Legacy of Ruin, Chapter 12, Heart of Steel (8)

“Quiet!” Wheann called over his shoulder. “We’re getting close.”

Llorrin looked around him. His conversation had left him distracted, so only now did he fully realize they’d left the forest. There were only few trees around them now, and high grass covered the ground instead of mud. The sea stretched out far below him, to his left, and from a distance he could already see the inlet, cutting into the cliffs that bordered the coast. A rocky path descended steeply towards the foot of the cliff, towards a thin strip of beach. When he squinted, Llorrin could see the cave entrance opposite from him, on the far side of the inlet. It was big, large enough to fit a ship through for certain, and it had jagged edges, like the gaping beak of a ghoul. Llorrin tried to catch a glimpse of any of his men that might have already made it there, but at this distance he couldn’t make any of them out.

They veered right to go deeper inland and steer clear of any prying eyes as they moved to approach the cave from the other side. Llorrin thought he could already hear the first faint sounds of battle in the distance. He urged the others to quicken their pace, much to the dismay of Wheann, who was still leading them. They skirted the edge of the swamp and then headed back to the beach, effectively going in a long arch.

“You take over from here,” Wheann told Llorrin, without even giving him a look. Llorrin felt it was past time they had a serious talk, but then again he knew now was not the right moment.

“This had better go well,” Jeredan muttered.

The closer they came to the shore, the quieter everyone became. By the time they laid eyes on the sea again everyone had gone so quiet Llorrin could hear the faint rustling of the wind. Every so often the sound of musket fire off to the east broke the silence, which made Llorrin want to break into a run.

They found a descent towards the shore here as well,  towards a patch of beach that was possibly even smaller than the one on the other side. At least on this side the beach ran all the way to the back of the cave. Every time a rock slipped beneath their feet Llorrin imagined it hitting the water and hundreds of murlocs jumping out of the water in response.

“We should’ve attacked from this side,” Duke said as soon as they’d set foot on the beach.

“Tha entrance be too small fer that, ye scunner, ye’d die in droves tryin’ ta get in,” Borax said.

“Shut up, both of you, you want the murlocs to hear us?” Wheann said in a small voice.

“Something tells me they’re a little preoccupied right now,” Duke chuckled.

Duke was right. Llorrin could hear the sounds of battle on the other side of the cave more clearly now. He was able to make out the gunshots coming from the top of the cliff as well. Every time the rifles rang out the sound bashed against his eardrums painfully. A chilling wind coming out from sea washed over him, and he could feel his heart thumping against his chest as they approached the narrow cave entrance on this side. It was but a crack in the rock, small enough to get Llorrin worried about whether or not Jeredan was even going to fit in there. He figured that if the dwarves had carried in their materials through this entrance, they must have only brought smaller materials through here, and carried anything larger in by sea.

The inside of the cave was pitch black, so Llorrin couldn’t even see inside. What he could tell was that they were most likely going to have to go in a single file.

“Torches,” he ordered, and Captain Willow’s men, who had come prepared, quickly obeyed, lighting one torch each.

“Dagren and Jeredan, you take point,” he continued, thinking it a good idea to put the toughest, most armoured members of the infiltration team up front.  The cave was big, but didn’t seem big enough to risk getting lost, so there was no real need for Borax to go first. Jeredan took a torch from Wyll and went ahead, but Dagren didn’t budge. He was staring at the darkness warily.

“Dagren?” Llorrin asked.

The paladin turned away. “You go in, I’ll keep any of them from sneaking up behind you,” he said.

“What? You can't do that! What if any of us are wounded? You have to come with us,” Llorrin said.

“This is hardly the time to back out on us,” Elena said, nudging the paladin against the shoulder irritably, but Dagren didn’t react.

“We have no time for this,” Wyll said, his eyes shifting from the cave entrance to Dagren and back.

Whatever fear had suddenly gripped Dagren, Llorrin knew he couldn’t afford not having the paladin with him. The holy light was a powerful ally in battle, and Dagren was the only one who could wield it. He took him aside, stopping a small distance away from the others.

