The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path

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The Earthrin Stones 1 of 3: Inheritance of a Sword and a Path Page 46

by Douglas Van Dyke


  “Uh oh, not good,” lamented Mel, as the others began their attack.

  Loung sprang to a table and picked up a knife. Light reflected dangerously across the blade as he got the appropriate grip on it. The Tariykan moved forward gracefully on the balls of his feet as he held the knife up for a throw. Bortun gave an animal roar of rage as he charged forward with his large axe. The minotaur covered the room in long strides. Revwar dropped his left arm slightly as he brought forth the hand carrying his staff. His fingers worked deftly on its symbols as he prepared a spell of his own. Savannah took cover behind a doorframe, but Mel could hear the dark cleric chanting to her deity.

  Mel kept the wand pointing forward with his right hand, but his left dug an item out of a pouch on his bandolier. The gnome poured his concentration into that hand’s deft movements: hooking a finger one way, twirling another finger, all the time murmuring an arcane phrase. This was a true test of a sorcerer, as well as a worthy challenge for a worshipper of the dwarven god Daerkfyre. With deadly enemies charging and distractions in every direction, he had to hold together the courage and concentration to cast a spell. The magic flowed from his tongue and hand as it took form in front of him. Mel barely noticed that beyond the mist of the gathering magic were two attacks that were already slicing the air towards him. A knife spun through the air alongside a deadly beam of magic from the elf wizard.

  The mist coalesced into something tangible before the gnome’s eyes. The knife deflected inches from Mel’s chest. A section of the misty wall lit up different colors as the beam tried ineffectively to burn through it. The gnome smiled in relief as his magic barrier solidified. Revwar realized it was similar to the barrier he used at the bluff battle. The inventive gnome had added a few features to his own version of the wall. The barrier varied in height along its length, much like castle battlements. In places it was tall enough that a human would have to jump over it, and in others it was only as high as Mel’s waist. The barrier was translucent, yet solid enough to block many different kinds of attacks. It stretched across most of one side of the room, but was not impassible to anyone that could jump over it or go around it.

  The reason for the size differences along the misty barrier soon became apparent. Mel leaned across in order to fire his wand through one of the openings. Revwar cursed, seeking a new strategy by which he could directly attack the small caster. Savannah reappeared from behind the doorframe. The cleric had visible energies wrapped protectively around her form. Mel also noticed that the spiked iron ball of her flail was crackling with a dark power. At this point, the gnomish sorcerer’s worst threat was the minotaur charging at him. The wand pointed at this new target and prepared to let loose its burst of power. Bortun had almost gotten to the barrier when Mel took aim. The minotaur was not about to be able to dodge the blast, nor did he intend to try his luck at seeing if he could survive the effects. He brought up the head of his massive axe. Mel fired from only a few feet away as the minotaur kept his axe up in preparation for the attack.

  “Daerkfyre, witness my courage!”

  Another blast thundered across the room as Bortun’s frame became silhouetted in the eyes of the rest of his band. The minotaur was slammed backwards in a burst of white light. Arms, hooves, and his lone remaining horn twisted about in the air as he reeled from the energy. The creature landed in a heap on the fringes of the floor sigils. Wisps of smoke rose into the air.

  * * * * *

  “Can you all hear that?” Cat asked, as she leaned down against the opening.

  The companions were gathered around the small, open shaft. From the dark maw of the hole, they heard battle screams and the explosions of spells. Salgor was listening as he heard one name screamed above others, and it caused him to jump up and raise his axe.

  The dwarf gritted his teeth. “He’s calling out to my dwarven god even as he is blasting the gold teeth right out of them overgrown goblins! That damn…that…brave little blasphemer!”

  Salgor didn’t seem to be angry in the way he reacted to Mel calling out for Daerkfyre. The dwarf hopped about as he looked for an exit from the hall. “We have to get to him! We have to find him and help out now!”

