The Dungeoneers

by Jeffery Russell

  “The small favor is that there’s a limit to what a necromancer can animate,” Ruby said. “Each corpse they have up and walking requires a little of their power to maintain. They have to balance their number of servants with the amount of power they can manage.”

  “So every skeleton you kill increases the lich’s power?” Durham asked.

  “Well, sorta,” Thud said. “Likely he just uses the fresh power to make more of ‘em. Never ending stream of reinforcements, least ‘til he runs out of intact skulls. Based on the number of dead that Ruby says was in that graveyard don’t make that seem too likely of an occurrence. Walking dead things is the primary means for a necromancer to defend themselves. They got some other tricks too, granted, but most of their magery requires their target to already be dead. I may not know much about the specifics of necromancy but I do know that the best way to defend against it is with big, heavy things that crush bones. They needs an intact skull to animate the rest o’ the bones that go with it. Break the skulls and the skeletons go down for good.”

  He finished the last swallow from his mug. “Figure that’s enough time we killed by jawin’.”

  Thud gestured toward Mungo.

  “Reveal the chicken!”

  Mungo whipped the blanket away with dramatic flare.

  The hen blinked unhappily at the lantern light.

  “Go ahead and move that jewelry to the strongbox. Miss Cluck there will live to see another adventure.”

  -12-

  Morning in a tomb was much the same as evening in a tomb. At least nobody had objected to Durham bringing his mug of coffee in with him. Breakfast had been boiled pupae with mossbeard leaving Durham to settle with an extra cup of coffee as his pancake supply had dwindled to irrelevance. Thud and Ginny were next to the sarcophagus, crowbars in hand. Mungo was between them with an awkward looking metal contraption. Steel bands had been bolted to the sides of the sarcophagus, holding the lid securely in place. The two dwarves hoisted at the corners enough to raise the coffin an inch or so and Mungo slid one end of his contraption underneath the edge. He began working a lever on it and, with a great deal of clanking, it began to slowly raise the edge of the sarcophagus revealing a dark oblong hole in the floor.

  A smell rose from the darkness. A smell so strong it was a flavor. The sort of smell that coats one’s sinuses like a glaze. A smell like the forgotten container of cabbage, the potato at the bottom of the bin, a week old battlefield in summer, a rotting skunk drowned in a communal outhouse, a mummy's breath and boiling giblets, all rolled into one, tied with a bow and then left to ferment for a century.

  “Wasn't me,” Nibbly said.

  “Masks,” Thud ordered. The dwarves began rummaging through their packs, one by one producing a small cloth covered dome-shaped frame with affixed leather straps. A large pan was produced from somewhere and filled with water. Ginny added a few splashes of scented oils to it, gave it a stir then stood back as each dwarf dipped their mask into it. Durham found the mask in his own pack and followed suit. Once it was on his face it managed to at least take the edge off of the reek, dulling it with what seemed a combination of vinegar, clove and rose. The room now smelled like a funeral home rather than a home funeral. Thud's mask had a hole in it just large enough to allow his cigar to extrude.

  “All right,” Thud said, his voice slightly muffled. “Anyone starts feelin' woozy down there you pulls out. Trust me when I say you don't wants ta puke into one o' these masks. Like havin' a bowl o' Keldorian soup strapped to your face.”

  “Are we going to open the coffin?” Durham asked.

  “Aye, we'll get to it,” Nibbly said. “This bein' a fake tomb removes a bit o' incentive. At best it's going to be empty. At worst there's a trap or some nasty dead bloke just waitin' for the lid to open so he can jump out an' yell ‘boogy boogy’. We'll cart it outside in the sun and open it from a distance with the ballista pointin' at it.”

  Mungo was wielding his lantern pole again, lowering the light into the hole in the floor. The faelight revealed a flight of narrow stone steps descending into the darkness.

  “Different,” Ginny said.

  “Eh?” Thud asked.

  “The stonework. This ain't part of the original tomb. Amateur work. Not Magrazar's.”

  They rolled one of the dirt barrels in and sent it down the stairs, counting about thirty thumps before the final thud at the bottom.

