The Game of Fates (11 page)

In
moments, the pair came up over a rise.  Though Trallik was alert, he saw
nothing out of the ordinary.  Just ahead of him, Arren had lowered his bow and
was pointing off the path to the right.

Trallik
walked to where the elf indicated and immediately saw what he was pointing at. 
Off to one side of the trail the young, spring grass was obviously depressed as
though someone had sat there for some time, probably having slept against the
tree that was there.  Trallik did not need the elf to tell him what had slept
there, however.  The place reeked of orc.  If the scent was not enough, the
foul bloodstains on the tree and on a makeshift bandage that had been cast
aside confirmed to the eye what Trallik’s nose had already made clear.

“It
would appear that we have a wounded orc in the area,” Arren observed.

Trallik
nodded his head.  “We killed a small group of renegade orcs far to the west of
here.  Also, I saw a band of orcs probably the night before last, and I heard
the others in my party speak of fighting orcs on the path to the eastern gen. 
That would have been yesterday morning, I believe.  Perhaps this is one that
got away.”

Arren
turned the foul bandage over with the tip of his arrow and knelt next to it. 
He studied it intensely for several moments then looked up at Trallik.  “This
orc will probably not last long.  His lung has been pierced.  The fluid from it
is all over this bandage, and it is tainted slightly yellow.  The infection
will likely overcome him in time.  I would imagine that he will not waste his
effort on dallying about.  I would expect he will make for his tribe’s caves
with whatever haste he can muster.”

Trallik
looked up and further along the trail.  They were in the northern foothills
now, and they were about to enter a canyon, the same canyon that this orc trail
led into.  Looking around the flattened area, he saw no signs that the orc had
headed away from the trail.  To the contrary, as he stooped closer he could see
the marks of the orc’s heavy boots making their way back onto the trail toward
the mouth of the canyon.

Arren,
standing twice as tall as the young kobold next to him, drew the final
conclusion.  “It would appear to me that we are not far behind this orc.  It is
good that orcs do not have heat vision, as he most probably traveled on this
trail and passed close by where you were sleeping last night.”

Trallik
looked somewhat discomforted by the revelation.

“Shall
we be after him?” Arren asked rhetorically as he continued along the path
toward the mouth of the canyon.

“I
guess so,” Trallik said as he adjusted his pack on his shoulders and
retightened the bag of rocks on his belt.

Trallik
and Arren sat on two large, flat stones, the kobold with his legs dangling over
the edge of the rock and the elf with his legs crossed, both of them looking
down into the low box canyon where they had found the cave entrance.  Following
Arren’s lead, the pair had not gone into the canyon, but had instead kept above
the floor of it, traveling along the lip of one of the short cliffs that formed
its walls.  As they reached the face of the mountain, the canyon had ended in a
rather large cave that appeared to have been recently revealed by something of
a landslide.  A short set of steps had been carved into the rock that led up to
the cave entrance, falling off on one side into a wide crack that had been
mostly filled with the debris that until recently had concealed the entrance.

What
had caused the entrance to be revealed was a mystery to the pair, but not only
had the dirt and rocks that had covered the entrance at one time been removed,
so had a massive boulder that, from the tar that was still evident both around
the entranceway as well as on the rock, had sealed the entrance at one time. 
Now the boulder lay with the rest of the rubble off to the side of the stairs
and something, or somethings, had done a sloppy but thorough enough job of
removing the remaining debris from the stone staircase.

Trallik
munched on a mushroom cap from his meat sack as his eyes rested on the
entrance.  He was still pondering on all that Arren had told him, and something
within him had been awoken.  Perhaps it was a greater sense of purpose, or a
reawakening of a dormant sense of duty.  Whatever it was, Arren’s words had
stirred Trallik’s soul and opened his mind to a much more expansive view of the
world.

“Arren,”
Trallik started tentatively.  Arren took another bite of traveling bread and
looked over at him.  “I was wondering.  I think your quest is noble.  Can I
join it?”

Arren
chewed for a bit, swallowed, then looked over at Trallik calmly and evenly.  “I
think you already have.”

