Legend of the Runeforger: A Dwarven Progression Fantasy

Cathez orders me to equip myself, so I rush into my room and throw on my armor as fast as I can. I return to the corridor with Heartseeker clutched at my side and see that the other dwarves he’s woken up are assembling too, squinting in the brightness of Jaemes’ lantern.

“Stand to attention!” Cathez orders. “Mathek has been found dead in a storeroom, drained of blood.” Those he hasn’t told yet gasp in shock. “Runethane Yurok has ordered those not currently at the Shaft or reinforcing those who are, to gather in his hall. There, the full facts will be laid out, and the Runethane will decide how to proceed.”

We follow him through the halls. The dwarves around me are muttering in low voices:

“Drained of blood?” one whispers.

“An incursion,” says a panicked sounding ninth degree. “The darkness has got into the fort somehow.”

“No! The darkness isn’t interested in blood, just light and warmth.”

“Some creature has skulked in,” another dwarf whispers. “That’s what it must be. There are things that drink blood in the upper levels.”

“Nothing that could have made it all the way down here.”

“How would you know? Have you ever been to the upper levels? Hey, Zathar, is what I’ve heard true? Are there really beasts that drink blood up there?”

“Yes, some kinds of bats.”

“Bats? Those things that can fly?”

“Yes.”

“No such thing!” the panicky ninth degree hisses. “It’s the deep dark, has to be!”

“Silence!” Cathez snaps. “No rumors. No speculation. Once the facts are laid out clearly to him, the Runethane will make a decision. There is no need for any discussion. Do not worry yourselves needlessly.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re a second degree. Nothing’s going to harm you!”

“Silence!”

Everyone shuts up. Jaemes’ lantern swings back and forth as he walks alongside us, casting weird shadows that unnerve me. Could the deep darkness be lurking in one of them? Has some tendril of it snaked its way up to eliminate us one by one? Or is the other dwarf’s suggestion true: is there some terrible creature loose down here? An image of some multi-limbed, pure black, scentless and soundless worm-beast appears in my mind’s eye and I shudder.

Poor Mathek—as far as I know, every death at the fort in its long, long history has occurred either at the Shaft or up in the mushroom basket. For something to make its way into the confines of the fort is unthinkable.

Cathez calls a halt where our corridor intersects with another. Dwarves in full plate of at least fifth degree standard hurry along it past us, illuminated in bright white from their intricately light-runed maces and hammers. Reinforcements for the Shaft, Nthazes among them, though he doesn’t notice me.

“Come on,” Cathez says, and we restart our quick march.

A few minutes later we arrive in front of the hall of Runethane Yurok. Two great doors are set into the end of the corridor, each three times as tall as a dwarf. They are plated with white platinum of the purest carat, which has no design upon it but is as smooth as a mirror. The light from Jaemes’ lantern reflects off it brightly, as does the light from the maces of the two guards standing to attention just in front of it.

“We are here, chamberlain,” Cathez says to the one in more ornate armor. “Seventy runeknights exact and eleven initiates, as well as myself. Commander Hraroth is leading forty-three senior runeknights who weren’t on duty to the Shaft. Ten more are guarding the upward road. And an escort of six others are bringing up the body.”

“I shall convey this to the Runethane,” answers the chamberlain. “Please wait.”

He opens the doors just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the pitch blackness within, then he vanishes into the hall and shuts them behind him with a loud click. We wait in silence. The dwarves around me, from what I can see from their eyes past their vision slits, look scared and nervous.

So am I. Besides the lurking sense of dread, the prospect of seeing the corpse of Mathek, who though not my best friend was nonetheless friendly company with whom I shared plenty of drinks, makes me feel queasy. Especially considering the gruesome state he must be in.

Drained of blood... There cannot be many worse ways to die than that.

Some of the dwarves with better runic ears than me turn around. My heart jumps in my chest and I look back with them. I hear quiet footsteps, and a few minutes later a new set of shadows appears in the corridor—of six dwarves bearing a stretcher, upon it a body covered by a thin sheet. Without any command from Cathez, our formation parts to let them through.

Below the sheet there is the impression of something yellow and shriveled. I swallow hard. The stretcher bearers stop at the front of the door. Some of the dwarves around me are craning their heads to get a better look, but I am not. Mathek’s body repels me like no other ever has. I fear that if I look at it for too long, I will imagine myself gruesomely mutilated and become paralyzed with terror.

A few minutes later the doors swing open. I was wrong about them not being runed—tiny ones flash in the platinum, far too dense and small to read. They must be for defense against the deep darkness. If it is ever to swamp the fort, here would be where we make our last stand.

We march through, and are now in the hall of Runethane Yurok. Curling black smoke pervades it, all but obscuring the light from Jaemes’ lantern, though the bright light pouring from the chamberlain's mace is relatively unaffected. Through the smoke I see that the hall is about twice the size the Association of Steel’s guildhall was, enough to fit all two hundred dwarves of the fort several times over. Unlike a guildhall though, it is bare of furniture. There are no long tables for food, no chairs nor benches, just plain stone tiles. There is no hearth either, and the air feels very cold even through my armor and its padding.

At the front is a raised section, upon which I see the outline of a throne. Leaned against it is a gigantic mace that looks far too heavy for even a rune-strengthened dwarf to lift. Then the smoke shifts and it is obscured, and there is too much interference in here for me to make out the details of its form by hearing.

“Form ranks by degree,” Cathez orders.

We form seven rows, with the initiates at the back, then the tenth degrees, ninth, up until fourth. Anyone above that must be at the Shaft, and most of the fourth and fifth degrees must be too because there are very few dwarves in front of me and to my sides. I feel rather exposed, even though there is still a considerable gap between the front row and the Runethane’s throne.

