Resurgence: The Rise of Resurgence Book 1 (40 page)

BOOK: Resurgence: The Rise of Resurgence Book 1
3.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“It’s not a tale that us Dwarves are all that proud of telling Naugha,” Tibble responded. Somewhere through the day Tibble had stopped calling Wayne “warrior” and started using his name. Wayne hoped this was a sign that his relationship with the Dwarves was improving.

“Not far from this mine we discovered an entrance to the mountain that would send any Dwarf’s eyes to watering. The sight was beautiful, I tell ya,” Tibble continued looking out toward another area of the mountain range.

“These pieces you have collected; you can make some fine items with that ore. It won’t be anything great, but it will hold up against a sword and provide ya with some protection. But what we found in that other mine would make a suit of armor any Dwarf would be proud to call his own. We found Fermium.”

Tibble could tell that Wayne had no idea what he was talking about, so he continued. “In the hierarchy of ores, you can’t find none better than Mithral. Some ores can be shaped, some can be imbued, and some just want to suck up magic. That’s Mithral. At the other end of your spectrum is Low Quality Iron. You found some High Quality Iron here today, and that can make you some decent steel. But it can’t take magic, it’s like the steel is allergic to the stuff.

“Fermium ain’t quite like Mithral, it won’t give you the same type of magic integration, but it’s harder and lighter than steel. And it will hold a small amount of magic imbued into the crafting. It’s one of those highly sought after ores, since it costs far less than Mithral but can still give great protection. And we found us a mother lode. But unfortunately so did someone else.”

Tibble and the rest of the Dwarves went silent then, as you can see they were reliving an event that weighed heavy on their hearts. “We lost a good number of Dwarves that day, and I’m ashamed to say we ran from those beasts. But we couldn’t win, and I made the call to retreat. We arrived here, at this mine, just days ago. We lost all of our provisions, and most of our belongings. What you see here is all that is left. We can’t get that mine back, not yet. But we will, this I promise you!”

Wayne started getting angry as he thought about what happened to his new friends. “What attacked you?”

“Denizens of the mountains. We had posted the majority of our forces outside of the mine’s entrance to watch for bandits coming from that way. We are Dwarves, so of course we scouted out the interior of the cave. But we didn’t see anything to threaten us. Turns out we didn’t go far enough down and the sound of our picks must have woken the creatures in the darkness. I only had two sentries watching from that way, and those boys only had enough time to sound an alarm before they was cut down. We haven’t even had the opportunity to give them boys a proper sending off.”

“How do you mean?”

“We need to do right by all them boys that was lost. They need to be celebrated. Their stories told and their deeds glorified. Without that, the Dwarven Gods won’t know of their coming, and they won’t find rest.”

Wayne remembered from his days of watching movies and other games he had played that a Dwarven sendoff usually meant a feast and lots of booze. This was something the Dwarves here were lacking in abundance. But something Wayne could remedy quickly.

It would take an hour to ride back to Port Town, collect food and drink, and another hour to get back to the mine. Wayne asked if Tibble and his Dwarves would still be there in a few hour’s time, and Tibble replied that they would. Apparently, they were sleeping just inside the mountain entrance. Wayne decided to skip getting shelter for the Dwarves as they may take that as an insult since any dwarf would be happy to rest on the rock floor of the mountain.

With that, Wayne left the mine and returned to Port Town to procure bottles of Elven Brandy and food of the highest quality. It would weigh him down significantly, but Wayne could carry more when he was on his horse. It cost him several gold for all the food and drink, but Wayne hoped this initial investment would pay off in the long run. More importantly, Wayne was a Warrior and he wanted those brave Dwarves to get the sendoff they deserved.

When Wayne arrived, Tibble was waiting for him. “Heard your horse, and recognized her gait. Didn’t really know if we would be seeing you again.”

“That was never in question brave Dwarf. Now if you wouldn’t mind, could you call the rest of your clan and set up a table. I have something I would like to say.”

Tibble nodded once and gathered the rest of the clan, around twenty Dwarves. They approached the table as Wayne placed his war hammer in his hand, with the head resting against the ground. Wayne looked out at the gathering of Dwarves and began his speech. As far as public speaking went, Wayne wasn’t like Jason who could twist words into poetry and make eyes water. Nor did he have the same skill as Alex to make things clear and concise in times of stress. And thankfully, he wasn’t like Dan, whose talent in public speaking was directly linked to how fast he could insert his foot into his own mouth. But Wayne was a Warrior, and this he could do.

