Eloquent Tales & Blues

Amid the dwarven hall’s merriment, two mighty tankards, brimming with sweet brew, were shoved in front of Jarvis and Fenton. Fenton’s slender fingers snapped around the smooth wooden handle without hesitation, but Jarvis pushed his own stein away as a low groan escaped from his throat.

As laughter boomed throughout the hall, Ferrek downed the last of his ale. With a belch, the dwarf slammed the empty mug on the table as his mouth curled into a devilish grin. “Bring me another!”

With trembling fingers, Jarvis slid his drink toward his guide. “Here’s a fresh one for you.”

The dwarven king leaned forward, placing a thick finger against Jarvis’s tankard as his lips drew to a thin line. With a gentle push, the stein reversed its course, stopping just in front of the human leader. His thick finger tapped the stein’s rim while Gilras’s eyes darkened. “It’s impolite to refuse a drink offered freely.”

“I wasn’t trying to offend.”

Gilras cleared his throat with a hearty growl. “The only excuse not to partake is that something is wrong with what’s been given.”

Fenton’s lips spread wide as he lifted his fresh mug. “I’ve never tasted a better brew.”

“Agreed,” Jarvis said, pulling the tankard away from the king’s fingers. “Unfortunately, I don’t share your constitution. If I enjoy more of this marvelous ale, I won’t be able to ask what happened to Tarian’s colony.”

Ferrek chuckled as an attendant replaced his stein. He drank half the fresh mug and sighed as he laid the stein down and wiped his face with his sleeve. “Gilras, remember all our stories.”

“What about them?” Gilras asked as he leaned back in his chair.

“Keep in mind our new friends are just like Tarian’s folk from your father’s time. All our tales from that era highlight their inability to match our tolerance or love for grog.”

The king stroked his beard as his gaze drifted toward Jarvis. His stubby fingers combed through the thick hair at his neck while a heavy silence settled across the room. “You’re not wrong, but I expected more from this new batch of humans, considering how you described their battles with the horde.”

“After all this time, and despite their mighty weapons, they’re still frail in comparison to us.” Ferrek lifted his tankard and tapped Jarvis’s shoulder. “But even if you are on the verge of collapsing, it’s polite to taste every drink given to you.”

Jarvis closed his eyes as he lifted the tankard off the table and took a small sip. As he placed it down, he licked his lips as a sigh rushed out. “Now, what can you tell us about Tarian’s colony and what became of it?”

“Not much,” the dwarven king said, clasping his hands. “It was a little before my time.”

“Your kin was nothing more than legend,” Ferrek said, waving his brew about.

Gilras sighed and took a pull from his tankard. “My father, Fitik, ruled during Tarian’s expedition, Jarvis.”

“Is he still alive?”

“You are fortunate,” Gilras said as he slowly swirled the ale about his stein...

While Jarvis dabbed his forehead, the rough bark dug into the small of his back. After stealing a few precious moments, he shoved the damp cloth into his pocket as he hustled through his people and chased down their guide. When he reached the dwarf, Jarvis caught the stout warrior’s shoulder. “Ferrek, how much further do we have to go?”

Hearty laughter exploded from the guide’s mouth as his head twisted. “We’re closer than the last time you asked. However, if you’re not as hearty as you claimed, we can take another break.”

“No,” Jarvis said between ragged gasps. He pressed his palm against his chest as his head whipped about, searching the endless trees. “I’ll be fine.”

“Provided you survive,” Ferrek said, clapping Jarvis’s side, “you should add exercise into your busy day.”

As Jarvis’s knees wobbled, he leaned against a nearby tree.

With raucous laughter, Ferrek spun around and continued marching through the forest.

As the dwarf wove through the trunks, Jarvis plucked his canteen from his belt and swallowed several gulps. Once the water tumbled down his throat, he wiped his mouth and hustled after the guide. As he crested the hill, a stout hand slapped Jarvis’s stomach. “What was that for?”

“Look down,” Ferrek said, pointing at the ground.

Squinting his eyes, Jarvis stepped away from the fissure splitting the ground before his boots. He shook his head and inched toward the chasm. “Where do we go from here?”

