With
Bryn Mawr’s guidance, Spike led the group out into the main entryway and down
the corridor of the east wing. They
moved as quickly and silently as possible, until they came to a large room at
the end of the wing. They room
opened to double doors, and beneath the layer of dust on the floor they found a
tile mosaic that covered the entire expansive floor.
One end of the room had a raised portion, possibly a stage. Spike led them over to the stage and down a staircase that
was behind the platform.
They descended into a large stone room with a
pedestal in the center. This was
not nearly as large as the stage above them, but it looked the right size to
hold a sarcophagus or coffin.
“It looks like they threw one heck of funeral back in the day.” Mac said. “These lines are counterbalanced with pulleys to raise this stand up to the stage. The room upstairs could have fit a thousand people comfortably.”
“A
thousand people to mourn one person?” Aldarys
mused.
Not uncommon here…the
Dintmoor line was well loved by the people.
The sword told Spike. The
tunnel behind us will lead to the crypt where the digging started.
“If one rules right, then many will mourn their
passing.” Spike said. “There
is a tunnel here that will lead to the crypt.
They ducked into a narrow tunnel that led back to a
small room…an apparent dead end. The
room was 20’ long by 10’ wide and only six feet high, forcing Spike to duck
her head. On both of the room’s
long walls were large metal wheels with chain wound through them that passed
through small holes in the floor and a lever.
“They must not have had too many die in the
Dintmoor dynasty.” Mac quipped as
they quickly filled the room.
Use the wheels to lower the
lift.
Bryn
Mawr told Spike.
“This
room is a lift.” Spike said to
them. “We use these wheels to
lower the room down to the crypt level.”
She indicated the two large wheels with the chain
wound through them. Spike and
Aldarys worked one wheel, while Tragg and Mac took the others.
The chain had rusted over the years, and squeaked horribly when Sonja
used the lever to pull the blocks out of the wheels so that wheels would turn.
The weight of the room helped them to get the wheels moving, yet the
system of pulleys was such that they did not lose control of their descent.
“If no one knew that we was here yet, they surely
know now!” Tragg yelled over the
shrieking of the rusty wheels.
The wheels spun through many revolutions to make the
room descend even a small bit. They
continued their descent through the loud sounds of the wheels, and finally came
to rest at what must have been the bottom of the shaft.
The opposite wall from where they had entered now stood open, revealing
the ancient crypts of the Dintmoor dynasty.
Stone drawers lined the walls, small compartments that housed the dead
kings of the past 2000 years. In
the center of the room stood a crystal statue, barely visible in the black and
white spectrum that the spectacles that they wore gave them.
Beyond that was a hole in the wall, apparently where the mining began
They exited the cramped lift and pulled their
weapons. They could not see anything threatening, so they continued
towards the opening in the wall.
Beware
the guardian!
Bryn Mawr’s warning came hard and loud inside of
Spike’s mind. So much so that it
made her stop.
“The guardian is near!”
She hissed in a whisper.
“What is it?”
Mac asked as the group formed up back to back.
“I do not know, but it nearly wiped out 10 of the
king’s guards. It must be either
big and strong or both.” Spike
answered.
“The smallest spider carries the deadliest
venom.” Sonja interjected.
“Do not jump to conclusions.”
As they moved cautiously towards the opening to the
mine movement in the middle of the room caught their eye.
Mac was the first to react as he saw the crystal statue in the middle of
the room move. He swung down
heavily with his sword, but his weapon bounced off of the statue harmlessly.
“I can’t touch it!”
He shouted to the others, and gave way for the stronger members of the
group to their attacks.
Sonja stepped into Mac’s vacated spot and set her
scimitar spinning in at its accelerated attack.
She landed a good solid blow, breaking away pieces of the statue. The golem replied with a stunning backhand that knocked the
druid back off of her feet. Spike,
not liking the way that the statue sent her friend flying, brought her attack
from the statue’s flank, swinging down heavily with Bryn Mawr. He attack came with such power that it split the statue,
causing it to crumble before them into small shards of glass.
That was for a few good
soldiers that I once knew.
The
sword’s voice lamented in her head.
“Each passing day I rejoice that we did not
actually get in a fight the first night we met.”
Mac said only halfway under his breath.
Not caring what the obnoxious bard had to say, Spike
moved over to Sonja and helped her to stand.
Though knocked about hard again, Sonja had managed to retain her grip on
her weapon.
