Ember Legacy, Volume 3

Chapter 27: Descent into the Depths

Mountains to the West of Vale

"I'd rather be eaten by a dragon."

~ Famous Last Words

Pyrrha gazed ahead with some concern at the lead member of their reduced party, the orange-haired warrior striding at the fore with her oversized warhammer held negligibly over her shoulder. Nora had been unusually recalcitrant ever since Coco's death, none of her typical bubbly bantering in evidence. Jeanne had even left herself wide open for teasing, purposefully, or so the redhead suspected, but there had been no response.

She sighed lightly, turning her focus back to the forest on either side of the group. They had all taken the loss of the Bronze hard, but none so much as the fiery girl with kindred blood flowing in her veins. The brunette had been a part of their lives all too fleetingly, and yet had quickly proved to be a stalwart companion, fun to converse with and a joy to fight beside.

Covering up her yawn, Pyrrha's emerald eyes flickered to the side and slightly behind where her squire trailed, alert and poised as she walked. The night before, by unspoken agreement, both Jeanne and herself had split up the watch evenly. Ren and Nora had talked quietly long into the night, the half-Elf offering what sympathetic support as only he knew how.

She smiled softly to herself. Theirs was a comfortable, loving relationship, the raven-haired man possessing an almost deific level of patience and his lover with an overwhelming, almost manic affection that, together, transcended anything she'd ever seen in a couple.

The sort of relationship I could envision having with Jeanne were we free to do so, comfortable and enduring.

Pyrrha sighed once more, the smile slipping from her face. No reason to dwell on that yet again, not that her brain ever listened to her in that regard. In any case, the trees ahead were beginning to thin, signifying that they just might be coming up on the edge of the seemingly endless woods.

Perhaps another fifteen minutes later saw the group of four standing just on the crest of a grassy ridge that overlooked the majesty of the mountains that ringed the Kingdom of Vale, providing a natural barrier from most invading armies.

Not so much by sea, or from the south, but certainly any invasion from the direction of Vacuo would have to go the long way around… Hence, the long-standing peaceful relations between the two kingdoms, even given the propensity for violence of most of the desert nomad tribes.

"Hey," Nora suddenly spoke up, her words slightly muted. "What do they call these mountains, anyway?"

Her boyfriend hummed thoughtfully. "I do not believe anyone has ever given this range a name, simply because they are the only mountains in the region. If anything, they likely just call them the Mountains of Vale."

The orange-haired warrior nodded slowly. "Well, I think we should call them the Coco Mountains."

Pyrrha glanced over, noting the matching smiles on her companions. "I think that would be a grand idea, Nora."

Jeanne spoke up next, the blonde extending an arm off to the right of where they stood. "So, those two mountains… They look a bit flattened on top?"

"They do indeed," Ren murmured. "Good eyes."

"Then our destination is set," the redheaded Knight of Artemis declared firmly. "Jeanne, I believe it is your turn on point, yes?"

"Very well, My Lady," the blonde returned with a slight smile, leading the way down the ridge and into the foothills of the newly-named Coco Mountains.

It took them a good three hours to reach the base of the range where the twin flat-capped mountains were joined. They had come across a wide, level incline some time ago that looked to have perhaps been carved out of the hills themselves. Little brush or other flora grew among the hills aside from grass, making Pyrrha slightly anxious about being seen by their pursuers, but the ancient causeway certainly made the going easier.

And then they found themselves standing before a massive portal, split almost imperceptibly down the middle as if the circular gate would have opened in such a fashion. The towering main doors to the tunnels of Rockhome were easily the height of most castle walls and cannily crafted so as to not leave any gap for the wind or any other elements to seep inside.

Archaic runes carved in a language lost to them eons ago, likely some form of Ancient Dwarven, ringed the doors in letters taller than Pyrrha stood. It was an impressive sight, to be sure, and all the more daunting as she wasn't quite sure how they would be able to breach them.

"Is this the only way in?" Jeanne asked, her voice quiet with awe.

"Were this a normal fortress, there should be a sally-gate nearby," the redhead murmured in reply, emerald eyes searching. "One for defenders to flank anyone assaulting the main gates."

"And for normal foot traffic," an unfamiliar gravelly voice spoke up nearby.

With a startled yelp, Jeanne spun around and raised her shield defensively. The others fanned out to either side but with far less menacing stances.

Facing them was a squat, grizzled Dwarf dressed in old leathers. He had a double-bladed axe tucked through his belt and streaks of grey running through both his long black beard and matching hair that was held back in a ponytail. Scarred knuckles were clenched at his side upon the blonde's reaction, but he carefully kept his hands away from his weapon.

"Also," he continued, the casualness forced into his voice, "the main gates were a bitch to open, usually only done fer special occasions or visitors."

"Jeanne, be at ease," Pyrrha murmured before stepping forward. "You seem to know quite a bit regarding the entrance to Rockhome, m'lord."

He sighed heavily, giving her a curt nod. "So you know the name of this cursed place, eh? I was hopin' you'd just be a buncha dumb travelers… But I suppose that'd be too much to ask fer, eh, Lady Knight?"

"Er, yes," she replied, perplexed. "We… Well, we require passage through these tunnels to the other side."

"Why is that?"

"We have numerous foes in pursuit, and it is imperative we reach Vale," Pyrrha stated.

The Dwarf grunted, eyeing the group with some suspicion, his beady dark eyes glittering in the late afternoon sunlight. "Well, if yer gonna traverse the tunnels of Rockhome, best to do so after a good night's sleep. Likely won't get any inside."

He nodded then, seemingly coming to a decision. "Name's Flint. C'mon, then, you can share my campfire and I'll let you know what yer gettin' into."

"My thanks, Flint," she smiled as her long legs hurried to catch up to his surprisingly fast stubby ones. "My name is Pyrrha, a Knight of Artemis, and this is my squire, Jeanne."

The Dwarf grunted once more, seemingly his preferred way of interaction. "Mistralian, yeah?"

