He crept out, using the corner pillar as cover as he approached the closed doors. They duergar beyond had not resumed forging, and a deep silence filled the space with only the distant thunder of water echoing through the deep.

‘You cowards gonna let him have all the glory?’

“Shut up.” Lia followed Jarek, crossbow in her hands.

The others followed, gathering around the pillar. Moving as a group they quietly stepped to the door. Jarek leaned close, listening. He shook his head and reached for the door. Grasping the handle, he slowly drew open the heavy wood door. He looked around the door into the grand space beyond. A strong odor of smoke and hot metal wafted through the door.

“The forge!” breathed Jarek. He stepped into the doorway, then suddenly jumped aside. A javelin flew through the opening, a breath’s distance from the scrambling dwarf.

“They were waitin’,” he grinned from the other side.

Adran pulled off his cloak and waved it in the open door, being rewarded with another pair of javelins piercing the cloth.

“Definitely waiting.”

“How many javelins do ye think they have?”

Lia raced across the open space, and another javelin lanced through.

“Enough.”

“They won’t keep throwing them, will they?” Seraphina crawled up to the edge and held a small piece of polished steel out to look around the corner. “I can’t see them. Bad angle.” She moved the steel slightly. “Ok, I see one. There are two bridges. I think they are bridges. Across the chamber is a lit forge. Something is moving over there. And something else is by a pile of rock or coal. Hard to tell, it is really dark in there.”

‘So, we are gonna stand here and talk. Hmm. Figures.’

“No, we aren’t.” Lia answered. “Oh, my stars! I did it again!”

‘The hot one likes me. Hehe.’

“Block.” Malark set his torch down and dropped his pack, untying his shield. Hefting the shield, he bounced on his toes.

“They are throwing javelins.” Seraphina was still moving the polished metal around. “You are going to get hurt.”

“Not stay.”

‘The big guy gets it. He needs to kill. Like yours truly.’

“They won’ come to us. Sneaky bastards will hide an’ throw javelins all day.”

“How far away is the forge?” Adran had an arrow out.

“Forty? Fifty feet?” Seraphina got to her knees. “Why?”

“Toss my cloak up again, see if you draw a couple more shots.” Adran handed his cloak to Seraphina and readied his bow. “Now!”

Seraphina waved the cloak in the door, then pulled it quickly back. A javelin stuck in the door, and before it stopped quivering, Adran stepped out, took careful aim, and loosed a single arrow before ducking into cover.

“Hit anything?”

“Maybe. Hard to tell moving that fast. Wait a minute, then try the cloak thing again.” Adran nocked another arrow and took a couple deep breaths.

“Ready?”

He only nodded. Seraphina waved the cloak again, jumping from one side of the doorway to the other. No javelins greeted the cloak or her movement. Adran stepped out and loosed another shot anyway. He was in cover before a javelin skipped of the rocks through the doorway.

“That time?”

“A definite hit. Two of them were standing by the forge.”

“Probably won’t go for it again.”

“Probably not.”

“Block.” Malark hefted his shield.

“There is no place to hide once we are through.”

“We hav’ t’ drive them off.”

“No way to go through that door without getting hurt.”

Seraphina was back on her stomach, reaching out to look with the polished metal again.

“See anything else?”

“Not really. They are hiding now.”

“Invisible?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t see them.”

“Ye said there are two bridges?”

“Yes. To the right and left. There is nothing in the center. I think there are a couple forges on this side, too. Yeah. In the corners.”

“We could run for one of those.”

“Malark block. Friends run. Run fast.”

“We cannae stay here forever.”

“Go now.” Malark started through the door. He was holding his shield up, his head behind it.

‘Woooo! Get ready to kill!’

The others rushed through the opening. All the feints and cloak waving gave them an advantage and the duergar weren’t ready for the sudden charge. The party raced along the wall and clustered behind a large, cold forge. Rusty tools lay on the soot-stained stone, and coal was piled around it, ready for the next smiths to relight the fires.

The duergar were across the wide chamber, on the other side of a rushing stream of water. A pair of bridges spanned the stream, one close, the other at the far end of the room some fifty feet or more away.

A javelin smashed into the wall near them harmlessly. Malark was grinning, the wild, manic grin of battle-lust.

“Good on’ ya!” Jarek was crouched so he could peer around the forge.

“You had a chance to leave.”

The voice was familiar, possibly the same duergar that had shouted the initial warnings.

“Now you have blooded our kin, and there is only one reward for you now.”

Several duergar laughed in low, growling chuckles.

“Oh yeah? Well, seems we bin keepin’ the upper hand. Why don’t ya traitorous gits come out an’ fight like true dwarves.” Jarek shouted in return.

Without warning a painfully loud ringing clanged from the forge. It smashed stones, set dust and dirt billowing, and floored the party. All of them wheezing in pain.

“What the?” Jarek grunted.

“Spell caster.” Adran was murmuring.

“We can’t take another hit like that again. Gotta spread out.”

Malark was already up, charging out. He was carrying Durngreip and his shield in one hand and a javelin in the other.  He flung the flung the javelin with a roar and sprinted across the bridge. Adran was the first to react, murmuring and pointing as he came out of cover. A misty fog appeared across the room, surrounding the lit forge in a thick white cloud. Jarek’s boots clattered on the stone as he charged, his stunty legs carrying him through the dark room.

