

  The guard was caught by surprise, he looked around and then dissimulated. “Nothing, RockFoot one, we were just talking about trivialities.”

  “Oh what is this?” Olaf insisted. “I heard ye talking something about defending the city.”

  The guard approached. “Listen to me, my fellow cousin, I don’t think it is a good idea to go around spreading rumors, master Rodro would not like it.” He said.

  Olaf smiled maliciously. “I’m sure about this, this is exactly why I would like to hear from ye, it is better than me going to ask Rodro himself about what I heard just now.” He replied.

  The dwarf nodded to him with a keen expression. “Fine, curious one. If ye want to know, why don’t ye ask the scout? He just came back from the underground passage, he could tell ye exactly what he saw, he is in the north watching tower.”

  Olaf one more time smiled. “Thank ye.”

  Just a moment after it, a voice sounded behind him, it was Torag who approached. “Still waiting for the captain to wake up at any time, right?” The newcomer said.

  The guard left.

  “Why not? Nothing says it is impossible.” Olaf replied.

  “What do they say?” Torag asked.

  “The same as always, he could wake up at any moment, or never more.” Olaf replied again.

  Torag snorted: “Hunf… That does not seem very precise. Guess what is passing in his mind right now.”

  “This is not that difficult to figure out.” The dwarf woman said, approaching.

  “What do ye mean, madam?” Torag replied.

  “Isn’t it obvious? Your captain wants to come back.” She said.

  “There is no way.” Olaf spoke.

  “Actually, there is.” She replied.

  Both dwarfs looked at her with attention.

  “Keep on.” Olaf said.

  “She talks about the herb, Ponytail.” Torag broke in.

  “Yes… I do, so ye have already heard about it.” She spoke.

  “We did.” Rurur replied. “And we also came to know there is no herb reachable now, unless the legend about the Green Grotto is actually true, yet no one knows where it is located.”

  The woman came closer and spoke: “Well… I don’t believe any of our dwarfs would risk himself through the path to find a legend, it is true, nor Rodro would send any of them in such a task, risking one dwarf’s life to save another one, and with no guarantee. But impossible is such a strong word, isn’t it?”

  “What do ye mean? Ye say one could manage to reach the Grotto?” Torag asked.

  “I say… What would your captain do if was one of ye lying down in his place?” She asked.

  Torag now looked into the woman’s eyes, deeply and inquiring. “How good is this herb, madam?”

  “Oh I’ve seen it being used many times before, and in cases even worse than captain’s one here. And yet, I have never witnessed a fail, ye boil it and bring the steam close to his nose, and the dwarf jumps from the bed as if waking up in a joyful morning.” She replied.

  “Fine. Still not even Rodro knows where the Grotto is.” Spome Torag.

  “Are ye sure about that? What if he is just trying to protect ye from dying on the snow?” The woman asked.

  Torag looked at Olaf, then left.

  “Ye just urged the adventurous instincts of a bold one, milady.” Olaf said to the woman, he left the place too. He did not actually know what Torag was intending to do, and just went to their quarters, there he found Rurur and both joined to play matches of that board game about defending the king, the same game they had been playing since they left their stronghold.

  “Ye came from the Healing rooms?” Rurur asked as he moved one piece of the game.

  “Yes, the situation is the same.” Replied Olaf.

  “Where is Torag? Rurur continued.

  “Well…” Olaf said. “Either he has lost all his hope, or he is right now preparing for extreme solutions.”

  Not much time later, Torag came to them, carrying many climbing things like rope and climbing picks.

  “Ye don’t even need to tell what ye are thinking about.” Olaf said as he saw Torag.

  “Yes, and I need someone to come with me.” Torag replied.

  “Ye heard Rodro, we know the chances of death is high, ye know, snow, slopey cliffs, storm.” Olaf spoke.

  “Yes, what say ye?” Torag asked.

  “When do we leave?” Olaf replied.

  “Tomorrow morning, there is no time to lose.” Torag said with his usual smart smile.

  “What by the skies are ye talking about?” Rurur broke in.

  “We are going to the Green Grotto, to take from there the herb to help captain Thuor.” Olaf said.

  “Oh…” Rurur continued. “Good, I think I could join ye too.”

  “No.” Torag spoke. “Someone must stay here, in case something happens, otherwise the captain would be alone.”

  “Something happens? Something like what?” Rurur asked.

  “Like falling down the cliff
and dying on the mountainside, among all the snow! Right, Torag?” Olaf asked.

  Torag nodded. “Yes.” He said.

  “Huuum…” Rurur sounded. “In this case, I think it is wise for me to stay, well my friends… Good luck then.”

  “Time to show real RockFoot dwarfs fear nothing.” Torag said. “Sleep well today, Olaf, tomorrow we are going to climb.”

  G reen Healing.

  Early the next morning, Torag and Olaf were outside the fortress, above a small platform that gave access to a side exit toward the mountains, the blizzard was now weaker, and some of the daylight could be seen. There with them was Rodro, tying a backpack on Torag’s back. “Be advised.” He said. “The cliffs are full of snow which can come down at any time.”

  “I think we already had enough warnings about danger, don’t ye worry, Rodro.” Torag replied

  “If ye say so…” Continued Rodro. “Anyway don’t forget, there is only one way, if ye find a wall blocking it, don’t try to find another path, don’t circle it, just climb and go ahead, always straight. Then there is no way to go wrong, either ye will find it, or it is just a legend.”

  Torag nodded as he tightened his belt. “Fine. I’m thankful you shared with us the supposed… Location of this place. Now tell me, considering that ye never saw that place before, the Green Grotto, any hints about how its entrance would look like?” He asked.

  “It’s a Grotto, should be inside the Mountain. Besides, the path leads through only one way, and it ends at some point, if the Grotto is real, then ye will surely find it.” Rodro explained.

  “All right. What about the Ponytail? How is this herb I should look for?” Torag continued.

  “A small leafed herb with a red pimply flower on it, easy to identify.” Rodro replied.

  “I’m not going to forget about this.” Olaf replied.

  “Listen, ye both. Your courage proves your valor, and going after something that could save a friend in trouble is mostly commendable. Still I need to insist in this, no one has ever seen that Grotto before, at least none that could prove it, but there is always stories around.” Rodro spoke.

  “Then we will be the first ones.” Torag said.