The Demon's Blade

by Steven Drake

  Darien looked over at Jerris, who had a look of sublime wonder upon his face. The older half-elf could not help but chuckle to himself. He had seen many sights while serving the Master, but there had always been some mission or objective which consumed his thoughts, absorbing all his focus, so that he did not look at his surroundings so much as assess them, relentlessly observing and analyzing every detail to gain some small advantage. It occurred to him that while he possessed knowledge of many lands and peoples, he had never truly looked at the world simply to look at it, as Jerris seemed to be doing.

  That was what he had been taught in the Order, after all. In the Order of the Shade, everything was reduced to its most basic level. Art, wonder, beauty, and decoration held no place in the world of the shades. Nothing has value, but as a means to an end. If a thing serves as a means to your end, then it is an asset and should be used. If it serves as a hindrance, then it is an obstacle, and should be eliminated. If it is neither, then it is nothing, and should be treated as such. It does not matter what kind of thing it is, whether it is a weapon, or a castle, or a man, or a kingdom of men. There is no difference. Their worth is what they contribute to the end, no more and no less. Nothing else matters.

  "Well, what do you think?" Darien mockingly asked his open mouthed companion.

  "Amazing!" Jerris exclaimed. "I had heard the dwarven cities were a sight to behold, but I never imagined anything could be so large. How do they even move those doors? They must be fifty feet high and weigh as much as a house. "

  "The gates are partially hollow,” Darien explained to his amazed young charge. “They have a solid inner and outer shell, and in between there are narrow stairs and passages where dwarves can actually move about inside. The doors themselves have iron wheels underneath them, which can be locked and unlocked. The bottom level of each door is actually open to the ground. Once the wheels are unlocked, a band of dwarves pushes against the inner shell of the door from the inside, moving with the door. Despite their size, the doors can be closed and locked in just a few minutes."

  "Really?" Jerris asked in astonishment. "It takes a few minutes to shut the city gates in Kantu, and they are little higher than a single man's height."

  "Kantu is rather a poor comparison. The dwarves, however, are masters of siege craft. They can fire arrows and worse from portals higher up on the doors, and from portals in the mountainside. They can hurl boulders and flaming tar from high above on the upper levels. It is nearly impossible to breach a dwarven stronghold with any amount of force. There are also countless secret entrances hidden everywhere up and down the mountain. Most of them can only be opened from the inside, and they can use them to resupply without their attackers being the wiser.” Darien looked over at Jerris, whose eyes were wide with wonder. He smiled inwardly, and continued. “There is a story, I do not know if it is true or not, that a powerful Duke came to power and united several of the northern duchies against their dwarven lords. He crowned himself King and laid siege to the dwarven city of Talanog. The siege supposedly lasted from May until December, with no sign of any supplies going into or out of the dwarven city. The harvest was very poor that year, and the winter was harsh. By the end of the siege, the new King's armies were starving, with no sign that the dwarves would yield. Finally, the dwarves parlayed with the captains of the armies, offering them food and titles in exchange for lifting the siege and overthrowing the King. The dwarves had been receiving supplies through secret tunnels all along. The captains of the armies agreed, and the King and his supporters were then easily defeated."

  "That's certainly an incredible story."

  "As I said, I'm not certain it's true. The dwarves care more about craft and trade than they do about weapons and wars, but they are formidable foes.”

  "Alright, so what now?" Jerris asked.

  "We go inside of course," Darien replied. "We should be careful. Avirosa will likely have spies watching the road. We will try to slip by unnoticed, but if we can't, we'll have to put them off our trail in the lands beyond."

  With that, they stepped inside the great doors. First, they passed through a long stone tunnel which sloped slightly downward. Ordinary torches lined the outer walls. The smoke flowed up the walls and along the high ceiling towards the entrance. The tunnel bustled with wagons, horses, and travelers on foot. The scent of fire and smoke mixed with the smell of people and animals to create a mildly unpleasant odor. The tunnel bore straight on into the mountain for about a hundred feet, where it finally ended in a stone archway. The path then opened into the huge space of the main plaza.