“I
mean more than just guiding you to the Hall of the Mountain King,” Trallik
said.  “I would take your quest as my own.”

Arren
took another bite and chewed for a bit before chasing it down with a swig of
water from his water skin.  “My dear, young kobold,” he started.  “In fifteen
years you may feel that you know who you are and what you really want in life,
but I would tell you that you will spend most of your very short life figuring
that out.  Trust me.  I spent much of the first century of my life doing the
same.  If you reflect on your actions of the last few days, I think you might
more fully understand what I mean.  While your sentiment is admirable, I think
it best that we discuss this at a future time, perhaps after you’ve had more of
an opportunity to discover yourself we can revisit this subject.”

Trallik
had opened up and had been turned down, but he did not take offense.  He had
begun to trust this high-talking stranger, and had begun to see him more as a
master than a peer.

“Take
heart, young one,” Arren continued.  “Our first day together is far from
spent.  In time it will become clear whether you can truly take this quest upon
yourself.  I think before we are done with our journey, you will see things
perhaps a bit more clearly.”

T
he pair of strange companions had
not seen nor heard anything moving in the canyon below for some time.  Finally,
deciding to move in closer, the tall elf warrior had lowered the much smaller
kobold warrior down the side of the canyon with a slender, yet surprisingly
strong rope made of a material he called silk.  Moving up next to the entrance,
Trallik had stopped and listened for some time before signaling to Arren that
he heard nothing inside.

Holding
one end of the rope, Arren threw it around a tree, then taking the other side
he lowered himself down, collecting the rope up after himself and wrapping it
neatly before reattaching it to one side of his pack.  Approaching the cave
entrance, he drew the long-bladed pole weapon he favored from his back and
whispered a word in a tongue that Trallik did not recognize.

Trallik
gasped as the clear crystal on the end of Arren’s weapon shone with a pure,
white light.  “How did you do that?” he asked, astonished.

“What…
the light?” Arren asked.  “It’s but a simple spell to light the way for those
of us who do not have heat or dark vision.”  Arren looked at the kobold for a
moment as if sizing him up.  “You’re not going to be surprised at every little
thing I do are you?”

Trallik
was a bit taken aback by the question.  “Um… probably not.”

“Well,
good.  After all, one does pick up several tricks in five hundred years of
life, and bores quickly with people’s gawking at them.”

Trallik
nodded innocently.

“Well,
now.  You’ve got heat vision, and you’re not wearing armor.  How would you like
to go first into the cave, probably far enough ahead of me so that my light
will not disrupt your vision?”

Prompted
into action, Trallik walked up to the entrance.  As Trallik stopped to sniff
the air from the cave for a few moments, Arren walked up behind him.  The pair
had thought the cave entrance looked strangely round, not a natural shape.  Now
that they were closer, they could see the marks of chisels and other tools
around the inner part of the entrance.  That, and the smoothness of the floor
showed clearly that, though it appeared to have originally been naturally
formed, it had been expanded and improved at some time in the past.

From
inside the cave came a gentle flow of air.  From the base scent of it, Trallik
could tell that some underground flow of water had to be the cause.  He could
almost taste the limestone in the air.  The fresh scent of the air was
completely tramped, however, by the overriding foul smell of orc.

“I
smell orc,” Trallik said in a low voice.

Arren,
standing just behind him, replied in an equally low voice.  “So do I.  Does
your nose tell you anything more subtle?”

Trallik
tried to block the overriding reek of orc from his nose, to sort out whatever
else might be in the air.  For several moments, Trallik stood and sniffed. 
That there were other scents was sure, but Trallik was not able to make out
anything other than the scent of bats and rats.  Turning to the elf, he shook
his head.

Arren
motioned toward the entrance, encouraging Trallik to move forward.

