Darkness Fallen

by Dave Willmarth

  Alexander waved toward the forest. “Beasties are out there. Good luck. Remember, the keep is that way.” Alexander pointed north. “If you can’t make it back to Stormforge by the day after tomorrow, then go to the keep.”

  Chapter 12

  Long Live Rock ‘n’ Troll

  After saying his goodbyes, Alexander teleported himself back to Greystone Manor. The time was approaching to open the portal back to the keep.

  Stopping at the dragon forge, he waved to Master Ironhammer. “Thank you for the weapons. I understand you want a pendant. The same as before? Undying and Healing Light?”

  “Aye, lad. And it were my pleasure. That Pollock could be a decent smith with a bit o’ trainin’.” Ironhammer grinned at him.

  Alexander excused himself and moved to his unofficial crafting bench outside the house. He pulled a small piece of obsidian from his back. He shaped it roughly into a disc, then infused the Undying enchantment. When that was done, he began pushing Healing Light into it, until there was sufficient charge for a large single heal. He returned to Ironhammer, handing over the pendant. “I’ll leave the fine shaping to you.”

  “Thank ye, lad. These be right handy, and of great value to our people.” The old dwarf looked at him suggestively. “Ye could earn a fortune sellin’ ‘em to the clans.”

  “I have a fortune, Master Ironhammer. I would rather give them, or trade them, to friends. Let them be a surprise to your enemies!” He grinned. He pictured a squad of dwarves facing off against orcs in a fierce melee battle. And the confusion on the orc faces as dwarf after dwarf is dealt a fatal blow, only to get back up, heal, and fight on.

  As his people drifted back into the compound, Alexander chatted amiably with them. He learned about their families, what errands they were running in the city, and some bits of gossip about happenings around town. Several of them told him about other volunteers who wanted to come to the keep. Friends or family members who might be useful additions. He asked them to give names to Silverbeard.

  When everyone except Blix had gathered, he opened the portal and followed them through to the keep. Silverbeard was waiting for him in the courtyard.

  “The bank crew be nearly done with their work. Ye want them put to any particular project?” the old dwarf asked.

  Alexander considered. “I don’t know what their skills are. You have a better idea what they can do, and what’s needed. Maybe put them to work finishing the doors and such in the new rooms Jeeves is building? Or one of the villages up top? Also, I’m pretty sure tomorrow we’re going to hear news that the O’Malleys are going to build an inn with a tavern here in the keep. I’ll handle the structure, but the bank crew might be good for all the rest, just like in the bank?”

  Silverbeard replied, “They be best at security work. Hidden doors, vaults, magic locks, traps ‘n’ such. Be good to have some o’ that hereabouts.”

  Alexander’s face lit up. “Oh! Yes. In that case, I’m having Jeeves create a secret lab next to my quarters. It would be great if that room were secure from prying eyes.”

  “Aye, lad. That be just the type of job fer them.”

  “Excuse me, Master.” Jeeves’ voice from nowhere surprised both man and dwarf. “I thought I should inform you that the prowlers at the west observation tower seem agitated. The patriarch is pacing outside the entrance, while the matriarch appears to be guarding the door from the inside. I cannot sense any intruders, but my capabilities are limited.”

  “Thank you, Jeeves. Please tell me where Jules is at the moment. I’ll need her to translate for me.”

  “Jules is in her craft room, working on banners. Shall I ask her to join you here?”

  “I didn’t know she had a craft room. But yes, please ask her to come out. Thank you, Jeeves.” Looking at Silverbeard, he said, “Would you like to come along and meet the prowlers?”

  The old dwarf chuckled. “Wild kitties big nuff to eat me face in one bite? O’ course, I would!”

  Alexander touched the cat figurine in his bag, mentally reaching out to Tigger. After just a few moments, the giant white tiger came bounding through the gate. A wailing Fibble held tightly to his fur with wide eyes. The poor goblin looked terrified. Mattie was nowhere to be seen.

  When Tigger stopped at Alexander’s side, he sat on his haunches. A shaking Fibble released his death grip on the cat’s fur and fell backward off the mount. Getting up, he looked up at the cat’s smiling face. “Kitty not nice!” he said accusingly.

