Chapter 8
The next week was uneventful, and they began to see fewer and fewer merchants and tribesmen as they pushed on through the empty plains. Gradually, the terrain became rockier, and the vegetation became more sparse and dry. Rough cliff sides rose and fell on either side of the trade road, forcing them to move cautiously to avoid causing a rock slide. Then, early one morning, they found their way completely blocked by a landslide that covered the entire trade road. They were forced to double back to try to find an alternate route through the treacherous terrain, and soon found a suitable trail leading to the top of the canyon a few miles back. Once they reached the top, they continued their course to the south, moving slowly and choosing their path carefully to avoid their horses slipping on the loose gravel that covered the rocky terrain.
The next afternoon they found their way blocked once again, this time by a wide gorge that stretched for miles in either direction. The companions stopped a few feet from the edge, and saw that it was nearly a mile down to the gorge's bottom.
Dar slipped down from his horse, and peered over the edge. “It doesn't appear to be too steep. Perhaps we can locate a trail that will allow us to lead the horses down. Then we can search for another that leads up the other side.”
“It’s either that or take several days to make our way around it.” Sly grunted sourly.
Damion considered it for a moment, then opted to look for a way down. After a few minutes search, they located a suitable trail, and carefully began to make their way down, leading their horses by the reins to help prevent any accidents. It took them nearly three hours to reach the bottom of the steep trail, and they were all winded when they finally reached level ground. They stopped to rest and refresh themselves at the edge of a small stream that carved its way through the center of the gorge.
“How far do you think we've traveled today?” Damion asked Sly as he refilled his flask with the cold clear water.
“No more than five miles.” Sly replied with a sigh. “The trails we've been forced to follow are pretty winding, so we haven't moved as far south as it may have seemed. Once we make our way out of this gorge we can try and locate the trade road again. We are well past that rock slide by now."
Damion glanced at the dark threatening clouds that were forming overhead, and they could clearly hear the echoes of thunder in the distance. “It looks like a storm is moving in. I really don't think we should try to make our way up in the rain. It’s dangerous enough as it is.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Let’s try and find some shelter from the storm. Somewhere we are safe from any flash floods. We can set off again once the rain has stopped.” He sent Snowfeather ahead to scout for any suitable shelter while he and the others continued to rest and catch their breath.
It wasn't long before the beautiful snow owl returned from its search. “There is a large cavern with a narrow opening about a mile upstream.” He reported, landing gently on Damion's shoulder. “It looked pretty deep, but I didn't investigate very far. There were a lot of bats.” He fluffed his feathers. “I hate bats!”
Damion snorted in amusement, then he and the others remounted their horses, and followed Snowfeather to the cavern's entrance. It took a little coaxing to get the horses to enter through the narrow opening, but once inside the large cavern, they seemed to calm down.
The cavern was nearly fifty feet wide, and appeared to be completely natural. Thousands and thousands of bats covered the ceiling above, making it appear as though it were moving. The floor of the cavern was thick with bat guano, forcing the companions to tread carefully to avoid slipping in the muck. The cavern led deep into the cliff side, and into the gloomy darkness beyond the range of the failing daylight.
Kariah crowded closer to Damion as she stared up at the writhing mass of flying creatures above, her eyes wide with fear. She slipped under his arm for protection, and he could feel her body tremble as she pressed against him. His soul thrilled at her touch, and he pulled her closer to comfort her. The strange feelings he felt for the young elf maiden immediately resurfaced, and he suddenly found his heart beating furiously in his chest.
Sly moved a little deeper into the cavern, then stopped. “There’s a passage that appears to lead into another cavern.”
Everyone moved to join him, stepping carefully in the gloomy darkness.
“Do you want to take a look?” Damion asked. “Maybe there won't be as many bats if we move a little deeper.”
Sly nodded. “Aye, but we're going to need some light. I don't want us to start stumbling around in the darkness and get separated.”
Damion thought quietly for a moment, then drew in his magic. A small, fiery ball of white light appeared in the air before him, nearly blinding everyone with its intensity. He squinted his eyes in irritation, then willed the light to dim until it was nothing more than a gently glowing orb. It continued to float in the air before them, and moved to light their way whenever they moved.
