Reunion

They spent that entire following week camping out and hunting, as did their friends, the King's Guard. They donned their disguises quite often, and journeyed into the camp of the enemy. They practiced their relations with them, blending in among their ranks. They would wander about for a while, gather what information and stocks they could get, use their supplies to cure their meats, and then wander back to their own clearing. They would compare their notes there, and the women would laugh amongst themselves, about their experiences of being men.

  Most of the time, however, they enjoyed the freedom outside the heavy, bulky bronze armor. Gerrod spent a lot of time out hunting with Star, simply enjoying the woods. They all knew it may be quite a while before they had this freedom again. Star was quite helpful in herding game toward him while he hid up in a tree. Many deer and other small game fell to their ambush and to the tip of his arrows. They cleaned the carcasses in the wild, and Star was usually paid quite well for his work. Gerrod even devised a small skid, and Star gladly helped haul the meat back to the camp. They soon had as much food prepared as they could carry.

  Ace used the hides of the deer to make water skins. Allison filled them in the same fresh creek the soldiers used, and sometimes they even went with the soldiers themselves, as part of their exercises. It wasn't quite ale, Ace protested, but it would help keep them going.

  They all knew this trip wasn't going to be fun, but they managed to keep themselves busy with their friends. All in all, it was time well spent. Gerrod decided this was better than cleaning more orcs off his sword. It felt good to be back with Wefpub again. He didn't realize how much he had come to miss the friends of his youth.

  At the start of the following weekend, the King's Guard started filing into the mouth of the cave. As if swallowing a giant, glittery snake, the long stream of bronze, red-crescent helms slithered in. Throughout this trip, the choice of the King's Guard to travel on the weekends upset the members of Wefpub greatly. The three days of the weekend were called the Dark Days. These were the days set aside for the evil races, and generally, no traveling or business was conducted on these days. Still, the King's Guard marched on, never even slowing to respect this long-standing tradition. Either their business was so urgent as to not be able to wait, or they truly were evil and chose to exercise their rights as such to march so boldly. Either way, Wefpub had no choice but to follow them into the cold, dark realm of the caves.

  Over Gerrod and Star's many years together, and through his lengthy stays with the kind stone dwarves, Star had grown remarkably adept at life in the caverns. Even as unnatural a setting as it was for him, he proved most helpful in routing out the armies of orcs who flooded into the mines. At times, he even seemed to enjoy it. He had learned to hide in the shadows and move silently in the hushed environment. His keen senses served him well, even in the unlit darkness. His loyalty to Gerrod was unquestionable; he would go wherever he sent him, trusting his friend wouldn't send him into any undue harm. If Gerrod was ever in trouble, Star was always there to help him out. In those years of traveling solitude, the wolf was far more than a simple companion -- he was a friend.

  Gerrod debated long and hard with Star, who knew what he was thinking. Gerrod was considering not allowing Star to follow him into the caves now. He would stay out if the ranger told him to, but Star pleaded with those warm, kind eyes not to. Gerrod had no idea what they would be facing, or even how long they would be, if they ever did return. If he commanded Star to stay, how long would he be bound to his command? Would that be fair, leaving him alone in the wilderness isolation? How could he ask him to accompany him into the unknown? He worried what might happen if the Guard discovered him.

  But through it all, Star simply stared at him. He stared at him as he had the day Gerrod first found him in that snow-covered pit. Through those wide-open eyes he could see what his companion thought, even without any mental connection. Gerrod could see the answers to all his questions and fears. Star did not want to stay behind. He begged him to trust in him and his abilities. He would follow him into the caves and fight horrors untold if need be, but he needed to be with him as much as Gerrod needed him near him. The bond that was between them would not allow that kind of separation. With a nod of understanding, Gerrod agreed. Star licked his face with gratitude.

  As the last of the troops formed up into their lines to enter the cave, the disguised women and Gerrod merged in. They joined as the rear ranks the best they could. Ace hid among the trees with Star and waited for them to enter and secure their positions as the rear guard. This allowed the two friends, while staying out of sight, to follow closer than they normally would have dared. It felt good to know that they had friends among the shadows behind them.

  The King's Guard, consisting of all humans of course, needed the aid of light to navigate through the dark stone corridors. This light came in the form of bright lanterns carried every so often down the winding trail of soldiers. They had used these same lanterns on their long marches through the nights. Now, with all daylight lost behind them, they proved invaluable.

