Twisting and winding, the roads towards the Deep Well brought the group deeper and deeper into the mountain. Bolin showed them ways to bypass to the checkpoints and busy streets. They used mine shafts and perilous trails to descend. Soon enough they had bypassed the common section entirely. All that was left was the noble level and the last military level below that.
"So if I got this right, it's military, merchant, commoner, noble, then military again right?" Blem asked. Nobody had talked since Mysanda gave Bolin the key, so Blem's attempt at starting a conversation was more awkward than it should have been.
"Yes, it's organized that way to avoid attacks from above and below," Bolin replied matter-of-factly.
"Below I can understand, but above? What idiot tries to assault a Dwarven hold through the front?" Pleck asked rhetorically.
Bolin thought for a moment, "we were about to, if those guards didn't let us pass."
Pleck snorted, "Point taken." The rest of the trip was quiet but dangerous. The hidden side paths and mineshafts became steep slopes and climbing walls. Bolin used his druidic powers to grow vines and moss as leverage for the group to use as they descended. Before they knew it Bolin had led them to a secluded tunnel in the mountain that gave them a perch overlooking the noble section. The noble section of the mountain was an incredible sight to behold. Huge stone mansions, towering spires that fused into the ceiling, bejeweled statues, and even richly woven banners all adorned this part of the city. Unlike the haphazard organization of the common and merchant sections, this part of the mountain was arranged almost perfectly. In the centre was a great fortified building, and buildings circled it. When Blem took it all in it looked like an over-engineered wheel with too many spokes.
"Where's your house," Elia asked while the group rested.
"Near the outer circle of the imperial palace, its the one that looks like a big wedge with three statues on it." Bolin pointed towards the centre of the city. In the centre of the city was the Imperial palace, which glittered brilliantly against its stone surroundings, its four spires and central keep shooting proudly into the air just a few dozen meters shy of the ceiling. Bolin revealed that while the bulk of the palace was found on this level, the rest of the palace rested below.
"Been meaning to ask," Pleck said aloud, "what's the penalty if we get caught. I don't imagine guards will take kindly to the fact we've been sneaking behind their backs to get to this, 'deep door,' or what have you."
Bolin stroked his red beard before adopting a grim look. "Death. I don't imagine anything else. No need for formalities either. As far as they are concerned we are mere brigands trying to plunder the depths."
So this is what God-Blin meant when he said getting to the statue would be difficult. "In that case," Blem spoke in false confidence, "I trust you'll get us there in one piece." Bolin nodded, his grim face releasing some of the tension he had been welling up. The darkness that gripped them a couple levels up seemed to get stronger with every step they took. Blem found it was a hard feeling to describe, like wandering through a thick fog where he could taste the foulness in the air; meanwhile he was certain he saw phantoms dancing in the corners of his eyes, yet when he turned to look there was nothing save the nagging feeling of being watched.
When the group managed to reach the last military level they noted it was almost deathly silent. The braziers burned weakly, as if the fire itself had grown tired of burning. The patrols that seldom wandered did so listlessly and lazily. The group would have been spotted were it not for the complete apathy these guards displayed. The forts and towers, fearsome and imposing, seemed almost evil in light of the bad feelings the group felt. There were many military style buildings and defenses, but it never seemed like anyone truely manned them. It was almost comical with how easily they bypassed the defences.
Pleck, stoic and stern, seemed unnaturally jumpy, occasionally training his bow on the shadows. Elia looked absolutely dour. Occasionally she'd flash an angry glare at anyone who dared look her in the eyes, before looking away in what seemed to be a mix of shame and annoyance. Bolin said nothing, it seemed as if the evil air had gripped his tongue and refused to let go. The only one who seemed to spared was Blem, and even he could feel his nerves fraying.
After an hour of the tedium the group finally found themselves at the edges of the last military section. Before them laid one last checkpoint that led to the tunnels; one of which would lead them to the Deep Door. They waited by the edges of the cavern, cloaked in shadow. Elia snapped,"What are waiting for, its right there!?"
