This week, I don't want to say too much of anything because I might blow the reveal. So! Enjoy!
Under the Living Mountain
“Careful. Stand back.”
Under the Living Mountain
“Careful. Stand back.”
The muffled
words worked their way through the stone to an empty cavern on the other
side. Perhaps empty is too strong a
word. For the moment, lifeless.
“I’m always careful. You be careful.”
“You’re never
careful, which is why you’re always in trouble.”
“Well then I’m
lucky I have you to get me out of trouble, huh.
Lucky me. You gonna blow this thing or what?”
“I would if you’d
get out of the way.” The two voices
stilled for a moment.
There was a deep
intake of breath.
“Ixen garmth!” One
of the voices shouted! The last syllable
was lost in a thundering explosion, a spell triggered by those ancient words. The thick stone wall shattered in an instant,
a crack and a roar tumbling through the now gaping hole with a column of flame.
The cavernous walls lit up like the noonday sun and receded into darkness in an
instant.
Eventually, with
much coughing at the hanging dust, two figures appeared in the breach. One held a torch, the other simply held up
his hand, a glowing mote of dust suspended above it. They cautiously entered the cavern.
“That’s always
fun.” The one with the torch said, flicking some dust off his shoulders.
“You have no
idea.” The other replied, smiling. He
held out his hand, and the mote moved into the air, spreading light farther and
farther into the room.
“What is this
place?” The torch-wielder asked. “The
stone on the walls looks carved, but...”
“But we’re a
mile underground, and haven’t seen a dwarven rune once? I know... I’m confused too. Look over there.” He pointed up into the
corner. “Looks like a turret, from a keep. “ And indeed it did appear to be the
insides of a turret, holding back the stone of the mountain.
“So... how did
it get buried?”
“That, my shifty
friend... is an excellent question.” The wizard started moving towards the far
end of the room, picking his way over rubble and shattered floor, until he
kicked something protruding from the jumble and heard a clang. He looked down. “Hey, come look at this...”
the wizard cocked his head.
“What is it?”
The torch-bearer asked, gingerly working his way over the sharp and, in some
cases, hot rocks.
“I’m not sure...
it almost looks like...” He reached down, brushing dust and debris from the
object. “Like a mask. No wait... a whole
head.”
The torch bearer
grimaced, not liking the thought of yet another headless body mystery.
“No... there’s
more... put that down and come help me.” The wizard instructed, delicately
removing shattered stone and ancient debris from his find. The torch bearer
jabbed his torch in the ground, shrugged, and got to work.
Before long the
two of them stood over a fully exposed, prone figure made of metal and wood.
“Sooo.... is it
armour?” The torch bearer ventured skeptically.
“I don’t think
so.” The wizard replied, crouching down.
He hefted a heavy arm, and let it drop with a resounding thud. “Too
heavy. Must be solid.”
“Sculpture then?”
The thing looked, more or less, like a man in armour. It must have weighed three
hundred pounds all told, and lying on the floor made for a very perplexing
mystery. The only other feature the two
men had uncovered was a simple wooden shield, banded in iron. How it had survived all these centuries down
here was a mystery all its own, but was dwarfed by the purpose of the strange
metal man lying on its back. “Maybe a form, to make armour on. Or like... a mountable closet.”
“Then why make
it flexible?” The wizard asked, bending the fingers and the wrist. The thing only had three fingers on each
hand, including the thumb. “And they
certainly weren’t making any gauntlets.”
“Alright then,
wise guy. What do you think?”
The wizard
stared at the lifeless form, gazing into its cold metal face. He chewed his lip. He squinted. He brushed at the dust on the
collar of the thing, revealing a series of letters and numbers.
He stroked his
small beard.
“I think we
should turn it on.” The wizard said, cracking his knuckles and placing his
hands over the thing’s chest. Tiny
rivulets of energy began to course down his arms from his torso, collecting in
his hands.
“Uhh... Not my
vote. Not my vote!” The torch bearer exclaimed, stepping back. It was too late, the wizard had made up his
mind and that was that.
The torch bearer
ducked and ran for cover with a finesse that belied his experience with
impulsive wizards.
The energy
coalesced in the wizard’s palms, glowing a soft purple that intensified with
each passing second. “Tlush vers ropoqu...”
the wizard muttered, gently lowering his hands to the thick metal breastplate
of the thing. The energy coursed through
the thing, illuminating every nook and cranny, every crack and every seam,
rushing across the body like lightning and settling in the dark sockets where
eyes would belong. Instead of eyes, a pair of shimmering yellow dots shone out,
slowly fading to a light glow as the power the wizard had imbued settled.
There was a
slight creaking sound, which echoed through the space.
A low
crack. The “eyes” remained motionless,
as did the heavy form.
Time
passed.
The wizard
turned to see where his travelling companion had hid, and as his eyes left the
body on the ground, it moved.
With incredible
speed it lashed out, grabbing the wizard’s neck in a vice-grip with its three
fingers, at the same time spinning and rising, slipping its arm expertly into
the discarded shield.
In an instant,
the thing was standing upright, the wizard lifted off the ground in front of it
by his throat, its shield brought to bear in the direction of the hiding torch
bearer. The wizard gasped and struggled,
tugging at the metal fingers squeezing out his breath.
The metal
monstrosity opened its jaw, paused, and then shut it. The wizard stared at it. It’s eyes were flickering, like it was
thinking. The jaw opened and closed
again. The face remained impassive. The
wizard clawed at his throat, trying to hold himself up on the metal arm that
never wavered, never moved. The wizard
reached out, and gripped the collar of the thing, trying to push himself away.
The jaw opened
once more. A grating, metallic sound squealed out into the still air, followed
by words that were obviously artificial, but bore a strangely human note of
confusion... and fear.
“What... is...
this unit?” The creature asked the wizard, its eyes intense but still
flickering, still trying to remember.
The wizard’s
face was puffy and red now; he was close to passing out. He gasped at the thing holding him aloft,
wanting to tell it he had no idea. That
there was no way he could know. That if he didn’t let go this instant the wizard
would explode his skull with a fireball.
But nothing came out. His head
started to loll in the metal man’s grip, his vision starting to tunnel.
He could see
along his arm to the collar of the thing.
Four symbols, right next to his thumb.
His eyes darted up to the creature’s flickering lights.
The thing was
eerily motionless, even as the wizard struggled. It was like a metal statue, a statue with a
question.
“Pu... Puh....”
it was getting hard to see the symbols now.
Everything was so dark. P...
3.... T.... “Puh...” The wizard gasped, his breath gone. P, 3, T, R.
He let go of the collar, and groped at the thing’s face.
“Peter” he
whispered, and fell unconscious. The
thing didn’t move, it stayed motionless, holding the form of the wizard aloft. It’s
jaw opened, and closed.
It opened again.
“What... does a
Peter do?” It asked the wizard’s unconscious body. When the wizard didn’t respond, it cocked it’s
head.
From the
shadows, behind a huge piece of debris, the torch bearer whispered “Screw it.”
He closed his
eyes, made peace with his god, and shouted to the monstrosity holding his
friend.
“WELL, THEY DON’T STRANGLE WIZARDS, FOR
STARTERS!”
No comments:
Post a Comment