High gloom, p.27
High Gloom, page 27
part #6 of The Bad Guys Series
But then I heard the sound of metal boots on stone floor.
A door opened up in the wall behind Rhal — a wall I hadn't even realized had a door.
Two huge beings clad head-to-toe in dark black armor, very much like what Rose wore, stepped out. They were big. Like minotaur big. They didn't have horns, otherwise I'd have thought they were minotaurs. They stood on either side of the open door, through which I could see a small passageway that looked to have been carved out of the rock.
"Good luck," Rhal said, standing up.
"That way?" I asked.
She nodded at me.
"Gents," I said to the two armored giants.
They said nothing in return.
One stepped in front of me to lead me down the passage, while the other followed very close behind. I could hear them breathing in their armor, which meant they were, at the least, alive in some capacity.
It was dark and damp in the tunnel, and it twisted around in ways that didn't make sense given where I thought Rhal's office was located within the cavern. It was all quite bizarre and disconcerting. And the two walking suits of armor didn't talk. They didn't fidget or cough or anything — they just clanked along. I was half hoping one of them would knock their head on the ceiling, just so they'd be forced to react. It seemed like the passageway had just enough room for the warriors to pass along without scraping their helms, but damn, it was close.
Finally, though, we came to another wide open space. This one seemed slightly more natural than the other areas of Gloomguard. In fact, it looked a bit more like the Gloom itself. There were stalactites hanging down from the ceiling, stalagmites growing up from the floor, and plenty of spots where the two met and formed tall, funky columns. The cave curved around to the right, and I could see plenty of warm yellow and orange coming from there. Almost like there were bonfires going. It was one of the first times I'd seen something welcoming in the Gloom or in Gloomguard.
The guard in front of me stepped to the side, and stood at attention next to the door we'd just entered from, followed quickly by his comrade, who also took up a spot against the wall. Looking around the space, I could see many similar guards at regular spacing around the cavern, blending into the walls thanks to their matte black armor.
Who was this Girgenerth guy? I chuckled to myself, because I would finally find out.
As I walked, alone now, through the large open cavern leading towards the big right turn, I took in the sheer size of this place. It was beyond massive because I was just in the equivalent of the foyer, and it didn't seem like the turn was getting any closer. But it was. Just slow-going.
My footsteps echoed throughout, a slight squelch and stick with every step. The spider boots were not without their downside. Perhaps not the best for sneaking about.
The turn came. I rounded it, and stopped in my tracks.
This was not at all what I'd been expecting.
63
In front of me was an open space the likes of which I hadn't seen anywhere underground. Or, really, anywhere. It was huge. Monumental. Beyond comprehension. Maybe a hundred feet in from me was a set of stairs that led down into a pit that had probably been empty at one point. You know, before whoever lived here started filling it up with treasure. Coins were piled on coins as far as I could see. Jewels glinted in the light, and furniture made of obviously precious metal was just tossed in haphazardly. There were paintings all over one wall, in every sort of style and size, with only inches of the smooth black stone peeking out from behind them. Huge baskets hung from dark iron chains, each filled to the brim with wood, or something akin to wood, that was burning. The fires provided immense light to the area.
There, in the middle of the gold and treasure, was the head of a dragon. It had to be a dragon. There was nothing else it could be. It was the size of a house. Nostrils so large I could crawl through them. It had brilliant green scales in a full gradient of light to dark. Horns came off the top of his head in a swoop, with spikes that followed his cheekbones down along his snout and out to his nostrils. His eyes were closed, though. He was sleeping?
I walked closer, but paused at the edge of the pit, my toes hanging over the edge of the first step. I felt like, maybe I shouldn't be so brash as to walk into a dragon's, um, bed?
Glancing to either side, I saw more of the armored guards, all in the same matte black armor. There was a little more variation in size here, thought not much. And they were spaced at regular intervals as far as I could see.
"Um," I said quietly, "I don't want to bother, I mean, if you're sleeping—”
His eyelids flicked open, and huge green orbs moved around, searching. When they locked on me, the dragon took in a breath and huffed it out.
His head rose. And rose and rose. Coins scattered off his neck, and then his body as he emerged from his rather odd sleeping spot. Finally he stepped one monstrous leg out of the coins. He pushed the rest of his body out, and the noise of the treasure thrashing around was hard to listen to — it was so incredibly loud. I winced, pushing my hands against my ears.
Then he stepped forward, and each time his foot hit the coins, there was a rumble I could feel though my feet. He was beyond big, and my brain was having having trouble with what I was seeing. He moved slowly, but that felt like it was just for show. He kept coming closer and closer until his head was above me, at least a hundred feet up.
He stretched out, standing up on his hind feet, wings flaring out to either side a hundred yards, probably more, wide. Just that act of moving caused wind to rocket around the chamber, and a few of the fires went out above.
Immediately, someone went clambering down the chain to the fire to relight it. I couldn't make out what kind of creature it was, but all the fires were burning again within seconds.