"We should... we should take it easy. Thought I saw something over there," Pleck pointed nowhere in particular. Bolin did not speak, whether he lacked the strength or the courage to do so was lost on Blem.
"Alright," Blem put his hands in the air, "wait here, and when I give the go ahead come with me."
The group did not protest, though they did watch the goblin wearily. This trip was draining, and worst of all they hadn't even done anything yet. Blem forced the thought aside, he skittered in the darkness, keeping to the edges of the open cavern as best as he could. When he got to the checkpoint he wished he hadn't wasted the effort. It was empty, no guards, no vermin, just dust and echoes. He waved the group over, an sense of incredulity coloring his motions.
The air seemed to lose Bolin's tongue. "Where are they?" he mused.
Pleck likewise seemed to snap out of his stupor, "They've been gone awhile, no footprints and no trash."
"I trust they don't up and abandon post like this often, right?" Elia spoke, the edge in her voice gone.
"Hey you guys are normal-ish again," Blem replied cheerfully.
"normal-ish?" Elia replied quizzically.
"He's right," Bolin replied. "I don't feel so tense anymore."
The group looked towards the tunnel before looking back at Blem. The goblin looked to his belt and saw daggers glowed a majestic blue. Time seemed to stop. Elia and Pleck seemed to freeze mid-glance. Bolin looked like he had something to say before he froze with words trapped on the edge of his lips. Everything was still, save for the rattling of chains. Blem looked to the chasm and saw God-Blin slowly walking towards him. "What's going on?" Blem asked dumbfounded, "did I fail already?"
"No," God-Blin replied. "I figured you could use some help, and since you're getting close to the shrine I decided to expend some of the last vestiges of its power towards protecting your sanity."
"Vestiges? I thought you said the other gods shut it down completely? What vestiges could it have?"
"They did shut it down; someone came around and reactivated it, albeit in a bastardized manner."
"Why do you need me to activate it if its already active then?" Blem confusion grew deeper, which seemed to spur God-Blin on.
"Well the answer is simple, it may be active, but whatever power could be sent my way is being siphoned by something else. Purifying the shrine with the holy water will reactivate and ward it against future intrusions."
"Something else?"
God-Blin began to flicker, like a candle's flame just about to burn out. "Look Blem I realize you have a lot of questions but I cannot keep this up any longer. The shrine is on the other side of the Deep Door, and several levels down. Purify the shrine, stay safe and get home. Also you have an small squad of demon worshippers coming for you, I'd take care of that if I were you."
Time resumed. Bolin asked Blem if his daggers always glowed blue. "Man the checkpoint we got trouble coming." The group exchanged confused glances as Blem took up a position on one of the Checkpoints guard towers. The murderhole gave him a clear view of the cavern.
The rest of the group came up to Blem, "What's shadowing us?" Pleck asked.
"Demon worshippers, if I'm right," Blem replied matter-of-factly.
Blem's random foresight unnerved the group, though only Bolin let it show on his face. The group made a quick plan before running off to their positions. Pleck manned a ballista1A ballista is basically a upsized crossbow designed to fire upsized bolts. Ballista varies in depiction and design. In real life, Ballistae are typically manned by a crew of people on account of the fact that they are siege weapons. Contrary to popular depiction some ballista models were capable of firing shot instead of bolt, kind of like a big slingshot that can be wound. In fantasy Ballistae usually feature more fantastical depictions, such as automatic ballistae, or auto loading ballistae. Because the Dwarfs of Red Spear are great engineers, the Ballista Pleck is using is an autoloading ballista. left in the opposite checkpoint tower. Bolin fortified the doors and windows with thorny vines. Elia on the other hand scrambled around for something useful. She was beginning to bemoan her status as the sole melee fighter in the party. She was really starting to regret passing on those archery lessons back when she still lived in her village. In the end she gathered enough heavy scrap and stones and placed them in a barrel. With her barrel in tow she took up position on the bridge that ran between the towers and over the gate.