“Impressive.” Sly complimented him, staring at the floating orb and nodding his approval. “I guess that your magic does have its uses, after all.”
Damion smiled, knowing his friend's dislike for magic, then led the way into the passage. They immediately noticed that the walls of the passage were unnaturally smooth, and polished to a shine that reflected the light from the glowing orb.
“There’s no way that this can be natural.” Sly murmured, running a hand over its smooth wall. “Someone put a lot of time and effort into polishing this stone.” He stared hard at the dusty floor. “I don't see any signs that anyone has passed through here recently,” He grumbled after a long moment. “but I still get the feeling that we're not alone down here.”
Damion looked to Dar. “Do you have any idea who or what may have built this passage?”
Dar shook his head. “I’ve never heard of any caverns in this area. It could be a goblin hold, but I wouldn't think they would have the skill or patience that it would take to make such a passage.”
They continued down the passageway for about fifty more yards, then it suddenly opened up into another chamber that was nearly twice the size of the first. The walls of the enormous underground chamber had also been polished to an almost mirrorlike perfection, and several large veins of rock crystal crisscrossed the high, equally polished ceiling. The light from the orb reflected off the crystals and sent a rainbow of colors dancing across the stone walls. In the center of the chamber was a large, elegant fountain with crystal clear water flowing from the top, cascading to the lower levels where it gathered in a deep pool in the chamber floor. The entire fountain had been carved from pure white marble, and polished to a mirrorlike finish.
Positioned in even intervals around the chamber were twenty or so statues of short, stocky-looking warriors dressed in elaborate-looking armored vests and bearing a variety of different weapons.
“Dwarves!” Dar exclaimed in surprise, examining one of the statues closely. They were amazingly lifelike. “They must have been the ones who built these chambers!” He frowned. “Strange, though. I've never heard of any dwarven settlements anywhere on this continent. They are mostly from the western continent.”
“Do you think they are still here?” Kariah asked with some concern.
“It’s hard to tell.” The boy replied, his tiny face growing troubled. “But we'd better keep our eyes and ears open, just in case. Something doesn't feel right about this place. I feel like we're being watched.”
They tethered their horses to the fountain to drink, then set about putting a cold dinner together from their dwindling stores.
Snowfeather disappeared into the darkness on silent wings, only to return moments later with an enormous rat clenched tightly in his beak. He settled on the edge of the fountain and quickly gobbled it down. He was preparing to go off in search of another, when a sudden movement in the shadows caught his attention.
One of the dwarven statues had suddenly began to move, creeping forward t
owards the companions on silent feet, a long wicked-looking dagger clenched tightly in one hand. Several other statues appeared to come to life, producing their own weapons, also moving slowly towards the companions.
Snowfeather let out a great squawk of surprise that echoed loudly throughout the huge cavern chamber. “Damion! Look out behind you! Those statues are moving!”
Damion reacted instantly, drawing his sword and whirling around to face the advancing figures, all in one single motion. By now, all the statues had come to life, and completely encircled the companions.
“I think we've discovered what was bothering you.” Sly growled to Dar. “Someone has bewitched these statues. That was why you felt like you were being watched.”
Dar peered a little closer at the stocky statues, then exclaimed. “Those are not bewitched statues! They are dwarves! They must have covered themselves in stone dust and posed as statues! And they did a fair job of it, too! They had me completely fooled!”
The dwarves continued to slowly advance, and the companions were preparing to defend themselves when a deep booming voice echoed through the cavern. “Drop your weapons! You are completely surrounded, and there is no chance of escape!” The voice was heavily accented, and seemed to come from the back of the chamber.
Damion looked at Sly with a slightly amused expression. “Do you want to take care of this, or shall I?”
“Go ahead. Just don't hurt them too badly. Dwarves really aren't so bad. A sight better than goblins, and they brew delicious ale.”
Damion laughed, then drew in his magic and focused his concentration carefully. The dust-covered dwarves all suddenly began to howl in pain and surprise as the steel of their weapons and armor instantly began to glow red-hot, as if they had just been pulled from a forge. The companions all began to laugh as the stocky little warriors tried desperately to remove the smoking hot vests with already burned fingers. After a moment, the dwarves gave up and dashed passed the companions and began throwing themselves into the cool water of the fountain. The searing metal was quickly quenched, leaving the burned dwarves to soak in the cool liquid, moaning and groaning pitifully.
