Fast Fiction: Flight to Antonica (Part 5)
image source
Go to Part 2 - 6 minute read
Go to Part 3 - 5 minute read
Go to Part 4 - 5 minute read
Roybin Oveel stood over his son sleeping next to the lantern at the end of the pier. A fish wriggled and tugged on the line not hard enough to pull it from Saminel's unconscious grasp. Roybin chuckled. "That boy..." He carried his son back towards the lodge.
Saminel stirred in the fisherman's arms. "Hello, father."
"Good evening to you too, son." He smiled heartily. "You know, it astounds me how you can go a whole day fishing, but not eating."
Saminel's brow furrowed and without opening his eyes he mumbled. "I didn't catch any today."
"Ah, but you did. You must have been sleeping when you hooked'em."
Saminel's blue eyes opened to a starry night sky. His father's burly face smiled down at him. "I did?"
"He's just a little fella, better used as bait than for eaten', but aye. You got one."
Saminel shut his eyes. A warm feeling crept over him.
Daylight had come. The sun danced between the thinning trees as the four entered Butcher Block. Baelerwyn's gait was livelier than usual. The others trailed behind with a little bit of rest, and a new-found hope. They stopped after a few miles at an abandoned dwarven guard post. Gregabor ran his palm along the sheer stone wall. "Strong as ever, if I do say so myself."
"How could it not be? It's little more than a hollowed out stone." The dal sneered.
"Oh, I'm sorry Baelerwyn. Zalmo, why don't you go and pick some nice flowers as decoration for this fine building. It's not pretty enough for our skinny friend here."
"I doubt flowers would mask the smell of dwarf inside." Baelerwyn said to no one in particular.
"And what do we dwarves smell like? I'd like to know."
The elf shrugged. "Difficult to explain to someone with dull sense."
"Oh, come now. You wouldn't leave my feeble thoughts in the dark would ya?"
Zalmo sighed.
Baelerwyn suppressed his smile well. "Imagine if a hill giant had spent an entire night drinking the most horrid of ales. Next imagine your in his sweat-drenched pocket, as you'd fit neatly. Finally, while gasping for air, you realize that he has a problem with his bowels."
Gregabor applauded, and looked to Malphus. "What do ya say, master dwarf. We've a little time for a breather? I'd love to hear more of our new troubadour's poetry."
Malphus looked unimpressed. "I'd say we're about half way to the harbor." He glanced back on the rocky plains they had crossed. "Yes, let's. Everyone stays inside this time. No exceptions." He glared at Zalmo.
"Home, sweet home." Gregabor said as he kicked the door open.
An aqua goblin lunged from inside to bury a broken spear into the dwarf's chest. Gregabor's blade whipped from his scabbard to open the goblin's throat. The dwarf fell onto his back as the goblin grabbed the spurting wound on its neck.
Zalmo screamed, "No!"
Malphus's hammer whooshed through air, clipping the rest of goblin's head clean off its shoulder. His teeth grinded as he darted into the building in search of any others lurking within.
Baelerwyn propped up the dying dwarf. Gregabor tried to speak but the only thing that ushered from his lips was dark bubbling liquid. He raised a hand as he looked into the wood elf's frantic narrow eyes. The dwarf's reaching arm dropped, and Gregabor Razordash fell silent.
Zalmo covered his ears, unbelieving.
Baelerwyn bowed his forehead to that of the clammy dwarf's.
Malphus emerged from the doorway, his hammer hanging low in both hands.
Baelerwyn noticed movement next to another bunker, near a boulder, and over a hill.
There was a much taller aqua goblin with light blue skin and golden hoops dangling from its nose and ears. It dropped from the roof of a neighboring building. They were surrounded and outnumbered by a total of ten.
The tall one choked, "We've been waiting for you, light warrior. He will be pleased with us when we give him that hammer."
Malphus surveyed the horde. Every one of them had a shield held close to their face.
To be continued...
