by Leo deSouza
“Ye are right, Torag.” Thuor spoke. “Come, there is a lightened place ahead, and if I’m not wrong, fresh water in abundance for us to even take a bath, in case any of us can handle the cold.”
The captain was right, as they approached the light beam the cave gap became visible, its dark black rocky walls around, its ceiling and even the bottom down there, all made of brute stone carved by nature itself over the eras. The dwarfs now could also hear the sound of falling water, the company crossed the portion of the path lightened by the sun beam and then contemplated something even more impressive, a huge waterfall, passing right above the footbridge and falling down to a pool bottom so that the path passed under the falling water, now the noise of the waterfall was deafening.
“Time to fill up our canteens!” Thuor shouted.
Torag came under the waterfall and reached his hand out to touch the water. “It is cold like the snow from the highest mountaintop!” He shouted.
The water droplets spread in the air, making the dwarfs’ beards and clothes wet. A portion of the waterfall was actually falling on the footbridge, making half its path covered by water.
“So, who will take a bath under the cold waterfall of the Gurundir Halls?” Thuor asked.
“Me! Of course. No other one has courage enough!” Torag spoke, he began undressing and ended up with only his underwear. “Hold my clothes and the torch.” He said reaching out to Rurur.
This one took them, Torag slapped his chest and advanced in short jumps towards the water.
“Here is a dwarf not afraid of the cold!” He shouted.
The other ones laughed when they saw the exact moment when Torag entered the waterfall. “Hup! Hap! Hup!” He sounded while jumping and rubbing himself under the cold water.
“Is it really cold?” Olaf asked.
“Come and try yourself! My ass is almost freezing and my bones are about to crack!” Torag shouted from inside the waterfall.
The others could distinguish him under the waterfall, they stood quiet observing the scene and some time passed till Thuor shouted: “Come, Torag! Before you freeze, it is time for us to leave again.”
But no answer came, now only the sound of the falling water could be heard.
“Where is he?” Olaf asked.
Thuor approached the waterfall. “Torag?” He shouted.
Again no answer came.
“Come out, we can not spent the entire day in this.” Thuor insisted.
Now they heard Torag’s voice among the water, not answering the captain but talking harshly to someone else. “Who are ye?” His voice sounded loudly. “Get off! Get off!”
Thuor came even closer. “Who is there with ye?”
“Arrrgh!” Torag screamed.
The other dwarfs boggled, Thuor drew his warhammer and entered the waterfall, Olaf and Rurur stood outside in expectation, fairy Vixen was now flying around agitated. After some moments, the captain came back, wet and worried. “He disappeared!” He exclaimed.
“Disappeared?” Olaf asked. “How?”
“Oh no! He fell down the waterfall.” Rurur broke in.
“No, I heard him, he was talking to someone else!” Thuor said.
Then they all heard a cry coming from ahead the footbridge path. “Help!” It was Torag’s voice, as they could hear.
“Quick!” Thuor shouted advancing through the path.
They all passed under the waterfall and went ahead.
“Do ye see anything?” Thuor shouted.
“Nothing!” Rurur exclaimed.
For a while they ran along the footbridge expecting to find Torag, but all they could see was the darkness ahead increasing again as they left the light. Finally, the group saw a new bifurcation leading to the rock wall at their right, an arch gave entrance to a room and inside it a dim blue light trembled against the walls.
“Who is the dweller of this place?” Olaf asked.
Vixen hid one more time.