"Yes, that's correct. Behind me are Ren, a Cleric of Oum, and then Nora."

Flint turned slightly, eyeing the last member of the party. "Nice hammer there, kid."

"Thanks, Flint!" the orange-haired warrior piped up, some of her cheerfulness restored.

They soon arrived at a clearing set just far enough away from the main entrance not to be noticed. It was situated against the rocks that made up the base of the mountains and had an air of permanence about it at odds with the way the Dwarf had referred to it.

"Ain't got much food to share," he grunted as he went about striking up a fire in the stone-ringed pit. "But I can put some coffee on, if ya like."

"Coffee?" Nora asked eagerly.

"No, Nora."

"But, Renny…"

"No, Nora."

"Aww." The hammer-wielder in question flopped down on a nearby tree trunk that had been carved into a surprisingly comfortable bench, as Pyrrha found out once she lowered herself down onto it as well.

"Is there a reason she's not allowed coffee?" she whispered towards the half-Elf as he passed her, food in hand to prepare their meal.

Ren paused, giving her a look at was part exasperated, part haunted. "Best not to ask."

"Very well." She turned towards their host, noting that Jeanne had not yet joined them, instead remaining on guard. She smiled slightly at her squire's adherence to duty, yet another quality about the sapphire-eyed blonde that attracted her so.

Not now, damn it all, focus!

"So, Flint… It would appear you have been set up here for some time."

The Dwarf nodded as he hung a pot over the flames, suspended by a latticed iron grill that stretched over the top of the firepit. He gestured behind him at the small lean-to that seemed to be crafted from both timber and metal. "Been here almost five years, now, actually."

"Why so long?" Ren asked. He was arranging ingredients into another pot before adding water and placing it atop the iron lattice to cook.

"Suppose that'd be the best place to start, eh?" Flint sat down on a stump that had been fashioned into a chair, complete with armrests, perfectly sized for his stature. "Or, at the least, the reason I ended up here in the first place…"

He waited for dinner to be ready, adding in some meat of his own, freshly-seasoned and cooked venison, and everyone had a plate, before he began. Even Jeanne had relented, though she crouched outside the circle with one wary eye kept upon the surrounding hills and another on their host.

"So, Rockhome," Flint finally began, his low gravelly voice easily reaching those assembled. "Once the shinin' glory of the Dwarven race. Home to many clans, Hill and Mountain Dwarves alike. Used to be just one clan rulin' them all, where they got the name from, but the King of Rockhome invited a buncha others in to help once he hit the motherlode of all gold veins."

The scraggly Dwarf took a sip of his coffee before continuing to his enraptured audience. "See, Rockhome, they started the whole political system most of us Dwarves keep to today, that of a council. Back then it was made up of the heads of the clans, with old Rockhome himself havin' the final vote. 'Twas an era of prosperity for our race, but we were more concerned with diggin', y'know. Findin' more gold, more iron ore, more gems…"

"What happened?" Nora asked breathily into the somber silence, her turquoise eyes shimmering eagerly from the tale.

"They broke through somewhere," he finally grunted. "Weren't no single great evil, so far as the stories tell, but a whole swarm of creatures and folk weren't even known to exist before." He smiled bitterly behind the bristling beard. "As I understand it, the Dwarves of Rockhome managed to destroy part of a Duergar clan's home cavern, and that kinda enmity ain't given up since."

Pyrrha nodded slowly. The Duergar, or Dark Dwarves, were an exclusively subterranean race, and the hatred between them and the surface Dwarves was a thing of legend. "And there were other… creatures… that came out besides the Duergar?"

"Oh, to be sure, plenty o' beasties. Some of 'em pets of them mud-diggers, some of 'em they were fighting. As I understand it, they might have even beaten them all back, were it not for the Drow."

"D- Drow?" Nora squeaked, unusually tremulous. "So, there's really Drow down there?"

"Aye, somewhere down in those tunnels are the things nightmares are made of," Flint affirmed. "Me and six of my mates, we decided to be stupid and see if the legends were true. Did our research, geared up, and went down into there, five years ago…" He sighed heavily. "Only thing waitin' for you lot down there is death, same as my mates. You go down there, be prepared to never see the light ever again."

"Um," Jeanne raised a questioning hand. "What are Drow?"

Unsurprisingly, it was Ren who spoke up in low, serious tones. "The Drow are a race of dark-skinned Elves who live in the Underdark. Very dangerous, very lethal, very violent. Females are usually Clerics and the most powerful, males are usually Mages, but all can fight." He frowned slightly as he looked around the group. "This does considerably change things. The Dark Elves, along with the Duergar, have excellent vision in little to no light. The enchantments on Drow weapons and chainmail armor are powerful, though they dissipate in the daylight."

"It matters not," Pyrrha insisted. "Coco's plan is still solid, especially with how off-course we now are. At this point, we have to carry on if we are to reach Vale."

The half-Elf rubbed at the bridge of his nose wearily but glanced up as his girlfriend rested a hand on his shoulder.

"We gotta do this, Renny," she stated softly, her earlier hesitance gone.

He nodded finally with a quiet sigh. "Very well."

The redhead turned to regard her squire, her insides clenching up momentarily at the thought of sending her alongside herself into what could be a certain death. "Jeanne?" she asked, relieved with how she managed to keep any of the emotion bubbling within her out of her voice.

The blonde glanced up, sapphire eyes calm and accepting. "You know I shall follow you, no matter where you go, My Lady," she stated softly.

Pyrrha could feel the tears begin to brim, and could only nod as she reached up to discreetly wipe them away. By the looks on the rest of her party, nobody was fooled. "Alright, then," she stated somewhat gruffly before clearing her throat. "Flint, we are still resolved in this course. Can you tell us how to enter the tunnels?"

The Dwarf stared back, beady eyes unreadable. "Yeah," he finally grunted. "I'll show ya in the mornin'."

