Jean Rabe - Downfall

"So the tales say," the half-elf laughed. "You don't believe all that nonsense, do you? Not that it matters none, what with all the gods being gone anyway."

Dhamon shrugged. "When the gods were here, the dwarves considered Reorx the greatest of all the powers. Humans saw him merely as Kiri-Jolith's helper. But the dwarves…" His voice drifted off and again he found himself staring at the pits that made up the image's eyes. "It is said that Reorx's next-greatest creation was the Grey-stone of Gargath, which led to the creation of dwarves, gnomes, and kender."

"So the tales say," Fetch added.

"Greystone. So he made a rock. And did you ever worship this Re-or-ax, lover? You seem to know a lot about him."

"The only vanished god I ever revered was Takhisis," Dhamon answered flatly. He recalled being regaled with tales of the Queen of Evil Dragons from the time he entered the Knights of Takhisis. But none of her priests' old worship halls were as impressive as this place. This place definitely intrigued him, perhaps in part because he still had that tingling sensation. He decided he would look around for a few moments, then head back down the mountain, demanding Donnag relinquish the blade.

"And why are you so terribly certain this place was a temple to Re-or-ax? Not just a palace belonging to some old rich dwarf?"

Dhamon brushed by the half-elf and glanced toward the far end of the chamber, where there was an altar carved to look like a forge with an anvil atop it. Two shadowy alcoves extended behind it. "Aye, this was a temple to Reorx the Forge. Wonder that the Knollsbank folk didn't mention this, especially the mountain dwarves."

Maldred was at the entrance, examining the stone. "Probably didn't know it was here. The rocks are sharp, Dhamon, not worn like they are everywhere else on the mountain and around the other cave openings. I'd say one of the tremors opened this place up, and not very long ago." His fingers fluttered over the edges, drawing back as he cut himself. He licked the blood away and joined Dhamon. "I would guess this hasn't been open more than a month. Feel how dry it is inside here? Despite the rain?"

"It smells old," the half-elf said, wrinkling her nose. "Smells like a musty cellar in someone's house." She stood in front of one of the pillars, fingers tracing the features of a face at eye-level. "Said I had my fill of dwarves, I did," she mused aloud. "But I might make me an exception. Might be something valuable here in this temple to Re-or-ax." She pointed to the image of a dwarven priest a dozen feet above the floor. The figure had chips of onyx set for eyes.

"We shouldn't try to take anything." Fiona was looking at another pillar, this one filled with the broad faces of female warriors. "To defile a temple is wrong. Sacrilege, no matter your faith."

The half-elf cackled and adopted an exaggerated hurt look. "I have no faith. The gods are gone, Lady Knight. So this is a temple to nothin'. Absolutely nothin'. Pigs! I can take whatever I please. I won't be defiling anyone or any-thin'. And there ain't no gods around to come and damn me for it."

Fetch had begun climbing a pillar, using the ears as handholds and the mouths for his toes.

Maldred glanced up at the kobold and shook his head. "Come on down, Ilbreth," he said sternly.

The kobold's head spun in surprise at Maldred using his real name-which he did only when he was very mad or earnestly wanted to get the creature's attention-and the kobold nearly lost his grip.

"Dwarven gods are of no concern to us. We've got giants to find, my little friend, and then…"

Fetch was holding onto an ear with one hand and gesturing wildly with the other. His mouth was open, as if to speak, but his surprise kept the words from coming out.

Dhamon spun instinctively, retrieving his bow in the same motion. He pulled an arrow from the quiver, fitted it, and aimed-at what?

"Thought I saw the cave move," the kobold finally managed to gasp. "I really thought I… there! A giant!"

Something was watching us! Dhamon released his arrow at a huge creature that suddenly came shambling out of the wall. But it wasn't a true giant. It was only a little larger than an ogre, with overlong arms and clawed hands. It looked like it was made of stone.

The creature reached out, batted Dhamon's arrow away before it could find its mark, and snarled ferociously. The creature had the face of an old man, wrinkles looking like cracks in stone, cheekbones exaggeratedly angular, nose long and curved down like a beak. Its eyes were pupiless and dark gray, and its teeth were jagged and shot through with black lines, making them look like shards of granite.

Dhamon immediately set another arrow and fired, this missing the creature by several inches. His hand moved lightning fast as he fitted a third and aimed more carefully this time. The creature's eyes locked onto his, just as Dhamon pulled the bowstring back and released it.

"Damn," he swore, as he watched the arrow glance off the thing's bony-looking shoulder. He dropped the bow and shrugged out of the quiver. "Wasted my coins on this in Bloten. Should stick with what I know." He drew his sword and advanced.

The others were doing the same, drawing weapons and moving in cautiously, studying the creature-the likes of which none of them had seen. They formed a semicircle about it, the creature keeping its back to the wall and eyeing all of them.

"Wh-wh-what is it?" Fetch squeaked from his perch on the pillar.

"Pigs if I know!" Rikali spat. "It's ugly, whatever it is. Probably the giant that's been eatin' all the goats."

"I don't know what it is, but it ain't a giant. Giants look a lot more human than that," Rig mused. "Yah! Over here!" His shout drew the thing's attention. The creature took a step toward the mariner and opened its maw, snarling now like a maddened beast. "I'll gut you like a…"

"Wait, Rig!" Fiona cut in. "We're the intruders here. We shouldn't just attack the beast. We don't know what it is. And we don't know if it truly means any harm."

"You're right," Maldred told her. "I revere life and…"

"Oh, it means us harm all right," Rig shot back. "Just look at it."

The creature stood still for several moments, its head moved jerkily, taking in Rig, Fiona, Maldred, Dhamon, and Rikali. A thick, black tongue wagged out to wet its bottom lip, then it snarled again, and with a speed that seemed peculiar for its malshaped body, it rushed toward Maldred.

Dhamon moved in that instant, too. He was quicker than the stony creature, darting in between it and Mal-dred. "I could use the exercise. I'll take him!" he hollered, as he drew a deep breath, pulled back, and swung. He braced himself, expecting to be jarred for striking the creature's stony chest. But the creature's flesh was soft like a man's, yielding when the blade connected, and the bones beneath crunching from the violent impact.

Both it and Dhamon were surprised. The creature glanced down at the line of dark green blood forming across its middle. It rubbed a hand against the wound and brought its claws up to its eyes, as if to study its own blood. It howled then, long and angrily, and it slashed at Dhamon.

Dhamon barely managed to drop beneath the swipe of its needlelike claws. Then he swung again, connecting with the creature's distended abdomen this time. The creature cried in pain, the sound echoing hauntingly off the cavern walls and bringing a squeal from Fetch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dhamon saw Rig and Mal-dred edge closer. "I said he's mine!" Dhamon called to the mariner. It wasn't that he didn't mind help defeating the creature, he just had no desire to fight side-by-side with Rig again. "Back off!"

"It's your neck," Rig said as he retreated.

Dhamon slid to the side so he would be between the mariner and the creature. It howled once more, remaining fixated on Dhamon, who noticed that the wounds on its chest and stomach had stopped bleeding.