“That hurt.”
Sonja said as she brushed the dust from the floor off of her.
“How hurt are you?
Is everything intact with your insides?”
Spike asked.
“Yes, I will be fine.
I will just have a bit of a bruise by the end of the day." They refocused on their goal, and started back towards the opening to the mine.
Spike and Aldarys stepped through first, making sure that no surprises
awaited them from the darkness. They
found that the mine spread into two directions from the opening: one heading
north and the other east. The shaft
was only wide enough to walk three abreast.
“Which way do we go?”
Aldarys asked Spike…as if she would know.
“I do not know, I have never been here before.”
Spike answered back sharply.
“I figured that you had the sword, maybe it would
know.” Aldarys explained, cowed by the larger woman’s attitude.
I, too, have never come down
here before. The night I was
trapped in this sword was to be my first and only trip to the mines.
Bryn Mawr explained to her.
“He does not know either.
Make a decision and we will go.” Spike
said to Aldarys.
“I don’t see why the elf gets to make all of the
decisions.” Tragg said testily.
“Others may have good input on which way we should go.”
“First: he is a half-elf, as he said himself.”
Mac said to Tragg. “Second:
let him put his head on the block in case the axe comes down.”
“Good point: let the elf…er…half-elf
choose.” Tragg agreed readily to
Mac’s logic.
“We shall go east, for that has always held good
fortune for me. Besides, I could
never get the hand of north.” Aldarys
said, and they lined up to move through the caverns.
They
decided to walk two abreast, giving themselves room to move in case they came
across something nasty. Aldarys led
with Spike, followed closely by Sonja and Mac.
Tragg trailed the group, more than confident in his skills in case
something attacked them from behind. They
started traveling down the mineshaft when Tragg felt something hit him in the
back of the head.
“Ow!”
He grumbled. He put his hand to the back of his head and felt blood coming
out. “Something hit me!”
He whispered sharply.
He
turned in time to see a female dark elf reload her sling while another female
drow stood next to her and began to chant.
“Drow.”
Tragg growled as he gripped his mace in both hands.
Sonja
said some words unknown to the dwarf and touched his head, stopping his bleeding
and making him feel somewhat
better. Mac
threw one of his daggers at the drow that was chanting and buried the blade into
her throat, stopping her spell and her breath.
She staggered to the ground and did not rise.
Tragg rushed the other drow. He
launched himself into an attack that she ducked. She pulled her mace from dead friend’s belt over her own
mace, and faced the dwarf.
She
swung her mace at the dwarf, which he turned and took her blow on his
breastplate. He answered with a
telling blow on her temple, cracking her skull and letting her bleed out from
the head. He picked up the mace
that she held, and turned it over in his hands.
He then looked at the symbol that hung from her neck on a silver chain:
an onyx spider.
“Acolytes
it seems.” He said as he
stood and faced the group.
“Is
it worth anything?” Mac asked.
“Surface
dwellers won’t buy a symbol of the Drow, and those that would are not to be
associated with.” Sonja said to
him.
“What’s
so special about the mace?” Spike
asked.
“I’m
not sure…she had her own mace, but took the other’s to attack me with.” Tragg said as he studied the mace curiously.
“It has strange markings, probably something dark of Drow nature, but I
will hold onto it just in case I may need a second.”
He put hammer, now slightly bloody, on his belt and held the new
mace ready. “Move on now, the
show’s over.”
They
continued on at their original pace: slow and cautious.
The only sounds that they heard in the caverns were their own footfalls
and the occasional creak of leather or chink of their own armor as they walked.
The black and white spectrum in which the spectacles allowed them to see
seemed a bit confining, but it certainly did enhance their stealth…and they
felt the need for stealth. 300 feet
down the tunnel they came upon a smaller tunnel that led off to the right.
“Do
we take it or not?” Mac asked as
they stood for a couple of awkward moments looking down the tunnel.
“We
do not take it.” Tragg said
decisively. “This offshoot is
merely delving that the miners dug as they looked for gems.
I’m surprised that we have not seen any yet.
I’ll wager a pint of stout ale that t will go back maybe a hundred feed
and stop.”
“Well,
now that you placed a wager on it, I will take you up on it.”
Mac said. “Come on,
Blondie, let’s see if this dwarf knows what he is talking about.”
“We
will not leave their line of sight, agreed?”
Spike asked Mac skeptically.
