Chapter Twenty Four: Hot Iron, Live Steam
With a finally fleshy rip Nanny Tatters' hide slid to the floor, crumpling in massive folders and creases. There was surprisingly little blood but Kaelin still shuddered when she looked at the pink and white ruin that was Nanny Tatters' flayed form, the blue light trickling from her now lipless mouth, sifting between her hand span long fangs. There was something so utterly soulless about that blue rimmed orb of an eye that Kaelin reckoned that she preferred Valodrael's gaze of dying light. At least you knew with him that if you looked into the void long enough that it would blink at you were as Nanny Tatters was just a gulf, an abyss that promised to drive you to madness with its eternal emptiness. And she was under the control of Jeremiah.
Kaelin shuddered again. Absolutely nothing good could come of this, she was sure of that. Then she frowned, looking from the hulking, skinless form before her to the tunnel entrance, both the one they had entered the lair by and the one that led on deeper into the Underworld. She grinned as the likely effect of trying to squeeze the dragon's bulk through those tubes sprung into her mind. If said dragon had still been alive it would have been ghastly but as she was now as insensible as a rock Kaelin couldn't help but smile at the coming entertainment.
She was not the only one smiling as Thorian crossed the floor, flipping open the magic bag he had found. Grabbing a handful of the gristly prize he began to shove it into the bags open top. Humming happily to himself, he pulled and pulled and pulled and the bag contained and contained and contained, its sides never bulging and its opening never straining to accept what was being put into it.
"You know something?" Thorian called, even as he continued to stuff the dragon skin into it, "The bag isn't getting any heavier. How'd it do that you suppose?"
"Oh look out," the bag called out, "It's a battle of wits and you're going unarmed."
"I may not be witty," Thorian admitted, "But I am solid and so is the ground." Standing up as he shoved the last trailing edge of dragon hid into the bag, he dropped the bag on the ground. It was a pretty solid sounding smack.
"Oh, look at you," the bag sneered, face down on the floor, "Attempting greatness. Pity it's just an attempt!"
"Now come on," Thorian picked up the bag and dusted it off, "There's no need to be like that. I know we haven't got of to the right sort of start, I guess I should have asked before I started stuffing that stuff in you but I'm sure that if we just try we can all be the goodest of friends."
"Since when have you lot been friends?" the bag snapped, "All you do is yell at each other."
"Nah we don't, not all the time," Thorian shook his head, "Well, expect for perhaps him." He jabbed a thumb at Jeremiah but the rounded priest was busy admiring his great hideous servant and didn't notice as he walked round and round Nanny Tatters' tailless, skinless body, tracing where treads of blue light had woven themselves into her very muscle structure. He'd never tried that prayer on something that was minus it's skin and so had never had the chance to study how the power motivated its body's movements after death.
"Yeah, him," Thorian admitted to the bag, "He's a bit of an outlier but the rest of us are friends. You could be too, if you just try."
The bag made an indelicate noise.
"It must have been very lonely down here," Thorian tried to be understanding, "What with no one to talk to nicely. I bet she didn't talk to you nicely, I bet she just used you and then dumped you on that heap when she didn't have no use for you no more. I bet that's why you are so unhappy, you've been all lonely for so long..."
"Atch!" the bag squalled and twitched as if it was trying to wriggle, "I don't need your pity, you make me sick!"
"Now come on," Thorian sat down, "We can be friends if we each give a little. What do you like to eat?"
"I don't eat, moron!" the bag said slowly from where Thorian had put it down on the floor.
"You have a mouth, don't you?" Thorian asked, "So you can eat. What do you like to eat?"
"Oh heaven help me," if a bag had hands it would have been pinching the bridge of its nose, "Listen, dumb-as, I am a BAG. I was made for the holding of items, keeping them safe, untouched and unbroken. Get that through your head. I was created to contain things safely and undamaged. It would have hardly served the wizard who created me to give me the ability to digest the stuff he put in me, would it?"
"You talk," Thorian pointed out, "Things that talk need to eat."
"I am not an animal," the bag said with disgust, "I... Am... A... BAG! I am a magically created object, if I do not do the purpose for which I was created I cease to exist. Get it!?! If I started digesting the stuff people put into me then I would cease to exist, finished, undone, ultima carmina. Yeash!"
"Um," Thorian frowned, "What does digest mean any way."
The bag let lose a strangled sounding yell of frustration.
"It is what your body does to food after you eat it," Ulrich tried to explain, seeing that the bag might have been supplied with an infinite amount of space but apparently a very finite amount of patience.
"Er," Thorian scratched his head.
"When you eat," Ulrich tried to explain, "Your body breaks down the food to use it so we have energy."
"It does?" Thorian seemed genuinely surprised by this idea.
"Of course it does," Ulrich managed to keep a handle of his exasperation, "That's why you get hungry again after you have eaten. Think about it, if nothing happened to the food after you swallowed it then you would never get hungry ever again."
"Oh," Thorian nodded, "Does it have anything to do with all those funny wiggly sausage things we have inside of us."
"What?" Ulrich looked as if he regretted betraying his ignorance of what Thorian meant almost as soon as he said it.
"Those funny sausage things that are inside us," Thorian explained, "That least I think they must be inside us, they seem to be inside everything else that I have ever had a scrap with, even those werewolves. Though I don't know if there are any inside of that big dragon Jerry's got though. Should we ask?"
"Yes, there'll be some of those sausage inside of that one as well," Kaelin helped Ulrich out, "Just about everything that is a live or was alive has some of them."
"Right," Thorian nodded and then frowned again, "And you are saying that this here bag doesn't have any?"
"Yes, you great dumb-as!" the bag snapped, "Clean out your cloth ears and listen why don't you?"
"Then how come it talks?" Thorian asked, "If it don't have any of the sausages, how can it be talking to us?"
"Because some wizard made it out of magic," Kaelin stated, "It wasn't ever truly alive and you have to wonder how he made it for it to have such a nasty mouth on it. Do you suppose that it could be an imp or something bound into the leather?" She lent down to have a closer look at the stitching.
"Sister, if I had a proper mouth I'd spit in your eye," the bag informed her.
"I still don't understand how all the funny wriggly sausages break down food," Thorian admitted, "They didn't seem to have an hammers in them."
"I don't think any body is a hundred percent sure," Kaelin admitted, "But it is how food goes from being food to being poo."
Ulrich sighed and put a hand over his face.
"Yes, thank you Kaelin for that," he muttered.
"You know you love me really," Kaelin smacked him on the arm.
"Do I?" Ulrich raised an eyebrow at her.
Jeremiah mark two stepped up to the group, raising a hand hesitantly, his eyes darting about the cavern as if trying to follow the progress of something the others couldn't see.
"As much as I hate to interrupt," he said, "But the decay of the magic in here is increasing at a disproportionate rate. I calculate that we do not have much more time before we are going to find out the hard way what is going to happen once the last threads part company."
"That doesn't sound good," Ulrich admitted.
"It isn't," Estella snapped, stuffing books, crystals and small magical apparatus into her satchel as fast as she could go, "Time's a wasting people, let's grab what we want and get out of here."
"Let's move on," Thorian stood up and slung the strap of the talking bag over his head and one shoulder so its strap hung across his chest bolas style.
"Hum, that will be a problem I am afraid," Jeremiah the first tugged at his beard, "Even if we manage to strip the bones utterly clean, I don't think they will fit through the door."
"Leave it then," Kaelin snapped, grabbing a couple of gem stones that looked fairly valuable.
"My dear Kaelin," Jeremiah smiled, "After all the effort I've had to put into finally having my own dragon at my beck and call I am not about to give it up at the first inconvenience, just let me think."
"I advise you to hurry," Jeremiah the second suggested.
