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Date Posted: 17:06:07 04/14/03 Mon
Author: Adaron, Leila, Brage, & Gelan
Subject: The quad breaks free of Drimmen-deeve
In reply to: Leila, Gelan, Adaron, & Brage 's message, "Continuing through Drimmen-deeve" on 17:04:18 04/14/03 Mon

Once more an intense lash of fear brought them to their feet before it swept on, leaving them standing in grim alarm. "Aie," moaned Brage, "we must get out of here."

"Let us go now," said Adaron, taking up Bale, "for to wait invites disaster."

Leila hefted her pack up again and the troop started off. She had slept each hour that they stopped, if only for forty-five minutes each time, though this round she'd gotten almost the full two hours, so she was feeling at least somewhat better than perhaps the others. Adaron she worried for the most, for he had not even slept in the Bottom Chamber when the other three had.

Upward the passage led, rising gently, curving leftward then right again. Bale's blade-jewel flickered a faint ruby, the glimmer slowly growing, warning of a distant danger coming closer as the four strode on. Quickly they marched between vertical walls under an arched roof. Along the way, deep-carven runes were etched in the walls, but the Deevewalkers took no time to reach the ancient messages. Long they strode, nearly two hours, and no side entrances nor exits did they see; nor were there crevices, only smooth carven walls. And the roadway continued to curve gently upward, turning left once more and again rightward. At last they came to a huge cavern, its ends lost beyond seeing in black emptiness. Bale now cried that evil lurked near, and their hearts pounded in dread, but no sign of any foe did they see. "Quick, across the floor and out the passage to the east, for evil is coming." commanded the Elf. They strode great strides upon the stone. Two hundred yards, three hundred, and more they went, and still the black emptiness stretched out before them.

"This is the Great Chamber of the Sixth Rise," panted Brage. "We are less than two miles from the Daun Gate"

"Hsst!" shushed Adaron, sheathing Bale. "Look ahead. Lights. Something comes. Shutter the lantern, Brage." Ahead reflected from a portal far to the east.

"South, too," hissed Gelan, pointing to lights coming up a passage that way also."

"To the north a passage stands dark." Brage's voice was low and urgent.

"North it is!" barked Gelan, and they bolted across the stone floor, Brage's lantern hood now but barely cracked, the faint light showing them the way. No sooner had they entered the north passage than from the east and south, Rucks and Hloks beyond count boiled into the Great Chamber. "It is the Horde," said Gelan, his voice weary as he peered out at the distant tide of Spawn flooding into the Great Chamber. "They have come at last across the Quadran Pass and into the Black Hole to join the Gargon."

"And the Horror will use the Deeves as a black fortress and launch War against Galion Forest, and the Spaunen will be his army." Adaron's words fell grim.

"But first the Squam will search for us," snapped Brage, "and if we would escape to warn the Larkenwald, let us fly now." North they fled, nearly two furlongs before coming to a broken door upon the right. The corridor stretched on before them, turning to the left in the distance, but they could see torch light reflected around its curve. "Quick, in here!" cried Brage, and they bolted through the damaged door. They came into another great chamber, narrow but lengthy, and with a low ceiling. One hundred paces long it was and only twelve wide, and an exit could be seen at the far eastern end. But supporting the ceiling mid way was a massive arch, and great runes of power were carved into its stone. And as they started across the floor for the distant exit, Brage's eyes fell upon signs of an ancient battle: broken weapons, shattered armor, the skulls and bones of long-dead combatants. And smeared upon the walls in a black icor now dried were the Dwarven Runes: Braggi "Braggi!" he cried. "That is Braggi's rune, written in the blood of Squam. He came to slay the Ghath but was nevermore seen." On they strode without pause, passing now among the remains of the battle-slain. Dwarf armor there was, and the plate of Spawn, as well as shattered axes, broken scimitars, War hammers, and cudgels. Brage cast his hood over his head as they hurried onward. "Here in the Hall of the Gravenarch, Braggi made his stand. But the signs tell the tale that the Ghath came and slew Braggi and his raiders as they stood frozen." Brage shuddered, his gaze darting into the far reaches of the hall, his glance seeking now to avoid the mute evidence from that long-ago time when the Gargon stalked down the length of a fear-rooted Dwarven column, the monster slaying as it went, and when the hideous creature had come to the last Dwarf, Braggi and his failing raiders were no more.

Across the floor swiftly the four strode for the eastern portal, coming to the rune-marked Gravenarch. Just as they passed below it, the surging fear of the Dread pounded through their veins, yet this time it did not sweep on past them but stayed locked upon their hammering hearts, and terror arrested their steps. "He has found us!" gasped Adaron. "He comes, he is near!"

