The Sassquatch's Lair

Chapter 9

When Ludger woke up, he felt as weak as a newborn baby. His mind was so foggy that he had the impression of having slept for years. He tentatively stirred on the soft feather mattress.

From somewhere in the room he heard the patter of small feet on the tiled floor. He did not have the strength to open his eyes, to investigate the sound. He decided that it would be easier to sleep it off. He sighed and proceeded to do just that.

A few hours later he had a passing moment of lucidity, where he remembered the dark eyes of Leta, looking worriedly at him. The next day, when his mind finally crawled back out of unconsciousness, the first thing that he saw was a pair a dark eyes.

Thinking that they were Leta’s he grinned and winked at her, mumbling an off-colour comment. As his mind cleared he realized that he was grinning like a lovesick puppy at Kurden. The dwarf was studying him, concern showing on his broad face.

When the dwarf decided that Ludger had recovered sufficiently, his face lit up and broke into a wide smile.
“I will take note,” He said. “of what you suggested. But I can tell you right now that you are not my type…. Welcome back to the land of the living, my friend. You have scared us in the last few days. I did not think that you were so sensitive and such a powerful conduit for magic.”

“What happened? How long have I been sleeping?” Ludger queried in a thin raspy voice.

“You collapsed after the last ceremony. So much magic flowed through you, and was amplified by you, that you were almost consumed by the backlash of energy when the magical connection with Vulcan was broken when you collapsed in total exhaustion.”

Andrack, who was now standing behind the dwarf, said.

“It took all of my skills to bring back your mind from the void it had been thrown into.”

“I was not aware of anything. It only felt like I was sleeping.”

All of his friends visited him and inquired about his health. Bacchus came in with Dregnar. She nuzzled him while whimpering softly. Ludger spent a long time petting her soft fur, very glad to feel someone from his own world close to him.

A servant brought him a meal tray, that he shared with his dog. He was feeling homesick and depressed. His gloomy contemplation was interrupted by Andrack, who was coming to check on him. The wizard was holding a small silver flask. He offered it to Ludger.

“This is a special tonic that will get you back on your feet overnight. We cannot delay our quest much longer. The blizzard should be lifting tomorrow. We must be on our way.”

Ludger took the small flask from the wizard and unscrewed the cap. A pungent effluvium greeted his nostrils. With a frown, he said.

“I know that to be effective a medicine should taste bad. But this is ridiculous.”

“Come on, drink up, you will feel like a new man tomorrow.”

“I like the one that I am, now. I don’t want to turn into Mr. Hyde.”

Not comprehending the literary allusion, Andrack looked at him quizzically.

“Forget it.” Ludger said. “Its a long story.”

He pinched his nose and rapidly gulped down the content of the flask. The taste was not as bad as the smell, but it was still fairly potent. Soon a warm glow settled in his stomach. It rapidly started to spread. He grew tired. He fell back, in the bed, asleep before even hitting the pillows.

Andrack recuperated his flask and recorked it. With the help of Leta, who had just come in, he gently tucked Ludger in his bed.

*

The next morning, Ludger woke up early and felt so full of energy that he thought he could take on Magdar singlehandedly. After a quick shower he dressed in his own clothes. He went into the corridor in search of Kurden. He found the dwarf checking on the horses, making sure they were saddled and packed properly. He warmly greeted Ludger and urged him to join the others for breakfast.

After a hearty meal, Ludger was brought to a small room to meet one of the priests. This man would present him with his magic weapons. After a short chant, the priest anointed Ludger’s forehead with a scented balm. He ceremoniously gave him his sword, knife and chainmail.

Kurden joined them to instruct Ludger into the proper wear of the lightweight mail. The pliable metal mesh was of a soft golden hue. It was of light weight, like aluminium, and felt like a soft, thick, airy fabric. It was cut like a long tunic, reaching bellow the knees, with three-quarter length sleeves and an attached hood.

Ludger slipped on the strange garment. It fitted him perfectly. He voiced his concern to Kurden, that he was not able to reach into the many pockets of his vest and pants. The dwarf leader showed him how to remodel his garment to open up for him, at any place that he wished. With a bit of meditation and the judicious use of his fingernails, the mail would open up, only for him, like hook and loop fasteners. He was also showed how to gather the garment in a seam between his legs and to split that seam to form a pair of riding britches.

The chainmail would react to any outside force with a counterforce that was proportional, thus preventing any harm to the wearer. In simple terms, the harder you pushed on it, the harder it would become. This newfangled armour was completed by a pair of thin, leather palmed, metal meshed, gloves and knee-high boots of subtle leather, in which were sewn thin strips of metal to protect legs and feet.