The checkpoint was half-wood and half-stone and placed just before the tunnels to the deep. Their backs were to the tunnels, while they faced a wide open cavern. The only entrance to this area was a lone tunnel they had to trek through. In other words they had the perfect defensive position, assuming the entire dwarven army wasn't behind them. That prospect alone put ice in Blem's veins. It didn't matter if they could hold them off for a while; arrows would run out, exhaustion would set in, food would deplete, it was a no win scenario. That's what made the waiting insufferable. Minutes felt like hours, and the only comfort Blem had was the bow at his side. Then again if it were worse than that then surely God-Blin would've warned him.
The waiting finally came to an end a few minutes later. At first some ragged cultist trickled out of the tunnel. They wore shabby cloaks and held sturdy hand-axes and bucklers. On their robes was a poor facsimile of a bearded head painted in read. The wide eyes on the symbolic head stared emptily, much like the cultist themselves. Behind them came some city guards in their bulky armor, their intricate carvings and bejeweled armor hidden by black surcoats decorated in blasphemous symbols. Leading them from the back was a cadre of dwarven sorcerors, each one wearing identical plain grey robes. All together their must have been forty of them.
Blem took a sharp breath and nocked an arrow. He did as Pleck instructed him before, and felt a weird sense of calm wash over him. He drew the arrow slowly, and trained his sights on the lightly armored zealots out front. The cultist also advanced slowly and casually. Their lack of caution was their undoing. The ballista impaled a guard with a three foot spike and sent him flying. Blem rained arrows from his perch on the unsuspecting front liners. Pleck's ballista fired another bolt at another armored guard; this time the force of the bolt was enough to sever and pin a guard's leg to the cavern floor.
The sorcerors cast their spells of protection while the guards and zealots rallied. The guards formed a shield wall while the zealots rushed the checkpoint. The ballista loosed another bolt, shattering a guards tower shield and killing the man behind it. Stubbornly the wall resumed marching. The zealots were being picked off by blem but not fast enough to make an appreciable dent in their force. Elia joined in with her throwing axes. Each one struck true and brought down more of the lightly armored fodder. The Ballista loosed yet another bolt, and it shattered yet another shield. The sorcerors prepared their offensive incantations behind the steadily crumbling shield wall.
The zealots had reached the walls of the checkpoint, but this brought no safety. Elia rained down bricks and stones on their helmetless heads while Blem pivoted to another murderhole that faced the gate. The zealots desperately hacked and bludgeoned the reinforced gate and windows while their numbers dwindled. The shield wall advanced a bit quicker now, another Ballista bolt dismantling another member. The sorcerors turned their focus to the siege weapon and fired off their spells with a snap of their fingers. The tower Pleck was in ignited as fire and lightning ripped it apart.
Blem wanted to cry out, to check if his friend was okay. But he couldn't with the zealots bearing down on them. The shield wall broke as the guards rushed in to aid the ailing zealots. When the windows gave in, anyone foolish enough to crawl through was savaged by thorns as sharp as daggers. Bolin controlled his vines to pin and mangle, while he readied his mace to finish those too helpless to free themselves. Elia rained down bricks and scrap at a lightning pace. Even under all their armor the warriors struggled to shrug off material lobbed on their heads.
The Wizards prepared another incantation. Blem felt his blood boil. He switched his aim to the wizards. Their wards protected them, barely. The little goblin's volley was so intense the wizards opted to erect an ice wall than face the fury any longer. The zealots were depleted, Elia leapt from the walkway to join Bolin in taking care of the guards. The guards continued to hack away at the door, yet it felt like the battle was at an impasse.
The wizards refused to budge from their position, the guards couldn't make any meaningful headway. Bolin and Elia had already cleared those dumb enough to get ensnared in the window traps. Blem took the lull in combat as an opportunity to check on Pleck. He skittered along the walkway and heard the monotone thuds of axes eating into the wooden gate. Glancing over he could see the wizards taking nervous glances from cover.
