Exhausted as he was, Naveck couldn’t sleep. The scratching only grew louder and louder, magnified by his Prospector Perception. Most of the miners had fallen into a deep sleep, overcome by exhaustion, but the Rune Crafters were still hard at work.
Garok had ordered them to carve fortification runes on parts of the tunnel that had already been mined, still leaving our path unprotected. He should have ordered everyone to retreat until reinforcements arrived, but the greedy bastard wanted to keep going. However, to his credit, he stood closest to the sounds of scratching, leaning against his greataxe.
Naveck watched the Rune Crafters meticulously work, chiseling perfect lines in the rock. It helped calm his nerves to observe the dwarves lose themselves in their work. It made him think of his son, Nero, who he would watch scribble on parchment, trying to make his lines perfect. Nero always had a knack for it and had memorized most of the fundamental runes Clan Runesmith was famous for.
He was brought out of his reflections when he suddenly placed what runes the dwarves were actually etching. These weren’t ‘reinforcement’ runes at all. Tunnel Collapse runes were etched all over the area. Had they disobeyed Garok, or had he given them different orders?
Naveck’s face must have given away his concern as one of the Rune Crafters paused their work and glared at Naveck. The dwarf had deep brown eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Naveck took the warning and drew a calming breath. Thankfully, Garok hadn’t noticed the silent exchange, keeping rapt attention on the source of the scratching.
Trying not to draw any attention, Naveck began to scoot back slowly. He didn’t want to be caught in the blast radius if those runes went off. He didn’t know if he should shout a warning or not, but he had to believe that the Rune Crafters were acting in everyone’s best interest.
His heart was racing with anticipation and anxiety, the scratching sounded close to breaking through. Garok must have sensed it too as he assumed a more balanced stance on the balls of his feet, gripping the axe more tightly. Soon, the Rune Crafters had caught on and abandoned their work, racing past the sleeping miners.
Garok’s head swiveled at the sight, his eyes red from lack of sleep, “Get back here and finish, you cowards!” he shouted.
As if the reverberation of Garok’s voice had been enough to crack the walls, a leg as black as a crow’s beak and as long as any dwarf, save for Garok, plunged through the wall. The leg was jaggedly serrated, unmarred by its incessant digging that they had been forced to listen to.
Garok didn’t hesitate. His greataxe lit up with runes as he hefted it toward the leg. The enchanted axe cut through the horrifying appendage as if it weren’t even there. A milky substance sloughed out and there was a high-pitched whine from the other side of the wall.
“Help me, ya bastards, or curse your houses!” Garok roared as he swung down on another leg that pressed through.
His words fell on deaf ears as the Rune Crafters continued to flee down the tunnel. Two of them stayed behind, hands held over activation runes, and a grim determination shone behind their eyes.
Naveck ran from miner to miner, physically kicking them into action or helping them up. Although Naveck despised Garok, he knew that he was their best chance of survival if the figurative flood gates opened allowing the monsters to pour through.
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“Garok, get back you fool!” Naveck shouted, watching the Berserker lop off the gigantic limbs as they broke through at new points along the wall.
Garok ignored Naveck’s plea. His Mayhem ability had activated. The greataxe became a blur as the speed of his hands moved faster than Naveck’s eyes could follow. Soon, the wall crumbled, revealing an endless mass of gigantic beetles crawling on top of each other, all vying to be the first to attack the maniacal dwarf.
Rather than becoming overwhelmed, Garok managed to push forward, leaving the limbs and bisected bodies of the monsters in his wake. More of the beetles poured around him, changing targets to the frozen or fleeing dwarves.
Naveck grabbed his pickaxe, trying to will himself to run away. Knees shaking with fear, he glanced over to the Rune Crafters. With a solemn nod, the pair pressed their hands into the activation runes, igniting the tunnel collapse runes that remained scattered along the walls.
The noise of the world vanished. Naveck had expected an explosion of fire and brimstone. Instead, every surface of the tunnel rippled like water and Naveck felt himself get pushed back through the air, away from the beetles and Garok, as if he were caught in a strong current. As he flew backward, he watched all sides of the tunnel seal shut. Some dwarves hadn’t been so lucky to flee or be caught in the same shockwave. Naveck could only watch as his mining mates got lost in the closure along with the beetles.
Garok had still been whirling his greataxe through the sea of giant beetles as the tunnels collapsed. Naveck had wondered if the berserker had pushed on enough to be outside of the collapse radius or if he had been buried with the other unfortunate dwarves.
His thoughts were cut short as he smacked against a surface, snapping into unconsciousness.
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Malik gripped the sides of the Altar for balance while the ground shook. The feeling made him nauseous and unable to focus on anything. The rumbling stopped after a very long minute, followed by a deafening crack that echoed throughout his valley. Still trying to get his bearings, Malik scanned the area with his eyes for where the crack had come from. He couldn’t see anything immediately but went to investigate.
As Malik searched for the source of the event, he wondered if he had chosen the wrong place to build his settlement. If he had any completed buildings, would they have even survived the shaking ground? He wasn’t optimistic about the odds.
His thoughts drifted back toward his conversation with Zahid. He didn’t like that he had been manipulated and briefly considered destroying the Altar. Of course, it would be a foolish decision — ultimately, Malik resigned himself to take Zahid’s words of advice with caution.
A pungent odor drifted into Malik’s nostrils. The scent led him to his small cave and became somewhat overwhelming. Had the squirrel crawled into the cave and died? Malik silently hoped. Activating Camouflage, Malik approached his cave, ready for a fight. What he found instead was a jagged fissure at the mouth of the cave, about four feet wide.
He peeked down and saw only blackness. Much to his relief, the smell seemed to be evaporating. Curious as to how far the fissure went down, Malik picked up a pebble, then dropped it down, listening for it to hit the ground. The pebble disappeared into the darkness of the hole and he couldn’t hear the impact of it touching the bottom if it ever happened.
Malik sighed, realizing that his small cave was ruined, and imagined himself rolling over in his sleep only to fall down the bottomless crack in the mountain.
It was almost dark, but with all of the excitement of the day, Malik couldn’t sleep anyway. He decided to finish collecting the rocks for the Incubation Chamber and perhaps venture out to see what wildlife there was to hunt at night.