"You have come to gaze upon the dragon?" he asked, his voice booming out across the room, echoing in the vast empty space behind me. "See the majesty of my being in the one place you know you might survive? Have a story to tell in the taverns until your children beg you to stop?"
I frowned. I was definitely in awe right up until that moment. It was just a poor turn of phrase, and it kind of ruined the dragon's self-professed majesty for me.
"Actually," I said, "I didn't know you were a dragon right up until I turned the corner."
His head snapped down and he looked at me, his great big dragon eyebrows angling down in disbelief.
"Also," I continued, "are you Girgenerth? Because I need to talk to Girgenerth.“
He leaned back and raised an eyebrow, almost sneering at me. "You do not know me?"
“Sorry. Never heard of you, didn't know there was a dragon in here. Bit of a shock coming around that corner, tbh."
"Tbh?"
"To be honest."
"Ah."
"But yeah, I had no idea you were, uh, you. But you are Girgenerth?”
"Yes," he said dismissively, "I am Girgenerth."
Congratulations! You’ve completed a QUEST!
Seek and Destroy Part One
You have found Girgeneth
Reward: Increased chance of surviving
Nice that the quest completed to let me know he was telling the truth.
"Then you're who I'm looking for,” I said, “great.”
"And to what do I owe your search, if not for my dragon-ness. Are you one of those sycophants who think there is a secret method to becoming a dragon and I might let it slip?"
"No, I—”
"Because there are only two ways a new dragon is made, and one of those is but a legend I've grown to doubt."
"Is the other dragon sex?" I asked. "I bet the other is dragon sex. Although you probably just call it sex.”
He frowned at me.
"Listen, all joking aside, I have a unique sort of a problem, and my uh, mentor told me that you might be able to help."
He sighed, and made to turn around for his hoard again. "The problems of mortals bore me," he said. "And I do enough—”
"The Fayden did warn me you'd say that," I lied.
At the mention of The Fayden, the dragon's neck went rigid.
He slowly turned to face me.
"The Fayden, you say?" he asked.
"That's my mentor, yes. The man who sent me here to speak with you."
"He sent you? He suggested me?"
"It might have been his wife who brought your name up first," I replied. 'I can't quite recall."
He finished turning his whole body around, and then dropped his head until he was roughly at my height. He sniffed me. A few times.
"You smell strange," he said.
"I did bathe recently," I replied. "But—”
"Silence."
I shut up. There was something seriously intense about a dragon giving you orders.
He looked me over from one direction, and then moved his head around to look at me from behind. I could feel the wind from his massive body shifting, as well as the heat dripping off him. This close, I could see myself reflected in his scales, with just the hint of green all over me. The scales on his neck were as large as kite shields, and I wondered if they could be used as such. Did they fall out? Did he ever shed scales? Was that an impolite thing to ask a dragon?
Girgenerth finished his examination and pulled back. He reached one of his huge arms out to me, heavily muscled with darker scales, and long fingers ending in conical black claws. He held out his hand, flat.
"Up," he said.
I took a breath, and then stepped onto his palm, holding onto one claw to balance myself.
Gently, for him at least, he closed his fist around me. There was a fraction of a degree between me being totally squished and me being fine.
Then it felt like lightning shot through me. My back tried to arch, but I was being held in place. My throat wanted to unleash a scream, but my jaw was so tightly clenched, I couldn't make noise. And as fast as it started, it ended.
He dropped me on the ground, gently, clearly knowing that what he'd done would make me more like a well-cooked noodle than the elf I really was.
I coughed a few times, and I swear I saw smoke come out of my mouth.
"You do have an interesting problem," the dragon said. He was sitting back on his haunches, scratching his chin with one hand. Lazily, he stretched his wings out wide, and then brought them back in. The wind they created knocked me over. "Tell me, why is The Fayden your mentor?"'
"Curiosity?" I managed to eke out.
"I suppose that could be true," Girgenerth said. "Did he say I was a friend?"
"I don't recall."
"Hrm, politick. Tell me why I should help you."
"I pique your interest?"
"There is that, but—”
"Forgive me for saying this, but you seem bored."
He raised his eyebrows. "Bored?"
"Maybe?"
"What is it you think I do here?"
"I was going to say that you lounge around in a big pile of gold, but now I'd imagine you're going to correct that assumption."
"Yes, I am. I am the reason Gloomguard exists, little elf." He stretched himself up higher. "I sleep here in this big pile of gold because I power the portal to the Gloom, and I power the wall that keeps those in the Gloom from crushing Gloomguard. I am the last line of defense from the big bad things that desperately want to push into this side of the world and destroy all they find."
"All well and good. But that also seems like, I mean, droll?"
"Droll? Droll? And what would you find exciting? The Maze? I smell its stench on you. The Mad God's noxious odor wafts off you like--"
"I have no love for the maze. I only did it because I had to meet you."
That seemed to calm him down just a tad.