"When I want advise from a two dimensional excuse for a pretext I'll ask for it," Jeremiah the first snapped and Kaelin stared as Jeremiah the second flinched, his bat wings shifting uneasily, the copy of Hat riding on his miter buzzing uneasily. The two Hats seemed to start having a conversation, buzzing quietly back and forth. Strangely enough the one that belong to Jeremiah the second seemed to be more confident and outspoken.
"Be quiet!" Jeremiah the first snapped and his Hat stilled with a final, cut short buzz, then snapped its wings shut and held still. The one with Jeremiah the second continued to buzz, although in a slightly quieter 'voice'. Kaelin found herself grinning at the idea that it was muttering uncomplimentary things about Jeremiah the first.
"I said be quiet!" said Jeremiah snapped again, an ugly look flicking across his face, unseen to those behind him. However, Jeremiah the second could read the way the wind was blowing just from the tone of his creator's voice and put up a hand to still his Hat. The moth did so most unwillingly.
Jeremiah the first raised his arms, shook back his sleeves and began chanting a new prayer that they hadn't heard him use before. The air around Nanny Tatters' mortal remains shimmered and glistened, becoming more akin to water than air. Inside the rippling globe of power the skinless dragon creaked and whined. Ulrich frowned and lent forward. It appeared that Nanny Tatters was ever so slightly smaller.
Jeremiah the second began bustling round, doing a fair impression of a collie dog herding sheep as he hustled everyone that would listen to him to start heading towards the tunnel entrance closest to them. Unfortunately that meant the tunnel that lead them deeper into the Underworld but his insistence that they really needed to be going was infectious and they started agreeing with him, even if they didn't know why.
Jeremiah the first continued to chant, fingers beginning to twitch through the air, weaving the threads of power round his prize. Ulrich frowned some more as he looked over his shoulder. The undead beast definitely seemed to be smaller then when they had fought it.
Jeremiah the first sweated and strained at it, mouth set in a grim line of determination, unwilling to give up until...
With a clap of noise fit to pop ear drums Nanny Tatters went from being the size of an elephant and a big one at that, to being the size of a horse. The in-rushing air burst the bubble of the spell and left her standing, still tailless and skinless, in a fraction of the space she had originally taken up.
"Well, well, well," Jeremiah the first smiled as he walked round her, inspecting his handy work, "What a useful little spell. I wonder what else it might just work on."
"Uh oh," Thorian muttered, glancing about to see if there was any other way of getting out of the fix they now found themselves in.
"Don't even think about it," Kaelin snarled.
"Can we please argue the matter over later?" Jeremiah the second begged, "I really don't think we should stay here!"
"Are you trying to give me advise about what is best," Jeremiah the first's eyes narrowed, stepping towards his summoned servant.
"Of course not," Jeremiah the second backed away, holding up his hands in a placating gesture, "It... it... it's just that the magic in this place is about to come undone and I really don't think..."
"And just who gave you permission to think?" Jeremiah the first's eyes narrowed as he stepped into the cave mouth, the remains of Nanny Tatter's plodding at his heels. Power was gathering around his finger and Jeremiah the second cringed, "I do not recall giving you permission to think. Do you think that I haven't read Michael Azrael's magnum opus. I know exactly what..."
Both Jeremiahs, both the first and the second staggered slightly as the last threads of magic woven into the lair of Nanny Tatters part company from the shape they had been forced into. Most of the group had retreated away from the altercation happening at the tunnel entrance, not wishing to be caught in the cross fire of Jeremiah the first disintegrating his creation. Kaelin and Thorian hovered, unsure of what they wanted to do but equally sure that standing by and not doing anything was wrong. Ulrich and the Ash Elves of the Snake Clan turned their heads at the sound of popping stone and the crunching, cracking, snapping cacophony that followed, the grinding echo of stone turning on stone vibrating through the very bedrock around them.
"What is going on?" Ulrich demanded from where he sat on the back of Peter the centipede.
"I can't see," Estella Blackwood craned her neck but being still smaller than the rest of the group, couldn't see passed their crowded shoulders, especially as Marmaduke the automaton stood in the way.
"Neither can I," Kaelin called back in frustration, trying to make Thorian get out of her way.
"I can!" Thorian yelled, mouth falling open, eyes wide.
In Nanny Tatters' cavern the columns of rock that looked as if they had stood for eons passed where twisting, breaches in their structure grinding and groaning over each as sections of the pillars turned in opposite directions or at different speeds to each other, shards of rock spraying out from the gaps with pops and cracks like black powder shots.
As Thorian gaped, one column twisted beyond endurance, writhed and then the top broken free with a sound that shook the whole world. It lent, tottered, quivered as it lurched further and further away from the vertical and then it went passed the critical threshold, the speed of its collapse increasing, the noise a battery of both the ears and the chest as the sound alone punched through them.
"Moving on!" some how Kaelin made herself heard above the thunderous roar of the falling stones and matched action to advise, turning to run, grunting as Thorian and Jeremiah the second somehow shouldered passed her side by side, belting into the darkness of the tunnel. Grabbing Estella's hand Kaelin made a concerted effort to catch up with the orc crossbreed and the better copy of their disgraced priestly companion, even as she flinched away from were Ulrich light a standard light stick almost in her face. Not that she objected a second later as she vaulted a leg breaking stone she would have fallen flat over if she hadn't seen it in the sudden flood of bouncing, jolting light. Behind her Jeremiah the first scrambled into the tunnel mouth only just ahead of the fall of stones that had become an avalanche. He began to slacken his pace once he was in the safety of the tunnel and opened his mouth to call the others back before they ran off with the light all together. Then his eyes saw the spreading network of cracks on the ceiling of the tunnel and his mouth went dry. A second later a fist sized chunk smacked him in the shoulder as it dropped.
Ahead, at the back of the pack, Estella tripped and went down, scrapping the cloth of her soft trousers open and shredding the skin of her knee. Kaelin yelped as she felt the tug on her arm, almost being yanked round by it. On instinct she grabbed Estella's elbow and heaved.
"Are you OK?" she shouted above the noise of the thundering rock.
"Been better," Estella winced as she tried to hobble and skip to get her speed back up, crying out as a lump of rock hit her in the small of her back. She twisted beside Kaelin, Valodrael bubbling to the surface.
Ahead of them Ulrich and the living Ash Elves ran, lurched, jumped and staggered their way to being just ahead of the tumbling rocks, arms held over their heads as fist sized clods of stone rained down on them. Marmaduke lurched and wobbled along, his iron shell clanging and banging as rock bounced off him. Behind them, ever roaring and snarling, the rock fall rampaged after them, solid limestone that had existed since time so deep it made the brain shudder pulverized into fragments by the concussive force of the collapse of Nanny Tatters' spells and wards. If anyone had time to watch it would have been awesome, unfortunately it was catching up with them. The collapse of the lair had become a monster that was biting down at their heels, its teeth made up of chunks of stone, some only the size of fists, others the size of wagons, some even the size of wagons and teams put together.
Jeremiah screamed an order and his blue eyed Ash Eyes seized his arms in vice like grips, hoisted him up off the floor and ran with him, they untiring, unweakening muscles managing to just out pace the ravenous rock fall.
Ahead of everyone else, Thorian and Jeremiah the second continued their pounding pace.
"I like crushing things," Thorian shouted in the dark, "I don't like being crushed!"
"I... totally... agree," Kaelin panted as she pushed her legs to run faster, dragging Estella along with her, staining might and main to not only pass Ulrich, Marmaduke and the Ash Elves but to catch up with Thorian and the better copy of Jeremiah.
Behind her a falling rock smashed down on some of Peter's legs, crushing the chitin formed limbs under its weight. Even as Peter the centipede vented a whistling scream, Ulrich pulled one of his swords from its scabbard and in a single smooth motion severed most of the trapped limbs. With a mighty yank Peter ripped the last one in two at the knee joint and plunged after Kaelin and Estella, trailing yellowish, blood like fluid.