  "Wow!" Jerris exclaimed upon getting his first look at the city of Vorog. Much of the mountain had been hollowed out over the centuries. The cavern was round, or nearly so. The dome shaped ceiling loomed high above, so high that it would have appeared as nothing but a red gray expanse see were it not for the sparkle. Thousands of sparkling tiles of all colors lined the ceiling, and appeared to the people below as sparkling points of light and color. In the center of the cavern was a massive triangular pillar extending to the apex of the cavern. Three statues jutted forth from the pillar, one upon each side. The proud dwarven figures appeared to be emerging from the very rock faces. Each depicted a proud, long-bearded, thick-muscled dwarf. One appeared to be clad in plate armor and held a massive two-handed iron axe. Another wore overalls with a smock, and held a smith's hammer. The third appeared to wear only leather pants, with a bare and muscular upper body holding a miner’s pickaxe. The massive statues gave a clear sense of the power and skill of those who made them.

  Lining the outer walls of the cavern were entrances of various shapes and sizes carved into the rock. There were inns, bakeries, tradesmen, smithies, tailors, and all the usual shops one sees in any large city. Narrow grooves had been carved into the floor for decoration, depictions of heroes, kings, wild creatures, abstract shapes, and spiraling patterns. Some ways off to the right, the road sloped into a ramp which headed up to another level, and then on that level, the road continued around the city until it ran up another ramp up to a third level. Horses and carts passed up and down the wide path on the first three levels. After the third, the ascending ramps narrowed, but continued at least ten more levels that could be accessed on foot. To the left was another ramp that descended to the lower levels of the city, and eventually into the mines far below where the dwarves extracted ores and gems from the depths of the earth. A second semicircular tunnel nearly identical to the one they passed through opened at the opposite side, leading out of the city to other lands further eastward.

  "Where does the light come from?" Jerris asked curiously, noticing the absence of torches. "Is it some kind of magic?"

  "Well, yes and no," Darien spoke thoughtfully. "It was the dwarves who developed magical torches like the one I gave you when we first met. However, they are technically fire magic, and are not all that different from regular torches. The principle difference is that the smoke is reabsorbed into the torch. They are a practical solution to the problem of smoke in underground areas. They use those torches during the night hours. During the day, the light you see comes entirely from the sun. As I understand it, the light is gathered in special sun rooms high above, and then sent all over the city by a system of enchanted crystals and mirrors. I cannot imagine how they were able to design such a complex method, but it appears to work well enough. There is also a main torch high in that central pillar that provides light to this cavern at night."

  "How interesting. Can we go see these rooms?"

  "This is not a sightseeing trip…" the older half-elf crossed his arms and groaned in frustration. “We don't need to linger here any longer than we must, and the dwarves don't allow travelers to wander around the city to discover all their secrets." Jerris grumbled audibly, as this companion led him off to the right towards the ramp.

  "So where are we going then?"

  "I want to visit an acquaintance of mine," Darien answered. "There is a bookseller, a very old dwarf who may be a
ble to read that book with the prophecy in it. The book may or may not be helpful, but it is the only lead we have."

  "Then you really do intend to look for the city!" Jerris said.

  "You seem surprised," Darien said with a smirk.

  "I guess I didn't really expect you to take it seriously," the lad replied. "I’m not really sure I take it seriously myself. I was just glad that you allowed me to travel with you. I didn't like the idea of trying to get away from Avirosa on my own."

  "That's quite a sensible attitude," Darien said in amusement. "Evading him remains our first priority, but we should investigate as we can. We need to find someone who can read that book. This bookseller may be able to read some of it, or he may know someone who can. Either way, there's very little risk in simply asking. If there are any spies watching or following us, it will be easier to mark their presence if we wander about. The longer someone follows a target, the likelier the target is to realize, and I am no easy target.”

