Chapter 12 - Rescue Plan

  Robert glanced down at the snowy bloodstain atop the rock where the whistling man had been impaled by Brukk’s arrow. He shook his head as their group of five bunched up on the small opening in the mountainside where the dead man had emerged. Just beyond, a small cave, cut through grey rock, led deeper into the mountain, but Robert could not make out what lay beyond the first turns in the darkness.

  “If he was a villager, Robert, why was he wandering around freely?” Alice asked as she removed her big orc winter coat next to the tunnel’s icicle-covered entrance. Robert dropped his own thick coat into the snow beside hers and Oswin’s, as they would need to move freely now that they had reached the marauder base. The cold would have to be ignored, and the black fur coats would only slow them down, Robert thought.

  “I know, Alice,” Robert relented. “I would just like the consideration of quarter before we start executing every unarmed potential marauder we come across,” he said, glancing toward Brukk, who was lighting a simple wooden torch beside him.

  [The Hour Unspent: 20 days remain]

  “Enough dallying. Let us finish this trail, humans. Let us see what enemy we face today,” Brukk growled as he lifted the lit torch with his remaining hand.

  Wasting no more time, the group of five entered the icy cave system leading deeper into the mountainside. Brukk, holding his torch, led the way as he ducked low beneath the short overhangs of the rocky formations protruding downward from the cave’s ceiling. The sound of running water could be heard echoing around them from some unknown source flowing through the various crevices and cracks within the surrounding grey rock.

  Brukk held up the stump of his missing hand, signaling the party to stop behind him. He dropped the torch to the ground and snuffed it out with a bootless foot, unfazed by the heat of the fire. Up ahead Robert could make out another light source illuminating the narrow cave, along with the faint sound of voices echoing toward them.

  Robert gripped his staff tighter in his hands as his party continued onward toward the light and the unknown voices. After a short, quiet walk they came upon the tunnel’s exit. It led them to a small opening that opened into a colossal cavern embedded within the mountain’s rock, carved by millennia of melting ice and snow. Incredible, Robert thought with awe at its massive scope.

  Robert stepped toward the edge of the exit and squeezed by Brukk, who peered downward past a small ledge of carved rock that curled around the width of the cavern. The ledge connected to small holes in the wall similar to theirs, leading to different parts of the mountain’s innards. Or at least Robert assumed so.

  Far below them sprawled a small makeshift city with dozens of people moving about the large area lit by torches and campfires along the cavern floor. Tarp tents, crates, small pens of livestock, and scattered supplies covered the cavern in circular formations away from the center.

  Robert’s heart began to beat faster as he inspected the large pool of crystal-clear water marking the heart of the cavern. Above it was a wooden cage dangling high over the pool. A metal chain anchored to the top of the cage ran upward toward the cavern’s tall ceiling where, from what Robert could tell, some kind of pulley system had been embedded in the rock. Used to change the elevation of the cage perhaps, he thought.

  Within the cage, Robert could make out several human figures, their feet and arms dangling through the open slats of the makeshift prison.

  “Well, there are our villagers,” Varg grumbled as he peered over the edge beside Robert.

  “That is a lot of humans to kill,” Brukk growled in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Is killing everyone we meet really the best plan?” Robert replied. “They far outnumber us.”

  “What do you propose then, human?” Brukk asked as Oswin and Alice squeezed in beside them. All five of them peered slightly over the edge, inspecting the marauder base below.

  “Stealth perhaps? One of us can put on the dead man’s furs and try to make our way toward the captured villagers without being seen.”

  “Robert, anyone with the Sight can inspect us once out in the open. They would be able to tell we are not who we seem,” Alice said.

  “Perhaps, but how often are you identifying people you are around every day?” Robert asked. “Not often, I would assume.”

  Alice started to respond when a loud crash rang out to their left. All five of them snapped their heads toward the sound, finding an older gruff-looking man wearing grey furs. He had stepped out from a different tunnel along the spiraling ledge and had dropped a pot of what appeared to Robert to be potatoes.