With a grizzly crack one of Jeremiah the first's puppets stumbled and dropped him, a chunk of stone jutting out of its skull. Screaming a pray to his god, Jeremiah landed rolling and somehow scrambled to his feet, yanking his robes free of the rock fall. He grabbed the strap of the pack the Vigor was laboring under and jerked it alone, bellowing for Nanny Tatters' to follow him. The swaying beast lumbered as it kept opening its wings to fly and knocking them against the tunnel sides, falling rocks bouncing off the membrane with bruising force. Jeremiah barked an order and the undead dragon thing held its wings at half spread, keeping the smaller stones off his head as he struggled to keep up with the others. As he caught up with them, he could hear Kaelin panting like a dog, Estella struggling to draw breath, Valodrael writhing under the skin round her ears, unable to split from her as that would force her to stumble and with the rock fall at their heels it would be fatal.
Even Thorian, his chest working like a set of blacksmith bellows, was struggling to keep up his pace, the others catching up with him and Jeremiah the second, Ulrich now trailing at the back of the group, the Ash Elves torn between their desire to survive the immediate moment and the fear of what would happen if Lady Zilvra's favorite died and they out lived him. Marmaduke tottered and flailed his arms about, a sight that would have been funny if it wasn't so damn serious. With a yell Ulrich slapped Peter's back behind him with the flat of his sword. With a shrill screech the centipede shoot forward, scrambling up the wall to scrabble sideways along it, Ulrich whooping as he hung on, locking his knees in Peter's carapace. On the floor of the tunnel the living Ash Elves took off as if there were wings on their feet, Marmaduke thumping along behind.
Seeing Ulrich go passed her at shoulder height Kaelin managed to find a new burst of speed, pulling out in front of Thorian, dragging Estella with her. Thorian yelled suddenly, one foot twisting and locking rigid as if he was suddenly clubfooted.
"What's the matter man?" Jeremiah the second caught Thorian as he began to topple, bracing the orc crossbreed up.
"Cramp!" Thorian gasped, trying not to fall, his calf muscle bulging like fist sized balls in a sock.
"Cack!" Jeremiah the second exclaimed, glancing back at the rock fall that hadn't slowed down any, "Together, right foot first!" Lurching from side to side, they stumped down the tunnel like the most serious three legged race in the history of the world.
"Out of my way!" Jeremiah the first roared and then nearly fell flat on his face, shin cracking against a rock he hadn't bothered to look to see. Snarling an order even as he fell, Jeremiah the first managed to keep his pace together as his servants caught his arms and pulled him upright. Of course, he didn't thank them for it, tugging himself free of their grips and bolting off down the tunnel, shouldering aside Thorian and his own doppelganger to get ahead of them, letting his servants trail behind him. Ahead of them all Ulrich and the Ash Elves belted along, one of the Ash Elves smacking the butt end of a light stick against the wall as they ran to light it as the first one sputtered and went out, its now useless tube being dropped amount the stones of the floor to be swallowed by the mountain, after Marmaduke had cracked in half by standing on it.
Panting, sweating and straining, Jeremiah the first managed to reach Kaelin and Estella but the pair of women managed to outpace him, pulling ahead in the desperate race for their lives.
Thorian whimpered and groaned, hobbling, only just keeping out from under the rock fall, crying out as he nearly fell twice. Jeremiah the second gabbled the words of a pray and Jeremiah the first turned back, incensed as two of his minions turned back to help hold Thorian above the water, or rather in front of the rock fall.
Almost in synchronization Peter's many legs hit a loose patch of stones and fell off the wall in a small shower of stones and grit, crashing to the tunnel floor and rolling clean over Ulrich.
"Ee-ow!" Ulrich cried out, grimly hanging on as Peter the centipede rippled himself over, "Now that's why I like these exotic mounts, he doesn't weigh half as much as a horse."
Pounding along, Kaelin and Estella vaulted Peter's trailing body almost as one.
"Oh that's nice," Ulrich muttered as he came close to the upright, then he grunted as Jeremiah the first and his servants barged passed. Thankful Marmaduke came to a stop at his shoulder, metal body clanging like a distressed frying pan as rocks bounced off of him.
Hobbling along at the back, Thorian and Jeremiah the second just managed to keep up with and then pass Ulrich as Peter realized that the rock fall still hadn't stopped and he needed to get going.
Thorian grunted as his leg finally decided that it could worry about the cramp later, right now it needed to work and work fast. He lifted his arm from over the shoulders of Jeremiah the second.
"Thanks," he grunted as he gritted his teeth and kept trying to outpace the rock fall.
"No need to wait for us old boy," Ulrich called as Peter bunched himself, then the bug surged forward as if shot from a bow and when it found its way blocked by the running forms of Thorian and Jeremiah the second Peter the centipede solved the problem in the simplest way possible - he ran up the wall and this time, all the way one to the ceiling, his hind most legs gradually pulling away from the cracking stone. Marmaduke tried his best to keep pace.
"Tally ho!" Ulrich yelled, grinning like a mad thing. Sprinting forward on still more legs than could be counted, Peter the centipede bounded over, what was to him a wooden step and what was to everyone else a lintel, and into the tunnel beyond. Kaelin and Estella threw themselves after the Ash Elves of the Snake clan, landing in an untidy heap on top of something most uncomfortable in the tunnel beyond.
Jeremiah the first gritted his teeth as he saw the unworthy making it to safety ahead of himself. With a snarl he threw himself on to Nanny Tatters' back, catching at exposed tendons to hold himself on and kicking her mercilessly in the ribs as he called her every foul name under the sun, or indeed under the earth. With the flap and billow of membraned wings, Nanny Tatters' careered out into the large tunnel, stumbling and tripping over the floor, Kaelin and Estella rolling in opposite directions to avoid being trampled, Jeremiah the first draped over her back like a sack of potatoes, or maybe rutabagas.
With a final gasp, Thorian and Jeremiah the second collapsed into the tunnel, the last of the rock fall clipping their heels. Dust billowed up, the noise crashed down on them, the rattling of falling rock still shaking through them. Coughing, eyes streaming they waited for the world to end. It was a pleasant surprise when it didn't.
"Alright, who's not dead?" Ulrich asked as he light another standard light stick, striking it on Marmaduke's hull, "Sound off."
"You what?" Kaelin groaned.
"Well that's one," Ulrich observed as he guided Peter down the wall to the tunnel floor, "Anyone else?"
"Ow!" Thorian let loose a long, drawn out groan as he seized the toes of his malfunctioning leg and pulled until the muscle gave up cramping and pulled straight, "Think I've torn something."
"Being that brutal was probably not the best way to do that," Jeremiah the second observed, shifting through Thorian's pack to see if he could find something that was useful for cramp.
"So two," Ulrich muttered, then the clearing dust revealed Lady Zilvra's brothers making their way over to him. "Right. Wait a minute, have we lost...?" He turned on Peter's back and saw the glowing eyes of Jeremiah the first's puppets, "Apparently not."
Jeremiah the first slid down off of Nanny Tatters' much abused shoulder, turned and stumbled as something caught at his ankle.
"For pity's sake, have we not had..." he stopped, frowning.
"Something the matter old boy?" Ulrich asked. Jeremiah the first ignored him, crouching down to peer at something on the ground.
"Found something interesting?" Ulrich called again.
"If it's then same thing that I have here then it is," Kaelin said, hands running over something on the floor.
"What have you there?" Ulrich asked and lowered the light stick towards it.