Sly wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes with the back of his hand, then sheathed his sword. “We come peacefully.” He bellowed loudly, making sure he could be heard over the cries of pain. “If you refrain from any further attacks, my friend here,” He glanced at Damion and chuckled. “will refrain from turning you all into charcoal.”
Hearing this, the injured dwarves in the fountain quickly splashed away from them in fear. Another dwarf suddenly appeared from the darkness at the far end of the chamber and marched fearlessly up to the companions. He stopped a few feet away, and threw a disgusted look at the other dwarves, who still floated in the cool water, nursing their burns and moaning pitifully. He turned and fixed Damion with an angry glare. “Who are you?” He demanded in a booming voice. “Why do you bother us? These caverns belong to the dwarves! You have no business being here!”
This dwarf was noticeably different from the others. He was at least a foot taller than his brethren, nearly five feet tall, and he wore superbly-crafted suit of armor made up of thousands of tiny overlapping scales that had been polished to a brilliant sheen. His long fiery-red hair hung down his back in elaborate braids, and his beard, which seemed to sprout from just below his eyelids, was meticulously groomed, and hung nearly to his knees. He carried himself with the air of someone who was accustomed to giving orders, and glared at the companions as though it was below his station to be conversing with such barbarians.
“Calm yourself, friend.” Sly said in a placating tone. “We meant no harm or disrespect. We were just searching for a place to ride out the coming storm, and stumbled across these caverns.”
The dwarf snorted, clearly not believing a word of his story. He remained silent, but continued staring at the companions with an angry belligerence.
“We were searching for a way out of the canyon, so we may continue our journey.” The little man continued undaunted. “Do you know of such a way?”
The dwarf snorted again, still staring at them suspiciously. “Back the way you came.” He answered shortly.
Damion shook his head. “That won't work. Try again.”
“There is no way up the south side of the gorge. You must return the way you came, and detour around.” He continued to glare at the companions, but began to stroke his beard nervously.
“What about through the caverns?” Dar asked, watching the dwarf closely. “Is there a way leading to the top from underground?”
The dwarf was silent for several moments, his eyes suddenly thoughtful as he continued to stroke his flowing beard. “Perhaps, but you must first get permission from our king, and he dislikes trespassers in our caverns. He will not like your presence here. Magic of any kind is strictly prohibited in our caverns.” He gave Damion a rather nervous look.
“He doesn't have to like it.” Damion said bluntly.
The stocky little warrior gulped audibly. “There may be a way we can come to an agreement.” He stammered quickly. “If you were to perform a service for us, then he may grant you access to our caverns.”
“What kind of service?” Sly asked warily.
The dwarf shook his head. “We will discuss this later. I will lead you to the main hall, and you can explain your needs to the king directly. He will make the final decision in this matter.” He barked an order to the injured dwarves, who were continuing to nurse their wounds, then waited as the companions gathered their horses and belongings. He suddenly swore, staring up at Storm with wide fearful eyes as Damion led the enormous warhorse forward. “You-You cannot bring this beast!” He stammered. “The king would be horrified with such a creature moving through our caverns!”
Damion glared dangerously at the dwarf. “He’ll get over it.”
Storm snorted at the tiny warrior contemptuously, then began to paw at the stone floor, sending a shower of sparks flying from the steel shoes on his hooves.
The dwarf jumped back fearfully, then, with a somewhat hopeless look, he turned and led the companions through an archway at the far end of the chamber. It led into another long corridor that sloped downward in a gentle but steady angle. They passed several other passages and corridors without pausing, and continued following their dwarven guide down the sloping tunnel, and deeper into the maze of caverns.
Dar began to question the dwarf, commenting on the exquisite craftsmanship of the tunnels, and the amazingly-detailed carvings that decorated the stone walls in an effort to draw him into a conversation.
