Chapter 120:
Anton breathed deep, the fresh air filling his lungs. There wasn’t even a hint of the smell of cities, from this world or Earth, only the strangely sweet smell of grass and trees. A gentle breeze swept through the open grassy plains of the old Kar Kingdom, unimpeded by the small forests or what remained of human civilisation. Many ruined cities, towns and villages dotted their route. Even forts, large wooden and stone constructs, had not been spared by the ravages of time and weather, though they appeared to be in better condition. One day they might rebuild them beyond their original splendour. But, in every ruin, Goblins lurked in the shadows. Dark Elves kept a watchful eye on the shadows, the Goblins weren’t willing to attack, content to hide in their ruins. Anton didn’t know if they understood how strong they were but these were Green and Yellow Goblins, cowards at best. If it was just three or four people they might have tried something but not almost a hundred.
A humming to his side drew Anton out of enjoying the open scenery. Verona hummed her wordless tune, her head bobbing from side to side while she stared at the clear blue sky. Her shoulder-length silver braided hair stuck out from underneath her helmet, swinging wildly with every sway. Though it was a shame to hide such beautiful hair the alternative was far worse. The Dark Elves had told many stories how distracting loose strands of hair had cost them a fight. But theirs weren’t to the death.
“What are you looking at?” Verona asked, her voice sweet and teasing.
“Your hair.” Anton smiled. “I just like looking at it. The way it bounces and sways as you move.”
Verona laughed. “That’s really weird. But I probably need to get it cut soon.” A black gloved hand twirled with the end. “Otherwise I’ll whip myself in the face. Kal too. Hers is even longer…What about Cetina?”
Kal and Cetina rode at the front of their small convoy. Anton saw them talking. What a Half-breed Feline Beast-kin and a Bebbezzarian could discuss so amicably he didn’t know. They appeared to be having a good time so Anton wasn’t worried.
“Not for a while,” Anton replied. “I think she likes to keep it short. Good for fighting in melee. Nothing to grab hold of. Speaking of…Umikgruid?”
“Yes?”
Umikgruid sat on the second Ix drawn cart, just a few meters ahead of Anton and Verona. There wasn’t much in the way of room for the Dwarves, it reminded Anton of sardines jammed into cans but their closeness didn’t appear to worry them. The rocking of the cart wasn’t doing them much good.
“Since you have your beards outside of your armour aren’t you worried that someone will grab it in a fight?”
Umikgruid laughed, the other male Dwarves laughed as well. Anton felt a strange feeling, perhaps of slight embarrassment, creep up his face as he waited in silence.
“No!” Umikgruid laughed again. “If they did it would only mean they’re close enough to hit with our axes right in their faces.” He stroked his beard. “I won’t deny that it hurts when someone pulls on it though.”
“Just a thought.” Anton looked to the Dark Elves jogging either side of the carts. “I don’t think the Dark Elves would let anyone even get that close.”
Umikgruid nodded. “If they do they’re going to find out how fast those Brown Ears can swing those blades.”
“Brown ears?”
“Hush.” Goshala snapped at Umikgruid. “You know that’s a terrible thing to say.”
“But it’s true.” Umikgruid shrugged. “They have brown ears…So…”
Gosthilda sighed and shook her head. Anton didn’t see any change in the Dark Elves. Was it some sort of slur against them? If it was it sounded pretty soft.
“Balefire Mine…” Anton pulled out the map, scratching the docile and dozing Luna on the way. “Should, if that’s this forest to the south, then it should be over that ridge.”
They were already beginning the ascent of the modest ridge, Kal and Cetina had almost reached the peak. Thankfully the incline wasn’t too great and the Ix were not struggling. Throughout their journey, the beasts had only tired at the end of the day and were fit and ready the next.
“If we do find this Mine of yours.” Umikgruid began. “What are you going to do?”
“Yeah…” Verona mumbled. “You said that you’d play it by ear. But when they see Kal…”
“Right now they’re so far away that it’d be impossible to tell if Kal’s a Beast-kin.” Anton looked ahead. “Though it’s going to be hard to deny a tail swishing through the air.”
“True.” Verona laughed. She looked down to a pack by her leg. Compared to the others it was on the verge of bursting.
Verona had been acting oddly the last few nights. Normally she wasn’t secretive in any sense, strutting naked in their bedroom gave her no shame, but now she wouldn’t let him anywhere near it. She hid on the opposite side of a cart for hours while she did something. Every so often he would hear a swear or an unintelligible curse but never a call for help. Even Kal had no idea what she was doing, nor did anyone else. In order to satisfy his curiosity, he carefully checked it one night. Brightly coloured feathers, the same from the Rainbow Birds, burst out. It took nearly a minute to ensure there wasn’t any evidence. He couldn’t make sense of it nor ask Verona what she was doing in fear of revealing that he had looked.
I wonder what you’re making. I didn’t think you had any crafting skills. Are you getting help from the Dark Elves or the Dwarves? But you don’t want our help so you don’t want us to know…
Anton tore his eyes away from the overstuffed pack before Verona noticed. She smiled as Anton played with Luna’s white head. She, as Kal had discovered before leaving Atros, could now eat grass. However, it wasn’t much at a time and had to be supplemented by milk but it was a start. Anton wondered when she’d be able to fly. Her wings had not changed, but she was only a month old at most.
A sharp whistle from the front stopped the convoy. Kal waved them forward as Cetina drew her sword. Anton knew there was only a slim chance that Balefire Mine would still be in one piece but he still held some hope. He and Verona rode to the front as the convoy bunched together, the Dark Elves at the front slunk towards the top of the ridge while the others formed a perimeter. The Dwarves appeared unperturbed but their hands moved to their weapons.
When Anton neared the ridge he noticed that Kal’s mask still hung upon her waist. There clearly wasn’t a need for it, nor to hide her long tail. Balefire Mine was nothing like anything he’d seen. An open cut mine, larger than Atros, lay in the middle of an open flat grassland. Despite the primitive mining technology the bottom was completely obscured. Something glinted in the stone, silver veins ran like water as far as he could see. If it was truly silver or any precious metal, this single mine could fund Atros for decades, perhaps even longer. A large wooden wall, rotting and decayed, ran around the mine and a small town to the side, a mining camp. However, his feelings dropped when he saw the town. While it had survived, as ruins could be called surviving, it was crawling with life. Initially he thought it was Goblins, something endemic to the Kar Kingdom, but they were the wrong colour. Small grey humanoids, hunched over slightly with white sunken eyes, sharp claws and loose skin crawled through the ruins.
“Ghlotsm,” Anton mumbled. “I didn’t know they were in the old Kar Kingdom.”
“I didn’t see them on my way to Atros.” Kal smiled at him. “But I was only travelling to the north of the road we took to Graterious.”
“I thought we’d seen enough of them.” Anton sighed. “Guess that they made it here before the chasm sprung up.”
“Ugh.” Cetina shook her head. “These things.”
“But they weren’t that tough for you.” Verona smiled.
“I remember you bashing those things to death.” Anton chuckled. “Though it was more just them throwing themselves at your shield.”
Cetina smiled bitterly. Though the battle had been quite intense it marked the high point of her relationship with her father. And everything only nosedived after that.
“How many are we talking?” Anton asked.
“Hang on.” Kal scrunched her eyes tight. She spoke an eye enchantment prayer and stared at the city. “I count nine hundred. Probably over a thousand…Last time I thought I had the right numbers. And then they started pouring out of the ground.”
“Ghlotsm can’t dig,” Cetina said. “At least I don’t think they can. They might take advantage of caves or pits in the ground-”
“Or a ruined city,” Verona added.
“I never found out but do the Ghlotsm lay eggs or have live births?” Anton asked. “When we got to Porswea we had a lot more things to worry about.”
“I don’t know,” Cetina replied flatly.
“They do,” Kal said. She pulled lightly on the reins and her horse took a step back. “Oh my-!”