"Light boy," Jeremiah the first snapped. Kaelin looked round as if she was going to say something very unpleasant but Jeremiah the second was already standing up with a light stick he'd found in Thorian's pack in his hands. He light it after a couple of tries and stepped carefully over to stand by his creator's side. Jeremiah the first did not look round or say thank you.
Ulrich sighed and rolled his eyes at the display. As much as he didn't expect Jeremiah to care about his own creations it would have been nice to be proved wrong. He turned back to trying to help Kaelin see what she had found and frowned himself.
Large chunks of wood had been placed on the floor of the tunnel, except that they weren't chunks. They were like planks but something like six times thicker and laid so that they were absolutely level, gravel made of the same stone as the tunnel packed in around them. Ulrich looked at the walls of the tunnel.
"Hey up," he observed, "This tunnel has been dug out, it's not natural."
"What do you mean?" Thorian asked as he sat up and then grunted, "Oy, who left these poles on the floor?" He tried to pick one up and found that he couldn't. "Ok this is weird."
"What I meant old boy is that this tunnel has been cut out by picks and chisels, it isn't naturally worn stone," Ulrich explained peering at the walls and ceiling. It wasn't difficult to look at the ceiling it seemed closer to the top of his head than he expected.
"And these are poles," Kaelin said from where she was still crouched on the packed down gravel, "Their square."
"No they aren't," Thorian replied, "They're long and thin, they're poles."
"No," Ulrich shook his head as his slid off of Peter's back, "I know what Kaelin means. With a pole when you grab it, it is smooth in your hand. These aren't, if you grabbed one of these all the corners would dig into your hand."
"Ah," Thorian tried it, "You're right, they wouldn't be great for bashing someone with; make a nice enough mess of them but you'd have bruises as well by the end of it." He tried lifting the metal thing again. "They don't seem to move either."
"That is usually the result when someone has nailed a thing down with six inch nails," Jeremiah the first muttered from where he was examining the strange construction.
Ulrich also knelt down to peer at it closer.
"Excuse us old chaps," he called to the Ash Elves, "But have any of you ever heard of those dwerg people you were talking about earlier making mechanical thoroughfares?"
"Can't say I have," Thorian stood up, "I just like playing football with them."
"Thoroughfares?" one of the Ash Elves asked after a moments frowning, "I do not believe that I am familiar with the word you use."
"Roads," Ulrich expanded, "Path, highway, lane, walkway or avenue. A linear area of space set aside for traveling through to get from one place to another. It is just that the top of this metal thing, I suppose you could call it a rail, is worn as if either something very heavy has been run over it a few times or something very light has run over it many times."
"I am not familiar with the idea that the dwergs would use something mechanical to get from one place to another," the Ash Elf admitted, "But I have had very little opportunity to visit their caverns and they are always busy with the creation of some device or another so it is not... Is something amiss?"
Ulrich's hand had brushed the rail as he went to stand and he crouched again, hand pressed to the rail. After a moment he laid down and rested his ear on the rail, hands spread out to either side of him so that the palms rested on the rail as well. After a moment he jumped up and looked down the tunnel to his left.
"Chaps I suggest we pin ourselves to the wall," he called, eyes straining to pierce the darkness.
"Why? What's up?" Thorian asked, even while he stepped back into the small gap that was left in the doorway that the rock fall had nearly filled up.
"There's something coming," Ulrich whistled Peter the centipede to heel and turned to copy Thorian... only to find that Jeremiah the first and all his little pets had crammed their way into the gap first.
"Oh dear, my dear Ulrich," Jeremiah the first smiled, "There doesn't seem to be any space left. Do you suppose what is coming will listen if you ask it to stop really nicely?"
Away down the tunnel something howled, a long shrieking note that pierced through the blackness. Ulrich turned with the light stick held as high as he could, realizing again that the tunnel was a long shorter from floor to ceiling than he wished it could be.
"There!" Kaelin barked, pointing away to the right of the tunnel they had come from, away from the shrieking thing in the dark. Ulrich turned and looked and saw the gleam of white in the dark. An indentation in the rock wall on the other side of the track that had been deliberately painted to make it stand out in the dark.
"Stay there," Ulrich snapped at Thorian and swung across on to Peter's back. Kaelin and Estella were already bolting up the tunnel towards the promised sanctuary. Ulrich set his heels to Peter's flanks as the rails below them started to hum, yelling at Marmaduke to follow him.
Scrabbling through the darkness, listening to the humming of the rails growing louder and louder, it seemed that they were trapped in one of those nightmares were some formless but ever present thing chases you through dark and unfamiliar places and no matter how fast you go you can never run fast enough to get away from it. Ahead Kaelin and Estella streaked along as if their feet had wings but it seemed they came no nearer to the safety of that dug out space in the rock than if they had crawled. Ulrich, the Ash Elves and Jeremiah the second seemed to fair no better, legs pounding, gravel crunching under their feet but safety always just out of their reach.
In the ink blackness behind them a puffing, huffing noise started to sound and a light pierced through the gloom, back lighting them as the thing came closer and closer.
Then they burst into the safe space, falling over one another as something went screaming passed in the dark. Something so unbelievably loud that it seemed that the world must end under the assault of that noise. Something that smelt of hot metal and steam and fire and the black stone fuel that the Ash Elves had used to power their shove with the night before. Something that huffed and puffed and clanked and thundered and whirled and creaked and clanged and bellowed in the dark. Something that shook and rattled and clattered. Something that went on and on and on through the endless night. Something that battered and jolted and stunned them with its passage.
Then, a suddenly as it had come, sucking the air from them with the speed of its passage, it was gone, a single red eye glaring at them as it disappeared down the tunnel.
The silence that followed was almost as shocking as the noise that had gone before. Kaelin sat gazing at the dumbfounded faces of her companions, slowly realizing that she was shaking slightly and trying to hide the fact that she was from her companions. Estella sat, curled up a little, blinking one eye as Valodrael swirled in it but the Void dragon seemed to be as stunned as everyone else in the group. Nobody moved to break the silence and it seemed after the violence that had gone before that breaking the silence would be a form of sacrilege and would confirm that what had just happened had in fact just happened. If they didn't admit it then maybe they could pretend that the terror of that roaring, clanging, smelling not-dragon hadn't happened. There were somethings that just couldn't be put into words.
After a while and Kaelin was never sure how long a while it was, Ulrich slid off of Peter the centipede's back and stepped carefully between the shake crowd of them to the back of the alcove, revealing that it was a lot deeper than Kaelin had first thought.
Ulrich put out his hand and ran his fingers down the outline of something in the rock... only it wasn't rock it was white painted wood. After a moment Kaelin picked herself up off the floor and stepped up beside Ulrich, putting her ears to the planks. Closing her eyes she tried to concentrate on making her hearing directional but her ears were still ringing from the passage of what ever it was that had thundered by them in the dark, all she could hear was the slow drip of water somewhere in the distance.
She stepped back from the door, wiping perspiration off of her face. The air had become close and muggy, the heat from that roaring thing lingering long after it was gone.
Ulrich stayed, ear pressed to the door. He was sure he could hear voices in the distance beyond the planking as well as a clacking noise like wood being bashed together. Slowly drawing his sword, he lay his hand on the latch and slowly pressed down with his thumb. The latch lifted smoothly with barely a sound and he swung the door slowly open, wincing as it creaked a little but all in all it opened with barely a sound. Lifting the light stick a little he looked at the walls. Not only had this tunnel also been worked by living hands, it had been smoothed off, not very thoroughly, it had to be said but some effort had been made to make sure that people wouldn't cut themselves open if they brushed the walls. The only thing was that the ceiling was very low, as if it hadn't been built with tall people in mind.
"Peter," Ulrich instructed, "On the ceiling behind me. Marmaduke, follow me." Ulrich started up the tunnel, going slowly. Marmaduke tried to step into the tunnel and bashed its 'head' several time. It paused then knelt down and crawled into the tunnel behind Ulrich. Its shoulders just fit. After a moment the Ash Elves followed.