“My people have lived in these tunnels for over a thousand years.” The dwarf informed them proudly. “They were discovered by my great grandfather, and over the centuries, we've worked and toiled to expand the caverns and improve our home. We are very proud of what we have accomplished here.” He held a stubby fingered hand up to his eyes to shield them from the light of the floating orb, which still flew a few feet ahead of them, looking like a tiny star against the darkness. He looked at Damion. “Is there anything you can do about that?” He gestured at the tiny ball of light. “It is like someone is shoving red hot daggers in my eyes.”
Damion nodded, then willed the orb to dim to a gentle glow.
The dwarf sighed in relief. “We have no need for such light down here in our caverns.” He explained as he continued down the tunnel. “We harvest a certain type of fungi that produces a very dim glow, and it provides us with all of the light we need.”
“How is it that no one has ever discovered your existence here?” Dar asked curiously.
“We rarely find any need to reveal ourselves to outsiders.” The dwarf replied with a shrug. “We are a fully self-sufficient race. We have no need to mingle with the outside world, although a few dwarves do occasionally travel abroad to trade our wares.”
They followed the dwarf into another large cavern that was bustling with activity. Hundreds of dwarves filled the cavern, apparently running about
their daily chores and errands. There were dozens of small dugout chambers lining the walls of the massive cavern, each occupied by several dwarves who were busy creating beautiful crafts which they displayed on large tables in front of their chambers to sell to their fellow kinsmen. A great many of these chambers were filled with finely crafted weapons and armor of every make and description, while others contained fine jewelry and other trinkets. Still others were filled with more ordinary, day to day items like silverware and thick bottomed pots and pans for cooking. All the laboring dwarves seemed quite intent on their work, and their superior craftsmanship showed in every item they produced.
The companions were greeted by the bustling dwarves with frightened stares and whispers as they made their way through the huge cavern. They could clearly hear angry mutters ripple through the crowd as they passed, and a great many of them dropped what they were doing to follow along behind, their faces suspicious and distrustful. There were several fearful screams as the glowing orb floated through the crowd before them, clearing a wide path, and causing many of the dwarves to shade their eyes from the sudden light.
The companions gazed with awe and fascination at all the different sights of the crowded chamber. They were amazed that such an established civilization could reside in the subterranean caverns without anyone knowing of their presence. They passed a huge fire pit that had been built in the center of the chamber where dozens of dwarves rushed around preparing and serving a variety of strange-looking foods to a waiting throng of hungry customers.
“Where do you obtain your food and supplies?” Damion asked, his stomach growling audibly. “I can't image you can grow anything down here in the dark.”
“You may be surprised at what we are able to produce underground.” The dwarf replied. “There are a great number of different edible fungi that grow in our caverns. Many are very flavorful, and highly nutritious. We also have a number of lakes and streams that are teeming with fish. There is also a certain type of lichen that we harvest that is prized for its special curative properties. It is almost as good as gold. The rest is obtained by trade. Our weapons and armor are highly valued throughout the world for their superior crafting.”
They came to a stop at the far end of the enormous chamber near a small crystal clear pool that was fed by a tiny waterfall that poured from a dark crevice in the stone ceiling. Their stocky guide bellowed something in his own language to several onlookers, who quickly hurried off, then turned to the companions. “You may leave your mounts here. They will be tended to while you meet with the king.”
The onlookers reappeared with several large burlap bags filled with oats and barley, though they all seemed very reluctant to approach Storm, who stared at the dwarves with open hostility. One onlooker finally screwed up enough courage to slowly approach, while the others quickly tended to rest of the horses, prudently leaving their foolhardy kinsman to deal with the fierce stallion.
Damion gently patted the fearsome warhorse on the neck. “Stay alert, and watch over the other horses. I'll be back soon.” He murmured quietly. The stallion pawed at the stone floor fiercely, and tossed its head high. He laughed, then added. “Try not to hurt anyone too badly.” He laughed again, then turned and followed their guide, leaving the frightened dwarf to stare at the warhorse apprehensively.
Their guide led them through another ornately-carved archway, and down several more passageways before they finally emerged into a huge oval room of such stunning magnificence that the companions all stopped in their tracks, gasping in utter disbelief.