  They headed up the ramps and into the upper levels of the city. On the higher levels, the streets gradually narrowed until they were little more than hallways. They tunneled some ways back into the mountain, forming a maze of interlocking passages, each one much like the next. Only the shops and residences differed. Most of the doorways had names carved into stone above them, though a few had etched metal plaques instead. Darien wound his way through the maze of dim hallways until he came to a wooden doorway. The bronze plaque above the door read 'Tobin Tostag, Scribe and Bookseller'.

  Darien knocked on the door, and a white-bearded dwarf answered the door. He stood about four feet tall with a white beard that stretched halfway to the floor, and a mustache so thick that his mouth was barely visible beneath it. Sharp piercing brown eyes peered from beneath bushy white eyebrows, which reached nearly up to the dwarf’s crown of thick white hair. From what little was visible of his face, it was apparent that he was very old. Behind his eyes, one could clearly see a keen intellect and a long life's worth of knowledge and wisdom. He wore a long brown woolen robe with a white, fluffy fringe, and plain white woolen clothes beneath. Despite his obvious age, the man possessed strong thick limbs, and appeared as sturdy as the mountain itself.

  "Well what do you want?" the dwarf asked in a gruff tone. His voice was deep and earthy and seemed to fit well with the stone of the city.

  "Tobin," Darien replied. "I have a book I'd like you to take a look at."

  "I'm not interested in the books of common men," Tobin replied gruffly. "I don't know what book you could have that would be interesting enough to require my attention. There are many shops on the lower levels with competent scribes that might aid you…"

  "Do you not remember me Tobin?" Darien asked as he pulled back the hood of his cloak.

  The old dwarf raised an eyebrow and looked up at the half-elf before him curiously. At first, the dwarf seemed not to notice anything. It was only when his gaze looked up far enough to see the pommel of the sword just barely visible over his visitor’s left shoulder, that his eyes suddenly brightened and his manner changed quickly to one of friendly familiarity.

  "Ah yes," Tobin replied. The old dwarf’s voice was worn, deeper than most, but with unmistakable kindness, and a wisdom that only comes when great age is combined with great intellect and a lifetime of study. "Darien, my boy, still alive, I see."

  "For now, at least. Death is always just a step behind me."

  Tobin smiled at first, but then poked his head out his door and looked to the right and left down the hallway. "Come in. We must speak. I take it this young man is with you?"

  "He is. I have unintentionally drawn him into my… situation."

  "Say no more," Tobin interrupted. "He may enter as well then, and his name is?"

  "I'm Jerris," the lad spoke up for himself.

  "Then a warm greeting to you, Jerris." Tobin smiled and bowed. Jerris bowed uncomfortably back. "Come in, and welcome."

  The inside of Tobin's residence was filled with shelves of books. Most of them looked to be ancient beyond the measure of men. A great many were written in languages that neither Darien nor his young companion had ever seen or heard spoken. Books also littered the floor, strewn about the disorganized dwarf’s residence. The two visitors took care not to step on them as they followed their host through the shelves and finally into an open room with a low stone table in the center. The table was carved directly from the rock, as were so many other things in the dwarf city. The various shelves and cabinets, filled with black iron pots, pans, forks, and other cooking implements, made it clear that this room served as kitchen as well as dining room. Against the right hand wall was a line of several purplish gray chairs, made of some type of unknown metal. Tobin pulled three out and set them around the table.

  "Have a seat then," the old dwarf said warmly. Tobin's chairs were clearly not made with half-elves in mind, as both Darien and Jerris had to bend their legs quite awkwardly to the side in order to sit in the dwarf sized chairs. "I do apologize for the uncomfortable accommodations. I don't get many human visitors, or half-elves for that matter."

  "Actually, we're both half-elves," Jerris interrupted, lowering his cloak to show his telltale ears.

  "Really," Tobin marveled. "One half-elf is rare enough in these parts. Truly, the Greatfather of Mountains has blessed me with this day, to see two half-elves in Vorog of all places.