"Pleck," Blem whispered to the pile of rubble. Nothing. "Pleck," he whispered louder. Still nothing. "Pleck!"
"...over here," came a muffled cry.
Blem ran over to the pile of bricks, "are you okay?"
"I've been better; now get this stuff off me!" Blem dug, and when his arms were free enough Pleck dug too. "What's going on out there?" Pleck asked.
"All the lightly armored guys are dead. The Wizards are hiding behind some kind of icy wall, and the armored soldiers keep trying to bust through the gate,"Blem replied.
"Did we lose anyone?"
"Well you, but you're alive so no."
"Pleck dusted himself off, "a no would have sufficed." The pair of goblins peered out from the ruined tower and saw the wizards slowly erected an icy escape tunnel.
"They're running away," Blem spoke.
"Not if we can help it, come on!" Before Blem could stop Pleck he jumped off the walkway.
"Damn!" Blem joined him. They tumbled to the ground. Pleck sprinted to the ice wall, while Blem struggled to regain his bearings. Blem could feel the danger in the air as a couple of the guards took notice. His adrenaline surged.
Pleck ran up to the ice wall and crashed through. How Pleck knew it would be thin enough was anyone's guess, but the wizards never counted on it. They fumbled, which only got worse when Blem joined the frey. The wizards, despite their magical prowess, were no match for the two goblinoid brawlers in their midst. It didn't matter what wards or spells they tried to fire off. Blem's daggers cut through magical barriers with ease, while Pleck's quick reflexes silenced those who couldn't keep up.
The guards who followed Blem tore down the now disintegrating ice barriers. They tried to engage the goblins and fell too. The few remaining guards faltered, and instead of risking death they ran past the duo, giving them a wide berth as they did so. Slowly the gate door opened, Elia and Bolin slowly filed out.
"Is it over?" Bolin asked.
Of course it was over, Blem thought. Bodies lined the cavern, blood pooled around the centre. Pleck began scavenging much to Bolin's disgust.
"Leave those corpses alone! Are you mad!" He shouted.
"No time for propriety, we gotta scavenge everything we can, otherwise we'll run low on supplies," Pleck countered.
"But this is immoral," Bolin pleaded.
"For a guy willing to kill people with thorny vines, you got a strange sense of morality," Pleck retorted.
"That was a matter of self-defence. This is a matter of pilfering the dead. It sullies us."
"No offence Bolin but we don't have time for this kind of moralizing," Elia injected.
"I don't want to dogpile you here, but they have a point. It's not like we know there's a lot of supplies down there, and given that we let the rest run away it won't be long before more of them show up," Blem's words seemed to stifle Bolin's anger.
Bolin turned away from the party and went towards the tunnel. "I pray this doesn't reflect poorly on us."
Blem rifled through a dead man's pockets as he weighed Bolin's words. "I hope so too," he mumbled.
Elsewhere in Redspear, that same time
"Interesting, very interesting." Skellin watched the battle unfold through the orb on the table. To his surprise it seemed that one of the goblins was the leader.
"That cult cell was destroyed milord!" The young acolyte spoke.
Skellin rolled his eyes, "I can see that. What I didn't see coming was how quickly they were taken care of."
"Should we act now?"
Skellin swirled the wine in his goblet and looked back to the orb. "Tell the other cells in the area they are free to intercept the intruders. Tell some of the Hell Paladins to stay on standby."
"Are we kicking off the rest of the plan too!" The scribe said a little too gleefully for Skellin's liking.
"No! It's too early for that. Just tell the other cells to intercept and get some of my Hell Paladin's on standby." The young acolyte ran off to deliver the message. Skellin kept a close eye on the antics of the party. While he felt certain that it wouldn't be necessary, there was something bothering him about this group's antics. "Hmm, no more fear nor hesitation. Maybe I should employ a few countermeasures..."