  “Al'ight,” Thud said. “Marchin' order. Gong, you're up front. Mungo on Gong's shoulders, Ginny jest behind. Two crossbows af'er that and then I'll bring up rear with the humans.” He glanced around at the looting team. “Dadger, you follow us down to act as order runner if we need to bring a specialty team in. Nibbly, make sure everyone outside is ready to move. I 'spect this is where things are gonna start to get lively.”

  Gong waddled and clanked forward, his plate mail causing him to resemble a temple bell. Mungo was able to easily perch on one of his ham sized shoulders, dangling the light in front. He'd donned a new pair of goggles along with his breath mask, an array of different lenses fanned out around his head, each on a swivel arm allowing them to be moved in and out of place.

  Durham stepped in behind Ginny and the two crossbow wielding dwarves. One was Goin, the chicken keeper, Clink the other one. Clink was squat with a massive beard which he'd braided, drawn up at the sides and then wrapped around the top of his head like a turban. Durham tried to assume that this was possibly very stylish among dwarves. He had one glass eye that never quite seemed to line up with the real one which gave him a half-crazed look. Ruby stood next to him and Thud brought up the rear with Dadger.

  The stairs were steep and narrow. They opened out into a tall dome-shaped cavern, the carved stone of the stairway giving way to natural rock that had been worked and smoothed, the walls filled in places with stonework. Shadowy openings around the circumference suggested multiple passages and caverns beyond. Dozens of crates were stacked precariously in the center of the room. Ginny advanced cautiously, poking at the floor in front of her with her stick as she went.

  “These crates are new,” she said once she’d reached them. “Got merchant stamps on ‘em”

  “Recognize any?” Thud asked.

  Ginny shrugged. “Nibbly might. Looks like most of ‘em is empty. Ones I can see at least. Some of ‘em got letters on ‘em. ‘L’. ‘S’. This one got some papers in it.” She produced a pair of tongs and extracted a scroll from one of the smaller crates, carrying it back as if it were a snake. Ruby spent a moment examining it.

  “The seal on it is from a scribe in Keine.” She took the scroll from the tongs, cracked the wax and unrolled a few inches of scroll. “The letters are Karthorian but I don’t recognize the words. Poetic form. Possibly a chant of some kind.”

  Thud spat. “Ain’t a fan of mysteries in my dungeons,” he said. “We seen all them signs o’ someone bein’ here recently. Seems unlikely it was all just for deliverin’ crates though.”

  “This one got an ‘XL’ on it,” Ginny called. “Maybe they’s Bronjian numerals? That’s 40, ain’t it? There’s one with an ‘M’. That’s one of the big numbers. A hunnert or a thousand methinks. Don’t know what an ‘S’ would be though.”

  “Clothing sizes,” Durham said. There was a brief silence as everyone considered this.

  “For playing dress-up with the skellingtons?” Dadger asked.

  Durham shrugged. “Haven’t figured that bit out yet.”

  “We’ll have Nibbly go through ‘em all, see if anything else is in ‘em,” Thud said. “Gong, what’s yer take on the exits?”

  “Seven of ‘em, all natural stone that’s been worked. Best course is pick one and barricade the others.”

  Thud nodded. “All right, maintain ready status. Alaham knows he’s got company and there’s bound to be some blastback at some point. Dadger, bring Giblets in and tell Nibbly we need some constructin’ done down here.” He held his fae lamp high and approached one of the dark openings in the cavern
wall. “Let’s at least ‘ave a peek, eh?” Gong frowned but rearranged the vanguard with a few quick gestures.

  “Catacombs,” Thud said, peering into the gloom. “Shelves cut in the walls. No bones though.”

  “It connects through,” Durham said, pointing. Light from the fae lamp was dimly visible at the next opening to Thud’s right. A few minutes of experimenting with the lantern once Giblets arrived revealed that six of the openings were three looped passageways, all with empty internment shelves. The seventh had internment shelves like the others, choked with cobwebs, some containing a few scattered brown bones. It led straight, deeper. Nibbly set the construction crew to explore and secure the loops while he began going through the crates. The advance team reassembled at the seventh hall.

  They waited a minute while Ginny did an initial barrel check and then sent a chicken after it for good measure.

