The Sundered Arms

MORADIN’S GAZE

Lidda shifted around slowly and made the all-clear sign. Even so, Tordek gestured for the others to wait as he crawled up to the halfling's vantage with as much stealth as a dwarf in scale armor could muster. That was not much.

"How many?" he whispered.

"Twenty-eight goblins and two giants," she said. "No sign of Hargrimm or his lieutenants."

Tordek considered that fact. "No doubt he remains in the forge, but judging from what that quasit said in the vault, I wager the others are looking for us down below with as many goblins as Hargrimm would spare."

Together they looked down at the chasm bridge. On this side, it led into a grand arch that housed chambers on the northern half of Andaron's Delve. On the other was a huge gate that defended a wide plaza filled with the smashed remnants of half a dozen statues and most of a sculpture melding a peculiar natural rock formation with chiseled spires and turrets to form a fantastic castle. In other dwarven strongholds, Tordek had seen similarly capricious sculptures in which children played at battles with tiny stone and pewter warriors. The remembrance made him briefly melancholy for all the orphans created by the fall of Andaron's delve and all the blameless souls who dwelt within its caverns.

"What are those?" asked Lidda. "More air vents?"

Tordek followed her gaze up to the massive copper tubes slanting out of the wall above the plaza. Each was wider than the height of two dwarves and perfectly round. All of them terminated in louvers connected to cables running down through green brass rings. At one time they must have run all the way to a brass plaque bolted into the wall near the grand door, yet someone had cut the chains at a point some thirty feet above the floor.

"No," said Tordek. "Those are something else entirely. Even dwarf children need the kiss of the sun to grow hale and strong, so they built the eyes of Moradin to shine down upon them as they played in the afternoon."

"Magic?" asked Lidda.

"No, not a dram of it," said Tordek, allowing a faint smile to cross his lips. "It's an ancient dwarven secret."

"Oh?" said Lidda. "How does it work?"

"By not telling halflings," he said.

"Very funny."

"Seriously," said Devis, "how does it work?" The half-elf had slipped up without making a sound, but the fact that he had not waited for Tordek's signal annoyed the dwarf.

"Ask me again when our lives are in less imminent peril."

"Fine," sighed Devis. A second later, he blurted, "Light vents?"

"Aye. That's a fair name for them. No doubt the centuries have sealed them shut like the sandy eyes of a dreamer too long aslumber."

"Hey," said the bard. "You keep that up, and I'll report you to the guild."

Tordek raised an inquiring eyebrow, unsure of what the bard was implying.

"That was downright lyrical, what you said," Devis smiled. "You're a poet!"

Tordek jutted his chin and squinted at the half-elf. "You take that back!"

"There are many great dwarf bards."

"Well, I am not one of them," insisted Tordek, "and you would do well to remember it."

"All right, forget I said anything."

"That will be a feat worthy of Clangeddin Silverbeard, the way you keep nattering on."

To look at anything other than Devis, Tordek glanced at the uppermost bridge soaring more than sixty feet above them, both anxious for and dreading the moment when they crossed back over and faced Hargrimm in the forge. The spirit of Andaron did not seem deceitful, but one could never be sure with the dead. Even if what he proposed were true, it was still a speculation that would ensure their deaths if proved false. There was no other way that Tordek knew to eliminate the danger posed by the Arms of Andaron.

"Let's go," he said, rising to follow Lidda's careful descent to the bridge. They waited until Vadania and Gulo joined them before hastening across. Tordek braced his shoulder against the heavy gate and pushed. To his pleasant surprise, he felt the great mass move more easily than he expected. Andaron's gauntlets lent him far more than protection; they also imbued him with magical strength.

Beyond the gate they saw that dozens of benches surrounded the plaza. Most were smashed to ugly fragments scattered at the posts that once formed their legs. Tordek knew that long ago, dwarf mothers sat there and watched their children at play. Vadania noticed that his gaze lingered on the scene. She touched his arm as Lidda and Devis loped toward the big door.

