Abyss
A hero is not one who easily defeats strong opponents. There is no heroism in pure strength. A hero is someone who overcomes himself with difficulty. A hero is someone who stands up and carries on in the face of circumstances that would leave others broken. - The scribbled note in a pile of rubbish, doomed to be unread.
The company confidently jumped to its goal. Dayorb curved its arcs across the soft red sky, leaning towards the horizon, and a strong, cool wind blew away the summer heat. Titus looked in their direction.
Black-clad figures could be seen in the nearby megashroom groves. They were cutting and chopping the megashrooms. Nearby were huge water pumps, barrels and pipes, pumping water from underground rivers. The company tried to avoid these places on the ground.
During one of the jumps, Gloomeye noticed someone. At first he thought it was someone close by, but then he saw a lot of people and the city next to him. It was a monster that would make Aurgelmir look like a dwarf compared to an elf. But this creature was the opposite of an elf - fat, even flabby, striped and horned.
Noticing that Splinter had stopped popping out from the side, Gloomeye turned around. The girl decided to freeze on her peg.
"This is Frenzy, that''s for sure. Should we turn back?" Splinter looked up at the guy as he approached her.
"Have you met him before?" the guy asked.
Splinter shook her head:
"But I know exactly what he is."
"If we turn back now, it was all for nothing. At least we''ll scout around to make sure we don''t stand a chance," Gloomeye began to persuade.
It didn''t take long - Splinter nodded uncertainly.
They found a Mourneers camp not far away. Although it could only be called a camp because all the dwellings were tents. This camp was much larger than Bridge, and not much smaller than real cities like Capital or Truth. And in terms of population, it exceeded all of them put together. Black-robed people scurried between the black tents, minding their own business. In the distance, the Mourneers became an unbroken black river that washed over Frenzy. One of his arms was encased in a crag, and with the other, he was striking at the battlefield.
"Squeak!" Drat pointed to a pyramid-shaped city nearby, which was separated from the battlefield by a chasm.
"Is that the Court of Madness? I think it''s going to be harder to get in than I first thought," Gloomeye said thoughtfully.
There was no sarcasm of such a fruitful topic, and the guy looked at the girl to find out the reason for the lack of sarcasm. Splinter glared at the furious titan who was trying to crush the little men.
"I suggest we change our clothes and find some maps or secret documents about the way to the city. I''m sure the Mourneers have plenty of saboteurs and spies behind enemy lines."
Splinter finally broke off her contemplation of the battle and looked at the guy:
"That plan again? Is there something wrong with your clothes that makes you want to change them so badly? Well, what do I care? I''m already working for the Mourneers, and now I''m touched by magerot. Consider changing into my own uniform," the words were Splinter''s, but the intonation was that of the undead searching for Elvinon, or Splinter of first encounter with Gloomy.
"I think your work is done, Drat. From here we''ll find our way to Capital, with what we need or by giving up," Gloomeye counted out five iron coins and handed them to the guide. He put the payment into the inside pocket of his vest and looked at Gloomeye. Gloomeye looked at Drat.
"Is it really such a good pay and was it worth the work you did for us?" Gloomy broke the awkward silence.
Drat waved his hand vaguely. Then, after a moment''s thought, he picked up the pegs ropes and pointed at Dayorb, making a circle with his index finger.
" You want to look after our pegs for a day? Thank you. If we have to go anywhere again, I''ll find you. And even if we don''t, I''ll find you anyway. I hope we''ve become friends," Gloomeye said.
"Squeak," Drat said in agreement.
"So it''s too early to say goodbye. I''ll see you soon," Gloomeye waved.
He and Splinter headed for the outermost tents at the edge of the camp. Inside were couches and trunks full of the Mourneer''s uniforms without veils. But what chance did they have of meeting someone who knew them by sight in such a large crowd? There weren''t many of them, just Slizvert and Almcatcher, who didn''t want to give them away, even though she said she didn''t approve of the idea of changing clothes. Besides, not all the Mourneers here wore a veil. Those with human or near-human faces either felt no need to hide them, or simply bragged to less fortunate colleagues.
