Mark of the fated 3 a li.., p.26
Mark of the Fated 3: A LitRPG Adventure, page 26
“Because they have been at war with evil and think they still are?” offered Sun. “I doubt they’ve seen a friend in these caverns for quite some time.”
“What do I do?” I asked. My question was answered with a volley of musket fire that chipped the merlons and made me duck out of sight.
“Name yourself!” yelled Abby over the noise of more shots.
I shied away as chunks of stone bounced from my helmet. “Do what?”
“Name yourself! Like Gregor told you in the ship!”
“Of course!” I blurted. Rising to my feet, I filled my lungs and bellowed, “I am named Bane of the Hammerbrow!”
The dwarves responded to the declaration by shooting me. I was knocked back on my arse from the impacts.
“So much for Gregor’s word,” grumbled Sun, dragging me into a sitting position against the wall.
Abby scrabbled on her knees to my side. “I’m so sorry. I thought it would work.”
“Do I order the turret to fire?” asked Cody, desperately.
Before I could reply, the deepest voice I’d ever heard roared from the other side of the wall, ordering a halt. “Who dared name themselves in my presence? Show yourself!”
I rose cautiously to my feet and stared over the wall. “I did.”
The dwarf who’d yelled the question strode though the men. Agnor Kragghewer glared up at me, inches taller and wider than the rest of the dwarves around him. “Repeat your lie, stranger, so I may hear it fully.”
I was in the presence of a king, and I tried to keep my tone respectful. “I’m Mark, Bane of the Hammerbrow.”
Agnor’s swarthy face was furious, his jaw muscles bulging as he ground his teeth. “And how did you come by this impressive title, long-leg?”
“I beat Gregor in a headbutting contest in Tulahr,” I replied.
His dark eyes studied me intently. “You’re the crazy fool he sent word of? The one with the insane plan and dragons as pets?”
“They’re not dragons, but yeah, I’m the crazy fool.”
“And you beat Gregor? Head to head, as it were?”
“I did. It hurt. A lot.”
The dwarven king burst out laughing, as did the hundreds of warriors at his back. When he’d finally gotten control of himself again, he wiped a tear from his eye and looked back up at me. “Aye, it’ll do that alright. That man has a rock where his brain should be, yet you beat him, so what does that say about your head?”
“My rock’s harder?”
He chuckled and nodded. “I’ll say you’re right. He said you were here to aid us. Did you find what was causing this evil to blight my home and people?”
“We did, and they’re now both dead. Again. There’s a mess on your throne room’s floor.”
Agnor’s face darkened. “They defiled my throne?”
“Yeah, but we defiled them back. You won’t face any more danger in your hold. It’s over.”
“Then I owe you a debt I can never repay, Mark, Bane of the Hammerbrow. How about you open this gate and put your glowing eyed contraption away so that I can start repaying you with a mug of our finest ale?”
I smiled down at the grateful king. “I’d be honoured.”
Chapter 32
A couple of the long tables had been carried into the throne room after Victor’s muck had been carefully scooped up and dumped in the nearest chasm. It was around this table we now sat, drinking and making merry with the war weary soldiers and the high king. I imagined it was a reminder of what life had been like before the plague arrived, but to do it outside in the mead hall would only emphasise how many of their kin had been lost.
Boars roasted on spits, filling the chamber with the scent of frying bacon. Dried fruits, hard cheeses, and breads were stacked high on silver platters. Two hot dishes had been prepared; a mushroom and meat broth, and a boiled plum concoction that looked awful but smelled divine. Sun had brewed a fresh batch of coffee, earning her an audience of dozens who tasted the brew with the same delighted zeal she had displayed in Osterland. I smiled to myself when she handed over a sack of beans to our new friends, knowing how much she valued them.
While we dined, divisions of armoured dwarves had marched through Arak’Tor, the name of the capital in which we found ourselves. They were tasked with reinforcing the western hold and cleaning up the mess we’d left in our wake. War machines trundled along with them, unseen, but most definitely heard with their hissing thuds of pumping cylinders.