"You are troubled," she said.

Tordek made a noncommittal grunt and headed toward the door.

"You fear that by heeding Andaron's suggestion you might be delivering to Hargrimm the very thing he needs to complete his summoning."

"The thought occurred to me," said Tordek. He brushed his armored fingers over the handle of Andaron's hammer. A faint, electric tingle stroked his fingers in return, and he withdrew his hand from the enchanted weapon. "Maybe the half-elf's right. We should take this damned thing and flee, hiding it where that demon will never find it."

"Yet he found the others," said Vadania, "all of them. Hargrimm had centuries to search, and he will have centuries more if no one puts an end to him."

Tordek grunted an affirmative.

"You must have faith," she told him.

"That I have," he replied. "The Soul-Forger surely blesses our quest."

"I mean in yourself," she said, "and in your friends."

He stopped walking and turned to her. "You know I trust you, lass, and Lidda, too, for all her jests. The bard, well, he has his uses, I suppose."

"He could have left us if he truly wished it," she said. "If all he desired was a tale, he has it by now. Lidda has her adventure and her treasure. I know that the forges will stop spewing out their infernal poisons as soon as Hargrimm finishes repairing the shattered weapons. Yet all of us remain, and there's only one reason for that. One thing holds us together in this quest, and that is you."

She looked down at him with such a confident and tender expression that he turned away rather than face her words. He cleared his throat a few times without speaking.

"My thanks," he said at last. He turned back and looked her in the eye. "Andaron could have used a counselor like you."

They joined Lidda and Devis at the far wall, where they had given up on the main door and now listened at one of the lesser portals.

"Barred," said Lidda quietly. "They probably left someone on the other side after all. Maybe I can pick one of these others."

Gulo growled at the same moment that Vadania turned her head to listen. Above the bridge they had just crossed, a large, dark figure glided down to stand at the open gate. Even in the faint light from the tip of his long spear, there was no mistaking the massive shoulders and horned brow of Zagreb. His deep chuckle rumbled all the way across the plaza as he lifted one hand to beckon his prey to him.

"Damn," spat Tordek. "If he is showing himself, there must be reinforcements coming. Keep working on that door, Lidda. You, bard, stay with her. Vadania, you and Gulo come with me. Spread out as we get close."

He shrugged his shield down onto his arm and gripped it tight, ready to crouch behind it at the first sign that the half-dragon intended to belch flame at him again. With his war axe raised in guard, he walked slowly toward the center of the plaza. To either side, Gulo and Vadania moved to flank the monster.

Zagreb ignored them both. He twirled his spear and grinned as he locked gazes with Tordek.

"You ran from me last time," he said. "This time you have nowhere to go."

A premonition tickled his neck, and Tordek whirled around to see Lidda and Devis. The halfling worked intently on the lock while the half-elf plucked out a tune on his lute, no doubt working some spell.

Neither of them saw the pale limbs of Sandrine climbing down toward them along the wall above.

The plaza trembled as Zagreb charged toward Tordek.

The dwarf shouted a warning even as he turned to defend himself. The half-dragon's spear smashed his shield aside and numbed his arm. Tordek slashed wildly and missed his foe completely. The sharp edge of his axe drew a line of sparks on the flinty plaza surface.

"Gulo!" cried Vadania.

From the corner of his eye, Tordek saw the faint glimmering that rained upon the druid after she cast some of her spells. She pointed at the half-dragon. "Kill!"

The dire wolverine lunged low, but Zagreb leaped up and took to the air. The first powerful slap of his wings felt like a blow on Tordek's face, and the sound rang in his ears as the half-dragon rose high above them.

"Here, you abomination!" Vadania whirled her sling and let fly. The missile shot past Zagreb's face, but it was enough to get his attention. He grinned as he swooped toward Vadania, his jaws opening like an infernal stove.

"Here's your foe!" shouted Tordek. "Fight me!"