“Where should I stand?” I hear Jaemes whisper to Cathez.

“Best go to the back.”

He goes to stand beside the initiates.

Then Runethane Yurok’s voice booms from his smoke-obscured throne: “Now that the ranks are formed, we will begin. Cathez, have the body brought forward.”

Commander Cathez nods to the stretcher bearers, who solemnly carry Mathek past our ranks toward the Runethane. They stop at the front of the steps.

“Bring him up.”

They obey.

“Lay him down before me.”

They do so, though I can barely see anything for the smoke. Runethane Yurok stands up from his throne and kneels down to remove Mathek’s shroud. He takes a hand in his armored gauntlet and lifts it up to his runic ear.

“He is not only drained of blood,” he says, “But of all life. Not a single spark of life-force remains in his flesh. This is the work of the deep darkness.”

“That is what I thought on first sight also, my Runethane,” says Cathez. “But examine his neck.”

Runethane Yurok peers at it. “A hollow hole.”

“Yes. He was pierced with something. The blood must have been drained through there. And the deep darkness does not cause bodily wounds.”

“True. True.” Yurok returns to his throne. “We must know the circumstances of his death down to the very last detail. Mount the steps, commander, and tell them to us clearly.”

Commander Cathez walks up the stairs carefully, then turns to face us and lays out the facts in full:

“Mathek’s body was discovered by the initiate Jothol when he went down to the third storage chamber to collect iron. He was lying between two stacks of seven millimeter titanium plate. He was lying on his side, curled up in a fetal position. Jothol immediately fled to the eating hall, where he informed Commander Hraroth.

“Commander Hraroth gathered five others and hurried to the storage room. He came to the body and decided that the best course of action would be the one that we have taken—to double the guard against the darkness and gather the rest of us at key, well defended areas of the fort. Mathek was killed when he was alone, after all. To scatter us about searching for whatever killed him would incur unnecessary risk.”

“Any other details?” asks Runethane Yurok.

“He was unarmed and unarmored. The last dwarf to see him was his friend Yithod, who saw him exit the forging pits. According to Yithod, he was working on a mace of light. Also, there was no blood on the body. Whatever killed him was very clean with its eating. ”

“It was the deep darkness,” says the Runethane. “There is no other possibility.”

“The deep darkness does not take anything physical, though.”

“That is true. However, there are only two threats to our fortress, the deep darkness and the creatures of the unexplored caverns above. The latter is impossible, since the only beasts that suck blood are found near the surface. Bats, I believe they are called. That leaves only the darkness.”

“Very good, my Runethane. Perhaps the darkness’s nature was... transformed when it became separated from the main shadow.”

“Indeed it must have been.”

There is silence for a while. I feel very cold, and my eyes flit from shadow to shadow, searching for any anomaly, any twisting or moving that might reveal that the escaped fragment of deep darkness is lurking there. Or worse, if one part of the deep darkness can separate and enter the fort, why not others? Perhaps we have already been infiltrated by dozens.

“I have decided what we shall do,” Runethane Yurok announces. “A search. Every last shadow in the fortress must be obliterated by light, one by one. Every cranny must be scoured with torches. Every chest must be opened, every shelf, even the pots in the kitchens. We must find this offshoot and destroy it.”

“We shall do so, my Runethane.”

“Good. I will leave the details of the operation to you and Commander Hraroth to plan. You are dismissed—”

“My Runethane!” comes a bold voice from the back of the room. It is Jaemes’. He is striding up the hall toward the Runethane’s throne, lantern held high. Amidst the smoke it looks like a single burning coal. He stops a few paces from the stairs.

“My Runethane, if I may be so bold as to give my opinion on the issue.”

“This is a matter of life and death,” Yurok snaps. “We have no time to waste.”

“Because it is a matter of life and death, I would feel guilty if I could not make a contribution.”

“Fine. You are the expert on the deep darkness here, after all,” he says sarcastically.

“Indeed I am.”

Somehow I feel that was the wrong reply. In the glow of Jaemes lantern I can see Runethane Yurok’s face clearly, and there is a sneer on it.

“Enlighten us, then. What do you think? How did part of the darkness get up here past the light? Give us your academic opinion.”

“It cannot have. Neither can the deep darkness exist as a fragment.”

“Oh?” The Runethane folds his arms. “You think I am wrong, do you?”

“I do,” Jaemes says boldly.

“Then I will hear your alternative theory. Or do you not have one? Are you about to whinge to me again about needing to go on an expedition down the Shaft that will put countless lives at unnecessary risk?”

“Obviously I am not going to petition you in the midst of a crisis.”

“A relief to hear.”

“And I do have a theory.”

“Hurry up and tell us then.”

“I shall. Despite the lack of evidence I have been allowed to gather these past ten years, I understand at least that the deep darkness is a singular entity.”

“Go on.”

“You ran through your logic before about how there are only two places from which the fort can be attacked. Above from beasts, and below from the darkness.”

“Indeed I did.”

“You were correct that no blood sucking beasts inhabit the caverns directly above us. Even if there were, I doubt they could slip in undetected.”

“The way you speak suggests that you think I was incorrect about something else.”

“Yes. You overlooked a separate angle of attack. Not from above or below, but from within.”

Runethane Yurok leans forward. “What are you getting at?”

“The simplest explanation here is not that the deep darkness has suddenly evolved to do something it has never been able to do before.”

I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“No, the simplest explanation for Mathek’s death is that he was murdered by another dwarf.”