  The height of the dwarves in front of Durham allowed him a clear view of the dark passageway ahead as they moved forward. He felt like he was walking into a throat. Mungo's light bobbed in front as the gnome examined the ground and walls for potential dangers. Ginny followed just behind him, holding her lantern pole up high and watching the ceiling.

  The passage twisted back and forth, rising and falling but mostly falling. Though the stone had been worked it was still uneven in spots, knobs of cave-stone or dips to catch the unwary foot, seeping cracks in the walls. Small stalactites crowded the ceiling, providing a perpetual drizzle. Their shadows bobbed long and dark in the swaying yellow light. The floor was wet beneath their feet, the air thick and still. They moved forward slowly, Ginny and Mungo constantly pausing the line to double-check various bits of debris and tangles of bone. The dwarves in the second row stared fiercely at the bones they passed, as if daring them to move. Occasionally they jabbed at the air with their crossbows. Miss Cluck wandered on ahead of them, zig-zagging and giving the occasional annoyed squawk as she pecked at the fresh worm dangling in front of her.

  “A moment,” Ruby said after a few minutes. She stepped to one of the shelves and used her lantern pole to clear the drifts of web aside. After a moment of looking she stepped to a different shelf and did the same.

  “None of these are complete,” she said. “Most of the skulls are missing, many of the major bones...” She moved to a third shelf. “No spine on this one, There's a skull but it's broken.”

  “Spare parts and leftovers, mebbe,” Thud said. “Only reason I can think of wot 'splains these just lyin' about rather than crawlin' after us.”

  “You need a whole skeleton for it to animate?” Durham asked.

  “Well, at least enough of it that it's of actual use,” Thud said. “No good just animatin' a ribcage and some teeth. Gotta have an intact skull, though. Without that you might as well be trying to animate a bunch o' sticks.”

  “Many of them empty, like the ones back in the cave,” Ruby said. “No dust either.”

  “It’s like the world’s creepiest bunkhouse,” Thud muttered.

  “Archway ahead,” Ginny announced. They all turned their attention forward. Mungo rolled a gyrolantern ahead. The cave passage terminated into a hallway, bare and plain, constructed rather than natural cave. Miss Cluck stood about ten feet in, unharmed but no longer advancing as she'd finally managed to secure her worm. She peered about myopically, occasionally pecking at the floor.

  “Well, now, I'm s'picious as all hell o' that,” Thud said. “Dadger, go tell Nibbly to bring the team in and start working this hall and tell the support team to move up. I want help close.”

  Dadger scurried off, soon becoming just a light bobbing in the darkness behind them and then was gone. Ginny had rolled the barrel up and she and Mungo moved into the hall slowly, pushing the barrel ahead and scrutinizing the walls. Gong followed them closely, Goin and Clink just behind with their crossbows raised. Thud let them get about fifteen feet ahead before stepping forward, waving Ruby and Durham to follow. The silence lay thickly across them, the shuffling of their feet seeming shockingly loud. Halfway down the hall Durham felt his stomach lurch madly. Everyone froze.

  “Y'all felt that?” Thud asked.

  “Aye,” Ginny said. She squinted at the walls suspiciously. “Sumthin' jest happened. Felt like I fell offa wall, kinda.”

  They waited a long silent minute.

  “Hmph,” Thud said. “Well, nothing seems to 'ave come of it. Maybe that was just Alaham wakin' up.”

  “Shouldn't Dadger have returned by now?” Ruby asked.

  “Yeh,” Thud said. “Reckon he should've.” He peered back down the hall behind them. “All right. Ginny, mark yer spot there. Time to backtrack and make sure we've got ever'thing secure from the entrance to here. I’m suddenly gettin’ a bad feelin’ an’ I want ter make it go away.”

  They retreated down the hall, Miss Cluck bobbing behind them apparently having decided that the light was a good thing to stay next to. They arrived back at the arch.

  “Well, shit,” Thud said.

  -13-

  The catacombs that should have lain beyond the arch at the start of the hall were gone. A crumbled stone alcove was all that was visible through the arch.

  “Ambulatory chambers!” Mungo squeaked excitedly.