Gelan's lungs were heaving, yet he could not seem to get enough to breathe, and his limbs were nearly beyond his control, for he could but barely move.

Leila stood frozen in sheer terror. Unable to move, to speak, to even breathe. Her skin grew ashen beneath the caramel surface and she felt faint as her heartbeat could be likened to that of a panicked sparrow trapped within a cage. They had to get out--had to run--but they could not. Finally she forced herself to breathe, a great gasp filling her lungs with air. It took a great deal of concentration, but she moved from her position, arms and legs trembling, but at least she was able to move and could run if the others could.

Brage clutched his arms across his chest and air hissed in through clenched teeth; his face turned upward and his hood fell back from his head. This eyes widened. "The arch," his voice jerked out. "The keystone…like a linchpin…cut off pursuit." Dread pulsed through him as Brage forced himself to stoop and grasp a broken War hammer. "Lift me up," he gritted. "Lift me…when I smite it, drop me…run…the ceiling will collapse."

"But you may be killed!" Gelan's words seemed muffled in the waves of fear. Now Brage's rage crested above the numbing dread. "Lift, by Adon, I command it!"

Gelan and Adaron hoisted the Dwarf, and he stood upon their shoulders as they braced him, his left hand upon the stone of the arch, the War hammer in his right. None of their eyes were upon the portal where stood the broken door. And it seemed as if one could hear massive steps stalking through the terror, ponderous feet of stone pacing toward the door.

And just as something dreadful loomed forth through the shadows: "Yah!" cried Brage, and swung the hammer with all the might of his powerful shoulders. Crack! The maul shattered through the keystone of the Gravenarch, and with a great rumble the vault above gave way.

Adaron, Gelan, and Brage tumbled backward, scrambling as stone fell around them. And Adaron grabbed up Leila around her waist, easily tucking her under one arm and ran, for surely only she would have glimpsed the shadow-wrapped Gargon and perhaps stood frozen. Still he carried her yet now, swung her about, to rest her over one shoulder as they dashed east for the door, just ahead of the ceiling crashing onto the floor behind them, filling the chamber with shattered stone. And as they raced through the portal and down a flight of steps, the roof gave way completely in one great roar, blocking all pursuit. And waves of numbing dread beat through the stone and whelmed at them, and though it felt as though their hearts would burst, Adaron finally set Leila to the ground, and down a narrow hall they struggled while behind them endless horror raveled.

Though she'd been put to her feet, she still wasn't sure what had just happened other than she had been tossed around like a sack of potatoes, but there was no time to fuss about that now. The four continued down the narrow hall, staggering in fear. Two more miles...it would not even take another hour. If they could pick up the pace they could do it in less than half of that, but the fear struck through them was debilitating beyond reckoning.

"Down," gasped Brage, "we've got to get down to the Mustering Chamber of the First Neath--the War Hall--for there is the drawbridge over the Great Deop. And we must pass over it to come to the Daun Gate. At least the lore says so."

"Drimm Brage, we crossed the Great Deep (the first was right too) by drawbridge," answered Lord Adaron, his voice thin with fear, "though we came not this way, but instead passed down long steps to come to an enormous chamber: your War Hall."

"We are here upon the Fifth Rise," gritted Brage, his face blenched, for the power of the Dread was now locked into their hammering hearts. "Six flights we must go down to reach the War Hall." Passing by a tunnel on the left, east they reeled, curving south, down another flight of steps. "Fourth rise." Brage raged as southward the narrow passage led. They passed one more tunnel to the left and kept on straight and down another staircase. "Third Rise," said Brage, and still the fear coursed through them and they knew the Gargon pursued by a different route. The tunnel they entered bore east and west, and to the east they fled, their legs seemingly nearly too cumbersome to control. Another flight of stairs; "Second Rise," came Brage's trembling voice. Brage and his companions were weary beyond measure and the hideous fear sapped at their will, yet onward they fled, for to stop meant certain destruction. North and south the passage now went, and rightward they turned, southward, and once more steep steps pitched downward. "First Rise," Brage counted, and beyond a footway leading west the tunnel curved east.

On they faltered in abject fear, the dread power lashing after, and then came once more to stone steps down; "Gate Level," Brage croaked at the bottom, and still they staggered on. Again the passage arched to the south, and, as before, they ignored another tunnel on the far left, for the ways they chose bore down, south, and east, and all other paths were rejected. One more long flight of steps they stumbled down, and lo! They came into a great dark hall. And they tottered outward into the camber, and still the terror whelmed their hearts, and they could but barely carry forth. "Ai, a Dragon Pillar," gasped Brage, pointing to a huge delved column carven to resenble a great Dragon coiling up an enormous fluted shaft. "This is the War Hall for the First Neath. To the east will be the bridge over the Great Deop." Leftward they reeled, their legs trembling with fear and barely under their control. Now along the lip of a deep abyss they staggered, to come to a great wooden span springing across the chasm. And behold! the bascule was down, the bridge unguarded!