  The others scrambled to their feet in a rush. Cat, Petrow, Trestan and Salgor took off running, with no clear direction in which to go.

  * * * * *

  Mel had a big smile on his face when he watched the minotaur tumble down. The gnome had the afterimages of dancing lights in his vision from the brightness. His smile faded as Bortun started to move again. The minotaur grunted as it braced itself on an arm. The creature sat up, holding its axe before it…a blackened, scorched axe which was mostly intact and still sharp. Bortun seemed to have small burns around his chest, but the magic axe had absorbed the greater effect of the wand’s power. The creature began to howl in anger, as it started to get back upright again.

  Mel ducked behind the barrier again as a spell from Revwar launched a wave of fire. The elf had used an effect that would not be totally blocked by the magic barrier. The flames curled around the misty wall, toasting Mel considerably. He sprinted to another part of the wall and aimed his wand again. This time he picked Loung Chao. The man had almost reached the wall and was close enough to be a big threat. The gnome was prepared that the Tariykan would be ready to dodge, so the gnome tried to lead his shot. Mel aimed intentionally a bit to one side, and waited for the warrior to dodge the other direction so that he could swing the wand across and fire. Loung did indeed step where Mel hoped he would, and the gnome fired his wand as the opportunity unfolded.

  Or at least, he tried to.

  The wand didn’t respond. Mel screamed the command again, this time more than a little worried. No lightening came forth. There was no thunderous noise, or blinding beam, just the empty feeling that all the energy of the wand had been used up. Many arcane items such as the wand and even Dovewing had to be refilled with magical energy from time to time. Apparently, the gnome had overused the wand without keeping track of how much power was left inside it. Mel was just beginning to get really worried when another danger struck.

  Savannah had sprinted up to the misty wall on the other end from where Mel stood. She uttered a quick prayer before swinging her crackling weapon. The dark flail connected with the barrier and sent a shudder along its entire length. The formerly solid surface began to ripple outwards from the point of impact. A moment later, the misty wall shattered into many pieces. The translucent shards retained their solid appearance for a brief second before dissipating into a gaseous form again. Mel’s magical barrier was gone.

  The gnome tried not to give in to panic as the mist disappeared around him. He just needed something to buy time so that he could dive back into the open shaft and hopefully end up somewhere better than here. Mel still carried a crossbow but it was unloaded. The trusty mace hung from his belt, but it seemed useless against any of these opponents. The drained wand was tossed aside as he dug into another pouch. He went back into concentrating on the spell despite the distracting dangers. Loung, Bortun, and Savannah charged in from three sides, while Revwar stood safely in the back with his staff ready.

  Nothing could distract Mel’s attention as he pulled out a piece of material from an old leather pouch. His fingers went through the intricate motions, unconcerned with the thought of the approaching danger. All fear and uncertainty had to be pushed aside if the spell was to succeed. Arcane words flowed from his tongue has he concentrated on the incantation.

  He was still concentrating by the time Loung leapt into the air and landed a powerful kick to the gnome’s head.

  * * * * *

  It was taking forever for the companions to find their way around the castle. The structure was a maze of chambers and passages. They ran from one door to the next. Some doorways were nothing more than empty frames, while others were blocked by the passage of time and the bowing of the wood. Salgor would not let a stuck door slow him down. Swift and heavy were the blows from his axe as he sought any passag
e to the first level. Sometimes part of the group started to run one way, while the rest almost went another. The dwarf felt that he was following his nose to the right place, so everyone learned to follow Salgor or be left on their own. He led the way, shattering more doors as he went. They found more bedrooms, servant quarters, some studies and another kitchen. More hallways and servant passages branched off in sometimes random directions. As the halls twisted about, they soon lost track of which directions they had been running.

  Salgor grumbled as he went. “Should have all listened to me and the smith, but you had to do it your way!”