“If
he is right, then we will not have to leave their sight.”
Mac stated.
“Then
let us see. I do not want to
question every tunnel that we come across.”
Spike said.
The
two of them moved down the tunnel only about 50 feet when they saw it end
abruptly ahead of them…just as the dwarf had said.
“Diablo,
now I’m into the dwarf for a pint.” Mac
swore only slightly under his breath.
“That
will teach you to take a bet with a dwarf when it concerns mining.”
Spike chided him. “Still,
we now know that we will find more of these 'delvings.'
Let us return to the others.”
“Do
we have to return so quickly? Isn’t
it nice here, in the dark, just you and me?”
Mac’s tone turned from frustration to suave.
“This
is hardly the time for such considerations."
Spike said incredulously. "Besides, what I already know of you sickens me.”
Spike retorted as she turned on her heal.
“Come
now, the other night was merely the cheap ale talking.
If I had ponied up for the good stuff we would never have had that little
altercation.” Mac said as she
strode away.
Spike
stopped in her tracks and turned to face Mac.
“Men
cannot hold liquor…good or cheap. You
will have to go a long way to impress me, as I find you to be a drunken, lazy,
repulsive, child of an orc.” She
lit into him.
“Who’s
lazy?” Mac asked.
“I believe that I have pulled my weight here in this little escapade.
I have kept my end of the bargain: I have not had a drink, and I have
taken care of myself. What more do
you want from me? What do I have to
do to impress you?”
“Throwing
yourself you your sword comes to mind.” Spike
countered.
“So
I would have to die needlessly to impress you?
That is not worth a snuggle in the dark with any woman, Blondie. You may have all of the looks of a sparkling diamond, but you
have the warmth of a block of ice.” Mac
moved to walk past her, but she stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Not
die needlessly, but die heroically. Give
your life to save others. Then I
will admire you as you would wish…but nothing will get you a ‘snuggle in the
dark’ from me.” With that she
turned and headed back to the others, with Mac trailing behind her.
“He
owes you, priest.” Spike said as
she rejoined the group a little before Mac.
“It is just as you said: a dead end.”
“There
will be many more, of that I’m sure.” Tragg
said. “None of them will have any
sign of precious mineral. I am
surprised that the king did not seek to consult the dwarves before embarking on
such project.”
He sent word, but Maktar was impatient to begin. We thought it a trifle to begin digging while we waited; Maktar was so certain. Bryn Mawr told Spike. I doubt that our messenger reached the edge of the forest. I am sure that Maktar somehow stopped news from reaching the dwarves.
“They did send for dwarves, but their messenger seems to have failed.” Spike confirmed for Tragg. “Let us continue.”
They
resumed their reconnaissance, finding a delving every hundred feet or so.
They passed two of the smaller tunnels and came upon an opening on their
left hand side. Beyond the opening
lay a large chamber with broken furniture scattered about.
The furniture appeared to have been cots, but the destruction that swept
through the mines twenty years ago spared nothing.
They rummaged through the rubble, and found nothing of value…neither
did they find any clues as to what happened to the miners that worked the mines.
“’Tis
not uncommon for miners to live in their mines…especially among the dwarves,
but we have not seen hide nor hair of them since we came down here. Not even a shard of bone.”
Tragg wondered as he kicked through a pile of junk.
“I
disagree,” Aldarys said. “We
ran into drow already. Are they not
known to enslave surface dwellers in their dark confines?”
“Bah…tales
mother tell children to tuck them into bed at night.”
Mac scoffed. “Most likely
they killed and cooked the miners. Everyone
knows that drow eat human flesh.”
Spike
looked at Mac out of the side of her eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Who is telling tales now, drunkard? I am more inclined to believe that any who survived were
taken below to the Underdark. As
for those that did not survive…”
Her comments were cut short by the sound of scuffling at the entry of the chamber. They turned and saw four zombies heading towards them. Aldarys and Spike were the first to meet the “charge” of the undead. Aldarys made three quick slices into the lead zombie while Spike wasted no time in cleaving the second zombie in line into two pieces with Bryn Mawr.
Tragg
lifted the stone that hung from his neck and commanded the zombies to leave.
Out of the three zombies left, only the lead zombie turned to go.
Aldarys took the opportunity to slash one more time into the zombie,
leaving it twitching on the ground until it stopped moving.
