Chapter 1: The Lost Armory
“Why fight it?” the severed head asked, “Trust me, dying never felt so good.”
It didn’t matter that his lips weren’t moving, that there was no throat left to produce such words. Not even the longsword rammed through his chipped, rotting teeth did anything to halt that peaceful voice from echoing from the severed head below Elma. Pinned against the dirt with the glaring light emanating from its eyes, it still grinned wide with joy.
The humored chuckle he produced next only encouraged her to wrench her blade to the side and tear that insulting grin in half.
The upper half of the Dreamer’s head nearly got caught on several rocks before rolling to a stop beside the heavy fur boot of her partner just as he was emerging from behind a jagged wall of stone.
Looking down at it briefly, he looked past her for a moment before narrowing his good eye.
“That the last of ‘em, lass?” he looked past her along the crooked edge of the massive crevice that spread forth from the southern face of Mount Drypeak.
“No worries there.” Elma slid her sword carefully into its scabbard before looking back to him “I suppose you’ve dealt with the other side then?”
“Of course,” he continued his examination of the area “didn't give ‘em a chance to spout their lunacies.”
Keeping her hand on the hilt of her sword, she glanced down to the unmoving body of her recent kill.
“Neither did I,” she pulled the hood of her cloak back “but this one...”
That drew his attention, and he looked down at the corpse just as a white fog began rising from it. The body faded into the mist, rotten flesh and armor coming apart as they slid into it. At the very same time the broken remains of the head were also fading, passing back into the Dream as her partner shrugged.
“Olmerran Plate.” He rolled his good eye before reaching over and giving her a shake “Thought you’d be used to seein’ Dreamer kinsmen by now.”
“That doesn’t make it any less distasteful.” she rolled her eyes before giving a small bow “Though I suppose Yorm the Great would be immune to seeing his former Morgonian brethren bastardized and set against him?”
He narrowed his eye at her, his scarred brows tightening before he sighed and turned away.
“Gotta kill ‘em quick.” He shook his head before approaching the edge of the crevice “Try it next time, not too many places to run once we get inside.”
Coming to his side, Elma gave a cursory glance towards the other side of the crevice before letting her gaze fall down. It was immense, with numerous tiny rope ladders and ramshackle wooden platforms set up along its sides.
An entire mining operation without a single soul to run it.
Pulleys that ferried crates full of rocks were left to sway in the wind, small carts lay abandoned at the bottom of the crevice, and a number of tools were left on certain platforms collecting dirt and dust.
A quick nudge drew Elma’s attention back to Yorm, who was kneeling at the edge of the crevice and reaching down towards one of the rope ladders.
It was painfully small for both of them, and Elma could only barely fit one foot in each rung as they began their descent. Yorm merely used the small ladder as a rope, walking down the wall of the Crevice as they reached the nearest platform.
“I don’t understand,” Elma bit as she struggled to pull her leg free of the ladder once they were grounded “if the Dreamers ran off all the Nurl then why keep their ladders?”
“Maybe we aren’t so late.” Yorm approached the edge of the platform and pointed “Look there.”
Now at a lower height, Elma was able to see a cave at the very bottom of the crevice, tucked away under the mountain. She could also see a number of rocks haphazardly thrown from the cave, piling atop another tipped over cart.
More importantly, there were footprints surrounding those haphazard rocks, fresh tracks leading from the cart to the cave and vice versa. From the small size of those footprints alone, Elma’s eyes narrowed.
“The Nurl are still digging?” she looked to Yorm, who adjusted his eyepatch before standing.
“Or whatever’s left of them are.”
Either prospect made Elma’s blood boil. The Archon’s atrocities were nigh uncountable at that point, but every new crime served well to strengthen her resolve.
“Remember what we’re here for.” Yorm nudged her again “Confirming the rumors. That’s it.”
“If they’ve got them in chains down there-”
“We’ll send for aid once we know if that quake opened anything of worth.” He reached down to take hold of the edge of the platform “They teach patience in the Guard, right?”
