Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Hakaar - Chronicle 13.1 - Poulterhaud Mining Company

The places I find myself. It’s been mere weeks since I signed on with Bròmm as his bodyguard. There’s something to say about that, these men know how to handle themselves, but they seem to prod for more trouble than one might rightly say would be worthwhile.

That being said, it’s trouble I’m glad to participate in and I'm loving every minute of it. Fiery sorts, these gentlemen, and well connected. I find myself sitting back and watching as they spar among each other like the old friends they are. Danin seems to do the same as I: sit and observe, but with calm intensity—a very Dwarven thing to do.

Sig wanted to go back to the place when I had originally joined the party, the stinking Dwarven mine. Literally, it stunk like rotten eggs to the point where you had to wear these masks with alchemical filters to keep the stench at bay. Sig had explained that this was Sulfur, an essential component to gunpowder. I had shrugged, I guess it was good information. There were two problems with these masks: first, were built for the Dwarves and, second, they were decades old. It wasn't always a guaranteed seal, so you just had to get used to it.

The mining pit was enormous. It was a good hundred paces per side and deep enough to make one queasy when looking over the edge. The Dwarven construction still stood and stood firm. To my dismay, though, everything was Dwarf sized, meaning I spent most of my time hunched over traversing the stairways and outbuildings. This couldn't be healthy. Danin seemed to have a somewhat pleased expression on his face. He was in a place built by his people and it fit him perfectly.

The statue, one we had seen before, was leaning against the wall holding something in the cliffside. The statue itself was a marvel. I couldn't imagine why the Dwarves would spend so much time creating a statue to seal something in. Seems like far more effort than any reasonable being would take, even many motivated Dwarves.

I climbed across the brow of the large statue and found the hole being covered. I set a rope with pitons and the others followed me past the roosting seabirds and into the cliffside. The floor edge of the tunnel was lined with ceramic tubes piping the yellow exhaust from deeper. As we went deeper, the smell changed from rotten eggs to just plain rotten. The smell of sulfur hadn’t completely abated, but blended with the sticky sweet smell of rotting flesh. At the edge of my vision there was a sight I couldn't explain. A fleshy husk covered in scales and—wait, were those wings? The shimmering scales glistened a thousand lights back at us as Sig and Danin picked up stones and made them glow. Sig touched a arrow from Floki’s quiver to light up the fletchings so they stood over his shoulder.

Ah, the plight of humanity. Nightblind and vulnerable. I swear I could feel my Orcish ancestry grinning at me from the great beyond and I nodded respectfully. It’s a wonder they ever survived.

We fanned out into the cave. The long dead dragon seemed to only recently be exposed to the air to start the rotting process anew. I was glad to see the one time I encounter a mythical beast like this that it was quite dead. It lay on it’s stomach, skin peeled back around the ribs showing large clusters of fungus growing in the hollow. We were all wary, the cave was warm and seemed to press in on us. The walls and floor were deeply scored with claw marks raking holes on any available surface. Mine carts and mining tools were tossed around like giant broken toys. Floki let out a small strangled noise and tossed his bow on the floor out in front of him and said, “A snake! My bow turned into a snake!”

I was incredulous, I went to where I heard his bow clatter to the ground.

“Hakaar, behind you!” Danin called out. There was a brutal ripping sound as the rump of the dragon rose up, tearing itself away from the rest. It seemed to lean away then rocked into me. I had braced when I saw it move, but it still knocked the breath from me. I felt a cloud of dust settle on me and start to sting my skin. Danin rounded on my side and put a glowing hand on me. I still wasn't exactly used to it, but I trusted him. He drew his axe and prepared to face off.

My anger took over, I was focused on the mushroom behemoth ahead of me with the skeletal remains of the dragon dangling off of it. It landed blow after crushing blow against me. The boiling in my blood made everything seem so far away. In that distance I could hear gunshots from Bròmm, panic from Sig and Floki, and saw Danin take a lethally large chunk from the monstrosity. I did my fair share of carving, but it was Floki that had recovered his bow and sunk the fatal arrow. The hulk buckled and slumped back into place. Still enraged, I continued to chop at the inert mound, scattering the minced pieces then crushing them. I calmed, taking a deep breath. I grinned through the pain, I hadn’t felt that way in a very long time. I wouldn't be surprised if I had a cracked rib. I could definitely taste blood in my mouth.

Danin laid a glowing hand on me again and I felt considerably better. I had seen the clerics work on the battlefield or in the camps, but I hadn't personally and directly benefit from it like this. I thanked him and he nodded in is cool and assured way.

