Legend of the Runeforger: A Dwarven Progression Fantasy

The castle halls are now quiet of the happy shouts and rummaging of ransacking. Hardrick makes it about seven or eight hours since the battle ended. No longer does it feel like a dream, but something very real. His throat is sore from the hard breathing and harder shouting of orders, and there's a harsh stinging in the small holes in his chest and arms where that bastard’s halberd got through.

He’s not quite at the pinnacle of crafting yet, it seems.

“Get on with it,” says one of the Golden Guard. Braedle, with the axes like her father’s and his cold blue eyes too.

“All right, all right,” Hardrick grumbles, and raises Silverslash.

The four of them plus several of Hardrick's lieutenants are standing before a massive circular door of pure tungsten. It radiates solidity and weight; Hardrick finds it hard to fathom the amount of gold it must have taken to acquire the metal. At the center of the door is a small wheel inlaid with numbers, also of tungsten. Braedle tried to guess the combination, failed twice, then on the third failure something ground and clanked inside and now the wheel can no longer be turned.

Hardrick cuts deep. Though Silverslash can slice through rock as easily as it might through water, hacking into the tungsten is much like hacking wood with ordinary steel. Doable, certainly, but damn hard. Sweat pours down his beard and his arms burn as by slash after slash he cleaves the tungsten apart. Jagged irregular shards clatter to the ground.

After a solid half hour of hacking, he's through. A portal of razor splinters and spikes lead into darkness.

"Let's take a look," Braedle chirps, and she shoves past Hardrick and into Thanerzak's personal chamber, closely followed by the other two Golden Guard.

Hardrick listens to frustrated shouting and the crashing of metal for several minutes.

"It's not fucking there!" Braedle shouts in Hardrick's face. "Where the fuck is it?"

“Huh?” Hardrick growls back at her. “What isn’t fucking there?”

“The damn key!”

“What key?”

“The key my father’s looking for, that’s what!”

“I never heard nothing about no key.”

“If one of your soldiers has smashed it to bits to sell off...” warns another of the Golden Guard. “There’ll be damn hell to pay.”

“Like I said, I never heard nothing about no fucking key.”

“It’s diamond,” snaps Braedle. “About two feet long. It was meant to be here, and it isn’t. Get your soldiers on it. My father will not be happy if it goes missing.”

“Sure, sure,” Hardrick sighs. “Danath, you listening to this?”

“Yeah,” says the tall blonde dwarf. The gold of his armor and axe of speed are obscured by dark dried crimson.

“Go get your battalion to search around. And ask around too, in case anyone’s already picked it up.”

“Sure. What’s the punishment if someone’s found it and not told us?”

“Death,” Braedle snarls. “A painful death.”

It proves easy to make it back to the apartment. I was right about us having plenty of time: the ransacking of the city hasn’t begun yet, so distracted is Broderick’s army by the riches of the castle. The only smoke that does rise is from the shop and industrial districts and some of the larger guildhalls. Ordinary homes have not been touched, and on account of my tattered armband none of the few runeknights we come across attack.

Hayhek and Yezakh fly up the stairs. Hayhek fumbles with the key for a moment before the door swings inward and he’s pulled in among screams and cries of relief.

“We lived!” he says. “We escaped!”

I follow up and, after the family finishes hugging one another, am shown in.

“He saved us,” Yezakh says proudly. “This is Zathar... We’d have been killed if he hadn’t stopped us going in... He’s a genius.”

I wince slightly at the beaming young dwarf’s praise, and shake my head.

“It was just the most sensible option.”

“Come in, come in!” Hayhek’s wife says, and we’re hurried into their living room and sat down. She’s as gray of hair as her husband, and her face is lined even deeper. Raising four children must be no easy task. As hard as being a runeknight, maybe.

“You should get your armor off,” she says.

“No,” Hayhek says. “No, we don’t know what Broderick’s dwarves are going to do.”

“So it’s all lost then? It’s over?”

“For now. Until the dragon hunt returns, if they even know what’s happened here. Even then, Thanerzak has vanished. Or at least, I haven’t seen him since he fought Broderick.”

“If he was dead we’d know,” Yezakh says, to reassure his mother whose face has turned paper white. “Broderick would be dragging him through the city, or something like that.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m sure the Runethane's fine.”

