The Dragon God (Book 2) (24 page)

Spilf announced, “We are not going to find anything out until we free these people. Let’s focus on retrieving the diamond and breaking this spell-trance they are in.”

They nodded in agreement. The heroes eventually discovered metal tracks in the center of the red-hued walkway. Dulgin informed them that this was dwarven design; originally these depths had been mined for raw materials for building up into the mountain, including these rails to cart away debris. They followed the tracks and further down, they came upon a group of slaves throwing larger pieces of rock into a wheeled wooden box, reinforced with metal strapping.

“I have an idea,” Bridazak said. “Spilf and I will hide inside a cart while you both cover yourself in the soot and pretend to be one of the Shiell-Zonn drones. Dulgin, you will have to remove your armor and also hide your weapons in the cart with us.”

“Not really liking this idea much,” the dwarf scoffed.

“We will be fine, Master Dulgin.”

“If there is any action then Spilf can quickly hand you your weapons while I slow them down with arrows.”

Dulgin reluctantly accepted, “Fine.”

All weapons and Dulgin’s armor were placed inside the wooden box. The daks climbed in after helping the others with their dirt smudged disguise. Bridazak and Spilf smirked after seeing the vibrant glow of their eyes under the blackened soot. Even Dulgin’s red beard was darkened, completely transforming him into another dwarf.

The cart wobbled along the barely functional track system, accompanied by a persistent squeak, which echoed through the tunnel. Their wary eyes glanced down side channels, where more slaves hammered and chiseled away. The further on the track they went, the more slaves they encountered. Soon throngs of them combined, forming a cacophony of ear-splitting mining. Dulgin and Abawken spotted several goblin patrols in the vicinity, but none close enough to be a threat, but then they turned a bend and saw a band approaching.

“This is it; time to test out your plan,” Dulgin whispered.

The dwarf and human kept their heads down as they slowly pushed the heavy load. The ordakians sunk lower and readied for any failure in the ruse.

The smelly goblin patrol, surrounding their goffen, came closer. The heroes’ senses heightened as they held their breath in anticipation. There were hundreds of goblinoids in the area. One miscalculation would end their lives here in Ruauck-El. Dulgin and Abawken could feel the Goblin’s eyes scanning them as they watched their sludge-covered feet pass by.
The human staggered as the overwhelming toxic fumes assaulted him. Thankfully, he was able to support himself on the wooden carriage. They had made it. The trick had worked, but before they could let out a sigh of relief, Dulgin stiffened as a trailing goblin decided to take a whiff of the dwarf. Short bursts of inhaling, like a dog sniffing after a scent, encompassed Dulgin’s ears. Then it faded and the goblin returned to its duties.

The dwarf let out his held breath, “That was close.”

“Too close,” Abawken responded.

Dulgin squinted and pointed up ahead, “The tunnels are becoming more numerous, and I see more tracks. We might be approaching the sifting chamber where they will screen the rock. At least that is a dwarf thinkin, not one of these goblins. Who knows what the hell they are up to?”

After another hundred yards, they emerged into an immense cavern. Slaves, too numerous to count, littered the depot as they mingled amongst roaming guards. Carts came and went from tunnels in all directions, dumping their payload into rock piles where a collection of trance-induced races would sort and sift through the debris. Others broke the larger rocks brought to them into the quarry.

A diamond, the size of a Dwarven fist, was nestled twenty feet overhead. Its dazzling brightness stood out atop of the stalagmite structure in the center of the chamber. Beams of light spread out with a magical power resonating from inside the gemstone.

“How are we going to get that?” Spilf gasped as they slowly continued on the worn track system.

“We will have Huey fly up and grab it,” Dulgin suggested.

“Master Dulgin, King Morthkin stated that only a good dwarf can obtain the Sky Diamond.”

“Well, I can’t climb up there.”

“I can, for lack of a better term, float you up to it. Once you retrieve it, then the curse will be broken.”

Bridazak added, “We can’t have the horde come down and destroy everyone. All the slaves will be wiped out, including us. We have to create a distraction that won’t bring the masses to investigate.”

“What exactly are these goblins doing down here?” Spilf asked.

“Who knows, Stubby? These are mindless beasts, but if they continue digging all these tunnels without any rhyme or reason then they will be having some cave-ins for sure.”

The group slowed their walk into the cavern, continuing to ascertain the situation and come up with a plan. They were running out of track as they approached a waiting group of slaves going through the piles. The heroes spotted a back section where the drones were pitching the debris into a mine-shaft, but instead of piling up, it vanished into the endless darkness below. Bridazak noticed several tunnels with a strange wooden marker above their entrances. They saw no patrols, nor slaves enter or exit these openings.

“Dulgin, what do the signs say above the darker tunnels?”

“What signs, ya blundering fool?”

He pointed in the direction and the dwarf squinted, “It says in goblin, ‘Crash’, but that don’t make a bit of sense.”

“Maybe, it is a tunnel ready to collapse,” Spilf suggested.

“Let’s make our way to one of them so we can hide and strategize. Those tunnels don’t have any movement,” said Bridazak.

The ordakians crept from the cart just before reaching the end of track. They distributed Abawken’s and Dulgin’s weapons and huddled around the dwarven armor, carrying it together, as they kept their heads low and weaved between the endless slaves, avoiding the guard patrols. Within a minute they reached one of the ‘Crash’ titled openings, hurried in, and hid within the shadows, peering back out into the lighted work camp.