Ludger buckled his heavy gunbelt around his hips, slung his new sword over his shoulder and tied the scabbard of his kukri sideways to the back of his gunbelt, so that the handle could be easily reached by his right hand.

He pulled the tight fitting hood over his head. After donning the light gloves, he practised drawing his sword until it smoothly flowed into his hands. The sword could detect black magic and made its presence known to Ludger, by a subtle vibration of its handle.

Ludger looked at himself in a tall looking glass. He burst out laughing. In his exotic get-up, he cut a dashing figure. He looked like a cross between a Samurai warrior, Robin Hood and Rambo. He profusely thanked the priest and Kurden for his sensational new weapons. He rejoined Arexis and the others, who were ready to go. His arrival created quite a commotion. Andrack said in a booming voice.

“Now you finally look the part of the mythical hero.”

Arexis added.

“I am sure that with a dashing warrior like you, we will prevail in our quest.”

Not being sure if they were serious or making fun of him, Ludger said in a hurt tone.

“Its easy for you to say, but I feel foolish dressed in this carnival outfit.”

Dregnar replied, apologetically.

“Master Ludger, do not listen to them. You do look like a hero and Bacchus and I will serve you faithfully.”

Hearing her name, Bacchus barked to emphasize the point.

“I am touched by your feelings, but would you please stop calling me Master Ludger.”

“If you desire so…, Master Ludger.”

Frustrated, Ludger walked away amidst the laughter of his companions. The ranks of the Prince’s guards had been augmented by ten or so dwarf soldiers leading solidly built small horses. Ludger bid farewell to Leta and her sisters, who stood in the palace’s courtyard tears in their eyes. He kissed each of the girls on the forehead and thanked them for their hospitality. To Leta, he gave a small photograph of him and his dog standing in front of his house. He said in a soft voice.

“I will always cherish the memory of you. Our paths must sadly part, but for the short time they were together you made this alien world a better place for me. Goodbye….”

Ludger embraced the young girl and sombrely walked to his waiting horses. Kurden gave the signal to depart. They slowly led their horses out of the gates and down the main avenue. Ludger felt a little nervous. The previous day, Dregnar had told him stories about cave ghouls, that haunted the long abandoned mining tunnels. Through mimicry they could lure unsuspecting travellers from their parties, to steal their lifeblood.

The tunnels, that they would follow were a veritable maze. But the dwarves had an uncanny sense of direction, that would never lead them astray in their underground forays. This closeness with the earth’s forces was the source of their magic and of their incredible success in prospecting for metal ore.

As they walked through the large underground city, Ludger noticed groups of dwarves, assembled around large fire pits, singing, drinking strong ale and swapping stories of daring do’s. Obviously stories travelled fast because he heard the highly embellished tales of an alien warrior killing bandybears and kraken with a thunderstick. As he was recognized, he was cheered-on by the jovial dwarves. Ludger caught up with Andrack. He inquired.

“How good is our chances of retrieving the sceptre? Is it protected by magic or physical obstacles?”

“I am cautiously optimistic. The king must always make the pilgrimage to the Source. It is rendered more complicated by the length of time since Bluthor’s demise and the drying up of the river, which reduces the magic. But if we get Arexis to the Source he should have no problems in proving himself. As for most of the obstacles I am pretty sure that they are mostly physical. But the magic of the guardian would prevent any unworthy man to take possession of the sceptre. It would cause the man to hallucinate. As the poor soul wanders through the corridors of the Source, seeing visions of paradise, he would finally die of total exhaustion.”

Ludger thought that this form of deception was a very effective way of guarding an area. His house was protected by a similar field operating on fear. He had already experience its effectiveness.

They soon left the city behind them. As the diffuse lights of the city somewhat faded, they reached the opening of a small narrow corridor. Kurden called a halt. He double checked that everybody was accounted for. Without a word he dove into the darkness. Their larger horses barely squeezed through the opening. They lit torches and followed one by one. The tunnel quickly widened and permitted more comfortable progress. Ludger was near the back of the party. His torch was smoking badly, giving a flickering, orange light. Occasionally the dim light would reveal the opening of a side tunnel.

After four hours of monotonous progression, they entered a large cavern whose walls were covered in crystals of all colours. The light from the torches was caught and amplified in a stunning kaleidoscope of coloured patterns.
Kurden called for a short rest. He told Arexis that they were the first strangers to witness the Cave of Crystals. They recuperated for twenty minutes, watching with awe the never repeating spectacle of lights. When they were ready to continue, Kurden warned them to stay close to each other. The path ahead was very complicated until they exited near the river of Gods.