Things quieted down and the effects from the spores subsided. We looked at the cavern we were in, to make sure all threats were taken care of. Everyone seemed no worse for the wear. Bròmm spent some time fixing his rifles and Floki picked up his axe, looking it over carefully.

“Look over there,” Sig nodded toward bobbing his head toward another body nearly covered by the dragon’s carcass. A backpack, a shield and well worn armor with several teeth-sized holes in it.

“He’s got some magic on him.” Sig bent down and removed the surprisingly intact backpack from the unsurprisingly brittle remains of what looked like a very unfortunate knight. Sig also nodded toward the shield. “That's also magic.”

He put his hand into the bag, “Nice.” He turned to Bròmm, “This is like your pocket.” Bròmm, Floki and Danin all nodded approvingly together at the statement. I couldn't help but glance around at them with a bewildered expression. He started emptying the bag, considering each item and placing it on the ground. A leather wrapped book, that looked something like a journal was of special note.

Sig read parts of it aloud. Phrases like “we rode our castle” and “large sums of money” were tossed out.

“Rode … what?” I gurgled.

“That's what it said,” Sig said. I looked back at the entrance.

“Wait. Did you check the statue?” I mused.

Suddenly, it made sense why there was a finely crafted statue blocking the entrance. Hell, I've seen Titans clash, the possibility of it wasn't inescapable and, unabashedly, one of the most amazing thing I've ever heard.

Sig walked to the mouth of the hallway and started nodding.

“Oh yes, yes. That’s ... yep.” He had the beginnings of a huge grin on his face. ”The magic imbued in It seems to blink out randomly. Maybe there’s something we can do about that. That’s definitely what he was talking about.”

Sig put everything back and I hefted the shield.

“I could use this. It might have helped against that,“ I pointed to the mass of minced fungus, ”Whatever it was.”

“That seems appropriate.” Danin said frankly.

Sig tossed me a sconce he pulled form the bag. It attached to the front of the shield to hold a light source. I shrugged, I put it in place, but I couldn't imagine why I'd need it.

Floki pointed at the doorway with the top of bow , “We still haven’t gone in there.”

We filed up to the door, it was a heavy banded metal door with large bolts locking the layers together. Floki and Danin looked in and described it to the rest of us. Low hanging banners hung from the ceiling at the perfect height for a Dwarf. This was a Dwarven mine, after all. Both of them noticed sprung traps leading deeper into a hallway.

I was able to peek through the door, trying to look past the low hanging banners. Among portraits of Dwarven lords lining the walls and their banners, there was a smallish kneeling statue facing away from us at the end of the hallway near the back wall. The form’s armor sparkled like gold.

Floki looked for any indicators showing how the traps were sprung. He looked up and looked closer at the banners and saw thin metal rods connected to the hinges on the roof. He made sure he was well clear of the potential trap and touched the banner, it sprung out forcefully narrowly missing him. His eyes widened with how close it had come.

“You should probably do that from back here, “ Sig scooted back a bit to give him room, “I can spark them so you can get to the next ones.”

Floki commenced tossing rocks, triggering the traps, then Sig would burn the next banner. Bladed traps swept out at foot and leg level.

“It wouldn't have been a problem for me,” Danin seemed a little upset about defacing the hall. I glowered at the top of his head. I understood it, though. The surface world wasn't really built for either of us.

I took the lead, gripping my shield and my own campaigner’s sword while advancing. The form came into full view. That wasn't a statue, but no one could have survived this long. From the diminutive form, curled forward there was a deep breath and a stretch that rippled through her golden chainmail. The young woman leaned back, still on her knees, eyes closed, face pointed toward the ceiling. A pale gem around her neck glowed and her pale skin began to flush as if she was waking from a sort of hibernation.

Sig announced that he sensed magic when he looked at her and pointed emphatically, “Not just her armor. Her.

My teeth were utterly on edge with anticipation. I didn’t know if I should strike before I let this go on much longer.

“Ma’am? If you don’t mind. Are you friend or foe?” I said cautiously. My training taught me to be inexplicably nice when talking to nobility. It was a nervous habit, but it seemed especially appropriate right now.

I’m wasting time if I want an advantage…

“Is it dead?” She spoke, groggily.
“Is what dead?” I pressed, brow furrowed.
“The dragon.”

She turned her head smoothly and looked right in my eyes without hesitation. She had an uncanny beauty, but, by the gods, her calm eyes showed inexpressible depth with no fear or uncertainty. It was hard to feel settled with something so self-assured.

