CHAPTER 16

They had explored the plateau and found that the only way off, other than the way they had come, was through the cave, so they packed up and set off.  The inner cave was an ice-covered chamber full of stalactites and stalagmites.  Aenarion was amazed at the sheer beauty of it.  They continued on until they came to an entryway where a large wooden door had once stood.  It was now in pieces on the floor.  Lyndryell went in first and motioned the others to follow.  There was a large stone chair at the far end of the chamber.  "This creature fancied himself quite the King!" Enrico laughed.  "He even had a throne room."  Lyndryell walked over to the chair and pointed at what looked to be a hidden door.  He had found it on an earlier expedition into the cave.  He hadn't tried it because he wanted to make sure everyone was rested before he found out what lay behind.  He pushed on a stone that was slightly raised from the others.  It started to move.  He pushed harder until it went into the wall up to his wrist.  There was a loud groan of some ancient mechanism and a section of the wall started swinging in.  "This must have been built centuries ago by the Dwarves," Garrick said as he walked through the door.  "It looks like its been abandoned for centuries," Enrico added, cleaning the cobwebs off of his cloak in disgust.  Garrick surveyed the room, it was indeed abandoned.  The room even "smelled old" he thought to himself.  It was bare, save some broken furniture, several piles of rusty old weapons littering the floor, and a single door at the far end.  "Obviously the snow creature hadn't found this place."  His thoughts were distracted by the sound of metal clanking against stone.  He looked over and saw Enrico rummaging through the pile of weapons stacked in the corner.  "What are you doing, Enrico?"  He asked incredulously.  "Trying to find another sword."  "Another sword in that pile of junk!" Gilchrist interjected from across the room.  "Well, it's worth a try.  Mine got all beat up when it got stuck in that monster's chest."

He had looked through all of the piles except one and was about to give up when he discerned a small flicker of light at the bottom of the last pile.  "Besides, this looks like it could have been some sort of treasure room at one time.  Eons ago."  He was about at the bottom of the pile when he found the source of the reflecting light.  It was a sword, part of the scabbard was torn away and he could see the glint of steel.  He drew the sword from its scabbard to take a better look at it, and, much to his surprise, it was as shiny as the day it was forged.  The others stared in astonishment.  Enrico marveled at the craftsmanship from the ornate dragon-shaped hilt to the still extremely sharp blade.  "This will do nicely," he said after taking a few practice swings.  "May I see that?" Lyndryell asked.  Enrico handed him the blade and Lyndryell examined it carefully.  "I spent many an afternoon talking to the weaponsmiths of Loren and it is impossible for a weapon to stay so exquisite without proper care."  "Well, it is quite obvious no one has been in this room for a long, long time," Garrick interrupted.  "Exactly!" Lyndryell declared.  "Therefore, what I am saying is that this must be a magical blade of some sort."  "But what does it do?" Enrico questioned.  "There is really no way to tell until you get into battle what it's magical properties are," Lyndryell replied, "we'll just have to wait and see."

They continued on through several more small rooms until they came to a chamber with two large doors.  One was very plain-looking but the other was very ornate.  There were beautiful carvings in the wood with precious stones inlaid on them.  Enrico walked over to the door and ran his hand across the exquisite carvings.  "These gems must be worth a fortune!" he said excitedly using his dagger to try and pry one free.  "They are beautiful," Aenarion agreed as they all moved closer to the door to get a better look.  "But maybe you should check out what is on the other side of this door before you start taking souvenirs."  "All right," Enrico conceded.  He pushed on the door but it didn't budge.  He motioned for the others to help.  Garrick and Gilchrist stood on either side of him and together they pushed as hard as they could.  The door refused to give, but unfortunately, the floor did not.  It collapsed beneath their feet.  Aenarion and Lyndryell vaulted to their aid but it all happened so fast they were dragged down with the rest of them.  The quintet were sent plummeting into the darkness.

"A trap," Aenarion cursed.  He could feel himself falling.  "No, not falling," he thought, "sliding."  He was the last to go down, but he could see the tangle of bodies in front of him as they sped through the blackness.  He was tumbling faster and faster.  It felt as if he would never stop.  Time seemed to stand still as they careened hopelessly out of control, deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain.  Finally, he heard a thump up ahead, followed by a loud assortment of curses.  He braced himself for the bone-jarring landing he knew was sure to come.  He wasn't disappointed.  He came out of the end of a chute and dropped about six feet to the ground squarely into the center of where the other four lay sprawled on the floor.  "I guess that was the wrong door!" Enrico said as he slowly climbed to his feet.  He took a cursory look around, they were in a small room with a single door that was practically rotted off of its hinges.