“He can’t even see!” Lia’s voice was full of anguish. She ran out, mouthing arcane words as she searched for a target. Seeing movement near the forge closest to the bridge she pointed and released the pent-up power. A mass of swirling black energy streaked across the room, impacting the shadowy figure in a blast of thunderous sound. The duergar was blasted off its feet, and the creature scrambled out of sight.

Seraphina drew her blades and sprinted forward, her cloak billowing behind her. She narrowly dodged a javelin thrown by another duergar skulking near the unlit forge. The creature stretched and grew, enlarging in a moment. Circling around the forge, it hefted a massive war pick. Javelins flew out of the foggy cloud, flying wild and never a danger.

“Look! I’m magic!’ Durngreip shouted and began to glow, casting a bright light around Malark. ‘No sense being special if no one knows! Now kill those smelly dwarves!’

Being able to see the duergar drove Malark on. He rushed in, blocking the brute duergar’s pick, then smashing Durngreip into the huge creature, burying the blade deep. Tearing it free sent a torrent of blood flowing. Staggering back, the return strike was weak and ineffectual.

The duergar Lia had injured moved to join its bleeding comrade, only to have Seraphina sprint in, blades flashing. In a flurry of slashes and stabs the little halfling finished the wounded creature, climbing atop its fallen form to yell at Malark’s foe.

“Quit! Surrender! You don’t all have to die!”

Malark was about to strike the bleeding duergar when he froze, Durngreip halting mid-strike.

‘What are you doing, you fool? Smash that filthy creature! Kill!’

“Malark?” Seraphina screamed. “Malark!” As if her voice alone would shake his from whatever was affecting him.

“Magic user! Lia fired off a quick shot at a duergar that had just emerged from the foggy cloud. She ran along the fast-flowing stream, flames flickering on her fingertips. She sent a mote of flame after the same duergar, trying to distract it from whatever magic it was wielding.

Adran sent another arrow towards the same duergar. Hitting it solidly, the creature stumbled and screamed something that sounded quite vile. Malark blinked once and Durngreip sagged in his hands, his duergar foe smashed its pick into him, nearly knocking him over.

“Cheap shot, ye foul traitor!” Jarek had finally reached the combat and caught the duergar half-unaware as it concentrated on Malark. Swinging mightily, the dwarf swung his hammer with two hands, and upper cutting strike that caught the enlarged duergar in the groin, lifting it momentarily off its feet and causing it to shriek in pain.

Malark groaned in pain, but leapt forward to swing Durngreip, the axe howling gleefully as it soared through the air.

‘Feel my edge! Die, dark thing, die!’

The blade parted armor and flesh, slicing deep through the duergar’s shoulder and chest, crushing the creature to the floor. Blood sprayed in a mist spattering dwarf and man. Jarek spit on the corpse, then looked up Malark and the blood pouring from the grievous wound the duergar had dealt.

“Stand back, laddie, let us finish th’ rest!”

“Not done.”

‘Me either! I need to kill!’

Jarek gave the big man a look, then turned to face the other threats.

“If ye die, ye cannae blame me, ye stubborn ox!”

Another huge duergar emerged from the fog cloud, growling and swearing, charging Jarek and Malark. Before the enraged dark dwarf reached the party, the spellcasting duergar sent a dazzling, rainbow spray of flashing lights into Jarek and Malark. Both and dwarf screamed in pain, covering their eyes from the blinding flashes. They both stood still, both blind and helpless. Adran was just outside the spray of light and was blinking bright spots from his vision and missed a bow shot at the duergar charging the two blinded fighters. He tossed his bow aside, drawing his longsword and challenging the duergar.

“Come at me! Fight me Nadorhuan! Look at me!”

Seraphina was atop the bridge, safe from the blast of light. She aimed and fired, catching the spell-caster duergar clean, burying an arrow through the metal scales of its armored shirt.

The duergar ignored the charging elf and smashed Jarek aside with a mighty strike of his pick. The stunty dwarf crumpled in a heap, grunting in pain. Snarling, the duergar tried to recover from his swing, but not in time. Adran slashed his blade in an upward stroke, carving a deep furrow up the chest of the shirtless duergar. He spun on his heel, darting away from the creature, and out of range of its off-balance and weak return strike. Lia was sending bolt after bolt of flame at the magic-wielding duergar, separated from the main fight by the rushing stream.

Angry and frustrated, the duergar shouted something in his dark tongue, and flung something at the melee combat. In a moment the thunderous ringing sound shattered the dark. The blast knocked the everyone in the party, save Lia, to the ground. Even the shirtless duergar was knocked prone. Dust and rock lifted in the air from the mighty gonging, falling and scattering as the sound echoed through the cavern.

Lia shouted in frustration and anger, her eyes blazing violently as she sent a searing bolt of flame that caught the duergar in the face, the blazing magic ending the creature and crumpling it into a heap.

The prone duergar dizzily shook its head, then vanished. The others were close enough that they could hear gravel crunching as it fled.

‘Go after him! I’m not done!’

None of the party were in any shape to chase after it. Malark banged his axe on the ground, silencing the shrill voice.

“We need to get out of here.” Adran was wheezing as he staggered to his feet. “Wait. Where is Seraphina?”

“A little help?” came a worried voice.

No one could see the diminutive halfling. By now all of them were on their feet, still slightly dazed from whatever spell had blasted them twice in the last few minutes.

“Where is she?” Lia’s voice was tense as she ran back towards the bridge.

“Right here. Please hurry.” Seraphina’s voice sounded small and terrified.

Lia dropped her crossbow as she ran to the bridge, flopping down and reaching for something the others couldn’t see.

