Winds of Fate Read online

  Miurat wanted to say something, though he contented himself with shaking his head. It was obvious that the only way out was a quick trip to her last headstone.

  “There are only about half of us left, so here’s the new order.” Fitz looked us over. “I’m at the front, Flores is behind me, Hagen and Moris are behind her, and Miurat brings up the rear. If we have to fight, we make a circle around Flores. Questions?”

  “What do you think?” asked the mage girl dejectedly. “Is there any chance of us getting out of here alive?”

  “I’m not sure,” Fitz answered frankly. “We’ll see. We should be okay, though only the gods know what’s waiting for us. Okay, buff us like you did yesterday and let’s get started.”

  We walked out of the cave, and I looked back to see that nobody had appeared by the fire. Trina, it appeared, had made a serious mistake she’d be paying dearly for—both when she logged in and later. But that was her problem. I was more worried about how I was going to get out.

  The tunnels and branches were the same as the ones I’d gotten so tired of the day before. A feeling of hopelessness and despair seeped through my bones and muscles. There’s a lot you can get used to in this life, but what we were dealing with there was different. It would have been simpler to die than keep going. That’s not the worst idea, actually. A quick jab with my sword, and I would be free. Suddenly, I heard a voice whispering in my head. Exactly. Stop torturing yourself—death is quick, just like life.

  My hand crept down to the hilt of my sword, a movement Miurat caught immediately. “Hey, none of that,” he said as he knocked my palm away.

  “Fitz, we were trying to figure out who’d be the suicider, and it looks like our friend here drew the short straw.”

  “And here I thought it would be Flores!” boomed Fitz through his whiskers.

  “What are you talking about?” I stared at Miurat.

  “The mines always pick someone in the group to start thinking about killing himself,” he explained. “It’s more interesting that way, I guess, though the person always commits suicide sooner or later if you don’t stop them. I’m just glad you’re a swordsman, and I saw you go for your sword. It’s harder with thieves or mages since they can slip a dagger into their throat before you notice and can stop them.”

  “On the other hand, it sure does help everyone else when that happens,” noted Fitz. “For two hours afterward, you don’t have to worry about anything else happening. It’s like a sacrifice to the mines.”

  “Sure,” said Flores with exasperation. “Give them blood, and they’ll leave you alone.”

  “What can you do?” asked Miurat, shrugging ruefully. “Well, what do you think? Do you still want to kill yourself?”

  As they’d been talking, a second voice joined the one telling me to end it all and enter the land of the endless hunt. It was harsh and raspy, and it didn’t waste time before starting to yell at me. What the hell is this? Are you a warrior or not? Don’t give me any of this “easy death” stuff. The only way warriors die is on the field of battle at the blades of their enemies—and that’s it!

  Miurat looked at me.

  “No,” I mumbled. “The feeling passed.”

  The voices in my head had indeed disappeared along with the desire to put an end to myself. I certainly wasn’t about to say anything about the squabble that had just gone on in my mind, so I simply took my hand off my sword and looked at the Hound veterans in a way that assured them I was firmly planted on their side of the grave.

  “In that case, let’s keep going,” ordered Fitz. “We’re close to the Ninth Hall, and once we’re through it, we’ll be halfway there. Everything will be simpler after the Ninth Hall.”

  “What happens there?” I asked Miurat quietly.

  “You never know, just like everywhere else down here. Assuming you know that something will happen in the mines is the worst mistake you can make. As far as the Ninth Hall is concerned, I’ve been there twice. The first time, we got through it in ten minutes without coming across anything. Just silence, dust, and the usual twilight.”

  “And the second?”

  “I didn’t make it out the second time, and neither did half our group. A herd of ice devils attacked us out of nowhere when we got to the middle and slaughtered a good number of us. We didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Quiet,” said Fitz, hushing us. “We’re here.”

  We stood at the entrance to a gigantic room. All it took was what little we could see through the passageway to tell us how big it was.