“I arrived here on this day looking to help only myself. I had a need to fulfill and a goal to attain. I didn’t expect to meet brave warriors on this day, but I did. And I didn’t expect to hear of your loss and heart ache, but I did,” Wayne began while looking out at all the Dwarves assembled around him. “I am no great speech maker. That is a skill for men and women who do not lead with their hammer first and ask questions later. I am a Warrior. And the one thing I do understand is the Warrior way.”

At that moment Wayne produced all of the food and drink and placed them on the table. The Dwarves looked at the feast before them and Tibble began to address Wayne. But before he could, Wayne interrupted. “I will hear nothing of this my friend. I do this not for you. I do this for the Warriors whose souls fly to their rest and the voices that will herald their arrival. Tonight we celebrate their deeds. And when my days on this plain are done, I will hope someone is there to speak of my efforts.”

To a man, the Dwarves lowered their heads in what looked like a silent prayer. Tibble then looked up and met Wayne’s eyes. And Wayne saw the fire in them that every Warrior knows. With a simple head nod, Tibble said, “It will be done.”

* * *

As the celebration was in full swing, Wayne sat back and listened to all the stories being told of the young Dwarves who lost their lives so recently. After each story the Dwarves would yell out an emphatic “Huzzah!” and move on to the next story. It was a wake like none other. And the Dwarves sure could put down the booze.

Half way through the party, or there a bout, Tibble asked if he could see the mighty war hammer that Wayne carried with him where ever he went. Wayne held out the item so Tibble could inspect it.

“This is a well done piece of work Naugha. Not quite Dwarven standards, but you know a Dwarf would never toil with such dark magics. It isn’t in our nature. Be aware that there is a darkness within this weapon.”

“Yeah, I figured that out when I pried it out of the dead hands of a dark being!” Wayne said rather loudly. Wayne had been trying to match the Dwarves drink for drink, and was more than a little inebriated.

“Tell us the story Naugha!” one of the other Dwarves at the table yelled out.

Wayne was hesitant at first, but the liquid courage in his system didn’t let that last long. Sitting amongst the Dwarves, while resting the mighty war hammer between his feet, head on the ground and handle in his hands, Wayne told of the fight against the undead at the castle and the defeat of the Undead Regent.

“Huzzah! Huzzah!” was the response from the Dwarves as Wayne finished the tale. “Naugha the Undead slayer! Huzzah!”

Tibble had a grand smile on his face, also likely the result of the amount of Brandy he had put down. “Your friends sound like fearsome adventurers, and together I imagine you are a formidable team.”

Wayne’s inebriated state almost vanished completely. This was the moment. All of his efforts, from helping to mine the ore to setting up the feast, was in the hopes of getting a quest to liberate the mine the Dwarves had fled. “Each is as powerful, if not more so, than I. I would put them up against any foe brave Dwarf.”

“Bah! Stop with the “brave Dwarf” nonsense. You are amongst friends here Naugha, you should be calling us by name,” Tibble responded.

“Huzzah!”

“Thank you Tibble. And as I said, my friends when alone are fearsome, but together we are a force on this land that is rivaled by none. And there is nothing we like more than a chance to prove it.”

Tibble sat next to Wayne, looking him in the eyes, and thinking long and hard. “You’ve already done so much for this clan Naugha. Ya helped us to replenish our funds with the ore you’ve retrieved. Ya spoke words of praise to the men around you. And ya made it possible to send me brothers to their rest with the reverence they deserved. I be hesitant to ask ya fer more lad.”

“Tibble, my friend,” Wayne said as he lifted his large hammer and rested it on his shoulders, then looked directly into Tibble’s eyes with what Dan referred to as The Eye of Naugha, “please, ask away.”

“Ha! Ya wants to go hunt ‘em down already, don’t ya?”

“Just been waiting for you to ask Tibble. Just been waiting for you to ask.”

With an even grander twinkle in his eye, Tibble asked Wayne, “How long ya think yer friends need to get here?”

