|
Windhammer, Copyright Wayne Densley 2008 All Rights Reserved
|
223
 As you approach the door the level of your disquiet grows. Not only is the door falling to pieces but it is weighted down by at least a dozen chains and locks. None of the locks are of Dwarvendim origin and each link of each chain has unusual runes and hieroglyphs scratched roughly upon them. For a moment you try and identify the origin of the metalwork but it is unknown to you. All you can say for certain is that something has been placed behind this door, and nobody seems to have been willing to come back and check on it. As you have nowhere to go but forward it seems your fate must be to find out what it is.
Testing the soundness of the door and finding it rotten and insect ridden you strike out with your foot. The timber shatters in a flurry of wood and dust, the chains and locks falling loudly in a heap of tangled, rusting metal on the floor at your feet. Covering your mouth with your hand you peer into the gloom but you can see little. The room beyond the splintered door is dark, quiet and reeking of evil. Lighting another of your torches you throw it into the blackness but, at least in the circle of its faltering light, you can see nothing.
Stepping over the remains of the door you make your way into a room as forbidding as the decrepit door you have just destroyed. A quick look shows the chamber to be circular, about 30 metres in diameter with one door in its western wall. This room is very different from any you have previously encountered in Stoneholme. The walls curve smoothly to a high arched point some 40 metres above you, and all are completely covered in a seamless metal of a kind you do not recognise. You have the distinct impression that it was made to keep something in.
Walking across the wide open floor the room appears deserted. When you reach the door in the western wall it turns out to be locked, there is a handle but no visible keyhole or other mechanism. Grumbling a few choice words about why life should be so hard you begin a search of the edges of the door for any hidden locking devices. Intent on your search you work quietly in the silence until suddenly the ground about you tremors as the loose earthen floor comes to life, rippling and heaving like a stormy sea. Caught by surprise you fall against the near wall and brace yourself against it. Steam hisses shrilly from the quaking earth and a low, groaning vibration builds quickly beneath your feet. Keeping your balance is difficult but you keep your back to the wall as your eyes search the floor looking for danger. It is from the centre of the room that a great mound of earth rises, twisting and contorting into the form of a hideous, malformed beast.
|
This book, and its associated books and other documents in the Chronicles of Arborell series are the intellectual property of the author, Wayne F Densley, and all rights are reserved by him. Windhammer is best viewed at 1024 x 768 resolution. Any questions regarding the Chronicles of Arborell can be answered by emailing the author at densleyw@shoal.net.au
|
Windhammer, Copyright Wayne Densley 2008 All Rights Reserved
|
