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The further Zeke descended, the more he could feel the mana tightening around his chest. He didn’t belong in these tunnels, and the weight of the mountain wasn’t shy about letting him know it. If Zeke had to make an educated guess based on the runes he’d seen on the columns outside, he’d have said that the pressure he felt was somehow tied to them, but without further study, he couldn’t be sure. However, he did notice that the dwarves seemed completely unaffected, which lent some credence to his theory.

As they descended deeper into the tunnels, Zeke found himself marveling at the craftmanship on display. Each tunnel was clearly artificial, carved into the mountains with extreme care. The tunnel’s decorative style was reminiscent of brutalist themes, though with a tendency toward geometric shapes, in that there it was comprised of sharp angles and straight lines.

There were plenty of runes on display, too. They were different than any Zeke had seen before. More primal. Aggressive. Almost crude. Though, even in passing, Zeke could feel the power of those runes, and he knew that they contained more mana than any he’d seen, save for when he’d encountered godly runecraft. That supported his suspicion that it was all tied together, and the result was the metaphysical pressure pushing down on his shoulders.

Of course, that also begged the question of whether or not that was the purpose of the runes or if it was a mere side effect of so much power having been gathered. Zeke had a feeling that if he intended to escape captivity – after he accomplished whatever it was he was supposed to accomplish – he would have to figure it all out.

In any case, he was being pushed forward by the flow of dwarves, so he didn’t have leave to study any of it. After what felt like miles of descent into the bowels of the mountain, the group finally reached a massive cavern, and once again, Zeke was taken aback by what he saw.

It was an entire city, though not one Zeke had expected. The cavern was hollow but for a single metallic column jutting from below. Various bridges, which looked like they were made from crystalline lace, extended from the walls to the column, which was ringed by platforms every few dozen feet. Without the scale of the thousands of dwarven pedestrians on those bridges, Zeke might’ve thought them delicate. However, the sheer size of the structures made the dwarves scurrying across them look like ants.

The edges of the chasm were layered into multiple floors with decorative gates spread throughout each level. Zeke stopped counting the levels at twenty, and he hadn’t even made it halfway to the bottom, which was flooded by a simmering pool of magma. The spire, which extended into the lava lake, glowed white hot for at least a hundred feet from where it plunged into the fiery depths.

“Impressive, eh?” said one of the dwarves, whose bearded face had suddenly split into a wide grin. It never touched his eyes, though. “Min Ferelik is the pride of the Deep Dwarves for a reason.”

Zeke couldn’t help but nod, but as impressive as the dwarven stronghold was – and it was incredibly impressive – it wasn’t what truly drew his attention. Instead, he was wholly focused on a very familiar feeling. It was barely more than a tingling along the surface of his exposed skin, but for anyone who’d felt it before, the meaning was clear.

There was a portal to the demon realm nearby.

It had become apparent the moment he and the dwarves had stepped out of the tunnel and into the cavern. The feeling was light, but after having felt it on numerous occasions, Zeke couldn’t mistake it for anything else.

However, Zeke wasn’t given the chance to explore the atmosphere; instead, he felt the jab of a cudgel in his back as one of the other dwarves directed him along the balcony ringing the cavern. After twenty minutes – which really brought home the sheer scale of the cavern – they made their way to the first crystalline bridge.

Zeke had seen hundreds of dwarves walking across the crystal surfaces, but even so, he hesitated for a moment before setting foot on the bridge. Looking down, he could see right through it, albeit with a hint of distortion, which made standing atop the bridge an exercise in discomfort. A wave of vertigo swept through him as he continued along, prodded forward by a surly dwarf’s cudgel.

It took a few steps until Zeke’s rational mind caught up to the irrational idea that the bridge might crack and send him falling down into a pit of lava, but when it did, he let out a sigh. By Zeke’s judgement, the bridge was about a mile long, and they covered that ground with some alacrity, reaching the pillar at the center of the cavern. The closer they got, the more Zeke began to realize that even hundreds – maybe even thousands – of yards from the pool of magma, the pillar still radiated significant heat. The dwarves must have been equipped with a resistance similar to Zeke’s own, because they didn’t seem affected by it.

