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Windhammer, Copyright Wayne Densley 2008 All Rights Reserved
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376
With great care you move to the turn in the tunnel, peer around the corner and gaze out into a huge cavern. Here you find the answer to all your questions regarding the mine. Deep below the surface you have found a large excavation, partly natural and partly cut from the solid bedrock. In the centre of this open space burns a huge fire. Turning slowly over this conflagration is the remains of a Sempaca beast, held on a metal spit, and supported above the fire by a number of strong timbers. It is being turned with great difficulty by a small Morg, who is concentrating on basting the Sempaca's massive carcass as he rotates it slowly over the sputtering embers.
Around the fire sit another two dozen or so of the diminutive creatures, eating and generally engaging in a sometimes violent argument over a cause you cannot fathom. As you watch you find yourself shuddering at the unrestrained energy of their gibbering and fighting. All of the creatures wear the same diminutive armour, dulled leather edged with dark red trim, and all seem emaciated almost to the point of starvation. It is a scene of unrestrained chaos, without apparent leadership or control, and even as you strain for a better look the behaviour of the Hordim degenerates further. In the light of the fire the Morgs' eyes sparkle with a brilliant red gleam, the play of light and shadow twisting their already cruel faces into hideous masks. These small creatures are not the worst of what resides within these stone walls however. As you survey the cavern you see, sitting in a far corner, two enormous Jotun. They are massive creatures dressed in battle armour and eating quietly, apparently uninterested in the wild gesticulations of the Morg.
For a moment you are engrossed in the scene, trying to imprint clear impressions of everything you see in your memory. Although you can do nothing about it now there will come a time when you will have to let someone know of this incursion into the lands of Men. To have such a group within the borders of the Four Nations can only lead to violence and death. As you lean against the cold stone you cannot know how soon that may actually be.
Suddenly your are grasped harshly by the shoulder and shoved out into the full light of the roaring fire. Two dozen pairs of eyes turn in your direction and the cavern becomes silent. In the quiet that follows only the crackling of the cooking Sempaca can be heard...
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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
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Windhammer, Copyright Wayne Densley 2008 All Rights Reserved
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