Even
the sight of two of their kind being hacked down with little effort did little
to deter the other two zombies…thus proving
their mindless nature. They continued to advance, focusing their attack on Aldarys
and Spike. Aldarys rushed forward
to attack the leading zombie again, but this time he slipped in the gore of his
last opponent and fumbled with his sword. The
zombie slammed its meaty fist into the side of Aldarys’ head.
Spike turned towards the zombie that now had the upper hand on the half
elf, and knocked it back with her blade. While
she was thus occupied, the second zombie hit her hard in her side, effectively
making her change her tactic.
Sonja
stepped forward and placed her hand on Aldarys’ back, chanting the words for
nature’s natural healing power. Aldarys
quickly recovered himself and faced the zombie that hit him. Tragg, meanwhile, performed the same action for Spike:
chanting words very similar to Sonja’s, but with references to Erin of the
Rock thrown in for effect. Aldarys
put his sword to use, slicing deftly three times, carving out pieces that were
apparently vital to the zombie’s survival.
Spike wasted no more time with the zombie that had the audacity to strike
her, putting her sword deep through the midsection of the zombie, she tore out
its entire left side as she ripped the sword out forcibly.
With
the four zombies down, they looked over the rags that the zombies had used for
clothing. The zombies had once been
human, that much they ascertained, and by the looks of the shredded pantaloons
and tunics, they had all once been dressed in the same manner.
“Either
soldiers or liveried workers.” Aldarys
theorized. “I suggest that we may
have discovered the fate of the miners: a mindless workforce that needed neither
rest nor sustenance. How else could
they have excavated so much in so little time?”
“I
must agree with the half elf.” Tragg
said. “If they were dwarves, they
may have been able to dig such a tunnel in a few months.
Maybe a deep gnome could complete the task as well.
Humans, however, are not suited to such work.”
“So
are you suggesting that human’s are too lazy for the manual labor of the
mines?” Mac asked, speaking out
after being notably absent from the last encounter.
“Mining
is no mere ‘manual labor’ as you put it.”
Tragg said, turning on the human. “Mining
combines strength of arm with a keen knowledge of the earth—“
“Add
to that a bit of luck and you will one day be rich.”
Mac interrupted rudely.
“Ah,
but luck is how you make it, and you can only make luck in mining with hard
work.” Tragg concluded
triumphantly. “Mining is better
suited to prison terms among humans. Leave
the real mining to races that know better.”
“I
know only one thing for certain, and that is that we need some rest.
It has been a trying day…and it is little more than halfway over.”
Sonja said.
“Yes,
let us prepare this place to rest.” Spike
said. “We can take this rubbish
and block the entrance.”
“I
agree.” Aldarys said. “We may run into even worse trials tomorrow, so let us rest
now.”
“We
will block the entrance and set a watch.”
Tragg said as he set his pack down against the wall.
They
set about taking anything that they could use to block the entrance and made a
somewhat flimsy if not effective block to the door.
They piled all else against the barricade and called it good.
They then set about choosing where they would sleep and who would take
the watches.
Sonja
and Spike both chose to stay in one of the farthest corners, away from the
others, so that they could speak somewhat privately.
Tragg, Aldarys, and Mac stayed closer to the center of the cavern to act
as the front line defense in case something broke through the barricade.
“So
what was the yelling about?” Sonja
asked Spike as they found themselves sequestered enough to talk freely.
“That
drunken fool had the nerve to make advances on me in the dark.”
Spike fumed.
“Can
you really blame him?” Sonja
asked, “You are probably more beautiful than any 10 women that he has ever
seen.”
“I
am a princess of the Amazons, and a warrior at that.
I would never deign to stoop so low as to take the first drunken fool
that I meet in a tavern to be my consort. My
people will need a man to look up to, not a fool to laugh at.” Spike explained herself.
“Besides, I gave him the criteria necessary for him to redeem himself
in my eyes. Even if he meets it, I
will be free of any threat that he may pose to me socially.”
“You
can be a hard woman, Spike.” Sonja
accused.
“I
did not choose how I was born, and now every choice that I make will affect how
the world perceives my people. Some
women, my ancestors, have made wrong choices that helped to create a stigma of
the ‘Amazon Women.’ The world
sees us as aloof, man-haters, and ice-cold bi--…well you get the picture.
Sometimes it is easier to use that stigma to my advantage than to fight it.
In the case of MacInavesterson, I will use all that I have to keep him at
bay.”