“I’ve got you!” Lia grunted as she strained, both hands wrapped around Seraphina’s wrist.

Adran ran up the bridge, setting his sword down as he slid to a stop. He laid on the stone and reached down, grasping Seraphina’s other wrist as she clung to the rough stone of the bridge. Hanging over the rushing torrent, Seraphina never looked down. Together they pulled until she was able to get a foot on the bridge and push herself up, falling to the ground between the other two.

“I thought I was a goner.” Seraphina whispered, her cheek on the cool stone. “Lost my bow.”

“Better a bow that you going swimming.” Lia smiled, her hand on Seraphina’s cheek. “Saints and stars, girl, please don’t do that again!”

Seraphina smiled back.

“I’ll try not to.”

The three of them get to their feet, turning to see where the others were. Malark was limping back to them, with Jarek close behind.

“They had a few coins, and small gems. Tossed their picks in the drink.”

“What about the others?”

“Gone, I hope.” Seraphina said with a grimace.

“Hiding. Waiting to ambush us. The cave extends that way a fair bit. From the sound, this river feeds the falls we saw earlier.” Jarek was looking beyond the lit forge.

“Could be more chambers off this one, too.”

“We need a rest. A least a little while. Some healing. A bit to eat. All of you look well beat down.” Lia was heading back to the main chamber, away from the others.

“Where are you going?” Jarek asked, leaning on his hammer.

“To find a hidden room we can hide in.”

Lia was walking fast, crossbow in one hand, flames in the other when she suddenly veered towards the cold forge they had hidden behind earlier. Seraphina had started after her while the men stood on the bridge.

“We have them running.” Jarek’s voice was low.

“We don’t know how many are left. And Lia is right, we are beat up.” Adran began to murmur and sign in the air, then drew a circle over the deep wound in Malark’s chest. The blood flow slowed, then stopped, the wound knitting partially closed.

“Thanks.” Malark grunted.

Durngreip was still pouting after Malark bounced the axe off the stone floor and remained quiet for once.

“We kin finish them off.”

“More likely they’ll finish us off.”

“What do you see?” Seraphina asked as she approached Lia.

“Something sparkled.” Lia crouched down and picked up a couple coins and a shiny gold chain set with fiery red stones. Standing up, she reached into the cold forge  and scooped up more coins. “There are hundreds of coins in here.”

Seraphina hurried to her side, dropping her pack and pulling out a cloth sack.

“Good thing we dropped all the other coins back in the Glitterhame.” She smiled. “We are rich!”

“If we live.” Lia started loading coins into the sack Seraphina held.

“What do you mean?”

“I think Jarek wants to go after the duergar.”

“What? Now? As badly hurt as we are?”

“Exactly.”

“Adran will talk some sense into him. He has to. We need to rest.”

“Desperately.”

The two women finished loading three sacks full of coins when the men joined them. Jarek looked furious. Adran was avoiding Jarek’s gaze. Malark looked exhausted.

“We need to rest.” Adran said simply.

“Very much so. Here, carry this.” Seraphina hefted the largest of the sacks and held in in front of Malark.

“Heavy.”

“I know, that’s why I gave it to you!” Seraphina smiled brightly; despite the fatigue she felt.

“We can go back to the library room. Were we met… her.” Adran picked up another of the sacks, coins clinking and settling in the bag.

“Seemed like only one way in and out. The door was intact.” Lia nodded in agreement.

“What if she comes back?” Seraphina was chewing her lip.

“Would it?”

“What was it?”

‘Whatever it was.’ Durngreip whistled. ‘She looked good!’

“What if that was its lair?”

“Most creatures keep treasures in their lairs.”

“The books could have been its treasures.”

“Possibly.”

“Should we risk it?”

“We could put a couple wedged doors between us and the rest of the duergar. Deal with the fiend if it comes back.”

“We nay shoulda let them live.” Jarek mumbled, not looking at any of them.

“Let’s go. Malark is dead on his feet. All of us need as much healing as we can muster. We need at least an hour’s rest before we go on.” Lia started towards the double doors leading back to main hall.

“She decided then?” Adran murmured.

Malark and Seraphina followed Lia. Adran sighed, and headed after them too. Jarek, alone, stayed to gaze around The Forge. The Forge of legend he had grown up hearing about. He grumbled something under his breath and kicked a piece of coal across the chamber, sending it skittering into the stream. He grumped again, then followed the others.

They were waiting for him behind the simple throne. They moved through the heavy stone door together, and pushed it shut. Jarek hammered a pair of pitons under the door, wedging it securely in place. He repeated the wedging on the door from the council room to the grand bed chamber.

“Door ‘s just wood. Won’ hold them long.”

“Any slowing will help. Plus, they’ll have to make noise to smash it open.”

“With any luck, they just left.”

“Or they won’t look for us. They only seemed to be using the forge area.”

“An’ this bed chamber. Tha’ long-haired freak and her friend will want their things.” Jarek was rummaging through the satchels.

He dumped them out unceremoniously. A dagger wrapped in a leather belt tumbled out amid the mess of clothing and sundry articles. From the next came the chinking of coins and several small bundles wrapped in cloth. Kneeling around the pile, they discovered a small pouch of semi-precious stones in a variety of colors; opaque gray-black, translucent striped brown, opaque light blue-green, translucent circles of green, opaque dark blue flecked with yellow, and yellow-white with green markings. A large sack of coppers was set aside. A small pouch held gold coins. The last pair of sacks held shiny silver coins marked with a flying falcon.