He swung himself over the edge, his boots barely making a sound as he flung himself to the walkway below. With far more care for her footing, Elma climbed down the side of the platform, wincing as the wooden structure creaked under her hands.
By the time she’d gotten down, Yorm had perched himself at the edge of the walkway and eyed the cave again.
“See anything?” she asked whilst kneeling beside him.
“Nah, gotta be deeper in.” her massaged the bags under his eyes before nodding towards several rocks jutting out from the wall beside the walkway.
After using them to scale down the rest of the crevice’s wall, the two found the cave’s entrance truly was devoid of all activity. Despite that, there were lit torches affixed to the walls.
The cave had been dug out several yards, only ending at a wide set of stairs which led further downward. Following those stairs, but keeping watch for signs of the Dreamers, Elma and Yorm descended further underground as the sounds of pickaxes soon joined the laughter.
Eventually, they stepped out into a massive, spherical cavern with stairs running around the grand chamber. Directly below the stairs was a large ruin emerging from the bottom. The rocks that hadn't been chipped away practically clung to the pale white walls of the ruin. Golden runes and symbols ran along its walls, still glimmering despite the wear of time.
And chipping away at that ruin were small, gray-skinned creatures. Each had three large fingers clutching mining tools tightly. Every time they swung those tools, fragments and dust blew back towards large goggles that hid their bulbous eyes. Just like their tools, their clothes were in disrepair. Patchwork trousers and coats of torn leather, even many of their goggles had shattered lenses or just missing the lens entirely.
They were primarily focused on the golden symbols that were fixed into the Ruin’s walls, prying and tearing at them with their tools. Some even breaking pieces off with their bare hands when they could.
One winced in pain before wiping his sweaty hand onto the filthy tunic he wore, only for his ache to disappear as he pawed at the ground. Raising a golden piece, he pocketed it with a toothy grin and swung his pickaxe with renewed fervor.
The same which most of the Nurl beside him seemed to mirror.
And cheering them on the entire time were several Dreamers who oversaw their work.
Walking corpses with some only dressed in the tattered rags of peasants and others still garbed in the blood-stained armor of soldiers, their foul appearances only made their gleeful cheers all the more disgusting. Emanating from their eye sockets was the tainted glow of the Dream, spilling forth from their mouths with every cackling laugh they gave.
“You’ve got it!” one shouted, the haunting glow of her milky eyes brightening as she waved her stump of an arm towards the Nurl who’d winced “Keep going! There’s probably plenty more!”
Those words drove the Nurl faster, his eyes frequently glancing towards a large pile of broken metals near the base of the stairs. While much of it was more of the gold lining, scraps of steel and iron were also visible.
“Nurl got shiny?” another asked as she looked up from the other side of the ruin “Nurl want shiny!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The pieces too large to pocket were tossed into that large pile, where two of the Dreamers encouraged several Nurl to examine them with chittering laughter.
Elma’s fists balled up at the sight, with Yorm looking down at her hand before whispering.
“Take it easy…” he whispered.
“I thought they were being tortured.” She spoke through gritted teeth.
“Probably are.” He nodded downwards, “They’re just used to rough-livin’. Focus on their find.”
Taking a breath Elma crouched low at the edge of the stairs, keeping out of sight of those below while centering her gaze on the ruin
Despite calling it a ruin, the structure was in remarkably good shape. A single hole in its roof and two holes that had been dug into its front and side were the greatest signs of damage. The pale stone it was constructed of practically glowed against the dark rock of the cave. Even after the Nurl had torn much of its fancy gold lining away, it still managed to make Elma forget about the choking stale air of the cave and the grotesque laughter of the Dreamers and Nurl.
But even with the gold removed, the symbols it had been used to mark spoke volumes.
Elma picked up on the language they belonged to. Just like that, the irritation of the Nurl so eagerly doing the Archon’s bidding became a distant thought in her mind.
Yorm glanced back to her as her breathing became rough, watching as she stared unblinkingly at the ruin with a bead of sweat making its way down her head. Narrowing his gaze, he nudged her once more.
