Master Novice - Part 07

"Hank!" Diana waited for a few seconds, then repeated herself, yelling over the thunder of the pounding hooves. "Hank!" Still no response; Hank just stared straight ahead, intent on the ridge ahead. "Hank, goddammit, if we don't give the horses a break we're going to kill them!"

Hank turned his head and looked at her for a few seconds, and then he looked down at his horse. He considered for a moment then said, "First we cross the ridge. Then we all rest."

Diana nodded and fell back to where she had been riding, next to Eric. He glanced over at her and asked, "Any luck?"

She nodded. "Over the ridge."

Eric shook his head. "You know, it's going to be an awfully long trip if we have to walk home."

Diana grimaced. "I said as much to him, but I guess he's more concerned with putting distance between that town and us."

Eric nodded. "Can't say I blame him."

Diana looked at Aurora, riding behind Natasha, clinging to her. "Do you think Aurora's going to be okay? She hasn't spoken a word since we were inside that temple."

Eric shrugged. "I don't know - that's something that only Robert could really answer."

Diana sighed and nodded. "I know, I know..."

Two hours later, Natasha, Diana and Hank were standing on top of the ridge, surveying the path they had taken from the town.

Diana said, "I don't see anything."

Natasha said, "That's what I've been trying to tell you! We're not being followed. There is no 'vengeful group of evil priests' racing to catch up with us, no mob of angry townsfolk with torches in their hands and hatred in their hearts." She looked over at Hank. "Nothing. Besides, most of those 'evil priests' are dead, remember?"

Hank shook his head. "I'm stumped. I thought that they surely would have wanted to at least retrieve us for torture or execution or something."

"Apparently not," replied Natasha. "I'm going to get some sort of dinner started." She headed back toward the camp.

Hank continued scanning to the horizon, where he could just make out the town they had fled from. "Something's not right, dammit. Tiamat's worshippers surely should have sent some kind of group after us."

Diana shrugged and turned toward camp. "I guess not. Come on, let's get some food."

Hank took a final look at the horizon. "Our escape was too easy."

Robert looked up at the sound of footsteps. "Hey, Hank - look what we found."

Hank looked at the cave entrance. "An old cave. We've seen dozens of these. So what?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, look at the walls. This isn't natural. It's too smooth, too uniform." She rested her hand against a rock wall. "I'd say this might be the entrance to some old mine."

Hank looked around, taking in the ancient stonework. "So, shouldn't we leave it alone, then? I mean, if it's a mine, then somebody obviously owns it, and would probably not appreciate our presence here."

Natasha shook her head. "Well, no, I'd say it hasn't been used in some time - look at how thick the dust is, and there's no tracks here except ours."

Eric voice came drifting out from the back of the cave. "Hey guys, c'mere! Look at this!"

He was standing over what appeared to be a sinkhole. "Check it out."

Hank looked into it. "Hmm. Great. A hole."

Eric smiled. "Ah, but it's not just a hole. Take a look." He pointed his lantern into the hole, revealing a rotting wooden ladder. "Where there's a ladder, there's another floor."

Diana peered down the hole and said, "Tell you what, Eric - YOU go first."

"Uh... sure - just give me your rope." Everyone watched as Eric tied the rope around his waist. "Here Hank, hold onto this. I don't trust the ladder to not break under my weight." He pulled on the rope a few times, then said, "Okay, Hank - one pull means more rope, two pulls means stop, and three pulls means back. And, uh, anything more than three means back quickly. Same with a long continuous pull - 'cuz that'll mean I either fell down a hole, or I'm in the process of being dragged away by something."

Opening his lantern wide, Eric started down the ladder.

As Hank let the rope out, he wondered what would be at the bottom of the hole. Probably just an empty mine. But there was always a chance...

Eric's voice came drifting up. "This looks like a natural cavern that's been expanded by hand - it's pretty big. I can only see one wall from here."

Natasha slapped her forehead. "Silly me - should've cast a light spell."

Diana called down, "How's the ladder holding up?"

"Okay, so far - it's sturdier down here than right at the top."

After a few minutes of silence, Eric's called up, "Okay, I'm down. There's a skeleton down here - I'd guess it to be the owner of the place." He paused for a moment, and then continued. "Looks like he died of a broken neck. LOTS of broken bones. I'd say he fell off the ladder from pretty high."

Hank called down, "Is there anything of interest down there?"

Very faintly, they could hear Eric walking around, and the pinpoint of his light moved a bit. "Not that I can see. I don't see any tunnels leading out of... wait a sec. I found something."