Picking up a minimally sagging uniform, the group donned a disguise over their clothes and made their way to the large tent where the most important documents were supposed to be stored.
Everything went smoothly until a man with a burned face and no ear, wearing a steel-collared armour, called out to them. Are there the Steel Collars here too?
"You! Contract thief! I recognised you," he said, walking briskly towards the unfortunate scouts.
"It''s just my face. A lot of people think they know me," Gloomeye tried to wriggle out of the situation. He noticed that many people had stopped to watch the scene "Exposing Spies, A Tragedy in One Act".
"I have an absolute memory," the man said, grabbing the spies by the shoulders. "It''s you. You can''t just steal the contract this time, it''s well protected. And what am I supposed to do with you?"
Before the guy could advise him to let them go, another of the Steel Collars appeared and said to the man:
"Pulhr, I''ll take care of this. I''ll take them where they belong."
Gloomeye recognised the woman as she approached. She had come down from the gates of Capital to show the Humanist camp. Only now she had no hair on her head. So she''s joined the Collars?
The woman snatched the captive spies out of the man''s hands. He nodded and went about his business.
"Did you recognise us?" Gloomeye whispered to the woman.
"Yes," she whispered back and began to push them deeper into the camp.
"Thanks for saving us, but where are we going?" the guy asked.
"Not outside the camp, that''s for sure. Think how suspicious that will look."
Gloomeye calmed down and started walking ahead of his rescuer. Splinter walked beside him, her eyes fixed on Frenzy raging in the distance.
They came to a pit covered with a cloth stretched over poles (as if the pit could suffer from the rays of Dayorb). Beside him sat a man in ordinary clothes: an unbuttoned shirt over his bare body and knee-length trousers.
"Who are they?" he asked lazily.
"Enemies," the woman replied, pushing the guy and the girl into the pit. Before he fell, Gloomy had time to turn and see that the pusher''s pupils were tunnels leading into the flames of madness.
After flying a short distance, Gloomeye landed on a mountain of rotting middleshroom caps. The only source of light in this gloomy place was the dim glow of translucent mushrooms stuck in torch holders.
Some people grabbed him and Splinter, threw them to the ground, tore off their disguises and took their bags. They were then roughly led down a corridor, which was roughly dug out and had roughly hewn wooden supports. Much roughness appeared in the lives of the heroes.
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As he was led into the darkness of the dungeon, Gloomeye considered the situation. Obviously, he had made a great stupidity, trapping not only himself but also his friend. Come to think of it (and the timing is perfect), Slizvert might have described my appearance to others. Almcatcher and Alm knew who to follow, and the Mourneer on the bridge said something about the Hands needing us. And how could I use a disguise that didn''t cover my face? What was I thinking? The reason was most likely his recent daring successes, such as helping to slay a dragon or uncovering Guinevere''s plot. This made him more presumptuous than he needed to be. But what were the chances of meeting two people who knew him by sight, the Collars? 100%, if he met them...
They were led into a cave where a group of armed men and a familiar orc stood around a crowd of unarmed people. The ceiling of the room was low and she had to kneel with her straight hands on the floor. There were more mushrooms and more light in the cave, and Gloomeye now understood the meaning of the carved runes on the orc''s neck: "Control" on one side and "Pain" on the other.
"Master Astoro, more slaves have arrived," said one of the men leading the new captives.
The figure next to the orc turned around, and Gloomy realised that he had made no great stupidity, but a grave mistake. Astoro turned out to be the head of the slavers near Capital, who had been beaten and robbed by Gloomeye. He was now wearing a long cloak that completely covered his body. The cloth fell from the large metal shoulder pads, revealing only one hand resting on a cane.
"Oh, Mr. Gloomeye, how nice to see you! And here you are, Ms. Boiriann, nice to meet you. You barely made it to the party. Put them in the same row and call Mr. Slizvert," Astoro said, cruelly destroying Gloomeye''s hopes of a bad memory. The slave trader spoke seriously, without a hint of a joke or a smile. Even his half-closed eyes did not open.
