T Lain - The Sundered Arms

“We are not fighting that thing,” said Lidda. “Maybe instead we can taunt it from a safe distance.”

“Or we could send it a nasty letter,” suggested Devis.

Tordek ignored them both, but he started when Vadania said, “They’re right, Tordek.”

“What? You were the one who brought us here.”

“Yes,” said Vadania. “I still wish to stop the forge, but we cannot fight that thing. Not here, among its allies.”

Tordek looked to Karnoth for another dwarf’s opinion. The graybeard kept his face neutral, as Tordek should have expected. It was his decision to make.

“Very well,” he said. “First we must find a way to get the prisoners out of the forge area. How long until they rest?”

“It is difficult to say,” said Karnoth. “In the beginning they worked us only half the day, but lately they have pushed us harder.”

Tordek turned to Lidda. “Can you slip down there unseen and give a message to the prisoners?”

Lidda considered the chaos below and grinned confidently. “No problem.”

“You know,” offered Devis, “I can help you with that. I know you’re good and sneaky, but would you like to be invisible?”

“Would I!”

Tordek creased his brow in annoyance at the bard’s interruption, but he could hardly complain about his plan. Perhaps Devis was wiser than he looked, for he turned to Tordek and added, “Just say when.”

“All right,” said Tordek. He knew by rights that Vadania was leading this mission, but he felt comfortable in command and had known the elf long enough to realize she preferred the role of counselor to leader. He was just glad that Lidda and Devis also acknowledged his leadership. “Here’s what we’ll—”

Devis grabbed Tordek and pushed him down beneath the balcony railing. Simultaneously, Lidda and Vadania ducked for cover, pulling Karnoth down with them onto the iron floor of the balcony, out of sight from the hallway. With a jerk of her chin, Lidda pointed back toward the door at which they had slain the goblins.

A low voice spoke calmly upon the discovery of the slain guards. “Yupa, go down and alert the troops,” it said. “We have visitors.”

“Shall I go with the quasit?” purred a woman’s voice.

“No,” said the other. “Come with me to the forge.”

Tordek felt the vibration in the iron floor even as he heard the pair step out onto the catwalk from the other balcony. He waited a moment to be sure they were walking away from the corridor, then he peered over the railing, noting that the others did the same beside him.

The male looked like a huge goblin, nearly as tall as an ogre but with the lesser species’ flat nose and prominent ears. It wore steely gray hair pulled back in a neat topknot bound by a comb of gold and rubies. Its skin was a deep, vivid blue, covered by piecemeal armor that showed off muscular arms and shoulders. Down its right arm ran a spiral tattoo culminating in a dark design on the palm. Its left hand was gloved, and the fingers brushed protectively over the warhammer that hung at the creature’s hip. The hammer’s ornate head glowed red and black, like coals in a banked fire.

“Hargrimm,” whispered Vadania. “The barghest.”

With him walked a woman so white she might have been made of lily petals. Her eyes were completely black, so dull that she appeared blind at first glance. She wore a once-fine gown of crushed velvet that might have been blue. Its hem was tattered and worn cobweb thin. She wore two large rings on each hand, and a ruby pendant gleamed at her throat.

They talked as they strode across the catwalk, but their words turned to thunder in Tordek’s ears. He pulled the necklace from beneath his armor and clutched the finger bones so tightly they threatened to burst into powder.

“He has the hammer,” he grumbled.

Vadania put a hand on his shoulder, urging him to sit down, out of sight. “Bide your time, my friend,” she said. “Bide your time.”

Lidda saw the look on Tordek’s face and frowned sympathetically, but then she brightened and said, “Have you noticed how all our enemies come in primary colors lately?”

Behind her, Devis snorted a laugh, and even Vadania smiled briefly. Karnoth looked more surprised than amused, but Tordek felt the choking rage loosen its grip on his heart. Still, he rebuked the halfling. “This is no laughing matter. That fiend devours his foes, who then spend eternity fueling his infernal power.”

“What do we do now?” said Devis soberly.

Tordek knew the bard was making an effort to defer to him, but he couldn’t decide whether it pleased or irritated him. Still, they had to act quickly now that their presence was detected.

“How many of us can you render invisible with your spell?” he asked the bard.

Devis grimaced an apology. “One,” he said. “Two if you ask first thing tomorrow.”

Tordek turned to Vadania.

“I have a potion,” she said. “No such spell, however.”

“That’s only two of us,” said Tordek. “Not good enough.”

“They just came out of that room,” said Lidda. “I bet that’s the last place they’d think to look for us. Besides, who knows what they have stashed in there?”

“Good idea,” said Tordek. “Let’s at least have a peek and wait there until the search party passes by.”

They crept away from the balcony and stepped over the corpses. Before Lidda knelt to examine the door’s lock, Devis whistled a little cantrip and hissed, “Don’t touch it!”

Lidda recoiled, edging back from the door on both knees before looking at the bard for an explanation.

“I think it’s warded,” he explained.

“Can you dispel it?” asked Tordek.

“Maybe,” said Devis. “I have a scroll, but only the one.”

“Hmm.” Tordek considered whether it was worth the expenditure of such a useful spell for a peek inside what might or might not be Hargrimm’s quarters. Again, he turned to Vadania, but she only shook her head no. Before he could make up his mind, a scream rose above the steady clamor of the foundry. They rushed to the near balcony and peered down.

Zagreb pushed the body of one of the dwarven smiths off the spear of the reforged urgrosh. Its surface radiated with a hellish glow as the dwarf’s blood quenched the heat that knitted its axe blade.

Hargrimm stood beside the half-dragon, the glow of his warhammer pulsing in sympathy with its resurrected sibling. He raised the weapon, holding it poised to strike at Zagreb.

The ogre-dragon gazed back unflinchingly. With a shark’s grin, Hargrimm struck Zagreb full on the chest. The blow might have slain a man, but it rebounded from the half-dragon’s chest as if it had been little more than a friendly nudge.

“Do you see?” said Hargrimm. “Now we are truly brothers in arms.”

Zagreb nodded, a smile finally creasing his dour face. He raised the urgrosh and struck back, slamming the keen axe head into the barghest’s shoulder. The blow left not so much as a scratch upon his bare, blue flesh.

Behind them, Sandrine eyed the weapons greedily, but she stood silently, patiently, unnoticed by either of the brutes.

Hargrimm started and cocked his head, as if listening to a tiny messenger beside him. His gaze rose to the balcony, and his eyes stared directly at Tordek, who realized that the tiny, invisible fiend had just pointed them out to its master.

Squinting in their direction, Hargrimm stood straight. Zagreb said something to him, but he shook his head at the suggestion, and the half-dragon took a step back deferentially.

Hargrimm smiled and beckoned at them to come down. Tordek was certain he had been seen, but he gambled that the others were still hidden from the barghest’s sight. With one hand still behind the balcony rail he gestured for them to remain crouched, then he stepped out onto the catwalk.