Back down in the tunnel that contained the rails that the shrieking monster had run on Jeremiah the first turned to where he'd last seen Thorian as they were now standing light only by the blue glow from his puppets' eyes.
"My dear Thorian would you like a ride on my new pet?"
"Yah new...?" Thorian scratched his head a moment and then fell in, "Oh you mean the dragon. But wait don't you want to ride it first?"
"I already did," Jeremiah admitted, "And I'm not totally convinced that she will be a comfortable ride for one such as I so I was wondering if you'd like a go."
"I love to," Thorian started forward and then stopped, "Here, what's the catch?"
"Why there's no catch at all my dear Thorian," Jeremiah the first smiled, "Just a favor between two old friends." However, if he'd been expecting Thorian to jump eagerly at the chance then he was very much mistaken.
"Oh no," Thorian folded his arms, "I'm not falling for that again. There's always a catch with you. You are always trying something to make me look like an absolute fool and I ain't doing that no more. Just cause I'm big and green and thick doesn't mean I don't have feelings and it don't mean I don't know when mah feelings get hurt."
"My dear Thorian," Jeremiah spread his arms wide, "Since when have I ever called you thick?"
"You don't have to call me thick, you treat me like I'm thick," Thorian jutted his jaw forward, "And I know I'm thick compared to you and other fancy pants. Aye know mah people are thick compared to you's, you don't have to beat me over the head with that. All my life I've been called human boy cause I think too much like you and then I came to see you lot and I'm still too thick to fit in. So don't make out that you don't think I'm thick 'cause I know you do."
He turned on his heel and stomped away down the tunnel, limping slightly on the leg that had cramped up. Kaelin stuck her head out and looked down the tunnel, trying to see where they were. She could hear Thorian clumping closer to her and she remembered Jeremiah saying that the orc crossbreeds had once lived in the Underworld and could therefore probably see better than most in the low light conditions. She could also see where Jeremiah the first's puppets were gathered by the glowing blue eyes. That really was uncanny. Unseen she grinned in the dark as a sudden thought struck her.
"I see another light!" she yelled down the tunnel.
"My dear Kaelin what are you talking about?" Jeremiah frowned. The mutt sounded as if she was genuinely concerned for them. He supposed that she might have been concerned about Thorian. Seeing as they were both not people there could be a certain attraction there.
"A light!" Kaelin yelled, "Are you blind? Or didn't you see that thing lighting its own way?"
That was very true and Jeremiah suddenly clicked what she was talking about. He grabbed the trailing edge of Nanny Tatters' wing and swung himself on to her back.
In the tunnel ahead, Kaelin stuck two fingers in her mouth and let loose a shrill whistle, trying to imitate the shriek of the creature of the tunnel. Only she wasn't able to hit quiet the right note and...
"Kaelin! You mangy cur of a gutter dog!" Jeremiah the first bellowed, "You blithering dunderhead! You... you... you such as one who, whilst wearing a copper helmet and standing on a bronze pyramid in the middle of a thunderstorm, screams that Fulgora, God of Lightning, has the face of a diseased dandelion root! You..."
Thorian lifted his foot and put it down again. He lifted it and put it down. A stripe of the ground, a raised strip of the ground, was beginning to tingle under his foot. Thorian was not the smartest person on the planet, he regularly admitted that as it was regularly mashed in his face but he was able to, slowly, put two and two together and he usually came up with the right answer.
"Let's get out of here," he shouted and turned towards where he could hear Kaelin's voice coming from. He tripped and stumbled in the dark. "I can't see!" he complained.
"Hold on a moment!" Estella's voice echoed and then a light stick flared into existence. Thorian started running towards her as the humming began to sound from the rails.
As he was still roundly cursing out Kaelin's existence, her ancestors, her attitude, any love interest that she had ever had and all her descendants down to the tenth generation, Jeremiah didn't hear it for several more minutes and then he clapped his heels to Nanny Tatters' sides, still cursing like a wizard. He was not running away, oh no, he was running to, most definitely running to, he would never run away.
Kaelin sat playing the bagpipes as Thorian came lumbering up, fighting not to have another bout of cramp.
"You took your time," she greeted with a smile, dropping the blow stick from her mouth.
"Blasted bum leg," Thorian grumbled as he stepped passed her into the alcove.
In the dark beyond him, a cluster of glowing lights came bouncing towards her, led by one rather big one. Too late Kaelin realized that Jeremiah the first wasn't just running towards safety, he was also charging her. At the last second, Nanny Tatters' slammed on the breaks, skidding to a halt that sent a bow wave of gravel chips flying before her, peppering Kaelin with shards of rock. Nanny Tatters came to a final stop with the end of her nose, now reduced to cartilage, on the end of Kaelin's nose. Kaelin flinched from the cold touch. Jeremiah the first glared down at her from where he sat on the back of his dragon as the Vigor puppet and the three puppetted Ash Elves trooped into the alcove, ducking under the stump of Nanny Tatters' tail to do so
"It seems I have two vicious hags in my life," Jeremiah observed, "And at the moment it seems that I can only control one of them. Perhaps I should find a way to bring the other one to heel."
Kaelin stood slowly up, brushing herself down, not dropping her flat, unfriendly stare from Jeremiah's, then she turned to follow Ulrich through the door in the back of the alcove. Estella went with her.
A shrill shriek echoed down the tunnel and Jeremiah dragged Nanny Tatters head around so that she stepped into the alcove. He glared down at Thorian.
"And so kind of you sir to warn me that we might have a second visitation on the unnamed thing," he nearly snarled it. Thorian however, refused to be cowed.
"See, this is why Aye I knew that there would be a catch," he actually sneered back, "You don't care to remember that Aye did yell for us to get out of there but you were too busy cussing out Kaelin to..."
The thing rocketed passed in the dark. The shrieking, rattling, clanking, puffing rush of smoke and steam, hot iron and rocking mass that barrelled passed, shrieking as if it was in mortal agony, drowning out the end of Thorian's reply.
Silence returned as it clacked off into the distance, Thorian having already turned away and squeezed his way through the doorway in the back of the alcove. Jeremiah very nearly spat nails when he realized that his summoned servant, his bat winged double had already nipped through the door while he wasn't looking, thus avoiding his ire. Muttering and snarling to himself, Jeremiah the first swung down off of Nanny Tatters' back and stumped across the floor to the doorway himself, barking at his puppets to fall in line and follow him.
After a moment he turned back and snapped at the puppets to help pull Nanny Tatters through the doorway as she struggled and thrashed and wriggled in the most undignified manner ever. Someone was going to pay for today's indignities, someone was going to pay, one way or another.
Padding forward at the front of the group Ulrich frowned, turning the light stick from side to side, trying to decided whether he could see a light up ahead. He frowned some more, stepping cautiously forward. Pulsing his mouth, he took the gamble and ground the light stick's head against the floor. With a hissing cough the light stick smoked and went out.
Blinking in the darkness, he waited and as his eyes adjusted he nodded to himself. There was definitely a light ahead. Behind him Marmaduke creaked and groaned.
"Quiet now old boy," Ulrich murmured, "We need to go softly, softly."
"Nice going," Kaelin's voice drawled from the darkness, "Not we can't see a darn thing."
"Quiet!" one of Zilvra's brother's hissed, "Use your ears."
Barely seen in the dark, Kaelin scowled but then cocked her head sideways.
"I hear it too," Thorian muttered behind her. Kaelin nodded and then realized how futile that gesture was in the gloom but the others were already moving on and as the tunnel was too narrow for Thorian and Estella to get passed her she joined in the shift forward. There was no point after all, in going back, who knew where the next safe space was beside those tracks and Kaelin didn't fancy her chances against that steaming, shrieking thing in the tight confines of that tunnel.
