“Dabbin! By the Mother, boy, what were ye thinkin hidin like that!?” Krazzik cried, holding his son at arm’s length while checking him over one moment, then hugging the boy fiercely with his one good arm the next. “If yer Mum were here, she’d have done skinned me alive already!”
Glade simply lay on the cold ground, listening to the impromptu reunion as he coughed out the dust from his lungs with every other breath.
Bragden stepped past Glade, carefully inspecting the collapsed passage.
“That should stop the slagging spiders,” Bragden said loud enough for everyone to hear. “A rush job if ever I’ve seen one, but a rush job done well. Ye should be proud, that’s for certain.”
The compliment was picked up by everyone present, a mixed chorus of grateful grunts and words of appreciation directed toward the miners who had made their escape possible.
“And what’s this I hear ‘bout our boys meetin the Gnolls head on?” Krazzik bellowed, an arm wrapped protectively around his son. “And winnin outright?”
“Aye, that the they did,” Bragden replied. “They looked like the Kings own, I tell ye! Stemmin the tide and stoppin the slavers cold with the dogs’ own weapons no less!”
Glade knew a motivational speech when he heard one. Not that he disagreed. They deserved a good morale boost. After months of being slaves, the dwarves had finally earned their freedom. The incredible accomplishments done by all warranted some recognition.
And it was working.
Scattered cheers erupted up and down the cramped tunnel, with several clusters of dwarves already shouting out praise or recounting their roles in the entire endeavor.
For the first time in days, Glade finally felt safe.
Rolling onto his back, he continued to cough out the last of the dust from his lungs, exhaustion permeating throughout every inch of his body.
“There now,” Bragden said, grabbing Glade by the shoulders and hauling him to his feet. “It just be a bit o’ cave dust, lad. You’ll be fine in a moment or two.”
Mumbling his thanks, Glade fought to control his breathing as he tasted the cold, stale air. There was little light compared to the torch filled cavern they had just escaped from, but the mana enhancing his senses let him see more than he normally could otherwise.
The dwarves had done exactly what they had said they would - bypass the initial tunnel collapse to access the blocked off passages. However, Glade couldn’t help but notice the dust settling to the ground was adding to an already extensive layer of dirt covered floors. It was obvious the section of caves they now stood in had not seen light or life in decades. Maybe even centuries.
“Why is it so cold?” he asked Bragden.
“Ha! Just how long were ye down in them tunnels?” The bald dwarf laughed, slapping Glade’s back like he had just told the funniest joke in the world. “It still be early spring, meanin the snows have yet to melt up at this here elevation. We were lucky to have the thermal vents keepin us warm down there. With the walls all sealed up nice and tight like, we be feelin the true elements again.”
“I don’t suppose we have blankets?” Glade sighed. His uniform was barely holding on as it was, not to mention it was made for jungle climates, not extreme cold at high elevation.
“Twas one o’ the first things Krazzik prioritized in bringin’ with us,” he laughed. “They be around here somewhere. Though, make sure ye get one afore they’re all gone or our quartermaster snags em. Can’t have ye turnin into an icicle, now can we?”
Bragden laughed at his own joke and stomped off to join some of the miners in celebrating their escape.
Mumbling his thanks, Glade fought to control his breathing as he leaned against the tunnel wall. Exhaustion pulled at his body and mind, draining him as the adrenaline rush finally left his system. The flashing green bar in the corner of his vision reinforced what he already knew, that his stamina was virtually empty.
But his exhaustion couldn’t erode the warm feeling of triumph as he absorbed the surroundings.
Several clusters of dwarves were still celebrating, wrapping each other in fierce hugs and slapping each other’s backs so hard it looked like they were in a competition to see who could throw each other's backs out first. Others had fallen to their knees, muttering prayers of thanks while some of the older dwarves simply danced a jig.
Throughout it all, Riya’s hovering light bobbed and weaved with her movements, casting shadows along the tunnel walls as she wove her way through the crowd. The young elf checked each of them, sparing whatever healing energy she could muster.
Without a doubt, the elf continued to impress.