It was too late. The dragon's flame poured out, engulfing Vadania as Zagreb swept past her. Fire lingered on the stones as he went by even as the flames on Vadania shook and vanished.

The druid rose from her protective crouch, already swinging her sling for another shot. There was not so much as a smudge on her silver hair.

Tordek smiled grimly as he realized that she must have anticipated another meeting with the half-dragon and prepared herself a ward against fire. Unfortunately, unless she had another spell to draw him into close battle, Zagreb could harass them until Sandrine dealt with the others and the goblin horde arrived.

Tordek felt a throb of heat against his leg. Looking down, he saw the head of Andaron's hammer pulsing with an eager, red aura. While it had not harmed his flesh, the blow it struck when Hargrimm hurled it at him was mighty indeed. He did not like the prospect of employing the weapon again.

"Let her go!" shouted Devis.

Tordek spared a glance at the door and saw Sandrine climbing up the wall. In one slender arm she cradled Lidda. The halfling's head lolled as her arms clung weakly to her kidnapper. Her eyes were open, so Tordek knew she was somehow charmed.

"Look out, Tordek!" Vadania cried.

He threw himself down, rolling out of the way as Zagreb swept past again. This time the half-dragon's long spear came nowhere near Tordek. Gulo roared as he charged futilely toward where the half-dragon had just been. Before the wolverine could reach the spot, the monster was safely out of reach.

Tordek kept an eye on Zagreb as he ran back toward the wall. Devis drank a potion to give himself an arachnid's clinging touch. He leaped onto the wall and ran after the retreating Sandrine, longsword in hand.

"Get her!" calledTordek, feeling useless as he watched the bard give chase.

Despite his natural grace, Devis loped awkwardly on two legs and a hand, while Sandrine moved away as nimbly as a spider. They darted up and down the wall, the vampire easily running around the half-elf's clumsy rushes.

At last, Sandrine scurried away from him and perched against the wall, sitting on her heels which clung to the stone. There she paused and cradled Lidda like a child, smoothing her hair before tasting the skin of her neck with a long, dark tongue. She bared her fangs and looked down at Tordek.

"Give us the hammer."

Tordek hesitated. At a roar from Gulo, he glanced back to glimpse Vadania running from Zagreb as the beast fell toward her with his long spear braced to impale the druid. She twisted away at the last instant, but the wicked tip of the weapon caught her on the hip and spun her to the ground. Gulo charged after him, stopping only to place his big body over Vadania's writhing form. She did not cry out, but her agony was plain to see.

"Give it to us!" hissed Sandrine. To emphasize her point, she bit hard on Lidda's throat. The halfling did not scream but gasped a sigh as much of unexpected pleasure as pain.

Tordek dropped his axe and took the hammer into his hand. The thrill of its war-fervor once more ran up his arm and into his heart, where its pulsing beat spoke urgently.

"I'll kill you," he murmured in an unfamiliar voice. He raised his arm to hurl the weapon, heedless of Lidda's peril.

"Don't!" shouted Devis. He threw himself from the wall, but not toward Sandrine. Instead he leaped at the chains dangling from the huge pipes on the ceiling. He caught one as he fell, and his weight pulled open the louvers with a tooth-thrilling shriek. Dust poured down along with glittering glass fragments, and a beam of pure, white light shot down to fall upon the plaza floor.

"Spite!" screamed Sandrine, recoiling from the light.

Devis swung his legs and aimed for the next chain. He grabbed it and opened another of what he had named "light vents," sending a second brilliant sunbeam into the hall.

Sandrine dropped Lidda and scrambled away on all fours.

Tordek rushed forward, dropping his weapon and shield as he threw out his arms to catch her. He was an instant too slow, but he dived forward and put his body beneath her before she struck. Even her miniscule weight felt like a boulder falling from such a height, but he spared her unprotected skull from a rap on the unyielding floor. Lidda moaned and shook her head dazedly.

