Chapter 117 First Casualties
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Thor and Ugrek managed to shake off their numbness, and their hands were still shaking, but they could wield their axes again. Rhegar seemed to have recovered fully and was able to practice his swings while holding his shield.
"Alright! A good night's sleep seems to have done wonders! We need to get to that river now! Rhander is at his limit with his water magic. We need to replenish!" Rhegar smiled, and Helmet cheered in agreement. The group moved slowly towards the river, still only half-recovered from their previous ordeal, but thankfully they weren't attacked this time.
"Finally! We've reached the river!" Rhander shouted, and the group erupted in loud cheers.
Rhander was relieved that the team had finally reached the riverbank. If they could rest here for just two days, they could be back in top shape. The group immediately set to work, chopping down trees, collecting water, and boiling it. They also built shelters to prevent the light from the fire from being seen outside.
"Finally, some luck at last!" Thorek and Ugrek smiled as they drank from the river, ignoring Rhegar's chiding about boiling the water to avoid stomachaches. More dwarves joined them, mimicking their behavior, and they didn't seem to care that the river was a little muddy. They were oblivious to the dead tree branches that appeared to be inching closer to them.
Rhander was more tired than thirsty, so he didn't join the dwarves playing on the riverbank. Elves had a lot of pride, and Rhegar refused to drink water from the river without boiling it first. However, the group was still very close to the river, and an ambush from the water could be dangerous.
"Watch out. The river is a bit muddy, and we don't know if there are any monsters in it," Rhegar warned the group, but they ignored him.
"It's fine! Even if twenty fishmen come, we're wearing full armor! It won't penetrate our prided dwarven-steel!" They clanked their gauntlets against their breastplates proudly. Rhegar smiled, as he was also eager to have the camp up and running.
"AHHH!"
"They've got Leghorn!" the dwarves shouted in panic. Weapons were drawn as everyone turned their attention toward the river. Enormous alligators had surfaced from the water and dragged the hapless dwarves, whose names Rhander didn't even know, into the depths before anyone could react.
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"Wait! Don't go into the river! There might be more of those monsters!" Rhegar shouted, but it was too late. Two more alligators lunged from the wide and deep river, targeting him and another dwarf. Rhegar swung his shield with all his might, smashing the alligator's jaws away from his head. The elite dwarves followed suit, using their axes to bash the alligator's head as it bit down on Thorek's leg. The alligator released its grip and retreated back into the river like the fishmen had done earlier.
"Leghorn!" Helmet shouted, but Rhegar stopped him.
"Wait! There might be other enemies!"
The other dwarves nodded in understanding. Attempting to save Leghorn now would be suicidal, as more alligators could ambush them. They regrouped at their base camp, and Rhander set about lighting a fire and organizing their camping equipment. Several hours later, the base camp was complete, with a simple shack for sleeping and bonfires for warmth. Rhander took pride in his work.
Rhander then went to meditate. Although he hardly knew Leghorn, he felt guilt spread through his body at the realization that he could have saved him if he had spare feystones. He could have used ice or rock spears to pin the alligator down while others rescued Leghorn from its jaws. But what was done was done, and another elite soldier had fallen. Rhander could only find solace in filling his feystones.
Rhegar continued to boil water for the group as he watched Rhander replenish his feystones. The other dwarves were somber, holding onto their axes tightly. Rhegar was about to chide them for not staying alert, but he understood their grief. He let them be and focused on providing water for the group.
"I apologize, but please stand guard for the night. At least for a few hours," Rhegar said, drunk with exhaustion. His eyes could barely stay open, as he had been on full-time watch yesterday and hadn't gotten any sleep. Helmet and the other guard were in a similar state, so Thorek, Ugrek, and a few other dwarves volunteered to keep watch. Despite being legless now, Boord insisted on doing watch duty, refusing to be a burden.
Rhegar then lay down on his bedding, nodding to their suggestion, with Helmet falling asleep beside him. Despite his exhaustion, Rhegar's eyes refused to close as he replayed the scene in his head.
"I'm sorry. I should have guarded them better," Rhegar muttered.
"Don't be sorry. They were all dwarven warriors. All we can do now is tell their story," Helmet said. "Now I'll tell you about Leghorn, my right-hand man and the guy who kicked a salamander with his legs. I don't know who else will die before we get out of here, but those who make it out alive need to tell the tale of those who didn't."
"Please do tell me about Leghorn. I'll make sure to memorize it and write a book about it. He will be remembered as a hero forever," Rhegar pleaded. He found it intriguing that dwarves and elves were more similar than he had thought. While dwarves preferred oral storytelling to written ones, they still preserved their heroes in their own unique way, just like the elves with their various history books and heroes in them. Rhegar already pictured a book about his adventures with Lord Alistar and the group of twenty-two, a grand raiding party delving into the deepest dungeon.
"Sure. Leghorn was born in..." Helmet began his rambling, and Rhegar realized that the other dwarves were also sharing their own memories of Leghorn with each other, except for Rhander, who was now busy filling feystones.