“It’s long since dead. It’s probably been dead for decades. Wait, how are you alive?

“What of my master?” She asked calmly.

“The man riddled with teeth marks? Also very, very dead. Can you answer my questions?”

“Hmmm. My master sent me in here, but he didn’t call to me.” She turned inward and mused for a moment.

I sat, frustrated. Not a single answer. It was hard to read what she was thinking. She seemed human but her demeanor was very proper almost submissive when talking about her “master”.

“Who are you? What did you do for your master?” Floki approached. The group had been moving closer as she slowly stood, now completely recovered from her hibernation.

“My name is Silah. I am a weapon.” She stated.

I glanced at Floki and saw his expression sharing the same feeling, bewilderment. An answer, but what does that even mean?

“To my master, I was a hand-and-a-half sword.” She continued.

The pit in my stomach stretched to a chasm. I heard the words echo in my head from Duncan as we were training just early today. “You need to retire that sword.” He looked at my notched and beaten campaigner’s bastard sword. “Find yourself something you won’t be ashamed to carry with you.” I had nothing but pride in this sword, one of my prized possessions from the 10 Years War, but he was right. Find a wall to put it on … eventually.

I gulped. my mouth suddenly dry with anticipation.

She was standing facing the party now. She had this sort of expectant look but we simply glanced from one to another.

There were so many things I wanted to say like, “Can we escort you to safety?” or “What in the great hells were doing here?” or “How did you survive?” I should probably also ask the now obvious questions like “Are you human?” and “Are you going to try and kill us?” She seemed to be answering honestly enough, but apparently she was fine with answering everyone but me.

Women.

“It appears I am no longer bonded.” She looked at each of us. The glances around the room were met with silence.

“What,” I licked my lips trying to urge moisture back into them, “does that mean?”

“I am a weapon. I am to be wielded.” If she hadn’t stated it so calmly and we weren’t hip deep in a long dead cavern, I’d have chuckled at how provocative that phrase sounded.

“What does it mean to bond? How do you bond with someone?” Sig asked.

“I will be your weapon. I am meant to be used in battle, I was my master’s sword and he wielded me against many foes.” She continued, “To bond, you must offer me part of your lifeforce. As long as I am near you, we will share this lifeforce. If you decide to break the bond, I will take it from you.”

“That sounds harsh,” I said.

“What would you rather, warrior?” Silah said it flatly, but when she turned her eyes on me there was a glint of a challenge in those deep wells.

I looked away. Damn my training with nobility. I brought my eyes back and locked on to hers. There was an ever so subtle tug at the corner of her mouth and her eyes twinkled.

I looked down at the notched and hastily forged campaigner blade in my hand, but as I looked around, I saw the same expressions dance across everyone else’s face.

Floki spoke up, “Could you act as a bow?”

“Can a bow taste blood?” Silah responded, almost curtly. Floki nodded with a grimace. Bròmm and Sig seemed to have also gotten their answer.

I turned to Danin, the only other who wielded a grand weapon in toe to toe battle.

“I would wield her,” I glanced uncomfortably over at the little girl standing a pace away. Her. I cleared my throat, ”but I’m only a hired hand. You are a longtime friend to these men. You should choose if you would want to take her into battle.”

He looked down for a time, falling into deep thought. He looked up after a minute or two, “I’m more of a healer than a warrior. You should wield her.” I could see the turbulence flutter across his unflappable exterior.

“Thank you,” I handed him the knight’s shield with the attached sconce that I had picked up just earlier. I turned to the rest of the party nodding to them in turn, “Each of you. Thank you.”

It was true, since joining this crew, I had been treated with utmost respect. It had been a very long time since I could say that. From guarding the wealthy and nobility, there wasn’t much respect to be had. Now, an unfathomable treasure was committed to my care and I could do nothing more than express my boundless gratitude. It was almost enough to get me a bit misty, but I held form. Last thing anyone wants to see is a weepy frontline-man.

Silah was looking on at this whole exchange impassively. She had stood impossibly still the whole time, taking in the scene only with her eyes. Were they really eyes? It’s impossible to know what she was actually made from. Disconcerting thoughts, once again, danced in my head.

Do I really know what I’m getting myself into?

“I will bond with you.” I said firmly.

“You mean that I will bond with you.” She corrected.

“Yes, whatever. That.” I ground my teeth at the challenge.

“So, it is decided?” She looked expectantly, almost urgingly, at the other members of the group to speak up.

“It seems so. Do you have a problem with this?” I said somewhat aggressively, looking sidelong at her.

She looked up at me impassively again, “No. I have no problem.”