As the hours passed, the men and the horses grew restless from the wearisome monotony of the underground leg of the trip. Ludger’s pack horse slipped. When he struggled back to its hooves it favoured one of its hind legs. Ludger stopped to investigate the problem. He jammed his torch between two rocks. He grabbed the offending hoof between his knees and found a small rock lodged under the horse’s shoe.

While keeping an eye on the lights of the moving column, he quickly dislodged the offending rock. As he started moving, he just lost sight of the trailing man’s torch around a bend of the tunnel. He picked up his pace and as he rounded the next bend, he saw the flickering light of the tail man. He let out a sigh of relief. He urged Bacchus to move faster and they were soon catching up with the light. Ahead, the light suddenly stopped moving. They had probably stopped to let Ludger catch up.

The tunnel opened up into a large cave, lit by an eerie glow. The sight that greeted him, when he entered the cave, crushed the breath right out of his chest. There was no men, no dwarves, no horses and no torches. In the middle of the room stood three ghostly creatures made of rotten flesh. They had cheekless grins on their faces. They were looking at him through lidless eyes, like a starving man looks at a feast that faith just invited him by mistake. After what felt like a century, Ludger willed himself to breathe again. He ordered Bacchus not to get close to the creatures, not that she seemed anxious to approach them.

*

When Kurden called a much needed halt in a spacious cave, everybody was relieved. Soon the light banter of the men was chilled by the discovery that Ludger and his dog were missing. Nobody had noticed before. No clues on how long he had left the group could be garnered. The only sure thing was that he was still with them in the Cavern of Crystals.

Kurden decided to backtrack, with a few of his men. Since time was of the essence, it was agreed that the party would proceed under the guidance of one of his sons. After a short rest Kurden bid them farewell and started to retrace their steps.

*

Ludger slowly advanced toward the cave ghouls, trying to figure out what to do. He could not turn and run. This would leave his horses to certain death. He did not think that his bullets could do much damage to a creature that was already dead. He pulled his hood over his head and donned his gloves, that were tucked away in his belt.
He did not relish hand to hand combat but he could not see any other way. As he was mulling this over, he felt an insistent throbbing coming from his sword. He unconsciously drew the blade. He lashed at the closest creature. An unearthly screech rose from its lipless mouth, as its arm, severed at the shoulder, fell limply to the ground. The other two ghouls rushed him in unison. He barely contained their attack. From the corner of his eyes he noticed two new ghouls entering the cave. He started to seriously doubt the issue of the combat. His mind was reeling amidst the screeches of the creatures, the neighs of the nervous horses and the barks of his dog. As the fight progressed, his handling of the sword was becoming more effective, as he increased his concentration. He was becoming more confident by the minute when suddenly, as he was backing up, a strong hand gripped his ankle and tripped him.

As he was laying down on the ground, he looked down in horror at the disembodied hand grabbing his ankle. He shook it off and before he could get back on his feet, one of the ghouls was upon him. The foul stench of rotting flesh emanating from the creature was choking him. He prepared himself to die. He heard a vicious growl coming from Bacchus and the angry dog lunged, head first, at the creature. It lost its balance long enough for Ludger to regain his footing.

The creature brushed the dog aside as if she was weightless. It returned its attention to Ludger. Bacchus, not to be undone, jumped at the ghoul’s leg and came away with a thigh bone as a trophy. The ghastly creature collapsed to the ground, but it kept crawling toward Ludger. Bacchus was wagging her tail in triumph. Two new creatures rushed Ludger. He counterattacked with renewed vigour, seeing that it was his only chance at survival. For a moment he appeared to gain the upper hand. During a lull in the battle the ghouls regrouped and attacked as one. As he was retreating, Ludger felt a presence behind him. He quickly stole a glance over his shoulder. One of the ghouls, entirely missing his head with no apparent ill effect, stood there ready to grab him. At the last second it fell stiffly to the ground.

Startled by the sudden turn of events, Ludger quickly regained his countenance and attacked. From the entrance he heard the familiar voice of Dregnar yelling at him.

“You have to first behead them, then crack open their skulls and burn its content.”