Tentative
at first, perhaps because of his last horrible encounter in a dark place like
this, Trallik crept slowly forward, keeping close to the right wall.  Only a
few tens of steps into the entrance the path was obstructed by a large pile of
boulders that had mostly blocked the passageway, leaving enough room for a
kobold to walk upright over it but not larger folk like orcs or his elf
companion.  It was obvious to Trallik, however, as he clamored to the top of
it, that the rocks and dirt that formed the obstruction had been well packed
down by the passage of many less dexterous travelers.  In the near darkness,
with Arren’s light behind him and just enough light from the outside to prevent
his heat vision from functioning, Trallik was glad that most of the small
pebbles and unsteady rocks had already settled or been kicked off the path,
allowing him to crawl quietly up the slope.

At
the top of the pile of boulders, Trallik shielded his eyes from the light behind
him.  Arren seemed to understand what Trallik was trying to do and, with a
whispered word of command, he extinguished his weapon’s light.  In a few
moments, Trallik’s eyes began to adjust to the inky darkness of the passageway
beyond the obstruction. 

The
entire passageway was cooled by the gentle flow of air, leaving the details of
it mostly obscured in an inky blackness to Trallik’s heat vision.  Though it
would make it harder to be stealthy, Trallik knew this could work to his
advantage, as the bright heat signatures of living things would contrast even
more sharply in such an environment.

Seeing
nothing living, Trallik scrambled down the far side of the obstruction and sat
listening for a moment as he searched for a good-sized rock to keep in hand. 
He already had a bag with a few good stones, but these stones here were not
rounded by the rain and winter’s cold.  There were many sharp edges on the rock
he eventually selected.

Standing
again, Trallik began to make his way cautiously down the long, winding
passageway toward the heart of the mountain.

The
pair of travelers had gone far into the heart of the mountain, learning how
each other moved and getting familiar with each other’s abilities.  At first
Trallik had thought that the overlapping bands of metal that formed Arren’s
armor would rub together, making much noise in the confines of the caves. 
However, as he traveled ahead of the elf into the heart of the mountain, his
own breathing and footfalls sounded louder in his ears than any sound from
Arren to his rear.

Along
this main path, which had obviously been widened and straightened from its
original form, many lesser paths broke off at many an odd angle.  The main flow
of air, however, continued to come from the broad passageway to their front. 
At each of these side passages, many of them being no more than crawl spaces or
cracks in the rock, Trallik stopped, sniffed the air, and scanned for any signs
of living things.

Trallik
had found many rats this way, at least in the outer portions of the
passageway.  He had been tempted to collect a few of them for later eating, but
he did not want the noise that such an activity would bring, so he resisted the
temptation. 

Now
that the pair was much deeper in the mountain, the increasingly moist air,
mixed with the droppings of both cave insects and the rotting bodies of a
couple of foolhardy rats had started something of a fungus colony on a small
shelf-like passageway that was little more than a crawl space.  As Trallik took
out one of his knives to harvest some of the fresher mushrooms, a flicker of
light reflecting off a moist portion of wall farther inside the side passage
made Trallik freeze in place.

Arren,
who had been sitting in darkness listening to Trallik make his way ahead before
continuing, also saw the slight flicker of light.  Remembering the layout of
the passageway, he decided to not relight the crystal and instead felt his way
toward Trallik.  As he approached the young kobold with sightless eyes, Trallik
reached out and grabbed his hands, guiding him down to his level.  As he did
so, another flicker of light appeared, and this time it seemed to be staying
for a while.  As the pair looked up at it emanating from the lip of the
shelf-like passage next to them, they heard voices.

The
voices were too soft for Trallik to hear, but not so for the elf.  As the pair
sat in silence, Arren summarized the first few sentences he heard for the young
kobold.

“They
speak a crude dialect of orcish,” he whispered almost under his breath.  “It
appears that a group of orcs has encountered another orc… whose name is
Shagra.”

Trallik
waited in silence as the elf again listened.  He was amazed at how sensitive
the elf’s ears were.  To him, the low, gravelly voices of the orcs were little
more than a distant echo.

“The
leader of the group of orcs says that he’s no friend of Shagra’s, and that he
wants to know what happened to a couple of his warriors that their chief said
he had to send with Shagra,” Arren continued to translate.