Out of habit, Glade began cataloging their resources and personnel. 61 dwarves, 2 elves, and himself made up their current group. The piles of goods liberated from the Gnolls were scattered throughout the area.
As he walked the length of the tunnel, he found only 13 spears and 3 crossbows amongst the crowd. Crates of food and water skins had been some of the first things to be brought through, showing a level of foresight that Glade hadn’t expected from Krazzik.
He couldn’t help but notice a small group had gathered around Gird, the dual blacksmith and metallurgist for the clan, as he showed off the items he was looking after. Each dwarf marveled at Glade’s slime catcher and, interestingly enough, Kedryn’s staff.
Finally though, he found where they were keeping the blankets.
“I dunna care if’n ye bested the Alpha yerself!” A black bearded dwarf smaller than Dabbin snarled. “Ye only get one blanket a piece!”
“C’mon, Patch,” a larger dwarf replied. “Ye know me Mum’s one eighth deep dwarf, which means I got cold blood runnin in me veins. I need the extra warmth.”
“I wouldn’t give ye another blanket even if I were allowed,” the smaller dwarf answered gruffly. “Ye still have yet to return me good pick I issued ye yesterday!”
“But, that wasn’t my fault!” the larger dwarf complained. “We was told to drop our gear and run! Ye heard the chief’s order, same as us.”
“Aye, that I did,” Patch sniffed. “And I still ran with all me gear and the items I be responsible for. Now, ye can keep complainin, which means I’ll assign ye to me team cataloging what we have left, or ye can take the blanket done already signed over to ye. And if’n you're feeling cold and all, ye start lugging all the crates over here. That’ll warm ye right up!”
The larger dwarf scowled, but took his blanket without further complaint.
“Next!” the smaller dwarf called.
“Pardon,” Glade said, stepping up. “I take it you’re the quartermaster? ”
“Yer the human who rescued us,” the dwarf grunted. “Thanks for that by the way. Names Patch.”
“Glade,” he responded in kind, shaking the smaller dwarf’s hand. “Bragden said I should grab a blanket for me and my people before they're gone.”
He decided to leave out that the bald dwarf had also recommended he find one before their quartermaster took over.
“Good. I appreciate those who get straight to the point,” Patch said. “But no, ye can’t have a blanket.”
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Glade stood rooted to the spot, staring at the quartermaster in confusion.
“Why?” he asked, wondering if this was some sort of joke.
“Yer not a member o’ the clan,” he replied with an indifferent shrug. “Only clan members have access to clan goods. That's part o’ the clan charter, and I, for one, ain’t going against the charter.”
No wonder Bragden had told him to grab a blanket before their quartermaster got involved.
“I see,” Glade responded slowly. “Who dictates these goods are clan property?”
“The chief has delegated that responsibility to me,” Patch responded by folding his arms, silently daring him to complain further.
“Well, in that case…”
“I’ll take me a couple o’ them blankets,” Krazzik stepped in. “And I’ll be lending one o’ mine to me friend here.”
“Sure thing chief, so long as ye adhere to the charter, that's fine by me,” Patch replied, eyeing Glade.
Krazzik pulled two blankets and gave one to Glade, steering him away as quickly as he could.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said as soon as they were out of earshot. “I seen ya talkin with young Patch there and figured you’d be needin some help. Let me just say that our quartermaster can be a bit o’ a stickler when it comes to his job. Some say it's on account o’ the Gnome blood runnin through his veins. Just be glad we don’t have any paper, or we’d both be fillin out forms till sundown. Even so, I ain’t seen another like him. He got all this here food and equipment through the tunnel faster than me Da could drain a good Dwarven Reaches lager.”
“I understand,” Glade sighed, folding the surprisingly heavy blanket over his arm. And he did understand. He had dealt with more than one stingy logistician in his time.
“Just don’t lose the blanket I’m lending ye and we’ll be right as rain. Just so ya know, he even charges me when I don’t take care o’ the clan’s equipment, and I be the chief!” Krazzik laughed, slamming a meaty fist onto his back hard enough to make him stumble.