  Alexander took a knee next to Fibble. “Tigger was just coming to answer my call. He did not mean to scare you. And he is very careful with his riders. He would not let you be hurt.”

  Fibble looked at the tiger again, a little less suspiciously. “Tigger. Tiggerkitty was good to ride all day. Until last part. Crazy Tigger run like hungry goblin after rabbit!”

  Tigger chuffed at that remark. He lowered himself to his stomach in front of Fibble, then gently batted the little goblin with one massive paw. When Fibble nearly fell over, Tigger quickly used his other paw to stabilize him. Then he pushed his head forward and licked the little goblin’s face. The cat’s tongue was actually bigger than Fibble’s face, so the result was like wiping a massive sandpaper towel across the goblin’s entire face. Fibble sputtered and wiped at his face. “Tigger try to eat Fibble!”

  Jules’ laughter rang out from just behind them. “Silly Fibble! That was just his way of saying he likes you. Besides, why would he eat you? Goblins don’t taste good!” She smiled at Fibble, taking a knee next to Alexander.

  Tigger gently head-butted the little goblin. Then he purred loudly as Jules encouraged Fibble to scratch behind the cat’s ear. Fibble quickly warmed to this and began to enthusiastically rub and scratch with both hands. Tigger rolled over on his side to give the goblin access to his tummy, and within moments the whole thing had devolved into a wrestling match.

  As folks from all around the courtyard paused to watch the two at play, Alexander stood and pulled Jules to her feet. Putting an arm around her and pulling her close, he said, “We can’t let the children play all day. We’ve got to go see the prowlers. There’s some kind of trouble.”

  Jules didn’t hesitate. “Okay, Tigger! Enough. You can play with Fibble later. We’ve got to go now. Fibble, you want to come meet some other big kitties?”

  The little goblin nodded his head vigorously, ears flapping with the motion. Alexander teleported the group, including Silverbeard, Jules, Tigger and Fibble, to the open area outside the western tower.

  The prowler patriarch growled as the group appeared with a flash. Seeing Tigger, a cat as large as himself and a potential threat, his hackles rose. Jules stepped forward, her hands out. “It’s okay, papa kitty. Tigger is a friend.” She motioned to Tigger, who stepped forward. The two giant cats sniffed carefully at one another, nearly touching noses. Then both chuffed amiably and relaxed.

  Alexander said to Jules, “See if you can find out what’s upsetting him.”

  Jules reached out and put a hand on the patriarch’s neck, speaking softly to him. Tigger, who had begun to sniff around the area, growled deep in his throat and faced northwest. As Jules continued her conversation, there was a scratching sound at the tower door, and it opened. The matriarch’s head peered out. Seeing the friendly group, she emerged, followed by her kittens. All three kittens made straight for Tigger. After quick sniffs all around, they began to pounce and wrestle with him. Fibble, all fear of giant cats apparently banished, let out a tiny battle cry and dove into the melee.

  This initially confused the kittens, who backed off and growled. After all, goblins were an enemy. But Tigger’s playful reaction combined with Fibble’s obviously friendly tickle attacks soon had them back in the fray. Alexander began to worry for his little friend’s safety. He was tangling with several thousand pounds of cat.

  Surprisingly, his distinguished elderly dwarven chamberlain shouted, “I’ll save ye, Fibble!” and dove into the melee himself. He tickled and wrestled with th
e kittens as if he were a child with a box of puppies. Fibble shouted, “Rawr! Kitty fight!” and redoubled his efforts.

  Alexander grinned at the sight. And had to admit he was tempted to join in himself. The matriarch approached and sat next to him on his left. He could swear she was smiling as she watched the fun.

  The play ended quickly when there was a roar from the patriarch that shook the trees. All the cats were instantly on their feet, looking in his direction. One of the kittens held a dangling Fibble gently in his jaws.

  The patriarch looked to the northwest and growled. Jules said, “He’s showing me images of the rock troll we fought. I think he’s saying there is another one close by.” She paused for a moment, then corrected herself. “No, more than one. But smaller than the one we fought.”

  Alexander spoke up “Jeeves said the golems found caves northwest of the garrison that held rock trolls. Guess that would be them. But the cats shouldn’t be able to smell them from this far away. Or hear them, for that matter.”