"You could come with us," Pyrrha pleaded with an earnest quiet. "We could certainly use your skills and help."

Flint just shook his head slowly, staring into the dying fire. "Swore on my beard I'd never set foot in that damnable place ever again," he rumbled. "'Cause if I do so, it'd be the end of me."

The redhead nodded, unsurprised but certainly not upset. "I understand. Thank you for your words of wisdom this evening."

"Not that yer gonna follow it any and leave, eh?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

Flint grunted once more, though this time it had a note of resigned finality to it. "Well, it's yer funeral."

o o o

Morning dawned, crisp and bright. The air spoke of the coming winter, just around the corner, a cool and biting breeze cutting through their clothing and armor. Pyrrha recalled how the forests they'd traveled through had already begun to change color, signifying the turning of the seasons.

She had a feeling, though, that winter was not far off at all.

As it turned out, Flint had set up his camp in a very specific spot. His lean-to concealed one of the portals that bypassed the main gate to Rockhome. After he'd removed some of the covering, he ushered them inside, parting with one last gift of several bundled cloth-wrapped sticks that could be used as torches to supplement Ren's magical lighting.

He didn't say much else, just sealing the iron portal behind them once more with a resounding clang.

"Right," Pyrrha breathed, eyeing the chamber they found themselves in, lit by the light at the end of the Cleric's staff. "Let's hold off on using the torches just yet, I think Ren's light will suffice for now."

The half-Elf gave her a nod. "I only need to renew it every few hours, it isn't that much of a strain."

"Marching order?" Jeanne questioned tersely, standing at the ready by the open doorway leading from the barren chamber.

"Myself, then Nora, Ren." The redhead nodded to herself as she unslung her shield. "Jeanne, take rear guard, please. Everyone keep alert and your weapons ready."

"Got it," Nora chuckled, hefting her hammer eagerly. "Can't wait for Magnhild to make some new friends."

She didn't have long to wait, as the long hallway let them out and into an enormous stone room. Though room didn't really do the vast chamber justice, perhaps cavern described it better. To the left, they could see the main gate reaching up to the ceiling far above. The width of the entryway was just as immense, enough so that a pair of Gold Dragons might fly through, wingtip-to-wingtip, and the other end was far beyond their vision.

Directly in front of them, however, was an immediate threat.

Skittering forward on spindly legs were a group of spiders the size of horses. The arachnids wasted no time in launching themselves forward at the party of adventurers.

Nora, in turn, wasted even less time in squashing the first giant spider flat with her warhammer after dropping the bundle of unlit torches. Its legs splayed outward as its insides were pulverized, but the one directly behind it was ready with a follow-up attack. After a soft coughing sound, a viscous blob flew out and landed on the orange-haired warrior's face. She stumbled back, dropping her hammer and grasping futilely at the webbing now clotting her eyes, nose, and mouth.

"Oum's blood," Pyrrha scowled, slashing out at another arachnid and severing a pair of legs, causing it to skitter away. "Jeanne, to me! Ren, see to Nora!"

"On it," the half-Elf replied tersely. "Also, language."

A brief smile tugged at the corners of the redhead's mouth before she let it drop, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her squire. Several more globs were hurled, but now that they were expecting them the pair of armored women blocked the attacks with their shields. And then the spiders were upon them, faceted eyes gleaming in the dull lighting. Both women slashed away at the tangle of spindly limbs and snapping mandibles, fortunately not receiving any bites from the latter, seeing how they were all dripping with what was most assuredly lethal venom.

Pyrrha swung her blade overhand, cutting deeply into one incautious attacker before slashing outward and blinding another. But then she felt a tug on her shield and almost lost her balance. Another spider had latched on from afar with a long strand of the sticky webbing, trying to pull her in.

At her side, Jeanne let out a defiant roar and shouldered the redhead back, chopping furiously at the strands. But then she let out a dismayed shout as the now-severed strand retracted, along with her sword.

"Dammit!" the blonde barked out. "I liked that sword!"

"Get behind me!" Pyrrha urged, taking a quick step forward. "Protect my blind side!"

"I've got you, My Lady," her squire agreed, hunkering behind her shield with her hip touching that of her own. They managed to keep the arachnids at bay, though unable to go onto the offensive, while still maintaining a watch for more of the web attacks.

And then there was a pause, the growing assembly of arachnids shrinking back as if suddenly afraid.

The cause for their hesitation stormed past the armored duo, Magnhild in hand. Nora's face was reddened, with wisps of webbing still trailing from her cheeks and her turquoise eyes glinting furiously.

"They're mine," she gritted out darkly.

Pyrrha winced slightly as she watched the pink-armored girl wade into the spiders with abandon. She whirled about, hammer swinging widely and sending the attackers flying in all directions. Soon enough the onslaught was broken up, though a new sound replaced that of the chittering spiders.

Stampeding boots.

"Duergar," Ren reported tensely as he walked up. "We need to move before they arrive."

"I can't find my sword!" Jeanne cried out softly, standing in the midst of spider limbs and dripping ichor.

"We shall have to make do, Jeanne!" the redhead urged, taking her by the armored shoulder. "Ren? Do you see-"

"This way!" the half-Elf called out from where he was dragging a reluctant Nora along. His girlfriend was muttering something about squashing every single bug on the face of Remnant, but he was able to easily pull her along towards the opposite wall from where they'd emerged.

The Mistralian Knight ushered her morose squire ahead of her, soon enough coming to another doorway. Ren had it open already, waving them forward.

"Stairwell!" he reported in a hushed but urgent tone. "Nora is scouting, but we must hurry, they will be able to see us soon!"

Nodding, Pyrrha brushed past him, giving his arm a grateful squeeze. The commotion from outside was cut off as Ren eased the door shut and they started up the stone staircase to catch up with the fourth member of their group.

o o o

The Orc scout grunted as he surveyed the area. The fight had been brief but fierce, two of his group receiving mortal wounds before the damnable little bastard had been felled. He moved easily across the clearing, his blood-stained leather armor hardly making any noise.