“Hey, what the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, trying to make eye contact, but Dagren avoided him by looking at his feet.

“I’m not going in there,” the paladin said, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“But why?" Llorrin said, trying to get his head around this unexpected issue. Dagren had only started to waver once they'd reached the cave. "Does it have something to do with this cave?” Llorrin said, looking at the cave bewildered. Sure, it wasn’t paradise, but it should hardly be scary enough to keep a seasoned paladin out. He took Dagren’s silence for a ‘yes’.

“You knew what you were in for long before we left camp. Why on earth would you back out now?”

“Yeah, I knew, I knew, but… I didn’t know, that it was going to be like… like this, you know,” Dagren said, gesturing at the cave before staring off into the distance with a pained grimace.  It seemed like he could barely even look at it.

Even if you force him to come with you anyway, he won’t be all there, Llorrin thought. He didn’t understand what had gotten into him, but he did understand the implications. Bringing Dagren in his current state could jeopardize everyone, and every minute they wasted Willow’s men were being put under more and more pressure.

“You go ahead and guard our backs, then. We’ll just have to mind not to get hurt,” Llorrin said sarcastically, clenching a fist as he walked away. Why did his plans always get ruined by unforeseen circumstances? This setback didn't bode well for the rest of the mission. He had to try hard not to shake his head in wonder. If they both survived he was going to have to have a word with Dagren about this, but for now it was going to have to wait.

Dagren nodded, but with little enthusiasm, staring out across the coastline as Llorrin returned to the others.

“Let’s go,” Llorrin said, taking the torch from Jeredan and going in first instead of Dagren. The small tunnel went straight ahead. He heard Jeredan struggle to get in through the small space behind him, but luckily the tunnel quickly grew larger.

“Hey, what’s going on? He’s not coming?” Jeredan asked, trying to grab him by the shoulder, but Llorrin had anticipated it and already hurried on ahead. The rocky surface of the cave was humid and slippery and he had to watch his every step, trying to stay out of arm’s reach of Jeredan. The warrior had more trouble squeezing through the caverns in his armour than Llorrin did, but he nevertheless gained on Llorrin after a while, grabbing him by the shoulder again and pulling him closer.

“Do you have any idea of the risk you’re taking?” Jeredan said close to his ear.

Llorrin wanted to turn around and shake Jeredan off, when he thought he heard something. Jeredan seemed to have heard it too, for he let go. He swung the torch to the side, discovering a small side corridor to his right. He lowered the torch a little. There, crumpled together in a heap on the ground, was what seemed to be a man. Llorrin hurried closer, the torchlight revealing that it was indeed a man who was being held in the cave. The prisoner was bound by his hands and feet with seaweed and lying in what looked like a pool of his own blood. If not for the soft coughing sounds he made Llorrin would have certainly taken him for dead.

He knelt down beside the man, surprised to find he was wearing the uniform of a Kul Tiras marine. Dirty, bloodstained and torn as it was, it was difficult to recognize. The dark green was stained with taints of red: dried and fresh blood both. A broken shield and sword lay at the far end of the cave. As he moved closer Llorrin saw the man was trying to speak, or call out maybe, rather than coughing due to illness. One wide open, grey eye stared up at Llorrin, the other was swollen and almost black. The sight was made just a little less gruesome by the black hair that fell over it, partially covering the bruise, but it was still enough to make Llorrin’s stomach turn. His own eye tingled, and he realized how close he’d come to losing it.

“W… Wa… ter…” the marine rasped.

“’es done fer. Finish ‘im off an’ be done with it,” Borax said, fidgeting with the leather straps on the end of his axe. For once Jeredan seemed to agree with the dwarf. Nevertheless Llorrin reached for the flask on his hip, unscrewing it and putting it to the man’s swollen lips. He couldn’t know how long he’d been here, so he only let the prisoner – for that was what Llorrin assumed he was – have a small sip before he moved the flask away again, reaching for his knife instead.