“So, now what do I do?” I asked. Thinking there was likely lightning, fire, and lots of pain involved.

“Take my hand” She reached toward me.

I took her soft, warm hand in mine. She had to be human. There’s no other explanation. I held her hand daintily to avoid crushing her assuredly delicate form, but she immediately diminished and the warmth spread in my hand into a solid grip.

Within moments, a dagger of exceptional craftsmanship was in my hand. The balance was exquisite and the edge was incredible. Inlaid gold traced along the ornate core. The grip and slight pommel were intricately traced fitting my large hands as if it were made for me.

Could I feel her smiling?

“In order to complete the bonding ritual. I must take your blood as a sacrifice.” She was speaking in my head. A close, personal whisper that sent chills up my spine. I looked at the others they stood looking at me expectantly, unaware of our communication.

I took the dagger and considered where I would make this sacrifice. I look at my hand and considered it, but it seemed superficial. A bond like this remains close, personal.

I pressed the tip against the meaty portion of my abdomen and pressed the blade in against the clenched muscle making sure not to hit any vitals. I bit back the pain as I pressed in. I winced again as I pulled the blade back out. I let loose an audible sigh with the effort.

“Coat the blade in blood.” There was a rising timber to her voice. I cupped my hand below the wound, capturing the stream. I flattened my now bloodied left hand and carefully pulled the blade through it. I began to feel ill from the wound.

She’s sure enjoying this.

“Remember that I can hear you. And yes, I am. I am a weapon, after all. Weapons desire battle and spilling blood." She paused attempting to regain control, her voice impassioned with a restrained ecstasy, "I see we are alike.”

My eyes widened, but I kept silent. I could feel her tremble.

“Now, it’s for you to choose. What should my form be? Should I remain human or should I take on the form of your mixed blood?” She stated in her normally impassive tone.

Mixed?

“Do not take offense where no offense is meant.”

You can remain human. I don't mind you the way you are.

“Quaint. But the sentiment is appreciated.” I could feel her nod approvingly.

“What form of weapon do you want me to take?” She seemed unusually expectant about my answer.

I turned to the group.

“I have a decision to make,” I stated, “I have been trained to fight on the frontline with defense being more important than offense. Now I'm finding that my shield is in the way. All the defense I could muster still couldn't stand against that … thing out there.

“I am considering wielding her as a greatsword.”

A shiver rolled down my spine as I said that. Actually, no, a shiver rolled down her spine. I was feeling the excitement.

Did you just … purr?

Sig spoke first, ”I agree. That seems very appropriate.”

This didn't surprised me, he had made a comment earlier that I often dropped my shield in fights. On the battlefield, I would have broken the lines, and been whipped heartily if I had ever broke rank. Now that I was out here, it was up to me and it seemed natural to be more aggressive.

I nodded at the recommendation.

“A Greatsword, then.” I spoke aloud.

“Done.” She whispered breathlessly. I couldn't help but grin. I hadn't pleased a woman like this. Ever.

The warmth in my hands spread further, the grip widened and the handle lengthened as the dagger blade unfurled to nearly four feet. The grip and pommel extending nearly a foot in length ending in a solid round pommel weighted in perfect balance to the blade. The wide, elegant cross guard was where the sword pivoted gracefully.

The blade itself was immaculate and incredibly well crafted. The gold inlay and etchings mimicked the same scrollwork on the dagger, but broader with more elaborate and precise etchings. There seemed to be writing on the blade whatever markings there were, it was indistinguishable from the ornate trappings. Residual blood from my offering slightly glazing the blade.

The warmth in my hands seemed unnatural. It was the sensation, but my hands were not actually warmer for it. It almost seemed like our connection, for lack of a better word, was the presence of that warmth. I held her with both hands swaying the tip of the blade back and forth.

“We are bonded, you and I.” She echoed thoughtfully, again, giving the feeling of a slight smile.

How can I have you join us? I dare not put you down.

“... I feel the same way.” Her words were close and wistful. Warmth spread down my arms across my back and chest. It was a phantom embrace. I closed my eyes against it, enjoying the moment.

Another moment passed.

“Just think it and I will take my human form.” She seemed to shake herself aware.

I rotated the Greatsword with the pommel up and warmth again stretched the grip of my fingers and I found myself holding her chain-mailed arm. She was human again just as she was when we found her. She was nearly the same size as the Greatsword.

Silah looked around and then her eyes paused on me, facing away from the group, there was a trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth.

“You have a little …” I motioned to the blood tracing from the corner of her mouth.

