Path of Dragons-Chapter 31Book 8: : Deeper

Miguel knelt near the site of the cave-in, his senses locked on his surroundings. The monster he’d encountered there had long since moved on, allowing a close inspection of the path to the surface. However, there were two immediate problems. The first was that Miguel was the only one willing to get close enough to give it a good look, which meant that he was entirely alone. A couple of other scouts were a few hundred yards up the tunnel, but that was too far away to help if something happened.

But despite the tendril of fear wrapping around his heart, Miguel was far more concerned with the other issue – that the tunnel was entirely blocked. He’d shifted a few rocks out of the way, but that only revealed more of the same. If they wanted to go back the way they’d come, it would require a monumental effort. More likely, if they started digging, the cave would collapse even further, burying them under tons of rock.

The result was that they needed to find another way out. Even with the rock-monster having vacated the area, going back the way they’d come was impossible. So, with a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and sheathed his sword before setting off down the slightly declining path.

When he reached the other scouts, they took off at an easy pace, intent on reaching the intersection where the others had set up camp. It didn’t take long – just ten minutes or so – but in that time, they covered almost two miles. They also descended a good distance, even if it was difficult to tell just how deep they’d gone.

Upon arrival, Miguel immediately went to Colt and explained the situation to the Samurai. He ended it by saying, “If we want to get back to the surface, we’re going to need to find another way.”

“Dammit,” Colt spat, one hand on his sword. After looking around for a moment, he growled again. “Goddammit. This ain’t gonna go over well, I can tell you that right now.”

Miguel followed his mentor’s gaze, taking in the state of the camp. It was still well-organized, and on the surface, everyone there seemed to be taking the situation well enough. However, it only took a few moments’ worth of study to recognize that something was off. And what was worse was that Miguel knew exactly what was wrong.

The fact of the matter was that being underground was not a natural thing for most people. Humans had it the worst, but gnomes and goblins were affected as well. Nobody was out-and-out claustrophobic, but becoming accustomed to long stretches spent underground with thousands of tons of rock above your head was a difficult thing. Only the dwarves seemed mostly okay, but even a few of them looked nervous.

“Do you think it’s going to be a problem?” asked Miguel.

Colt shrugged, then removed his hat before scratching his head with his metal hand. “No way to know for sure. The way I see it, some people don’t know they have a fear until they’re forced to confront it,” he said. “Had a friend once like that. Couldn’t handle bein’ underwater, you see? But he didn’t know it. Not ‘til after he went through the scuba divin’ course and got under the ocean. Had a panic attack right then and there. Almost died when he ripped his respirator out. Would have, weren’t for his wife. I reckon this’ll be like that. It’s easy to take it if you know there’s an easy way out, but when the way back is blocked, things get real complicated.” He focused on Miguel. “How ‘bout you? Feelin’ nervous?”

“Of course I am. I don’t like it down here. But I’ll keep it under control,” Miguel answered.

“Good man,” Colt said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hopefully, th’others’ll take a similar mindset. I’ll go let Katis know the situation.”

With that, Colt left Miguel in the center of the camp and headed to the tent they’d erected as their headquarters. For a moment, Miguel didn’t know what to do, but he quickly homed in on Isaak, who was the closest thing to a friend he had among the others.

The young man was sitting with his back against one of the walls, a small book open in his lap. The scratch of pen on paper greeted Miguel as he sat next to the Sorcerer. He briefly got a glimpse of what Isaak was working on before the other young man slammed the notebook shut and tucked it away.

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“What’s going on? Who was that?” Miguel asked, reaching for the book.

Isaak pulled it out of reach, saying, “Nobody. It’s nothing. What did you find?”

“That was a girl.”

“I…uh…yeah? Okay. I like to draw.”

“She looked like an elf,” Miguel stated.

“Whatever. What do you want? Did you find a way back to the surface?” Isaak asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

But Miguel wasn’t going to let him. “You first. Then I’ll tell you what I found.”