He almost regretted giving the man the water he’d asked for, because he’d started coughing more violently again. Llorrin looked at the seaweed. It had been bound around the marine’s ankles and wrists tightly, and blood was slowly tickling out from between the weed. The way the marine was coughing and convulsing, Llorrin was at risk of cutting into his flesh if he tried to rid him of his bonds, and he might attract the attention of any murlocs that were still wandering the caves. The knife felt heavy in his hand. He made a decision.

“Jeredan, heal him,” he said, his own voice sounding distant to him. He felt a shock going through the group.

Jeredan crossed his arms.

“I’m positive I didn’t hear that right. Did you mean ‘kill him’?”

Llorrin fixed his eyes on Jeredan.

“You heard me.”

Jeredan scowled. “You know that I don’t-”

“I know you don’t want anyone to know you can heal people, but now’s not the time for that bullshit. Heal him or I’ll shoot you in the foot and leave you here to rot, understand?!” Llorrin said. His gaze lingered on Jeredan, and as the warrior stared back he knew there was going to be hell to pay, but that was something he’d have to worry about later. Right now, he felt the prisoner didn’t have much longer to live if no one did anything.

“This is why we should’ve brought Dagren! I told you, but you wouldn’t listen!” Jeredan rumbled, seemingly not caring about whether the murlocs could hear him or not, before he knelt down to do his job. He held out his armoured fists, muttering incantations as Llorrin had seen him do when he’d asked him to heal Irewyth after she’d been stabbed and Carekon had fallen ill. That seemed like ages ago now. Bright light erupted from his gauntlets, streaming forward into the prisoner’s body. The man stopped coughing, his injuries slowly healing, but not disappearing completely. When the prisoner had calmed down and stopped coughing Jeredan got up and walked away to the edge of the cave, nearly knocking Allard over on the way. Wheann, who’d been guarding the cave entrance nervously and had not paid much attention to what was happening inside stared on in wonder, then turned to Llorrin.

“So Jeredan can do more than just hurt people? And you were going to let us in on this when?” the half-elf asked Llorrin.

Ishrien's mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Does this mean he could’ve healed me after he punched me?”

“He didn’t want anyone to know. It’s… complicated,” Llorrin said, kneeling down to cut the prisoner's bonds. Now that he'd stopped coughing, it was an easier task to remove the seaweed. He moved his dagger like a saw, careful not to pull the weeds deeper into the prisoner's flesh. When they finally came off the marine pressed his lips together, trying not to scream as the numbness faded away from his hands and feet, making the pain worse. Llorrin was beginning to feel seriously fed up with Wheann’s constant anger towards him, though part of him still regretted losing a friend. His trail of thought was cut off when he saw the prisoner smile, much to his surprise. Despite the miserable state he was in, he seemed content to just be alive, testing his limbs and seeing if all his fingers were still attached. He took the time to rub some life back into his limbs before he got up.

“I knew I still had a chance,” the man said softly, wiping the hair away from his eye, which had not healed completely, but was at least no longer as badly swollen or dark as before. “The murlocs that were guarding me left when the fighting started on the other side of the cave. I tried to call out when I saw the light of your torches.” He gave a little nudge of the head in the direction the sound of the fighting was coming from. “I assume that’s our guys making all that ruckus?”

“Indeed it is,” Llorrin said, wondering what the prisoner meant by ‘our guys’. Was this guy one of the marines he’d picked up at Theramore?

“That’s all well and good, but we have a ship to commandeer and someone who looks like he can barely walk on our hands,” Captain Fairmount said as she walked deeper into the cave, looking at Llorrin, then at the prisoner. “I also don’t know of any murlocs who take prisoners,” she said with slight suspicion.

“Oh, I can walk,” the marine said. He grimaced as he took a step, but nevertheless looked happy enough to have proven the point. “I thought I was done for when the murlocs caught me. Look, there’s something you should know-” he said urgently.