Thuor now had his torch lit again, he stepped into the room quietly, looking around and holding his weapon in the other hand, the other dwarfs came after him as soon as he entered. It was a gloomy dirty place like the room they slept in before, the captain walked softly, he advanced towards a corridor, watchful. Rurur and Olaf drew their weapons, the ones they got before leaving the battle in the Red Star City. The place was revealed to be bigger than they were expecting, the group passed by some rooms and corridors, always quietly as they observed each corner to finally reach an arch leading to a room where someone was apparently chatting. Thuor sidled though the arch and went behind a large pillar, the others did the same. They all now peeked out of a corner and saw at some distance, a strange scene. Inside this room, Torag was sitting on a stone bench, his feet and hands tied, he was still undressed as before, except for his underwear, and there was someone else, a strange figure, taller than any man each dwarf there had ever seen, using a dark ripped robe, its arms thin like sticks and its skin of a green tone. But the strangest thing was its head, which was revealed to be a woman’s head, so to say. Flimsy shaggy hair and a bony face with a pointy nose and many warts, her eyes were large orbs totally white, the freaky figure moved from here to there, but they could not see her feet. Actually as her robe slithered on the ground and by the strange way she moved, they could not say if she was actually walking on feet or hovering above the floor. Torag was sat there looking at her, wide eyed.
“What is this thing?” Rurur whispered.
“She took Torag from the waterfall.” Olaf replied quietly.
“It seems so.” Thuor said.
“It is a witch.” A fourth voice said.
The dwarfs looked in surprise and saw there by their side, also hiding, another dwarf.
“Who the crap are ye?” Olaf asked.
“Ye are the rogue that fled in the mining car.” Thuor said looking at the newcomer.
And he was right, there was Montaron, the criminal dwarf, as always smiling and with a smart mien, dressed in plain clothes, and on his hands his pair of gloves. Thuor looked at the witch and then came quickly to Montaron, being followed by the others. They were now all behind a wall, still inside the same room.
“How did ye come here?” The captain asked to Montaron.
“The same way as ye.” Montaron answered.
Now they all looked again towards the witch, but she was not there anymore, still they could see Torag in the same position as before, he looked somehow pale and lethargic.
“More visitors!” Sounded a wicked voice behind them.
Everyone was scared and spread around, they turned back to see there close to them the witch, smiling with her horrid rotten teeth. The dwarfs had no reaction.
“Don’t be shy, be welcome to my humble lair.” The witch said as she opened her arms and advanced towards them, forcing everyone to step back into the room.
Now they were trapped as she was blocking the path back. The witch came groping till a pillar and bluntly moved a lever there, a metal sound was heard and a strong metal door went down closing the arch, they were now jailed. She then went to a cauldron where she was preparing something and began to stir it, moving as if disoriented and groping. A steam was in the air with a strange smell that they could not identify.
“I was right now talking to Torag, he can hear well, but does not speak much.” She said with a disturbing laugh.
Rurur approached the lever on the pillar discreetly.
“There is this lever for closing the door, the one to open it is hidden somewhere… I don’t remember exactly where.” The witch said shrilly, not looking at Rurur. “Now why don’t you all just have a seat?”
Olaf coughed before saying: “It is not necessary madam we…”
“Sit down!” The witch interrupted with a horrid shout.
Every dwarf there found a rock or at least a broken chair to sit, except for Montaron, he looked around trying to find where to sit, but as he did not find anything he ended up siting on the floor, this dwarf had now
a nervous smile as he looked tensely to the others.
“You know what is more pleasant? Oh I tell you… You came right in time for a meal.” The witch said.
Torag looked at the others moving his mouth like talking, but no sound came from it.
“Yes yes yes…” The witch said after tasting the content inside the cauldron with the tip of one of her horrid fingers. “How good it is to feel the taste of a good broth again, after all this time. Now… You see… This is just the broth being boiled, there is no meat in it. Do you think you can help me with this? Well… As everyone knows, a boiling broth without any meat makes no meal at all… So the question now is, which meat to put into the broth? What do ye suggest?”
Again, all the dwarfs looked at each other, as if not knowing what to say. Then finally Rurur stammered: “I herm… Some pork meat, yes, it would fit well.”
“Anyway, the first one of you who came could not feel the taste of it anymore, could you?” The witch continued as if ignoring Rurur. She now went to a dusty shelf where there were many bottles with strange contents inside, and Rurur thought he saw a small head inside one of them. The witch groped, took one of the bottles and opened it, then leaked some of its content inside the cauldron. “Now, as we were talking, which meat do you suggest?” He continued.