“Ay! Cormyrean falcons! And a pile of them!” Jarek was digging through the sacks inspecting various coins.

“These are pretty new.” Adran held one up to inspect it. “Has a year mark.”

“What year?” Jarek dumped the coins he held back in the sack.

“This year.”

“What?”

“1460” Adran held out the coin. “These are new.”

“An’ far from home.” Jarek looked pensive.

“Does it mean anything?” Seraphina was turning one of the falcons in her hand. Looking at it closely.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Could’a been stolen from a royal shipment. Could’a been robbed from a merchant caravan.”

“Could be a bribe.” Adran turned the coin in his hand.

“Aye, elf, it could be. But fer what?”

No one answered. Lia picked up one of the small cloth bundles and unwrapped it. The cloth itself was an embroidered silk handkerchief, finely woven and carefully stitched. It covered a small mirror set in a painted wooden frame. The wood was delicately carved and the paint was carefully applied. Two more of the bundles revealed a pair of copper chalices with silver filigree. A small piece of silk hid a fancy quartz bottle holding a healing potion. They passed the objects around, then rewrapped them and stowed them in packs and pouches.

“These will fetch decent coin. Small enough to pawn, not too expensive tha’ would need to travel to a large city to sell them.” Jarek appraised the objects as they stashed them. “’cept the healer. That’ll come in handy.”

They shared the weight of the coins, beginning to feel the burden again. Moving through the bed chamber, the closet, and the long passage, Jarek wedged each door in turn until they were hidden in the bed chamber beyond the library. They spread out, digging out whatever bits of hard tack, jerky, or dried fruit they still had.

“An hour? Three? Six?” Lia was pounding her pack into the rough shape of a pillow.

“I don’t want to be here long.” Jarek paced the room. “No’ a full sleep.”

“We don’t have a choice. We nap here or we trek all the way back to the Glitterhame.” Adran was sitting cross-legged, hands on his knees and eyes closed. “Either way, we all get some rest. We are spent.”

Malark was already snoring. Cuts large and small were carved across his torso, some still oozing blood. Lia stretched out, her blanket covering her face.

“Feel free to not sleep, Jarek. Someone needs to keep guard.”

‘May I be of service, mi-lady?’ Durngreip was polite for once.

“Sure. Make a lot of noise if you hear duergar.”

“Or orcs.” Seraphina added.

“Or troglodytes.”

“A bear.”

“A sneaky table.”

“Animated skeletons.”

‘Har. Har.’

Seraphina curled up next to Malark, barely visible behind his massive bulk. Jarek prowled around for a while, grumbling and murmuring, then he sat quietly, watching the door until he grew drowsy. Getting up, he paced for another long while, then went to wake Adran.

“Yer turn to keep watch, Adran.” He murmured sleepily. “Me eyes cannae stay open.”

“Get some sleep. I believe we are secure in here.”

“Hope so.” Jarek flopped to the floor, setting his hammer and helm beside him.

Adran let the others sleep another two hours before waking them up. The three of them who could manipulate healing spells mustered all the power they could, healing the party of as many wounds and injuries as they could. Coupled with food and drink, and the naps they took was restorative, though not entirely. Malark still limped slightly. Jarek was not as quick on his feet as normal. Seraphina had a lingering paleness from their encounter with the ghostly Arundil. Adran was stiff, stretching and bending as he tried to shake of the creeping exhaustion. Only Lia had avoided much of the injuries the others had collected through the long night and day.

“How long have we been down here?” Seraphina wondered.

“Uh. Four days?” Lia counted on her fingers. “Five?”

“We have only slept twice?” 

“That doesn’t help.”

“We won’t even know how long we’ve been gone until we get back to civilization. Not after losing track down here.”

“Hard to keep track when all we do is fight, explore, and fight some more.”

“Aye, lassie, but what an adventure! You lot have a singular honor.” Jarek beamed.

“And that is?”

“T’ be the very few non-Stout folk t’ walk these halls.”

“We earned it.”

“Aye, ye have.”

‘Great. They are special. Now can we get back at it? I haven’t killed anything in WEEKS!’ Durngreip complained.

“Weeks? And we thought we were having a tough time keeping track.”

They ate a little more, draining canteens and wineskins. Packing up their gear, they hid the treasures they had gathered under the ruined furniture in the bed chamber. Jarek knocked the wedges from under the door, and headed into the library room to remove them from the next door. Finished, he turned to the others.

“Shall we head t’ the Black Lake?”

“What is down there? Do we need to?”

“The thing said there was a dragon down there. An ancient dragon. I can skip a dragon.” Seraphina had lost her desire to see a dragon after their fight with a young white dragon some weeks before.

“That thing shared lots of lies. There was no doppelganger in the Glitterhame.”

“No wizard, either.”

“Mor’ ‘n likely no dragon.” Jarek sounded almost sad.

‘No dragon? What is an axe to do? The fight we would have had!’

“Dragons breath fire.”

‘So?’

“Fire melts metal.

‘And?’

“You are metal.”

‘Duh. Metal also cuts dragon flesh. Severs dragon appendages. Kills dragons. Bring on a dragon. Ha!’

“You are a lunatic.”

“Kin we a’ least explore the Black Lake? A little? Me eyes would like a view of the deepest caves here.”

“Your father never spoke of the lake?”

“No mor’ ‘n mentioning it. Just tha’ there was a lake deep under the hold.”

“We can go check it out, right?” Seraphina finally said.

‘Blah, blah, blah. Can we go kill something?’