Kal scrunched her eyes tight and coughed, her ears pulled back as she continued to groan. “Could someone please grab the reins?”
Anton and Verona reached out and steadied her horse. Only when her horse stood completely still did Kal reopen her eyes. Her mocha skin lost some of its lustre and a green tinge grew on her cheeks.
“By Tethra! Everything just started spinning.” Kal mumbled, wiping away a thin piece of drool escaping her lips. “I was almost sick.”
“I’m sure your horse would have hated that.” Verona chuckled.
“Yeah…” Kal scrunched her eyes as she mumbled as she cancelled the prayer. “I can see why Anton doesn’t want to move while he’s using it. Okay. Do you see that big building in the middle of the town?”
A very tall wooden building, still relatively intact, lay in the centre of the mining town. However, it wasn’t the centre of the Ghlotsm activity. They were more active in a ring around it, moving near smaller homes that had been damaged by fire and general neglect.
“Seems like it’s the only building really in one piece,” Anton said.
“Yes. Now, look towards the mine. Near those buildings on the edge, you’ll see it.”
White dots surrounded the perimeter of the mine, each surrounded by a thick grey material. With a quick mental eye enhancement prayer it became clear, literally and figuratively. Eggs, thousands upon thousands, littered the edge of the mine. Some even extended onto the rock face, built into small cracks and level areas. Why they simply hadn’t laid their eggs towards the town and away from the possibility of a drop Anton didn’t know. Perhaps they were good climbers.
“Right…” Anton sighed, cancelling the enhancement. He turned to Verona and Cetina. “Eggs. Thousands of them. I thought they might have laid eggs but not this many.”
“Why did you think that?” Verona tilted her head. She turned to the mine, raising a hand to her brow to block out the sun.
“Because they don’t have any nipples.” All three chuckled at his words. Anton smiled faintly. “I’m serious though. The vast majority of animals that give birth to live young, like humans…and most Beast-kin, also lactate milk for their young. Since I didn’t see that I presumed they laid eggs. It wasn’t much to go off of but it appeared to be correct. But I wasn’t ready for the number that they’ve got down there.”
“It seems strange to leave them out in the open,” Anton mumbled. “Where the weather and predators can get to them. Maybe they just to warm them up during the day? Who knows? But I don’t really want to find out.”
“So are we going in or around?” Verona asked.
“What’s happening?” A mature woman asked from behind.
Ceccitol and Tuccac approached. They skulked through the short grass, even though their horses were far taller and more visible.
“Ghlotsm?” Tuccac asked. “Disgusting little creatures.”
“They look horrible,” Ceccitol mumbled.
“They are horrible,” Cetina mumbled. “Though they don’t craft weapons like the Goblins-”
“Or the Kobolds,” Verona added softly.
“Their claws are incredibly sharp. Sharp enough to go through leather and cloth with ease.”
“That Bandit Hunter wouldn’t have seen the morning if it weren’t for you,” Verona smirked at Anton.
“Wouldn’t have the opportunity to chase some more women either.”
Verona chuckled while Kal sighed, shaking her head. Ceccitol and Tuccac didn’t understand fully so waited patiently.
“So do we-”
“What’s happening?” Umikgruid shouted from the cart. He hadn’t left it, even though the Dwarves had created a rudimentary ladder.
“Ghlotsm,” Verona shouted back.
Anton checked Balefire Mine. The gentle rustling of the grass appeared more than enough to cover their voices.
“Everyone. Please don’t shout.” Anton spoke forcefully. “We don’t know how good their hearing is.”
“Their sense of smell is their only strong point,” Cetina said. She looked to the grass at her feet. “And it looks like it’s blowing parallel to the mine. We shouldn’t have any problem. At least until it changes.”
Umikgruid stood next to his horse. “So…That’s a lot of them. Even from here. So, human. And Beast-kin. What are we going to do?”
“I would like to know more about the people that managed to survive the initial collapse of the Kar Kingdom.” Anton began. “But it cannot jeopardize our current mission.”
“I love it when he uses big words like that,” Verona whispered to Kal, who merely smiled in return.
“So we’ll need to come back at a later date to deal with them properly. Unless someone knows how fast these things actually breed…Their hide is a lot stronger than the Goblins…What do you think?”
“They don’t even have archers,” Verona said. “Or even slings. Or javelins…All they have is claws.”
“I don’t know which is a greater threat to Atros.” Anton folded his arms. “At least we know how to deal with the Goblins. And they don’t have the partial immunity to magic like the Ghlotsm.”
“I think we should take them out,” Verona said. Kal and Cetina nodded in agreement. “Goblins aren’t immune to magic.”
“When the rest of us Dwarves arrive they shouldn’t be a problem.” Umikgruid buffed out his barrel of a chest. “But I can see what you’re saying. Are there enough of us?”
Verona smiled wildly. “I could probably deal with this many.” Her smile faded. “Though I remember that they resisted my blood shards…This could actually be tricky.”
“I think we should pass them by,” Ceccitol said. “There are simply too many for us, for us to deal with quickly and safely. And…We would like to get back to the Shadow Isles as soon as possible. I know that it might seem callous to imply that we don’t care about-”
Kal’s ears pricked up. She looked to the south and furiously tapped Anton’s shoulder. “Get back!” She hissed. “Get back from the ridge.”
No one questioned the senses of a feline Beast-kin. Anton dismounted his horse, so too did the girls, and beckoned the horses to lie down. The beasts had rudimentary training and followed without protest. If anything they seemed happy to have a decent rest.
“What’s happening?” Anton asked, creeping low to the ridge.
“To the south.” Kal nodded. “Lots of them.”
“Them?”
Anton rested his head over the top and turned to the south. Sparse forests dotted the otherwise open grasslands. Several herds of Razor-Pigs, even a flock of Rainbow Birds ran in the distance. But Kal’s eyes were not drawn to something else. A small brown mass trudged along the dry green grass, hundreds of individuals moving as a group. Anton sighed, resting his head onto the ground with a thud.
Goblins. The eternal threat.
But these were not normal. Crude wooden armour covered their soft hide and held stone-tipped spears. Spears weren’t something unusual, nor was the wooden armour, the Goblins that attacked Atros had archers wielding crude self-made bows, javelins and simple armour. The uniformity caught his attention. Though it was of comparatively poor quality compared to theirs it was leagues above their standard attire and armaments. The rough marching formation made Anton feel very uneasy.
“I only just saw them,” Kal said.
“There’s got to be a thousand,” Verona grumbled. A smirk grew. “They’d be easier to deal with than the Ghlotsm. How would your arrows work against that?”
Kal shrugged lightly. “I don’t know what sort of wood they’ve used but it’ll be a few for each. The wood will take a few arrows or bolts before it smashes.”
Anton sighed. “And there goes our main advantage over them. I don’t think that wood’s going to break on the first swing of a sword or axe. More than enough time to get one of those spears into our throats.”
“We’d be able to hit them through the holes in their helmets,” Ceccitol spoke softly. “But…There are too many of them.”
“Far too many,” Umikgruid grumbled. “So what’s the plan now? Seems like this dead Kingdom is anything but dead and lifeless.”
Anton tapped his fingers on the grass, dry blades crunching lightly underneath his touch. “It doesn’t look like they’re coming for us.”
Kal shook her head. “No. But I didn’t want them to see us, just in case.”
“A good call. I think that we and see what they do. I don’t think the Goblins and Ghlotsm are friends, though I haven’t seen them together before.”
“I don’t think they’re friendly,” Cetina said. “If they were huge parts of Graterious would be over-run.”
“At least they keep each other in check.” Anton chuckled. He offered his bare hand to Verona. “Better be ready, just in case.”
After Verona took his blood they waited in silence. Anton counted eight hundred and ten goblins. Again the exact number niggled at the back of his mind. There was surely the chance of coincidence but for a force so chaotic it seemed unlikely. What was even more unlikely were the ten Black Goblins at the front, acting as officers and maintaining their formation. These wore better wooden armour, rusted metal straps randomly bolted on for extra strength as well as crude iron swords and iron wrapped wooden shields. Again they wouldn’t be too much of a threat against properly armed and trained Atros villager but their very existence was disturbing.