Olaf answered trying to sound gentle. “Oh madam… Judging by the smell of this broth, I would, say, a good quail to thicken it.”
The witch shook her head and twisted her mouth. “Actually… We know that not many types of meat are available under these caves, so this question makes not much sense.” She said.
Thuor looked at Torag’s eyes and then to his tied hands and feet, making him to understand he was about to act.
“So… It is a difficult decision, isn’t?” The witch continued, she now began to sing a strange song:
“Thick Boiling broth.
Good taste in it.
The spice is ready
But something is missing.
The final ingredient
I must find
And my new guests
Seem to have brought it.
But one must say.
What it is
For we know
Meat is the thing
Lest is to know
Which meat to eat.”
Her voice was so horrid that the dwarfs could not even pay any attention to what she was saying. “So?” She continued.
“Heh… A good tasty broth is enough, milady. No need of meat after all.” Olaf said again.
But the witch gave no answer, she kept stirring the cauldron, Montaron whistled making the others look at him. “She is deaf.” He whispered.
All of sudden, ropes coming like from nowhere trapped the dwarfs, moving by themselves, like sneaking snakes they enrolled their fists and ankles, immobilizing the entire group.
“Dirty witchcraft!” Rurur shouted.
The witch suddenly turned and hovered at a disturbing speed over the ground, coming directly to Olaf, she then came face to face with him, the others could see the moment when both the witch and Olaf stirred while something like a mist passed from the dwarf’s ears to her ones, she distanced and smiled strangely. “Now… I hear boiling broth! How good it is to hear again!” He said.
“I’m deaf! I can’t hear!” Olaf spoke.
“What are ye doing, witch?” Thuor asked in his imposing voice.
She turned and pointed the big wooden spoon against him. “I hear you! Don’t make me questions, you entered my domain, it was a choice of yours. Now, what are you doing here?” She asked, and her voice now had an aggressive tone.
“We are travelling across the underground passage, and you took one of us!” The captain replied.
“Travelling all the way though the passage you mean? I think you will not manage to do this.”
“And why not?” Thuor continued.
“Why? Because the passage is guarded by someone who will not allow you to go further.” She replied.
“We are not afraid of ye!” Olaf shouted.
The witch laughed loudly. “I’m not talking about myself, dwarf!”
“And who is this then?” Thuor insisted.
The witch chuckled. “I recognize the rough voice of a dwarf, I’ve not heard it since long ago. Don’t you know the legends of your own people, dwarf? The Sinister lays deep into the mountain roots.”
“What she is talking about? I’m hearing nothing!” Olaf said loudly.
“Who is this one?” Thuor asked.
“The Sinister, the ancient guardian of the underground passage of Gurundir.” She continued.
“I demand that ye let us go! And we will take the path we find better!”
“Be… Quiet…” The witch said in a wicked voice.
The ropes tying the captain tightened.
“You think you can cross The Sinister? Let me tell you a story, dwarf!” She continued as her voice grew more and more horrid. “Some time ago, not much time ago… Someone came and tried to bend the Sinister under his own will… And this one was a fierce one, I don’t know where he came from, but I got the exact moment when they met… A tall mysterious one, using a dark robe, and a hood covering all his head, I could not see his face. But I could see his hands, his metal gloves, and I heard when he said his first words against The Sinister, evil words, from the dark language, a language long forgotten, not pronounced in these lands for a long time.”
The company’s dwarfs looked at each other, they immediately thought about the Warlock.
“How could ye hear and see? Ye seem blind to me, and just a moment ago ye were deaf!” Thuor said
“A price I paid for my curiosity… I’m not sure if this newcomer was the type who regrets about something, but he would surely think twice before coming close to The Sinister if he knew how terrible this one was. He tried bending him, yes, but The Sinister is not someone that can fall under the will of anyone else, not even the masters of evil and wickedness.” She replied.