Robert yelled, "What is it?"

"A door."

Robert straightened up, stretching his back. "Well, it's definitely of dwarvish origin."

Hank leaned against the bare rock. "Can you read it?"

Robert wiped his hands on his robe. "Just one - this one, here and here, is 'warning.'"

Natasha leaned forward and brushed some dirt from the ancient runes carved next to the door. Rubbing it between her fingers, she said, "I can read them." Everyone looked at her, and she continued, "Well, it's not like being able to read ancient dwarven runes is a common dinner-time conversation subject."

Hank shook his head and said, "Okay, then, what do they say?"

She pointed at the first rune and said, "This one means 'all creatures' - usually means all non-dwarves. The next one is 'enter.' This one is 'location' or 'place.' Like Robert said, this one is 'warning.' This is 'enter' again, but negated - meaning 'don't enter.' This one doesn't quite have a common equivalent, but is usually translated as 'this is.' The next is 'entering place'- entrance. This means 'kingdom.' This one is... um..." She paused for a moment, frowning at the carvings. "I'm not too sure what these next few are. I'd guess it's probably the name of the kingdom."

She wiped more dust from the next few runes, then continued. "This is 'all creatures' again, followed by another 'enter,' and this is a negated 'invitation.'"

Eric asked, "A negated invitation?"

Without looking away, Natasha replied, "Probably means without being invited. This here is 'effect' - it's very general, has a lot of uses. This one is 'consequences.' And the final three are a past marker, meaning this sentence refers to the past... 'you,' meaning whoever is actually reading the warning - that is, us - and another 'warning.'"

She looked over the runes again, then read, "'To all who would enter this place, a warning: Do not enter, for this is the entrance to the kingdom of...' and I can't read the name." Pausing for effect, she continued: "'Any who enter without invitation will suffer the consequences. You have been warned.'"

Eric wiped his hands and said, "Well, that's good enough for me - let's get out of here."

Hank said, "Whoa, wait. I think this would be a good place to set up our camp."

Eric stared at him incredulously. "You CAN'T be serious. There's a door telling us to go away, for Pete's sake, and you want to CAMP here?"

Natasha interjected, "Actually, Eric, all it says is 'do not enter,' not 'do not stay around and ignore the door.'"

Hank snickered. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

Eric looked back and forth from Hank to Natasha for a moment, then threw his hands in the air and turned away. "Fine! Fine! We'll stay here, I guess. But when we get carried away by the dwarven guards, I'm going to rub it in your faces that I TOLD YOU SO!"

Everyone was settling down in front of the fire. Eric paced back and forth, too anxious to relax. They had just finished their evening meal of charred jerky and dried fruit when they all heard a loud thud that apparently came from behind the large door. This was followed by a second thud, incredibly loud in the large cavern.

Everyone sprang to their feet, hurriedly getting their weapons out or preparing spells. As they waited, they heard the sound of something heavy sliding against the door.

The door opened a crack, and a helmet on the end of a sword was thrust through the opening and waved about for a few seconds. The helmet and sword disappeared back into the darkness beyond the door, and they faintly heard a voice say, "De dur Armondu." Natasha quietly translated: "That was 'Go get Armond,' presumably their representative to the outside world."

Hank asked, "Dwarvish?" Natasha nodded.

After a few minutes of tense silence, they heard another voice from behind the door. It reminded them of gravel being swirled in a bowl. "Put down your weapons. We mean you no harm."

Hank lowered his bow, releasing the mystic energy harmlessly, and said, "Points down, people, but eyes open." Turning back to the door he called, "We won't attack except in self-defense. Please show yourselves."

The door opened a bit more, and a head peeked out for a second, then withdrew, and they heard the first voice say, "Reuf tyaunimo usachuym zos ghekkut." Again, Natasha translated: "Their weapons are down but still out."

The second voice replied, "Hmm. Tab jot vio yezug Janen."

Natasha said, "'Such is the way of Man.' That's an old saying among dwarves that do not venture into our world."

The second voice called out, "Epf gushu'uf si'etup vu'u, Janen! Uris vio fu'us!"

Natasha didn't translate, just blinked. Hank said, "Natasha...?"

She said, "He says that the say that for a reason, and he wants ME to open the door."

"Is that good?"

She smiled and said, "Well, it's not bad. It means that they will trust us if I will trust them first. In this case, it is safe for me to open the door, but I must do it very soon, else I insult their integrity as dwarves, and they will lock the door. So..." she stepped toward the door. As she grasped the handhold carved in the door, she said, "Everyone keep your weapons down, no matter what," and pulled the door open.

