Chapter Twenty-Two - Deep Dwarves
It took a surprisingly long time before we encountered our first trap.
One moment Cinder was walking a step or so behind me, then next there was a gasp and the rough sound of stone grating on stone, and the young woman was gone.
I turned and met Alex's eyes, which was only possible thanks to Miss Cinder no longer residing between us. "She's gone, Bone Papa," Alex said.
"Yes, it seems that way," I replied.
"S-sir Harold, a little little little bit of help, please?" Cinder said.
Looking down, I discovered Cinder gripping the edges of a perfectly square pit. There was a clean indentation for the now-opened trapdoor to fit into off to one side, and below, just visible by the light we cast, was a set of rusty metallic pikes some three necrometres down.
I gestured towards the young lady, and with a slight tug of my magic, pulled her up and out of the hole. "There you go," I said as I settled her down on more solid ground.
The trapdoor 'clicked' then rushed back into place with a dull thump, hiding any sign of its presence. I knelt next to it, touching the ground with the tip of a bony finger until I found the trap's groove.
"This is cleverly designed," I said. A slight push of magic into my eyes allowed me to see past the stone of the walls. The mechanism below was relatively complex. A counter-weight kept the trapdoor in place, it was, in turn, linked to a small mechanism with what looked very much like an hourglass.
On putting enough weight on the door for it to collapse inwards, the counterweight would rise and lock into place, holding it open for a moment or two. Once the hourglass had emptied itself, it would release the weight, allowing the door to close itself. Interestingly, the locking mechanism extended lower, and... ah!
I rose to a crouch and reached for the wall. There was a small indentation, one that looked almost natural. Pressing it in pulled a small lever that locked the counterweight in place below, which of course, also locked the trap, but only for as long as the hourglass lasted. Something like thirty seconds, at a guess.
"Ingenious," I said. "A dwarf who knows what they're looking for will have no trouble with these traps."
"I see," Cinder replied. "Why didn't you trigger it? You were ahead of me."
"I'm likely too light to push the trapdoor down," I said.
I couldn't see Cinder's expression, not with her mask and hood and the limited light, but I did have the impression that she was pouting. "I can't decide if I should be insulted or embarrassed," she said.
"Well, it's probably best that the trap triggered with you. You have the reflexes to handle it." Of course, what I didn't say was that Alex was also lighter and faster besides, and both Rem and Mem had enough legs that even if the trapdoor opened, they'd still be mostly outside of it. "Let's keep an eye open for more traps. I can't think of a single dungeon or underground lair that only uses one singular trap."
Actually, that might be clever. Have a single, obvious trap by the entranceway, then suspiciously laid out corridors and passages and signs everywhere else, but no accompanying traps. Any hero or adventurer venturing (hehe, I'd have to remember that one) into the location would likely succumb to paranoia.
That actually sounded like fun, but I shook the idea off. I didn't need to turn into some petty overlord, now did I?
"We'll move a little more carefully," I said. At the same time, while I turned back towards the front and the direction we were heading in, I silently cast Find Trap.
The spell raced out ahead and some ways behind me, giving me a sense for the location of any traps. I made sure that the spell would exclude any members of our group who might be strong enough to trigger it.
In any case, the dwarves who had created these tunnels had slipped in a number of ways to prevent enemies from travelling through them.
I noticed a shutter hidden in the roof above, ready to drop open and let some boulders fall, a few spring-loaded spears in the walls activated by pressure plates, and even a section of slightly angled tunnel with a very large, round boulder hidden above, ready to drop down and roll onto any unsuspecting foes.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Fortunately, every trap had a way to be disarmed, usually with no more fuss than pressing in a rock along a wall, or pulling up a small, well-concealed lever. After finding the sixth such
disarming system, I began noticing a few almost-natural looking cuts in the stone. It was really seeing the same mark multiple times that clued me in. The dwarves had writing on their walls, cleverly disguised, warning them of any trouble.
More, the marks were at about the height of a dwarf's trailing hand, and were usually quite close to the disarming system. A dwarf moving through here would only need to press a hand to the wall while walking and they'd never had to fear running into one of their own traps.
We were some ways into the tunnel when I first heard the dwarves ahead. Two voices, both distinct, arguing with each other. And growing louder.
"That's the thing! It doesn't matter. The space was minded by the Sander clan first!"
"But the Saw clan's claim is older."
"Oh, sure, but the Saws are all sodding idiots. Who's side are you even on?"
"The side that's right. When the Saw made the claim, they got the rights. It's hardly their fault that the Anvil reformation changed the definition of a fathom."
"Their claim only reaches so low because the new definition is deeper! They wouldn't have had the claim if--Oh precious metals! An undead!"
I raised a hand in greeting as two dwarves rounded a corner and came face-to-shins with our little group. "Hello! My name is--" I began before I was interrupted by a crossbow bolt to the chest.
Fortunately, I was wearing Battle Tweed and the bolt just bounced off without causing any harm.
I brushed my jacket while one dwarf ran and the other hurried to load another bolt into his crossbow. "Please don't be alarmed, I'm merely a visitor. I mean you no harm and only want to--"
I was cut off by another bolt, this one bouncing off my head and burying itself in the ceiling.
"Alex, be a dear and fetch the dwarves for a chat?" I asked.
"Yes Daddy," Alex said before darting ahead in a flurry of skirts and a flash of petticoats. In moments I had two trussed up dwarves on the ground before me, ankles and wrists tied up behind them with neat little ribbons and creative swears escaping with each gasping breath.
"Let's try this again," I said. "Hello, my name is Harold. I'm visiting your fine tunnels and was hoping to speak with a kind dwarf or two in order to perhaps negotiate some things, purchase others, and maybe get some answers to a few basic questions. I mean you no harm, and am in fact more likely to help you than anything else."
One of the dwarves spat in the general direction of my oxfords. "You're not gonna finish me off without a fight, skeleton!" he said.
"Wait, Belt, look, that skeleton's a human one. And that woman back there's looking pretty alive to me. So are the mantises."
"Mantises!" Belt shouted. "By my grandfather's rusty anvil, the damned bugs are allying themselves with the undead now?"
"Not quite," I said. "Now, gentlemen, I'm going to allow my maid to release you. Alex will even return your weapons to you. In exchange, I'd like to have a polite, civil conversation."
"And why would we listen, huh?" Belt asked.
"Because I could very easily get everything I want from your corpse, without the hassle of being polite," I said as I leaned a little closer, close enough that I could see the fire in my sockets reflected off of Belt's eyes.
He swallowed. "Alright," he said. "We can be reasonable."
Alex reached down and tugged the ribbons free with a quick swipe, and the two dwarves carefully climbed to their feet.
Belt seemed like the younger of the two, with a split-forked beard that was a little wild on the edges and a belt full of tools around his hip.
The dwarf next to Belt was similarly garbed, with tooled leather and a few more tools, though his seemed smaller, callipers and measuring devices. His beard was long and well-tended, the tip tucked into his belt to stay out of the way.
"Now, it's a pleasure to meet you both on more civil terms," I said. "Please, take me to your leader!"
***