The polished walls of the subterranean chamber were a spider web of thick ropey tendrils of pure gold, which spread across the ceiling and cascaded down in a glittering waterfall in the center of the chamber, forming an infinitely priceless pillar. A large, elaborately-decorated throne had been painstakingly carved into the base of the golden waterfall, and was piled high with numerous brightly colored pillows. A grossly fat dwarf dressed in dark blue robes of the finest fabrics lounged atop the pillows, staring at the new arrivals with wide, disbelieving eyes.
Damion gazed closely at the fat little dwarf, who continued to stare at them in stunned silence. Upon close examination, the king appeared to be a rather greasy-looking fellow, with a shrewd face that had the petulant look of a child who had been overly spoiled. His long graying hair and beard was groomed to near perfection, and numerous chains and jewels draped his fat neck and stubby fingers. Great beads of sweat poured from every pore, soaking his splendid robes, and adding to his greasy appearance. Nearly thirty armed dwarves in full battle armor flanked either side of the throne, their eyes fixed upon the companions and the strange floating ball of light that hovered before them.
Several female servants who knelt near the edge of the throne gasped in fear, then disappeared behind the king's fierce-looking personal guard, who continued to watch them with stony expressions, their hands firmly upon their weapons.
The companions stopped about a dozen paces from the throne, and their guide stepped forward and knelt down on one knee humbly. “Father, I bring travelers lost in our caverns.”
The dwarven king stared at the strange glowing object that hovered silently before him, then to the companions. His bearded face suddenly grew angry, and he began speaking rapidly in the dwarven language. He cast another angry glance at them, then spoke to the kneeling dwarf in common speech. “You bring outsiders into my presence? Have you lost your wits entirely?” He spoke scathingly, causing the kneeling dwarf to flinch. “Could you not handle this on your own? You would risk bringing them into the heart of our caverns, and exposing our people to the world?”
“B-But father!” Their guide stammered pleadingly. “W-We tried to force them to leave, but the large one destroyed all of our weapons!”
The king snorted in disbelief. “Destroyed your weapons? How?” He focused his gaze upon Damion, staring him up and down with indifference.
“H-He used magic, father! He forced me to guide them here!” His voice trailed out into a shameful whisper.
The king's face drained of color, and he snapped back in his throne, eyeing Damion with terrified eyes. “A sorcerer? You have brought a sorcerer among us? Garth, have you gone mad?” His voice was outraged. “You have allowed him to perform magic in our sacred caverns?” He turned his frightened eyes to Damion. “What business do they have here?”
Damion’s temper was slowly rising, but he somehow managed to keep it under control.
Their guide winced at his father's harsh words. “F-father, they are not here to cause us harm. They are merely searching for passage to the south side of the chasm so they may continue on their journey.” He quickly stood and turned to the companions. “This is my father, Tarok Stonecrusher, King of the Southern Dwarves.”
The companions all bowed respectfully, then Damion stepped forward to stand before the dwarven king, causing the fat little dwarf to flinch back violently. “Greetings, your majesty. I am Damion Omensent, and these are my companions, Gabriel Quickhand, Dar of the Alena, and Lady Kariah of Sevria.” He gestured to each in turn.
The king gazed at each person momentarily, then quickly looked back to Damion. “Why have you come here? Is it true that you performed foul magic in our sacred caverns?” The arrogance was quickly returning to the dwarven king's voice, and he stared at Damion imperiously.
“We were searching for a way up the south side of the ravine when a storm forced us to search for shelter.” Damion replied calmly. “That’s when we stumbled across your caverns. Your warriors attacked us, and I was forced to take steps to protect my companions and myself. Your warriors were not injured badly.”
The fat little dwarf looked outraged. His pudgy face grew a violent shade of red, and he appeared to be on the verge of ordering his warriors to attack, when Snowfeather suddenly appeared from the darkness, gliding ghost-like upon silent wings. He settled easily on Damion's outstretched arm, then calmly began to preen his glistening white feathers. The king slowly sat
forward, gazing at the graceful bird in fascination, his anger quickly forgotten. “What a remarkable-looking creature! I have never seen anything like it before! What is it called?”
Damion smiled. “His name is Snowfeather. He is a snow owl.”
The king watched as the ghostly bird hopped from Damion's arm to his shoulder, then turned his attention back to the companions. “What is it that you wish from us?” He asked his expression wary.