  “Okay, we go like usual—quietly and trying to avoid being seen,” Fitz said. “Just remember, the worst of the mines always happens to whoever is noisiest and whoever decides not to follow orders.”

  He walked out of the passageway, battle ax at the ready. His head swiveled side to side, as he made sure there weren’t any clear or direct threats. A gesture with his chin let us know that it was time to follow him in.

  You unlocked In the Depths.

  To get it, enter 9 more large caves located in different Fayroll dungeons.

  Reward:

  Title: Veteran of the Darkness

  +2 to wisdom

  To see similar messages, go to the Action section of the attribute window.

  I was happy to get at least some sort of benefit from the mines, though the chances of me getting the action were slim to none. I’ll probably be staying away from holes in the ground for a while.

  The room really was enormous. The sickly mushroom light mixed with flairs of sunlight leaking in through cracks in the ceiling high above us. We were apparently inside one of the Rina Mountain peaks. The mix of lighting made for whimsical shadow play that I found enchanting. It was obvious that the dwarves had kept their tools away from that particular area, loath to spoil the room’s natural beauty.

  We made our way through the Ninth Hall without making a sound. I wasn’t sure what my companions felt, but I couldn’t help once again noticing my insignificance in the face of the grandeur around me.

  There wasn’t anyone else in the room, but Fitz’s constantly quickening pace told me he found the emptiness unnerving.

  The daylight was starting to fade as we approached the exit, giving way to the usual blue before disappearing altogether. The blue color, however, grew stronger until we could see some kind of ultraviolet light raging its way through the corridor.

  “What is—” I opened my mouth to ask the question, but Fitz, eyes bulging, yelled back at us in a voice no louder than a whisper (I had never realized such a thing was possible), “Into the corner! Everyone into the corner! Go!”

  “Didn’t you say…?” Moris was about to object when Fitz ignored him and sprinted away from the passageway into a corner of the room.

  I had no idea what was going on, but I figured I should follow suit if even Fitz, who wasn’t prone to being jumpy or panicking, decided it was time to run.

  Once in the corner, we found Fitz waving us over from his prone position behind a pile of trash. He motioned for us to get down next to him, which we did just in time.

  The blue glow coming from the corridor burst into the Ninth Hall accompanied by dwarf ghosts. They were no ordinary dwarves, however, and the difference wasn’t so much that they were taller and had shorter beards; it was their spectral faces. Even the faces of the burned dwarves I’d found so terrifying had retained some of their race’s former peacefulness. But the faces marching by me were twisted with hatred and anger toward all things living. They tramped by in a steady march, the column equipped with identical armor and battle axes resting on their shoulders.

  Row after row poured out of the passageway, their radiance illuminating the hall and instilling yet another wave of horror in us. Is there anything in the mines that doesn’t project fear like that? I missed the yetis we’d fought the day before; they, at least, were warm-blooded.

  The column of dark dwarves (Who else could they be?) finally finished filing out of the tunnel and wound its way into t
he heart of the Ninth Hall. Fitz peeked over the trash and watched them carefully, checking to make sure that they’d left without leaving any patrols behind.

  When the glow from the dark dwarves finally disappeared, Fitz got up and brushed himself off. “Aren’t you a bunch of lucky ducks? Most people have never seen them on parade, and here you got to see them your first time.”

  “On parade?” asked Moris in surprise.

  “Yes, that’s what it’s called,” explained Fitz. “Those were dark dwarf ghosts marching, the ones they burned and poisoned here. They’re still here, and they parade around like that with their weapons drawn—let them find you, and you’re dead. They’ll hunt you down if you try to run away, too. The worst, though, is that they’re the only ones in the mines—and maybe in all of Fayroll—who don’t kill players right away. They torture them first.”

  “Really?” I was having a hard time believing that. “But what about the game rules? And censorship?”

  “I don’t know; it’s just something I’ve heard from people who have been around the block a few times.” Fitz frowned. “I haven’t tested the theory out myself.” He spat over his shoulder.