"How could I have been so foolish!" Aenarion said disgustedly to himself.  "What do you mean Aenarion?" Gilchrist asked.  "That trap, I should have seen it coming."  "You had no idea the floor would collapse," Gilchrist continued.  "No, but it was quite obvious that the door was the wrong one."  "It was?" Enrico said sheepishly.  "Yes!  Tell me something Enrico, if you were a thief..."  "If he were a thief!" Garrick laughed.  "He was trying to pry the gems out of the door."  "I resent that," Enrico countered, shocked that anyone would give such a title to a member of House dé Vangelles.  "Just listen." Aenarion continued ignoring the interruption.  "If you were a thief you would go after the ornate door.  Thus, a perfect place to put a trap for unwanted intruders.  The plain door was the one we should have went through.  It would have led into the main hall of the Dwarves.  I just do not understand how I could have missed that."  "Well, wherever we are, let's try to find a way out" Garrick suggested.  "Aenarion, you mentioned Dwarves and Garrick did also," Gilchrist queried.  "This place looks like it was abandoned centuries ago."  "Yes, it was," Lyndryell explained.  "It was probably abandoned during he war with the Elves many centuries ago, and was forgotten as the Dwarf clans journeyed to the World's Edge Mountains and their brethren."

Garrick looked out the door, the hall led in two directions, one went a short way and dead-ended.  The other disappeared into the blackness.  There were doors lined along either side of the hallway.  It appeared they were in the dungeon of the ancient Dwarven stronghold.  "Let's get moving," Garrick said, motioning the others to follow.  They walked along the corridor, every once in a while peering into one of the small rooms.  In most, there was nothing, but in several they found the remains of some long-forgotten prisoner, a one-time enemy of the Dwarves.  They had continued walking for what seemed like an eternity when the corridor finally ended in a spiral staircase.  Garrick stopped abruptly and turned around.  "Which way?" he asked, motioning toward the staircase.  It went both up and down.  "Down." Aenarion answered, not a hint of doubt in his voice.  "We fell a long way down the cursed slide, but we did not fall all the way to the bottom of the mountain.  So I suggest we go down."

They all agreed it was the best course of action and started down the steps.  They went down further and further, putting one foot in front of the other.  Deeper and deeper into the bowels of the mountain.  Occasionally they would come across another corridor off of the steps, but it was always a dead end.  So down they went, nothing but the endless sound of boots scraping against stone.  Garrick's mind began to wander as he led the ragged band down the unending circle of steps.  He thought about the strange things that were happening to him.  He would never forget the look on Lyndryell's face when he had asked him what happened on the mountainside with the Minotaur and he had said he didn't remember it at all.  It wasn't a look of disgust like he would expect with the blood and guts everywhere but a look of concern, of deep concern as if he thought something were terribly wrong.  "Is something wrong with me?"  He considered the possibility for a moment.  Strange blackouts, the inability to remember details of certain events and the uncanny feeling that at times he was not in total control of his actions, almost like he was sharing his mind with someone else.  What about the scepter, it seemed to bother everyone else but it had no effect on him.  And what about Heinrich Kemmler, what had happened.  "He had looked into my mind and was terrified of what he saw there."  The implications of that thought hit him like one of Aenarion's arrows.  Heinrich Kemmler was a powerful Necromancer.  "Why would he be afraid of me?"  His thoughts were interrupted by a cheerful cry from Enrico that they had finally reached the bottom of the staircase.  There was a single tunnel that led off into the darkness.  They followed it for a long time.  It was not like the other halls above.  This was more of a rough-hewn tunnel.  It meandered a little, but was basically just a long straight passageway and there were no passageways leading off of it.  Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel but much to their dismay, it was a dead end.

"All praise to Khorne the God of Battle" chanted the Shaman.  "All praise to Khorne the God of Battle" the throng of Beastmen repeated.  "He will deliver us from our enemies and we will eat their flesh and drink their blood."  The Shaman looked on in satisfaction as his followers continued chanting the sacred prayer to Khorne.  He was a Beastman as well, but he was imbued with magic.  A gift from the Chaos Gods.  The leader came before him and knelt at his feet.  "You will be blessed by Khorne in the battle to come and your enemies will cower before you."  The Shaman then closed his eyes in prayer.  "Oh mighty Khorne, grant us..."  The Shaman stopped when he heard the sound of stone grinding on stone behind him.  "See, I told you there was probably some sort of hidden do..."  Aenarion's voiced trailed off when he saw the foul mass of Beastmen standing before him.  Vile half-human monstrosities created by the corrupt power of Chaos.  There was no time to do anything but attack.  Aenarion loosed his bow and started firing indiscriminately at the Beastmen nearest the tunnel.