After that, Krazzik dragged Glade through the huddled dwarves, pounding backs, swapping stories, and being thanked. It was obvious the dwarves weren’t moving anytime soon. Not only were they making the rounds, Patch was leading a crusade in cataloging the remaining gear, and Riya was still offering healing to any who needed it.
But it was Dabbin, Krazzik’s son, who stole everyone’s attention.
“Ta da!” Dabbin yelled, running up and down the line with his arms raised high over his head. When he wasn’t cheering he gave random hugs.
As they approached Kedryn, the Corporal took it upon himself to teach the young dwarf how to do a proper high five.
Several minutes, and one hilariously prolonged demonstration later, had Dabbin running up and down the tunnel forcing high fives on everyone he came in contact with.
“Why don’t ye take a breather,” Krazzik said after they had finished making the rounds. “Bragden tells me ye more than earned it.”
Glade appreciated the sentiment, but the truth was his fatigue had slowly evaporated over the last hour of talking. Another side effect of his mana poisoning. Not that it was a good thing. He felt like he’d drained a whole pot of coffee in one go, covering up the ache of sleep for the moment.
He really needed to focus on processing his mana.
“Thank you. But first, did everyone make it through safely?”
“Aye, that they did,” Krazzik replied with a satisfied smile. “Yer elf friend, Riya, healed up a few o’ the worse cases already. She’s a good lass, that one. Not what I expected from… well, ye know.”
“She truly is one of a kind,” Glade responded, looking over Krazzik’s head to find that Riya had finally taken a moment to rest.
“Aye. That and you’re other friend be one o’ a kind as well.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he replied, stopping just long enough to look Krazzik in the eye. Unspoken questions lurked just beneath the surface of the clan chief’s gaze, a clear invitation to share information.
While he trusted Krazzik, the dwarf chief most definitely didn’t need to know anything else about the three of them than he already did.
“How are the miners?” Glade asked, redirecting the topic as he pointed to the three dwarves who had been responsible for tunneling through the cave walls. “They look like they’re on death's door.”
“That they do,” Krazzik said with pride. “They’ve earned a bit o’ shut eye and then some. Normally, we allow sapper’s a bit more time to rest after using Sundering Strike. Overwhelms the mana channels something fierce. It’ll take em a few days, but they’ll be good as mithril afore long.”
“Makes sense,” Glade said. He had firsthand experience with how important caring for one’s mana channels were.
On a whim, Glade grabbed their pouch of mana shards and picked out three softly glowing crystal chips.
“Riya mentioned that pure mana shards can help mana channels recover. I’m not certain how they work, but we have several if you think they would help your men.”
“Put that pouch away!” Krazzik hissed, his eyes darting to his left and right. “Me and me boys are trustworthy, but that doesn’t mean it be smart to flash around treasures to just anyone. Do ye know how much these be worth?”
“I understand they're rare, but those with talents such as your men could be of greater help to us in the near term than a bit of money later on. I’m more than happy to share if it speeds their recovery.”
“Aye, that they will. Thank you,” he said before taking the shards. “Do ye mind me askin where ye got them all?” Krazzik asked in a horribly disguised attempt at being nonchalant.
“Slimes,” Glade sighed. “Lots and lots of slimes, among other monsters.”
“Yer shard hunters then?” Krazzik asked, staring at the sparks of light in his hand. “Is that what ye were doin in the underground? That would make a bit more sense as to why ye have a royal pyro and treeless celestial. But why’d ye go after slimes? I’d be thinkin ye would go after somethin a bit easier at yer level. Sorry to pry, especially seein as that pouch o’ shards and our freedom shows ye know a thing or two about yer craft. But still, I’m curious what ye used as bait?”
“Bait?” Glade asked, confused by the question.
“Aye, bait. The only way to hunt slimes is to use live bait. Like the thrice damned Gnoll’s used me,” he said, spitting to the side. “If’n ye hadn’t come along when ye had, the Gnoll’s would have lit the slime on fire with their dark flame, killing it and me.”
“If you put it that way, I guess we used ourselves as bait,” Glade said with a shrug. “Dealing with the slimes wasn’t too difficult once we got the hang of it. We used the star silver to intercept and paralyze them, then Kedryn blasted them with fire.”
