Deep below the Steading a dank chamber was lit
only by the dull embers of a dying fire. Its occupants lay dead in the vast
chamber beyond, but the room still held their scent, thick and pungent. Two
huge apes had laired within, pets to their master who shared the room. The musk
they extruded fought against the stench of the giant's unwashed flesh.
The
keeper, his name forgotten, had been a malformed wretch, but his hunched and
distorted form had not hindered his great strength. Now the massive arms lay
still, the flesh lifeless and corrupting, but a malign spirit burned within the
rotting corpse. No prayer had been said, his body lay unhallowed and desecrated
by the revolting orcs. Inside the body was a seed of undead life fed by an
anger that kept the spirit of the keeper bound to the dungeon and the inanimate
flesh. Suddenly the flame burst into life, a voice called to the keeper and he
called back; A scream of pain, of loss, a hiss that crackled with fire. The
power of the divine burnt it though the serpent was made of flame. A portion of
it died, a limb cut off, the severed end came thrashing back and desperately
sought another host. It felt the spirit of the malformed giant, felt the anger,
the overwhelming hate. The serpent knew the call would be answered and lent the
giant strength. Dead flesh moved, a red light burned within the cold staring
eyes.
The
keeper rose, he touched the gaping wounds, a swollen tongue ran across blue
lips, a thumbless hand reached up and felt along the crack across his skull.
The hand came back, granules of dried blood coating the fingertips. The keeper
put them to his tongue, there was no taste, but he smiled anyway. The call came
again. It sent shivers up his spine. The shivers turned into a rootwork of fire
that traced a path across his nerves.
"Ardare..."
the voice called to him. "Ardare..." it demanded.
"I
am here," a sepulchered voice broke out, no lung or cord of muscle had
made the sound. The fire that burned behind its eyes came from the spirit
world, it was not fed by air or flesh; the keeper lived but was undead.
*
* *
"What
kind of monster is this?" asked Harold.
The
halfling peered at a column sculpted in the shape of dozens of tiny creatures,
each no more than two feet high. The stone was carved into a human shape, two
arms, two legs, a head, but with baggy skin and a wrinkled scowling face. A
bulging middle was set on spindly legs, a jowly chin on narrow shoulders; a
pair of glaring eyes deep beneath beetled brows, behind a huge bulbous nose and
framed by wide protruding ears.
"That
is a type of gremlin," said Talberth, "A jermlaine."
"Vermin,"
Ivo said with some distaste.
"They
certainly abide with rats, but it is said that they are distant cousins of the
gnomish race," Talberth continued.
"Foul
lies!" Ivo exclaimed. "They are cousin to rat and gremlin, not to
gnome."
"An
ugly beast," said Harold. "Is this their size?"
"Maybe
they were bigger when these stones were carved," Talberth said, "but
they are smaller now, some just half this size, no more than a foot tall."
"Look
at all of these," Harold walked from column to column as they made their
way to the center of the room, "That is an ettercap, a merchant I knew had
a pair of them to guard his wealth. He kept them, and more importantly his
treasure, in catacombs beneath his manor."
"They
plague the Dim Forest, ally with spiders and the like." the ranger added.
He'd gone on ahead, found the pit again, returned and now stood beside them.
"They are skilled at setting traps and filled with poison."
Harold
shuddered.
"All
the pillars seem to be carved in the shape of monsters," said the ranger.
"We could spend hours looking at them."
"These
carvings are wonderfully done," Ivo said, "but we waste time, you are
right Harald. Show us to this pit."
They
passed by a dozen more of the columns, the creatures carven on them grew, from
ettercaps to ogre's and trolls, then giants and as they neared the center of
the room the columns were shaped into the form of great dragons, their forelegs
raised, their heads down and their spread wings forming the vaulting roof. The
power of Ivo's spell shone further than Harald's torch had done. They could see
the top of the pillars and the roof of the vast hall. The apex of the ceiling
was split, a center stone slipping from the grip of the adjoining rocks. Below,
the cover of the pit had fractured and fallen down into a dark and bottomless
shaft. Harald leaned over the crumbling edge and held the enchanted light
above, it lit the sides and showed the walls of the shaft; dark openings could
be seen, like the hollows of eyes in a fleshless skull. Four gaps were set some
twenty feet down, each opposite the other like the points on a compass, but there
was no floor,
"You
think the gibberlings came from there?" asked Harold.
"Maybe,
but their marks seem to be everywhere," the ranger bent and felt along the
edge of the pit. "Just like the other..."
Ivo
stood at the ranger's side. "We could climb this," he said looking at
the grooves cut into the side of the shaft.
"Maybe.
I wasn't able to check the entire chamber, there may be other doors or other
pits," the ranger said.
"We
could throw those gibberling down this hole," suggested Harold.
"If
it didn't kill them they would just climb back up," said Ivo shaking his
head. "This pit is an open door, I hate to leave it at our back but we
need to see what else might be in this chamber. Talberth, the light on that
torch will not last much longer, can you renew it?"
"I
know the spell, but I do not have it prepared," Talberth told him.
"Just light the torch, Harald do you have any more?"
"I
do but I hate to waste them."
"No
waste when there is need," said Ivo. "But I say we return to
Telenstil. I want to hide the opening up above, make it appear that the ravine
is choked with falling rock, keep the giants from doing such if they follow the
gibberlings' path back to here."
"There
are things I need to gather, wood for one, and I want to check our trail,"
said the ranger. "I will go back."
"Well
I'm leaving the orcs here," said Talberth, then he thought for a moment.
"No, I'll stay as well. These carvings interest me."
"I'll
stay," Harold joined in. "I want to look around myself."
"Me
too!" Little Rat spoke up cheerfully.
Ah! A true scholar . . . study the runes before he's -- err, I mean they're -- destroyed.
ReplyDeleteAlways a good idea... Unless they're Explosive Runes. BOOM!
ReplyDelete