But then he drew himself to attention as he heard the stomping of mailed boots approaching. The last member of his scouting group had been sent back to report to their Warboss, and hopefully that would be him now.

Sure enough, the massive scarred Orc entered the clearing, eyes narrowed as he took the scene in.

"This better be good, Grumshel," he growled in their native guttural tongue.

"Oh, it's good, boss," he grinned. Scouts such as himself were proven to be more intelligent than the others in a typical war party, able to think for themselves and follow up on clues that would lead to a successful hunt.

In this case, a group of particularly troublesome humanoids.

The Warboss just grunted, striding over towards where the corpse of their prey lay. He hauled the severed head up by its long beard, revealing the gaping visage of a Dwarf. "And what about this cur was enough to get me down here?"

Wordlessly, the scout gestured around the campsite, pointing out the five dirty plates with fairly recent food scraps. And then he stalked over to the lean-to, pulling it roughly aside to reveal the portal set into the side of the mountain that he'd noticed earlier.

The giant Orc nodded, his beady eyes glittering eagerly before turning to the handful of his elite guard that had accompanied him. "Boys, looks like we're gonna head underground for a bit," he grinned. "Sound the horn, I want the entire horde in there yesterday."

o o o

The group of adventurers had been creeping along the winding passageway for what seemed like hours, yet Ren had assured them that only a single hour at best had passed. They'd paused briefly to remove the rest of the webbing from Nora's face and hair, though the latter would take a thorough bathing to do it justice.

And Jeanne had finally stopped grumbling about her lack of a sword after the first fifteen minutes or so.

They'd come across a few small rooms, most seemingly for storage of supplies, one that seemed to have been an armory at one point, and another filled with some sort of strange gears and machinery. The metal in that room was meshed together in a way that would prevent any of it from being removed, yet none of it was rusted. The purpose of it was uncertain, however.

Eventually, Pyrrha held up a hand from where she led. Distantly a noise had reached her, that of metal clashing on metal. As she strained her senses, she almost made out a noise that sounded a lot like raised voices.

"There's a battle up ahead," Ren confirmed solemnly. "I cannot make out the languages used, however."

"Alright, then," Pyrrha murmured, turning her head slightly. "Be ready." Her eyes drifted over to where Jeanne still brought up the rear determinedly. Clutched in the blonde's right hand was a dagger.

The redhead blinked her eyes uncertainly and then allowed a soft smile to spread across her face at the sparked memory. "Jeanne," she whispered. "Say the word lumos."

"Er, very well, My Lady," the blonde replied, perplexed. "Lumos."

The dagger in her hand began to glow a soft white, adding considerably to the light cast by Ren's spell. Jeanne let out a squawk as she almost fumbled the dagger in surprise.

"The same word will dispel it," Pyrrha added with a grin.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was an enchanted blade," Jeanne said hurriedly, grasping for the dagger's sheath that was in the same pouch housing the Orb.

"Don't worry about it, Jeanne," the redhead giggled quietly. "You may keep it. Honestly, I had forgotten Blake and Weiss gave us some of the magical items from Mountain Glen."

"Um." Jeanne looked between the dagger and her Knight before smiling widely. "I thank you, My Lady."

Pyrrha inclined her head, emerald eyes twinkling with humor, before turning forward once more. Her face was set in a steely resolve now as she began moving forward again, alert for any trouble.

After another ten feet or so they came across another door, this one set into the right wall, while all of the others had been along the left. She glanced back at the others, shrugging, as the noise was definitely coming from behind the portal. After receiving a consensus, and their lights had been extinguished, she slowly inched the door open.

And peered out onto a scene straight from the Abyss.

Pyrrha opened the door open the rest of the way and crouched, crawling forward until she could raise herself up to peer over the parapet of the archer's balcony she found herself on. The other three silently joined her, gazing down below.

An enormous, hotly-contested battle had been underway for some time now. From what the redhead could tell, a force of Orcs had been opposed by a larger force of Duergar. The dark-skinned and -armored Dwarves were definitely holding their own, despite the fierce and oversized heavily-armed Orc war party. One particularly humongous Orc was in the middle, swinging his battleaxe with angry roars as he cleaved through several opponents at once.

Other Orcs were not so fortunate, as a number of large bear-like creatures encroached on the flanks of the battle. They stood upright, towering over the green-skinned surface-dwellers, but their snouts ended in a beak that could easily bite through the toughest armor.

Pyrrha shuddered briefly, leaning over to whisper in the ear of her squire. "Owl-bears. Very dangerous."

The blonde nodded, turning so that their cheeks touched to murmur in her own ear. "I figured that. Tough hides and a nasty attack."

The both of them froze suddenly as they realized the rather intimate position they now found themselves in. Cheeks burning brightly, both armored women quickly turned back towards the battle, steadfastly ignoring the quiet giggles coming from Nora's direction.

"Right," she murmured after another minute. "We should…" Her head cocked to the side as she heard the pounding of more booted feet, though this time they didn't seem to be coming from below, instead…

Nora had already reacted, crawling back to lean against the wall next to the door. It was mostly closed, but there was enough of a crack that the sounds of the running Duergar became startlingly clear after only a few moments. Ren, Jeanne, and Pyrrha inched back behind the door opposite from Nora, holding their breaths.

"Why are they coming up here?" the blonde breathed.

"Flanking the Orcs," Pyrrha murmured tersely, gripping shield and sword determinedly.

The footsteps increased in volume until they began to recede once more. Just when they thought they might have escaped detection, the door slammed open and a half-dozen of the squat Duergar spilled out onto the ledge.

Both sides froze, staring at each other in surprise. Before any of the crossbow-wielding Dark Dwarves could react, Nora's hammer smashed down, pulverizing the rearmost of their opponents.

The others sprang into action, quickly cutting the others down before they could raise an alarm. Pyrrha stood over them, breathing heavily, before she glanced at Ren, who had felled a pair of Duergar by himself.