They crept forward, Marmaduke's metal limbs creaking and groaning with the effort of moving quietly, which was more than a little counter productive. Still there appeared to be a fair amount of noise going on in the dark ahead any way, or was it the light ahead? The gloom certainly seemed to be less intense.
From ahead Kaelin was fairly sure she could here the clack of wooden weapons and the grunts of wrestling matches. She bit her lip. It sounded as if they were creeping their way towards a guards room or maybe even a barracks and if Kaelin knew anything about guards it was that they were not impressed by people sneaking about in the dark near the place they were supposed to be guarding. Just how were they supposed to blag their way through this one...?
"Afternoon chaps," Ulrich called as he stepped out of the tunnel into the well light room, "I don't suppose any of you would be willing to tell us where we are, we seem to have become more than a little lost."
More than a dozen faces swung round to stare at him, all noise ceasing in the room for a moment. With a groan Kaelin sank to her knees in the tunnel. This just could not end well. Seemingly as a single entity, more than a dozen short but barrel heavy dwarfs grabbed the nearest weapon and closed in on Ulrich, who lifted his hands, palms face out, hoping that it was a universally recognized gesture of non-violence. To be fair, the dwarfs did slow down a little and then Marmaduke clumped out of the tunnel and straightened with a hiss. The dwarfs slowed even more and came to a complete stop when Peter the centipede rippled his way out of the tunnel to wander up the wall and coil back on himself to wave his antennae at them. Peter seemed to lose interest in them after a moment and started examining the stumps of his severed and torn off legs. The dwarfs hesitated, looking from Ulrich to Marmaduke to Peter, hands twisting on the hafts of their weapons. Ulrich looked back with interest.
These dwarfs seemed to be slightly shorter than even normal dwarfs and their skin was a curious purplish hue. Their hair and beards were universally white and their eyes were shockingly pale, almost white in their faces. Right now they were all glaring at the centipede from under their bushy eyebrows.
Thorian stepped over Kaelin's form and walked into the light, holding up his hands as well.
"It's alright, good sirs," he grinned, "He's harmless. Come on, Peter. Come here, boy." Peter waved his antennae for a moment longer and then rippled down the wall to Thorian's side. The dwarfs took a step back, though one of them managed to hold his ground, glaring at Thorian, who didn't pay any attention to that and sat down on Peter's back but not astride the centipede but instead as if the centipede was a very long, mobile bench. Peter whistled in distress but let it happen.
"You see," Thorian grinned, patting Peter's carapace, "As meek as mother's milk."
The dwarfs did not seem totally convinced but they were slightly less ready for immediate violence.
"That maybe," the one standing at the front sniffed, "But who are you? Where did you come from? And how many of you are there?"
"I am Ulrich Brekka," Ulrich inclined his head respectfully, "The bug is my mount Peter. My green friend is Thorian Vandervast and the robot is a new acquirement named Marmaduke. Wave Marmaduke."
Marmaduke creaked and hesitantly lifted a hand and slowly waved it back and forth as if washing an unseen window.
"These esteemed gentlemen are members of the Snake Clan and brothers to Lady Zilvra of said clan," Ulrich waved the three living Ash Elves forwards. They appearance seemed to reassure the dwarfs a fair measure, many of them lowering their picks and war hammers so that their heads rested on the floor.
"Any more of you?" the guard chief narrowed his eyes at the tunnel mouth.
"Best get this over with," Kaelin muttered and stood up, stepping into the light, Estella stepping at her side.
"These are the fearsome warriors Kaelin and Estella Blackwood," Ulrich introduced them.
"Don't look much like sisters," someone muttered at the back.
"We are not, good sir," Estella inclined her head, "I was unfortunately lost in the process of pursuing my own quest and Kaelin and her companions have been good enough to take me under their protection. I hope that I have not been a burden on the team. Kaelin here does not seem to have a family name, having left the cult her grandfather was controlling..."
"Never heard it called that before," Kaelin interrupted in a mutter.
"Wasn't it though?" Estella asked, "I don't know the full story but from the bits and pieces I've picked up listening to you and what Lady Zilvra's brothers have muttered to themselves then cult is the best description I've heard of your grandfather's pack. Especially with the forced recruitment drive he's on at the moment."
Kaelin thought about it for a moment.
"Fair dues," she admitted.
"As I was going to say, good sir," Estella turned back to Ulrich, "It would be best in future to state Kaelin's name after my own if we are to be introduced together to avoid such confusion."
"I shall be guided by your greater knowledge of etiquette ," Ulrich bowed flamboyantly back and then turned to his robot, "Marmaduke stop waving now." The robot stopped mid-wave but did not lower its hand. Ulrich sighed and turned back to the dwarfs just as Jeremiah the second emerged from the tunnel, one hand balancing his miter and version of Hat.
"This is Jeremiah the second," Ulrich introduced him, "A copy of our last companion who has not reached us yet, created by magic and of a pleasant disposition. I must warn you that is creator is a student of obscure and interesting lore, with a habit of collecting relics from each of our battles. We do not like his habit any more than you will probably but we have no choice but to put up with it and I will admit that it has saved our skins a couple of times on this journey. Please don't try and kill us the moment you see his... well I hesitate to call them pets, they are more..."
Jeremiah the first shuffled out from under the lintel and straightened. He was not holding his miter on, instead Hat was buzzing his wings desperately to hold it in place for him. As moths are not built to hover he was struggling mightily with the task and was more than a little relieved when he could let his wings droop and still.
The dwarfs collectively narrowed their eyes at him.
"I don't see any..." the guard chief began.
The Vigor shuffled into the room, bent under the weight of the pack, followed by the three puppetted Ash Elves. Far from being agitated by the appreciate of the puppets, who where by now more than a little worse for wear, particularly the one with the chunk of rock sticking out of his head, the dwerg seemed more intrigued. The Chief stepped forward, shouldering his battle axe as he did so. Jeremiah went to speak but a held up hand had him silent, fuming but silent. The dwerg walked round the glowing eyed Ash Elves, noting every detail about them.
"What power source are you using for them?" he asked.
"The will of my god," Jeremiah bowed, spreading a smile over his face.
"How are you keeping the kervead's off them?" was the next question.
"I have to admit that I had not considered the fact that the kervead's would be interested in them," Jeremiah admitted, "As the insects have not coming sniffing near them it never crossed my mind that they could act as bait. I believe that the purity of my god's blessing has kept them safe and us as well."
"Purity, suppose you could call it that," the dwarf muttered, wrinkling his nose, "Just why haven't you stripped them back? Having them fleshy like this is unhygienic."
"Unhygienic?" Jeremiah asked, insulted.
"Yes unhygienic," the Chief nodded, "Like they are now they are nothing but disease vectors. I'm surprised that none of you haven't dropped down with some nasty disease."
"Oh some of our group are already carrying nasty diseases," Jeremiah glared at Kaelin, pointedly scratching at his bandaged arm. She rolled her eyes at him.
"Personally I just keep as far away from them as possible," Ulrich admitted.
"Yeah, we all do," Thorian nodded.
"Probably the only thing keeping you healthy," the Chief grunted, "They need to be stripped back at the earliest opportunity, you should have thought about it. Park them up in that corner over there." He waved a hand at the corner of the room behind the railings that marked out the squares for training bouts.
"You heard the... good sir," Jeremiah corrected himself before he said something that could have resulted in him being hacked off at the knees, "Over there and stay there until I call." He waved a hand with a grand gesture. With blank expressions, his Ash Elves and the Vigor turned and marched over to the indicated corner and stood there, blankly staring at the room.