“Jake?” Wheann suddenly interrupted as he looked at the marine, peering through the relative darkness.

“Wheann,” Jake acknowledged the half-elf, no longer smiling.

“Weren’t you supposed to be dead?” Fairmount asked, crossing her arms.

“Sorry to disappoint you, ma’am” Jake said, involuntarily reaching up to the torn spot on his shirt, near his heart. Fresh blood still stained the cloth around the wound. “But yes, everything considered, I suppose I should’ve been dead. The murlocs took me prisoner. I didn’t understand it myself, until-”

“I hope you didn’t tell ‘em anythin’,” Borax threatened.

Duke laughed. “Murlocs don’t interrogate people, dwarf. They can’t even speak properly.”

“Unless you consider Nerglish a language,” Wyll muttered with a sly grin.

“No, they actually did,” Jake insisted, and Llorrin could see some of the panic in his eyes he’d seen when he first entered the cave returning at the memory. “There’s some sort of creature leading them, something… different from the others. I haven’t been able to see it properly, but it’s big. I’ve heard it speak Common.”

Llorrin’s heart skipped a beat. “They didn’t know we were coming, did we?” he asked. From his injuries, it seemed obvious Jake had been tortured.

Jake shook his head. “I told them we were scouts from the city looking for pirates, captain, nothing more.”

“So this is Jake. I’m surprised none of you recognized him sooner,” Llorrin said, looking at Borax in particular.

“Pah. All ye humans look da same ta me. Long, lanky, not enuff meat on yar bones…”

“We need to get a move on,” Llorrin said, considering his options.

“He’s in no shape to fight. He should return to Dagren and get healed up,” Duke said.

“I’m not going back,” Jake said before anyone else could speak a word. Everyone looked at him in confusion. “I may be wounded, but I’m not a cripple. Besides, these murlocs have a lot to answer for. It’s payback time.”

“Fine, then. Let’s go,” Llorrin, who didn’t care to discuss this any longer, said as Jake picked his shield up from the ground. It was battered and partially broken, but it looked like it could still serve. The broken sword, however, was beyond repair. Llorrin hesitated for a moment, then handed him his cutlass. After all, he still had the two-hander, his pistols and his knife. Jake stared at the sword as he tested its weight, looking at the ice orb that was circling it in particular.

“Can’t say I’ve had one of these before. My very own magical sword,” he gloated. Llorrin wondered if his imprisonment had made him delirious. Considering what he must have been through, he was taking everything very lightly.

“It’s just the orb that’s magical, not the sword,” he pointed out.

“Sshhh, you’re ruining the moment,” Jake said.

Llorrin wondered how anyone could make jokes in a situation like this, but he smiled at the comment nevertheless. Borax now took the lead and they followed in his stride through the narrow dark corridors. Whereas he’d been tripping over branches and rocks in the forest Borax seemed to have much better footing inside the cave, something Llorrin felt thankful for. If they didn’t want to alert the murlocs, Borax’s incessant swearing was the last thing they needed.  

Llorrin could almost feel some sympathy for Dagren’s reluctance to enter the cave as they went on. The space was confining, and the heat of the torches so close to his face made it difficult to breathe. He bumped his head at least twice, and his shoulders and limbs often scraped against the side of the wall. Much to Llorrin’s, and especially Jeredan’s relief they soon got a bit more space to move.

They entered a sizable compartment of the cave that split off in two directions. The size of the cave surprised him,  and Llorrin was beginning to suspect more and more that this had been an abandoned mine of sorts, or maybe an old pirate’s nest. Water dripped down slowly from the ceiling, and he could feel the cold of a puddle in the middle of the cave against his boots. Even with the torchlight it was still relatively dark, but Llorrin could make out some boxes and barrels stacked to either side. Borax stopped for a moment to check over his shoulder, which was only the first time he’d done so since he’d taken the lead.

“We be getting’ close. This cave be where we kept our err – supplies. Woulda loved ta take some ov it with me, but with tha situation bein’ what it is…” Borax said with a hint of genuine sadness, giving Llorrin a hint as to what these ‘supplies’ exactly were.