“We had to destroy the cave that led out of your port,” I said apologetically. “Victor’s minions were trying to sail to the lands of the Barabim.”
Agnor raised his mug to toast us. “Then it seems they too owe you a debt. I’ll make sure they honour it.”
I waved him off. “There’s no need. It’s what we’re here to do.”
“Is stopping my invasion part of why you’re here too, hmm?” he asked, smiling wryly.
“I wouldn’t call it stopped,” I replied. “It’s more a pause. And it was only by your command that Gregor’s fleet held their position. I was relying on your good graces.”
“You had me intrigued before we’d even met, lad. Being able to do what you did on the beach. Your flying dragons. It seems I was right to trust my gut.” He patted his belly for effect.
“And I’m glad you did. The everyday people of Tulahr aren’t your enemy, High King. I can’t say the same for the queen and the nobles, but they’re locked away safely in the Bastion. For now, at least. It’s the average man, woman, and child that are dying to the monsters that stalk the land. Thousands of zombies, sorry, urlach in your language, are already on the march. Other horrors too, but I don’t know what they are yet.”
Agnor stood up and grabbed a fresh tankard. “Walk with me. There are things I would know from you, man to man.”
My party continued to build relationships with our new drinking partners. Abby was halfway into her first mug and already bladdered. Sun helpfully prepared a bed for her under the table, causing some of the dwarves to jump back in shock. Agnor leaned sideways to watch her trick and chuckled. “Aye, I was right.”
We walked out into the not-so-quiet mead hall. Though empty, the sounds of many marching feet echoed through to us from the city beyond.
It was a confirmation of my first concern, but I wanted to check with Agnor regardless. “You’re going to stay here and rebuild?”
“Aye, this is our home. It’s still our home, I mean,” he raised his mug to me again. “Thanks to you, of course. Our invasion was launched out of necessity, and maybe a touch of hatred. Old wounds like the betrayal we suffered fester, lad. They might scab over for a time, but the pus finds its way out in the end.”
“I understand. They did you wrong, there’s no doubt about that. One thing, though. How did you manage to fight your way through to us? I was expecting to face thousands more of your afflicted before it was over.”
“I think we have you to thank for that too. We were besieged in Arak’Low, a smaller hold to the east. We’d been defending the bridge for almost a day against the infected and those bloody spirits while the women and children pulled back. They were close to breaking through, and I almost sounded the retreat. Then, all of a sudden, they just stopped. The spirits wailed and drifted apart like pipe-smoke in a tunnel’s breeze. I swear it was joy I heard in their cries as they faded. My people just sat down, lay back on the stone, and perished. Whatever evil was animating them ended with the monsters you killed.” Agnor’s cheerful demeanour hardened. “I’m just sorry you couldn’t have been here two days ago.”
I frowned. “Two days ago? What do you mean?”
“It matters not, lad,” he replied, sombrely. “What’s done is done. My home is safe, and that is enough.”
“I don’t mean to keep pushing, High King, but you can share your secrets with me. I’m here to help, in whatever way I can.”
“This is beyond anyone, even a warrior as powerful as you.”
It clicked in my mind. “You lost someone?”
Agnor stared at the floor for a while before responding. “My son. Heir to the Bellowing Mountains. Fool boy! I warned him to keep out of the fray, but when do the youthful ever listen?”
“He wanted to make his father proud,” I replied.
“And he did. Always.” Agnor sighed deeply. “The bloodline of the Kragghewers will end with me now. Many old names have been cut out root and stem in this war. Such is the way of things when evil comes to your door.”
It was my turn to pause as I weighed the dangers in my options.
Agnor wiped away a tear, looked up at me, and narrowed his reddened eyes. “What is it, lad?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Probably a terrible mistake if I go through with it.”
“Riddles? Speak plainly.”
“Where’s your son?”