“We are on a journey of the greatest urgency.” Dar replied, stepping forward. “We wish only to reach the top of the southern edge of the gorge. If there is such a way through the caverns, we ask that you have a guide lead us out, and we'll bother you no further.”
The king frowned. “What is the nature of this urgent quest?”
Dar glanced to Damion, who nodded, then quickly explained the sudden appearance of the dragon, Kaviel's discovery of the Dragon Gem, and his destructive search for the Dragon Sword.
The king's expression grew grim. “This is very troubling news. I know of the legends of the Dragon Gem and the Dragon Sword. It was one of our own, a black-hearted dwarf that had been expelled from the colony for using magic, that created the Dragon Sword. It was forged from the finest steel, quenched in the blood of a dragon, and enchanted to be the key that unlocked the power of the Dragon Gem.” His expression was grave. “If this madman locates the Dragon Sword and unlocks the Dragon Gem's power, even we dwarves will be in danger.”
Dar nodded. “So you see our need to continue our quest as quickly as possible. We need to reach the top of the gorge to the south, and we need your guides to help us find a way.”
The king fell silent for a moment, his bearded face clouded in thought. “I think there may be a way for us to help one another.” He said finally. “We have a small problem that you may be able to aid us in solving.” He glanced at Garth. “But first, I must confer with my son. I will have someone lead you to the guest quarters so you may rest and refresh yourselves. We can continue our discussion later.”
Dar bowed to the fat little dwarf respectfully. “We thank you for your hospitality, your majesty.”
They followed a nervous servant through another elaborately-carved archway, and down a long corridor to a small, but richly decorated chamber. The chamber floor was littered with large pillows of every color on which they could relax, and in one corner stood a small tinkling fountain filled with cold, crystal clear water.
The servant noticed Kariah eyeing the fountain in fascination as she searched for the water's source, and grunted. “It is fed by a natural spring. There are similar springs in almost all of the royal chambers.” He turned to the others. “I will return shortly with refreshments. Is there anything that you may require?”
“Ale.” Sly grunted, throwing himself onto one of the large pillows. “Lots of ale. And food.”
The servant bowed respectfully, then hurried from the room.
“What do you think they want from us?” Damion asked, splashing some of the cool water onto his face and neck.
“It’s hard to say.” Dar said thoughtfully. “But it must be something serious. I have never known a dwarf to ask for help with anything. They must be pretty desperate.”
Sly nodded in agreement. “I have known many dwarves over the years. They are fierce warriors who fear nothing. It must be something fairly serious for them to even consider asking outsiders for aid.”
The servant reappeared a few minutes later carrying a tray with several large bowls of stew, and a small cask of ale with several tankards. He placed the tray of food on a large pillow, then turned and presented Sly with the cask of ale. “His majesty sends this with his utmost regard. It is from his own private stock.”
Sly grinned broadly, then quickly broached the cask and poured himself a tankard. He drained it without hesitation, then sighed lustily and wiped his mouth with one arm. “This is, by far, the best brew I have ever tasted!” He poured tankards for everyone, then refilled his own and drained it once again.
The dwarven servant laughed. “Of course, it is! Our king demands the finest! Few others have ever tasted that ale outside of the royal family.”
Their guide, the dwarven prince, Garth, appeared at the chamber’s entrance, and watched the companions for a moment with a slight look of apprehension.
“Come, my short little friend!” Sly said extravagantly, filling a tankard for the fiery haired dwarf. “Join us in a drink. Your father was kind enough to provide us with a most excellent tasting brew.”
Garth joined them, and took the tankard that the little man poured for him with a nod of thanks. He took a long drink, then sighed. He glanced at the servant and gestured for him to leave, then turned back to the others, his expression conflicted.
“Was there something you wished to discuss with us?” Damion asked, noticing his expression.
“Well...” The stocky little dwarf coughed uncomfortably. “I...uh...I wished to apologize for my manners upon our first meeting.” He was clearly not accustomed to apologizing for his actions. “I hope that we can put it behind us and start anew.”
"It's already been forgotten." Sly waved his hand dismissively, then drained his tankard. “I absolutely love this brew!” He belched thunderously, then refilled his tankard yet again. “I have never tasted anything like it before!”
Damion snorted in amusement. “And he has tasted more ale than you could possibly imagine.”