“It’s like they’re being armed,” Anton mumbled. Verona and Kal looked at him. “Professionally. There’s no way this isn’t planned. I can’t see one of those Awakened in there…Which makes it even worse.”
“I don’t really see how it could be worse,” Verona replied. “Almost a thousand Goblins attacking a city? Even if it’s one overrun by Ghlotsm.”
“It’s not just that…But, why are they here? Why do they want Balefire Mine?”
“Somewhere to build a nest?” Kal suggested. “They usually build in ruins, the depths of forests or caves. Balefire mine has two of those.”
“I suppose. But it still seems wrong.” Anton looked at Umikgruid, attempting to lie prone but unable to due to his rotund body. “We might want some of the Dwarves ballistae soon.”
Umikgruid raised a bushy brow but didn’t ask.
The Goblins continued their steady approach, unaware that they were under observation. The Black Goblins shouted at the Yellows and Greens and the small army began to spread out. Anton was surprised to see over a hundred of the Goblins had bows. They were nothing like Kal’s or the Dark Elves bows but they could still fire an arrow, probably. Atros had suffered against their crude arrows during the first month of Anton’s arrival. The Goblin archers remained behind the others as they advanced in two distinct rows.
“This is bad,” Kal whispered. “What if the Goblins attacking Atros, when we came back, were like this?”
“Then we might be rebuilding. With only three humans.” Anton mumbled. Kal winced as she looked back to the Goblins.
Several Ghlotsm near the walls finally noticed the Goblins. Their sunken white eyes widened, their bodies tensed. A strange screech, a quick and looping rhythm reverberated through, echoing through the buildings of Balefire Mine. A Black Goblin stopped his Goblins and the rest followed. A grey tide poured from the ruined buildings, hundreds of Ghlotsm ran towards the assembled Goblins. The disorder of the Ghlotsm far outweighed anything he had seen from the Goblins. They simply charged straight towards them, mindless savages, without a care for their fellows or for any sort of strategy.
Exactly how they attacked us too. They waited until they thought they could surround and overwhelm us, but we attacked first and they just flung themselves into the fray. Though they were on the offensive that time. Now that something threatens their nest there’s even less room in their heads for thinking? Only defend the nest.
A Black Goblin at the rear screeched and the archers fired. Though their bows were crude and their arrows bent and gnarled, they flew straight. The sheer mass of the charging Ghlotsm countered their poor aiming and equipment. Arrows sunk into the loose grey hide of the Ghlotsm, but unlike the Goblins, who would likely be felled by such an attack, many kept going. Those struck in the head fell instantly and were trampled into the dry grass. The arrows that didn’t kill instantly only served to annoy, ripped free from their loose folds of rough skin.
Black Goblins screeched ever louder as the Ghlotsm neared before retreating to the lines of Yellows and Greens. They lacked the confidence of their higher-ranked counterparts, unsurprising considering their designation as fodder. The first Ghlotsm, its arms outstretched in a hideous parody of a hug, reached the Goblin line to receive a flurry of stone-tipped spears. Though their hide was comparatively tough it was no match for sharpened stone. The first Ghlotsm fell, not to be the last, but their sheer weight proved too much. Crawling over their dead fellows and leaping into the Goblin ranks, their spears slick red with the blood, fear and panic spread. Archers continued firing but it was not enough. The Goblins broke as bloodied pieces of wooden armour flew into the air. Screeches and roars came from the Black Goblins, throwing themselves into the thickest fighting and cleaving the Ghlotsm apart before falling to their rage. The Goblins were simply overwhelmed by the ferocity of the Ghlotsm assault even with near equal numbers. Those at the rear began to retreat but they too were overwhelmed and cut down to the last. A minute later and the battle was over.
Verona whistled triumphantly. “That was really, really fast. Though, if you think about it, it probably felt the same for those Goblins attacking Atros. They were getting over the wall, slowly, and then bam. We turn up and everything goes wrong for them. Just like those idiots.”
“Yeah. But now the Ghlotsm are all but finished.” Anton noted. “There can’t be more than a hundred that can still move. Banzai charges are effective but it seriously saps your side’s strength.”
“I’m guessing that’s some sort of suicide attack?” Kal rolled her hand. “Anyway, it worked.”
“The Ghlotsm will probably keep quiet until those eggs hatch.” Anton stood up, brushing the dry grass from his clothes. “If they got the chance that is.”
“Do you mean to attack?” Ceccitol asked, worry creasing her smooth brown face.
“Yes. We can easily take the mine. Not forever, of course. I just want to see if there are anything left behind. If they’re going to be anywhere they’ll be in that big building. That looks like our best bet. There’s also something about those Goblins that’s bugging me. I want to get a better look, and I can only do that if the Ghlotsm are gone. And…” Anton made sure Umikgruid was listening too. “And I would like to see how both of your sides fight.”
“You doubt us?” Umikgruid folded his arms defiantly.
Anton waved his hands. “Absolutely not. I still want to see how you fight. Since I’ll be doing a lot of fighting in the future I want to know what I’ll have on my side.”
“Alright then.” Umikgruid twirled an axe in his hands. “’Bout time we got to have a fight. Even if it against these little runts.”
“Perhaps my warriors have become dulled too.” Ceccitol readied her bow. A deft hand ran along the string checking for any signs of weakness. “After the Green Goblins in the Accursed Forest we haven’t had much to fight. Nothing to test our blades and bows against. Perhaps we have become sloppy.” She turned to Tuccac. “This might be a good chance to show them what we are capable of.”
---[]---
The Ghlotsm completely abandoned the field as they advanced on Balefire Mine. Blue Crows began to descend and pick at the corpses, squawking happily as the feasted on the dead. The birds fluttered away when they approached, only to move to a body several meters away to continue their feast.
Dwarves formed a sturdy and resolute line, axes and crossbows at the ready. Behind, and above, stood the Dark Elves, Each had their bow ready and nocked. Ten Dark Elves remained with the carts, just behind their main force keeping a close watch behind. Though Anton could teleport back to Atros he’d prefer not to.
“Is everyone ready?” Anton asked.
“Ready.”
Kal stood with the Dark Elves, everyone’s bows knocked and ready. Some looked with thinly veiled derision, that a Beast-kin would think to be an archer comparable to them. Anton knew that were about to be pleasantly surprised. Verona and Cetina waited with Anton on their horses, Verona holding onto the reins of Kal’s horse.
“Get ready.”
Anton summoned a small lightning bomb and threw it towards Balefire Mines walls. The explosion reverberated through the air and wooden buildings. A second passed before a wounded Ghlotsm emerged to investigate the sound. Its sunken white eyes took a moment to register their presence, it craned its head up and screeched its quick looping rhythm call, before running towards them. This Ghlotsm lacked several fingers and had deep cuts along its loose skin. Ceccitol loosed her arrow, striking the Ghlotsm between the eyes. The creature fell limp, inertia carried its body along the dry trodden grass. Ceccitol silently readied her next arrow.
Ghlotsm screeching grew throughout the mine but nowhere near as strong. Several dozen appeared, all wounded to some degree, and ran towards them with sharp claws outstretched to strike. The Dark Elves and Kal loosed their bows simultaneously felling the targets. Those that had held derision towards Kal soon washed away, she was as good an archer as they were.
“Is that it?” Verona asked. Before Anton could reply the screeching grew again. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
The same number of Ghlotsm emerged, even more wounded than the first wave. Ceccitol looked back at Anton.
“Umikgruid. I want to see how the Dwarves fight.”
The Dwarf laughed as they readied their axes. “We’ll show you humans and elves how real Dwarves fight.”