“Now what?” Dulgin asked while donning his dented armor.

“Let’s find out what ‘crash’ means,” Bridazak suggested and then took a step into the passage.

Dulgin led the party until they were out of sight of the main chamber. Once there, Abawken caused his sword to glow.

Spilf frowned, “I have been lighting torches and this entire time you could have had your sword do that?”

“My apologies, Master Spilf, but it only gives off low light, and you needed the warmth.”

The dwarf snapped, “Shut your traps. I see something up ahead.”

They crept closer to the strange stalagmite Dulgin had seen and pointed out to the others.

“What is that?” Bridazak asked.

“Not sure, but it is no
fichin
.” The dwarf answered their questioning looks before they could speak, “Dwarven word for stalagmite.”

“How can you tell?”

“Cause it’s moving.”

They approached the strange silhouetted object, slowly. When they were thirty-feet from it, Dulgin raised his closed fist sharply, halting them. He nodded, indicating they were to turn back. They did as instructed. When they were far enough away, Dulgin said, “That is known as a screamer. Any loud enough sound will cause it to shriek uncontrollably as a defensive measure. I’ve seen their shrieking bring down the toughest of dwarves. The goblins use them in their warfare tactics.”

“Why is it down here?” Spilf asked.

“Because they want the tunnels to fall,” Bridazak answered. “They plan on bringing down the Shield once and for all. That is why they are digging all the tunnels and they have the slaves to sacrifice. It will kill them all.”

“They still have several months of work to do before that will happen,” Dulgin surmised.

“Somewhere amongst all these people, are my parents. How are we going to find them?”

They looked long and hard at one another as the complexity of the situation continued to layer itself. Bridazak placed his hand into the middle of their gathering. The others understood and each placed theirs on top.

Bridazak prayed aloud, “Lord, we need your help. We are not sure what we need to do and ask for your guidance amongst our enemy.” He ended and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Well, did you get the answer?” Dulgin blurted.

Bridazak chuckled, “No my friend, not yet.”

“Why isn’t he answering us?”

Bridazak smirked, “C’mon, it will unfold itself in due time.”

Staying hidden in the shadows, they made their way back to the opening.

“Why don’t you just call on him like you did at the village and smite all the goblins?” Dulgin asked.

“That time, I felt a sort of instinct, almost like an invisible nudging to do that, but I’m not feeling anything like that right now.”

Dulgin suddenly pushed Bridazak, “Did you feel a nudge now?”

Bridazak smiled, “It doesn’t work like that my friend.”

“Well, he gave you the box, the Orb of Truth, a magical bow and arrows, ability to see angels, oh, and don’t forget about challenging other gods and winning. I’m sure a nudging is forthcoming.”

Spilf pointed to the chamber, “Guys, something is going on out there.”

The goblins throughout the massive enclosed space fell to their knees and lowered their faces into the dirt. A golden statue of a huge, muscled goblin adorned with a gem encrusted crown was slowly being carried through the room on the shoulders of several robed members of the foul race, on display before the bulk of the goblin army. A metallic voice echoed from the image, “Roth kemtock viemont koth-vutoth!”

In unison, the goblin followers yelled, “Gock-Turnin!”

As the effigy passed, the clan rose one by one, and followed the procession back into the largest tunnel entrance in the area.

“What is happening?” Spilf asked.

“This is their time of worship to their king. The prideful bastard Gock-Turnin needs his followers to revere him.”

“I believe God has given us our answer. This is the moment to get the Sky Diamond, and get our people out of here.”

Dulgin grinned, gripped his axe, and said, “Nudging time.”

Several minutes passed as the throngs of goblins exited the area, but a handful of guards stayed behind.

“Dulgin, are Stone Elementals common for goblins to encounter in the mines?” Bridazak asked.

“Not common, but I’m sure it has happened. Why?”

“Time for our distraction.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Let’s see what happens when you combine a rock monster, some goblins, and a screamer.”

R
ozelle found Trillius below deck, sitting on a wooden crate in the same storage room they had hidden in when they first stowed away aboard
A Pinch of Luck
.

“What are you doing, Trillius?” she demanded.

He casually turned, rolled his eyes, and sarcastically answered, “Um, it appears that I am sitting on my favorite crate within my favorite room.”

“No, I mean, what is wrong with you? You have been distant, irrational, irritated, and—”

He snapped, “And what, Rozelle?”

“I don’t know, you are just different.”

“I am finally being me. If you don’t like it, then leave,” Trillius scoffed.

Rozelle’s brow furrowed, “How can you say that? You are nothing but a
phelping
,
sootkin
…” she stuttered, searching for more gnomish insults, shoulders tense, until she let it all out with a shout, “I am leaving you!”

Trillius smirked, hopped down from his crate, took Rozelle’s arm, and ushered her out the door, “Give my best to the trees.”

As she stormed off, Trillius playfully swayed back and forth as if he were waltzing with an imaginary partner and danced back to the wooden crate.

The soothing, powerful voice of Dal-Draydian, continued to coach him, speaking inside his mind,
“You have done well, Trillius. Beyond my expectations. You will have unfathomable wealth. Each day I grow stronger because of you.”

“Thank you,”
Trillius replied and chuckled,
“Care to dance? I am feeling a whole lot better now that I am rid of that heavy sack of grain.”
He tilted his head back, spread his arms, twirled in his dance and laughed,
“As usual, Dal-Draydian, you were right.”