Bittersweet Refrain

The rumbling was felt throughout the warren. Young and old alike scrambled in search of tunnels and rooms that were known to withstand all but the most forceful of quakes. Being dwarves this was a gift they all shared. As the minor tremor died down a feint whisper began to echo along the stone walls. As the strange sound seeped into the hearth-fires it grew. When the fires of the great forge were touched by the unearthly murmur a shriek unlike any had ever heard. Freakish voices screamed in a rage no mortal could comprehend. Veteran warriors dropped to their knees craddling their ears in weak protection. Tears streamed down faces chiseled in battle. The youngest were paralyzed, striken with a fear so great that it could scar them for life. Three of the oldest fell dead, their heart's unable to take the strain of unknown horror. The elder smith Kardun Hammer-Hand was made blind and deaf all at once when his forge erupted in front of him.

Three forms burst from the fire, ash and coals. Only slightly larger than a man-child, their spectral flesh burned with a hatred that seered the core of all living things they flew past. The invaders knew the corridors well. Every corner they turned, each step they danced up took them closer to the exit. When the light of the setting sun was glimpsed by the the fiery trio they let go another of their damning shrieks, striking down all the guards that stood before them.

When wits began to return to the dwarves that still possessed sanity, a call went out for Lord Bolin. When a dozen minutes had passed by and no response from the dwarf elder alarms were sounded. A message had to be sent to the human keep. The silver raven took flight with magical ease, the warden hoped it would reach them in time. As the almost-bird flew away on its asigned task the temporary leader of the tunnels noticed the charred remnants of a stone hand near the entrance. Gazing at the dark omen he began to wonder just how temporary his position might be.

It was a beautiful sunset. The steep hillside had been chosen as a makeshift lounge by the small gnome mayor. His muscular, if very compact, physique and curly brown hair stood out well against the soft green grass he had chosen to stretch out on. Beside him the honey-sweet voice of Kyliki was slowly winning him over in a particularly fierce debate about what a passing cloud most looked like. Her feminine curves and long locks had made more than a few human heads turn, and many of the gnomes back in town openly envied the time that the lord-mayor spent with near-perfect performer. These were the times Glim thought that he could truly grow to love. A beautiful woman, grass tickling his neck, a picnic basket stored nearby, and a play in town this evening. His own private paradise.

Above them the wind shifted for a moment giving the young gnome a full moment's warning that fire was coming. Fast.

Flexing his muscles as he mentally readied himself for the unknown Glim became aware of everything around him. Kyliki felt the subtle change in her companion and began to sing a quiet little diddy that strengthened will and resolve. Dancing over the hilltop the three specters saw their quary and ignited ever hotter fiery barbs. Fueled with the hatred of a thousand damned souls the unholy forms stormed toward the gnomes. When their shrieks met the lady's song the fire was forced back. A second charge, followed by a third, fourth, and fifth; yet the forms could not pierce the protective shell created by the soft song. As the last of the sun's rays fell beneath the horizon the three unknown demons howled one last time in vain as they vanished in a haze of smoke and ash.

Slowly relaxing their guard, the gnomes began trying to puzzle out what had just happened to them. With the sky looking empty Glim took the hand of his lovely protector and started back toward town. Kyliki was too drained to notice the unnatural silence at first, and Glim to worried about her to focus on his own woodlands. With a groan of pain the earthen floor beneath their feet opened. Glim was able to cling to a few brambles and vines and pull himself free. But the young woman was wrenched from his grasp and pulled into the unnatural pit beneath them. When Glim grabbed for her the vines held him fast, pulling him farther away from the lady he had grown to love. Yelling in anger did no good, soon his feet were dangling a full foot off the ground, thorns biting deep into his skin. Letting slip another baritone groan, the forest floor closed back up, leaving only the wounded gnome hanging in the branches overhead. He needed the Four Points.

Savannah was at a loss. Her red hair tied pulled tight, greatsword in her hand, a prayer to Kord begging to be released. She was ready for battle. There was no enemy though. The Druid Valeran had just left, the aging baron had no patience for her this day; not that he ever did anymore. There was a level of hatred from him that she couldn't stand, and could do nothing about.

Sparring helped.

Should have helped.

Squaring off against her trusted second, a veteran warrior named Haig, the Lady of Alderweg had some aggression to work out. The match became intense, each focused solely on their opponent. When the breeze first began to stir neither of them knew, but when it became noticable it was already too late.

Savannah parried aside bits of parchment and cloth, dust was beating up all about the room. Too much dust. With a choked spasm Haig went limp, Savannah made an attempt to reach him but a blast of dust hit her with such force that she was flung into the wall. The unseen forced matched her own amazing strength, holding her fast. She watched helplessly as Haig was flung out window.

Summoning up her own divine might, Savannah forced herself free from the wall and readied herself. As twin funnels of smoke closed in at her, she uttered a quick prayer to her god. A wall of razors sprang into existence cutting down all the unseen enemies closing in on her. As each of the demons were cut down and fell half-formed to the stone floorthey briefly took on the appearance of close friends she had seen die.

After a full minute she dropped the whirling blades and sent word for the watch captain. Calling out for her armor and real weapons she was keyed up, but even that did not prepare her for what happened next. With a thundrous roar all the firepits and hearths of Alderweg keep coughed up molten rock and sulfur, a heat and stench so great that all within had to be sent fleeing into the hillside until sunrise.

Savannah didn't wait till sunrise though. She needed the rest of the Four Points, and she needed them now.

A small golden-haired boy walked into a humble stone room. It was the picture of tranquility within. "Dada?" he asked softly. There was no answer. With creeping fear he asked again, "Dada?" Still only silence. Tears began to stream down his rosy cheeks, but the child didn't fully know why. Looking about the empty room he took another step through the scattered light offered by the open window. Had the child more years, had he known the dangers of the world beyond his home, he might have turned and fled.

Had the archer chosen to release the bowstring a heartbeat sooner the child's first tear would never have fallen to the floor.