These Ghlotsm were slower than the others but Anton held no doubt their claws would be just as dangerous. Umikgruid waited until the last minute before swinging his axe, cleaving through Ghlotsm’s jaw and splitting the head in two. Another Ghlotsm managed to get a swing of its sharp claws into his arms. Rot covered claws found purchase but could not puncture through their chain mail and padded armour. Its face contorted in brief confusion before Umikgruid threw it away with a shunt of his shoulder. As it fell back the creature looked broken, more so than before, its arms flailed as its ugly face was contorted in pain. Umikgruid didn’t pursue and struck the next attacking creature. The entire Dwarven line followed Umikgruid’s lead; the Dwarves stepped forward at the last moment, stepping underneath their opponents and striking hard. Before the next opponent could attack they retreated to their initial line. The few female Dwarves loosed their crossbows, the heavy bolts didn’t have the same grace as the Dark Elven arrows but struck harder. However, it took longer to reload a crossbow than a bow. Nevertheless, they put up an impressive volley. The Ghlotsm were wiped out in quick order.
When Umikgruid was certain they were safe he turned and smiled at Anton, his once magnificent beard stained red with blood.
“There. How about that, Anton?”
“Truly impressive.” Anton smiled warmly. “Very impressive. Though, given what I’ve just seen Ceccitol, I worry that I might not be enough to help you defeat the Goblins.”
Ceccitol chuckled. “I don’t think so. The ease of which you were able to summon a lightning bomb of such size gives me confidence. You said that you could use types of magic greater than that?”
Anton nodded. “Those are just the easiest.”
“Some of the warriors in the Shadow Isles can also use magic. But nowhere near as large, at least not without some time to prepare it.”
If we don’t get the magic books from Ferula in Koumore than the Dark Elves are going to be our next best bet. We won’t be getting to the Graterious Royal Academy anytime soon.
“Let’s just see if that’s everyone.”
Anton threw another lightning bomb. They waited but nothing emerged.
“I think they’re done. At least for now.” Anton said. “I don’t want to check over every little corner of the mine. Just the main building, see what we can find, and then continue with our journey. As you said, we can’t afford to waste any time.”
The Dark Elves looked a little relieved. Everyone retreated to the carts, the dwarves took their seats with crossbows at the ready, and the Dark Elves reformed the perimeter. Anton signalled to the drivers to advance. The streets were over-run with grass and weeds, the once well-trodden cobblestone overgrow and upturned as the slow but implacable growth of vegetation marched forward. Vines draped over the ruined buildings, figs took root in the rooves and had pushed several buildings apart. The inside of the rotten wooden walls were filled with them. A small fluttered down and began to peck at a tiny blue fruit. While it was eating it raised its tail and relieved itself. The small white streak ran down the wood, Anton saw a small red seed nestle itself in a large splinter.
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“Once people leave it’s not long before nature takes over,” Anton said aloud. “More so here, where there isn’t any concrete.”
Verona followed his sight but didn’t understand his words.
Pieces of ruined barricades littered the streets, rusted arrowheads and spear tips trodden into the muddy road. Small bones, far smaller than a humans’, lay nearby. Probably Ghlotsm bones.
What do they eat anyway? Do they eat grass like the Goblins? If they do we’re in for a real fight when they breed up.
After moving the old barricades they reached the central building of Balefire Mine. While it was only two stories tall it was by far the biggest, bigger than anything in Atros. A set of iron tracks came out of the mine before disappearing into the building. These too were rusted by age and neglect. He couldn’t see any mine carts resting on the flat section. They may be still in the mine or inside the building.
This place was a very big operation. Not surprising considering when there’s that much silver just pouring out of the wall…
“Hold up,” Anton said. The convoy stopped and everyone went to full alert, several of the Dark Elves aimed their bows at the open entrance to the main building.
“What’s wrong?” Kal asked. “I can’t hear anything.”
“It’s…We’ll check the Goblins on the way out. Not before.”
Everyone looked at Anton before moving forward.
Goblins couldn’t want the silver. Surely? But what if they do…
Wooden windows had been broken and smashed open and giant holes ripped throughout the lower levels of the wall. Anton dismounted from his horse and cautiously approached the main door. His eyes were drawn to the edges of holes in the wood. There were claw marks, very old and weathered, which matched those of the Goblins. Not Ghlotsm.
“Guess the Ghlotsm were latecomers.” Anton said. “They must have wanted this place for a nest, rather than the abundance of silver.”
“Not surprising.” Umikgruid nodded at the other side of the doorway. “Look at this.”
A strange faded circular red mark had been painted onto the wall. Anton didn’t recognise it but he felt something leaking from it, weaker than the gentle breeze brushing against his face but something was there.
“What is it?” Kal asked. “My fur feels itchy…”
“Isn’t that what happened last time?” Verona raised a brow.
“No. Not…Them. A thousand knives were being driven underneath my fur. This just feels like-”
“A tiny itch everywhere?” Anton asked.
Kal nodded.
“I can’t feel anything,” Verona said. Cetina shrugged lightly.
“It’s a ward,” Ceccitol said. “A very old one at that. Designed to repel Goblins.” The red marks disintegrated at the lightest. “Looks like it hasn’t been reinvigorated in some time.”
“Must have just been holding on.” Umikgruid stroked his beard. “But I haven’t seen one like this before.”
“Me neither,” Ceccitol said. “But it does look familiar.”
“If it’s a ward it didn’t work that well.” Anton looked to the broken walls.
“Wards only keep them away if they’re wandering about, not alerted to something.” Ceccitol began. “If they get riled up they’d just ignore it. And if it’s the wrong creature then it won’t work…”
Kal felt the Demons arriving. So why me this time as well?
“Tell me, do the Dark Elves have wards that keep away the Goblins? If so how did the Green Moon Clan fall?”
“We do,” Tuccac said. “But, as Ceccitol said, they’re useless once the Goblins are riled up and angry.”
“Or if they’re directed by an Awakened.” Anton mused. “No wonder they didn’t realise what was really happening until it was too late.”
“So can we make these?” Verona asked. “Hang them off the walls or paint them on rocks outside Atros?” Verona sniggered at Aton. “I know how you love your stones.”
Ceccitol nodded. “We could. But no one here knows how. Or what to even use.”
“Same.” Umikgruid chuckled. “Though I know that ours will be far stronger than anything the Dark Elves could make.”
“Except it would take a whole season just to make one.” Ceccitol sniggered at the Dwarf. “If you bothered to rush.”
They glared at each other before their expressions softened. Anton didn’t understand how much was friendly banter, best to stay out of it.
“I want ten Dark Elves to wait here with the carts,” Anton ordered. “The rest of us will head inside, do a quick check over the building and see what we can find.”
Weapons were readied as they gingerly stepped inside. Verona held the blood shards over her head attracting significant attention. Apparently, a Blood Berserker of her power and control was all but unheard of. Metal tracks ran to the far side before looping back to the mine. Rusted mine carts rested on the tracks. The wheels had rusted solid, they likely couldn’t move. Each overflowed with rocks shining with seams of silver. Anton’s first instinct was to rush towards them but held himself back. Hasty decisions would lead to death.
Mining equipment littered the rest of the building, mainly iron picks and shovels. The Ghlotsm didn’t concern themselves with such things, their claws and ferocity were more than enough to take down most aggressors.
A rotten wooden staircase led to the second. A few holes, rotten beams hanging low opened in the ceiling. The leg of a desk hung precariously through one, but the holes looked natural compared to deliberate action.
“Not much down here.” Anton nodded to the carts. “That silver would be nice.”
“Send it back to Atros?” Verona raised a brow. “I know we can’t exactly take it with us.”
“Cetina? How much does raw silver go for in gold coins?”
“I…Don’t know. But if it’s good quality, no impurities, it should be a lot.”
“Then this could be the place that we use to free the Beast-kin from Seocuria.” Kal’s tail swished happily, the Dwarves and Dark Elves noticed and smiled. “Though I’m sure they won’t like working in a mine.”
Kal chuckled. “So long as you aren’t beating them, Anton, I know they’ll do it. Doubly so when they know where the money’s going.”