“The things you must have seen...” she says.

“We’re fine. Everything’s okay. We just need to sit things out, is all. Until the dragon hunt returns.”

“I’ll get some food ready.”

I spend the rest of the day there, sprawled out half on the floor and half on their battered sofa, armor on of course. Heartseeker I prop against the wall, sharp end away from the three young daughters, but ready to be snatched up at a moment’s notice. The wrapped key stays clasped tightly to my chest, and for further security I tie it there with several of Hayhek’s old leather belts.

Dinner is rather basic fare, for Hayhek tells his wife that it’s not going to be safe to go outside for a while yet. Just a couple of sausages and some minced mushrooms, washed down with cheap beer and even some water. As we eat Hayhek and Yezakh lay out the tale in full. I nearly stop them mentioning the key, for something makes me feel like no one ought to know it’s here, but I can’t draw suspicion to myself. Who knows what Hayhek will do for his family? He likes me, but he loves them.

Eventually I manage to drift off to sleep. In its blackness I rush through tunnels running with splashing blood. I feel hot breath on the back of my neck, hear the clamor of clashing metal behind me. I hold the key before me, and race down, down, down. In front of me is a shadowed figure, standing still, yet no matter how fast I run he’s always the same distance away.

A loud tapping sound wakes me. My eyes snap open. The knocking comes again.

“Shit!” Hayhek hisses. It’s woken him up too; he hurries to his feet. “Everyone, in your rooms! Hide!”

“I’m staying with you,” Yezakh whispers. “Right behind you.”

“Fine. But behind me!”

I stand up too, take up Heartseeker and and follow Hayhek to the front door. The knocking comes once more, loudly and rudely, then when we don’t answer, we hear angry voices on the other side.

“Unlock the door, woman!”

“Like I said, no dwarf like that lives here!”

Hayhek whispers to me: “That’s the landlady.”

“She’s lying!” says a third voice. “Three dwarves entered here for sure! One young with a dark beard. Don’t you trust our soldiers, Danath?”

“Not really, as a matter of fact.”

“One of them had something wrapped up! Something suspicious! The thing you’re looking for, has to be!”

Hayhek’s eyes narrow at me, but he says nothing.

“Awfully keen for a reward, aren’t you?” sneers Danath.

“No one like that lives here!” the landlady wails. “And whoever has what you’re looking for has to be one of your own anyway!”

“Maybe he has contacts here, spies,” Danath says. “Either way, I don’t care. I’ve been door-knocking all fucking night. Open the door, woman!”

“They’re a nice family!” the woman wails. “Don’t hurt them, please!”

“We won’t hurt anyone if they aren’t harboring the thief. Open the damned door!”

A rattling in the lock signifies a key being turned.

“Stop!” Hayhek shouts. “Get out of here! We don’t have anyone or anything!”

“You were listening, were you?” says Danath.

“We don’t have anyone or anything!” Yezakh repeats. “And we’re armed!”

He points his steel axe toward the doorway. He didn't make a spear like I’d suggested, but the axe is longer than most and has a sharp spike on the end.

The lock clicks. The door opens a crack, and Hayhek slams his shield against it to slam it shut.

“Damn you!” shouts Danath. “You are hiding something. If you don’t open the door, when I get in I’ll kill every one of you.”

“What the hell is going on?” Hayhek hisses to me. “What the hell is that thing you stole?”

“Something I need!”

“To hell you need it!”

“What is it, Zathar?” Yezakh asks. “Why do you need it?”

“It’s...”

I’m panicking. My hands are shuddering and my breath catches on the dryness in my throat. My nerves are shot, completely, and I think I’ve heard the voice on the other side of the door before. I look from Hayhek to Yezakh, and back to the wife and daughters peeking from the living room. Have I just killed them all? I need to make this right, somehow. Distract the runeknights.

“Open up!” comes the voice of the second runeknight, and he slams the door with his body or shield—either way it’s forced open a crack. A golden axe wedges into the gap. It’s shivering, the silver runes of speed on it blurry. It’s an axe I well recognise.

“I’ll go out the back window,” I whisper.

“And leave us to—” hisses Hayhek.

“No!”

“Then—”

“Hey, you, runeknights!” I suddenly shout. “I have what you’re looking for!”

“Do you now?” says Danath.

