R. Salvatore - Archmage

“Have you spoken with any since your arrival?” Zeerith asked. “Out in the forge room,” Jaemas said, pointing past her. “Then you know that I have been off to greet a column of demonic reinforcements. One led by Marilith, who serves. .”

“The archmage, yes,” said Faelas. “He brought her to Menzoberranzan after her defeat at the blades of Malagdorl Armgo, and so shamed House Barrison Del’Armgo, or cast doubts upon the tale woven by their weapons master, at least.”

“Matron Mother Baenre chose Marilith to lead the column above even the goristro that now serves her. .” Faelas started to explain, but Zeerith cut him short.

“To further irk Matron Mother Mez’Barris,” she said with a shake of her head-one that wasn’t full of the glee expected from one of her high station when learning of such diabolical intrigue, but rather, one of disgust. The two wizards didn’t miss it, and they glanced at each other, puzzled. “Help to organize the attack groups,” Zeerith bade her nephews. “Take Hoshtar with you. When the demons engage the dwarves and wound them as I expect, we must be ready to finish the task, and so not allow Gromph and the matron mother all of the glory.”

The wizards nodded.

“That would be wise,” Jaemas agreed, “but first. .”

He let that hang ominously for a moment, until Faelas added, “We have been to the great stair in the main lower hall, Matron Mother, and have witnessed the tunnels directly above it. You have more immediate problems.”

“You are sure it will work?” Kenneally asked Tuckernuck.

The other Harpell nodded. “It won’t be large, perhaps a score of strides to a side, but all who fall through it will float gently to the ground. You know how long I have been preparing this.”

Kenneally couldn’t miss the flash of anger in his tone, or defensiveness at least.

“It is well over a hundred feet to the floor of the lower cavern,” she reminded him, and indeed, Tuckernuck had flown beside her, invisibly, to scout the room, and so this was not new information to him. “Even a dwarf. .” She shook her head and let that unsettling thought hang in the air for a moment. “They’ll be down from the landing to your feather fall field in under a three-count, and will be falling fast.”

Tuckernuck nodded. “I know.”

“How high will you put your magic field?”

“Twice my height, no more,” he answered confidently.

“They will be falling fast.”

“And floating the moment they touch the enchantment,” Tuckernuck assured her. “If we put it up too high, the dwarves will be helplessly floating about in the air for too long.”

Kenneally brushed her long brown hair back from her face. She seemed as if she were about to say something, but cut it short before she made a sound.

Tuckernuck smiled at her reassuringly, even reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “It will work,” he said quietly. “We’ll get five hundred battle dwarves in that cavern in short order, including the whole of the Gutbuster Brigade.”

“I should anchor-”

“No!” Tuckernuck said to his powerful cousin, for indeed, Kenneally Harpell was considered among the greatest of their wizards, with mastery of some of the most powerful spells known at the Ivy Mansion. “No. They will need you in other ways, of course. We’ll find battle soon after the first dwarven boots are on the cavern floor, do not doubt.”

The two heard the rumble of marching dwarves then, and so Kenneally nodded and motioned for Tuckernuck to go and prepare the battlefield. The younger cousin pumped a clenched fist and ran off to find his trio of cohorts. After a short confirmation of the positions and plan, they began checking their components and rehearsing the words of the magical ritual.

The youngest of the group cast a spell of flying on herself, became invisible, and flew off for a quick scouting of the cavern to mark the spot.

The others crouched on the platform, staring, looking for the signal. Tuckernuck flexed his fingers repeatedly to allay his nerves.

Back from the group, through the door and in the hallway, Kenneally stood with Connerad and Bungalow Thump at the head of the dwarven force. “You are sure?” she asked the young king, and not for the first time.

“Will the damned spell work?”

Kenneally glanced back at the four Harpells on the landing and nodded. “I do believe in Tuckernuck, yes. But there might be many enemies waiting for you.”

“Then we’re sure,” Bungalow Thump answered for Connerad. “Ye just get us down there, girl, and get out o’ our way so ye’re not slippin’ in drow blood!”

Out on the landing, Tuckernuck and his assistants cast spells of flying and fell from their perch, disappearing from sight.

“You tell your warriors not to run and leap,” Kenneally warned him. “Just walk off and fall straight down. We marked the spot carefully. Don’t miss it!”

“Aye, we telled ’em,” said Connerad.

“Gutbusters!” Bungalow Thump added. “Crazy as ye might be thinking ’em, none’re fightin’ smarter!”

Behind the two leaders, the next dwarves in line turned and passed down the reminder.

Kenneally led the way onto the platform, lay down, and peered over, awaiting the signal.

“Groups o’ ten at a time, boys,” she heard Bungalow Thump whisper, and the first leap team moved into position. “Three count and the next’re off!”

Connerad and Bungalow Thump were among that first group, and it occurred to Kenneally that if Tuckernuck’s spell didn’t work, his failure would splatter a dwarf king and the leader of the famed Gutbusters all over the stone.

She saw the signal then, a brief pulse of red light, and heard herself saying, “Go!” before she could even think about the grim possibilities.

And so they did, fearlessly, ten dwarves simply stepping off the landing and plummeting blindly into the darkness of a cavern whose floor was more than a hundred feet below.

Kenneally held her breath as they disappeared from sight, hoping, praying, that she didn’t hear a crash. Already the second group hustled into position around her, and before she could be sure the first group had even reached the bottom, those ten dwarves fell fearlessly away.

From the moment he stepped off the ledge, Connerad Brawnanvil feared that he was being foolish, his confidence inflated by the Throne of the Gods and his fine work in the entry cavern up above.

And inflated by the whispers, the young dwarf had to admit. Many were talking about him as the First King of Gauntlgrym, and the fact that he was being considered by some to be worthy of even being mentioned as a possibility for that title along with Emerus Warcrown and Bruenor Battlehammer, overwhelmed Connerad.

Had his pride overplayed his hand?

Those nagging doubts followed the dwarf down into the darkness, plummeting from on high. The cavern was not well lit, with only marginal illuminating fungi nearby, but he saw then the floor, hard stone, rushing toward him.

He noted the Harpells, too, though, the four standing as the corners of a square some twenty paces across, and even as he and several others started to yell out, he noted a shimmer in the marked-off field between them.

Then, before that could even fully register in his thoughts, Connerad was floating, touching down gently a moment later with nine Gutbusters beside him.

“Move out!” Bungalow Thump ordered and the group leaped away, two to each side of the square, with four, including Bungalow and Connerad, at the side nearest the circular stairwell. Barely had they made their positions and caught their collective breath, when ten more warrior dwarves came down behind them, breaking immediately, as practiced, to properly reinforce the perimeter.