Dingradur found itself under assault from a large warband of orcs led by an orcish shaman of some power who they later learnt was called Zargon.
Their attackers proved to be well equipped and well organised. Their initial assault force took control of the area that the dwarves referred to as “The Porch”. It was a natural-looking cave, meant to deceive casual visitors, but not exactly secret. It was where Yspadadden greeted visitors, stepping out from a secret door onto an overhang that formed a sort of gallery. Most got no further into the dwarven hold but transacted their business there. Few ever saw the great doors at the back of the cave open. These too were secret and hidden from the gaze of all but the most observant who were not magically sighted or dwarvish. However, these orcs had brought digging equipment. More troubling was the great beaked battering ram that Yspadadden suspected was a bound demon. Worse still, peering out from a secret vantage point at the top of the hill, they espied scores more orcs with sledges filled with heavy equipment. Amongst them was a stone troll that could smash stone with its fists.
Yspadadden took counsel with Ranulf and his other followers – eight of them including Silden – his wife Ulfenir, and Wilfred and Girindor who happened to be guesting with him. The consensus was that with the resources available to them, the orcs would break in eventually if they were left to it. Attack was the only effective defence. Their only course was to sally forth, slay those in the cave including the shaman and hope that the rest of the warband without its leader would flee. Between them they devised a plan.
Ulfenir, Yspadadden’s wife was not just a pretty face, she was also an Earth Priestess and she could turn rock to mud. By this means she silently excavated a new gallery behind the left-hand wall of the cavern, leaving but a thin veneer of rock face near the cavemouth. This would shatter at the touch of a hammer to reveal a new and undetectable sally port. The dwarves and their allies filed into the gallery. When the signal was given, Ranulf and Silden smashed the wafer-thin wall with their battle-hammers. Through leapt Wilfred and Yspadadden followed by all the other dwarves, swords, axes and hammers swinging. Girindor followed and muttering incantations under his breath conjured a mighty Wall of Fire across the cave’s entrance, so the orcs inside could not escape and those outside could not interfere.
The orcs were taken completely by surprise and the dwarves were in amongst them before they could organise themselves. Nevertheless, Zargon and his bodyguards were no easy opponents. Zargon himself wielded a silvery blade that flashed through the air with surprising speed and weaved a web of defence that was hard to penetrate, while flickering out to inflict wound after wound on his assailants. However, Yspadadden got in close. He drew from his quiver an orc-bane arrow of his own manufacture, forged using lore he inherited from Regir. He thrust this into Zargon’s thigh. It was by no means a killing blow but it pierced the orc’s flesh and the orc-slaying runes did their work. With Zargon writhing out his last upon the floor the dwarves and their allies made short work of the rest.
Girindor cancelled his spell and Yspadadden strode out of the cave mouth, flanked by Wilfred and Ranulf. The other dwarves pressed in behind so that the orcs could only guess at their numbers. He tossed Zargon’s severed head at the orcs. Then he took another arrow from his quiver and shot it high over the heads of the orcish host. It made an eerie shrieking sound as it flew that struck fear into the hearts of those below it. The troll turned and fled into the night and was quickly followed by the orcs. The dwarves swiftly looted the orcish encampment, brought everything of value inside and made a pyre of the rest. Amongst the treasures was a Black Book, a substantial grimoire of spells and techniques that presumably belonged to Zargon. There was also a large quantity of huge grubs, the length and width of a strong man’s thigh. The orcs had plainly been using them as food. They looked disgusting, but cautious experimentation proved them to be delicious and highly nutritious.
With the dawn Yspadadden, Wilf, Girindor, Ranulf and Silden set forth to follow the tracks of the cave troll. Such creatures cannot abide the light of the sun and they are turned to stone if they are caught by its rays. This meant that it must have a den or at least a hiding place nearby and it were best if it was found and slain lest it return once more to Dingradur. It was not difficult to follow the trail. They found a cave and slew the stone troll within. This was its permanent home and they had a good quantity of treasure from it. They returned to Dingradur to feast and to share the loot.
Perhaps it was a poor idea to feast while poring over the treasure, for much of Ulfenir’s fine and potent ale and mead was consumed and tempers became chancy. The bone of contention was the silvery sword wielded by Zargon. Wilf, who liked to collect unusual weapons, greatly desired this sword. Yspadadden had examined it. He declared it to be an ancient high elven artefact wrought by a master smith countless aeons in the past. It was called The Moon Under Water (an elven metaphor, he thought, meaning something like topsy-turvy) and it had unusual properties. It was particularly strong in defence but deadly in the riposte. It had perfect balance but he thought it would fit an elven hand much better than his. He looked hard at Girindor as he spoke. He used the analogy of his dwarf axe – perfectly balanced to his hand but awkward to wield for an elf or a man. Above all, though, it was a work of art. There were gasps around the ale-hall when he valued it at one hundred talents.
Wilf said that he wanted it. He rummaged in his pockets and produced about just over ten talents in gold and gems. There were whistles of derision around the hall at this. Yspadadden pointed out that if he were to part with his fine axe, War Lust – taken from the hand of a mountain troll – and other of his magic amulets and weapons he might start to amass the required sum. This only increased Wilfred’s ire for he would not countenance parting with any of his equipment. Yspadadden sought out Girindor with his gaze for he was of the firm opinion that this was a weapon for an elf, but the druid had quietly slipped from the hall. Yspadadden shrugged and said that he was confident enough in his valuation that he would pay out 50,000 gold from his own hoard for the weapon. Wilf stormed out of the mead-hall in a fury.
Some time later in the night, the elf returned. He looked cold and windswept as if he’d been on a journey. He plonked a bag down upon the table. It contained gold and jewels to the value of eighty-eight talents. Yspadadden and Ranulf looked at each other and shrugged. It was close enough. Wilf was not available for comment.
F-21
OE Date: March 694
Characters: Yspadadden, Ranulf, Wilf, Girindor NPCs: Silden, Ulfenir, Dwarves of Dingradur
Real World: May 2002 ; Where: Surbiton