  The man’s beady brown eyes widened as they all stared at one another. Then he screamed.

  “Intruders! They have an enchanter!” he shouted as he turned and bolted back through the cave tunnel he had emerged from.

  Robert heard cries rising from below as he looked down to see the marauders scrambling in every direction.

  “Enchanter! Run!” one of them yelled in panic.

  “Stop running, cowards, kill them all!” a different voice roared before an arrow zipped past Robert’s head.

  “So much for stealth, aye priest?” Varg laughed.

  “Robert, what’s the plan now?” Oswin asked in a panic.

  Robert was about to respond when a loud snap followed by screams rang out through the cavern. The chain holding the cage suspended above the pool of water below was now descending rapidly. Whatever held the pulley system stationary had been released by someone higher up in the cavern. Robert looked back over the edge in time to see the wooden cage crash into the icy water and begin to sink.

  “Cursed hell,” Robert said. “We have to get the cage out before they all drown. Varg, Brukk, descend as fast as you can. We’ll take the long way down.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Understood, human. All that stand in my way shall die a painful death,” Brukk replied before leaping over the steep ledge.

  “Yes!” Varg roared as he leapt down next after the orc.

  Robert peered over again and saw the two massive fighters leapfrogging down the steep descent of the cavern wall, catching their footing on protruding rocks and ledges as they made their way toward the cavern floor. Robert cast Holy Barrier as he watched, deflecting two more arrows that whizzed toward them.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Holy Barrier (Level 6)]

  “Let’s move,” Robert called out as he looked toward Oswin and Alice, and all three began sprinting downward around the circular ledge, Robert in the lead, as screams of pain erupted below.

  Distracted by the melee below, Robert awkwardly tripped mid-sprint on an uneven divot in the rock and tumbled, almost falling over the side of the ledge. Good job, Robert, he thought to himself, embarrassed as he pushed himself upright to stand. Down below, the wooden cage was sinking in the center of the pool on its side, the heavy chain that had once suspended it in the air now dragging it under like an anchor. The villagers screamed as their hands extended outward and they pressed their faces upward through the slats, drawing in whatever breath they could before the water swallowed them.

  Varg, where are you, he thought, scanning the chaotic floor of the cavern.

  The massive maul of the warrior appeared from under one of the tents as he swung it sideways in a wide arc toward two fleeing marauders. Both flew aside from the impact, their flailing bodies crashing into a stack of wooden barrels.

  “Look out, Robert!” Oswin cried as he helped him up from the floor. Up ahead, two marauders, a man and a woman, exited one of the small openings scattered along the cavern's ledge.

  The man carried a rusty greatsword and the woman held a metal chain in both hands. Before Robert could react, the chain wielder shot it outward like a whip. It snapped like lightning to Robert’s left and struck Oswin across the face. He screamed, drawing his hands to his injury and falling backward, crashing into the cave wall before tumbling forward over the ledge’s edge as Robert and Alice tried in vain to grab him.

  “Oswin!” Robert shouted after the enchanter as he tumbled aimlessly down the steep, rocky wall. Robert cast a Holy Shield, followed by rapid heals toward the falling man, as Oswin screamed with every jagged impact on his way to the cavern floor. As he focused on his heals, Robert sensed a fire arrow fly over him, its heat radiating through the cavern’s cold air.

  More screams, not Oswin’s this time, rang out to Robert’s left as he tried to cast another heal toward the unconscious enchanter who had crashed down onto a pig pen below, but to his dismay, his friend was no longer in range of his spells. Please don’t be dead, he thought as he turned and found one of the marauders staggering toward him with flailing arms, his furs on fire. The woman lay dead behind him, fully engulfed in orange flames.

  “Robert, watch out!” Alice called from behind him as she notched another arrow. Enough of this, he thought, anger rising after seeing his friend splayed out in the pig pen below. He gripped his staff like a club and swung it, striking the burning marauder across the head as the man collapsed over the edge.