Inside were four short men, each about four feet tall and thickly bearded. They all wore a sort of leather apron. One of them stepped forward and with the second voice said, "Aye, keep your weapons down indeed. 'Tis hard to talk peace with the point of a sword pointed at ye."

He paused long enough to look at everyone in the group, then spoke in what sounded like a formal speech. "Armondro te, rolit gusviot tusa. Va eso sga rolit ug eso Goshe ug Tvupi-Jennos."

Natasha translated: "He is Armond, spokesman for this clan. They are the clan of the Forge of Stonehammer."

Hank said, "Okay."

Natasha said, "Now you have to identify who you are and who this group is."

Hank replied, "But you're acting as spokesman... er, woman, for us. Shouldn't you introduce yourself?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm already the translator." She looked him in the eye. "You ARE the leader, aren't you?"

He shrugged, then turned toward the dwarves. "I am Hank, leader of this group by general consensus. Six of us are not originally of this realm, and the other two we have rescued from bugbears. Our group has no name."

Natasha was looking at him incredulously. "Not.. of.. this realm...?" She shook her head, as if to clear it, then turned to the dwarves. She started a speech that started very similarly to Armond's, then faltered, paused, and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't know how to translate that."

"It's okay, child, I heard him fine. You bear no load." Armond addressed the group. "As spokesman for our people, I bid you greetings, planewalkers. It is always good to hear of folk rescued from those hordes of addle-coves. I see that you had planned to camp in my people's cave tonight. Normally, we would eject you, but since you have one with you that speaks the True Speech, and have rescued her and another from the bugbears, I ask that tonight you eat at my table and take refuge in my home, that we may share tales."

Diana spoke up. "What about our horses?"

Armond had a quick conversation with one of the other dwarves, then asked, "Where are they?"

"We left them tied to the trees outside the mouth of the cave."

Armond spoke to the other dwarf for another few seconds, then the dwarf jogged off toward the ladder. Armond said, "They will be cared for, this night, within our community."

Robert asked, "Are you the, uh, chief of this clan, Armond?"

The dwarf smiled. "No, I am not chief. Under other circumstances I might have been, but we are ruled by our Prince, who is second only to his father the king. Long ago, when our clans were small and fragmented, my family produced the best and most chiefs. But many centuries ago, we were united into one great kingdom by the great-great-grandfather of the king, and my family forfeited the chieftainship; now we are the clan's spokesmen. Thus it has been since before my grandfather was born."

He spoke to the two remaining dwarves, who rushed into the darkness. Within minutes, they reappeared, pushing a large cart in front of them. Armond spoke again. "If you desire, you can load your possessions into this cart, rather then repacking everything, and we shall go to my home, where we can exchange tales over a good tankard of the finest mead, or ale if you have coarser tastes."

Within an hour, they found themselves inside the dwarf's home, being served some of the best meats and breads they had ever tasted by Armond's wife. They all ate gratefully, having had only jerked meat and dried fruits for a number of weeks, broken only by what little game they could hunt down.

After the meal, they remained seated at the table, finishing their drinks. Finally, Armond spoke. "So, planewalkers, you said that you are not of this world. You seem very well-adapted for temporary residents."

Sheila replied, "We're not exactly temporary. We've been stranded here for over twenty years."

The dwarf stroked his beard. "Stranded, eh? Then I take it that you are not here by choice?"

Hank said, "Well, no, not by choice, but some of us, at least, would probably not return to our home world, even if we could."

Armond sat back in his chair for a minute, not speaking. Finally he asked, "May I hear your tale?"

Hank looked over at Sheila, who turned to look at Eric. After a second, everyone turned to Preston. Hank said, "Presto, this is your arena."

For a moment, Preston just sat and drummed his fingers on the table. "Before I begin, you must understand that though I am a wizard here, in our world there is no magic."

Armond's wife looked surprised. "None at all?"

The mage shook his head. "None. My place there was that of the runt, the underdog that was the butt of the joke. As such, my memories may be a bit... *clouded* by the unpleasantries I experienced on a regular basis."

Armond nodded. "I understand."

"Very well." He paused, seemed to gather himself up, then began his tale: "Our story begins with a mechanical device, used for rapid movement and especially entertainment. Very similar to the carts and rails your people likely use in the routine mining, but very fast. On Earth, we called such devices 'roller-coasters'..."