Nodding, the half-Elf slipped around the corner, peering both ways down the hall before sticking his head back in. "Clear," he reported.

"Let's move," the redhead ordered. As they exited the balcony, Jeanne paused and slipped a black-bladed shortsword from the sheath of one of the corpses.

"Better than nothing," the blonde shrugged.

The group moved hastily down the corridor, Ren in the lead now but with his illumination enchantment remaining dispelled. Instead, Jeanne trod close behind, glowing dagger in her off-hand while she clutched her scrounged sword in the other. Pyrrha brought up the rear this time, glancing over her shoulder every so often.

If they didn't run into more reinforcements, the Duergar would at the least come across their slaughtered comrades at some point. Depending, of course, upon the outcome of the battle in the main hall.

After several hundred feet of continued running, Ren brought them up short. They'd ignored the side passages and doorways for the most part, but he paused next to another door, seemingly indistinguishable from the others.

"More Duergar approaching," he stated softly over his shoulder. "Should we duck inside here?"

"Better than fighting them," Pyrrha replied. "We don't know how many there are, and the longer we can remain undetected the better."

Nodding, Ren turned the door handle, giving it a push open when he found it to be unlocked. He stepped aside to allow Nora and Jeanne by first but then followed close upon their heels. Pyrrha was the last through, closing the portal softly but firmly.

The room they found themselves in was barren and wide with three doors at the end, all of which looked to be in the same state as the others they'd come across.

"Why is everything here so well-preserved?" Nora whispered curiously, turquoise eyes roaming about. "Shouldn't they be all rotten and stuff?"

"Dry air," Ren replied gently. "The atmosphere down here prevents rot, though I'm sure the craftsmanship has something to do with it as well."

"Which door?" Jeanne questioned, pointing her glowing dagger at each in turn.

Pyrrha tapped her sword against her armored thigh thoughtfully, the clinking sound echoing from the chamber walls. "Let's try the right-hand one, as that is the direction we were heading."

"Hopefully parallel to our previous course," Ren murmured.

"Precisely."

Jeanne nodded and stepped forward, opening the unlocked door cautiously. When nothing untoward leapt out at them, the group filed through in the same order as before, closing the door behind them carefully.

The hallway they found themselves in gradually sloped downwards, though not quite to the level of the main hall. It did, indeed, seem to be heading in the same easterly direction that they hoped the far entrance could be found.

They continued on, cautiously yet quickly, hoping to avoid any further contact with the enemy.

o o o

The Orc Warboss grunted irritably as he strode towards the head of his greatly-reduced host. He'd lost almost all of his expendable grunts, both to Duergar blades and those Gruumsh-be-damned Owl-bears. The attack to his rear was doubly vexing as it claimed a pair of his elite guard.

But he'd managed to push past them and into a side passageway on the right, leaving some more of his weaker or wounded Orcs behind to delay while he led the advance further inside. He didn't care overmuch about the pit-dwellers, but he was certain those weakling humanoids had come this way. He would have his prize, one way or another, and the forty or so Orcs remaining would be more than enough for the job.

His last remaining scouts glided ahead of him, their black leather rendering them almost invisible against the walls. But then the one on the right let out a startled shout as the very shadows themselves, once a source of concealment, seemed to swallow him whole.

The Warboss growled as he hefted his battleaxe, stopping the progress of the host. The other scout inched back fearfully before something dark whipped out from the blackness, wrapping around his throat before dragging him back with a wet gurgle. His panicked thrashing was cut short soon thereafter.

"Show yerself!" the massive Orc snarled in his guttural native language.

Surprisingly, his opponents decided to oblige. A trio of ebony-skinned Elves confidently walked forward, swaying as they each trailed a bundled set of black whips which writhed like living things. Their hair was bone-white and their armor linked rings of enchanted chainmail, silent and flowing over their lithe bodies like water.

"You're far from home, Orc," the one in the middle purred in the Common tongue.

"Outta my way, Elf bitch," he growled back in the same language, the words clumsy and forced as they fell from his lips.

"Oh, now, really?" the Drow on the right asked with a sly grin. "Such impudence."

"I think we should teach him manners, my sisters," the one on the left snickered softly.

Having heard enough of their inane banter, the Orc Chieftain let out a challenging bellow and gripped his axe tightly. As he did so, several small crossbow bolts rained out from the sides, cutting down more of his horde. And then from below him, tentacles made up of blackness darker than a moonless night sky wrapped around his body in a constricting embrace.

"Very well, then, Orc," the middle Drow called out, speaking his race this time as if a curse in its own right. "Let us dance."

o o o

"Have we lost them?" Jeanne panted from up front.

"Perhaps," Pyrrha responded, just as out of breath as her squire.

They'd run into one batch of bad luck after another. The first chamber they'd come across had been inhabited by a group of Wraiths, shadowy creatures of the undead, who were none too pleased with the intrusion. Fortunately, Ren was able to quickly summon up a repelling rune that allowed them to escape out the other side of the room.

After that, the hallway rejoined the original one they'd been traversing, spilling them out right in the middle of another group of Duergar who had just ascended a staircase directly across from them.

This time, the fighting was fiercer and certainly louder. Any hope of stealth was dashed as they defeated the first group, only to hear shouts of reinforcements on the way.

By this point, they had been running without a break for almost an hour. All of them were winded, Ren in particular though he'd not voiced one word of complaint.

"Let's rest for just a moment," the redhead advised, slowing her sprint down to a walk while gulping in huge lungfuls of air.

The half-Elf Cleric trudged along, seemingly even wearier now that the pace had slowed. He pushed off the wall with each step to steady himself. Nora kept herself in his shadow, seemingly to catch her lover if he faltered, though she herself could barely heft her warhammer.

"Jeanne," she called out softly. "Any side-chambers ahead?"

"One," the blonde confirmed over her shoulder. Though her pauldrons heaved with each breath, the Knight-in-training was as fit as Pyrrha herself, quickly recovering from their earlier manic pace.