  “I’ve heard that, too,” said Miurat, who joined the conversation. “They even say the dark dwarves here in the mines are waiting for the rebirth of the Dark Lord, and that they’ll be his personal guard when he takes his throne. That’s why they kill everyone they meet; they don’t want anyone to know where they are.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous,” Fitz said with a grunt. “Where is the Dark Lord going to come from? Just a bunch of nonsense. Okay, let’s get out of here. The way will be clear for another hour now that the dwarves have cleared it. Even the scum down here are afraid of them.”

  We headed toward the exit, brushing trash from the filthy floor off of us as we went. Next to me, Flores shook off her mantle.

  “I don’t even sweep at home, but here—”

  I was about to mention that having a mess at home is nothing to be proud of when a large, black shadow bounded across the hall and raked Flores with its claws. The latter dropped with a cry, and I grabbed my sword, only to hear Fitz roar back at us. “A cavewight, damn it! You’ve got to be kidding me! It was hiding from the dwarves the same as we were.”

  He whipped out his ax and tried to leap forward to sink it into the shadow, but he was too slow.

  At the same time, the rest of us were trying to catch it with our blades, but it dodged them all and leaped away down the hall in the direction the dark dwarves had gone.

  When we turned to look back for Flores, all that was left was a cocoon. Fitz picked it up. “I’ll give it to her, don’t worry. Okay, in pairs now, Moris with me, let’s go.”

  I turned toward Miurat, who was next to me, as we walked away. “What was that thing?”

  “The cavewight? Oh, they’re nasty all right—partially intelligent, incredibly strong and agile, and with incredible hearing and vision. There are only a handful of players that would even think about taking them on by themselves. Cavewights can always figure out which side is stronger in a fight. If Fitz weren’t here, believe me, that monster would have ripped into us and sent us all to an early grave.”

  “Wow,” I said, looking back over my shoulder. “Are there a lot of them?”

  “One, maybe two. This set of caves belong to that one, and they don’t share food or territory with each other. Thank God, there aren’t many of them. I just hope it’s not following us.”

  We kept moving forward, one foot after another, hour after hour, halls following passages. At one point, we had to climb over a cave-in that Fitz nervously said looked fresh.

  Nothing happened in the Tenth or Eleventh Halls, but just as we were about to enter the Twelfth Hall, which was the last in our journey, Fitz turned to us. “Well, everyone, we’re almost there. On the other side of the room is a tunnel, then one more tunnel, then a tiny little room, a small passageway, a turn, and we can breathe fresh air again. Moris, well done—you’ve impressed me down here. Hagen, I’ll be writing the same to your leader.”

  “Fitz, let’s not count our chickens before they hatch. That’s a bad omen,” said Miurat quickly.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be superstitious.” Fitz laughed gruffly. “Okay, let’s go.”

  We walked into the hall, which was pretty large, if nothing like the Ninth Hall. Our barely noticeable path took us straight down the middle as usual, and everything was so normal that I didn’t even notice what happened at first. Something white flashed, and Moris disappeared from my field of vision with a cry. A second later, we heard his yell receding into the distance.

  “Run!” roared Fitz, apparently no longer caring who or what might notice us. “Run for the tunnel! Ice devils!”

  Miurat shoved me forward as he took off headlong toward the exit, and I sprinted after him, looking back as I did. All I could see in the middle of the path was some kind of black hole that poor Moris had fallen—or been shoved—into, as well as something white that was far off but approaching quickly. I realized it was less “something” and more a heaving mass of ice devils. That did nothing for my hopes of getting out alive, though the idea of dying so close to the exit after surviving so much spurred me to run even faster. Getting hacked to pieces there, of all places, would have been more than frustrating; it would have been some kind of epic fail.

  Ice devils poured out of cracks in the walls and holes in the ceiling to merge with the crowd already hot on our heels and thirsty for our blood. The air was thick with their howls, the ground shook under the onslaught of their pounding feet.