Ludger did not know what to make of the troll’s presence. But the sight of him with a lit torch and a dwarf’s war hammer was very welcome. A strange combat followed. Ludger would behead one of the ghouls. Its headless body would keep coming at him until Dregnar would crack its skull open with a sickening blow of his hammer. He would then set the pulpy green content of the mashed skull, ablaze with his torch. Only then the body would collapse.
After another twenty minutes of this macabre dance of death, Ludger and the troll were sitting, panting, on a rock overlooking the disgusting mess left by the battle. Bacchus was howling, which was uncharacteristic of her. She still was clutching the long femur that she had captured, between her front paws. After a while things quieted down. They heard Ludger’s horses return to the cave. Dregnar explained.

“I noticed that you were gone. Without alerting the others I started to search for you. I followed the trail of scents left by the horses and dog. I am glad to have found you, Ludger, at such an opportune moment.”

“I am also glad that you did. You are a loyal friend, Dregnar. I thank you.”

After a few minutes of backslapping and giddiness, a doubt crept in Ludger’s mind. Did the others know that they were gone? Would Dregnar be able to guide them out of the mountain? As they realized that they were hopelessly lost in the cavernous maze, a joyful booming voice startled them.

“Why do you looked so gloomy?”

They turned as one and saw Kurden, with three other dwarves, enter the cave. The dwarf-leader laughingly said.

“It does not look like you need our help in defeating a roving band of cave ghouls. I am sorry that we worried about you.”

After a few heartfelt greeting he continued.

“The others should be by the river by now. We should hurry to join them.”

After convincing the horses to cross the cave, they exited by a side tunnel. They made rapid progress, stopping only for short rests. By early evening they were out of the mountain, on a promontory overlooking the once mighty river of Gods. Its narrow bed now lazily went its serpentine way between the mountains. There was enough room to move upriver beside the river, on the dried up portion of the bed. They would not need to follow narrow mountain trails.

Ludger, for one, was happy to be out of the tunnels, where the dwarves seemed to be so comfortable. About half an hour away they could see, by the river, the firelights of the Prince’s camp. From this high vantage point Ludger decided to radio Chargoff, as it was their appointed time. They told him that all was well and to expect the arrival of a battalion of dwarf soldiers. The general promised to relay the good new to Nathalia, at the palace.

After a few more minutes of breathing the crisp mountain air, they slowly made their way down to their friends, who were anxiously waiting for them. One of Arny’s men, on the lookout, quickly spotted them. He spread the news of their imminent arrival.

The tantalizing aroma of food on the grill reached them first, the camp was still hidden by a low knoll. Ludger realized how hungry he really was. They were greeted back to the camp by songs of joy and full wineskins. They sat down to eat by the large fire. While they revelled in Dregnar’s embellished recounting of their heroic battle against the cave ghouls, Ludger quietly sat in the shadow of Andrack’s large bulk, lost in his own thoughts.

“What is wrong?” Whispered the wizard.

“Oh…, nothing. I was just thinking.”

“You can tell me about your problems. I am only here to help you.”

“I know, but it is not a problem. Its just that I feel closer to you, and the rest of these people, than anybody I knew back in my own world. Also, despite the discomforts, the attacks and all…, I feel so comfortable in this world. Is there something wrong with me?”

“Do not worry, this is why you were chosen by the magic of my spell. You are very compatible with the magic of this world.”

Startled, Ludger replied.

“Do you mean that I could perform some magic myself?”

“You have already done so, without knowing, during the forging ceremony. But it almost killed you. To become a practitioner you must devote your life to the art and make the conscious decision of staying in this world permanently.”

Ludger fell back into silence. He was torn by inner turmoils. Andrack left him alone, sensing that Ludger needed to work it out by himself. Late in the night the songs finally died down and the men retired to the tents for the nights. Ludger packed the snow, in an area slightly away from the fire. He unrolled his ground mat and bundled up in his mummy bag. He laid back, looking up at the stars, lost in deep thoughts. After a while his thoughts drifted to green eyes and a certain feisty red head.

At the thought of this challenging person, he told himself.

“I singlehandedly fought draken, bandybear and cave ghouls. I should be able to conquer the heart of one person, however rebellious she might be.”

He fell into a deep slumber, with a smile on his face.

*

Ludger awoke to the smell of breakfast cooking. He saw that the suns were already high in the sky. He was surprised that he had slept for so long. Bacchus was still asleep by the fire.

Andrack came to him, carrying a mug of strong herbal tea. Ludger queried.

“How come nobody woke me up earlier? I could have helped with the morning chores.”

The white haired man answered.

“You needed you rest after yesterday’s events. We have still a few long days ahead of us. I thought it best for you.”

Andrack left him to his morning ablutions. Soon after breakfast they broke camp. They started their slow trek upstream. At least they could now ride their horses, but progress was painfully slow. The dried up bed of the river was filled with polished rocks covered in ice and snow. They made the horse’s footing precarious.