“Can’t hurt. Make a climb down the ladder. Fall of the ladder. Drown in the lake.” Lia shrugged.

“No ‘ne will fall off the ladder.” Jarek harumphed.

‘Ohh, a fall to your death?’

“We will tie off, all of us.” Adran was solemn. “The rungs will be slick with moss and spray.”

“Aye, laddie, we will. If one o’ us slips, the others kin hold on tight.”

“If all of us slip?” Lia raised her eyebrows.

‘Then you all die! Haha! Death is death!’

“Ah! Eh!” Jarek harumphed again, cheeks blazing.

“Hey, relax, I am just asking.” Lia laughed.

“We might find how the duergar got in.” Seraphina added.

“Aye. Tha’ would be good t’ know. For when we come back.”

“We?” Lia arched one eyebrow.

“Not the four o’ you. When we come back t’ reclaim the hold. Resettle here.”

“You are going to leave Ironheim?” Seraphina asked.

“Me? I dinnae know. Some will. Perhaps, many. We cannae live alone down here alone. Someone needs to feed the settlers. Bring food, an’ coal, an’ goods.”

“What about ore? Or metal slugs? Is there a mine here?” Adran asked.

“Hasta be. Else Durgeddin nay woulda started tunnelin’.”

“We haven’t seen that yet.”

“Have’nt seen any enemies either. Not in days. You all wanna get moving or what?’

“Nay, we havnae. Has to be here.” Jarek joined the others in ignoring Durngreip.

“We didn’t explore around the Forge.” Adran sheathed his sword and picked up his bow. “Might have been there.”

“Would be convenient. Aye.”

‘Hello! I am talking!’

“It wouldn’t be down by the lake.” Lia looked out the door into main area. “But I can think of something to leave in the lake. A shiny metal object. Talks too much.”

‘Hey! I resemble that!’

“I know.”

“Nay. No’ withou’ some way to haul the ore up.” Jarek didn’t even hear Lia.

“We can keep musing over the mine’s location while we walk.” Adran nodded to the door.

“Malark lead.”

He bumped Lia aside and headed back into the large area with the fountain and score of remains. They waited by the next door while Jarek knocked out more wedges. The long tunnel was dark, the muffled thunder of the waterfall still drummed through the stone. The party moved quickly down the passage. At the hidden door Adran pulled out the coil of rope tying one end around his waist. He handed the coil to the next in line. Seraphina tied the line and handed it to Lia. She repeated the act and handed it to Malark. He tied it around his waist and handed the short end to Jarek. Setting his hammer down, he tied the rope tight. Looking up at Malark, he grinned his manic grin.

“Goin’ deep! Ah! I cannae wait!” He turned and inched across the slippery floor, letting the rope pay out behind him. The others slowly followed. At the ladder, he crouched down and grabbed one of the loops hammered into the stone. He gave them a thumbs up and Malark inched across the floor. The mists roiled and spread, concealing then revealing the moss-slick stone. Man and dwarf were wet in minutes.

“Ha! Tis a thunderous applause!” Jarek boomed. “Water carving stone!” He had a mad glint in his eyes.

Lia was moving before Malark grabbed the other iron loop. She slid her feet rather than picking them up.

“How deep does it go?” She yelled.

“No idea, lassie! A fair drop, methinks.”

‘Toss the dwarf! Let’s see how far it is! Haha!’ Durngreip laughed maniacally.

“Toss the axe. Listen fer a kerplunk!” Jarek scowled at the axe strapped to Malark’s back.

Seraphina crouched low and followed Lia.

“Its so loud!” She was grinning, barely visible in the hanging mists.

Adran brought up the rear, slowly moving across the floor. His bow was slung, freeing both hands for the long climb.

“You’ll have to leave the torch.” Adran yelled over the thunder.

Malark nodded, flinging the torch over the side.

“Two more.”

“That’s it?” Adran wiped water from his face.

“Long time in dark.”

‘If you ask nicely, I’ll show off again.’

“Please?” Seraphina called up.

‘Not you. The pretty one! No offense!’

“Offense taken!”

“Ask it!” Adran nodded.

“No way.”

“Malark can’t see!”

“Ask the axe!”

‘I have a name!’

“No one can see! Let’s just start climbing!” Lia yelled.

Jarek shrugged. Seraphina nodded. Malark patted Jarek on his round helm.

“Imma goin’!”

With that, we take our leave. AI generators failed mightily in my attempt to add more images. Everything was hot garbargem and nothing close to the prompts. I am going to have to have to dedicate some time to creating better images. I haven’t decided on one generator yet, but none seemed up to the task. Apologies.

BG

Malark grunted and headed to the next door, crossing the hall to get to it. The door was slightly ajar, and he used his axe to open it full. Looking in, torch held high, he turned to the others in a second.

“All smashed.”

“Search?”

“Nay, on t’ th’ next.”

No one argued, the tedium of searching a room full of debris outweighed the two small stones they found.

Recrossing the hall, further along, they moved to a closed door. Malark held his torch up, nodding to the door. Adran stepped up to pull the door, revealing a room as large as the room with the huge animated rug. The furniture was smashed, but not totally destroyed as in the other rooms. Several orc and dwarf skeletons lay across the chamber, along with two other, possibly human skeletons in chain armor. The human-sized skeletons appeared to be much more recent additions to the dead in the hold.

“More animated skeletons?” Adran hesitated.

“Possibly. Should we risk it? That chainmail looks like it is in fair condition.”