Her head whipped towards him, only to catch one sight of his glare and turn her attention downward as she steadied her breath.
“Its…” another steadying breath “Its Eelish.”
“Damn it.” Yorm looked back over the edge of the stairs before pushing back until his back reached the cave wall "of all the rotten luck."
He looked up towards the ceiling, balling a fist several times before raising his hand and giving a small wave towards the ruin.
“Guess we found it.”
“Bullminth’s Armory…” Elma slid away from the edge of the stairs before looking up to Yorm “If this is really it, then-!”
“Stop…” he held up a hand “I know what you’re gonna say, so let me remind you that we were just s'posed to confirm the rumors.”
“If the Blade is really locked away in there then-!”
“Culling all these Dreamers at once with only us two?” he shook his head “Not easy. Let’s get word back to the Alliance and-”
“You know how long they’ll take to marshal a force and get this far into enemy territory.” Elma hissed before gesturing back towards the ruin “Even if they just started digging, the Archon’s going to spirit it away to the north the first chance he gets.”
Before Yorm could snap back at her, an applause arose from the bottom of the cavern. They shared a brief glare before moving to peak past the edge of the stairs again.
The Dreamer Overseers were clapping, some slapping broken limbs and rotting stumps together or just stomping their feet in excitement. Two figures were emerging from the temple. One of them was another Nurl, nearly tripping several times on his rumpled coat that was clearly too big for him.
The other…
Elma held her breath as the stale air was rendered forgettable by the icy chill which filled the entire chamber. The Nurl was following behind a Dreamer, her decayed legs floating just above the ground as she emerged from the ruin. The Nurl desperately waved a hand in front of his face to repeatedly clear the green fog which spewed forth from the Dreamer's open torso.
And though her head was lolling back, a blissful giggle occasionally slipping from between her grimy lips, an even toned voice echoed from her open chest cavity.
Inside of which was nestled an eyeball larger than the woman’s head.
“You’re slowing down again.” the Eye stated “Explain yourself.”
“Maltop push Nurl!” the Nurl opened his hands before gesturing around “But Nurl not eat, eat make Nurl good for work!”
“I’ve told you countless times,” the Eye released a heavy sigh “the supplies are due any second now. But further supporters are entitled to payment.”
The Dreamer gestured towards the pile of golden pieces near the stairs as the Eye spoke, “I was certain you desired to grow your Hoard as much as possible. Was I incorrect?”
“No no!” Maltop swung his hands, forcing a wide grin as he clasped them together “Nurl want shinies, plenty as can get!”
“Then the relic must be unlocked before then.” Eye stated, “These conditions cannot be altered.”
Elma had to bite down to keep her breathing silent. She had never before heard the voice of the Archon, but there was only one who channeled his voice through Dreamers like that. Only one who could sprout an eye through their twisted flesh. And only one who could desecrate his hosts in such a manner with such cruel disregard.
The Seventh Scourge himself.
“Yes yes!” Maltop dropped to his knees “Let Nurl use the blasties!”
The Host went still for a moment before leaning forward, with the Archon’s glowing eyeball almost touching the Nurl. Maltop cowered immediately, shrinking under the unnatural gaze of the giant eyeball.
“Last resort… Nurl.” The Archon ordered “Bullminth was a stubborn fool, but his craft was inspired."
“Right, right!” Maltop nodded fervently, breathing easier only when the Eye pulled away.
Elma felt a hand on her shoulder, and let Yorm pull her back before turning to him as he nodded up the stairs
“Did you hear what he said?” she asked, only for Yorm to nod.
“Yeah, they can’t get whatever they found.” He stated “Means we’ve far more time than I assumed.”
“The Archon himself is overseeing this, Yorm.” Elma hissed “By the time the Alliance gets anywhere near here, he’ll have an army of Dreamers and traitors tearing this place apart!”
“Quiet.” He glanced towards the exit before glaring at her “Thought that thing could only be taken by a True Warrior?"