Large snowflakes started to fall. The men turned up the collars of their travelling cloaks. Ludger put on an insulated, Gore-Tex® lined parka over his chainmail. He shivered at the thought of what laid ahead.

By mid-afternoon the wind had picked up. The snow was falling heavily, blinding the men. It made their advance more hazardous. They had just decided to make camp for the night, under a large protecting overhang, when – coming at their flank – a band of dark riders attacked them.

Kurden and his men, who were leading the group, doubled back. They jumped in the battle with their war-hammers high over their heads. Once the initial surprise had passed, they counterattacked in a frenzy. They were not quick enough to prevent two of the Prince’s guards to perish by the swords of the black riders.

Ludger grabbed his rifle and took a clear shot at a man who was about to skewer Andrack from behind. The startled old man did not know what had happened. Ludger was happy that his mount had not thrown him at the loud report from the gun. He could not risk firing again, due to the close quarters of the fight. The heavy snow accentuated the confusion. He holstered the G3, drew his sword and joined the melee. He was confronted by a large man with an evil grin in his face. He seemed to be the leader of the band. The man lunged at him with a heavy battle axe. Ludger deflected the blow with the sword. Sparks flew and the impact stung his right hand. The axe glanced off his left shoulder. His shoulder felt numb. Being off balanced, he had great difficulty holding on to his saddle.

He was lucky to be riding a well trained battle horse. The horse had pivoted and disengaged his opponent, permitting Ludger to regain his balance. He pulled his hood on, not wanting to loose his head in the battle. He cleared his mind and concentrated on his sword. He turned his horse around with his knees and attacked the man with uncontrollable fury. With his sword windmilling around him, he quickly gained the upper hand. He was amazed when his thin blade sliced through his opponent’s massive axe, as if it was butter. With a swift pass he slit the man’s throat. The man with unfathomable hatred in his eyes, slid slowly from his saddle.

Ludger turned his horse around, looking for another adversary. Dregnar had fallen from his horse. He was cornered by a laughing man. Ludger spurred his mount and rode to his defense. As he passed them, he dealt a killing blow to the man. Without stopping he went to Arexis, who was dealing with one of the last raiders.

His attack created enough of a diversion to open the man’s guard to the Prince. Arexis dealt him a quick thrust with his sword. As the man fell, his horse stumbled, landing on Ludger, who was unhorsed in the process. As he rolled on the ground he saw with horror, out of the corner of his eye, the right front hoof of the spooked horse, coming toward his head with the speed and power of a freight train. His head collided with the hoof, or vice-versa, and all went black.

*

Ludger quickly regained consciousness with a numbness in his shoulder and a ringing pain in his head. A lot of drawn faces were looking at him. For a few second he had to fight to recognize them. His mind soon cleared to the happy relief of his friends. Arexis extended his hand, helping him back to his feet. Kurden offered him a skin full of strong brandy. Ludger let out a long stream of the potent liquid into his mouth. The brandy burned his throat as he swallowed, putting back a needed vigour in his soul.

Ludger learned that the battle had quickly ended, due to lack of foes. As they made camp he was saddened that three of the Prince’s guards had not survived the attack. All the raiders, bar one, had perished. This survivor later perished from his wounds. But not before telling them that they had been a band of mercenaries, hired by Magdar, to prevent them to finish their quest. The man’s last word were.

“Beware of the giant rock troll.”

The camp was silent that evening as the men mourned their lost friends. Trackers had been sent, ahead and back, they would report later in the evening. Ludger was surprised by the effectiveness of his lightweight armour. His parka had been ripped to shreds by the numerous blows he had suffered. But he had not suffered any ill effects, except for a stiff shoulder and a mild headache.

When the trackers returned, Ludger joined Arexis and Andrack by the fire. The men who had backtracked had disposed of an advanced patrol of dark elves. By their conversation the had found that the main body of a large force was following, about two days back.

The group who had gone ahead advised that they were about half a day’s forced march from the source of the river. The side pass, from which they had been attacked, was now empty. No signs of other raiders were presents.

After a short deliberation it was decided that since they could not backtrack to face the black elves, they had to reach the Source, retrieve the sceptre and be back to the side pass, before the black elves reached that point.
After a short rest and meal they would leave quickly and march overnight. Luckily the weather had cleared up and their progress would be lit by the full moon.

They would try to return by tomorrow afternoon, at the latest. Thus giving themselves only half a day head start, up the side pass, ahead of the dark elves.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

From 1990: One Way Ticket To Talenthar

The Sass