“A key, isn’t it? Diamond, and as long as your arm.”

“Open the door!” Danath shouts to his underling. “Bash it in!”

A massive impact breaks the door vertically in half. Hayhek is thrown backwards past me, and I see a dwarf in steel armor holding a two-handed hammer like a battering ram. A tall dwarf in crimson-coated gold stands behind and to his right.

Heartseeker moves in a blur. The precision and speed gifted by my gauntlets has it in perfect striking position in an instant, and then all I have to do is push it forward and let its hungry bloody runes seek out the hammerdwarf’s throat.

He has no time to react. It goes straight in under the helmet and out the other end. I feel it turn toward Danath—it nearly takes my revenge then and there, but he sidesteps.

I rip Heartseeker from the hammerdwarf’s throat. Blood sprays out over me from the hole. Danath raises his axe for a lightning-strike, but I’m already leaping over the falling corpse and bull-tackling him.

We crash out into the corridor and hit the iron railing guarding us from the three-story drop to the apartment block’s entrance hall. It snaps and we both plummet; I land on him heavily. For a moment we’re locked in embrace, the wind smashed out from both of us. I get mine back faster, sit up and drive my right fist at his face.

The speed runes of his armor win out and the golden blur of his left fist reaches my face first. I’m thrown sideways, the noise of the strike against my helmet ringing in my ears. I’m only halfway back to my feet when he’s right before me, axe cleaving down toward my head.

I whip Heartseeker upward and knock the blow off-course so it only grazes my shoulder. A feint to his eyes makes him flinch, and I scuttle back to prepare myself for his next attack.

“You’re stealing from the Runethane,” he says. He looks at the wrapped key bound to my chest. “The punishment is death. Hand the key over now and I’ll give you a quick one. Refuse, and I’ll cut your feet off, drag you to our guildhall, and throw you into a vat of molten steel.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s exactly what you said last time. Danath, was it? Nice to put a name to the face.”

“What?”

I push my visor up to let him see my smile. Maybe the shock at seeing me back from the dead will take him off guard. It does for an instant, and I strike at his belly. He blocks with a quick rotation of his axe, follows up a slash at my arm I only just take my gauntlet out the way of. He makes as if to strike again, and I dash back, but he stops the strike and laughs.

“This is too good! It’s eerie! Holy shit, this is eerie. Are you and Hardrick tied by fate, or something!”

“What?” I spit.

“Oh, hell, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he hears about this.”

“Hardrick? What the hell does he have to do with anything?”

“Tell you what, Zuthur, give me the key and I’ll let you live. Hardrick might give me a nice reward if he gets you alive.”

“What the hell are you on about?” I shout.

“I’m on about our great commander, that’s who! Hardrick, the Silver Savage, Runethane Broderick’s favorite new general!”

My body grows cold. My stomach tightens to a knot.

“Well, what do you say, Zuthur? Give me the key and I’ll let you live.”

There is nothing to say. Nothing to do but fight this lying bastard of a dwarf. Thinks he can throw me off my fighting game, does he? He’s underestimated me.

I feint high. His axe blurs up to block, but I tilt Heartseeker down and aim it right at the chink in his armor above his right knee and drive it down through the chainmail and leather into the flesh. Rip it out just as fast, and I’m already back in fighting-stance. Blood runs down his greave.

Danath howls in pain. I aim Heartseeker for a high strike.

“What’s going on!” comes a shout from behind me.

I glance back. Standing there are three runeknights holding heavy sacks of loot.

“Get him!” Danath hisses. “He’s the thief! Get—”

I strike at his face, but his axe, fast as ever, knocks Heartseeker away, then it comes down at my chest, slicing the wrapping of the key. The diamond bit shines in the lamplight.

I feint again for distraction, then turn and dash toward the three runeknights in the middle of drawing their weapons. I aim Heartseeker at the eyes of the middle one. He screams in terror and sidesteps, and I’m through, hurtling through the night.

But I can hear footsteps behind me, hot on my heels. I glance back and see Danath. His leg is injured, but with his runes of speed he can run still. The parts of his golden armor where the dried blood has flaked away are flashing yellow in the moonlight.

“Thief!” he screams out. “Get him! Everyone get him, and you’ll be rewarded beyond imagination!”

As I run I look up at the dark stalactites for any sign of the dragon, but see none.