When the group reached the center, Zeke saw that there were crystal balconies that spiraled along the outside of the enormous pillar, making it a hub where they could ascend or descend to other levels. The dwarves led him down for another few minutes, and Zeke lost track of how many levels they’d descended. Eventually, they reached the appropriate level, and they led him across another bridge toward the outer edge of the cavern.

Around those spiraling ramps and across the crystalline bridges, Zeke got a good look at a wider variety of dwarves. Most were built similarly to the ones who’d captured him. Short, broad shouldered, and bearded. However, there was plenty of variation, too. From Zeke’s perspective, it seemed that they ranged from a little over three feet tall to topping out at about four-and-a-half. As to their body types, they ran the gamut. Fat. Thin. Muscular. And everything in between. The females lacked beards and sported slight curves, but from a distance, it was difficult to tell the two apart.

After crossing the bridge, they passed through another gate before heading deeper into the mountain. By that point, Zeke had completely lost any sense of direction, and he knew that it would be difficult to find his way back. It was yet another issue for when he attempted his escape.

As the progressed through the tunnels, Zeke saw a variety of doorways. Some were open, revealing various craftspeople at work, but the interiors looked decidedly shabby, and it didn’t take Zeke long to come to the conclusion that they’d entered a poorer part of Min Ferelik.

There were also plenty of side passages that led into other areas, though the group continued along the main thoroughfare for another couple of miles. As they did, Zeke found himself impressed with the size of the city. There weren’t just thousands of dwarves living in the mountain; that number had to have been counted in the millions, and that was just based on what he’d seen so far. He was well aware that he’d only glimpsed a fraction of the population, and even that was overwhelming.

The city’s tunnels didn’t twist or turn.  Instead, it felt like every intersection was a right angle. Still, it felt more like a hive than a city. Given that it was underground series of tunnels, Zeke couldn’t help but compare Min Ferelik to the troll caves. However, where those caverns had been natural, everything in the dwarven city had been carved, as if the dwarves were dead set on forcing nature to adhere to their worldview.

The entire tunnel system was lit by white globes that were, Zeke soon found, powered by simplistic runes. They didn’t provide enough light to compare with the sun, but everything was illuminated well enough that Zeke had no trouble seeing. Some of that was due to the lights, but mostly, it was part of his multiple racial evolutions. But Zeke noticed that a few of his dwarven captors seemed surprised at the ease with which he navigated the tunnels.

The deeper they went, the more the hints of the corrupted demon atmosphere faded into almost nothing. It was still there, though it was subtle and easily missed. For Zeke, though, it was like being constantly injected with a narrow stream of adrenaline. Considering the implications, its presence was troubling, but Zeke was grateful for the influx of energy that kept him from flagging as they progressed steadily further into the city.

Finally, after hours of walking, they emerged into another open area.

This one looked more like a typical settlement, with various buildings dotting the massive cavern. These buildings were constructed along the same archictectural philosophy as the rest of Min Ferelik, with a brutalist design composed of sharp angles. There were cosmetic flourishes that reminded Zeke more of art deco concepts, with long lines and geometric shapes. Some were filled in with brass or copper, but most were just carvings in the bare stone.

The dwarves in this area looked a little more downtrodden, as well. Their skin hung looser, and they had a dark, dangerous cast to their expressions. More than one sported visible weapons at their belts, reminding Zeke of the poorer areas he’d seen in the Radiant Isles. Most looked at Zeke with a mixture of hunger and challenge, and he could read those expression well enough to surmise that if he hadn’t been surrounded by a dozen surly dwarves, he’d have been attacked the moment he set foot in the area.

Zeke had no name for the area, but he could see enough to label it the city’s slums. And he had enough experience to recognize just how dangerous such a place could be.

Their traversal through the slums was decidedly uneventful. Not by the choice of the locals, but it was clear that they had no desire to mess with the slavers. Perhaps they feared being enslaved themselves.

Eventually, they crossed the slums and entered yet another tunnel. This one was narrower, with lower ceilings, but it was still large enough accommodate Zeke’s taller form. Even so, he was well aware that there were only a few feet between his head and innumerable tons of rock – an easy thing to forget in the wide, spacious halls they’d traveled so far, but oppressively apparent in the smaller tunnels.

Fortunately, they weren’t confined by the cramped tunnels for long, because they soon came out in a smaller but still impressively sized cavern. This one was rougher, with none of the decorations that had been present in the other areas. The buildings were plain gray stone, and the dwarves they housed were somehow even more hostile looking.