“Before we do that let’s check upstairs.”
Kal took a step forward but Anton gently held her hand. She understood he didn’t want her to go.
“Ceccitol. Could you send some Dark Elves up there? Make sure that they keep a very light touch, we don’t know how weak it is up there.”
Ceccitol pointed to four Dark Elves. “And if they find anything up there?”
“If it’s hostile, kill it. But be careful of the floor.”
Four Dark Elves nodded, drew their bows, and slinked across the floor. Their boots barely elicited a sound moving across the rotten wooden floor. He understood Kal’s complaining about their noise. As they crept up the stairs Anton noted how little armour they wore on their heads. A simple band with an iron band. While it wouldn’t impede their senses they were very vulnerable to strikes and hits. He trusted their judgement but wondered if it contributed to their poor state on the Shadow Isles. The elves disappeared from sight. A bow loosed and Anton’s muscles tensed. Something slumped down but it was only one. A Dark Elf returned and waved them up. Anton signalled for some Dwarves and Dark Elves to wait near the door, they followed his orders even if he wasn’t their leader.
“My Lady.” The Dark Elf woman spoke softly, yet with a certain clarity to her voice. “We found only one Ghlotsm. It appeared wounded, so we removed the threat.”
“Removed the threat.” Verona chuckled.
“What’s up there?”
“A lot of desks. Books. And a few other things.” The woman shrugged. “Doesn’t look to be much of value.”
“Information is value,” Anton said. “We’ll take a look.”
The second floor looked like a crime scene after an explosion. Everything was overturned and thrown about, books and stationery items lay scattered over the floor. The Dark Elf was right. There didn’t appear to be much of any value. Nevertheless, this was where the Kar Kingdom noble fled alongside a mage. Anton was curious to find out what happened to them.
“Who can read?” Anton asked.
Kal’s hand shot up, Verona and Cetina looked away. Ceccitol and Umikgruid raised their hands while the four Dark Elves followed Verona and Cetina’s look.
Guess reading comprehension isn’t good anywhere in this world. I wonder how the other Dwarves perform.
“Okay. I don’t really know what I’m looking for, but anything to do with what happened her would be good.”
Most books were rotten, disintegrating upon the first touch, and any writing had faded along with it. Kal stayed close but appeared just as frustrated they couldn’t find anything useful. Verona and Cetina rummaged through the desks, at Verona’s behest. They found trinkets and items but nothing much of value. Anton’s attention was finally drawn to the far end of the second story. A large table, ornate and in the best condition of those present, sat before a large broken glass window.
“That’s where I’d be if I were the boss,” Anton said. “Let’s see…”
He gingerly stepped around the holes, Kal kept a hold of his hand as she scanned the floor for weaknesses. The table had several draws. Locked, even after all this time.
“The Ghlotsm wouldn’t care to rummage through this.” Anton mussed.
“That means the Goblins weren’t here for long.” Kal looked out the window. “Before the Ghlotsm took over.”
Anton looked into the mine. From this vantage point, it was even more magnificent and impressive. The mine travelled far deeper than he first thought. The true bottom was completely obscured from sight. The mine had been dug in a spiral to allow the twin rails, broken in some sections, to reach the bottom.
“Why did they go so far down?” Anton mused.
“What’s wrong?”
“If this is a silver mine, why not just expand the mine outwards rather than downwards? It’s a lot easier to do that…The only reason I can think of is that they found something more valuable than silver at the bottom.”
“Gold?” Kal scratched her chin with a single gloved finger. “Maybe some of those rare metals. Chelium, Bosciycium or Adamantium? They’d definitely want that for weapons and armour.”
“Yes. Just another thought.” Anton turned to the desk. “I think that this place might be more valuable than we first thought. Definitely need another portal and get this place up and running. But not before we have thousands more Beast-kin.”
“Right.” Kal knelt beside the draws. “Do you want me to use my magic to open the lock?”
“Sure.”
Anton remembered Cetina’s small Ghlyirl box. They had not found a key, not that they had been looking for it, and still had no idea why Duran had died trying to stop Eluria and Sancha getting their hands on it. The Dwarves might know how to open it.
Kal opened the lock with her magic. A soft metallic thunk emanated from the drawer. Inside lay fountain dip pens, something they could actually use, and a wax stamp. On the bottom lay the eight-pointed crown of the Kar kingdom, the same mark present on all their coins.
I wonder if anyone’s wondering where we got the gold? Once they realise it’s real I don’t think they care.
“The pens are useful.” Kal reached into the second draw and brought out several more. “There’s…A few pieces of paper with shipping records."
“Anything good?” Verona asked.
She and Cetina had given up their search and gingerly moved to their side. Verona rested her rear on the table, Anton shooed her off, just in case it couldn’t handle the weight. Verona feigned dignity that her butt was too big.
“Not really.” Kal opened the third drawer. “Oh. A small bar of silver.”
“Now that’s interesting.” Verona took the small metal bar. “Oh. It’s pretty heavy.”
“Even better,” Anton said. “We’ll sell it when we get to Koumore. We can buy some goods with that money and send it back to Atros.”
“Spices?” Verona’s eyes sparkled with hope.
“We’ll see.” Anton patted her helmet. “If there is I’ll show you what I can whip up.”
“Yes!” Verona’s eyes sparkled brighter. “Yummy food. Yummy food.”
“So not much else?” Cetina asked. “I don’t think the others are having much luck.”
Umikgruid and Ceccitol frowning as they inspected the heavily damaged books.
“Again, when we come back we’ll have people go over this-”
“Oh!” Kal squeaked with delight, her ears pricked up. “I might have found something for you, Anton. Something I’d know you’ll like.”
“That’s either a rock or a swooning girl.” Verona laughed.
Kal thrust a book into his face. It wasn’t a ledger, like the vast majority of the books lying on the floor. It was a journal. A familiar journal.
“Excellent work, Kal.” Anton kissed her lightly again. Verona grumbled something, she’d need attention later otherwise she’d be in a mood. “Now let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Just like the journal found in the chest during their trip to Graterious the paper was incredibly fragile less compared to those left to the elements. Anton chanted a prayer to restore the book.
“Have you got something?” Umikgruid asked.
“What about you two?”
Ceccitol sighed. “Nothing. These are all old ledgers detailing shipments. But these are very boring. Not something I’d expect from a Kingdom that collapsed.”
“A dead Kingdom has no need for silver.” Umikgruid’s eyes widened as he saw the small bar. Verona chuckled as she passed it over. “This is pretty good, very few impurities. It’d sell for quite a sum.”
“Not to mention all those carts downstairs.” Anton opened the Journal to the front page. “There’s a small fortune down there. Now…What do we have here?”
The journal was still tattered but readable.
“It’s…It is from the same guy.” Anton began, Cetina frowned and tilted her head. “We found a journal in Mount Aspire from a Kar Kingdom noble that was ambushed by the Goblins. Then another in a locked chest in the ruins of a city, saying that he was coming here after being helped by a female mage. I’m guessing that she was responsible for those wards. There’s probably more on the outer walls, faded over time.”
“Sounds very odd.” Cetina held her chin. “And it ends up here in this desk?”
“Maybe they tried to continue the old Kingdom’s bureaucracy. And he managed to get put in charge since nobles historically rule things.” Anton shrugged. “Anyway…The first few pages are about running Balefire mine like it’s the last bastion of civilisation in the Kingdom.”
“If they only knew about Atros.” Verona frowned. “Though, I’m sure we would have gone along with them and banded together. This place had bigger walls than Atros did.” Verona sniggered. “When you turned up you would have been all alone.”
Anton sighed. “And it looks like it went well. He’s talking about them actually growing, though they are ignoring the mine…Hang on.”
“What?” Kal leant over his shoulder. She frowned as she looked at the word Anton’s finger hovered over. “Oh…”
“Ferula,” Anton said. “The mage that helped them is called Ferula.”