“By fair condition, you mean, valuable?” Adran gave a quick glance at Lia who was kneeling to peek into the room.

“Well yeah. I don’t use armor. Why else would I care?”

“Should we try it?”

“How about this? Malark steps in to see if they animate, if they don’t we can search the room.”

“Malark go.” The big man stepped in without waiting for anyone to agree with Lia. He hefted his axe, ready to strike or move back. He took several steps towards the skeletons, one slow step at a time.

Nothing happened. The skeletons remained piles of bone on the stone floor, and the dried-out chainmail-clad bodies did not rise as wight warriors. Remnants of fine furniture lay scattered about, and badly damaged tapestries hung from two of the walls.

“Someone had their way in here.” Lia was rummaging through one of the piles of bones. “Nothing on this one.”

Jarek was stripping one of the bodies of chain armor, unbuckling aged leather straps. Rolling the body over, he gasped.

“Oh, my. Kin it be?”

“What is it, Mr. Jarek?”

“This hammer.” He was cradling a finely wrought war hammer in his hands, slowly turning it to inspect it. “It is.” His voice was barely a whisper. “’tis another of Durgeddin’s creations. See?” He turned the hammer to expose the side of the narrow head. A stylized rune mark of a hammer and anvil was carved into the steel. “We have only found two so far. Each more precious than the last. This hammer, ‘tis powerful. I kin feel it.”

Jarek held the hammer reverently, turning it to inspect it from every angle. The others searched the scattered debris while the dwarf was quiet.

“Tis truly is a wonder.”

Lia rolled up the heavy chain shirt and stowed it in her pack.

“We are getting weighed down again. Many more coins and we won’t be able to fight.”

Jarek stashed the second set of chain armor, and strapped the hammer across his pack, hefting the heavy weight.

“Aye, armor, an’ weapons, an’ coins. Ah told ye there would be treasure for yer efforts.”

The party spent a few more minutes searching the room before they headed back into the hall. Malark crossed the passage and opened another door that only revealed a debris filled chamber.

“No search.” He announced for the others and he moved down to the next door.

Light from his torch spilled into a march larger space at the end of hall. Skeletal remains were clearly visible, sprawled across the floor. Four of the party members kept an eye on the remains while Malark opened another door.

“More mess.” He left the door open and crossed the hall to a metal bound door opposite.

Jarek pushed in front of the big man, one hand on the heavy door.

“This might be th’ armory. See how stout th’ door is?”

He pulled on the handle, all of them half expecting the door to be locked. The grating of corroded metal screeched loudly as the door swung open. Inside the large room were rows of empty weapon racks and a dozen or more armor stands indicating that this room was the armory. Some debris littered the floor, but the racks were empty. A solitary suit of lacquered armor with gleaming gold and red accents stood at the far wall. In its hands was a shining dwarven greataxe. Scraps of armor and a handful of crossbow bolts were the only other items scattered around the room. When all five of the party were in the room, they heard an eerie, disembodied voice yelling out.

‘Finally! Something to fight. It’s been frickin’ ages!’

Looking around, the five readied weapons, scanning for the source of the voice. It called out loudly again.

‘Go for the sneak attack!’ before whispering loudly, ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry. Go for the sneak attack.’

Flickering red-purple light spilled from the armor and it lurched forward, taking an unsteady step, arms creaking as it raised the greataxe.

“Uh, Jarek. I think we have another one of the ghost’s toys.” Lia had her crossbow up, aiming at the armor as it started to make steadier steps towards them.

Jarek smiled, letting his hammer fall as he held up one hand.

“Ye kin stop, yer dwarf master commands ye to stop.”

With each step, the amor moved more fluidly, the axe rising higher as it readied an attack.

“I said stop!” Jarek hollered.

“I don’t think this one understands.” Lia triggered her crossbow, sending the bolt into the helm. The thing staggered for a second, then attacked Jarek.

“What are ya doin’ ye stupid git!” Jarek’s hammer took some of the force of the blow, but he stumbled backwards from the impact.

‘Hit them hard, you dolt!’

The armored thing swung again, hitting Malark. Grunting, the big man took the hit, and swung his axe hard, bouncing it off the heavy, polished metal.

“Not hurt.” He groaned, barreling into the armor to avoid its axe.

The room was too confining, the weapons racks filling much of the space and blocking the others from helping.

The armor spun, tossing Malark aside and knocking one of the racks over.

“Boost me up!” Seraphina punched Adran. “Onto the racks.”

‘Kill. Kill! KILL!’ the voice continued to yell.

Cupping his hands, Adran formed a step that Seraphina used to get a boost up. She clambered onto the top of on of the long racks, and drew her blades, running down the heavy beam before leaping at the armor. It raised its huge axe, blocking her strike and sending her tumbling away.

‘Ha! I’ve known bunnies that do more damage than you!’ the voice shouted.

“Who is that?” Lia sent a bolt of flame into the helm, magical fire flickering around the vision slit.

“No idea.’ Adran had his longsword out, feinting and stabbing, trying to draw he creature’s attention while Seraphina scrambled away.

Malark knocked over another of the long racks, howling in anger and frustration, but creating more space for them to fight the armored beast. Jarek dodged an axe stroke, and smashed his hammer into the thing’s knee, trying to cripple its mobility. The armored thing reacted with another strike, hitting Jarek solidly and causing the dwarf to yowl in pain. Seraphina was mobile again, and behind the armored monstrosity. She ran forward, stabbing her blades at its joints, seeking a point of access. Two of her stabbing attacks glanced off, but the third stuck deep, causing the armor to arch its back and trapping the blade between plates of metal.