Isaak sighed. “Fine. But it’s not a big deal, okay? I just like to draw.”

“You said that already. Let me see.”

Isaak handed the notebook over. Miguel flipped through the first couple of pages, finding that it was filled with descriptions and drawings of various monsters and people. That wasn’t so out-of-the-ordinary, so he didn’t pay those much attention. Not until he reached the last drawing, which depicted the dark elf he’d recently saved.

“This is good,” he said, and he meant it. Not that the depiction was perfect – some of the proportions were off, and the ears were far too large. But it was definitely good. “You should have taken the Artist class.”

“I’d be dead if I had. Not much survivability for the Entertainer archetype. Not in the beginning, at least,” Isaak stated. “Besides, just because I like to draw doesn’t mean I’m an Artist.”

“Can’t help but notice you put a lot of effort into that sketch.”

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Isaak shrugged. “I guess.”

Miguel glanced at the other young man, noticing his fidgety mannerisms, and decided not to push the subject. It was clear that Isaak had developed something of a crush on the elf, which probably shouldn’t have been surprising. By Earth standards, she was extraordinarily beautiful, even if Miguel thought she looked a little too alien. Regardless, he preferred Hope.

“Were you there when they interrogated her?”

“It was more of an interview than an interrogation,” Isaak stated. “She wasn’t trying to hide anything. In fact, she begged Katis to take her to the surface. She said she didn’t care if they threw her in a cell, just so long as she wasn’t underground anymore.”

“Damn. What is she running from?”

“Trolls.”

“There’s more of them?”

“Yeah. And according to her, they’re not wild like the one we killed. She says the elder race has come back to conquer this world and regain the prominence they once lost,” Isaak explained. “Katis thinks it’s nonsense, said it smacks of a tall tale. But something scared Ektara. That’s for sure.”

“Ektara?” asked Miguel, using context clues to establish that he was talking about the elven prisoner. “You’re on a first-name basis now?”

“Shut up.”

Miguel just grinned at the other young man’s discomfort, but before he could tease Isaak further, a commotion broke out on the other side of the camp. The scouts, it seemed, had finally returned – and one of them was in bad shape.

Everyone in camp rushed to help the battered gnome, but Rasana waved them away. “No time,” she said. “We need to move.”

“What is it?” demanded Colt as he ducked out of the tent.

“Trolls. Real ones, like that dark elf described. They’re coming this way, and fast. I outpaced them, but they’ll be here in a few hours. We need to be gone by then,” the blue-haired gnome explained. Miguel noticed that she was supporting one of her arms with the other hand – probably due to a dislocated shoulder or broken collarbone – and she sported multiple contusions on her face.

“You heard ‘er,” Katis announced. “Break camp. Scouts, get ready to obscure our scent. Move it double-time!”

The soldiers all broke into motion. For his part, Miguel raced back to his own tent – which he’d only just erected a couple of hours before – and started breaking it down. In the meantime, he kept his eyes on the tunnel from which Rasana had come. She was the best scout of the entire group – and probably in Ironshore – but she wasn’t known for her speed. If those trolls were really chasing her, then –

He heard them coming before they arrived. Not footsteps, like he might have expected, but rather, like a staccato drumbeat. Miguel abandoned his preparations for departure, racing toward that branch of the intersection. He wasn’t the only one, either. Colt had heard it too, and he’d brough ten other fighters with him.

“It doesn’t sound like trolls,” one of the soldiers mumbled.

“You don’t know what trolls sound like,” another pointed out.

“I smell something weird.”

“Shut up and be ready!” snapped Colt. Then, his eyes widened. Without any further explanation, he turned and shouted, “Healer!”

Just then, one of the fighters fell to her knees, clutching at her throat as her face turned blue. Someone coughed, hacking up phlegm, and even Miguel felt a little woozy – like he’d been running for too long and couldn’t quite catch his breath.

“What is it?” he asked, already embracing Recover. It wouldn’t last long, and the increase to his Regeneration wasn’t as impactful as it once was. But it was better than nothing. Thankfully, it made the difference he needed to keep himself from asphyxiating.