  “That was so smooth, too,” Ginny said. Her voice was hushed and breathless with awe.

  Thud arched an eyebrow at her and emitted an impatient puff of smoke.

  “Uh, sir, sorry, it's just...” Ginny paused, her gaze never leaving the walls. “We used to discuss the possibility back in my buildin' days but I've never actually seen...”

  “Pull it together,” Thud snapped.

  “Yes, sir. Moving dungeon parts is what we're talking. That lurch we felt back there was the actually the entire hallway moving. Did it so clean we scarce even noticed. Dunno if we went up, down or sideways but we's in a diff'rent place than wot we was. We'd kicked the idea around, like I was sayin', but couldn't think of a way of doin' it that wouldn't end with all the involved mechernisms corroding into junk within a century or two.”

  “Tellin' me this Alaham figgered somethin' out that was stumpin' all o' you architect types? Dwarven architects? Finest in all the lands 'n' all that?”

  “Ermm, yes sir, it would seem so,” Ginny's voice was slightly abashed.

  “Was it sumthin' we triggered?”

  “Not unless there's some sort of counterbalance involved that we caused to shift by walking in the hall. Possible, but a system like that would...” her voice trailed off. “Actually, with the engineering required to have a moving hall I 'spect a counterbalance trigger might not be too much of a stretch. Ordinarily that's some pretty tricky building, especially one that will maintain over time. Other than that, someone or something would have had to have known where we were and have manually triggered it. Unless…that animated mechanism that triggered the boulder trap?”

  Mungo shook his head. “An animated trigger, perhaps, but you’d still need well maintained machinery. Oiling and repairing seems an impractical use of limited animated resources.”

  Thud pulled the mask off of his face and gave the air an experimental sniff.

  “Well, the stink ain't so bad at least.” He puffed furiously at his cigar as if attempting to rectify that. “Gong and Mungo, you go down and see what's at the other end of the hall. Gong should be enough to trigger a counterbalance if there is one and from here we can sees what happens. I'm also good and curious to know what's at the other end o' this hall now that it’s moved. Safe enough here so Goin and Clink, go with 'em jest in case there's anything clatterin' around down there.” The dwarves moved off slowly, their pool of light and Miss Cluck following them into the darkness. Thud turned his attention to Ginny.

  “Now, I ain't callin' you out or nuthin' but seems to me that if this hallway moves around there's a seam somewhere that didn't get spotted. Might be good to get eyes on that so we know what to look for.”

  Ginny nodded silently and began studying the corner of the hallwa
y by the arch. Thud knelt at the threshold with a piece of chalk and drew a chalk line across the threshold with a number 1 at each end.

  “This is a new one so I'm inventin' this system as we go,” he said. “Figure if things start movin' around again then this might be a way to tell where and how much.”

  “The seam is here,” Ginny said. She was standing in the archway, looking at the frame. “It's bisected right down the middle of the lintel work.”

  “Wot's that tell us?”

  “Tells us that the hall likely moved horizontally or vertically rather than spinning. Corners would grind if it tried to spin...less'n they’re sheared or rounded...hmmm. Concentric circles, maybe…”

  There was a whistle from far down the hall.

  “OI!” Thud yelled.

  “Room down here.” Goin's yell was distant but clear. “Forty yards of hall, room with...WAIT! STOP!”

  Thud's head snapped around at the yell and he was off down the hall at a sprint, the rest of them following on his heels, not having anything more pressing to do. The far end of the hall was in darkness. They reached it quickly. Beyond was a pentagonal room, archways evenly spaced around it. Gong, Mungo, Goin and Clink, however, were nowhere to be seen. Miss Cluck stood at the hall end, alone, blinking at the empty room, apparently mid-catharsis.

  Thud grinned.

  “Well, looks like we found us an adventure after all,” he said happily.

  “I thought you hated adventure,” Durham said.

  “Aye, that I do.” He dabbed at his eyes. “That don't mean I don't miss it sumthin' fierce though.

  “Seems we got a new objective,” he continued, switching to his leader voice. “Split up ain't no way to proceed so's we need to figure ourselves outta this and find whatever is controlling this so we can get everyone lined back up.”