The little man threw him a dark look, but didn't reply.
The dwarven prince's chest swelled with pride. “Our brewers are the finest in the world. The brew you now drink is reserved solely for the royal family. The recipe is as closely guarded as the king himself.”
“Then why did the king honor us with such an extravagant gift?” Damion asked, watching the dwarven prince closely. “He must really need our help if he would so willingly part with such a prized treasure.”
“My father will explain that matter soon enough. But...” He glanced towards the chamber entrance to be sure that no one was nearby to hear. “I wish to ask you for a boon.” He glanced around nervously, then lowered his voice to a murmur. “Is it true that you are following the dragon to the south?”
“That’s the plan.” Damion replied, settling into a large pile of pillows.
“Do you plan to pass through Kainpre on your way to the south?” The dwarf asked, his voice scarcely more than a whisper.
Damion and Sly exchanged a glance. Sly's eyebrow was cocked as he looked back to the dwarf. “We were considering it. Why do you ask?”
Garth shifted anxiously. “It is my betrothed, Gretta. She accompanied her father, a merchant of great wealth, on a trip to the walled city of Kainpre several weeks ago, but has yet to return. They should have been back by now. I fear something has happened to prevent their return.” He shifted again. “Recently, many of our people who have ventured out of the caverns have failed to return from their journeys. And now, my Gretta is missing, too!"
Sly immediately saw where this was leading. “So you wish to join us so you may search for your betrothed once we reach the city?”
The dwarven prince nodded emphatically. “I would undertake this journey alone, but I have never traveled outside of these caverns.” A hopeless expression fell across his heavily-bearded face. “I don't think I would survive on the surface without help.”
Damion felt pity for the despairing dwarf, and exchanged slight nods with both Dar and Sly before saying. “You may accompany us to Kainpre, though once we arrive, we'll be pressing on to the south. I really don't know how much help we will be.”
Garth broke into a wide smile which was almost completely hidden beneath his thick facial hair. “Thank you, my friends! I will be forever in your debt!” He rose to his feet and bowed deeply. “I will leave you to rest. My father will summon you when he is ready to discuss his proposal.” He bowed once more, then hurried from the chamber.
A few hours later, Garth reappeared. “My father requests your presence
in the throne room, at your leisure, of course.”
Damion rose to his feet, then glanced at Sly. “Let’s let them sleep.” He gestured to Kariah, who was curled up comfortably on a huge pillow, then to Dar, who was sprawled out on the hard stone floor a few feet away, snoring remarkably loud for someone of such small stature. “It doesn't make sense to wake them. Besides, I doubt if we'd be able to revive Dar.”
Sly snorted in amusement. “Doesn’t hold his drink very well, does he?"
They left their friends in peace, and followed Garth back to the extravagant throne room where the dwarven king sat awaiting their arrival.
The fat little monarch struggled to his feet with a great deal of difficulty, and greeted them anxiously. “Welcome, my friends.” He wheezed, breathing hard from the effort it had taken to haul his morbidly fat body from the golden throne. He clapped his chubby little hands together twice, and two servants quickly brought forth a pair of large wooden chairs with bright red cushions, which they placed directly before the throne. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”
Damion wasn't at all surprised at the dwarven king's abrupt change in behavior. It was obvious that something big was troubling the obese little dwarf, and it appeared he was quite desperate for help.
The king patiently waited until they had taken their seats, his shrewd little eyes nervously appraising the strange outsiders. When they were comfortable, he dismissed his servants and the fierce-looking soldiers that flanked either side of his throne, showing them that he had a great deal of trust that they meant him no harm. Once they were alone, he carefully lowered his bulk back onto the throne. “I will get right to the point.” He began, his voice grave. “We have a problem that you may be able to assist us in solving.” He paused as Garth brought forth several huge tankards of ale. He took a long steadying drink, then belched thunderously. “Better bring in the entire keg.” He said to his son.
Garth nodded, then quickly disappeared to retrieve a cask of brew. He reappeared a moment later with a large cask which he placed between his father and Damion and Sly, then went to stand attentively next to the throne.