“Why not drink it all now? I hear dwarves fight good when drunk,” Jake japed.

Llorrin was about to tell them to keep their voices down when he thought he saw something moving behind one of the crates. He wanted to shout a warning but an unmistakable gurgling sound, rising up from several throats, cut him off. From behind the crates they jumped, bipedal creatures who were all teeth and eyes in the darkness, with short, sinewy appendages that clasped roughly crafted coral blades and shields. They bore a distinct likeness to the mur’gul who had aided the naga in attacking their ships, and they fought with just as much fanaticism and aggression, launching themselves at the party like a pack of rabid wolves that hadn’t eaten for days.

“Defend yourselves!” Llorrin shouted, swinging his torch at the closest murloc, and the beast recoiled, snapping its jaws at him swinging its body up while covering its eyes with his shield. The beast aimed its blade at him like a spear and rushed forward. Instinctively Llorrin reached for his pistol and fired, but the shot shattered on the murloc’s coral shield. The murloc charged at him and he sidestepped its charge, hoping he wasn’t sending it straight into an ally. He held out his leg, tripping the nimble creature before bashing down on it with the torch, the murlocs’ scream getting lost in the puddle below. Before he could ascertain whether or not he’d killed the creature another was already upon him, lunging at him from behind. Llorrin blocked the creatures’ coral blade with his torch, inches away from his face, then pivoted around to deliver a crushing blow to the side of the murlocs’ head with the side of his pistol. In the relative darkness the scuffle became confusing, especially when Allard dropped his torch to draw his sword. The murlocs were so many and so aggressive that Llorrin didn’t even get a chance to draw his twohander, and he had to rely on kicks and punches to keep the beasts off of him.

He ducked just in time to dodge a murloc that leaped at him and, instinctively feeling he had a moment’s reprieve, put away his pistol and pulled out his knife. He was almost immediately made to regret this move as the murloc who had jumped him came back at him with surprising speed, cutting him along the back of his knee. He knew that if he fell he was done for, and it took all of his willpower to stay on his feet, but he nevertheless managed to jam his knife into the murloc’s eye before it could pass him by.

As he was wrenching his knife free something hit him in the back, throwing him forward. Llorrin more or less kept control by rolling on his side and immediately raising to one knee to face whoever struck him. This murloc was bigger than the others, with purple skin and bright red eyes. It didn’t storm him mindlessly but waited with its shield raised and its coral blade held down alongside its leg.

Llorrin’s companions were still fighting, so he pushed himself forward, rushing the creature and hitting its shield off to the side with the torch while pulling the dagger back for a stab. He stabbed into the opening he’d created, but the nimble creature hopped back, bringing its blade up for a slash. Llorrin saw the blade about to come down on him and realized his momentum had put him at a disadvantage, when a huge shadow fell over the creature. Jeredan’s sword came out of the darkness, cutting the murloc from the top down and nearly splitting it in two. Then silence fell.

Llorrin looked around. Wheann was cleaning off his knives, Fairmount was wrenching her axe free from a dead murloc, Borax was rummaging through a crate and Ishrien stood still like a statue. She had a look that was somewhere in between focus and confusion on her face. There was not a scratch on her, but from the look of her it seemed she had no idea how she had managed to stay alive. In the chaos of the fight he'd lost sight of his companions, so he was glad to see most of them were still standing. Most of them…

“Duke’s dead,” Wyll said. The big man’s body lay in the middle of the puddle, surrounded by blood that oozed from several deep wounds in his back. The young Allard was sitting next to him with a look of despair on his face. Llorrin hadn’t known the man well, but the loss of someone acting under his command still stung.

“Jeredan?” he asked.

Jeredan gave Duke one look and then shook his head. “I can’t bring back the dead. You’d all better keep that in mind."

Llorrin tore his eyes away from the corpse, but the sight of it remained before his mind's eye. “Leave him. We have to push on.”