The dwarven guide lifted his hands as his grin tugged at his cheeks. “Patience, Jarvis, there’s a twisting path that leads directly to the bottom of this cliff and the entrance to our home. It’s good that you got your second wind. The climb down will be taxing.”

“After you.”

With a nod, the guide spun around and marched along the cliff’s edge. When the dwarf reached a gnarled tree, he spun around it and followed the trail as it bent around the cliff face. When they reached the bottom of the cliff, Ferrek clapped Jarvis’s back. “Cheers, you and your friends are the first outsiders allowed inside our halls.”

With a nod, Jarvis took another pull from his canteen. “Thanks for the honor.”

Ferrek gestured toward the far wall of stone and bowed. “Your courage in battle earned you the right to face our king.”

Jarvis’s hand quivered as he grabbed Fenton and pointed at the intricate stonework opposite them. “Can you see that?”

“It’s a little hard to miss,” Fenton said as he pulled himself free from Jarvis’s grasp.

Jarvis shook his head and rubbed the feeling back into his legs before he resumed chasing after his guide. Silently, their group passed through the massive archway, and the solid stone doors sealed behind them. The torches lining the walls shone brightly, reflecting off the gold and silver inlays. “Your hall could withstand a siege, Ferrek.”

“It’s sufficient for our needs.”

Fenton cleared his throat as his head swiveled to take in everything he could...

With a knock on the doorframe, Jarvis stalked into the makeshift laboratory. "Did you complete the study, Myriam?"

The scientist's eyes darted to the pad beside her. As her breath rushed out, she clutched the tablet to her chest. "We've run the test multiple times."

"What are the results?"

One of Myriam's hands fell from the device. "Something has to be wrong with the field samples."

"Please give me the tablet." Jarvis stepped forward, reaching out with a weary hand. "I'll examine what you've discovered for myself."

The scientist's eyes widened as she thrust the pad into Jarvis's grasp. "Somehow, the horde descended from the original expedition. How's that possible? We do not share any similarities with those monsters."

Jarvis pressed the device into the table's edge as he stifled a groan. "I was hoping Diana's findings were flawed, but two studies have turned that hope into denial."

"I was repeating someone else's work?!"

"Calm down, Myriam," Jarvis said as he pulled the tablet to his chest. "While her results corroborated Tarian's logs, I couldn't leave something like this to a single study."

"Did her work provide you with anything useful?"

Jarvis's head swayed back and forth as he flicked the device on. "I am not sure, but hopefully, your combined efforts will provide clarity. While I examine everything, please have all the bodies incinerated."

"You want me to burn their dead?"

Jarvis sighed as his eyes glazed over. "Despite their appearance, these studies prove those monsters have a shared history with us. As a result, they deserve to be laid to rest. Unfortunately, we don't have the time to bury them. Use Cecile's cannons to vaporize the remains."

Reaching for her radio, Myriam swallowed a groan. "If you insist."

With a nod, Jarvis whirled about and left. As he hurried down the hall, Fenton fell in beside him. He pointed at the device. "There's a rumor spreading that our enemies are related to our ancestors."

"I already knew that."

Fenton stopped and spun Jarvis around. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

Jarvis shrugged out of Fenton's grasp and shoved his face next to his. "Tarian's logs are filled with useful information...

When the door slammed shut, Olyver jumped to his feet. “We’re heading back to the stars.”

Caitlin sighed, burying her head in her hands. “That’s not what Lambert told us, Olyver.”

Olyver sat on the desk’s edge and glared at her. “Lambert said they completed the structure. Last month, the frame needed four weeks before anyone could survive outside of the space dock.”

“A projection based on borrowed crews and atmosphere processors.” Caitlin plucked a pen off her desk as she rubbed her brow. With a steadying breath, she whirled it about her fingers. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “Isn’t that right?”

“Those workers bought us time,” Olyver objected as he gestured with his hands. “So why are you treating progress like a problem?”

“We have to reassign them.” Caitlin slammed her pen down, punctuating her words.

Olyver sighed as he gripped his desk’s edge. “When did Quinn enter the office?”

She jumped to her feet and leaned over her desk. “You knew this measure wouldn’t last. Every extra week on the ship delays important planetary infrastructure, not to mention vital tools for colonization.”

