The City of Towers: The Dreaming Dark - Book I (12 page)

“It’s not likely that Uncle Jura is sending us into a bad neighborhood to be slaughtered and killed?”

“Daine …” Lei sighed. “I trust him.” She considered a moment, then added, “Well, more or less.”

“You fought an army of Darguul raiders at Sennan Rath, Captain,” Pierce said calmly. “This can hardly be as dangerous of a situation.”

“Spoken like a man who still has all of his weapons.” Daine shot a glance at Jode, who at least had the grace to look embarrassed. “But you’re right. Still, it sounds like we should stay together for this. Afterwards we’ll split up to investigate Daggerwatch and Hareth’s Folly, and meet back here for dinner with Lord Teral.”

The others nodded.

“Very well,” Daine said, as Jode gathered the papers and Lei picked up the staff. “Let’s go talk to the wind.”

H
igh Walls, the newfound home of the Cyran refugees in Sharn, was a depressing ghetto. For decades, the government of Sharn had worried only about maintaining the gates and the guards and not about the comfort of those trapped behind the walls. Poverty, fear, and uncertainty were a part of everyday life.

Compared to Malleon’s Gate, it was paradise.

When human settlers first came to Khorvaire, they found the remains of a great goblin empire—a civilization shattered long ago and left to ruin. Hobgoblins and bugbears lurked in the mountains and harsh lands, while goblins remained in the ruins of their ancient cities. But the humans of Sarlona were determined to claim this new land as their own. When Malleon the Reaver landed on the shores of the Dagger River, he enslaved the local goblins and forced them to work on his fortress city—a city that would be destroyed in the War of the Mark. Six hundred years later, King Galifar began work on the new city of Sharn, and he promised freedom to all goblins who would serve him as soldiers and laborers. But few human inhabitants of the city ever accepted the goblins as true equals, and racial violence was an everyday occurrence. Eventually, most of Sharn’s goblins settled in a single district, trusting in numbers to provide safety and shelter. But safety and prosperity were two different things.

While Malleon’s Gate had always been a place of poverty and misery, it was only over the last century that it had become truly dangerous. Two new nations had arisen in the wake of the Last War, taking advantage of the chaos and the fragmentation of the proud army of Galifar. Cyre and Breland had both used goblinoid mercenaries in the war, drawing the cunning hobgoblins and powerful bugbears down from the mountains to augment their armies. Eventually these creatures outnumbered the human soldiers in the eastern front. The hobgoblins ruled Khorvaire long before humanity had arrived, and a charismatic warlord was determined to use the fall of Galifar as a stepping stone for the future of his people. He managed to win the loyalty of many of the other mercenary chieftains, and at a critical point in the war the soldiers turned on both sides and laid claim to the territory they were supposed to be protecting, proclaiming the new nation of Darguun. With the Last War at its height, neither Breland nor Cyre could afford to retaliate. Both still needed goblin troops, though the commanders were considerably more cautious about the concentration of such forces. Even now, with the war winding to a close, the remnants of the five nations lacked the resources or resolve to move against Darguun. Representatives of the hobgoblin king were seated at the Council of Thronehold, debating the future of Khorvaire. A number of former and current mercenaries had settled in Sharn, and they naturally gravitated towards the greatest concentration of their own kind. But where the city goblins of Sharn tried to avoid conflict with the human citizens, the Darguuls viewed humanity with disdain. The Sharn Watch had long ago abandoned the Gate, and any human or elf who entered the district was on his own.

But the hobgoblins were not the only creatures to emerge from the shadows of the war. All manner of monsters—harpies, ogres, trolls, and even more terrible things—filled the lands around the Byeshk Mountains. Even the knights of Galifar had avoided the haunted woods and wastes of this land. While it had always been a place of dark legend, the horrors of Droaam never reached into the lands beyond—until the Last War. Over the last century, three terrible sisters—each hag a legend in her
own right—seized control of the region and began to reshape and transform it, creating a nation from raw chaos. Over the last two decades the creatures of Droaam began to appear in the eastern lands, selling their services. Gargoyle scouts and couriers could be invaluable, and many businesses could use the raw strength of an ogre laborer. The monstrous population of Sharn had grown over the last few years, and while most of these creatures preferred to live in the tunnels beneath the city, a fair number had settled in Malleon’s Gate, adding to both the color and danger of the district.

Over the course of the war, Daine had fought many Darguul warriors, and he could smell the aggression in the smoky air of Malleon’s Gate. On his command, the group drew weapons as soon as they entered the district. With an arrow nocked in his massive longbow, Pierce took up the rear. Lei was resplendent in green leather vest studded with gold; this was an heirloom of her house, and the golden rivets were especially receptive to the temporary enchantments she could produce. She held the darkwood staff at the ready. Jode was a healer by trade, but he had served as a scout and could fight when he had to. Though his sword would be little more than a knife in the hands of a man, it was finely-crafted and razor sharp. Daine had his dagger drawn, the adamantine blade catching the guttering torchlight, and for the hundredth time he cursed sword-pawning halflings.

Malleon’s Gate, one of the oldest districts in Sharn, had served as a ghetto since the earliest days of Sharn, and its age was obvious even to the casual observer. The stonework was rough and angular in comparison to the smooth curves of Tavick’s Landing and Menthis Plateau. Mold and mildew covered the walls, inside and out. If there had ever been cold fire lanterns in the district, they had been shattered or stolen long ago. Most of the denizens of the Malleon’s Gate could see in the dark, and outsiders had to find there way by the light of a few smoky torches.