“He was taken to the Tombs of Kings to be prepared for burial. My family have rested there for five centuries. Soon, we will all rest together. Do you wish to attend the ceremony?”
I hesitated again, feeling the dark shadow at my back. Figuring the gift had been given for a reason, I finally explained. “I might be able to save your son.”
Agnor glared at me. “Is this some kind of joke to you? I welcome you into my halls to share mead, and you mock my grief?”
“It’s no joke. I can bring him back to life. It’s just…”
Agnor’s face was going through rapid changes. From furious, to bereft, to hopeful, and back to angry again. “Just what?”
“Did he fall to the plague?”
“Aye. He lay down with his battle-brothers when you killed the lord in my chamber. What of it?”
“I tried healing your people when we first met. It didn’t help at all. The opposite, if I’m being honest. I’m not sure how my spell will affect your son. If it brings him back, I don’t know if he will still have the affliction. I’d hate to make him suffer again.”
Agnor rubbed at his beard. “His honour is intact. He goes to the Forge Realm with joy in his heart and a mug in his hand. Dare I risk angering the gods?”
I remained silent as he wrestled with his own conscience. It was one thing to be a leader. It was quite another to be a father.
“Will the gods punish my hubris if I assent, lad? Will I be cursing my people?”
“I have no idea,” I replied, honestly. “But why would my gods give me these gifts if they weren’t to be used?”
He mulled that point for a while, rubbing at his beard hard enough to have it spontaneously ignite from the friction. “If it should work, you can do it to others?”
“I can, but I won’t. There’s a darkness that follows this spell. At some point, it may well bite me in the arse. Fatally.”
“So you seek to earn my favour alone? Beyond how much I’m already in your debt?” asked the shrewd king.
“I’m going to sound like a dick, but yeah. Sorry.”
“No need to apologise, lad. There’s no sense in angering the gods for a pig farmer. It might be cold hearted, but it’s pragmatic. Let’s say I agree. What does it entail?”
“Bring me to him, and I’ll cast the spell. Please remember that I don’t know the outcome. I’ve never used it before. It might only awaken him, while leaving the affliction in place.”
“And this is where I should be pragmatic and leave my son in the hands of my forebears,” Agnor replied. “Put aside my arrogance in continuing my legacy, and wait to join him at the Everforge.”
“It’s your choice, High King. I’m only the man who can cast the spell, not grant permission.”
His eyes begged me for an answer that I couldn’t provide. With a grunt of anger, he yanked at his beard, tearing a good chunk out. “My son is innocent. If there is a reckoning to be had with the gods, I’ll be the one to have it. Will you try for me? Will you help mend an old man’s broken heart?”
I nodded. “And if the worst should happen?”
“It was my decision to raise him. It will be my responsibility to return him to the mead halls of the Everforge.”
“Are you sure?”
“Gods, no, but I’m going to be a selfish rockwart and play the grieving father. How could I not?”
“I’d do the same thing,” I replied. “And I don’t even have kids yet.”
Agnor nodded towards the throne room and a certain brown-haired beauty.
I chuckled at his knowing grin. “Maybe. In time.”
“I’m happy for you, lad. Now, shall we fetch a ride and go and see if I’m as much a fool as I think I am?”
I was filled with just as much trepidation as the king. We returned to the celebration and I explained what was happening to my party.
“Want us to come with?” asked Cris.
“No. Stay here and relax. If this goes wrong, I don’t want people to see what comes after.”
They all knew what the after potentially entailed and wished me well.
Agnor gathered his personal guard and we left the throne room. A war wagon was waiting for us in the square beneath the mead hall. The thick wheels were steel. The square body was steel. Aesthetics had been tossed aside for ease of assembly. In short, it was an ugly bastard thing. The chimney chuffed out astringent coal smoke that rose to gather on the cavern’s roof. Many other trails were wending their way up from the city’s boulevard as heavy reinforcements moved into position. Like a reversal of the greenhouse’s waterfall, the grey cloud churned and swirled above before being drawn through a natural vent.