"Let's try it."

"Very well, My Lady. I'll take point, then?"

"Please."

Jeanne shouldered the door in, dropping any subtlety by this point. She was quick to wave them forward and inside as she guarded the portal.

The small storage room was, as with just about every other chamber they'd come across, empty. Both Ren and Nora wearily sagged to the ground, sweating and still breathing heavily, while Pyrrha and Jeanne stood guard, stretching their limbs so as not to seize up.

They heard several search parties move past their door, but none stopped to search the room. Just in case, though, Pyrrha kept her boot firmly planted against the door each time she heard a commotion outside. Hopefully, anyone trying it would assume it to be locked.

After fifteen minutes, though, the sounds of pursuit seemed to have dwindled away into nothing.

"Maybe they found something else to occupy themselves with," Jeanne murmured, leaning against the wall now in a crouch. "Do you think all those Orcs got taken care of?"

"It was a large war party," Pyrrha murmured consideringly. "I doubt they would have been easily eliminated."

"Likely the same group of Orcs who have been dogging us for so long," Ren sighed, Nora's head upon his shoulder as they rested.

"Fuckin' Orcs," the orange-haired warrior mumbled. "Hate 'em."

"I know, Nora," her boyfriend reassured her gently.

Pyrrha offered the pair a sympathetic smile. "We should get going again. It has been a few hours since we entered these tunnels, hopefully we are at the least halfway through."

"Right," Jeanne grunted as she stood. "So long as we don't venture any further down, we should stay out of the deeper tunnels, right?"

"That's what I'm hoping for," the redhead agreed. "We've passed several staircases, but so long as we remain on this level I hope to come across the rear entrance."

"What if the rear entrance is lower than us?" Nora asked, stretching as she regained her footing and helped the raven-haired Cleric up as well.

"Let's not dwell on that," Pyrrha stated firmly. "The main hallway seemed to be one long tunnel, I believe it would have connected the two entrances."

"And if not, we'll figure it out when we get there," the blonde added supportively.

Pyrrha offered her a slight smile as they eased themselves out and into the deserted hallway.

Their passage was, thankfully, unopposed as they traversed the long hallway. Several times they had to duck into a side chamber to avoid detection, but for the most part, a good hour and a half passed without anything untoward happening.

Eventually, though, their progress was halted by a pair of large, ornate, bronze-sheathed doors. Naturally, they were locked.

"Do we backtrack?" Jeanne wondered.

Pyrrha sighed and shook her head. "No, the last side passage was a half hour ago, I do not want to lose that much time. Besides which, this should be near where we need to go." She bent over to regard the large keyhole. "I do wish we had Blake with us, however."

"Ah, don't worry any, Pyrrha," Nora chuckled. "I have my own set of lockpicks."

"You… do?" the redhead asked, standing back up.

"Yep! Just stand back and lemme do my work!"

"Very well," she replied hesitantly.

Jeanne stepped up to her side. "You do know what her method of lockpicking will be, right?" she murmured humorously.

The redhead blinked several times before letting out a groan. "Nora-"

She was cut off by the ringing boom of both doors slamming inwards, propelled by a mighty swing of Magnhild. Nora stood by, grinning cheerfully.

"See? Just as good as any Rogue!"

"Yes, quite stealthy," Jeanne deadpanned.

Pyrrha just shook her head wearily and stepped into the wide chamber. It was ringed by massive statues of Dwarves made of marble. The armored figures held long-handled battleaxes attentively, facing one another along the long hallway. Magical globes illuminated the room from the ceiling high overhead.

Before she could take another step, Ren halted her with a hand on her shoulder. "It's trapped," he reported with a frown. "I can see the glyphs set into the floor at random intervals, they're weak but effective still."

"If you can see them, you can traverse the hallway, correct?"

"Yes, I could… You would all have to match my footing precisely."

"I think we can manage that…" Pyrrha paused as she tilted her head at an approaching sound. "Oh, no… not now…"

"We've got company," Jeanne affirmed. The shouting was getting closer, enough so that they could make out movement at the far end from where they'd come.

Pyrrha looked towards the ruined doors frantically. There was no way to secure them again.

She turned then to see Nora regarding her sadly. "I'm sorry," the orange-haired girl solemnly murmured to her.

"Don't you worry about it," Pyrrha returned confidently. "How fast can you run?"

The pink-armored woman perked up quickly. "As fast as my Renny can!"

By this point crossbow bolts were beginning to land among them, plinking off of the shields that Jeanne and Pyrrha had raised.

"On the count of three, we run!" the redhead barked out. "One… Two…"

"Oum preserve us," both Jeanne and Ren murmured simultaneously.

"THREE!"

Both Ren and Nora turned, sprinting forward, with the other pair hard on their heels. Soon enough, though, the half-Elf and his girlfriend pulled ahead, leaving Pyrrha lagging slightly behind. She kept her shield slung across her back now to deflect any bolts, but one burned a trail along her right forearm, not enough to cause her to worry. Flashes of light from behind them reflected off of the marble statues on either side and then loud thudding sounds could be heard amidst the sudden screams of agony.

As Ren and Nora pulled further ahead, Pyrrha could see the glyphs light up on the floor after they'd passed. Out of the corner of her eye she noted movement as the statues came to life all around her.

"Keep running!" she screamed, her arms pumping at her sides. "Don't slow down!"

She was dropping further behind, even Jeanne by this point having outdistanced her by a number of strides. The redhead, for the first time in her life, cursed her ornate and heavy armor. It was a second skin to her, the very foundation of a Knight's being, and certainly heavier than the rudimentary armor that Jeanne wore.

But it was slowing her down.

Now she could see the statues as they began to raise their massive axes, stony faces a mask of indifference as they attempted to fulfill their ancient masters' design and kill the intruders.