But for the first time since ascending, Zeke saw other humans. And humanoids. There were people that were even smaller than the dwarves, some that were of a size with humans, though with a wide variety of skin colors and defining features. Zeke even saw some with tapered ears that reminded him of the elves he’d seen in popular fiction back on Earth.

One and all, though, they were collared and shackled, just like him. It seemed that he’d found his way to a slave camp.

Another jab in the back reminded Zeke that he was subject to the whims of his captors, and he followed the other dwarves forward until they reached a building that was slightly larger than the others. It had a symbol that resembled a pair of crossed mining picks above the door. But the surly leader of the slavers didn’t go inside. Instead, his target was a long opening on the side of the building. Zeke and the other dwarves followed.

“What’cha got, Bartholomew?” came a thin, reedy voice. Zeke soon found the speaker sitting inside the opening. He thought she might have been a female dwarf, considering the beardless visage. However, Zeke wasn’t confident enough in his knowledge of dwarven genders to make that call. In any case, it didn’t really matter.

“He’s big and strong,” said Bartholomew, which was clearly the leader’s name. It was the first time Zeke had heard it. The lead slaver slapped Zeke’s arm, saying, “He’ll make for a good miner, Kilara.”

Kilara. That sounded like a female name, but still, Zeke wasn’t sure. Still, he chose to think of her in those terms until told otherwise. Besides, he wasn’t so worried about offending the sorts of people who would enslave others.

Kilara cast an appraising look at Zeke, then said, “Aye. He’s a biggun. Looks healthy, too. Where’d you find ‘im?”

“Fresh ascension,” Bartholomew stated. “We was headed off to hunt elves when we felt it. Figured we’d bring him back before we set out.”

That answered one question Zeke had had. The dwarves hadn’t just stumbled upon him. They’d felt his ascension and tracked him down.

“Give you seventy green beads,” said Kilara. “Not a gem more, neither.”

“Well, that ain’t gonna work, Kilara,” said Bartholomew, which kicked off the haggling session. It wasn’t long, but Zeke picked up a few things as he followed along. For one, there were plenty of other places Bartholomew could have sold a captive like Zeke, but the Green Mountain Mining Guild was the least picky about their slaves. When they struck a deal and Kilara handed out the payment, Zeke also learned that the local currency was comprised of beads made from various gems. He’d only seen the red and green – ruby and emerald – so far, but he suspected that there were plenty of other variations.

After the haggling was finished and the beads had changed hands, Zeke was handed over to a pair of burly dwarves that looked even wider and more muscular than normal. Both were armed with similar cudgels to the ones carried by Bartholomew’s men, but they also carried long daggers at their hips and wicked battleaxes on their backs. Neither spoke in anything but grunts as they took possession of Zeke and led him to a nearby building. One shoved him inside, saying, “Try to ‘scape, and I’ll cut ya in half. Ya hear me?”

Zeke nodded.

“Good. Work good, get rewards,” the dwarf said. “Work bad, I’ll cut ya in half. Step outta line, and I’ll cut ya in half. Steal from Miss Kilara, and I’ll cut ya in half. Got it?”

Again, Zeke nodded. Inwardly, he wondered if the dwarven guard knew of any response other than to bisect someone, but he didn’t give the thought voice. Instead, he remained silent as the dwarf continued to list rules, most of which boiled down to, “Don’t cause trouble, or I’ll cut you in half.”

Finally, the dwarf pointed to a nearby pallet and said, “Sleep there. Follow the crowd. Or I’ll cut ya in half.”

Zeke couldn’t suppress a sigh as he nodded. As he did, though, he wondered if whatever he was supposed to learn with the dwarves was worth all the trouble. But at least his new “owner” was promising; working for a mining guild might be just what he needed in order to complete his quest.

So, once the guard’s explanation was done, Zeke crossed to the pallet and sat down. Once he was comfortable, he turned his gaze inward and resumed his study of the runes that governed his collar and shackles. Because, when the time came, he wanted to be ready to tear through those restrictions and take out his frustrations on the people who’d made the mistake of enslaving him.

Comments

Gardor

"Zeke was grateful for the influx of energy that kept him from flagging as they progressed steadily further into the city." Could he even get tired from walking at his level?