“Oh.” Verona folded her arms. “Well, that explains why she looks so old. She must be…ninety winters or more.”
“That’s not that old,” Ceccitol said, strangely defiant.
“…Anyway.” Anton returned his attention to the journal. “Seems like she set up the wards. And it mentions there are a lot covering the entire perimeter. He seems very excited. Also excited to get silver production up and running again, I don’t think their priorities are right but...”
“So where does it all go wrong?” Verona asked, swinging a leg as she rested against the desk.
“I’ll check the last entry. Here’s where it goes wrong. Seems it was the Ghlotsm. They weren’t ready for them, barricaded up the city and...” Anton frowned. “Seems he didn’t like that Ferula left.”
Anton coughed. “That bitch, after everything she’s done for us, she’s not here when we need her the most.”
“Sounds demanding.” Verona sighed.
“The Ghlotsm aren’t affected by the wards. They’re knocking on the walls of the sorting building. We can only hope that she comes soon. Otherwise, we’ll all be dead. Even if they get in they shouldn’t be able to get into the cellar.”
“Is that it?” Kal asked. She gently took the journal from him and flicked through the blank pages.
“Sounds like he expected to return,” Cetina said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have locked it away.”
“We should have a look for that cellar.” Anton closed the draws and began walking to the stairs. “I know there’s no chance they’re still alive if they’re down there.”
“Let us find it.” Umikgruid thumped his chest. “We deal with wood just as well as stone.”
“Dwarves are very good at working with both.” Ceccitol sighed with a smile.
As they began walking down the stairs Anton tapped on Cetina’s shoulder, motioning for her to hang back.
“Do you still have that little Ghlyirl box?”
Cetina’s face darkened slightly. “I do. I found it at the bottom of my pack. Just…pushed it out my mind.”
“Your father fought with everything he had to keep whatever is inside safe. We can’t open it, but one of the Dwarves or Dark Elves might be able to. Do you want to know what’s inside?”
Cetina’s eyes flicked to the floor. “I…I do. I want to know what those two bitches wanted with us in the first place. Sancha’s dead…” Cetina’s teeth ground at the mere mention of her name. “But Eluria’s still out there. She was probably the reason my mother disappeared. So she could…”
Anton held her shoulder until her anger subsided. Verona and Kal peeked up the stairs. Verona whispered something to Kal, both girls smirked, before disappearing from sight. Cetina gently patted his hand.
“I’m okay, Anton. I’m okay. I don’t like thinking about it, that’s all.”
“If…If you ever want to talk about it I can listen.”
Cetina nodded, a faint smile crept over her face. “Thanks, Anton. We should keep moving otherwise they’ll wonder what we’re doing.”
Anton followed Cetina down the stairs. Verona held a wild smile when they reached the ground, but she refused to elaborate further.
“Found it.” A Dwarf said loudly.
The Dwarves stood around a large opened wooden hatch to the side of the stairs. Anton was impressed at the speed at which they found it.
Umikgruid saw his face and smiled. “I told you that we were good.”
“They basically just walked to it,” Verona said. “Almost like they knew it was there…”
Umikgruid huffed. “If anyone bothered to look they would have noticed the gaps along the width of the wooden panels, a line of them. It wasn’t that hard.”
“Anything down there?” Anton asked.
Umikgruid chucked a small stone down the steps, rattling and bouncing until it faded from sight.
“Don’t know. But it’s quite deep.” Umikgruid squinted his eyes. “No light too.”
Anton summoned a small fireball.
“The ease of which you can do that…” Tuccac frowned lightly. “And with such frivolity too.”
Anton chuckled. “It’s the only way I can fight. If I didn’t have my magic I’d be basically useless. A few Dwarves and Dark Elves are to come with us. It’ll help us cover more ground very quickly.”
Anton pushed the fireball down the stairs. The stone steps were of good quality though covered in dust. The perfectly uniform layer told him that no one had disturbed it in a long time. Small plumes of dust rose around their feet along the slow descent. They dropped several meters before reaching the bottom. Anton increased the brightness, fully illuminating the room. It was very large.
And filled with corpses.
Over a hundred withered corpses lay huddled around open crates and barrels. Their skin had rotted away, the skeleton themselves were only held together by the tiniest hints of dried and desiccated tendons and sinew. Many had collapsed and were now simply a pile of bones held together inside of clothes. Anton’s stomach turned when he saw several small skulls.
“Guess Ferula didn’t come back,” Verona mumbled.
“How long did they wait here before they realised there wasn’t any hope?” Kal shook her head. “Did they just sit here and waste away, or did they choose to take a faster way out?”
“I think the quicker way.” Anton pointed to a small dagger stained with old blood, held in a bundle of hand bones.
“Oh.” Verona sighed. “Well…That’s that then.”
“There’s another room over there.” Anton summoned a second fireball and pushed towards a stone doorway. “Perhaps this place is filled with silver.”
Verona laughed, summoning her blood shards over her head. “If that’s true then we can buy so many Beast-kin.” She rubbed her cheeks, Kal grumbled and wrapped an arm around his. “All those fluffy tails and ears…”
Crates, marked with the Kar Kingdom’s eight-pointed crown filled the next room. Anton hoped they weren’t going to be filled with human skulls this time.
What was all that about anyway? Did someone just lose their mind near the end or was in preparation for some sort of ritual that wasn’t finished?
As Verona neared the doorway Cetina reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. Verona raised a brow, her eyes unreadable underneath the bright red glow of her power.
“You…You probably shouldn’t go first.” Cetina smiled. “You don’t have a shield.”
Verona shrugged. “I was just going to push my blood shards through first but okay then.”
Verona summoned her blood shards and pushed them through to the next room. They hovered as Cetina, her shield and sword raised, gingerly walked through the gap. Nothing happened and they all relaxed.
“Silver!” She shouted. “Lots of silver. One of the crates behind the wall has broken and they’ve just spilt out…I didn’t see a forge of smelter here.”
“It must have just broken over the ages.” Verona walked towards the doorway. “And if that whole room’s full of it…” She turned to Anton, walking backwards. “Would we be able to buy a city with this? Oh, maybe a small mansion out of the way where we can run away and have some fun. I-”
Verona’s heel touched the stones between the doorway. Blue light etched into the stone forming a small circle. Verona glanced down and jumped back, landing onto a surprised Cetina. Everyone readied their weapons as the small mark faded away.
“That was close.” Verona chuckled nervously, patting Cetina’s arm. “Thanks for that.”
“I…I just stood here.”
“Anyone know what that was?” Anton asked, crouching down and looking along the stones.
“Never seen it before,” Ceccitol said. “But-”
A growl emanated from behind Cetina. She immediately leapt over the stones, half holding Verona, before throwing her at Anton and resuming her stance. Verona didn’t speak, neither did he, as they looked towards the second room. The bright light caught a moving shadow, something moving behind the crates. At first, there was only one but it quickly grew to eight. Eight somethings were moving towards them, and they were not Ghlotsm. They were far too large.
Some sort of Ghlotsm Brood Mother? No, nothing had disturbed that dust. Something that’s been down here all this time. But what…
An eerie blue light gently cast itself over the wooden crates as the something’s approached. Verona drew back her shards and Kal readied a lightning arrow.
The first creature emerged. A wolf, at least at first. Walking on all fours its back reached almost one and a half meters tall. But this was no wolf. Its eyes, hollowed husks, glowed with the strange blue light, small wisps of smoke leaked out and faded into the air. Old and patchy fur covered most of its body, the holes large enough to reveal the bones moving underneath. Where organs and flesh once lay only an ethereal blue light remained. Its lower jaw was missing but it was replaced by the blue light.
“Necromancy!” Ceccitol yelled.
She loosed an arrow into the wolf’s head. The bow smashed through the dead skin and skull but the skeletal wolf kept moving. The glowing blue eyes narrowed as it lunged at them.