"Great was the Gargon's pride," Gelan's voice grated, "for he ne'er thought we would reach this place, else he would have posted a Swarm here to greet us." They passed among barrels of pitch and oil and past rope-bound bundles of torches used by the maggotfolk to light their way through the black halls of Drimmen-deeve; and they came to the bridge at the edge of the Great Deep, a huge fissure that yawned blackly at their feet, jagging out of the darkness on their left, disappearing beyond the ebon shadows to their right, as much as a hundred feet wide, pinching down to fifty where stood the bridge. And sheer sides dropped into bottomless depths below. And as they stepped upon the span: "Hold!" cried Gelan. "If we fell this bridge, then pursuit will be cut off."

"How?" Brage's heard hammered, and every fiber of his being cried out, Run, fool, run! yet he knew Gelan was right. "How do we fell the bridge?"

"Fire!" Gelan's voice was hoarse. "With fire!"

No sooner were the words out of Gelan's mouth than Brage, spurred by hope. sprang to a barrel of pitch and rolled it out upon the span, smashing the wooden keg open with his axe.

Adaron, too, as well as Gelan, rolled great casks out to Brage, and these the Dwarf smashed open as well, the pitch flowing viscidly over the wooden span.

"A torch, Leila!" cried Gelan as he pressed back for another keg.

Leila ran to the wall then and cut down a torch with the aid of Bane. It was propped against the wall and then another was cut down, both torches brought back to Gelan. She held them outward to him in offering.

Desperately Gelan fished around in her winter garb for her flint and steel. Finding it quickly he struck the two and lit just one torch and took it from her, forgetting the other in his desperation. One would suit them fine though. And Gelan handed the burning brand to the Elf, saying, "You led us through, Lord Adaron; now cut off our pursuers."

The Elven Emissary took the torch and hefted it to throw it, but Horror stepped forth out of the shadows at the far end of the span and fixed them all with its unendurable gaze.

The Dread had come to slay them.

Brage fell to his knees, engulfed in unbearable terror, and he was not at all aware that the bellowing screams filling the air were rent from his own throat.

Thdd! Thdd! Onward came the gray, stone-like creature, scaled like a serpent, but walking upright upon two legs, a malevolent, evil parody of a huge reptilian Man.

Adaron stood paralyzed, transfixed in limitless horror, his eyes fastened inextricably upon a vision beyond seeing.

Thdd! Thdd! The ponderous Mandrak stalked forward, eight feet tall, taloned hands and feet, glittering rows of fangs in a lizard-snouted face.

Leila too screamed such a horrible, high-pitched sound of utter terror until her voice broke and nothing came out, her vocal chords nearly shredded by the sudden burst that they refused to work. Down upon her knees she fell, curling up into a ball, her hands above her head. The small one nearly blended in among the rocks that were scattered about the chamber.

Beads of sweat stood forth upon Gelan's brow, and his entire being quivered with an effort beyond all measure. And slowly he raised up the tip of his sword until it was pointed level at the Gargon, but then he froze, unable to do more for the Dread's gaze flicked upon him and the hideous power bereft him of his will.

Thdd! Thdd! Now the evil Gargon stalked past Leila, the once shrill-screaming Gypsy Woman beneath his contempt. And the stench of vipers reeked upon the air. And at the approach, Bane's blue light blazed wildly.

Under the level of his contempt, Leila was able to think at least partially clearly, and her one thought was to draw the attention away from the High King and Elven Emissary. She pushed herself up to all fours and then to her feet, remaining hunched over as she made her way slowly toward the Gargon, fear still overwhelming, but she had to draw the attention to her instead of the others. Forward she trudged until she came right beneath the Gargon, Bane and its blue fire plunging into the leg to the hilt and then ripping sideways with all her strength; it was enough to tear a substantial gash in the leg but would do little more than anger the Gargon. Falling backwards then, Bale in hand, she tried to scoot back and away from the Gargon, but could not move more than mere inches at a time.

Keen beyond reckoning, the elden blade rived through the reptilian scales and chopped deeply into the creatures massive shank, and a blinding blast of cobalt flame burst forth from the blade-jewel. With a brazen roar of pain, the Gargon began to turn, reaching for Leila with clawed limps, the massive talons set to rend the inching Woman to shreds.

Leila's vocal chords still did not work from the rending earlier. Once the Gargon's eyes turned upon her all motion stopped and she soon lost consciousness as her body's only defense to stop her heart from exploding within her chest.