"Door!" Nora hollered out. Without breaking stride, she unlimbered her warhammer, twirling it about her head before hurtling into the rear doorways, smashing them inwards.

She was almost there, just a few more strides…

Panicked, the redhead watched the last battleaxe as it began to descend, right in her path.

With a determined scream, the armored Knight put on a last burst of speed and leapt through the doorway, Jeanne grabbing hold of her arm to help fling her through, just as the axe slammed into the ground behind her. She rolled over, wide-eyed, only to see Jeanne and Ren struggling to pull the doors closed, while Nora wrestled with a massive iron bench.

But she didn't really pay attention to any of that. Instead, her vision was filled with the sight of towering Dwarven statues as they methodically cut the pursuing Duergar into bloody, meaty pulp.

And then the scene was cut off as the doors closed, Nora slamming their improvised barricade across them.

Breathing heavily, all four managed to make their way over to the far wall to slump wearily against it.

"Well," Pyrrha panted. "That was…"

"Bracing?" Ren opined mildly.

"Terrifying?" Jeanne supplied next.

"Awesome!" Nora cheered, though her enthusiasm was somewhat muted.

"Yes," the redhead eventually replied. "All of those. We can't rest for long, however, we're too close."

The blonde squire peered down both directions of the hallway they found themselves in. "Which way?"

Pyrrha wearily pointed towards their left. "Main hall should be that way."

"Hopefully without further opposition," Jeanne sighed as she pulled herself up.

"Oh, Jeannie," Nora snickered. "Where'd the fun be in that?"

The blonde shook her head as the group cautiously made their way towards their goal. "You and I have a very different definition of fun, Nora."

"Too true, too true."

o o o

Only seven Orcs left, including himself. The Warboss growled under his breath, ignoring the slight twinge from his injured right leg as he stomped down the corridor. He'd begun his hunt with almost two hundred brave warriors, and this was what he was reduced to now.

Seven Gruumsh-fucking Orcs.

Of those, one was missing his left hand. Fortunately, he was able to strap a wooden shield to the bloody stump and wield his spiked mace without further hindrance. But all of them were exhausted from the constant battling they'd been faced with ever since they'd entered this thrice-damned network of tunnels.

"Fucking Drow," he muttered angrily. "Sheep-rutting Duergar. Be too soon I see another one o' them dark-skinned bastards again."

The passageways they traversed along the right from the main hall seemed to curve inwards now, before meeting up with another cross-passage. The Chieftain grunted at one of his guard, gesturing towards the right. He returned within a minute to report a small door there which opened to the outside.

"Ain't been used much," his lieutenant rumbled. "Floor was dusty. Good bet they ain't been by yet."

"And if that was a side door…" The Warboss grunted thoughtfully. He turned towards the left fork, leading his men out and into the main hall once more. Ahead was an enormous door, mate to the one on the other side.

"Right," the giant Orc stated firmly. "Carguk, head out that first door, go hunt up another war party. I don't give a shit if they're Bloodletters or Deathstalkers or whoever the fuck you find, you get them over this way to link up with us. Got me?"

In response, his lieutenant wordlessly slammed his mailed fist against his chestplate before turning and heading back the way they came.

"As for the rest of you curs," he grinned darkly. "Let's go catch us some weaklings before they escape."

o o o

Pyrrha peered down the dark corridor. She didn't know why she thought she'd be able to see anything with her Human eyes, really, and so pulled her head back again with an irritated huff of air. "Ren," she implored quietly.

The half-Elf gave her shoulder a gentle pat as he eased past her from the room they were currently crouched warily within. He stood, motionless at the door for the span of a full minute.

"I don't sense anything," he finally murmured over his shoulder. "Not even the movement of air, there might be another door ahead."

"Okay, let's move, then," the redhead ordered.

Ren walked first with Pyrrha right behind him, her left arm on his shoulder while her right clutched her sword determinedly but out to the side so as not to accidentally skewer anyone. She felt Nora's strong hand clasp her own shoulder from behind as they eased their way forward.

Sure enough, they found themselves at another door. Ren paused to listen but eventually shook his head. With a resigned sigh, Pyrrha equipped her shield and shouldered the door open.

Standing in a ring around the doorway and waiting patiently were six Orcs, one of them the massively towering warrior they'd observed from the battle in the main hall.

"'Bout damn time," the big one grunted in the common tongue. He eyed the group as they edged inside the chamber, lit by several sputtering torched along the walls. "Where's the other one?"

Pyrrha set herself into a fighting stance. "What other one?" she asked, scanning the group before her. Two with shields, a variety of melee weapons. Only one with a spear, he'd be the first target, though the big one would prove troublesome. As she formulated her plan of attack, Nora gave her a nudge to the side as she set herself firmly in front of the giant Orc.

The redhead gave an imperceptible nod. Right, he's all yours, Nora.

"S'posed to be five of you curs," the big one finally spoke up again.

"Only four," she stated levelly. "My name is Lady Pyrrha Nikos of the Order of Artemis. This is your only chance to step away from our path."

The Orc Chieftain threw his head back and laughed heartily, soon joined by the rest of his party.

"Whelp, that answers that!" Nora cheered before launching herself forward.

The orange-haired warrior took the Warboss by surprise, though he recovered quickly, moving far more nimbly than his size would suggest. Still, even though the diminutive hammer-wielder only came up barely past his waist, she twirled Magnhild about her waist in a blur, causing him to backpedal. His own battleaxe was barely able to fend off her advance.

Before the other Orcs could give their Chieftain assistance, the others threw themselves into battle as well. Pyrrha sailed in, casually batting aside the spear before skewering the holder through his throat, ripping to the side to ensure his death. She whirled, shield raised to catch the powerful strike of a spiked morningstar which caused her to grunt as she was pushed back a pace. She quickly slid in under his guard and eviscerated the Orc neatly in the small gap where his chestpiece met his belt.

