ESKER V
The first and second waves of Jotman that entered the tunnels were quickly dispatched. The surface dwellers were unaccustomed to fighting in the cramped quarters of a cavern and their eyes were ill suited for the dark. Esker and her squad were tasked with helping to strip the armor and weapons off of the corpses, it was grisly work. The Tengu military taunted the invaders by leaving the armaments of their felled foes in neatly arranged piles. In this case, the center of an expansive cavern was chosen to house this macabre display. Esker and her squad’s primary assignment was setting fire balm charges at the entrance and exit to the cave.
“As we practiced Gabbro, gently,” Esker instructed, trying to keep the anxiety from her voice. Gabbro cradled the magma melter in both of his hands and installed it into the rocky niche. “Well done, step back and allow me to prepare the fuse.” The most dangerous part of handling these volatile weapons was in carrying them and placing them: she felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. Much could go wrong with the fuse, but only once it was lit.
Part of Esker’s trepidation was being assigned to an active mission, instead of a practice exercise. The task was ambitious, to rig a series of devices to detonate simultaneously. Stibnite had been excited by the prospect and Spar promised that his fuses would synchronize. Esker lacked their enthusiasm; she was not eager to hurt anyone, even a Jotman, no matter how poorly she had been treated in their captivity. She was even less interested in being blown apart by a mishap.
Esker put her hand on Gabbro’s shoulder, despite how unlikely he was to vocalize. Perhaps it was for her own comfort. They crouched on an outcrop above the narrow entrance to the cavern. Generally, she could smell the smoke of the Jotman’s torches before she could see or hear any approaching warriors. This time was different. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, she felt a profoundly wrong presence. She had experienced this twice before: from the mist demons in Lady Galdr’s bog and the undead in the depths of the dragon’s dungeon. What she sensed was the unmistakable taint of not only of magic, but magic that drew from dark sources. It sent a shiver down her spine.
Esker cycled through a series of hand signals to warn Spar of the unexpected danger they now faced. He and Stibnite were perched on the opposite side of the cavern, on top of the same outcrop that wound around the chamber, near the rocky ceiling. When Spar confirmed Esker’s frantic signal, Stibnite angrily tried to overrule the decision not to engage. Esker was grateful to see the light of their fungal torch vanish as it was covered and did the same with her own. The fire balm explosives were primed at both exits to this chamber, yet there was no opportunity for Esker’s squad to escape without revealing their position. Before she could calm her nerves, the Jotman forces arrived.
The armored soldiers stalked forward with an air of danger. There was a calm and relaxed nature to their movement that was deeply unnerving. At the center of their formation was a figure that caused Esker to do a double-take: she wore the priestly raiments that were identical to Liadan’s. The lack of torches confused her, until she noticed another distressing sight: the eyes of all of the Jotman and the nun glowed a burgundy red. Several dozen soldiers fanned out towards the edges of the cavern, flanking the pile of bloody armor at the center. They had no difficulty navigating the dark.
A cluster of four Jotman guarded the nun. Unlike the other soldiers in ringed mail carrying spears, these champions were adorned in heavier armor and wielded fearsome weapons. One held a long polearm with a broad axe blade, one had a long double-edged sword, another wielded brutal looking mace, and the last cradled an unfamiliar contraption in both arms. The front of the device had a curved bow-like arc, but it was horizontal and an arrow rested in front of the taut line. The Jotman fortified their position and waited, refusing to venture further into the cavern.
After a long and tense delay, there was a commotion at the other end of the cave. False cave walls burst open to reveal a regiment of two-score Tengu soldiers. The first Tengu soldier to step out from the ambush position, overconfident from prior skirmishes, was caught by a projectile launched from the Jotman’s bow-like device. The bolt fired with immense force and punched through the chest armor of the Tengu, much to his and Esker’s surprise. He clawed weakly at the injury before slumping to the ground. The rest of his detachment poured into the cavern, primarily armed with close quarters Tengu weaponry: war picks, two-handed hammers, and elegant single-edged swords. The Tengu closed on the Jotman before the projectile device could be reloaded.