  Having kept this journey up longer than LaBairne had anticipated when they had left the comforts of Oswegonia many weeks ago, the pure oil these lamps burnt was almost depleted. As a substitute, they used the oil from boiled animal fat, from the week's worth of hunting. It didn't burn as brightly as the finer oil the thick wicks were used to, but the shadows still ran up the walls and created an unnumbered amount of phantasms and imaginary monsters that leapt out at the minds of the troops.

  The fat didn't burn nearly as cleanly as the fine oil did either. Thick black smoke gathered at the ceiling above as the army passed underneath. In the still, stale air of the long forgotten corridors, the smoke choked their lungs.

  The stone corridors they traversed were probably gnomish in origin, Corinna decided. She studied the complex maze and the craftsmanship after several hours of marching. It excited them to consider the possibility that these might be the fabled Thraxton Mines.

  According to myth, centuries ago there was an entire community of gnomes who settled in a place they called the Thraxton Mines. These industrious, shorter cousins of the dwarves carved themselves an ancestral home out of the mountain. In that mountain, they found streams of rare and precious gems. Marveled by their great beauty, the gnomes traded these gems to other races on trips into Highpoint, where they were greatly valued for their size and quality. The gnomes used this wealth to buy only the best of everything. In the Thraxton Mines, the gnomes lived in lavish splendor.

  These corridors, as was the gnome custom, were carved out in an ancestral tree-type design. Whenever a new generation would start a family, the gnomes would dig down a set number of feet, and start a new level of the mines. Then, as every son of the family came of age, they would start a new tunnel off the original family room, thus starting a new branch in the tree. At the intersection of the two tunnels, they would carve the name of the founding male. When it came time for them to start a family of their own, they again would dig down another level. In this way, the entire structure became a physical record of the gnomish community and history.

  Gnomes weren't a greedy lot, and so they tended to mine wherever the rocks led them. And it never mattered whether there may be gems left on the level above, the son would always drop down to his own level upon the birth of his first child. This had been their way for generations upon generations, and the stubborn gnomes never varied. Family and tradition were of utmost importance to them.

  Eventually, the gnomes created this marvelous complex maze of inter-connecting caverns. In fact, the industrious gnomes were said to have eventually dug down so deeply, that they came upon an extensive underground world known simply as the Underworld. The Underworld was an area where all the deepest and darkest of evils lived. It was believed that the demons themselves lived there, and all who entered were doomed to die.

  It wasn't long after this that the gnomes st
arted to disappear. According to stories told in Highpoint, relayed by those who brought the gems there for trade, whole families were snatched right up without traces. It was believed, among the gnomish people, that perhaps they had gone too far down, opened up a gateway into the Underworld, and had released one of those demons upon the world. They believed that it was this demon that devoured the missing gnomes. Eventually, the gnomes of the Thraxton Mines stopped coming to Highpoint all together. The location of their hidden mines was never found, but it was said that there were plenty of gems and riches awaiting those that found those hallowed halls.

  And so it was that they became excited by the prospects that perhaps they had found the fabled mines. If so, then Rai'dley's tale to the King was true, and that may have been reason enough to bring an entire army all the way from Oswegonia to protect the find. However, they feared if that was the case, then the whole trip wouldn't have brought them any closer to the Orb of the Righteous.

  Persistently, they trudged onward.

  Perhaps as much as LaBairne disliked the woods, Gerrod disliked the mines. Being a man of nature, he found nothing natural in the endless miles of carved tunnels. Sheer, cubicle walls sliced out of solid rock by the forces of the eternal pick strikes of the diminutive gnomes. Short as they were, though, they enjoyed their space, and all of their tunnels were a standard ten-foot tall. For this, at least, Gerrod was grateful.

  Judging by the state of disrepair, the mines had obviously been abandoned many eons ago. There were sections that had caved in, and needed excavating to allow their passage, and other areas that were completely impassable due to the mushrooms that clogged the wide hallways. But in all those years, the mines had not stayed empty. On the upper levels, they found several bands of kobolds, gnolls and goblins that had organized together to take advantage of any poor creatures that might have wandered into the caves. Later, on the lower levels, they found only signs of the forces that lurked around the corners and carefully hid away from the passing of such a large army. There were also many underground creatures, cave fishers, black puddings, and even some minotaurs that had found a home among the dank but secure ruins.