"And that is all of us," Ulrich concluded, "As I said, we've become some what lost and we really do need to parley with your good sirs."
The chief grunted again, apparently not completely satisfied.
"That might be what you want," he admitted, "But where did you come from?"
"We tracked the... troubles that the Snake Clan were having..." Ulrich began.
"Trouble?" The chief glared at the living brothers of Lady Zilvra, "Well it isn't from us. The last shipment of metal made it through just fine, I heard the Artisans say so myself."
The eldest of the brothers inclined his head to him.
"As to that I would be unaware," he admitted, "The Lady Zilvra was observing the obligations at the temple of Nephthys at the time such a delivery was delivered. Our troubles began after we had left to travel to the..." He trailed off, gazing turning to Kaelin, "How did they know that the Feast of the Blooding was taking place?"
Kaelin closed her eyes a moment but opened them again when she heard him shift his weight.
"They must have infected someone inside the clan," she admitted, "Someone strong enough to resist showing the early signs of infection but weak willed enough that they could be... controlled." She picked her words carefully, suddenly mindful that she wasn't aware of the power balance between the Ash Elves and the dwerg. The only thing that might be keeping the dwerg from imprisoning them on the spot could be the dwerg's belief that they came from a powerful clan.
After a moment the Ash Elf drew a deep breath and nodded once to her.
"As I was saying," Ulrich picked up the tail again, "We tracked the troubles the Snake Clan was having to the lair of a dragon witch and..."
"Dragon Witch?" the dwerg chief snapped, "What's a Dragon Witch when its at home?"
"One of these my good sir," Jeremiah the first smiled and gestured as, with a wriggle and a writhe, Nanny Tatters' flayed form squeezed itself into the room. The dwerg took a step back, raising their weapons.
"Sit!" Jeremiah the first snapped and Nanny Tatters plonked her skinless haunches on the floor.
"Down," Jeremiah the first commanded and she lay dog like a dog.
"Now roll over," Jeremiah the first was smiling as he gave that command and she did, wings flapping painfully against the floor.
"You see good sirs," Jeremiah the first bowed to the crowd, "What things are possible with the proper application of power?"
The dwerg chief grumped wordlessly as he eyed up Nanny Tatters single, blue rimmed eye.
"It's not like any dragon I've ever see," he admitted, "Why's it skinless?"
"Oh I've got that here," Thorian stood up with a grin and tipped the bag upside down. Nanny Tatters' skin fell out with a soft whump, to cover what appeared to be a whole acre of the room, "Oh, whoops." Thorian grimaced sheepishly and started stuffing it back into the bag.
"Oh give me strength to deal with idiots and morons!" the bag snapped.
"Yah might want to be more polite right about now," Thorian glanced at the dwerg and redoubled his efforts to stuff the bag, "These people might not be so understanding of your moodiness."
"Ha," the bag barked, "I've seen more formidable foes in a toddler's tantrum!"
Kaelin groaned and dropped her face into her hands.
"I do apologize for our baggage's bad attitude," Ulrich gulped, "I can reassure you that we do not doubt your fighting prowess and bravery..."
"Ha!" the bag yelled, "Your wit is as sharp as a butter knife!"
After from being insulted the dwerg chief stepped forward, eyeing the bag with interest and Thorian continued to stuff the dragon skin back inside it.
"That is a Bag of Scolding," he noted, "They are not common. Where did you get it from?"
"From her hoard," Thorian jabbed a thumb at Nanny Tatters' pink and white form.
"And where is this hoard?" the Chief rubbed his beard.
"Back that way," Thorian jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, "But you don't want to go down there. There's something down there that ain't friendly."
"Oh, and what would that thing be like?" the Chief' expression was something akin to the strained expression that people wear when they are trying to not grin.
"Big, loud, fast and smelly," Kaelin folded her arms, "Not something that I'd like to take on in a fight."
A chorus of sniggers echoed round the room.
"Oh so you've meet the Forge Lord's project," the chief did grin at that point, "I'm impressed, none of you turned into a hot pink mist but if this hoard is do there, then how come none of the crews have reported running into it?"
"It wasn't in the tunnel of the project," Ulrich explained, "If you go down that tunnel there and then turn right, about a hundred and fifty paces up the tunnel with the pieces of metal laid in it you should find the tunnel entrance that has a rock fall spilling out of it. Unfortunately it appears Nanny Tatters made her lair out of magic so when she died it collapsed in on itself. We only just made it out alive."
Behind him, Estella sat down and started dabbing at her grazed knee. Besides where the skin had been scoured off, it was turning a lovely shade of bruise purple. After a moment Kaelin crouched down and dug through her pack to find the stuff to help her. Estella's injury seemed to make the Chief look again at how dusty and dirty they all were.
"Nobbs, Coben," he ordered, "Go check their story out." The two named dwergs shipped their weapons and set off at a dog trot down the tunnel, its low ceiling no hindrance to them.
"I still don't see why Ash Elves are traveling with a bunch of people from the world without a ceiling," the Chief observed, turning to Lady Zilvra's brother's again.
"As I said, we came here on our own quest and in the course of that quest we have been commissioned to hunt down the enemies of the Snake Clan," Ulrich explained, "These noble gentlemen are our guides so we do not waste valuable time getting lost in the dark."
"I've never heard of that before," the Chief tugged his beard again, "But these are unsettled times." He turned back to the rest of his unit. "Alright lads, let's get back to work. The Forge Lord's don't pain us for standing around gassing. Get to it."
With some uneasy shuffling the other dwergs turned back to what they had been doing, most peeling off to go back to the training bout pens though a few drifted back to the line of tables that stretched down from the wall to the groups left, as well as a couple that headed back to the pile load of boxes and barrels nearest them on the left. That seemed to constitute a store and kitchen area, judging by the work going on there.
In the far left hand corner and group of eight stood lined up, four either side of a cavernous fire place that was making the room almost uncomfortably warm.
"You say that these are unsettled times," Ulrich noted as most of the dwergs drifted away, "May haps our quest might also be able to help you out."
"Oh yeah, how'd you figure that one out?" the Chief raised an eyebrow. Thorian, having finally finished stuffing Nanny Tatters' skin back into the bag of scolding, despite its continued grumblings, stared in fascination as it looked like a very hairy caterpillar crawled up and down the Chief's face.
"Something is scaring some of the more aggressive creatures of this amazing land up towards the world without a roof," Ulrich explained, "Now of course, you are more than capable of dealing with such little annoyances but the creatures are being very disruptive to the surface world, they are pulling all the networks of food and resources out of alignment. That is our quest - find what is causing the creatures to migrate and try to eliminate it."
"And do you have any idea what you are looking for?" the Chief narrowed his eyes.
"Well, if it is the same as what was bothering the Snake Clan," Ulrich inclined his head to Zilvra's brothers, "Then it is a pack of werewolves, who don't take the hint that they are unwelcome."
"And what's a werewolf when its at home?" the Chief asked.
"Well, they are as tall if not taller than we people from the world without a roof," Ulrich explained, "And they are as broad across the shoulders as Thorian there but instead of being green they are very, very hairy and well, how to explain it to someone who hasn't ever seen a wolf?" Ulrich asked himself.
"They have big teeth, big claws and an attitude that totally sucks," Kaelin stood up from binding up Estella's knee.
The Chief nodded and tugged at his beard again.
"We might be on the same page," he admitted, "We've had a few things try to attack the locomotives recently. Granted they had no idea what they were dealing with so the only thing they got was a hot pink mist." His grin wasn't exactly pleasant at the thought.
"Well in that case then perhaps we can help out," Ulrich suggested, "We need to track down exactly what the werewolves are up to and if we could hel... I mean, if you would allow us to fight along side you in return for telling us were we are in your kingdom then we would owe you a debt."