Anton fired a powerful lightning bolt into the Skeleton Wolf’s head. It exploded, fragments of bones flying everywhere. The blue light faded and the bones fell apart into a loose bundle, kept together by skin and fur. The corpse skidded to their feet and remained perfectly still. Verona threw a large shard into the bones. Again, nothing happened.
“Skeleton wolves?” Anton asked Ceccitol.
Ceccitol nodded. “Yes. But I haven’t seen necromancy for the last ten cycles. There might only be twenty of them on the Shadow Isles.”
“At least they aren’t killed outright,” Anton said. “But I can guess why they aren’t particularly liked.”
No one really wants to see their loved ones shuffling about. Animals wouldn’t’ be so bad, but playing with death will probably never had a good image.
The shadows continued to move towards them, all Skeleton Wolves. Anton wasn’t going to wait and find out how dangerous they really were; how strong their swipes and bites were no how the blue light affected their speed. When they emerged into view Anton fired lightning bolts into their heads. Once their skulls were smashed in the blue light left their bodies and the bones collapsed onto the floor. His curiosity wasn’t worth someone’s life.
“Why were they here?” Verona asked. She drove a blood shard into each corpse, smashing the skull to smithereens.
“Guarding the silver,” Anton said. “Probably. Guess that Verona wasn’t allowed to enter so the security activated.”
“So why didn’t it do it for me?” Cetina looked at the stones. “I stepped on them…”
“Magic doesn’t seem to work on you. Not compared to someone like Verona. That might have caused the circle to activate. So…I wonder if it works now.”
Verona stepped forward tapped on the stone with an outstretched foot. The stone remained dormant. Everyone breathed easy. Verona didn’t enter first, allowing a Dark Elf to take that dubious honour. Despite their extreme caution no further lights emerged.
“Anton!” A Dark Elf yelled, hidden behind some of the crates. “I’ve found something!”
Anton gingerly moved through giant stacks of wooden crates. A thin layer of dust covered the floor, now with footprints from the Dark Elves and the Skeleton Wolves. Nothing had moved in this place until just a few minutes ago.
The Dark elf pointed to an open space in the room. A metal circle lay embedded into the stones. Eight places, shaped a like a resting large wolf, were devoid of dust.
“Have you seen anything like this before?” Anton asked, kneeling down and running a hand over the steel band. It was impossibly smooth to the touch and incredibly cold, far colder than the rest of the room.
“No.” The Dark Elf looked behind the metal bands. “There’s dirt here. And not from the wolves.”
Several specks of dirt had built up at the base of the crates forming the rear wall. The Dark Elf nodded to the crates, two columns were misaligned compared to the others. As Anton and the elf began to remove the incredibly heavy Cetina and Kal came to his side.
“Anton.” Kal began. “Verona’s…Oh. You have something.”
“Yeah.” Anton nodded to the metal ring. “That’s where they were resting this whole time. If they’re skeletons then they don’t need to worry about eating or drinking.”
“But magic would surely run out after a while,” Cetina said.
“Not if that band has something to do with it. Maybe they use Earth Mana, like the pens and the portal. That’s what I’d do. I wonder if that stuff runs out? So far it hasn’t.”
Kal and Cetina knelt by the metal band. Kal took a blade and tapped the ring, it rang just like a normal piece of metal.
“Sounds like steel.” Kal shrugged. She looked up at him and frowned. “I’m guessing the wooden board isn’t supposed to be there?”
Behind the crates, a dark piece of wood rested against the stone wall. Anton, Cetina and the Dark Elf, removed the remaining crates. The piece of wood came free without any effort, though it too was quite heavy. Behind it lay a tunnel, travelling deep into the earth. Anton summoned another bright fireball. It had been dug quickly and in a rush, wooden support beams were thrown haphazardly along the entire length. Even at the maximum range of his magic, the tunnel continued into the darkness.
“Are we heading down that?” Cetina asked, raising a black brow.
Anton shook his head. “No. We’ve spent enough time here.” The Dark Elf breathed more easily. “Besides, we need to get these back to Atros for safe keeping.”
Cetina thrust her sword in the crate and ripped it open. These weren’t filled with silver or gold, rather a black rock with a blue ore. As he twisted the ore the blue ore ran along the veins as if it was liquid. Yet it was as hard as stone.
“Strange.” Anton passed the stone to Kal.
“Someone wanted this.” Kal frowned. “Enough to keep it behind necromancy. Eight of them at that.”
“The Dwarves would know.” Anton tossed up another piece of ore. “What were you saying about Verona?”
Kal and Cetina sighed in unison, the Dark Elf looked oddly at Anton.
“She’s fantasising about all the things we could buy with the silver.” Kal sighed again, gently shaking her head. “A lot of it to do with Beast-kin.”
“You just need to let her play with your ears and tail more.” Anton chuckled and gently stroked Kal's ears. Kal grumbled but didn’t recoil, rather pushing her ear closer to his hand.
“My tail is supposed to be only for you,” Kal whispered. “It’s just that she’s always getting her gropey hands on it.”
“How…How soft is it?” Cetina asked.
“Very soft,” Anton said as Kal continued to nuzzle closer to Anton. “But the tail does belong to me. Even if Verona keeps grabbing it at night.”
“You people are very strange.” The Dark Elf said. Anton had almost forgotten he was there. Awkwardness only grew on his face as Anton continued to play with Kal’s ears.
Anton chuckled, patting a slightly disappointed Kal. “We kind of are. But, surely, that’s what you expected from us? You travelled all that way to find someone based on a vision, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to presume they might be a bit weird.”
“I don’t know about that. But…It does line up with the old stories.”
“What kind of stories?” Anton asked, his tone turning more serious. “Of strangers emerging out of nowhere and changing the world? Or turning the tide of some crisis?”
“Sort of.” The Dark Elf scratched his cheek. “Usually it’s someone coming from some faraway land that comes to the aid of a people under threat. It’s been a long time since I’ve told them to my children. I’m sure one of the Elders in The Shadow Isles would know more. They help raise the younger generations. They would know more.”
Kal raised a brow at Anton.
Maybe the Dark Elves, living longer than humans, would have stories about other humans that have come here like I have. But…Does it just have to be humans? What about Dwarves, Dark Elves, Wood Elves…Or maybe a Ghlotsm or a Goblin? The Demons are proving that it’s certainly possible outside the power of the Old Gods.
A sharp point, pricking at the gap in his armour, brought him back. He patted Kal.
“It’s just a thought that’s swimming around my head. If…When, when we defeat the Goblins would I have the opportunity to talk to these Elders?”
“Of course.” The Dark Elf’s voice grew a few levels in pitch, his ears pulling back in happiness. Almost like Kal’s. “I’m sure they would be happy to tell you anything you wanted to know, once The Shadow Isles are safe.”
Well, I can understand why he’s going to push for me to keep going. Even if the stories are just that.
“I’ll be glad to see the Isle. Let’s board this up for now and get this stuff back to Atros.”
After replacing the panel, the blue-veined rock still in Kal’s hands, they returned to the entrance. Verona stood over the crate full of silver, marvelling at the sheer amount of wealth lying before her, while the others rummaged through other crates. These were filled with more silver bars.
Anton glanced at Kal.
That noble probably thought he could by the Kar Kingdom back. But not the way he thought.
“What are you doing?” Anton asked Verona.
Verona, her face beaming with happiness, turned to him even as the silver reflection bathed her face. “Think of all the fluffy Beast-kin we can buy now.”
“Oh dear.” Anton and Kal simultaneously shook their heads.
Verona slapped her thighs and jumped on the box, her legs swinging over the edge of the squeaking crate. “I’m only half kidding. But with this, we can buy pretty much anything. I’ve just been talking to Umikgruid about all the things their clan makes. And, trust me, Atros will be basically impregnable once we’re done.” Her face grew angry, her feet stopped swinging. “No more Goblins to fuck up our lives. That’ll be good.”
Anton pulled Verona off the crate and into a hug. She looked up at him with a curious expression. “Maybe even a beautiful wedding dress.” He whispered into her ear.