* * *

September 16th, 2043

After hearing Wayne’s story, we were definitely all in. After grouping up the next day, we rode out to the mine where Wayne had met the Dwarves. We could see them from a short distance and it looked like they all had stopped working to come out and greet our group.

Wayne stepped down from his horse and approached an older Dwarf I was guessing was Tibble. The two clasped forearms together, followed by Wayne turning toward us and saying, “My good friend Tibble, these are my friends. They have heard the tale of what happened to your clan and have agreed to right the wrongs that took place. We are all at your service.”

“Any friend of Naugha is a friend of the East Range Mountain Dwarf Clan, I tell ya. It is too much that ya’ll are willing to do, but we won’t turn down the offer of four brave adventurers to assist us in our time of need. And a fearsome lot you definitely look. With Naugha leading the way, I don’t see how those beasts…”

Tibble suddenly stopped speaking and looked past Naugha and further into the woods. I expected Dan to be doing something that would have drawn Tibble’s attention, but when I looked over at Dan he was calmly sitting upon his horse. When I looked closer, I saw Tibble was staring at Jason.

“Naugha…Naugha, you told me you rode with a healer, but ya didn’t say ya had a great Cleric in your midst.” By this point all of the other Dwarves were staring at Jason as well. It was putting Jason ill at ease. But before any of us could comment, Tibble approached Jason with his hands clasped before him and his eyes down cast.

“That be the work of Grumblewat, in’it?”

Realization dawned on me. Of course the Dwarves would revere the works of one of their greatest Blacksmiths. And the Shoulders Jason was wearing were from not one of their greatest, but arguably The Greatest Dwarven Blacksmith. Jason recognized this immediately as well, and nodded his head sagely to Tibble. “When we have time my new friend, I will be honored to have you, and any of your clan, inspect my windfall.”

“Many thanks. I am honored.” Tibble turned back to Wayne and said, “It ain’t just any healer that can wear something like this Naugha, the wearer must be a great Cleric.”

“BOOM!” said Dan. “I told you Alli, I straight told you! All my hard work at the Tavern telling everyone how awesome you are as a Cleric has paid off. Even the Dwarves know you are the shit! The Great Cleric Allister! You can totally thank me later!”

Tibble looked very confused, which means he could easily be any other person in my group when it came to understanding Dan, to include me. I wanted to get in front of any more discussions and approached Tibble myself.

“We have heard of what happened brave Dwarf, and we would like to help liberate the mine where you and your kinsmen were attacked. Please lead the way and we will see what challenges we face.”

“Bah! You too with the ‘brave Dwarf’ nonsense! Call me Tibble.”

“Many thanks Tibble, and please call me Alex. I know you are already well acquainted with our companion Naugha, and the stories of our adventures. So unless you want to hear that one speak more nonsense,” pointing a finger Dan’s way, “I would like to hear about this mine in more detail.”

Dan crossed his arms over his chest and pouted after my comment. I didn’t know if he was going to get off his horse and join us, but I did hear him say as Jason was passing, “I totally stoked your rep Allister, I expect to be thanked handsomely.”

“Only thing that would be handsome about you Dan!” Jason said while walking by and laughing. Dan just started pouting more.

* * *

Tibble rehashed the story a second time for my group so we knew exactly what we were going up against. According to Tibble, us adventurers would face Orckin, a bastard off shoot to the surface Orcs that fled to the mountains centuries ago. These beasts dwelled deep under the earth and tended to war primarily with the darker races that rarely saw the light of day. As Tibble explained to Wayne, it was the noise created by the Dwarves that likely led to the Orckin coming out of the ground.

After Tibble had finished going over the story, we sat around the fire and talked through a strategy for the next day. Wayne was fired up after hearing Tibble tell his story for the second time and was ready to rush in with his hammer swinging. It took Jason, me, and even Dan, to be the voices of reason with him. He finally came around after a time and conceded that scouting out the cave was in everyone’s best interest.

I planned to make my way throughout the cave complex in my Blacksuit. The way Tibble told the story, I was a bit worried that these mobs may even be above our levels. But there was no way we would back down from this fight. Mostly because we knew Wayne would likely try to do it with or without us.

Other books

Cleopatra and Antony by Diana Preston
Snowed In by Sarah Title
Solsbury Hill A Novel by Susan M. Wyler
Hunting Season by P. T. Deutermann
Tale of Elske by Jan Vermeer