Above them, Devis whooped and swung from chain to chain, calling forth another shaft of sunlight with every tug. The fifth beam fell directly on Sandrine. Flame burst over her in a brief corona. She shrieked and threw herself to the floor to escape it. Smoking, she rose to her feet and fled toward the bridge. The monstrous wolverine barred her way, so she turned instead to plunge silently over the precipice and away.

Vadania shouted another warning, and Tordek saw Zagreb swooping down toward the hammer he had left behind. In an instant, the monster would have it in his grasp.

Tordek roared and reached for the hammer. "You have never held it. It is mine!"

At Tordek's call, the hammer flew out from under the half-dragon's grasp and into Tordek's outstretched hand. Triumph swelled in his chest, his hungry eyes searched for a foe to murder. High above the plaza, Zagreb soared back up to wheel amid the dusty shafts of white light.

Tordek calculated the dragon-ogre's course with a cruel leer upon his lips. As his foe approached the right spot, he threw every ounce of his body into hurling Andaron's hammer. The weapon left his gauntleted hand with a hellish shriek. Its red corona blurred and turned violet, then indigo as it flew straight at its target. The weapon smashed the long spear clutched in Zagreb's claws. That terrific impact sent the half-dragon tumbling in mid-air before the hammer arced around and raced back to its master's hand.

Zagreb fell like a meteor, the cruel hands steaming and bruised to blackness. No sooner had he hit the ground than a long ton of furious wolverine smothered him. Gulo raked and bit, then tore at the foe again as he trumpeted his warrior's glee. Beneath him, already wounded by the fall, Zagreb drew his legs up to protect his belly and covered his face with his massive arms. Within seconds his limbs sagged with ribbons of torn flesh. Still, he kicked back with such hell-borne might that Gulo lurched away, briefly stunned.

Vadania ran to aid her gigantic friend as the maimed Zagreb staggered to his feet, a trail of dark blood steaming in his wake. Tordek hastened to join them in dragging their wounded foe to his death, but the half-dragon was too close to his escape. Like his sinister ally before him, he threw himself off the edge of the plaza, into the yawning chasm.

They all heard the snap of leathery wings as the half-dragon took to the air once more, this time far below them.

"Hurry!" Devis called from the wall. He climbed down to join Lidda at the door she had opened. Even as she finished beguiling the tumblers, she slumped against the bard, exhausted from her ordeal. Devis held her up, and together they waited impatiently for the others to catch up. When Tordek arrived, Devis nodded toward the hammer. It was radiating enough light to rival the natural sunlight that fell from the mirrored pipes above.

"Impressive," said the bard.

"Magnificent," agreed Tordek, admiring the hammer in his grip. "A weapon worthy of the greatest heroes."

"I thought you didn't like that word," said Lidda. She was obviously trying to put on a brave face, but her head wobbled slightly, and her voice was wan. Her eyes were sunken, and the skin of her face was almost translucently pale.

Tordek looked at her with an expression of deep vexation tempered by concern. Rather than forgo his ire, he frowned at her and turned away.

"Don't forget your axe," said the bard.

Momentarily confused, Tordek looked back at the trusty blade he had carried for so many years, abandoned on the plaza behind him. For an instant, he felt a vague regret, as though he had performed some heinous transgression on a long-forgotten vow. The pang of guilt quickly evaporated in a hot gush of pride for his new weapon, the hammer of Andaron. Tordek shrugged. He was no longer interested in carrying the inferior war axe.

He realized everyone was staring at him.

"You aren't thinking of keeping it, are you?" asked Lidda. "You're the one who made us swear."

"We're here to destroy it," said Devis, "aren't we?"

Tordek looked to the elf for support, but Vadania just looked back at him, her eyes full of trust.

Tordek stomped back to retrieve his old axe, resenting it more and more with every step. By the time he returned, the others were trying hard not to look at him. The effect was even worse than if they had stared at him.

"Shut up," he said to no one in particular, but no one had said a word.