“I know.” She smiled at me slightly, her perfect teeth lined with red. My blood. She caught the stream with her finger and sucked it clean.

“Thank you.” She nodded, genuinely grateful.

“Sure, anytime?” I was only a little horrified. The ache in my side from the dagger wound throbbed, but looking at it, there was only a pale spot where I had stabbed myself with the dagger.

“That was a nice touch, too.” She looked at the pale spot thoughtfully, “The sentimentality wasn't lost on me.”

She turned away and began talking to the group. She introduced herself to the others and answered the flurry of questions coming from the rest of them.

Am I in over my head?

I watched Silah cautiously. Only when I was wielding her could she be in my head. I was going to need some time to contemplate what just happened.

We made our way down the stairway to a tunnel that made its way out to the sea. It was not a difficult traverse. Sig explained that, with a little work, a flatboat could come in during high tide to collect any shipments. He mentioned that Beidrick, an old friend of theirs that I had only recently met, was going to get that bigger boat, after all.

We settled on the shore near the second location that they had marked for Richter Holdings. Before moving into the cave to collect, both Floki and Danin pulled out fishing gear and began tossing the their lines out into the stormy waters. It was supposed to rain for days, according to Floki. A lovely coastal drizzle that was very different from down South.

It wasn't long before Danin pulled up a silvery fish that he called a salmon. He commenced gutting and cleaning it. He set up a fire in a small shelter from the elements and expertly layered seaweed and fillets. The smell was glorious.

Danin handed out portions to the party.

“Can I have some?” Silah asked.

“You don't need my permission.” I nodded to her to take some of the fish.

“Will you give some to me?” She added with a steeled look.

I locked gaze with her and then glanced around at the others. Then it dawned on me.

“Sure, yes. Here.” I quickly gave her my makeshift plate.

In a much more conversational tone she added, “I don't need to eat. But I enjoy it.” She said this while looking around at the rest of the party.

“Do you eat the skin, too? Is it good?” She asked with a smile.

The others looked at her with a touch of incredulousness.

“Wait, you don't know …” I blurted, but the words died on my lips. She was pretending. She was trying to fit in. But, hell, so was I. And me calling it out seemed admittedly silly.

I fell silent, looking inward for a bit. Listening to the conversation evolve around me. I asked Sig if he wanted to go harvest some of the guano. I might have been less subtle and said, “bat shit”. It appeared that my civilized filters were off, for the moment, and I wasn't even drunk.

We were a few strides into the cave and the harvesting was plentiful. We didn't want to disturb the bats or else they wouldn't present their magical feces. One animals crap is another man's treasure, as they say.

Did they say that?

“I’m not sure if this is a good idea.” Sig said frankly.

“I understand. I do.” I nodded but fell quiet. Perhaps he saw the same misgivings.

“She could have you charging into battle.”

I looked at him, curious.

“Am I supposed to do anything different?” I asked.

“Just… don't let her convince you to do something that will get you killed. We have already lost one of us.” Sig seemed genuinely concerned.

“I think we're a good matchup. There won't be any conflicts.”

He nodded.

Liar. Yeah, I'm a liar.

We came back to the fire and settled down. The sun hung low, a ghostly disc on the horizon cutting through the gloom of the drizzle. Along with it the conversation had wound down. Everyone was mesmerized by the fire crumbling down to embers.

“We should set up watch,” I glanced around the fire at the 5 sets of eyes now looking at me, “Who goes first?”

A moment passed and something dawned on me.

“Wait, Silah? You don't get tired, do you?” I asked, feeling smart.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at me. Those eyes.

“Can you tell when people approach?” I asked.

“I can tell if I consider them evil or if they have malevolent intent toward you.” She stated.

“Could you watch for the night?”

“Yes, I can.”

I started second guessing my decision.

“Well, perhaps I should stay up, too.” I said, with only a slightly awkward backpedaling.

There was a moment of tense silence.

“You don't trust me?” She challenged, her eyes piercing right through me.

“I, no, it's not that I don't trust you.” I explained, “I just don't know what your capabilities are.”

“Then why would you ask?” She said, incredulous, “Why did you bond with me if you didn't think you could trust me?”

“Fine! Could you watch?” Rage filled my head, but I did my best to suppress it.

“Could I?” She retorted sharply. My knuckles whitened.

“Yes. Could you... please?” I chewed through the words, blood pounding in my ears.

“Yes, I will.” She said coolly.

She immediately turned to Danin, “Thank you, Danin, that fish was very good.”

I stood briskly and moved away from fire.

What in the hell have I done.

(Get to know Akeron.)

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