The people were drawn into a line and a man in a ridiculous helmet began to walk around them. The helmet had metal horns that protruded forward along the entire length of the headwear. Between the horns was a thin net. The helmet-wearer watched each slave carefully and drew conclusions: "Coward", "Will resist", "Already mad".
About one man he said:
"Touched by magerot. He plans to kill us all with his abilities. Something to do with blood."
"I''d like to see his face when he tries, but you can''t count on enemies. He may try, and in the same second, the madmen may decide to turn off their order field. Or our allies may defeat them and forget to warn us. A bloody collar for him, then sell him," Astoro ordered.
The man held up his bleeding arm, then stared at it in surprise as they dragged him under their arms.
"He tried anyway. Thank you," said the main slaver.
Next to Gloomeye, a guy of strange appearance kept whispering:
"This is all wrong. This shouldn''t be happening. This is not right!"
"You''d better not attract attention with your strange mutterings," Gloomy whispered to him.
The strange guy looked at the advisor in surprise, and his not very big eyes widened as much as they could. The inspector who came up to him was a little more surprised - he fell to the ground and shouted:
"THE CURRENT IS TOO STRONG! EMPIRES WAGE WARS AMONG THE STARS! ELF-SLAVES AND ELF-ENSLAVERS! WORLDS DIE AND ARE REBORN! THE FIRE MEGASHROOMS ARE CURSING THEM!" the screamer''s movements became quite jerky until Slizvert hobbled up to him and took off his fancy helmet. The screamer immediately went limp and lost consciousness.
"Ummm. An outsider. We''ll take him," said his rescuer. "Surprisingly, they still appear, even though the Empty Court is long gone." Slizvert fiddled awkwardly with the helmet. "Can I try the mindscope?"
"It''s bad luck to give an Old World artefact to a Mourneer. But for the sake of our union, I am willing to overcome any superstition, Mr. Slizvert," Astoro waved his cane invitingly.
Slizvert put on his helmet, but to Gloomy''s disappointment, he didn''t fall down and convulse. Even the three tines of his circlet didn''t cause any visible discomfort under the helmet.
"So many naked women... Ummm. I have never seen so many dressed in my entire life," the Mourneer was about to take off his helmet, but something stopped him. "Ummm. Interesting..."
"Are you taking Mr. Gloomeye and Ms. Boiriann as well, Mr. Slizvert?" Astoro interrupted his muttering.
"Ummm, no. I''ll leave them to you. We need to punch a hole in Hreb as soon as possible. After all, it worked so well in capturing Capital," Slizvert removed the mindscope with obvious regret, handed it to one of Astoro''s men, and turned his face to Gloomeye. It seemed to him that the Centurion had mentioned the capture of Capital, where Worldedge was located, specifically for him.
The outsider was caught by the arms.
"What are you saying? Where am I being taken?" the outsider shouted, looking hopefully at Gloomeye, but stopped as they put on him some sort of iron helmet with a handle on the back and began to lead him into the darkness of the corridor.
I must warn Splinter that this is no the time to be impertinent. Knowing her, Gloomeye was surprised that she hadn''t made any comments yet. But when he looked in the girl''s direction, he was stunned. Splinter was on her knees, hands behind her back, looking down at the ground. Is it Splinter? Or had she been switched in the darkness? Slizvert took a step towards Gloomy and leaned close to his ear. He saw an ordinary young male face beneath the folds of the veil.
"When luck is on your side again, find me at the gate to your current employer. I''ll be with your family. This is a threat. Ummm. Now this will be motivation," the Centurion took a small box from his pocket and threw it to Astoro. The orc caught the box and handed it to her owner.
"Maginarium''s detail. Ummm. Please keep it," Slizvert finished.
"You give me a lot of strange assignments, Mr. Slizvert. You''re squeezing as much as you can out of our alliance," the head slaver said respectfully. As Slizvert limped towards the exit, Astoro and his orc approached Gloomy.
"Like the outfit, Gloomeye? I won''t take it away from you, it will remind you of our fateful meeting. On the contrary, I''ll give you something else," Astoro pointed at the guy with his index fingers pressed together.
A second later, the green fist rammed into Gloomeye''s stomach. Gloomy didn''t like it very much. He bent over and wished for it to stop. But the fist had other plans. It hit him again in the head and threw him back against the wall.