“What happened?” Thuor asked.
“There was a struggle between them, a fight worth of watching. This one, the tall one under the cloak and the hood, he was for sure someone who knew how to cast curses, for I saw the moment when he whispered his terrible words against The Sinister, but he got a surprise when no word made any effect on him. The Sinister cannot be tamed or charmed, his nature is older than any other known, and his answer was powerful… I risk to say this one who came to bend him left wounded, whatever the type of wound he can get, the fact is that he left, like someone who suddenly realizes that he found an opponent to match him. And so, the blast was so strong that it stole me all my senses! But as ye can see, I’m recovering them, one by one…” She added.
“Ye wicked monster!” Olaf shouted not even hearing the conversation.
The witch laughed. “Blame me if you want! I had waited for an opportunity like this in silence, in the darkness… Yes, I lost all my senses… But there was something I still could count with, like an inner guidance beyond the ordinary senses… Some time ago a marching army of orcs passed by us… What a fortuitous event, taking one of the last passing orcs was such a difficult task, but I managed to do it after all. Thanks to this orc… I came to feel things again when touching it, that was the sense the orc provided. Then came one of you to give me his palate… So I came to talk again. I must say I’m somehow thankful.”
Everyone looked at Torag, as if realizing what was happening. But Olaf was now looking at the witch’s forehead, he saw a bump on her head, and he immediately remembered about when Torag threw the burang against something in the darkness the day before.
“And now ye all come here…” The witch continued. “It seems my luck has changed!”
She advanced so quickly hovering against the dwarfs that it frightened them, then she groped at their bodies. First she got Olaf and Rurur and dragged them on the ground towards an arch that gave access to another room while these two dwarfs shouted in contestation, then
after a moment she came back and did the same to Thuor and Torag, and finally she dragged Montaron too. The witch put all the dwarfs inside a dark room lit by a single torch on the wall, in a jail cell she put everyone, except for Montaron, this one was caged inside a suspended cage, so tight of a cage that the dwarf had to cower hardly able to move, then the witch left. The place was dirty, full of bones, filth and dirtiness of all types.
“Curse this filthy devil witch!” Rurur spoke in his rough voice.
They were all still enrolled by the ropes so that they could not move.
“We must think about a way to get rid of this damn situation soon, otherwise we will need to bet who will be the first one to be boiled in her cauldron!” Olaf exclaimed feeling strange to not hear his own voice.
Everyone began to stir, but the ropes were tightly tied around them, and somehow it seemed like a strange magic power kept it so.
“Can any of ye reach a blade or something?” Thuor asked.
“Better is to try finding a sharp object on the ground.” Rurur replied.
Now they all were looking around trying to find something as he said.
“Who will be the first one to join the meal, my dears?” The witch voice sounded musically coming from the other room.
“Oh my… We better leave!” Rurur spoke.
Olaf found a sharp bone and began rubbing the rope on it, everyone else was trying something when suddenly Rurur stopped looking at Montaron. “The little rascal… How did he manage to do it?” he asked.
As they looked out of the cell, they saw Montaron inside the suspended cage already free from the rope that now was lying on the ground. He was sticking a small metal clip inside the cage lock as he bit his own tongue in an expression of effort.
“How did ye?” Thuor asked.
“Ribs.” Montaron replied. “He gnawed the rope.”
The other ones saw then the small weasel over his forearm, watching him work on the lock.
“That’s one useful pet to have. Why don’t ye ask your fairy to cut our ropes, Olaf?” Rurur said looking at this one, then realized he could not hear.
What a big surprise it was for the dwarfs watching the scene when Montaron’s cage door opened and the dwarf inside it smiled smartly. He leaned his body out of the cage, holding on its bars and looked out to the entrance of the room, as if trying to see if the witch was near, then with a quick jump, he came to the floor with almost no noise, the dwarf slapped himself quietly to get rid of dust and then walked towards the entrance.