“Such as?”

“The eastern anchors,” Caitlin said, rising to her full height, “and the processors Lambert says will miss calibration if their crews don’t return before the next supply cycle.”

“Fine,” Olyver waved at her as he paced about their shared office. “The loan ends before it becomes theft.”

“We drafted a schedule for shifting the workers’ focus.” Caitlin nodded her head and withdrew a document from a drawer. She walked to Olyver’s desk and laid it down. “Please review and sign the official transfer.”

Olyver lifted it and reviewed the words. When he finished, his gaze rose to hers. “When did you and Quinn find time to draft this?”

“Soon after arranging for the influx of workers.” She turned and returned to her seat. Caitlin reclaimed her pen and pointed at the document resting on Quinn’s desk. “Lambert warned us that the loan had a hard edge. Keep them longer, and the first colonists may have a ship before they have somewhere safe to settle.”

Olyver looked away as he dropped the transfer. “But why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“We did.” Caitlin’s smile warmed as she thrust her pen at the document. “You’re voicing your concerns now.”

Olyver’s knuckles whitened as he forced a question through his sneer. “Why not bring this kind of decision to me earlier?”

“Because you were talking with your constituents,” Caitlin said. “Sign it. Then you can tell them the ship gained three weeks without stealing six from the platforms.”

Grumbling Olyver plucked the pad off his desk and read through the proposal again...

As the radio crackled to life, Jarvis pulled it to his ear. “Fenton, talk to me.”

“This is the third thrust the horde’s prepared today. Where are they finding more bodies?”

“Who knows?” With a grunt, Jarvis peered through a hatch. “Just remember your targets. We can’t waste energy targeting the same creatures.”

“We’ll handle the medium threats, but we’d appreciate proof that those upgraded cannons exist and work.”

“Cecile should have more soon.”

“Are you talking about a normal person’s definition... or hers?”

Jarvis pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his face. As he returned the damp cloth, he nudged the gunner wielding the altered prototype. “I’m hopeful we’ll receive more soon.”

“That means we’re using Cecile’s ambiguous interpretation.”

“She’s converting several at once, and she insists the process is complicated. We have one flexible weapon capable of eradicating huge swaths of these monsters.” Jarvis switched the radio for a scope and examined the assembling creatures emerging from the distant treeline. “While you handle the infantry, my gunners will deal with those walking trees.”

“Roger that. Then we’ll trust you to neutralize whatever air support materializes.”

“This assault doesn’t have any of those pesky flyers,” Jarvis said as he moved to another hatch. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t appear once the charge starts. If they do, they’re our problem. I don’t want your attention drifting off those green skins.”

“Roger that.”

“Get ready.” Jarvis switched the radio’s channel and activated it. “Cecile, where are those upgraded cannons?”

“We need another thirty minutes for the full batch!”

Jarvis’s fist slammed into the bulkhead, and as he pulled it away, a few droplets of blood tumbled from his fingers. “I don’t expect our relentless enemy to sit and wait while you finish tinkering. Bring whatever weapons are finished!”

Jarvis switched off his radio and rushed to the gunner wielding the prototype. He squeezed Gerald’s shoulder and kneeled beside him. “Gerald, target the most densely packed sections of their infantry.”

When the gunner activated the weapon, the hum thundered through the chamber. “I remember the warnings, though I’d rather start thinning them out now.”

“I understand the frustration, but they seem to have an endless supply of bodies.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like our problem.”

“Don’t worry. They’re not going to keep us waiting long.”

Gerald pulled the scope to his eye as his fingers whitened around the weapon’s grip. “That wasn’t comforting. Hopefully, my stomach will settle once they charge.”

A woman to Gerald’s right snorted as her head twisted. “I’ll remind you of that once the onslaught reaches us.”

Jarvis stepped between them as he studied the undulating creatures...

“Hello, sister,” Leodor said, sitting down beside Tiatha. “Have you been providing extra lessons?”

With a sigh, she laid the book on her chest as she leaned away from him. “Do you object to my giving certain pupils extra attention?”