  Another axe blow spun a warped door off of dusty hinges, revealing another dead end room. The dwarf growled and moved onward. “We should have finished exploring the first floor, o’ we could o’ charged the sailor camp…anything but trying to use a risky magical device to get to the wrong level.”

  Trestan, sweating in his armor, huffed, “Let’s just keep going and find a way down.”

  Cat shook her head sadly. All her hopes of sneaking in and out with the relics had gone down the shaft with Mel. There was no turning back now, and yet she felt they were charging into a hopeless fight. “Be careful of what we might run into. If you see an enemy, strike hard and fast.”

  A double door reinforced with rusted bands barred their path. Salgor was ready to put his full weight at it. Before the dwarf warrior reached it, a slender, long blade swung overhead. The elvish sword sliced through the reinforced doors as easily as Salgor’s axe had handled the weaker ones. The dwarf looked in wonder at the sundered doors, then glanced at the young smith. Trestan re-sheathed the magical elvish blade with a smirk, having some amusement at beating the dwarf at his own game.

  Salgor pointed at him, “We need to get you a proper axe to match your strong swing.”

  Trestan offered a partial grin, even though his mind worried about what might be happening to poor Mel. It might have been minutes, or it might have been longer, but regardless of the passage of time there were no more sounds of battle from below. They were all worried that whatever challenge Mel faced was now ended one way or the other. They were still puzzled at how suddenly he had disappeared. None of the companions had noticed the gnome as he must have precariously held on to the shaft, after trying to avoid injury when the lift launched Petrow across the floor. No one had noticed any danger until the gnome had already slid from view. They were still in shock that the small sorcerer might have met his death while they had been helpless to stop it. At the same time, all of them were ready to pay back anyone who dared lay a finger on their small companion.

  At last they found what they had been looking for beyond the pair of reinforced doors. A wide stairway wound downwards and around a corner to the ground floor. The stairs were made in a way that suited design more than expediency. The walls to either side had been done decoratively, and sunlight streamed in through some tall, albeit broken, windows. The companions hardly glanced at the lavishness as they rushed to get to the first floor. By the time they hit the ground level and looked about, the two humans were both breathing heavy. Salgor was indecisive for just a moment, as he looked up and down this newest hall for a clue on which way that he should charge next.

  Cat spoke, “Quiet! I thought I just heard something.”

  The others became as still as statues. None dared move, and all ached to try hearing past their own breathing. Cat wondered what they would think if they knew that she had just told another lie to help out the party. She did listen intently down both sides of the hall, but her true motives were to slow down the dwarf and let the two young men relax a bit. She felt that the dwarf’s haste was going to have them blundering into a trap.

  Her green eyes swept over the party. “Now listen to me. I nay longer hear anything. Nay battle, nay screams, nay anything.”

  Salgor started to move, and she held a hand up in front of him. He looked up impatiently. Cat whispered, just loudly enough that they all had to be quiet in order to hear her. “Whatever happened has happened and finished. Much as I am worried about our friend, we won’t help him by rushing into the same thing he did without a little more caution.”

  Salgor glared at her, “I think you are still just afraid.”

  Cat returned the glare with as much steel in her eyes as Trestan and Petrow had ever seen. She stepped right up to the dwarf, reached down, and grabbed a fistful of his beard. Trestan and Petrow watched with gaping eyes, for dwarves were known to get extremely insulted at anyone who messed with their beards. Salgor didn’t move, just stared straight at Cat as she leaned over and brought her eyes up close to his. The two young humans looked between their friends and wondered if even a medusa would survive those glares.

  “Get this straight dwarf, I am not afraid!” Cat was unyielding as she spoke. “Mel is my friend too! I love that little guy so much. I wish he were here right now to talk my ears off.” Cat’s eyes got wet as she talked. “I will do whatever I can for him, for you, for any of us! That does not include running in and getting killed because I am too tired to move my legs once I get there. If he is dead then we can’t change that fate, and if he is alive it is because they don’t want him dead yet. We will not be doing him any favors if we rush in and get captured by the same people that may have hurt him. If we can get to these people, we want to be smart enough to win. I only fear dying alongside Mel for nay gain.”