  Jules closed her eyes. “The images he’s showing me are rock trolls walking around in the forest. He’s afraid they’re coming here.”

  Alexander looked around. “Okay. Jules, you and I will ride Tigger and go check it out. He can smell them too, it seems. Master Silverbeard, you keep the prowlers in the tower. Jeeves will lock the doors. If we run into trouble, you get them back to the garrison. If you have to, take everyone there through the mirror to the keep.

  Silverbeard nodded in understanding and began to try and gather the prowlers. Jules took a moment to convey Alexander’s instructions as he mounted Tigger. Once her message was complete, Jules moved to climb aboard Tigger behind Alexander.

  She was bowled over from behind by the kitten with the grey-tipped tail. The same one who so enjoyed tackling Max the last time they all met. The kitten chuffed at Jules, who was sitting on her butt in the grass. “No! Bad kitten! Playtime is over. You go inside with your mama ‘n’ papa.”

  She rose to her feet and turn her back to the kitten, stepping back toward Tigger and Alexander. The kitten moved in behind her, shoving his head between her knees as she stepped forward. Then he lifted his head, tossing Jules backward to land on his back. She grabbed hold of his fur to keep from falling, and just like that, Jules was riding the kitten.

  She started to get angry with the kitten. But she grew silent as it apparently sent her some mental images. “He says I’m his now. Like you belong to Tigger.” As soon as she spoke, the kitten walked over to his matriarch. He rubbed noses with her for a moment, then moved to stand next to Tigger. The matriarch chuffed a few times at her kitten but didn’t follow.

  Silverbeard chuckled. “Looks like ye been adopted, lass. There be stories of the old days. When giant beasties like these, the gryphons, unicorns, a few others… they’d be choosin’ to bond with folks. Never see’d it meself, though. Weren’t much too it. The lil fella just sorta tackled ye.” He winked at Jules.

  Jules scratched the big kitten affectionately on the back of its head, causing its eyes to roll up. “I guess you’re riding alone, Alexander. Let’s go.”

  Tigger didn’t wait for an argument. He turned and headed in the direction he smelled the rock trolls, taking Alexander with him. Fibble ran and leapt up, grabbing fur and climbing onto the kitten’s back behind Jules, holding on to her for balance. The kitten followed Tigger, and they soon were well into the woods.

  Tigger led them further to the west and north. Alexander pulled up his map and saw that the caverns Jeeves had pointed out were more northerly than the direction they were headed. So, it seemed the rock trolls were indeed moving south.

  Just a few minutes later, Tigger halted behind a stand of blackberry bushes. The kitten moved up beside him and sniffed the air. Fibble, seeing the bushes, hopped off and began helping himself to the berries. Smacking loudly as he shoved handfuls into his mouth. He was thoughtful enough to offer some to the cats. They declined.

  Alexander scanned the forest ahead of them but saw nothing. He activated his mage sight and could make out faint outlines of something moving around ahead. Several somethings, in fact. He pointed in the approximate direction, and said, “Jules, can you check it out without being seen?”

  She slipped from the kitten’s back, patting him on the neck. “You STAY here,” she whispered. She stepped into the bushes and disappeared. The kitten growled slightly, but Tigger batted it with a paw, and it went silent.

  Two minutes later, Jules appeared again, right next to him.

  “Six rock trolls. Moving around like they’re looking for something,” she reported.

  “Mount up. We’ll go in slowly. Maybe we can talk to them like the ones in the mines.”

  Before they moved forward, Alexander used his Earth Sense to search the area below the rock trolls. He found some limestone marble and some granite. He took a minute to raise chunks up near the surface. If he couldn’t talk to the rock trolls, maybe he could bribe them.

  Tigger moved forward, with the kitten following close behind and to one side. They stepped into an area of sparse underbrush. It looked like it had once been lush, but the trolls had stomped everything but the trees into oblivion. Even some of the trees bore marks where they’d been damaged by punches or kicks.

  As soon as they were in sight of the rock trolls, Alexander called out “Hello there!”. He raised his hands to show that he held no weapons. Immediately there was the rumbling sound of the trolls calling out to each other, and the ground shook as they moved toward him in unison.