Agnor caught me looking skyward. “Better than suffocating, lad.”
I was inclined to agree.
Agnor and I climbed into the troop carrier, followed by his trusted men. The gun ports allowed little light to enter the armoured cab, so I pulled out a halogen lantern from Osterland and set in in the seat next to me. The heat radiating from the driver’s end was uncomfortable to say the least.
Agnor noticed my rapidly beading sweat and shrugged. “Not really fit for a king, but it’s faster than walking.”
He wasn’t wrong. We took off at a rate of knots, spewing clouds of steam that shrieked up through the exhaust funnels. The lack of traction saw us fishtailing as much as moving, but the driver was skilled and kept us from smashing into the homes we passed.
“You’d be better off putting them on rails,” I said, clinging on for dear life.
“Rails…” Agnor mused, stroking his patchy beard. “Interesting.”
“How were the plagued able to force you back?” I asked, then realised how insulting my words sounded. “I just meant with machines like this, it surprises me.”
“Never underestimate the effects of having to fire on people who begged and pleaded for you not to, even as they tried to cleave your head off. The people we fought were kin. Friends. Brothers in arms. And that’s before we get to the blasted spirits and their ability to attack from anywhere.”
“Gregor didn’t know about them. He said their victims were a mystery.”
“Aye, they were until they grew in sufficient numbers. Gregor had sailed days in the past. One of our smaller holds fell entirely to them until we learned to keep the fires blazing hot, at all hours of the day and night. Even though they could no longer touch us, their cries were enough to make a dwarf go insane. We lost many to the chasms.”
“I’m sorry,” I replied.
“You saved our home, lad. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Journey’s end saw us rattle to a stop outside the Tomb of Kings. Agnor and the men gave respect to every statue they passed on the way, bowing slightly. I followed suit, offering my own. We reached the end of the long hall and I hesitated again at the entrance to their sacred burial chamber.
Agnor laid a meaty arm around my shoulder. “Come, lad. You among all deserve to tread these halls with me and my ancestors.”
I allowed myself to be drawn onward.
Chapter 33
Together, we descended, while the guards waited at the rune-laden archway. It was only a short walk down before we reached the burial chamber. I’d been expecting something magnificent, befitting dwarven royalty. It was only a sparse, square chamber, cut out from the rock. I counted twenty-three sarcophagi, topped with the carved likeness of their occupant in repose.
A group of dwarf women were stood deeper in the small chamber, preparing a body. Their robes marked them as servants of the Everforge, covered in small plates of steel that sang a tune as they worked.
“Forgive me, but I thought your family would be bigger.”
“Sadly no, lad. We dwarves live long, and bear few children. It has always been the way.”
It further brought home the losses suffered at Victor and Isolde’s tainted hands. This evil would be long in the recovery. Decades, if not centuries.
I followed the king in sombre silence.
“Sisters, thank you. I’d like to be alone with my son for a while.”
They all acknowledged him with an open hand on their chest and a bow before withdrawing. Agnor stared after them until he was satisfied they were out of earshot.
“I don’t want them seeing or hearing what we’re about to do,” he explained. “If it should go wrong…”
“I wish I could give you a guarantee…”
“No need, lad. The chance is better than I could’ve ever wished for.”
I tried to ignore the horrific condition of Agnor’s son. The sisters had stripped him down and cleaned him as best they could, but the decay had ravaged his body. There wasn’t really anywhere the skin was unblemished, and I wasn’t about to turn him over to search the back.
“He looks peaceful,” said Agnor, lovingly stroking his son’s cheek without concern.
“What’s his name?”
“Glorrin.”
I took my cue and touched the corpse’s foot. Resurrection was cast and I backed away, staring at all corners of the room for Mr Reaper to come charging at me. No scythe wielding skeleton appeared, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“God’s have mercy!” Agnor cried when Glorrin started to thrash on the slab. He pulled out his axe, preparing for the worst.