The narrow streets were full of noise and chaos. Goblins were everywhere—haggling, arguing, or simply shouting in the harsh Goblin tongue. A massive bugbear forced its way through a pack of goblins, flinging the smaller creatures left
and right. By contrast, when a trio of heavily armed hobgoblins emerged from a dingy tavern, the crowd instantly parted. Clearly the warriors of Darguun were not to be trifled with. The commander of the trio met Daine’s eyes, and for a moment the former adversaries studied one another; then the moment passed, and the soldiers sauntered down the street. Daine breathed a sigh of relief. There could be any number of Darguuls within shouting distance, and if blood was spilled there was no telling how quickly the situation would escalate.

“So where do we find this broken church?” he said, glancing back at Lei.

“I’m afraid my family never visited Malleon’s Gate on my trips to Sharn,” said Lei. “Perhaps you should ask for directions.”

Daine studied the few bystanders. “Somehow I think we’d be more likely to get a knife in the gut than useful advice. Let’s keep on.”

They explored the streets. Gleaming red eyes watched suspiciously from the shadows, but Daine kept his dagger in view and no one approached. On one street, a sharp shriek pierced the gloom as a harpy passed overhead. The half-human creature spun around and a ball of spit and phlegm struck Daine in the face.

Daine grabbed Pierce’s arm before the warforged could release an arrow. “Let it go,” he said. “We’re the outsiders here.” He wiped his face and rubbed his hand on his cloak.

Turning a corner they came upon a granite statue of a club-wielding goblin, its face frozen in rage. “I’m not sure about the taste,” Jode said, “but it’s nice to see an attempt to bring a little artistic flair to the region.”

“It’s not a statue,” said Lei. She studied the perfect lines of the statue. “This unfortunate fellow was once very much alive. Something changed him to stone. Medusa, unless I miss my guess. Though I suppose it could be a basilisk.”

Jode stumbled, and looking down found that he had tripped over the arm of a shattered second statue. “Lovely! Can we get this over with? Dinner with Councilor Teral is sounding more attractive every minute.”

The next living residents they encountered were a pair of
goblins—a male and a female—engaged in a heated debate. Sheathing his dagger, Jode walked over and hailed them in the Goblin tongue—somehow managing to make even that harsh language seem cheerful. The goblins were momentarily dumbfounded by the interruption, but their demeanor changed once Jode produced a few copper crowns. The male goblin reached for the coins with a snarl, but as he did his companion struck him in the head with a mighty double-fisted blow and he sank senseless to the ground. The woman took the coins and engaged in a brief, animated conversation.

Jode returned to the group, and the goblin dragged her fallen comrade out of the street.

“What did she say?” Lei asked.

“She said that she sympathized, as her fool of a husband wouldn’t ask for directions either.” Jode grinned. “But I’ve got directions, and I’d say there’s at least half-odds that she was telling the truth.”

“Lead on, then.”

The broken church had been abandoned long ago, its holy trappings stripped away and only bare fragments remaining of the once-beautiful windows of colored crystal. Fire and acid had scarred the walls. On the steps, two monsters were engaged in a brutal battle.

One was a minotaur—at least eight feet tall. Powerful muscles rippled beneath a sleek coat of black fur. He wore a black loincloth embroidered with golden sigils, and his long horns were bound with bands of brass. His opponent was a bugbear—a seven-foot blend of ursine and goblin features. His light brown fur was unkempt and patchy, his clothes torn, and one of his fangs was missing. The two were fighting barehanded, and it was clear that the bugbear was getting the worst of it. Studying the steps, Daine noticed the bugbear’s missing fang lying a few feet away.

Daine could see that the bugbear was barely standing. The minotaur ended the battle with a single mighty head butt. The bugbear fell down the steps, blood streaming from nose and
mouth. It did came to a stop, its head resting on the second step, and did not move again.

The minotaur studied its fallen foe for a moment, then looked over at Daine. “Move on, outsiders,” he rumbled, his voice hoarse and deep. “You have no business here.”

“On the contrary,” Jode said, skipping forward. “We were sent to … well, talk to the wind. Is that you? We have a gift.”

Lei held up the staff.

The minotaur roared, and Daine had almost grabbed Jode before he realized that the creature was laughing.

“You
would enter?” The minotaur snorted. “You think you can defeat me?”

Daine felt foolish challenging this juggernaut with his tiny dagger, but its keen edge had served him well. “Watch your tone. Size isn’t everything. There’s four of us to your one, and you’re not even armed. So why don’t you step aside?”

The monster fixed Daine with its inhuman eyes. “Don’t threaten me, little human. I am appointed to guard this gate, and only I can open it. You face me or you do not pass. One person. No weapons. One chance.”

Daine stepped back and turned to his companions. “What do you think?” he said quietly. “I know when I’m outmatched. Pierce?”

“I’m willing to try, Captain.”

“No. I’ll do it.” It was Lei. The other three looked over, surprised.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jura said this person wanted to see
me
. He gave me the staff. For all we know, I
have
to do it.”

Daine blinked. “Yes, but …” He glanced back as the minotaur lifted up the unconscious bugbear and threw him from the steps. “What are you going to do against
that?”

“He said no weapons. I can handle that better than you can. Trust me, Daine. With all that I’ve been through the last two days, I’m going to enjoy this.”