Blade of Erogrund

The sound of shuffling behind him inspired Godric to tear his gaze from the dead commander to where Kanora was struggling to get up.

“You so much as blink and you’re finished,” Hilthwen warned. She emphasizing the threat by pointing the sword she had picked up at the woman’s neck.

Kanora simply shrugged before flinching agonizingly as her gashes stretched. “Ah - there’s no need for that. I know when I’m beat.” She stood slowly, shaking her head. “You bunch aren’t too shabby.”

“Thanks,” Matthias muttered dryly. “Ephraun, tie her up if you don’t mind.” The soldier nodded, retrieving what cord remained from their bindings to tie Kanora’s wrists.

Matthias stooped to grab a sword for the soldier and turned to Godric. “That really wasn’t half bad,” he whispered.

Godric allowed himself a small grin but glanced back at the dead commander whose lifeless hand still grasped the hollowed handle of Erogrund. The icy light of its crystal blade still shone uncannily on the stone floor and the ashen face of the dead bandits.

“So that’s what happens when someone else wields the sword?”

Hilthwen shrugged. “I suppose so. Can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it. But,” she continued after hesitating, “then again, I haven’t ever seen Erogrund. It’s beautiful.”

“That’s one word for it,” Matthias commented. “Terrifying is another.”

“I’d agree to that one,” Ephraun added.

“Either way, what do we do with it?”

“I’d say you pick it up and take it with us? We can’t just leave it here - wherever ‘here’ is,” Hilthwen said, her eyes tracing the worn edges of the stone. “I’ve never heard of this place before, but evidently someone in the city has.”

“More than someone. I imagine it takes clout to order city guards to protect a treasure like Erogrund.”

“Right you are,” Matthias affirmed. “If we follow this through we might just find out who.”

“Or find Ecthion-knows-what,” Hilthwen counselled.

“The girl’s right,” Kanora muttered. “You’re bloody fools if you keep going blindly.”

“But you know where we’re at,” Godric finished with a light of understanding in his eyes. “So you’ll lead us on.”

“Ha,” the woman spat. “You’re an even bigger fool if you think that.”

“Oh?” Godric lifted his sword, flinching as the dagger wound in his chest burned in protest, and let its tip trace the skin on her arm beside the narrow wound he had just delivered. She cringed.

“Alright then. If that’s how it is.”

“It is,” Matthias commanded. “Lead the way.”

Ephraun retrieved one of the extinguished torches from the steps and plunged it back into hungry flames until it burned of its own accord before pushing the doorway open. Kanora entered reluctantly, Matthias, Godric - after drawing Erogrund from where it had fallen - and Hilthwen close behind.

Climbing the passage, few new sights fell on their eyes. Similar stones fashioned the climbing hall, though this section appeared in far better condition and did not suffer from the moisture that had plagued its underground counterpart. It also proved to be significantly shorter, ending in a great stone wall that stood seamlessly from the floor to ceiling.

“Well?” Matthias challenged. “Where from here?”

“You knock,” Kanora grunted. “But it can only be opened from the other side.”

At this Godric stayed his fist which had already sought to strike the stone. “There may not be friends on the other side. If Caeros has succeeded he may have some knowledge of this passage and have a guard on it.”

“There’s nothing to be done about that,” Matthias murmured, his armored fist striking the stone dully. “Better to find out then be left wondering, I say.”

Immediately a grinding sound exuded from somewhere on the other side. Somewhere a great stone scraped as it was drawn across the ground until the stone wall slowly began to drag away.

An unwelcome sight awaited behind the barrier of stone.

Two guards staggered after shoving the great boulder aside and between them stood the formidable frame of Caeros, arms crossed and eyes glaring blankly over the battle-marked ball attire of the day before. Blankly, that is, until their besotted darkness alighted upon the faces of those that stood in front of him.

His haggard lips curled in a sneer as his eyes lit with brooding surprise.

“Welcome to the Lower Halls, friends.”