"Two blows will do, we don''t want to spoil the goods," Astoro stopped the orc. She bent down before her master:
"Am I a good girl? Praise me, Master," she said.
"Yes," the master agreed and patted the slave on the head. Then he looked at Gloomeye, lying in the dust, and for the first time his face changed. He smiled. That smile frightened Gloomeye more than Aurgelmir, Alm or Wind Cleaver.
As promised, no clothes were taken from Gloomeye, and the other slaves were dressed in tattered rags. They were led down a corridor that kept going up. At one of the forks, the slaves went a separate way from their belongings. Gloomy tried to remember this place, for he had already begun to think of an escape plan. They hadn''t checked him with the mindscope, but he was sure it would have said "Will resist". As well as the fact that Astoro knew it without the artefact. And not only did Slizvert know, he thought it was only a matter of time before Gloomeye escaped. He''s a strange guy, and he''s stuck on me for some reason. I should have asked him directly when I had the chance.
Escaping looked like a difficult task, with slavers and the Steel Collars everywhere in the tunnels. At the end of the road was a dead end, deepened with pickaxes by men in rags. At the sight of the new group, they dropped their instruments and left under guard. Gloomeye and the others were forced to continue their work. The guy was given a pickaxe and began to pound on hard stone, which was difficult not only because it was hard physical work, but also because he had to stand at an angle. The pieces of stone were picked up by other slaves, including Splinter, and taken away. At one point another slave brought in logs to support the walls and ceiling. The guards were bored, sometimes shouting advice, mostly focused on speeding up and increasing the power of the blows. No one struck anyone, but the guards carried their weapons openly, and some of them had their hands on them.
Gloomy had lost track of time and was very tired. Like some slaves, he asked to go to the toilet several times, mostly to rest his body. The toilet was a corner with a bucket. The overseer stood with his back to Gloomeye. This could also be used for escape, although the toilet seems to have been constantly moved as the excavation progressed.
After a while, a dirty child dressed as a slave brought a pot of stew and began to pour it into the cups. The soup was greasy water with hard, tasteless bits.
After lunch, Gloomeye worked for about the same amount of time as before lunch. Then the slaves were led into another tunnel. After passing another group, they were led into a small cave separated by iron bars with a door. The door was locked, of course. Splinter immediately lay down against the wall and turned away from everyone. Gloomeye collapsed onto his back. He was so tired that he could hardly think. Still, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. The other slaves followed Splinter''s example, either lying down or leaning against the walls.
"Is anyone from Bridge here?" Gloomy decided to speak.
No one answered. Very bad atmosphere for planning an escape. Northman said that you can only lose when you have given up or are dead. It''s often the same.
But then the guy noticed the slave child, the food deliverer. They sat with their knees drawn to their chests and nodded.
"Know that Guinevere has sold you, but Lady Uthera has already punished her," the guy told everyone the good news, just in case.
"Good..." said the child. They had long hair and a very dirty face. Gloomeye was glad to get at least some response:
"What''s your name? My name is Gloomeye. And that''s Splinter over there."
The child shrugged, and their eyes began to dim. This is bad, I have to keep talking.
"Then I''ll make one up, okay? Everyone needs a name," Gloomeye looked at the child, trying not to give them a humiliating characterizing name, which was not easy. "Are you a boy or a girl?" he finally asked.
"Girl..."
"Then you will be Girl. After you can change your name. Or leave it. You''ll be old Girl, isn''t that funny?"
The girl nodded. The fading of her gaze stopped.
Judging by the routine, several similar days passed. Gloomeye worked at one time, talked to Girl and slept at another. Sometimes Girl would work a different shift, and then Gloomeye would try to strike up a conversation with someone else. But everyone preferred to lie in silence, basking in their grief and their chosen solitude.
Splinter accepted slavery worst of all. Her eyes became vacant and constantly downcast. When she wasn''t working, she was propped up against the wall Gloomy hoped that, once freed, she would return to her old self. But what if the reason for her apathy was Slizvert''s treachery? Were they really that close?