Markus Heitz - The Revenge of the Dwarves

At that moment the door of the ballroom balcony flew open as a mighty gust of wind blew out most of the candles; only those in glass lanterns resisted staunchly.

A fizzing, crackling object swept through, throwing off sparks, and clanking and clattering as it bounced down from step to step. It looked like two hemispherical iron braziers fused together, but in its center there was not burning charcoal but a strange figure. Stone flags cracked under the weight of the contraption.

The dancers pushed each other out of the way in horror and the guards rushed up with their halberds at the ready to protect the king.

The huge metal globe, a cage of strong iron bands each the width of two fingers, crashed through the crowd, mowing down two of the men; there was the sound of breaking bones. The guards were left screaming in agony.

In full view of the terrified spectators the grim object came to a halt. Locks clanked open and the metal bands folded away, disappearing into a kind of iron sack on the creature’s back.

What the frightened guests had only vaguely been able to see up to now emerged grinning and baring its teeth. It was as tall and broad as an orc, with shimmering gray skin streaked with black and dark green. The creature’s face had a terrifying grace and symmetry that the humans here had heard of in tales of quite another people: the alfar. Sharp ears protruded through the long black hair, and as it drew its mighty sword, it opened its mouth in a roar, revealing a powerful set of pointed teeth.

“Stay back!!” Mallen pushed Rejalin aside and ran over to the king. There was no doubt in his mind that the creature wanted the diamond. The diamond.

He raced to the head of the line of guards who stood in front of their ruler with lowered spearpoints at the ready. Someone quickly handed him a shield.

The prince took a closer look at the strange monster. On its legs it wore a flexible armor covering so that its lower body looked to be made of iron. Chest, upper arms and throat were protected by metal plates with runic decorations: these plates, Mallen was shocked to notice, were fastened directly into the creature’s skin by means of thick metal wire.

“Stone!” it commanded in a voice as clear as glass, thrusting its hand out toward King Nate. The fingers clicked open and reflected the lamplight; like the rest of the creature’s forearm they were covered in metal. Mallen saw the countless bolts and thin rivets holding body and armor welded together.

“By Palandiell! Is the evil one reincarnated?” asked Alvaro, appearing at the prince’s side and holding a sword he had grabbed from one of the injured guards. “Whatever it is, it should by rights be dead. Do you see what it has on its back?”

Mallen took a closer look. It was not a rucksack but a kind of metal box held in place by six long rods piercing the body. The ends protruded from the creature’s chest and were reinforced with crossbeams so that they were not torn out of the flesh by the sheer weight of the metal. No living being could withstand such torture.

“Stone!” it repeated forcefully, stepping forward; an iron shoe landed with a crash on the flagstone, cracking it in half. The runes glowed an intimidating green-all except one. Mallen would not otherwise have noticed it, but it was very different in appearance from the others-namely, elvish!

“What are you?” asked King Nate, who continued steadfastly to hold the gemstone concealed in his hand. “What do you want with the stone?”

Mallen turned round to Rejalin, who had remained out on the dance floor, white-faced as a corpse, staring at the monster. He could read recognition in her eyes. What can this mean? he thought.

Then the monstrosity sprang. Without noticeable effort it jumped over the row of soldiers and landed next to the king; the marble cracked noisily where it came down. Before anyone could act, it had grabbed hold of the monarch, tearing the diamond out of his hands and taking three of Nate’s fingers with it. He screamed and sank to his knees, blood gushing over his hand and staining the costly garments he wore.

Alvaro and Mallen both attacked at once: one from the right, one from the left.

The monster roared and parried Alvaro’s blow with its bare hand. The runes on the armor glowed green, and the creature shattered the descending blade as easily as if it had been made of balsa wood. Then it kicked the officer in the chest so hard that he shot against the guards as if from a catapult, knocking three of them flying.

Mallen was sure at least his own attack would be successful, but his opponent turned with unbelievable speed, so that Mallen’s blade landed on the armored breastplate. The sword thrust was deflected harmlessly.

The response was a flying iron fist.

Mallen ducked and the blow shattered his shield rather than his face. He had an idea how a wall might react to the blows of a battering ram. In spite of the weight of his armor it knocked him over so that he lost his footing and sailed two paces back through the air. He fell heavily against the wall and saw stars dancing before his eyes. “What are you waiting for?” he yelled. “It’s taken the stone! Don’t let it get away.” He threw down the useless shield and launched another onslaught.

By this time the soldiers had been shaken out of their trance and were pinning their hopes on the superiority of their numbers.

The monstrous being thrashed around itself with a captured sword, bringing down one of the men. The rune-glow grew stronger, seeming to give the creature immense power. Picking up its victim by one leg, it screamed and hurled him against the attacking guards, who reeled back in horror to avoid the human cudgel. This provided the monster with the gap it needed to dash through and escape. It had what it had come for. The bloody cadaver of the unfortunate guard was dropped, horribly twisted and battered.

At the stairway Alvaro confronted the fleeing creature; crouched forward in readiness, he brandished his outstretched sword in the direction of the beast. “The face of an elf, the body of an orc and the magic runes of Dson Balsur on your armor; what are you?” he demanded to know.

Mallen raced after the monster, five guards in his wake. He was desperate to retrieve the stone. Alvaro knew he had no chance of vanquishing the beast on his own. He wanted to give his prince time to attack from behind.

But the monster had seen through the plan. It glanced back over its shoulder at its pursuers, bared its teeth, threw down its sword and dashed past Alvaro.

“Halt!” The officer raised his weapon to strike.

The ghastly thing touched him on the head with its left hand; runes flashed and a lightning bolt was released, incapacitating everyone in the room with the dazzling light.

When Mallen could see again it was clear that the intruder had disappeared. Rejalin was kneeling next to Alvaro cradling his head; blood gushed from his throat in a stream impossible to staunch.

The guards bolted up the steps to look outside for the escaped monster, while Mallen dropped on his haunches by the side of his mortally wounded comrade. “No, my friend. Do not let your soul depart.” He pulled off the false gnome mask, took the man’s hand in his own and pressed it hard. He tried to hide the depth of his concern at his friend’s condition so that Alvaro would not realize how close he was to death. Hope was essential. “I beseech you.”

Alvaro attempted to speak, his gaze sliding over to the elf maiden. But he was coughing blood and his croaking voice could not be understood; finally his body fell back and his eyes relinquished all signs of life.

Tears flowed down Mallen’s cheeks. He was not ashamed to weep. He had lost a man at whose side he had ridden and fought through countless battles, against enormous odds-and yet they had always survived. What no orc sword had ever achieved this monster had brought about with a single touch of the hand. “There, you see what has come of your longing for combat,” he murmured as he gently closed the dead man’s eyelids. “You shall not be forgotten. Your death shall not stay unavenged.” He nodded over to Rejalin, who was watching him, compassion in her gaze. “Is it true what he said?”