From Esker’s vantage point, their formation discipline was impressive, the soldiers moved in concert. The Jotman forces were equally organized. The spearmen at the front of their lines raised their shields to form a wall, two ranks deep, on either side of the pile of armor and weaponry at the center of the chamber. As the nearest knight reloaded his ranged weapon, the nun began to chant. Out of the remaining three of her honor guard, the Jotman with the battle-axe moved to the line of spearmen on the closest side of the chamber, while the knight with the sword moved to the far side. The last stayed close to the nun, brandishing his mace.
Esker could not understand the words that hissed from the nun’s mouth, but found the growing intensity and cadence alarming. Inky wisps coagulated around the nun, snaking through the air with menace. Esker desperately wanted to warn her people of this potential danger, yet could not risk exposing her position. She watched from afar as the two forces clashed and the disciplined battle lines erupted into chaos.
On the side closest to Esker, the Tengu were locked in combat with the spearmen. Their greater strength began to buckle and overwhelm the Jotman, whose spearheads grated ineffectually off of the superior armor of the Tengu warriors. Only one Tengu was brought down when several Jotman found weak points to pierce and another was wounded. Nearly a dozen of the invaders were dispatched and the center of their line broke wide open. Normally that would mark the swift conclusion to a battle, in this case it exposed the Tengu to the fury of the knight with the long handled battle-axe. His blade did not ricochet harmlessly off of the strong alloys of Tengu armor; it cleaved bloody arcs through the charging soldiers and severed limbs.
Esker’s fingers twitched, wanting to aid her compatriots, yet unsure of how she could. Gabbro stared at the unfolding carnage below without reaction. The ringing of steel and cries of fury crescendoed at the other side of the cavern as the two forces broke away from pitched melee to assess their losses. Many Tengu sprawled on the rocky surface, joined by even more Jotman. The knight with the sword rallied the spearmen and joined their line, pressing forward in a surge. Much like the other Jotman with the axe, this champion brought ruin to his foes. His skill with his blade was remarkable and his armor effectively protected him from any counterattacks.
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Another bolt tore through the air and punched through the neck guard of a Tengu soldier, leaving her gurgling and choking on blood. This battle was turning to favor the Jotman and the Tengu forces appeared unprepared for such an outcome. The nun opened her eyes and extended her hands as if offering a gift to the world. The inky wisps surrounding her burst forward, flowing past the Jotman and ripping into Tengu soldiers. Armor offered no protection against her malevolent magic and many Tengu fell, twitching briefly before stilling.
The few Tengu soldiers that remained, attempted a fighting retreat towards the rear exit of the cave, despite being outnumbered and overmatched. The Jotman warriors advanced steadily on both sides of the chamber, flanking their opponents with a pincer formation. Esker noticed movement in the distance and saw a brief flash of sparks. She could not hear the hissing of the fuses, yet felt a lump of stones sink in her stomach: the fire balm trap had been armed.
Stibnite was the first to emerge, clambering down the rocky walls below the overhang she had hidden in. Spar made a more reluctant entrance, gesticulating and seeming to beseech Stibnite; he was not heeded. He glanced forlornly towards Esker’s position and momentarily caught her eye, before racing to catch up with Stibnite. Whatever injuries Spar had sustained during his tenure as a cricket farmer did not hamper his climbing agility: he moved with relaxed grace. The Jotman forces were fixated on mopping up the remains of the Tengu soldiers: this distraction allowed both Stibnite and Spar to escape through the exit. Spar took one last look over his shoulder; Stibnite did not dally.
Esker knew that there was little time for Gabbro and her to seek safety, more distressing was how limited their options were. With the explosives primed, both sides of this cavern were soon to erupt into a fiery conflagration that would also collapse the roof of the chamber. The temperature within would quickly become that of a forge, immolating anyone who was not caught directly in the blast. There was no opportunity to escape across the cavern to join the rest of the squad and the only other exit was into the teeth of the Jotman invaders. Esker did not want to subject Gabbro or herself to their ministrations. If she disabled the fuse leading to the fire balm that she and Gabbro had set, their odds of survival increased, yet that was also true for this deadly array of Jotman warriors. Could Esker’s immediate needs supersede those of her people? Even if this war with the Jotman was misguided, could she risk the fate of her people for two lives?
