Page 80 of Blood Fist

Ridan seemed to have no such compunction. He hopped up, scurrying up the wall as if it was nothing more than climbing a ladder.

Following a little slower, Brune found a decent sized crevice to slip the toe of his boot into before hoisting himself up after the limber blonde.

It only took a few minutes for Brune to realize that he was not designed for climbing. His arms were shaking, fingers numb, and back tense. He refused to look down, but for every inch he gained, he felt as if someone dropped a weight onto his back. Occasionally he would look up, try to see where Ridan was climbing, but from his angle, it was almost impossible to see where his hands were.

The higher they climbed, the fiercer the wind became. It whipped through the ravine, kicking up dirt and sand that stung his skin and eyes. Sweat dripped down his face, and worse, his hands. Even with the dust on the rock, his fingers felt slippery as he clung to the vertical face.

Just as his arms were about to give out, he felt a tug from above. Panicking, he pressed close to the wall, only to look up and see Ridan. He had climbed over the edge and was leaning down, pulling at the shield on his back.

Flopping down over the lip of the cave, Brune heaved in dusty breaths. Every muscle ached. He didn’t even have the energy to look up and around until Ridantoed at his side. With a grunt, he heaved himself up to his knees.

The cave opening wasn’t particularly large, but it looked deep. Sunlight only illuminated the first few stalactites before the darkness became too impenetrable to see. Staggering to his feet, Brune pulled the feather out of its pouch. Before he’d even opened the pouch fully, the feather zoomed out, catching the end of the lead and flipping itself over in midair. More frantically than before, it pulled toward the back of the cave.

“Seems like we’ve got the right place,” he whispered as Ridan pulled his sword free, twisting it in his hand. Even with the singes from Schok’s magic, the edges still looked lethal. Following his lead, Brune tied the feathers lead around one wrist and withdrew his hammer with the other. It felt just as good in his hand as it had at the festival.

Letting the natural curve of the cave wall guide them, they started forward. Farther into the cave, he picked up a musty smell. It was worse than just damp cave. Even worse than the barracks in mid-summer. Wrinkling his nose, he glanced over at Ridan, who was blinking to let his eyes adjust to the dark.

Tiny cracks in the ceiling let in shafts of light, just enough that they could move without tripping over anything.

Rounding a particularly vicious stalagmite, they were surprised to find a large room. Illuminated by a large skylight chiseled out of the roof, the room looked to be as big as three or four tents pitched together. Smoother than the preceding walls, these looked as if someone had meticulously carved them into a perfect curve. A dark opening at the back served as a second entrance, just outside of the ring of light spilling into the center of the room.

None of this held Brune’s attention. He was busy searching for the reason for the stench. There didn’t appear to be any water that could account for the musty smell, and for a reason he couldn’t quite articulate, the hair on the back of his neck rose.

Ridan seemed to feel the same, raising his sword as he glanced around. Skirting the edge of the ring of light, he traveled deeper into the cavern.

The clinking of steel on steel had them both swinging to face the noise. Pressed against the far wall was a pile of bones. Eerily white, they were picked clean. Legs, arms, and ribs were tossed aside. The feather tugged at Brune, not towards the bones but the wall directly to its left where the light didn’t touch.

While Ridan examined the bones, Brune tried to control his breathing as he watched the dark shadow. In his concentration, he tripped over something that made a metallic thunk.

A large chain was coiled on the ground. The size of his fist, it looped around itself before trailing back toward the wall. Following the chain with his eyes, it led to the middle of the darkness. He stared, hoping to make out whatever was there.

The chain shifted again. The metallic clink was softer this time. A figure materialized. Hunched over, it looked odd. Bumpy and misshapen, with shadows darkening around its every move.

As if sensing his examination, the figure stopped moving. A set of bright yellow eyes popped open.

Brune gasped just as the scent increased. It was so thick he felt like he had stuck his head in a Snap Jaw nest. Gagging, he brought the back of his hand up to his nose.

Those bright eyes blinked once before they shifted, looking towards the back of the cavern.

Just as Brune turned, he heard Ridan shout.

He had his shield on his arm before he could make sense of the situation. Spinning on his heel, he lifted the shield just as a slab of granite splintered against its ruby face. Groaning under the impact, he lowered the shield to take stock of the situation.

Two massive humanoid looking creatures were slipping through the back entrance. They lumbered slowly, limbs contorted and stiff. Half a head taller than Brune, and broad as he and Henroen put together, it was no surprise at how slowly they moved.

What was a surprise was when they lifted what should have been their hands, only to have a massive rock form from between its disarticulated fingers. It grew until it was the size of Brune’s head and then launched itself at Ridan.

He yelped, spinning out of the way only for the rock to smash where he had just been standing, bits of broken rock flying out like shrapnel.

More magic?

Brune didn’t know what it was, but he was certain he didn’t have time to find out. They moved slowly, as if their legs were too heavy or not attached securely. But their rock projectiles were deadly and accurate.

Hoisting his shield, he stepped in front of a panting Ridan, taking off at a brisk run to hopefully draw their attention. Rocks slammed into his shield, knocking him into the wall. He swore as his cheek screamed in pain. Regaining his feet, he shouldered into another hit, letting his momentum push him through it. Emerging on the other side in a cloud of rock dust, he planted his feet and swung his hammer with all his strength.

The flattened head of his hammer crunched into something thick. It sent vibrations reverberating through his arm, but he could tell his weapon hadbitten into something. The thing screamed hoarsely. Like its throat was replaced by a hollow reed. Brune pulled his hammer free, taking a chunk of the thing’s abdomen with him.

It crumpled to the ground. Brune was horrified not to find blood spilling from the wound, but mud. Thick, viscous mud splattered on the floor at his feet. Stumbling backwards, he watched as the thing fell forward into the mess.