Swinging its axe, Seraphina narrowly missed the keen edge. Malark wasn’t so lucky, the blade opening a cut along his abdomen that flung droplets of blood as he twisted and fought. His anger was up, and he smashed his own axe into the armor, denting a pauldron and knocking it off-balance for a moment. Jarek used the brief advantage to hit the thing again, the hammer ringing off the metal. Adran parried the axe, deflecting the thing’s attempts to strike, but unable to do any damage himself.

The voice continued to taunt them.

‘Just save us time and impale yourself already.’

Lia sent more flames to the metal monstrosity, witchfire flickering over the surface for a brief moment. Seraphina jumped forward, using her momentum to drive her stuck blade deeper into the thing.

It turned violently, slinging the little woman aside, into another empty rack. Malark hit it again, severing an arm, but taking another hard blow from the thing’s huge axe.

“Get back, Malark, you are hurt!” Seraphina yelled. She ducked under the axe, drawing a dagger as she did, and stabbed it into the knee joint.

Adran parried the axe again, still unable to damage the thing. Lia’s fingers wove intricate patterns before her, and a ball of the black energy she often conjured began roiling between her hands. She flung them forward, sending the ball into the thing. The dark energy burst in the blue-white of glacial ice, shards piercing the metal in an explosion of ice and snow. The thing staggered, them it began to fold into itself, the metal crumpling and corroding, bursting into flames that melted the thing into a puddle of slag in an instant. The helm and the axe were all that remained.

‘Well, that is unfortunate.’ The voice spoke again. ‘Such is the way of things.’ It spoke with a touch of sadness. ‘Alright! Which one of you lucky devils gets to be my new champion?’

“Who is that? Speak up ye evil git!” Jarek was peering around the room, breathing hard.

Seraphina had run to Malark, and had her hands on the deep wound across his abdomen. Her eyes were closed and she was murmuring softly.

“Who speaks to us? Champion? Show yourself!” Adran challenged.

‘I’m right here, you silly dolts. Open your eyes.’

All of them looked around, even Seraphina as she continued her healing magics.

“Where? Our eyes are open.”

‘Are you serious? You lot bested my champion. Uh, former champion. Shall I lie here for another age, waiting for someone more noble and able?’ It taunted and chastised equally.

“We are here. We nay see a thing. Are ya tiny an’ hidden?”

‘Tiny? Ha! I am magnificent and massive. My flex woos the ladies.’

“Something is really weird here.” Lia was moving around, her fingers grazing the wooden racks.

‘Something is really weird.’ The voice mocked her in a nasally tone.

“I do NOT sound like that.”

‘I do not sound like that.’ The voice repeated.

Jarek picked up the axe, holding the head up to inspect it.

‘Finally! One of you noticed me!’ the voice shouted.

Jarek dropped the axe, the loud voice surprising him.

“Are ye th’ axe?” his voice was incredulous.

‘Are you the axe? I guess I know who is NOT the brains of this raggedy group.’

“It is the axe!” Jarek picked it up again. “The axe is speaking to us!”

‘Who else would be speaking? That empty headed bucket of rivets?’

Turning the axe to inspect it, Jarek looked closely at axe head and handle.

“Is it one of Durgeddin’s?” Seraphina’s eyes were closed again as she knit another deep gash closed on Malark’s chest.

“Aye, lassie. I see his mark.”

‘Of course I am not his. You think he could craft a being as mighty as I, Durngreip?’

“Durngreip? Literally, Durgeddin’s Hand?”

‘I have always been, I was not made. Silly dolt.’

“Do you ever stay quiet?”

‘Why would I stay quiet, when I am clearly the brains of this group?’

“We should leave it.” Seraphina looked over at the axe with a mix of disgust and revulsion.

Malark eyed the axe with envy. It shone in the torch light; the blade was keen and deadly.

“Methinks yer big friend has other plans.”

“Leave it, Malark. It is too mouthy and rude. Do you want to listen to it all the time?”

‘You can’t leave me. I am far too valuable.’

“Could you melt it down, Jarek, and make a new blade? One that doesn’t talk so much?”

“Aye, that I kin do.”

‘Fine. I’ll be quiet. Geez. Rude.’

“Take axe.” Malark was tying his own axe to his shield, then he slung it over his pack, and wrapped his fingers around the haft of the gleaming axe. He swung it once, then again. Hefting the mighty weapon in two hands. “Like.” In his hands the axe was the size of a normal battleaxe.

‘At least someone does.’ Durngreip pouted.

“What about the helm?” Adran toes the winged helm, with slits for eye holes.

‘Pay it no heed. ‘tis nothing. Never said a word.’

“The rest of the armor melted to slag. Yet the axe and helm remain. Curious.”

“What is curious is that you lot haven’t listened to a word I said. Leave the helm. Let’s go find a dragon to slay.’

Adran picked up the helm, turning it in his hands.

“Jarek? Did Durgeddin forge armor.”

“Aye, ‘e did. Why do ye ask?”

“Is this his mark?” Adran pointed to a deeply inscribed mark carved through the black lacquer of the helm.

Jarek moved closer, leaning in.

“Aye! It ‘tis his mark! Another relic. Do ye mind?”

Adran handed the helm to the stout dwarf, and he took his own helm of and set the winged helm in place. It shrunk, becoming the perfect size for the dwarf. All of them gasped to see such magic.

“I kin feel it buzzing with power. It is mighty.”