Colt shouted for the others to mimic that strategy, but Miguel had no chance to ascertain whether or not they had followed the Samurai’s orders. Because even as the words left Colt’s mouth, their enemy showed themselves.

But they weren’t trolls.

Instead, it was a troop of mushroom creatures, each about four or five feet tall with wide caps in a variety of colors. They shrieked as one and descended upon the uneven line of defenders. Miguel met the first with the Blade of the Green Warden, lashing out and slicing a chunk of its cap free. Either the thing couldn’t feel pain or it was too worked up to care about losing a chunk of its flesh, but it barely even reacted to the attack. Instead, it barreled into Miguel, knocking him back a couple of feet before he managed to regain his balance.

The thing could have pressed the attack, but it seemed entirely disinterested in doing so. Instead, it hopped forward, trampling anything in its way – including tents and any people who happened to stand in its path.

Miguel snapped out another attack, and this one hit the thing’s rubbery trunk. The attack bit deep, only losing its momentum when it stalled about halfway through. But that was enough, and the fungoid creature toppled over. There it lay, quivering as it attempted to inch forward.

Then, as he tried to figure out what else to do, Miguel felt something hit him in the back. This time, he couldn’t keep his feet, and the impact sent him sprawling onto his stomach. Something else hit him an instant later. Then another impact drove the breath from his lungs.

And another after that.

He managed to keep his wits about him as he felt one blow after another land. To counter it, he curled into a ball, cradling his head to protect it from any potential concussions.

It went on for what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute. And when it was finished, Miguel knew he’d broken multiple bones and probably sustained a couple of internal injuries that would resist any healing.

He looked up to see the retreating forms of hundreds of mushroom creatures. Most were about the same size as the one he’d downed, but some were at least as tall as a house. So, it was no wonder he’d been so injured.

One look around told him that he’d gotten off light – either because of his attributes or just luck, he wasn’t certain. But scattered across the intersection was the aftermath of the stampede. Broken bodies lay were everywhere, many of which were unmoving. Miguel forced himself to his feet and staggered toward the closest.

Dead.

The second was merely unconscious, so he dragged him to the edge of the cavern. With the third, he couldn’t tell – probably because of his own state – so he dragged her as well. By that point, a few others had risen and had begun to contribute.

Over the next few minutes, Miguel and a few of the more powerful members of the group separated the dead from the wounded. Fortunately, Lala was among the survivors, and after a few minutes of recovery, she was up and Healing as much as she could. Without her efforts, more would have died.

“What was that?” Miguel asked when everyone was settled.

“We call them mycomen,” said the elf, who’d survived, though with a broken arm. “Nuisances, mostly. But when they stampede, they’re deadly.”

“What were they running from?”

“I think you know the answer. There are trolls down there. Not sure how far, but they are coming. Spreading. They don’t like the surface, but they’ll spill out eventually. We’re all dead. We just don’t know it yet,” the elf breathed, clutching her arm to her side. “Once they get a taste for humans, there will be no stopping them.”

Katis narrowed her eyes, but she didn’t immediately respond. Colt had no such reservations, and he said, “You know these tunnels, right? How do we escape?”

“No escape. Just delay.”

With that, the elf passed out. She wasn’t among the top priorities for Lala to heal, and she’d finally succumbed to her wounds. She would survive, but it would probably some time before she regained consciousness.

“What do we do?” asked Isaak.

“When animals are running, the best thing is to follow them. They usually know where they’re going,” Miguel stated.

“It don’t matter. There’s only one way to go now,” Colt said, pointing the way the mushroom creatures had gone. “Don’t have much choice. Way I see it, we gotta go deeper.”

No one gave voice to any other options, so it wasn’t long before they’d gathered their wounded, stripped the dead of anything valuable, and set out down the connected tunnel. All the while, Miguel kept looking back, convinced he’d see something big, lanky, and hairy charging through the darkness.