"Ah. Yes. I'd forgotten that. Most who seek an audience with me do not complete the trials — my flow of visitors has been in a bit of a dry spell."
"You do seem eager to talk."
"Yes, well, some of us dragons do appreciate social engagements."
"Most of your kind are soloists?"
"It is more common, yes. But I fear I have spent too many years around your kind, and now I enjoy conversation."
"Your guards are into chatting?"
He glanced over at the armored men and women along the walls.
"They view this as a religious duty," he said. "They would not sully something so important with conversation."
"I don't mean to devalue them," I replied in almost a whisper, "but do they realize they're guarding a dragon?"
He raised one eyebrow. "It has been a topic I've broached on occasion. But they are insistent and I grew weary. Now. Your problem."
"Yes?"
"I admit to not having seen anything like this before, and it is quite, erm, intriguing."
"Also relatively fast-acting.”
"Yes, your timetable is short here, elf."
"Clyde Hatchett."
"Hrm?"
"This elf's name."
"Ah. Clyde."
"Girgenerth."
He smiled, which I think he thought was going to be pleasant for me. But in reality it was terrifying to see exactly how big his teeth were, and how many he had. I could stand next to one of his canines, and it would be taller than me.
"You have a tjene," he said. "Why?"
"Um, it was kind of forced upon me."
"Oh? Is there a reason you have not released your thralls?"
"I wouldn't call them thralls—”
"And how would you prefer I call your slaves?"
"They aren't slaves."
"Are they free to go?"
"As far as I'm concerned, yes. But they seem to, I guess, not see it that way."
"Why have you not freed them then?"
"I didn't know I could. I thought it was permanent."
"There is little truly permanent in this world, elf. And certainly nothing as ridiculous as the tjene."
"The Carchedonians don't see it that way.”
"Then ask them some time why they've never bothered trying to conquer Raim? Count the Carchedonians who actually come down to Gloomguard. I daresay there are none out there now, are there?"
"I haven't taken a survey, but—”
"They remain away because they know I will tear apart their slavery contracts without even leaving my chambers."
"You haven't torn mine up."
"I am waiting to see who you are first," he said. "It is certainly something I am considering, and also a reason I have not yet agreed to help you."
"Can you tear it up in a way where they don't get screwed out of the XP and whatnot they have gained so far?”
He tilted his massive head a little. "Why does that matter?"
"Because it's — I mean, levels are kind of important to us wee mortals."
"Of course they are."
"Do you have a level?"
"Yes."
"And a character sheet?"
"I do."
"That's got to be something."
"It is certainly something," he said. "I do not know what the effects would be on your thralls should I break your tjene. I cannot say I have ever been concerned about that."
"You know, after going through Carchedon and learning about tjenes and slavery, you probably just made it so those people became actual slaves back home, without any of the safeguards given to tjenes."
"No, I doubt that would happen. Once freed, they would return home a free person."
"Nope. That definitely didn't happen."
"And why is that?"
"Because Carchedon is built on slavery, and all the rich and powerful people do is try and figure out new and slimy ways to trick more free people into becoming slaves. There's a whole industry. That's partly why people join a tjene: to get out of that slavery loop."
The dragon looked at me, considering what I'd said.
"Perhaps I have been rash," he said slowly. "It may require that I do more research."
"Ah, if it's research you want," I replied, holding up a finger, "I have a friend you should speak to. That's all he does, research. And he's from Carchedon."
"Is he, now?"
"He is. Also a member of my tjene, but maybe the two of you could—”
The dragon barked out something in a different language.
Smashing! You’ve learned a new language, Draconic.
"... immediately."
One of the guards along the wall stamped their feet against the ground, and then went off at a sprint.
"If you'd prefer," I said in draconic, "we can continue in this language.”
"Nice trick, elf," the dragon said in Carchedonian. “Now. I know of a way that we might fix you. It is a theory. I have been thinking on it while we have been speaking, and I believe it may work. Or it might not. It's hard to tell because I don't know of this issue arising before."
"I'm willing to try it."
"Naturally you are," he said. "But there are others who must play a part in this. And there are the materials we would need for it to work."
"I can get things."
"You eagerness is off-putting. Allow me to explain before you offer your services so readily. I can assure you, the corpse-king will not dare rise in my presence. Certainly not at this moment, even if it could. So you may as well relax in this space."
"Can I ask why he wouldn't?"
"Because he can surely sense me here, and knows that I am more than his equal in power and might. If he were to take you over, I would be forced to summarily destroy you. And if there is one constant amongst the more powerful undead, it is the desire to remain."
“Oh.”
"The ritual I'm thinking of requires two material components. Lifeclay and Bloodcrystals. These will be consumed in the ritual. But they are rather difficult to come by — lifeclay in particular. Given our, or your, time constraints, I fear there is but one way to get the lifeclay."
"Which is?"
"From the Mad God himself. You will have to speak to the Mad God and have him agree to give you some as a reward for clearing his maze again."
"Awesome. I'm just thrilled I get to go back to visit that assbutt."