The Shaman howled in fury.  "Infidels!  Destroy them so that Khorne may feast on their souls."  He raised his hands and called upon his master.  He could feel the power of Chaos flowing through his body.  "This is true power," he thought to himself.  "I will teach these defilers a lesson.  I am invincible.  I feel as if I could challenge Khorne himself."  Then, in an instant, it was gone.  The power he had felt just moments earlier was gone.  A torrent of pain flooded through his body.  He looked down at the gaping hole in his chest and watched his lifeblood spill out onto the stone floor.  As death overtook him he cried out.  "Master!  Why have you abandoned me?"  But there was no answer.  Gilchrist lowered his pistol.  "Die you pagan devil," he whispered as he watched the Shaman fall to the floor.  The Beastmen, enraged by the death of their leader overcame their initial surprise and the first wave charged Lyndryell and Garrick, who had just emerged from the tunnel.  But, the unorganized assault was easily cut down by the duo in a blur of arms and steel.  The second wave of attackers rushed in and were quickly overwhelmed as Enrico, Gilchrist, and Aenarion joined in the fighting.  Aenarion picked off the remaining survivor with a well-placed arrow and the companions were alone again, surrounded by the bodies of slain Beastmen and the foul stench of death.

Enrico made his way across the room, stepping over bodies carefully, trying not to trip over any of the disgusting creatures, toward the lone door at the far end of the room.  He peered out into the hallway and motioned to the others that the coast was clear.  They all made their way gingerly across the mass of fallen bodies.  "This must be some sort of a Chaos cult," Gilchrist said as he made his way through the tangled corpses.  "yes," Aenarion agreed pointing to the altar at the far end of the room.  "It looks as if we interrupted a ritual of some sort" Lyndryell interjected.  "But why," he continued with a puzzled look on his face, "would they be here, so deep in the side of the mountain?"  "Who says we are still deep inside the mountain." Gilchrist interrupted.  "In my days back at the Witchhunters Guild we learned that these foul cults could always be found close to populated areas.  Either to carry out raids or to recruit people into their heathen ways."  "The only populated area on this side of the mountain is Loren.  They must be planning a raid against my people" Lyndryell surmised.  "We must move quickly."  The group moved silently down the corridor with their backs pressed against the wall, Lyndryell leading the way.  They ducked into an adjoining tunnel as a small group of Beastmen ran past, clearly in trying to get somewhere quickly.  Lyndryell instinctively followed the Beastmen, being sure to stay in the shadows as he did.  He suspected they would be on their way to the surface and to whatever was happening up there.  The Beastmen disappeared into a connecting tunnel.  Lyndryell crept forward and peered around the corner as he listened intently to the clamor coming from ahead.  His suspicions proved correct.  It was the unmistakable sound of a battle outside.  He retraced his steps back to the others.  "There appears to be fighting outside the cave entrance."  "A battle!" Enrico said, surprised.  "Probably closer to a skirmish," Lyndryell corrected himself.  "My people will be harassing them while they gather an army.  "We must proceed with caution."  He motioned the others to follow.  They made their way down the corridor.  It led to a large cavern.  Lyndryell looked into the room and saw two guards.  Not expecting any trouble from behind, they were quickly dispatched with a couple of well-placed daggers.  Across the room there were two large iron doors locked from the inside.  The sound of fighting was closer now.  "These must be the doors out," Garrick said as he moved the latch and cracked open the door.  "Can you see anything?" Aenarion asked.  "there are at least 25 Beastmen and a handful of Humans in heavy armour."  "Chaos Warriors!" Gilchrist spat in disgust.  "Who are they fighting?" Lyndryell asked impatiently.  "There are a small number of Elves.  They are badly overmatched and there are some archers in the woods."  "We must help my people," Lyndryell stated as he headed for the door."  "Here we go again," Enrico sighed drawing his magical blade from its scabbard.  Garrick hefted his axe over his shoulder.  "Enrico my friend, it couldn't be any other way," he said with a smile and followed Lyndryell through the door.