Markus Heitz - The Revenge of the Dwarves

When she thought how many cycles the fortress had stood, and the neglect it had been subject to-the dilapidated condition she and King Bruron had found it in-then she could really be quite pleased with the work they had done here. The outer walls, laid out in a star shape, were twenty paces high and had been repaired and topped out with sturdy new battlements. It had been a masterwork to replace the crumbling stones without any walls collapsing. The humans had not thought it would be possible. She, the dwarf, had shown them what was what.

She had decided to pull down the ruined towers, with the weathered stone broken up for use as missiles, piled now on the top walkways and in heaps next to the catapults. The walls were high enough to serve without towers, but she had put up ramps to use for the spear-throwers.

She was surprised how easily the humans were satisfied with the work. The critical eye of a dwarf would have been much more demanding about standards. She was determined to get Paland into a state that made even the elves praise the speed at which the work had been completed. Not its beauty but the speed and thoroughness of the work.

So far only one of the remaining diamonds had arrived safely in the fortress. Queen Wey and her soldiers were already here. The messengers sent out from the other groups heading for the fortress were keeping the commanders informed of their progress.

It looked as if Sangpur’s jewel would be the next to arrive. It would be placed in a room with walls many paces thick. Balba had had the roof reinforced and had put in extra supporting pillars.

Even the comet that had once hit the Outer Lands would not destroy this granite armor.

The dwarf directed her steps to the walkway that faced south. She wanted to see the size of Queen Umilante’s force approaching from the hot desert lands, the army protecting her diamond.

As she stood on the battlement walkway taking a drink of water from her flask, an armored elf came up to her. “Greetings,” he said.

“Greetings.” She knew that he had arrived with the two-hundred-strong contingent sent as an advance party from Alandur; other soldiers would follow.

Apart from them there were a thousand fighting men from Weyurn in the fortress. The rest, a further fifteen thousand infantry and two thousand mounted troops led by Prince Mallen, were advancing swiftly toward Idoslane to storm Toboribor and to destroy the unslayables and the monsters in those caves. Now that they had shown themselves, there was finally something to attack.

“Sitalia has sent us a fine day,” the elf addressed the air as he looked down toward the wall beneath them. “The goddess looks after her own.” He took off his helmet, letting his pale gold hair shine on his shoulders.

Balba took another gulp of water and put the flask down. “Sitalia looks after the elves, so she’ll only send the fine day for you guys. The humans are giving thanks to Palandiell and we praise Vraccas. That’s the way of it,” she said amicably. She pointed over to the right where the sun was going down. “The day’s not over yet.” She looked at the white metal armor. She had never seen it before. The elves were all in new clothing, all two hundred of them, in white and pale colors, a dazzling sight in the sunshine. Their new appearance reminded her of something, but she couldn’t think what.

“You are right there, Balba Chiselstrike of the Stone Teasers,” responded the elf apologetically. “I wanted to praise the work you have done here. It is excellent. The diamonds will be safe here.”

She nodded in acknowledgment and gave a shy smile. “Would you like some?” She offered her flask.

The elf stretched out his armored hand and took the bottle. “Thank you.” He sniffed at the contents first to find out what he would be drinking, then placed the opening to his lips-and froze. “By Sitalia!” he whispered, pointing south. “Do you see what I see?”

Balba looked where he was pointing.

The escort force for the diamond had appeared between two hills and was passing a wood whence an attack was being launched. The girl saw a huge black monster capering around amongst the tiny forms of the soldiers, swinging a scythe-like weapon; from time to time green lightning bolts shot out, and where they hit home men fizzled to steam where they lay.

“The unslayables have tricked us! They aren’t in Toboribor. They have sent their evil misshapen devils here to steal the diamonds before we can place them in safety.” The elf dropped the flask, ran down the steps and put on his helmet as he went, calling out in a language Balba did not understand.

The elf troops rushed to their white horses and thundered out through the southern gate to support Umilante’s soldiers. A handful of their messengers were setting off in other directions to warn approaching groups of dwarves and humans of the acute danger.

The fortress commander had the gates shut and called everyone to arms.

“I said the day wasn’t over yet.” Balba was faced with the prospect of a battle. She was not bad with a cudgel, but didn’t really consider herself a fighting champion. Now, under cover of the uproar, she left the battlements and went off to hurry her workforce through the remaining tasks while there was still light.

Unexpectedly there was a commotion at the eastern side of the fortress but Balba remained at the construction site until the humans had completed their work to her satisfaction. Any faulty workmanship would reflect badly on her family and her clan. When all was done she hurried back up to the battlements, shield in hand.

A cloud of dust was making for the eastern gate.

And whatever was creating the dust was moving extremely fast. Too fast to be a human, an elf, a dwarf, a beast or an animal.

“What happened to Umilante’s troops?” she asked a soldier nearby.

The man had gone pale and was clinging to the shaft of his spear. “They’re all lying out there by the hills and they’re not moving.”

“And the elves?”

“Gone. Swallowed by the monster,” he whispered and gulped with horror.

The sun had gone down and Gauragar was plunged into the half light preceding the dark of true night with its stars.

Torches blazed all round the fortress, chasing away the frightening shadows. Men ran out to bring up the wooden drawbridges and to set alight tar and brushwood piled in the moats. The first line of defense was in place.

Balba heaved one of the rocks onto the battlement wall, ready to cast it down on the attacker. She quickly scratched her initials into the stone, grinning with excitement.

Fifty paces in front of the gates the thing halted in the middle of the roadway, having advanced with such speed. It showed itself to the defenders of the castle. The surrounding veil of dust was carried off by the heat rising from the blazing moat. The image that appeared was a mixture of monster and machine.

From the hips up it was like the other monsters, a bastard hybrid of orc and alf or worse, and covered with a solid armor plating of tionium. There was not a single glimpse of bare skin to be had. Everything was protected by the plates of resistant material from any attack with arrow or missile. Only the face within the open visor showed the armor contained life.

But where legs would normally be there was a large black block, two paces high, two paces wide, and three paces long.

The sides of the block were rounded and the shiny black surface was sloped so that liquids-blood, water or whatever-would run off quickly. Balba saw the surface had openings and flaps hiding any manner of deathly surprises. Round about there were sharp spikes of tionium as long as your forearm. On the bottom of the block were the large wheels used to propel the hybrid along so swiftly using some invisible power-source inside the block.