“That’s your defense?” Elma was beside herself “Since when do you believe in legends?”
“I’ll believe whatever stops you from acting a fool.” Yorm growled “We don’t even know how many he’s got inside.”
“We cannot risk him taking the blade.” Elma stated before gesturing towards the hole in the ruin’s roof “We slip in, free it-”
“Dead Nurl, dead Nurl!!!”
Looking back over, Elma and Yorm watched as another Nurl darted from the gaping hole in the ruin’s front. She waved her arms as she shouted, acquiring the gazes of several Dreamers and Nurl.
“Cut down Yollip!” she shouted, “his shinies gone! Thief among Nurl!”
Her words sent the Nurl into a cacophony of voices immediately, questions thrown about the safety of their dig and their precious finds.
“Maltop,” the Archon's Eye turned towards him “Are you truly the foreman of this dig?”
“Maltop fix!” Maltop hopped towards the Ruin before turning to the host “Generous one see! Round up Nurl and-!”
A deep rumble shook the cavern, the muffled sound of a blast far below following as chunks of the ceiling tore free. Elma and Yorm pressed themselves to the cave wall as the Dreamers and Nurl had to struggle not to trip.
“Blasties!?!” another Nurl shouted before scrambling towards the pile of collected metals “Run away! Run Away!”
“Awe, what’s the matter, friend?!?” an armored Dreamer stepped between him and the pile with a bellowing laugh “There’s more shiny stuff for you down here!”
The Nurl backed up, only to glance towards the golden linings of the ruin. He stared, mumbling under his breath until the Dreamer kicked a pickaxe along the ground towards him. Another Nurl had already resumed working, though with far more wild swings. The others followed suit, working with much greater haste while they still could.
“Maltop fix!” Maltop struggled to get back up, only for the Archon’s host to reach down and haul him off the ground by the neck of his coat “Nurl fix-!”
“Yes,” the Eye focused on the ruin as the host released a pleased sigh “you will.”
The host beckoned towards the other Dreamers with a finger. A chorus of uproarious cries rose up as several charged forward to join her as she floated back inside.
Yorm grimaced at the sight, but Elma pushed herself up and began descending the stairs.
“What are you doing?!?” Yorm demanded once he caught up “They’re on watch now!”
“We couldn’t have asked for a better distraction, Yorm.” Elma gripped the handle of her sword. “Before they gather themselves, we recover the blade first."
“Not thinking straight.” Yorm bit, “You need to calm down.”
Elma spun on him.
“The single greatest weapon against the scourge of Altez is being stolen from right under us and you want me to calm down?” she shook her head “I’m not letting him rob us again!”
Turning away, Elma crouched down and eyed the cavern below. More and more Nurl were pleading with the Dreamers, demanding they start moving their metals to the surface for safety.
The Dreamers were amused by their demands, laughing as they gestured for them to continue working on their excavating. A few casual swings of blood-splattered blades and a rusty battle axe were more than enough to dampen the protests.
“If you want to inform Fulgan, then go.” Elma turned back to Yorm and shook her head “But Altez needs this, it deserves this.”
With that said, she turned and pushed off from the edge of the stairs.
She landed atop the roof of the ruin, dropping to one knee and pulling close to the roof as she waited for sounds of alert. She didn’t think the sounds of her leather armor dragging along the roof were loud, but her hand went to the hilt of her sword all the same.
But the sounds of Nurl chipping away or arguing with Dreamers hadn’t changed, even after several seconds of waiting. She pulled closer towards the hole in the roof, ears open for any signs that she'd been spotted.
Only for a hand to press against her shoulder.
She spun around, only for Yorm to press a finger to her mouth.
“Hush,” he looked past her for a moment before whispering “We confirm the relic is the Blade of Bullminth first. Then I leave you to your madness.”
Though he glared at her, Elma nodded with a poorly hidden breath of relief. The initial shock of him managing to get so close without sound was drowned out by renewed ambition. And soon, with Yorm at her side, Elma descended through the roof into Bullminth's Armory.