“No,” Leodor said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m simply surprised they’re willing to take on extra work from you.”

Haughty laughter bubbled out of her lips as she tossed the book onto the table. “Humiliation is a wonderful motivator.”

As Leodor’s lips twitched, blue illumination flared from the bookshelf. Tiatha’s chair skittered across the floor as she pointed at the swelling light. “Didn’t you tell me that your teachers were incapable of creating portals?”

“No one can…”

Tiatha inched closer to the expanding opening while a pale golden light wrapped around her fingers. “Then who’s forcing their way into your school?”

“I don’t know.” Leodor shook his head as blue electricity crackled across his shoulders. “My wards prevent all but the most skilled from opening a way inside the grounds.”

With a silent explosion, the light imploded into a swirling vortex as a lean man wielding a spear stepped through the maelstrom. His gaze swept across the library, stopping when he found Leodor and Tiatha. His lips curled into a predatory smile as he thumped the weapon against the ground as if driving in a nail.

“We have a Hunter,” Tiatha said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a bookshelf. “Would you like the first strike?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t dealt with him yet,” Leodor said, stepping between his sister and the intruder. “However, I’d be willing to lead our rebuttal.”

“It would appear that I have located a couple of rogues.” The intruder’s spear leapt into the air, whirling over his head. “The council will smile upon me for collecting a pair of criminals.”

“Counting your prizes is useless if you’re not alive to collect them.” Leodor shook his head as he thrust a slender finger toward the invader. “Why don’t you Hunters ever learn from your mistakes?”

The Hunter’s laughter rebounded off the bookshelves while a bolt of electricity lanced from the whirling spear. As it raced across the room, Leodor spun out of its path, letting it collide with the stone floor behind him. While debris flew about the room, a pair of bolts erupted from Leodor’s fingertip, racing toward the Hunter...

“Jarvis, order the teams to cease firing,” Cecile said, poking into the crow’s nest.

After the dragon’s neck and wing vaporized, Jarvis shoved his gun at his teammate and rushed to Cecile, catching her by the shoulders. “We can’t stop using these weapons.”

Cecile ripped Jarvis’s hands from her and thumped his chest. “If you keep them running at this rate, the upgrades won’t matter. They’ll blow up.”

The closest gunner’s hands slipped from the cannon’s grips as he backed away. “What did you say?!”

“Keep those dragons off the wall!” Jarvis spun around and lowered his voice. “I thought your upgrades fixed that problem.”

“This kind of continual fire wasn’t part of my design.” She planted her hands on her hips before gripping the collar of his shirt and forcing him to look at the cannons. “Stop overusing these guns!”

Jarvis pinched his nose as he shook his head. “What are the odds they’ll detonate?”

“You want to risk blowing the cannons up?!”

Jarvis steered the engineer against the doorframe and pitched his voice so only she could understand him. “We’re dealing with about a dozen dragons ferrying minotaurs and trolls over the walls. Our regular rifles can’t harm those beasts. Those odds matter.”

Cecile kneaded her forehead and groaned. “With this kind of load, the odds of catastrophic failure rise to somewhere between ten and fifteen percent.”

“Can we keep them from exploding?”

Her shoulders fell as her back hit the doorframe. “Before the cannons blow up, they will start whining. As soon as you hear the whine, fire one controlled shot to bleed off the charge, then turn it off.”

“That’ll prevent the weapon from detonating?”

“No, but it’s the best chance to keep them intact.”

“Be an extra set of ears,” Jarvis said as he urged her inside the crow’s nest. As she stumbled into the chamber, he pulled out a radio. “Fenton, how are the walls?”

“The cannons are the only reason the worst hasn’t reached us.”

Wincing, Jarvis tapped the device against the doorjamb. “Stop beating around the bush and spill!”

“Those monsters never run out of corpses to throw at us. The moment we kill one, three more climb over the bodies.”

“Roger that,” Jarvis said, kicking the wall. “Keep doing your job, and I’ll see about thinning the horde.” Jarvis shoved the radio into his belt. He marched across the room and spun Cecile away from the gunners. “How difficult will it be to adjust the cannons?”

“That depends,” Cecile said as her eyes flicked toward the nearest cannon...