(eng) Jonathan Moeller - Frostborn 12 by The Dwarven Prince

Author:The Dwarven Prince [Prince, The Dwarven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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Ridmark, Caius, Kharlacht, and Sir Ector listened as the scout made his report to Narzaxar and Azakhun. The scout was a weathered-looking dwarf of middle years, a scar twisting his bearded lip into a perpetual scowl. Unlike most of the dwarves, he wore a peculiar sort of grayish chain mail that seemed to blend into the colors of the rocks around him. Perhaps the dwarven stonescribes and smiths had been inspired by the scales of the trolls and the koballats.

“What news, Malzuraxis?” said Narzaxar.

The weathered scout turned his head and spat on the dust of the cavern floor. “Kobolds. Nearly a thousand of them.”

“We could take a thousand,” said Azakhun, “but we would suffer losses.”

“We’d suffer severe losses, lord Taalmak,” said Malzuraxis. “They’ve dug in ahead, built themselves fortifications. Crude things, aye, and we could knock them down with our siege engines, but they will fire back while we do.”

“Which cavern have they claimed?” said Narzaxar.

“The Silent Gallery,” said Malzuraxis, and the other dwarves nodded. The dwarves of Khald Tormen had given names to all the major landmarks in the Deeps for a hundred miles in all directions.

“What is this Silent Gallery like?” said Ridmark.

Narzaxar glanced at him. “The cavern is about a mile long, and three hundred yards across at its widest point. The entrance is about forty yards across.”

“The kobolds have built fortifications there,” said Malzuraxis, “and worse, they have prepared a rockfall trap. If we force the gate of their fortifications, they will withdraw, and bury us alive in an avalanche.”

“The tribe,” said Caius. “Did you see which tribe of kobolds? There are many in this section of the Deeps.”

“The Blue Skulls,” said Malzuraxis. “They tattoo their heads with a pattern of a blue skull.”

“Distinctive,” said Ridmark. He could imagine what Calliande would think.

“They do that to show their allegiance to the Sculptor,” said Narzaxar. “They are his allies, and come to war at his call. Undoubtedly the Sculptor summoned them to secure the Silent Gallery and his route to Khald Tormen.” He looked back at Malzuraxis. “What do you suggest?”

The scout spat into the dust again. “We could make a frontal assault, lord Taalkhan, but it would be bloody, and we’d lose a lot of men. We would win, but at a steep cost.”

“Could we go around?” Ridmark.

“We could,” said Azakhun, “but it would take an additional three days to reach Thainkul Morzan. Worse, it would leave the Blue Skulls in our rear, and they could attack at will.”

Ridmark turned as Third, Gavin, and Camorak approached. It looked as if they had been listening for some time, and Ridmark shared a glance with Third. She gave a slight nod, and he turned back to Narzaxar.

“I think,” said Ridmark, “that I may have another way.”

“I will listen to any suggestions,” said Narzaxar.

“Then I suggest,” said Ridmark, “and Third and I sneak into the kobold fortifications and trigger their rockfall trap.”

Silence answered him.

Malzuraxis whistled. “That would do it. The scaly rats are camped under their own trap. I figure they want to lure us in and then drop the trap on our heads.

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