  Alexander pulled a golf-ball sized chunk of obsidian from his bag. Holding it up with one hand, he called out “Hungry?”

  Seeing the obsidian appear out of seemingly nowhere, the trolls stopped moving. All six gazed at him with curiosity. Choosing the largest of the trolls, Alexander tossed the obsidian to it. The troll deftly caught the stone and sniffed it.

  Alexander quickly withdrew five more pieces and tossed one to each of the rock trolls. The first troll dropped the stone into its maw and crunched down. It made a rumbling noise that sounded almost like purring. Alexander had heard the sound before, from the rock trolls in the mine.

  He looked at the largest troll. “Can you speak?”

  The troll made a noise that sounded like he was gargling rocks. Nothing Alexander could understand. The others, apparently deciding their leader would live, ate their respective hunks of obsidian. Then there was more gargling noise as they seemed to be speaking to each other.

  Deciding to stack the odds in his favor, Alexander made a show of raising both hands in the air and mumbling loudly. The trolls instantly looked hostile, and the leader took a step in his direction.

  But Alexander raised a slab of marble between the troll leader and himself. The slab was about four feet wide and six feet tall. The leader halted his progress to sniff at the marble. After a moment sniffing, it broke off a piece and nibbled at it almost delicately.

  “Good food!” Alexander called out to it. “Eat. Gift from Greystone!” He had no idea whether the trolls understood a word he said. The leader sat down on the ground with a thud and began to munch in earnest on the stone. The others moved toward him, but a harsher sounding stone-gargling stopped them in their tracks. They looked on with what Alexander assumed was envy.

  Raising his hands again, he pulled up smaller slabs of granite and marble for the other five trolls. Sniffing at them, they all sat and began to munch away. After a few minutes, they began swapping ‘flavors’ by tossing chunks back and forth between themselves.

  Alexander continued to try talking to them. Nothing he said seemed to register to them. With an exasperated sigh, he said, “I wish they could talk like Gorg does!”

  The leader’s head snapped up, and he dropped his morsel of marble. Getting to his feet, he growled out, “Gorg?”

  Alexander was so surprised at the reaction that for a moment he just stared. Recovering his wits, he said, “Yes. Gorg. Troll Chieftain. You know Gorg?”

&nbs
p; The others had gotten to their feet this time. Jules whispered to him., “We should maybe be ready to run.” Alexander didn’t disagree.

  The lead troll took a step toward Alexander. “Where Gorg?” he demanded.

  Alexander wasn’t ready to answer that yet. “Gorg is my friend. Who are you?” he said as forcefully as he could.

  The troll beat a stony fist against its chest. “I Drog! Son of Gorg! Find Gorg!”

  “Why do you want to find Gorg?” Alexander asked.

  “Gorg Chief. Go hunting. Follow worm. Not come home.”

  Alexander was impressed. That was the longest string of words he’d heard a troll put together. He smiled at Drog. “Gorg is safe. He is a friend. Sit here and wait, I will bring him to you.” He made a staying motion with his hands.

  After thinking it over, Drog sat back down and resumed eating. The other trolls followed his lead.

  Alexander looked at Jules. “Can you babysit for maybe ten minutes while I go get daddy?”

  Jules giggled and nodded. She leaned over on the kitten’s back and planted a kiss on Alexander. “Go on. Hurry back. Don’t think it will take them long to finish up at this rate.”

  Alexander stepped away from Tigger, who sat and watched the trolls eat. “Maybe you and the kitties could hunt down some meat for these guys real quick?” he asked Jules.

  She nodded her head and began to speak to her kitten. Tigger tiled his head as he listened.

  Alexander teleported himself back to the keep. Then to the area just outside the mine. Catching the attention of the nearest miner, he asked, “Where is Gorg, the troll leader?”

  The dwarf thought about it for a moment. “Last I saw he was pushing a cart. Haven’t seen him in an hour or so. So he might be on his way up.”

  Alexander dashed into the mine, calling out Gorg’s name as he went. He called a light globe to float ahead of him, as he didn’t have a flashlight with him. He soon heard the sounds of troll-speak rumbling in the tunnel ahead of him. He passed by a troll that wasn’t Gorg, who waved at him, then pointed down a side shaft. “Gorg!” was all it said.