(Okay. You guys wanted a bad ass dwarf- here you go.)
Goldenhold
Chapter 9: Ale After Agony
Stonehand’s curiosity was over. The gremlins were assaulting, and he had to get back before they did to warn the people to pull up the bridge to the underground, along with turning off the hydraulic elevator that he had ridden up and down in so many time for the barges.
He could imagine the havoc they could reck in his head. Destroying homes in order to steal their valuable furniture, leaving bodies haphazardly in the roads because they had to move them out of the way in order to leave an aisle open for wagons of valuables. He hadn’t heard much about gremlins, and didn’t know what they could do. Maybe they would just invite bigger things along, or transform into pidgins. He picked up a knife in the back room, sliding it into his boot.
He couldn’t bear any of those thoughts. He had to go, and now. He opened the door, sprinting to the area where the gremlins were.... they were not happy to see him. They started on the attack, but Stonehand found them weak and sluggish and was able to dodge them until he ran past them. They didn’t seem upset or curse though, continuing slowly on their trek.
As soon as he was past them he jumped over a small pool and sprinted past- the gremlins continued to walk slowly, and he soon found out why, and decided that maybe it would have been better to fight the gremlins.
Every step he made echoed in the cavern as if a marching band of drums were being played in the massive caves. Then he heard something else’s echo- the sound of a raging hiss, and shuffled noises came from above. The gremlins all stopped moving at that moment.
He did the only thing he could- run like hell. He sprinted, he kept sprinting, and even when there were pools in front of him he jumped without hesitation or thinking, and kept going. He must have covered a few miles within those twenty minutes.
But the sounds of the cave creature got louder, closer, and more eerie because it seemed as if he was trying to pad it’s touch on the walls, as if to sneak up. Stonehand couldn’t have know if that was what it was doing- very little was known about the creatures this deep -and he had no intention of figuring them out personally. He kept running.
The sound got closer and closer, and Stonehand’s vision was starting to blur from the exhaustion, and his lungs heaved so loudly that someone would have thought there was a billion people for all the noise it made, the echoes only making that worse, he heard his own exhaustion and fear constantly, never escaping the noise it made.
He had no choice after a few more moments. He was going to stop and take a break or die- and he was only what seemed to be two-thirds of the way there. He’d rather suffer a fast death fighting than a slow one for being stupid. Turning around, he tried to make his eyes adjust to see what was approaching.
The dwarf heard and saw nothing. Nothing at all, nothing even remotely scary. He was about to be relieved when he heard a thud, and the earth shook beneath his feet. He fell, and time slowed for him. His head hit the ground but his legs were aching more than his head.
He punched infront of himself randomly with his right arm, and his arm entered into a moist cave- then he realized it was a mouth of a serpent, trying to pull him in. He fought, he struggled, he tried to break free, but it didn’t work. The only thing he could do was try and slow his demise.
The fisherdwarf planted his feet in the ground, struggling. The tongue wrapped against his arm, slimy. He heard something snap, and his arm lost the sensation of feeling. Before he went in, he muttered a prayer to Armok, hoping that he would have an afterlife of lush fields.
Stonehand was pulled violently into the esophagus of the creature, the throat compressing him as if he was being crushed under rock collapsing from the ceiling in some part of the fortress that was out of repair.
Above, the siege was going badly. Above, the humans were crying victory. Above, the captain was shot. And above, Kyle was wiping the blood off of his maul, along with various bits and guts of dwarves.
But down there, Stonehand only saw the blackness of the throat. He struggled to reach for his boot, but the compressions got worse. He started to slide down- he guessed to the stomach of the creature. He knew snakes could take years to digest things, and it would be a painful death since he wasn’t bit and paralyzed by the serpents fangs... which he didn’t see but guessed were there. He didn’t even know how big the thing was..... Acid ate at him, but the stomach was loose... His prayers were answered.
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A few minutes later, a group of miners found a serpent, writhing in pain, right outside the lower gates to Goldenhold. Confused, they just sat and watched the hundred foot long snake through the light of their lanterns struggle against itself, twisting against the cave floors.
One man asked the others what they thought was happening- and he didn’t have time for an answer. The snake’s eyes rolled up into it’s head, the two massive orbs rotating slowly.
Then they saw a knife tear through the scales- from beneath. Puzzled, they couldn’t take their eyes off the hideous sight, guts and blood pouring out as if it was a gusher of water. The hole was thickened by the knife until a thin piece was cut out.
Suddenly, a dwarf, covered in slime, climbed out, carrying a dagger, his beard singed by the acids of the stomach. His clothes were seeming to melt as he stood there for a moment, but as he jumped twenty feet down off the massive body of the serpent, he seemed fine, but really angry.
He said, “We are under attack by a group of Gremlins. Ring the bell and close the bridges to the caverns of the deep.” Considering his achievement, the whole group would soon obey him like a god. Before they could ask about anything else, the slayer one thing before leaving them behind, confused.
“I’m getting a drink.”
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Topic: The Age of Myth: Goldenhold (A DF Novel Length Story) (Read 115839 times)