The redheaded Knight ducked to the side, avoiding the overhand strike from a large double-bladed axe. Before she could retaliate, though, Ren was there, battering his foe with precise and powerful strikes of his staff to nearly every exposed limb. After only a heartbeat, the Orc slumped to the ground, his head flopping to the side atop his neck from where the Cleric's staff had broken it.

Jeanne had managed to hold her own even with the shortsword that she was unaccustomed to wielding. Fortunately, the rigorous training within the Order included various bladed weaponry, so she wasn't at that great a disadvantage. Still, only one Orc lay at her feet, bleeding from his empty eye socket, while her shield intercepted the crushing strikes from her other opponent's greatsword. She was unable to get close enough for her shorter-reach weapon to come into play, but Pyrrha saw no reason to stand on formality. With a quick lunge, she scored a hit along the Orc's thigh, causing him to stumble and allow the blonde to finally slip under his guard and plunge her blade past his ring mail armor and into his heart.

As her attacker slumped to the ground, she pulled her sword out, but let out a muted curse as she stumbled back, clutching only the hilt.

"Damned inferior blades," the Knight-in-training muttered, flinging it away and looking about for a suitable replacement.

Pyrrha stepped over to where Ren was observing the still-ongoing duel between Nora and the Warboss. The Orc was limping badly now from a few close calls, the massive warhammer whistling through spaces that he just barely managed to evacuate in time.

"Is she toying with him?" the redhead inquired mildly.

"Not so much, no," Ren replied. "But she is drawing it out a bit."

Pyrrha sighed and raised her voice a bit. "Nora, can we get on with it, please?"

"Oh, fine," the pink-armored warrior huffed. The speed of her strikes increased, ringing against the battleaxe until it momentarily paused. Thinking he finally had an opening, the Warboss lunged forward with a roar, only to be brought up short by the backswing that caught him in the gut. All the air left him in a rush as the sound of several ribs cracking echoed throughout the chamber, and his weapon clattered to the floor beside him. With a gleeful cackle, Nora spun in place and brought Magnhild around to deliver a fierce uppercut, rending the Orc's head clean from his shoulders, along with his massive spiked pauldrons.

"Nicely done, Nora," the redhead complimented her politely.

"Thanks, Pyrrha!"

"My Lady," her squire sighed from behind her. "I'm unable to find a suitable weapon."

Nora walked up, her warhammer hefted in one hand while the other held the equally-enormous battleaxe of the slain warboss. "How about an axe?" she inquired cheerfully.

Jeanne eyed the effervescent girl warily. "No. Thank you, but… No."

Smiling fondly, Pyrrha led them out of the room and into the next passageway. It split off into two directions. They tried the right-hand one first and ended up back in the main hall, facing the towering main doors to the rear of Rockhome. Unwilling to risk coming across any more of the Underdark natives, they party turned and headed in the other direction.

It was almost anticlimactic when they finally found the smaller side entrance in a room similar to the one they'd entered in from the other side of the mountains. The floor there, however, was littered with the dusty remains of a conflict from long ago.

"Eww," Nora exclaimed as she bent over a desiccated corpse, still clad in rotting leather armor. "He's nasty-looking."

"I suppose they tried to gain entrance," Ren mused, looking about with his lighted staff held high. "And were opposed by the new denizens of Rockhome."

"Mostly crossbow bolts," Pyrrha noted idly, looking around at the rusted lumps of armor. "Ambush, perhaps? Well, in any case, let us leave this place without further delay."

"Wait, please," Jeanne murmured from the far end of the room. She was crouched in front of a small alcove, her enchanted dagger held out in front of her.

The redheaded Knight stepped up. "What do you see, Jeanne?"

"Looks like this was the last survivor," she replied softly, indicating the huddled corpse leaning against the wall in the alcove. The body was clad in rusted armor and tattered clothing like the rest of those in the room, but Pyrrha could see what had caught her squire's attention. A longsword was clutched in a skeletal hand, but it shone brightly, not a trace of rust on it.

Pyrrha smiled slightly. "I do not think it would be a disrespect of this poor soul to take up his weapon. He might even appreciate it, were his spirit looking down upon you."

With a resolute nod, Jeanne leaned forward and freed the pristine weapon from the corpse's grip. As she took it by the hilt, it let out a soft hum and began to glow subtly.

The blonde turned towards her Knight with an excited grin. "I'll call her Crocea Mors," she stated happily.

"Her?"

"Er…" Jeanne's grin turned a bit bashful as she stood up, her new weapon held aloft. "Well, yes, I seem to have picked up on some of Ruby's habits."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Pyrrha assured her with a chuckle.

Together the party emerged into the late afternoon sky, the sun casting deep shadows from where it set behind the mountains they had just crossed.

"We'll need to make camp," the redhead stated, leading them down and into the nearby forest.

"And then, on to Vale!" Nora cheered excitedly.

Ren nodded amicably. "With hopefully fewer obstacles."

"And again with the jinxing of us!" Jeanne retorted playfully, her spirits elevated alongside the others as they left behind the tunnels of Rockhome. Her new sword mostly fit into her old sheath, only perhaps an inch of blade showing from the top.

"I'm sure we could all say a small prayer to Oum tonight," Pyrrha assured her squire. "We have a lot to be thankful for."

A/N: Whew! Bit of a longer chapter this time as I'd decided to combine two shorter ones, though the thing in its entirety managed to get away from me (they often do). Flint's character is a little homage to the Dragonlance series by Tracy Hickman and Margaret Weis. Anyone having read the series would recognize the name of Flint Fireforge. I grew up on the first editions of those books.

Next up, we rejoin RWBY for the last chapter in this volume!

Major thanks once more to my lovely Beta, KellyConnely, and hugs all around for you wonderful readers and reviewers, so nice to see some new faces! SeerKing, Sharkdude5, RatedRSuperStar87, Bman000444, ShadowTiger93, Crescent Sunrise, DeamonHunter, Boombox94, Ninjapandas0010, OverDude12, kinigget, thanks for taking the time to leave feedback!

Stay shiny!