After
a couple of moments, the pair heard a loud battle cry, followed by the sound of
swords clashing.  After a moment more, a cry of pain rang out through the
caves.  It was cut off abruptly and the sound of an armored body falling to the
ground seemed to end the conflict.

There
was a long pause.  Trallik looked at Arren, who seemed as curious as he.  “I
can crawl down the passageway.  Should I?” he whispered to the elf, who was
staring blindly at his face.

Arren
nodded slowly.

Trallik
set his backpack down next to Arren and stepped on top of it, to help him get
up onto the ledge.  Keeping clear of the mushrooms, Trallik crept toward the
opening at the back of the ledge.  It was barely large enough for him to creep
through on hands and knees.  As he started into the narrow passage a loud orc
voice shouted a command.  Trallik knew only a handful of orcish words, so he
did not bother to stop and listen.

After
only a spear’s throw worth of crawling, Trallik had made it almost to the far
end.  The passage bent around some to the right, and he had come across one
part that opened into something of a small, low chamber, the floor of which was
littered with bat guano.  After hurrying past that and scurrying over rock and
fungus, Trallik had come to a much larger chamber, whose ceiling was full of
bats, all hanging upside down in repose.  He came out of the crawlway onto a
high ledge and now had a partial view of the orcs.  As he came up behind a rock
that partially obscured the crawlway, he saw that he had come out well above
the orcs.

Being
careful to stay hidden, Trallik looked down from his perch.  Below him in the
tall cavern he could see what appeared to be an entire orc war party, some
thirty or so of them all in cold metal armor and carrying cold iron weapons. 
Most of them stood looking around at each other in an unsure fashion.  By the
way they stood, Trallik could tell that there were three leaders, all standing
to the front of the group.  They seemed to be looking to their front. 

From
the patterns of the heat that they exuded, Trallik could tell that most of the
orcs were feeling quite a bit of stress and adrenaline.  Looking around at what
could be the source of their quandary, he saw nothing.  Shifting to the other
side of the boulder to attempt to get a different view, he saw another orc, a
large brute who, by the heat escaping from his left arm and side, had been
wounded, probably by an arrow.  He stood, somewhat shakily, with his sword in
his good hand over the decapitated body of another orc who lay in a pile of bat
guano on the sandy floor.  As he watched, the large orc repeated something that
Trallik had heard multiple times already as he had made his way down the
crawlway.

He
did not speak orcish, but it seemed obvious to him what the large orc meant by
the gestures he was making to the dead body and by the uncertainty of the other
orcs.  It seemed that he was intimidating the other orcs into submission.  He
had already killed what appeared to be their leader, and now he seemed to be
directing his words, or more likely threats, at the three sub-leaders.

As
Trallik watched, the tension in the room mounted as the three sub-leaders
decided whether or not they should attack the larger orc—or join him.  After a
short while longer, and some discussion on the part of the three sub-leaders,
first one sub-leader knelt, then the second.  The third one, however, seeing
his two peers submit themselves, shouted angrily and rushed forward.  With one
quick swing, the larger orc decapitated the rash sub-leader.  With a thud, the
orc’s body fell heavily to the sand, its head falling at the feet of his
warriors.  With the death of the last who stood in his way, the rest of the
orcs quickly knelt before the large orc.

It
was at that precise moment that Trallik’s hand, as he was attempting to get a
better view of the large orc, bumped a rather small bat hanging upside down
from a small stalactite.  Unfortunately for Trallik, that small bump was enough
to knock the bat loose.  It fell to the floor of the shelf Trallik was on,
screeching and fluttering as it went.  As Trallik watched in absolute horror,
the little bat flew upward to the top of the high vaulted ceiling of the tall
chamber that he and the orcs were in.  Turning to see what had caused the
disturbance, the large orc locked eyes with a very distraught Trallik.

Having
been roused by the small bat that Trallik had disturbed, the huge bat
population, which apparently had been content to stay put through the orc
argument, decided that now was the time to evacuate the area.  In a matter of
moments, the entire chamber was filled with the confused flapping, bumping, and
screeching of many hundreds of bats.