  We flew into the tunnel.

  “Fitz, you jinxed us, you bastard!” shouted Miurat.

  I ran into Fitz—who had stopped—and yelled at him, “What are you waiting for?”

  “Run!” he ordered me briefly. “It’s true; I jinxed us. I can hold them for a minute or two while you make a break for it. Wait for me outside!”

  He took up a defensive position right outside the entrance to the hall. Miurat dragged me off through the tunnel before I could see what happened. “Go, go, go! There’s no time!”

  We had sprinted through that tunnel and almost all of the next before we again heard the hammering of their myriad feet.

  “Too late!” Miurat gasped. “Unbelievable. So close!”

  We dashed into a room that really was small; maybe twenty strides in diameter.

  “You go on alone!” barked Miurat, whipping out his blade. “You’re almost there—go! Go! I’ll meet you outside.”

  “I’ll wait there!” I yelled as I ran for the passageway.

  I’m not sure if Miurat heard me because the last passageway muffled all the sound traveling back and forth. A small passageway and a turn, I remembered Fitz saying a few minutes before. I made it through the passageway, rounded the corner, and saw soft evening light pouring through the exit in front of me. The sun must have been on its way down.

  But that’s when I was knocked off my feet and sent sprawling on the floor. I jumped up, spun around, and brandished my sword.

  A couple dozen of the abominable beasts were three steps away from me. They were covered in matted white fur, had twisted horns atop their heads (where they, presumably, got their name), and fangs that jutted out of their mouths. The narrow tunnel meant that only three of them could attack me at a time, but it was enough to keep me from making it out alive. There was no chance of me covering the remaining ground no matter how fast I ran. All that was left was for me to die a hero’s death in battle and ask Miurat to collect my cocoon afterward. Then I’d go take the pass with the smugglers if Fitz and Miurat had already left Kroytsen. Why didn’t I buy any potions? Me and my damn stinginess…

  The devil standing in front of the group roared and prepared to leap at me. I held up my sword and crouched behind my shield. Wait a second, what about that thing Wanderer gave me? What did he say? Break it if things are really bad, right? Things, to be fair, were about as bad as they ge
t.

  I ducked left, quickly flipped my shield over my shoulder, and dug my hand into my pocket to retrieve the glass figurine that had been there since Wanderer gave it to me. It broke just as the devil finally launched itself at me. I caught him with my sword, threw him to the side, met the second with another strike, slashed one more time, and found myself flung backward. The momentum flipped me around, leaving me on my stomach protected by the shield I still had on my back.

  I tensed, anticipating the strike from behind, but instead, I heard the crunching sound of axes biting into flesh.

  Turning around, I saw something I never would have thought possible. The ice devils were being hacked to pieces by the dark dwarves. Five of them blocked the passageway, aided by the fact that they were smaller than the devils, and deftly wielded single-handed battleaxes. Behind them, were another five ready to join the battle if need be, as well as some kind of commander further behind them. I blinked, thinking I might be seeing things. The worst of the creatures we’ve seen down here are fighting for me? The ice devils were just as perplexed as I was, judging by how they faltered and started to run off into the darkness.

  The dwarf commander turned and looked at me, gesturing with his hand for me to leave. He turned back to his troops.

  I decided not to test my luck and figured I could think things through out in the fresh air, so I sprinted toward the exit and found myself on a small stone platform. It was cut out of the mountain and ended in a narrow path leading downward.

  A large red sun greeted me as it set behind a cloud and lit the vast green expanses stretching out in front of me. The towers of a city were visible on the horizon.

  I made it! And I don’t care what all the employers in the world have to say about it—I’m never going back in with those ice devils.

  Sitting down on the platform, I gazed up at the sun and let my mind start to work. I had some things to think about before Miurat and Fitz got there.

  Chapter Five

  In which all the action takes place on the small stone platform.