As indecision tumbled like a rockslide within Esker’s mind, the Jotman below remained unaware of the imminent danger. After the last of Tengu soldiers were overwhelmed and cut down, the invaders performed a grisly ritual: severing the noses from the fallen and collecting these bloody trophies. Some of the Tengu who were being maimed were still alive, it was an traumatizing sight for Esker. Gabbro had turned his attention from the bloodshed and watched the sparking trail approach their position along the fuse. His face betrayed nothing of his thoughts on the matter.
Esker stood and immediately met the gaze of the red-eyed nun below. The nun pointed a bony hand at her and screamed shrill words. Inky wisps twisted and gyred in the air, then sped towards Gabbro and her. Esker took her squad member by the hand. “Stay with me,” she urged and moved as quickly as she could while crouching beneath the low ceiling.
Gabbro tugged her to a halt, as Esker turned to him in confusion, a metal bolt slammed into the rocky wall where she would have been.
“I owe you one,” she muttered in thanks before continuing to put distance between them and the explosives that they had set.
The fuse whistled past, leaving a trail of soot. There was little time left and few options. The Jotman warriors were unable to scale the rocky wall up to the outcrop in their armor, which left only the one with the projectile device and the nun as dangers. The latter was increasingly becoming a major concern: the void-like tendrils zigzagged closer and closer. The direct effect of the nun’s magic were hard to determine and Esker had no interest in providing a first hand testimony.
She released Gabbro’s hand and drew a fist-sized rock out of the wall of the cavern. She hefted it with all her might at the nun, while simultaneously placing her hand back on the wall to channel her stone sense. As Esker predicted, the nun’s face twisted in fury at the thrown rock and one of the inky wisps moved to intercept, obliterating it into fragments. As the nun was distracted by a direct threat, Esker rained several more fist-sized rocks from the roof of the cavern directly above her. The nun did not have enough time to react. When a chunk of stone cracked into the top of her skull, she collapsed to the ground in a puddle of her robes. The inky wisps vanished.
Esker retook Gabbro’s hand and scurried along the rocky outcrop to the middle of the cavern. Nearly two dozen Jotman stood between them and the only exit to safety. There was no time and no way to break past their lines. Sacrifice and putting the needs of the many ahead of selfish desires were core tenets of Tengu society and generally Esker would have found honor in such an end. Given her recent treatment and forced conscription, she was no longer sure what place she had in such a civilization. Besides, she needed to reunite with her friends and guide them back to the surface.
As the last bit of fuse disappeared into the nook where Gabbro and Esker had primed their explosive payload, she dropped to her knees and drew her squad member down next to her. The cavern was about to erupt into fiery mayhem, yet perhaps there was an opportunity for the two of them to be elsewhere. Locked in deep focus, Esker drew a cocoon of stone up around their huddled forms, enclosing them in a shell a handspan thick. Despite the total darkness, she could sense the now pliable rock surrounding them and discern from the gaps of that otherworldly sight where Gabbro and she knelt. A significant amount of fire balm had been placed in this chamber, Esker was under no illusion that such makeshift shelter would save them. She reached towards the wall, asking it to open a small tunnel. The stone complied.
“Quickly, hold onto my foot and follow,” Esker said as she guided Gabbro’s hand to her left ankle. She dove into the small tunnel, trying to put as much distance between them and the fire balm as possible. Gabbro obediently followed. The whole world shook violently. Esker sealed the opening of the tunnel before the shell of rock separating them from incineration could shatter. They crawled deeper. The bone rattling tremors continued. She continued to beseech the stone to create a continuous downward path that arced towards where Stibnite and Spar had fled. The physical drain of the geomancy taxed Esker to the point of exhaustion. She could not go on. Panting as sweat drenched her brow, Esker lay down and let her muscles go limp. She did not lose consciousness.
Gabbro bumped into her from behind, then climbed off of her legs and backed up. “We are even,” he said as he patted her leg affectionately.