  "Thanks, I guess," Jerris replied sheepishly while his companion chuckled slightly at the lad’s awkwardness.

  "What is it you wanted to tell me, Tobin?" Darien asked. "Unless I miss my guess, someone has already come looking for me."

  "Perceptive as always I see. Yes, and more than one."

  "More than one?" Darien asked, furrowing his brow. "You mean two different people have asked about me, or the same one twice?"

  "Bah, open your ears and pay attention, young whelp," Tobin scolded. "I said more than ONE, not more than once. I meant precisely what I said and nothing else."

  "My apologies, Tobin," Darien replied, "but I know my enemy better than you do. The man after me is named Avirosa. He likes to do all his interrogations personally. He mistrusts his servants, and not without reason, as his skill far surpasses theirs. It would be… unusual for him to send one of them to do any interrogating. Did the second visitor ask as many questions as the first, or did he just ask if you had seen me since your first visit?"

  "She, actually," Tobin replied. "And she didn't seem to be working with the earlier fellow, and that is just as well. I hope not to ever see that first fellow again. He came in the dead of winter last year asking about you. He was a thin, spindly man, with dirty white hair. Had he not walked into my residence here, I would have thought him a corpse."

  "That would be Avirosa. You didn't lie to him, did you? That would have been… unwise."

  "Oh no, I told him the exact truth, and all he wanted of it," Tobin pulled a pipe from somewhere in his robes, and tapped it gently on the table. "I told him that you had been in my store a few times, and that I hadn't seen you for nine months. I told him flat that you weren't fool enough to tell me where you were going and you could be halfway across the world to anywhere by now. I also said I knew who you really were, and that I knew about that weapon you carry." Tobin fixed his eyes on the Demon Sword for a few moments, then shut his eyes, shivering slightly. Jerris looked over at the old dwarf and then at the sword with a confused and curious look. "My apologies, Darien. I did not wish to aid your enemies, but that man nigh stopped my heart. His eyes… so cold, like there's nothing behind them."

  "No apology is necessary," Darien replied in a conciliatory tone. "You would have gained nothing by attempting to resist him, nor would it have been any help to me. He would have gotten the information he wanted anyway, and might have done you harm. If he thought you my friend, he might have taken you captive as an attempt to draw me out. He possesses a devious and cruel mind. He may well return. I would not hold you in any less esteem if you wish us to be gone. I have alre
ady dragged enough innocent people into my difficulties." He looked over at Jerris as he spoke.

  "Hmm, no I think not," Tobin chuckled, lit his pipe, and took a long draw from it before continuing. "Frightening he may be, but fear only goes so far. I have enough friends of my own, and he would find it difficult, magic or not, to attempt any hostility here. You'll understand if I inform certain people the true identity of this man, and what he is doing, once you're on your way, that is."

  "That would be wise, but be on your guard all the same,” Darien cautioned. “Be discreet, and you may as well say that I intimidated you into helping me and letting me get away. I don't intend to return to this city again. Now tell me about this woman that was asking about me."

  "Hmm, well, I cannot help but be somewhat disappointed that I will not see you again," Tobin leaned back and let out a sigh, then blew a ring of smoke that drifted lazily up toward the ceiling. "You are perhaps the most interesting fellow who has come through my doors, and you play a fine game of chess. I regret that I will not have a chance to know you better. You deserve a better fate than you have received, I think, but that could be said of a great many of us." Tobin fell silent for a while, as if his mind had suddenly drifted far away.

  "Tobin, about the woman." Darien coaxed the dwarf out of his silent contemplation.

  "Oh, yes," Tobin said, returning to the conversation. "She came in about two weeks ago. She didn't seem at all like that Avirosa character. It was obvious from her clothes and her speech that she came from somewhere far in the south. She didn't seem to know that she wasn't the first person asking me questions. She asked many of the same things that the ghostly fellow did."