“Can you tell what it might do?” Seraphina was circling Jarek, inspecting the helm

“Nay lassie, I cannae tell. But there is a power here.”

Jarek removed the helm, replacing his own. He shrugged off his pack and tied the new helm in place, securing it with a few wraps of rope.

A quick search of the armory revealed no other treasure, and they left the room, turning towards the next chamber.

The hallway ended in a large open room. Three doors opened into it, all across from the hallway. A dark pool filled a low stone basin in its center. The chamber was littered with the remains of old warriors. Seven dwarf corpses lay where they fell a hundred years ago, surrounded by the remains of more than a dozen orc warriors. The dead had been stripped of their arms and armor; only a handful of broken weapons and shattered shields remain. Moving around the chamber, the party inspected the detritus of battle.

“There is nothing here. Everything of value has been taken. Armor. Weapons. Coins. All gone.”

“Nothin’ but th’ bones o’ th’ fallen. Left where they lie. They crafted fine tombs down in th’ Glitterhame, with no one t’ lay them t’ rest.”

“Should we?”

“’sides Durgeddin, we nay know who is who. Only who is dwarf, an’ who is not.”

“We could, though. We could help you take them to the tombs.”

“Many thanks, lassie, but no. When me kin come back, with proper rite an’ ceremony, then we kin lay them t’ rest. No offense.”

“Just offering. Seems so sad, seeing them laying here.”

“Aye, ‘tis sad, but we cannae help it. Fer now. Me kin will.”

Jarek moved from dwarf to dwarf, pausing at each set of remains to murmur a short prayer. He kicked the skull of one of the dead orcs, sending it sailing across the room.

‘That’s the spirit! Defile their bones!’

“Shut up, axe.”

‘I have a name, dwarf.’

“An’ I have a forge. A good an’ hot ‘un. Quite capable of melting you to slag.”

‘My apologies good dwarf.’

Malark laughed, a booming laugh that echoed across the chamber and down the hallways. He punted another orc skull, smashing into the wall.

‘Good man, good man! Crush your enemies and their bones!’

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to take that axe, always talking.”

‘Well, of course I am quite talkative now. You try spending years alone with an animated suit of metal plates. All business and no conversation.’

While they wandered around the room, Adran checked two of the doors that opened into the large chamber. He looked into both, only briefly before rejoining the others.

“All smashed and destroyed.”

“One door and a hallway.”

‘Well actually, there are two hallways.’

“What are you talking about?” Lia answered before she even realized who was talking. “Oh, it’s you.”

‘Oh, it’s you. Real friendly.’

“I am not having a conversation with an axe.”

‘Oh yes, you are! And I am NOT just an axe. I am Durngreip, slayer of kings, dragon bane, lord of sharp things, and all-around great guy.’

Lia rolled her eyes, shaking her head so hard her tresses flung back and forth.

“He really thinks highly of himself.” Seraphina whispered.

Before Lia could reply, a familiar wailing and screaming began. Muffled at first, the sound grew in intensity until a ghostly dwarf in mail armor appeared through a wall. Arms up, it wailed and cursed, Dwarvish oaths spilling from its mouth.

“Ah, fer hells sake, ye imbecile!” Jarek held his arms high, cursing at the ghost in Dwarvish, orcish and Common. “We are yer friends, ya silly twit! Come to cleanse Khundrukar an’ erase yer shame. Dint ya remember from two hours ago?”

The ghost slowed, lowering his arms and drifting to a stop. It blinked slowly, looking over the party, then back to Jarek. Babbling in Dwarvish, it moved closer to the other dwarf, feet still, drifting across the rubble and battle debris.

“Still here. Still huntin’ duergar. Nay gonna leave ‘til we clear the hold.”

“Ask him if there any more threats.”

“No, have him go kill the duergar in the Forge!” Lia’s face lit up. “Let him help!”

“Nay a bad idea. Lassie. They cannae kill him more, kin they?”

Jarek spoke with the ghostly figure for a while. The ghost threw his hands in the air and drifted away, passing through another wall.

“Well? Is he going to help?”

“Nay. Seems he has forgotten th’ way to th’ Forge.”

“Forgotten the way? What does that mean?”

“I cannae say, lassie. He said he has duties t’ attend t’, an’ defenses t’ prepare fer th’ orc invaders. An’ he left.”

“Can’t a ghost go anywhere they want?” Seraphina was pale again, and looked confused.

“I won’t claim to be an expert, but I think they get tied to a location after they die.” Adran spoke.

“This ghost…” Seraphina began before being interrupted by Jarek.

“Name is Arundil.”

“What?”

“e’ said ‘is name is Arundil.”

“Oh. Ok. Well, this Arundil. Isn’t he tied to the hold? I mean, to the whole place?”

“I cannae say, lassie, when we speak, it nay is a normal conversation. ‘e is,” Jarek paused and scratched at his beard, “distracted, o’ confused.”

“Too bad. I would like to see him go have at the duergar. Send them running away, or killing them all. Then we don’t have to.” Lia was examining the nails on her hand, a little flame flickering from each one.

“I hope he doesn’t come back.” Seraphina looked a little pale, and she kept looking around the chamber.

“Door.” Malark was standing next to the last door off the large room.

“Seems we have wasted enough time.” Lia, extinguished the tiny flames, and scooped up her crossbow, pulling a bolt from her quiver. “Only five more.” She flipped the bolt in the air, then laid it into the weapon.

Malark looked at each of the party, then pulled open the door.