Her face reddened as she tried to back away and fight back the embarrassment. Evidently, she’d been thinking about it a lot. They still had yet to pronounce their love to the rest of Atros.
“Now you’ve said it.” Verona smiled wildly. “I was about to go get the portal stones, but I just wanted to double check with you. Also…No one but us three can open them without getting a really nasty zap.”
“That would be great, Verona. I was going to send someone up…That would have made a bad impression.”
Verona laughed and ran back up the stairs.
Umikgruid, rummaging through a different crate of silver ingots, turned idly and disinterested. When he saw the small lump of ore in Kal’s hands his eyes lit up. A trembling finger pointed at the ore.
“Where…Where did you get that?”
“One of the crates over there,” Anton said. “Why? Is it dangerous?”
“Dangerous? No.” Umikgruid raced to Kal, with a speed unbefitting of a Dwarf, and snatched the lump from her hands. Kal threw Anton a glance. “This…This is so rare. No wonder the Kar Kingdom wanted to build a mine here. This is far more valuable than silver.”
“So what is it?” Anton asked, Kal nodded.
“Chelium!” Umikgruid said excitedly. Anton felt odd seeing a Dwarf with sparkling eyes. “This is Chelium ore. Not that much in this one piece but it’s still incredible.”
“There’s at least another crate of it back there.” The Dark Elf said.
Umikgruid’s jaw fell open, so too did the other Dwarves listening in. His eyes snapped between the lump of ore and the elf. “Are you serious?”
The Dark Elf nodded. “Could be more. We only checked one.”
Umikgruid laughed. “If only for this. If only for this the trip has been worth it.”
“How rare is this stuff?” Anton took the ore back, Umikgruid felt loathed to part with it. “We’ve got a few weapons made from it back at Atros.”
Umikgruid chocked on his breath. “That’s incredible…There are only a few deposits in the whole world. The Dwarven Isles only have two small Chelium mines. And they don’t make that much anymore. But…You know that Chelium weapons are far stronger than iron or steel?”
“Yes. Same with the green metal…Bosciycium.”
“You have some of that too?”
“What are you talking about?” Ceccitol approached, her arms folded with Tuccac close behind.
“I think that Umikgruid has fallen in love with a rock,” Tuccac spoke snidely.
Umikgruid waved the Dark Elf off. “Bah! If you had a mine that could bring up this those Goblins wouldn’t have been a problem. You could have bought nearly every mercenary from Bebbezzar and not have to come all this way.”
Both elves fell silent.
“Money isn’t the problem,” Ceccitol said. “I-”
“I know. I know.” Umikgruid smiled. “I doubt someone like you would actually come this far when help is so much closer. And more numerous.”
“Yes…”
“Can you smelt this?” Anton asked. “We haven’t tried to smelt our weapons down. But can we? With the forges that Atros has?”
Umikgruid waved his hands unconvinced. “Your forge is good, for a humans’. Especially so far from the rest of civilisation. But no. You would need a blast furnace. And that would only make poor weapons. Like most of the human Chelium weapons I’ve seen. We Dwarves could make some with our forges…But they are so far away.”
“Hmm.” Anton bounced the ore. “Oh well. We’ll just take them and be done with this place. I’m sure that you’ll all be happier to be travelling again.”
---[]---
The portal, established in the first cellar room, worked exactly as predicted. Anton felt a wash of relief as the white disk formed between the stones and they began to transport the crates safely to Atros. Only one person could carry a crate at a time. Otherwise the first person to fully step onto the portal would teleport away without the crate, causing the other person to fall over and spill the contents of the old and rotten crates. After cleaning out the cellar, Anton was sure they were now millionaires, they returned to the surface but not before placing another portal set in the second room. He had no plans to lay the other portal stones in Atros anytime soon but it would be very useful. After casting a lightning trap prayer on the cellar door they sealed it shut, placing heavy mining equipment on top. Unfortunately, the disorientation played heavily on the Dark Elves and Dwarves so Anton called a brief break before departing. They rested just inside the main building while those outside continued their vigilant watch. Apparently, a few Ghlotsm were lurking in the shadows but were nowhere near brave enough to attack.
“When we come back we’ll need to clear out the Ghlotsm.” Anton enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his face.
“Not before?” Verona asked. “They’re just going to breed back up.”
“And our magic isn’t that effective against them.”
“Still…You’re not going to wipe out the nest?”
“The Goblins, wherever they came from, wanted this place. And if we leave the Ghlotsm alone they’re going to have a very difficult time taking it. Just leave the two to fight it out until we come back.”
“Just like before,” Kal said softly.
“Like Amsore Quarry,” Verona said, elbowing Anton. “That was the first time that we met. Properly, that is.”
“You had been stalking me before that.” Anton smiled.
Verona raised her finger but couldn’t find a response.
Anton patted her helmet and turned to those on guard. “Does anyone know how to pick a lock?”
Gosthilda raised her hand. “I do.”
“Can we borrow you for a moment?” Cetina tensed at his words.
“Sure. But…What could you possibly need unlocking here?”
“Something that not even our magic can deal with.”
Cetina walked silently to her horse and retrieved the small Ghlyirl box. Her lip quivered at the sight of the hexagonal scored metal but she forced herself to be strong, taking a deep breath and slamming her thigh with her fist. She passed the box to Anton, Verona and Kal immediately understood.
“Can you open this?”
Gosthilda raised the lock to her eye, a smirk formed on her lips. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. This was built by Dwarves, a pretty expensive one at that.” She ran her hand over the surface. “And to make it all out of Ghlyirl. Someone didn’t want anyone to know this thing even existed. Any idea what’s inside?”
“No.” Anton folded his arms. “But…It’s…Cost a lot.”
“Give me a moment and I’ll have it open.”
Gosthilda whipped out several small metal pins. After laying the box on the rear of the cart she began to work on the lock.
“We don’t know if there are any traps in the box.” Anton gean. “So, please just be careful.”
“It won’t be magical.” Gosthilda groaned as the lock began to turn. “Not with this. But I know what I’m doing.”
After a few minutes of fiddling with the lock, more curses and tongue waggling, the lock clicked for the final time. Gosthilda stepped to the side and opened the box with a metal pin. A plush, soft and thick red cloth covered the interior, tightly hugging a small white and grey stone.
“That’s it?!” Cetina breathing rapidly grew erratic. “That’s what my father died for? Some stone?”
Anton held her shoulder. Her eye snapped to him, wild with panic and anger, but it was enough to stop her from falling further.
“I’m…I’m okay.”
Verona leant forward. “Any idea what it is?” She poked it with her dagger. “Looks like a normal rock to me.”
“I doubt it would have been some prank,” Anton said. “Not after all this.”
“You can’t feel that?” Kal asked, raising an aqua brow. “I can feel…Mana coming from it. It’s growing too.”
“Is that what that was?” Verona shrugged.
The stone was emanating mana. It felt like the mana within him but somehow was outside his body, unlike his created magic. He simply couldn’t touch it. It was the first time he had felt anything like it. He gingerly picked it up with his left hand and inspected the stone. It was completely unremarkable, apart from a few red marks on one side. Really just red scratches.
“I honestly have no idea.” Anton placed the stone back. “But, it’s still yours Cetina. I wouldn’t sell or throw it away. Best probably to just leave it in the box for now until we know more.”
“Yeah.” Cetina took another deep breath before closing the lid. “Since it’s magical I wonder if that person, what was her name…Ferula, if she knows some…Anton? You’re bleeding.”
Cetina pointed to Anton’s right hand. Even though his hand was fully enclosed by the leather glove blood dripped free in great beads. Delirium washed over his head as he tried to rip the glove from his hand. His vision grew red with blood; his face, ears and pants felt wet but he didn’t care. The only thought running through his mind was to remove the glove, only the most primal of instincts remained. Strength left his body as he staggered to one side. The very ground wrapped around him, dragging the last vestiges of his consciousness into an endless black void.