The king turned back to the companions. “As I was saying, we have a rather serious situation that you may be able to assist us with in return for a guide to lead you through our maze of caverns.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “Our colony has existed in these caverns for almost a thousand years without fear of intrusion of any kind. We have lived here in peace and tranquility, hidden away from the world, and those who may wish us harm. Our colony has prospered greatly over the centuries, and we slowly began to expand our caverns to accommodate our swelling population.”
“Seems reasonable.” Sly commented as he sipped at his tankard of ale. “You have a well-established community in these caverns. I imagine it takes quite a bit of effort to provide adequate space for them all.”
The dwarven king nodded his head. “Our diggers work constantly to provide more room for our colony to expand.” His expression grew grim. “A few weeks ago, a group of diggers discovered an enormous cavern that would be large enough to house our entire population twice over. The diggers decided to explore the cavern, believing it to be empty.” His voice trembled slightly. “They were wrong.”
Damion and Sly exchanged dubious looks, then waited for the fat little monarch to continue.
“There was some sort of beast living inside of the cavern. It killed a dozen of our diggers before the rest were able to drive it back, and seal the chamber’s entrance.” He stared at Damion and Sly with pleading eyes. “It is only a matter of time before the creature breaks through and begins rampaging through caverns, killing us all.”
“What does this creature look like?” Sly asked, draining his tankard and refilling it from the cask.
“It is huge, almost fifteen feet tall, with a body similar to that of a cat. Its head is very small, though it has great tusks jutting up from its lower jaw. Its entire body is covered in thousands of thin piercing needles that it hurls at its prey with deadly accuracy. The needles appear to be extremely poisonous, causing almost instant death.”
Sly cursed loudly. “A grimlot! By the gods, you've unearthed a grimlot!” He cursed again, his face totally devoid of color.
Damion looked at him curiously. “I take it you have heard of this creature before?” He was rather surprised by his friend's reaction.
Sly nodded. “Aye, I've heard of them. I have never actually seen one myself, but then again, most who encounter a grimlot do not survive to tell the tale.” He took a long pull from his tankard, his hands shaking slightly. “If that thing were to get loose, it would kill every living thing in these caverns!”
“That is what we fear.” The dwarven king had a slight air of desperation about him. “It must be destroyed, but I fear we haven't the power!” He looked at Damion. “But you are a sorcerer! You can use your magic to destroy the creature!”
Damion was quiet for a moment, his expression troubled. “So, you want us to destroy the grimlot in exchange for a guide to lead us through the caverns. Is that what you’re saying?”
The fat little monarch winced. “It doesn't sound like a very fair arrangement if you put it that way.”
Damion considered it for another moment, then replied. “It’s a deal. I'll destroy the grimlot, but you must provide us with full provisions before we leave.”
“Are you mad?” Sly exclaimed in disbelief. “You want to try and face a grimlot?”
Damion shrugged. “I’m already planning to face a dragon. I may as well try to help them with their problem. I can use the practice.”
Sly stared at him in disbelief, completely speechless.
“Do they have any weaknesses that you know of?” Damion asked the scruffy little man curiously.
Sly continued to stare at him incredulously for several more moments, then he sighed in resignation. “Fire. I've heard that they are terrified of fire. They also have very poor eyesight from living in the darkness underground. They're almost completely blind, but they can still lock onto your body heat. And they have a tremendous sense of smell. Once they have your scent and your body heat, they shower you with those deadly needles. After that, you’re an easy meal.” He frowned worriedly. “So how do you plan on stopping it?”
Damion broke into a wide smile. “I’m not sure yet. I think I may just play it by ear.”
Sly groaned, dropping his face into his hands despairingly.
“So, you will help us?” The dwarven king asked, his eyes alight with hope.
Damion nodded. “Aye. We will help.”
Sly looked up from his hands suddenly. “But you have to toss in a couple of casks of this ale.” He drained the contents of his tankard, then refilled it once again.
The king laughed heartily. “It’s a deal! I'll have the diggers start clearing the chamber’s opening immediately. It will take several hours to clear a path. I'll send for you as soon as they are finished. I'm sure would like to take this time to rest and prepare yourselves.” He struggled to hoist his great bulk up from the golden throne once again, then bowed as deeply as his portly frame would allow. “I thank you on behalf of all of my people. We will be forever in your debt.”