  Salgor returned the hard stare, but raised one hand up to encircle Cat’s tense fist. He gently but firmly pulled her fingers away from his beard, and she willingly let go as she continued to stare him down. The dwarf warrior suddenly nodded his head and started to grin. “While we are at it, we’ll need an axe for you too. You seem strong enough to wield one.”

  The tension evaporated as Cat and Salgor separated. The dwarf had to add one more thing, brandishing his axe as he did to emphasize the point. “When I get a shot at that wizard, I will charge. Best way to deal with a wizard is to cut him in two before he can react.”

  Cat nodded, wiping at her eyes a bit, “I understand, but for now its time we went back to some attempt at stealth. Hear them before they hear us”

  * * * * *

  Cat, Salgor, Trestan and Petrow moved quietly along passage after passage. The pace slowed considerably, but Cat was going about things her way. Even her companions could not hear her footsteps despite shadowing her. Half-elven ears guided them when their own ears heard nothing. Salgor held his axe ready at all times, tensing and relaxing his grip with every corner turned. They were left to guess according to the architecture what kind of rooms and halls this had once been, and guess again at where they might need to go. They moved through the cold gloom of the keep with the fear that any doorway might bring them face to face with an enemy. Cat seemed to find a new path that appealed to her, down a wider corridor with many side passages. Four sets of eyes looked about warily as they crossed into this open section. The half-elf guessed this area might lead to the core of the structure.

  She turned her head to better listen to some perceived noise, unheard by the others. Though no one spoke, she glanced back and put a finger to her lips. Trestan was still trying to listen for any noise when Petrow made a strange motion. The handyman pointed at his own nose and made a sniffing gesture. Trestan inhaled deeply, detecting the smell of burning wood.

  They ventured further to investigate. Step after cautious step they crept along the ancient hallway. Other clues indicated the presence of others nearby. A light source reflected through a large entrance to a chamber. Voices echoed down the hall from the same general area. It seemed that at long last they might find some of their elusive hosts. They hoped they were dealing with a small number of people. It did not sound like the entire boatload of mercenaries and sailors were hiding around the corner, but the party from Troutbrook knew that they might still be outnumbered.

  Salgor’s caution faded. He took strides that almost put him beyond Cat in the lead. A few hurried steps and the dwarf would be in full view of anyone
that might be inside the room. The half-elf blocked his passage. Warrior and scout traded silent stares for a moment before Cat started gesturing with her hands. Trestan and Petrow glanced to a side passage that Cat pointed out. The passage was nothing more than a set of stairs ascending to the next floor. The companions could see the top of a balcony beyond the top of the stairs, likely overlooking the same room that was around the corner. The same light radiated into the staircase, and voices carried through the stairwell. Cat motioned for silence. Using hand signals, she indicated her intent to peek over the railing at the top of those stairs. Salgor scowled, but he held his tongue and relaxed his posture.

  The agile adventuress crept up the stairs with no more sound than a mouse’s breath. It amazed Trestan and Petrow that she could be so silent wearing armor and weapons. The woman was well trained in her craft. Even her crossbow and rapier seemed strapped in a way that neither swung carelessly. The two young men were so intent on Cat’s silence that they found themselves holding their breath. Foreign words emanated from the next room, flowing like a chant of some kind. A male voice, clear and distinct, sounded like Revwar. A female voice, assumed to be the dark abbess, joined the first. Although they could not understand the words, the tone gave them shivers. Cat stole her first glance over the balcony railing. She looked down into the next room for several heartbeats before ducking back into the stairwell. Cat frowned as she crept back down the stairs. The others restrained the urge to blurt out questions before she had reached them.

 

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