“Used yer’selves as bait he says,” Krazzik muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. “Ye must be blessed in the head or on some crazed training for yer path. How’d ye know star silver paralyzed slimes?”
“We stumbled onto the secret by accident,” Glade said. “After we harvested the star silver from a large Magma Beetle, we used it carapace as a shield to stop a slime mid attack. That’s how we learned of the metal's unique properties.”
“Son, anybody ever teach ye how to tell a story good and proper?” Krazzik responded by shaking his head in disbelief. “Ye’ve got to have the highest chance stat of anyone I know to survive like ye did, but ye explained the tale with all the bluster of a constipated Antinium! No passion. No detail. Just the facts. Where’s the joy in that? Once we get out o’ this pit we’re in, I expect the full story, embellishment and all!”
“We’ll see,” Glade chuckled as he took an offered water skin from Kedryn.
“Good!” Krazzik laughed, slamming him on the back again. “I look forward to it! Also, I’d like to thank ye all proper like after me men rest. It’s not everyday someone saves yer clan outta the kindness o’ their hearts. Oh, and afore I forget, I’m sorry ye lost yer metal boom stick to the Shaman. It looked like a right powerful treasure.”
Kedryn snickered loudly, drawing their attention. Both he and Krazzik gave the Corporal a questioning look.
“Something funny?” Glade asked.
“Oh, come on, sir. He said boom stick! You can't tell me that isn’t funny.” Kedryn blurted out as if that were answer enough.
After another awkward moment, Kedryn elaborated.
“You know, from the Army of Darkness?”
Glade suddenly felt a headache coming on.
“Ahhh…. Right,” Krazzik said, looking between the two. “Is there an Army o’ Darkness I should be made aware of?”
Glade groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Wait, you haven’t seen Army of Darkness?” Kedryn blurted. “It’s a cult classic! I was certain you would have seen it seeing as you’re so much older than I am...”
“Cult? What cult?” Krazzik said, panic bleeding into his voice. “Is there a Army o’ Darkness cult after ye?”
“There is no cult or Army of Darkness,” Glade sighed. “I believe what the Corporal was referring to was some sort of theatrical performance from home. Please ignore it. And Kedryn?”
“Yes sir?”
“Shut up.”
“Acknowledged sir.”
Krazzik looked between the two, the emotions on his face shifting from shock to uncertainty, and finally to a wary amusement in rapid succession.
“Moving along,” Glade said, turning back to Krazzik in an attempt to change the subject. “I’d like to scout further up the tunnel sooner rather than later if at all possible.”
“Aye, that be a right smart idea. The tunnels don’t seem to have been used in some time, but every dwarf worth his beard knows the underground hides dangers round every corner. Give us a few hours o’ rest and a couple o’ us will join ye. I have several o’ me boys on watch just in case. Besides, your crew looks half dead themselves.”
Glade turned to look at Kedryn and Riya, noting the bags under their eyes. It had been a long time since they had rested. Reluctantly, he nodded in agreement.
“Good. Afore I go,” Krazzik said, snapping his fingers as if he had forgotten something. “Ye don’t happen to have a sharp knife on ye that I could borrow?”
Kedryn promptly handed over the improvised star silver dagger they had recovered from the Magma Beetle.
Krazzik gave a low whistle as he accepted the blade, running his finger along the natural edge. “Yer gonna have to share the story o’ this here beauty with me as well. Ye mind if I sharpen it up a bit?”
“Feel free,” Kedryn said.
The dwarven chief nodded his thanks and departed, giving Glade a chance to finally check in with his own people.
No sooner had he sat down than Kedryn asked him a question.
“You’ve never seen Army of Darkness?” he hissed in English.
“No,” Glade responded, pulling the pack over to him so he could check the egg.
“Sir, I’m trying to figure you out. I mean, didn’t you watch movies?”
“Of course I did.”
“Really? Which was your favorite?”
“Patton.”
“Patton?”
“Yes,” Glade replied in all seriousness. “It’s a cult classic.”