  Those beasts that the army could not avoid conflict with fell under the greater masses of two hundred skilled swords. They easily overran the beasts, accomplishing with their great armor and skill what the orcs had tried to do to the stone dwarves for centuries. Gerrod used his knowledge of this battle style to quickly gain the advantage for his party. Many times they would slice a clear path through the back of the defenders and wait out the conflict. They had no qualms with these creatures, and no desire to prove themselves in battling these outnumbered unfortunates.

  Still, there were no animals the ranger was familiar and comfortable with, no trees or bushes; not even grass. The closest thing the caverns offered in the way of plant life were strange mushrooms and a perverted, slimy fungus, which coated everything. Perhaps worst of all, they had stolen the sky from him and left him with nothing but a cold, dark slab of stone. There were no stars or moon to say good night to, and no bright sun to greet him in the morning. Even in the stone dwarven mines, he often found it necessary to return to the surface just to breathe in the cool, fresh air. The air in the underground becomes so stale.

  Without the sun and the moon above them, time and direction lost all meaning. There was no way to tell when one day ended and the next day started. Their slow, descending journey became stilted as the army marched until they were tired or hungry. They rested only as long as they needed before picking up where they left off. It was impossible to tell whether they had been days, weeks, or months.

  It was when they finally left the neatly cut, smooth walled corridors and entered into the more natural chambers that they knew they had entered the Underworld. With this change came many new sights, wonders, and horrors. The natural caverns of the Underworld provided much more variety and interest than the endless corridors of repetitious, monotonous tunnels. Each natural chamber was filled with oddly shaped and wondrous stalactites and stalagmites. There were ponds of water, acid, and occasionally, a stream of molten lava. They were hot, cold, wet, or dry. Sometimes they were huge, expanding before them into the darkness beyond the normal limits of the lamps, and still other times they needed to squeeze themselves through openings barely large enough for their bulky armor to fit through. More and more natural life could be seen. A greater variety in the peculiar mushroom plants, and a large number of red glowing, infravisioned eyes peered out at them. These creatures of darkness simply watched with wonder as the large army passed through. They contemplated feasting on all of their carcasses.

  For the most part, the beasts they faced in the mines had wandered in from the surface, but the beasts of the Underworld belonged to the darkness. These terrible monsters had probably never seen the light of the surface-world, and the army prayed for the sake of the civilizations there that they never would. The fighting skills demonstrated by these new opponents were much more advanced and deadly, revealing the ever-present struggle to survive in the harsh environment of the wild Underworld. They fought with new and always amazing forms of defense and weapons. They required constantly changing fighting tactics, and it was not hard to see how a couple of these terrible nightmares could have easily wiped out all of the peaceful, mining gnomes. The vast numbers of the army certainly aided them, and they left behind a trail of devastation to pay for their few casualties.

  Perhaps the most striking feature of the Underworld was the brilliant, beautiful colors. They were surprisingly abundant for a lightless world. And there was the silence that was as complete and unending as the darkness itself.

  In the flickering light of their smoky lanterns, they saw vibrant colors of indescribable beauty, whether they were in mushrooms, which grew to the size of trees, swirling in effervescent pools of mysterious waters, swelling up or oozing out of cracks in the form of mineral deposits, or blended into the flesh of the creatures they encountered, the strange hues were often like nothing they had ever seen on the surface. The most baffling part was that in this strange, eternal darkness, color could serve no purpose. It was as if nature decided to take advantage of this secret world to experiment. Most often, these experiments met with fantastic results.

  As the use of color was unnecessary in the eternal darkness, the use of sound was of paramount importance. Gerrod noticed this early on, missing the familiar, comforting sounds of the birds singing and the wind blowing. Besides their incredible infravision abilities that these creatures needed to survive, the ability to detect any kind of sound gave them their only other outlet for exploring their world.

  Most creatures moved effortlessly without a whisper of moving air. Their feet touched down in such ways as to only brush the ground, barely stirring dust. Gerrod was convinced that the constant clanking of armor and hushed whispers of two hundred men, which were deafening in the absoluteness of the Underworld, brought them far more attention from these always-hungry predators than they needed to have. Still, their most valiant efforts at silence failed miserably compared to the inherited abilities of the denizens of the darkness. For them, silence meant survival.

  Chapter 18

  Falling Star