Yet the Gargon had only been three feet from Gelan when Leila had struck, and now the Dread's eyes had left Gelan, and the Man plunged Jarriel's sword straight and deep into the Gargon's gut as he had begun to turn--Shkk!--the blade shattering at the hilt as the hideous creature bellowed again and glared directly into Gelan's eyes, blasting him with a dread so deep that it would burst a Man's heart. And Gelan was hurled back by the horrendous power.

But at that moment came a tumbling glitter as Brage's axe flashed end over end though the air to stride the creature full in the forehead--Chnk!--and the roaring monster staggered hindward upon the span.

Leila's vocal chords still did not work from the rending earlier. Once the Gargon's eyes turned upon her all motion stopped and she soon lost consciousness as her body's only defense to stop her heart from exploding within her chest.

And Adaron threw the torch upon the pitch-drenched wood, and with a great Phoom! flames exploded upward, and he snatched the unconscious Leila forth from the bridge, holding her across his chest, arms underneath her, as the fire blasted outward.

And Brage dragged stunned Gelan away from the whooshing blaze, for the Man had been whelmed by the Gargon's dreadful burst of power.

And upon the bridge the Gargon bellowed brazen roars, engulfed in flame, an ax cloven deep in his skull, a shivered sword plunged through his gut, a gash on his leg. In the War Hall behind him, there came the sounds of running feet as Rucks and Hloks poured out of corridors and into the great chamber. They ran among the fourfold rows of Dragon Pillars to come to the far edge of the bottomless Great Deep, crying "Glar! Glar!" (Fire! Fire!) And then great waves of unbearable dread blasted outward, and Spaunen fell groveling upon the floor of the War Hall shrieking in terror while Adaron and Brage gasped for air and dropped to their knees, transfixed like stone statues. And the dreadful casts of racking horror seemed to course through them forever. But then the Gargon collapsed and lay in the whirling flames of the burning span, and all of a sudden harrowing dread was gone.

"Quickly," gasped Adaron, recovering first, "we must bear Gelan King and Leila beyond arrow flight." And so, weak with passing fear, Adaron carried Leila while Brage dragged the stunned Man up a flight of steps and to the outbound passage. Leila was set down, and while Adaron worked to revive Gelan, for he had been hit the hardest, Brage stood guard, holding Adaron's Bale, the red-jeweled blade seeming awkward in the Dwarf's gnarled hand--a hand better suited to wield an ax.

Leila slowly came to, blinking a few times as she gasped in her first substantial breath of air since the Gargon first appeared. She sat up quickly, remaining steady while her senses came to and the dizziness faded. Looking up to Brage then. "Is Gelan all right?" rubbing her forehead as she pushed herself to her feet, drawing Bane from her belt once more, the runes leaping with blue fire.

But Brage was in awe. "Ai, look at the vastness of the Mustering Chamber, Leila." Flames within the chamber roared upward. "It must be a mile to the far end and half that wide." He stood before her and if she looked past him she'd be able to see Rucks and Hloks running hither and thither, and by the light of the burning bridge, rows of Dragon Pillars could be seen marching off into the distance past great fissures in the floor, and it was obvious that
Brage gauged true.

It was here that Gelan regained consciousness, yet he was weak, shaken, his face pale, drawn, and deep within his eyes lurked a haunted look, for he had been whelmed by a Gargon's fearblast, a blast that would have destroyed Gelan; but he had been saved in the nick of time by Brage's well-thrown ax. Even so, Gelan nearly had been slain, and he could not rise. And thus, they waited on the stone landing above the broad steps leading down toward the shelf of the abyss while strength and will slowly ebbed back into the Dread-hammered King. And long they watched the flames until the burning span collapsed, plummeting into the great Deep, carrying the charred corpse of the slain Gargon down into the bottomless depths. And when the drawbridge plunged, the four Deevewalkers stood and made their way eastward, Gelan on faltering feet, supported by sturdy Brage. Along a corridor they went two furlongs, up a gentle slope, up from the First Neath to the Gate Level. Now they came to the East Hall and crossed its wide floor to pass beyond the broken portals of the Dawn-Gate and out from under the mountain, out into the open at last. Before them in the Shadowlight of the Everdark stood the sloping valley called the Pitch leading down out of the Quadran. And out upon this cambered vale the four went, heading east, soon to bear south, for distant Galion Forest, to bring the Elves there word of the Horde in Drimmen-deeve and to tell them the remarkable news of the Gargon's death. It had taken all four to slay the Horror, and it was by mere happenstance that they had succeeded. Yet among these four heroes there was one who had struck the first spark, for as Gelan King said, his voice strained, halting--for the impact of the Gargon was still upon him-- "When . . . when we stood frozen . . . lost beyond all hope, Leila, yours was the blow that released us . . . yours was the strike that told."

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