It had taken him a second to remember that dwarfs of any stripe were incredibly proud and any suggestion that they needed help would be met with rejection at best and hostility at worse.
"Not my place to say," the Chief shook his head regretfully, seeming to accept the idea that if the dwergs allowed them to fight with them then the dwergs would be doing them a favor, "Still... Barmek. You have the fastest legs, skip over to the Forge Lord's and tell them what's going on here and make sure they know that this lot respect us and ask for permission to gain some glory in our land." He turned back to the King's Special as Barmek took off down the other tunnel. "We've had Roofless people come barging in on our lands before, disrespectful lot, seemed to think either we could handle ourselves or that we were some sort of monsters that needed offting. Must have been listening to the lies of those high dwarf sissies for too long. It's rather refreshing to meet Roof-lessers who know how to respect a body." He turned towards the tables, beckoning for them to follow him. "Come on, pull up a chair, you might as well, you're in for a long wait. Not sure if you want to try anything to eat..."
"If there is something that won't poison us, I am sure that we will be most grateful to partake of your generosity," Jeremiah the first smiled and bowed to their host.
"Hum," the Chief tugged his bread as he walked to the tables, "It's a question of what we have that you can eat."
"Think of them as the same as us," one of Lady Zilvra's brothers suggested, "We have much the same needs."
"Ah, that makes it simpler," the Chief nodded, "Broadfeast! Whip up something suitable for our elvish guests and make enough for nine."
"I apologize for not speaking sooner but I do not believe that I eat," Jeremiah the second ducked his head, "Seeing as I am just a magical construct."
"Don't worry," the Chief grinned, helping himself to a mugful of ale, "It won't go to waste." As he clunked his mug down on the table top the two he'd sent to check out their story can jogging back in. The King's Special tensed at the looks on their faces. They hurried over to the Chief and whispered in his ear. His face darkened in an instant and he swore, sulphuricaly. Without knowing exactly what he was saying, the King's Special flinched.
"Is there a problem?" Ulrich asked carefully.
"Too damn right there's a problem!" the Chief exploded, "Your story was pigging true! Gobannus burn it in his forge!"
"As much as I am glad that we have been proved to be honest people," Ulrich hazarded, "I take it from your reaction that there is a layer to this that I am not understanding."
"The unsmelted crude was using glyph magic. Our magic!" the Chief's wroth swelled when he realized that they didn't understand why it was so bad, "Our magic, handed down Forge Lord to Forge Lord since the time of the God War. Knowledge we protected when the weakling high dwarfs left to live in the cold crust of the mountains, bad ore to them!"
"Oh Lord," Kaelin put a hand over her mouth, "You've been robbed!"
"Yes!" the Chief yelled, "Robbed of the most precious, the most valuable..." He was so angry that he became speechless.
"May I present my commiserations that such a blasphemy has taken place," Jeremiah the first bowed his head to hide his smile, "And may I offer the body of the one who did it, though I am afraid that she will be senseless to any punishment that you care to visit upon her."
The Chief gripped the edge of the table for a few more minutes before he was able to let it go and pick up his mug again.
"Nah," he said, "No point hitting something that can't feel it and it isn't your fault either. Dragons can be tricky enough at the best of times and with on that is part something else..."
"Fae," Jeremiah the first interrupted.
"What?" the Chief asked.
"Fae, my good sir," Jeremiah the first repeated, "When I prayed to my god to reveal her nature, it was revealed to me that she was both dragon and fae."
There was a clatter as Broadfeast dropped a pan. It bounced off the flagstones with a resounding clang.
"Gobannus arm us right," the Chief arched his fingers in a gesture to ward off evil, "We will have to hope that Barmek is fast enough. This just gets worse."
"You know of the fae?" Ulrich asked.
"Keep it down man!" the Chief hissed, "You don't talk about those things too loud. Even those sissie high dwarfs know that."
"I take it that you do not respect the dwarfs who live in the mountains," Jeremiah the first observed.
"Bunch of pansies and rat munchers," the Chief grunted, "May a thousand goblins infest their beards!"
A cheer rang off the barrel vaulted ceiling at that, the tension breaking for the news that the glyphs had been stolen. In the middle of the cheering and whooping Broadfeast and his helpers walked over with platters piled high with steaming hot food.
"Sorry that your stuff has to be so bland," he said, "But our spices tend to make you people sick so we have to be careful."
"It's food, it's hot and no one's trying to kill me for it," Thorian grinned, "I call that a win!" Broadfeast grinned back, almost without realizing it, as Thorian piled into the food.
"So you have had some trouble with pests getting into places they shouldn't be?" Ulrich asked.
"Well they try to," the Chief replied with a smile and a wink, "But they don't have the knowing of the locomotives. You don't get a second chance with hot iron and live steam."
"Ah I see," Ulrich nodded, even though he didn't really.
"So what got you people from the world without a roof to come this deep down," the Chief asked over his own platter of food, "Most of the time you can't manage to even come down to their level." He nodded to the Ash Elves, "So what dragged you down this far."
"Well then," Ulrich smiled, settling into his favorite role of story teller, "I suppose the story really starts when we had to try and cross the lake between the towns of Lotton and the Nether Wallop."
"What's a lake?" the Chief asked with a frown.
Thus Ulrich found himself trying to narrate their journey across the lake and the run in with the white Kraken while being constantly cross examined on the points that dwergs had no reference for. Thankful the dwergs did have an idea of the white kraken and a lake, once they understood that they had a different name for the same thing. It was, despite the many interrupts, a masterful telling that gradually had the entire unit stop pretending to be training, too busy hanging on every word to pay attention to what they were supposed to be doing. By the end they were patting even Thorian on the back as Ulrich described the masterful throw to save the sailors life, forgetting to mention the fact that said sailor had to be fished out of the water afterwards.
They were still grinning when the Chief called them to task and sent them back to work. Kaelin waited until the shock of stave on stave was ringing out throughout the room before leaning towards the Chief.
"I know that your locomotive thing has been keeping you safe," she started, "But can you describe these 'pests' that have been bothering you in a little more detail?"
"Well," the Chief sat back, mulling it over, "They are big, like your friend said and have more hair than I reckon they know what to do with and they don't speak much, more make animal noises. Sometimes they go w-oof, w-oof, w-oof." He did a fairly passable imitation of a dog barking. "Other times they go a-wooooooooe, a-wooooooooe." The howl was not so good but it still made Kaelin freeze in her seat.
"Oh gods..." she groaned quietly.
"What is the matter, my dear Kaelin?" Jeremiah the first smiled as he leaned towards her, "You almost look like you have seen a ghost, my dear."
"Not a ghost," Kaelin admitted quietly, "But a blast from the past none the less. Do you want us to deal with them?" She turned her head to the Chief.
"Not my place to say, unfortunately," the Chief shrugged, "That will be up to the Forge Lords to decide but if you know them then we could probably do with your knowledge beside us rather than behind us. I take it that you do know them?"
"You could put it that way," Kaelin shifted uneasily.
"Do they come from the world without a roof?" the Chief asked, frowning slightly.
"Possibly," Kaelin said carefully.
"Oh don't fret yourself girl," the dwerg took a huge sup of his drink, "I'm not the one you really have to convince, it will be the Forge Lords you'll have to get on your side. It is the Forge Lords who know the secrets of the hot iron and live steam, unlike our furry pests. They don't know how to handle locomotives, that they don't."
"I am sorry, good sir," Jeremiah the second leaned forward, "I am embarrassed to admit this gap in my knowledge but you have mentioned many times now this low-co-motive. Please tell us, what is this low-co-motive?"
The Chief grinned and as he did so the shrill, whistling shriek echoed up the tunnel from whence they had come.
"You'll find out, sonny jim," the Chief said, "You'll find out."