  Finding no further resistance along the stone ledge, they continued their rapid descent. As they ran their endless circle around the great cavern, Robert watched the floor level, catching sight of Brukk leaping through the air, an elderly-looking man, no bigger than a child, was clinging to the orc’s back and trying to stab through the orc’s thick, grey skin with a small blade. The dagger did little to slow Brukk as he crashed down onto two other marauders attempting to flee through one of the many passageways carved into the cavern walls. It’s a massacre, he thought, feeling a tinge of pity for the outmatched marauders.

  Robert turned his focus back toward the pool, finding the villager’s cage was no longer visible. We are not going to make it, he thought grimly.

  “Varg! Brukk! The cage! Someone get to the cage!” Robert boomed, his voice echoing throughout the cavern.

  Varg answered Robert’s call and leapt high through the air, arcing into a dive toward the icy pool as Robert and Alice continued their race downward. They finally reached the bottom, where they lost sight of the center pool and the villagers’ fate. They are in Varg’s hands now, he thought as he looked around the battered makeshift town.

  Bodies and debris lay scattered everywhere and the tents set up around the natural rock formations blocked their ground-level view of the cavern beyond. Robert jumped down off the ledge as two marauders emerged from behind a tent and bolted past them, screaming in panic, before disappearing into the void of one of the cave tunnels. He exchanged a look with Alice amid the chaos as Brukk’s roars echoed from somewhere in the distance.

  “Let’s go, Robert!” Alice called as she picked up an abandoned sword from the ground. They raced toward the closest tent in the direction of the center pool, and with a single swing Alice sliced a doorway open for them to slip through. They passed into a simple living quarter containing only a single cot and a floor carpeted with thick hides.

  Pushing through the exit flap, they moved on to the next line of tents, jumping over several bloodied men, some still moving. Robert considered casting a heal on the wounded but came to his senses as they climbed a small formation of rock toward the next row of tents.

  “Here, Robert,” Alice called as she slipped between the gap of two large brown tents. They emerged on the other side where the crystal-blue pool of melted snow water formed a perfect ring at the center of the cavern. The cage, which had disappeared beneath the water, was now slowly emerging toward them from the edge of the pool. The villagers, once clawing and screaming through the top slats, appeared motionless now, the draining water receding around their unmoving forms.

  No… Robert thought as he sprinted forward, running into the icy cold water just as Varg slowly surfaced, carrying the massive structure across his back. With a loud grunt he tossed it forward, and it crashed with a splash in front of Robert.

  Without hesitation Robert cast a Party Heal. Please do not let me be too late, he thought as despair began to grip him.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Party Heal (Level 7)]

  Four of the five villagers sprang to life as they began coughing the icy water from their lungs in a panic. Robert felt the warmth of his heal pushing back the cold of the frigid water and the lingering chill of their travels through the snowy landscape.

  [Trail Update: 4 of 5 Villagers Remain]

  “Dammit, priest, where are the heals?” Varg grumbled as his boots sloshed out of the water toward the great maul he had dropped near the pool’s edge.

  “My heals cannot resurrect the dead, Varg,” Robert replied as he ended the spell. Half mana, he thought. Time to start conserving, as the surviving villagers began to regain their senses.

  “Get us out, please!” an older man in his fifties shouted, wearing nothing but linen pants.

  “Oh god, Jonas is dead!” another cried.

  “Everyone calm down,” Robert pleaded. “Alice, Varg, help me get them out before more marauders arrive,” he said as he searched the crude cage for some kind of locking mechanism.

  “I’ll handle it, priest,” Varg called out behind him, wielding the giant maul perched on one shoulder. Robert stepped back as the villagers went quiet at the sight of the towering warrior. They huddled toward the back of the cage, anticipating Varg’s strike, when a familiar, old, raspy voice sneered from Robert’s left.

  “You!”

  Robert turned toward the voice and muttered in disgust, “Cursed hell.”