Heated
Derilion the Lightbringer removed her sword from the bulbous creature, pus still seeping from its many boils her blade had severed in the fight. The sticky liquid mingled with its blood as it spread across the floor; she would have to clean her clothes once she got out of these maddening caves.
There was a noise behind her. Immediately, she spun on her feet, weapon ready. Behind her, a figure stood in the shadows.
“Great,” a man’s voice said from the gloom. “Just great.”
“Who’s there?” Derilion asked. “Show yourself.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s not my fault everywhere is so poorly lit.” The figure shuffled forward; arms raised. He was not as old as he sounded. In fact, they were probably of equal age. He had the colouration of a dark elf, but not the ears, carried an empty sack in one hand, and a short sword in the other.
“Who are you?” the adventurer asked.
“I am nameless,” the figure said. “Don’t really need a name when your every day includes clearing the dead and skulking around monsters without speech.” Derilion watched as he put the sacks on the floor. “Look, I don’t know if you’re hanging around, but if you are, would you mind putting some of those in here.” The man pointed to the pile of bones that had first alerted Derilion to the presence of the slain creature.
The adventurer had never been asked to tidy a kill up before. She thought about it, tipped her head to listen for any new enemies, then sheathed her sword. She bent, picked up a sack and started to put the bones into it.
The man shuffled back into the shadows. She heard some noises, before watching him reappear with a rolled-up stretcher, which he placed next to the body. He held his nose whilst moving the creature onto its side.
“Never quite get used to the smell,” he said and pushed it with his foot so that it rolled onto the stretcher. “Now, normally I have to drag these, but since you helped me with the bones, perhaps you get the other side.”
“Where are we going?”
“The morgue,” the man said, putting his hands around the two poles at the front of the stretcher. “I’m the mortician. Just put the sacks on top, grab the back, and lift. I’ll guide.”
The pathway he led them into was pitch black. The adventurer had come this way but hadn’t seen its entrance. Now, the pair of them wound downward, first heading left, then crossing back to the right. This path was, no doubt, a shortcut.
“Wait,” the man said. The Lightbringer heard him mumble something under his breath, and light flooded the passage as an exit appeared in front of them, with steps leading upwards. They started walking forward once more, ascended the thankfully short staircase, and emerged into the morgue. A big furnace roared in one corner. The man changed direction and headed toward a strange horizontal wide belt which inclined after a few feet. “Tip it onto here,” he said, and Derilion complied.
He then rolled the stretcher back up, leant it against the wall, and walked over to a large wheel set beside the belt. He started to turn it. The belt began to move, transporting the body first along and then up. Derilion could see what was going to happen. The belt folded around on itself above the furnace, depositing the carcass into the flames.
“This is how we keep the caves so warm,” the mortician said. “The hot air produced rises within the walls. So, you’re an important part of the whole system. Without warriors killing the creatures, we’d all be pretty cold. Plus, we get rid of the bodies. You can’t have rotting bodies littering the place. Think of the disease alone. No adventurer would ever come down here.”
“I was after the Resurrection Robe. It was rumoured to be down here.”
The mortician smiled and nodded.
“I’ve heard of it, for sure. Used to be one of the main draws a few years back. Whether it’s still here, I couldn’t tell you.” He kept turning the wheel, and the body continued to move.
“How long have you been here?”
“Dunno. Ten years I reckon. I just sort of appeared here. Don’t know if I was anywhere else before. It happens a lot in this place. An empty cavern one day could be teeming with imps or the lair of a dragon the next. It’s an odd life, but if you accept it, it’s fairly predictable.”
“I suppose.” The bulbous creature’s remains reached the end of the belt and fell with a sickening thud into the furnace. The mortician stopped turning the wheel and walked over to a seat next to a table.
“It’s been a bit slow lately. The last death we had was a couple of days ago, and that was from old age.” He peered at the table with a frown. Derilion walked over and looked at the wooden top. She saw nothing strange.
“What are you looking at?”
“It’s a map of the caves. You can’t see it. You need these.” He raised a finger and tapped his eyeball. It made a ‘tink, tink’ sound like it was made of ceramic. “It was on the table when I first appeared. I can see everyone in here. If something dies, it goes red. Shows all the shortcuts, too.”
“Sounds very useful,” she said.
“Oh, it is.”
The Lightbringer looked at the man hunched over the table. All of his concentration was on the invisible map. She could finish him off in a couple of seconds, but her intuition was telling her to leave him alone.
“Well, I’ll be off then,” she said. “It was nice talking to you. No doubt run into you again down here.”
“Yep,” he said, without looking around.
Derilion backed towards the nearest door, her left hand resting on her belt. She reached backwards, still not taking her eyes off him, and felt the handle of the door behind her. She twisted the handle, but it didn’t open. The Lightbringer was not surprised.
The man at the table sighed and stood up.
“You people usually try and attack me, so I suppose that’s different.” He turned to face the adventurer, and now she could see a faint red glow behind those eyes. “I don’t want to kill you, but we need the heat. I’m sure you understand.”
Derilion nodded.
“I understand,” she said, unsheathing her sword.
She heard the man laugh as he moved within striking range. The Lightbringer’s left arm flicked from her waist and the powder she’d retrieved from her belt headed towards his face. As she watched, he vanished, and the explosive sailed on and hit the wheel behind him. There was a crack, and the belt machine first burst into flames and then tilted over and hit the floor.
“Tut, tut,” the man said from behind her. Derilion rolled forward just as she felt the tip of his short sword touch the back of her cloak. There was pain there, but nothing too bad. “You’re quick,” he said with admiration.
Derilion readied herself for another attack. She brought her shield around and held it in front of her. She watched him saunter forward.
“There’s no point…” he began to say. Derilion thrust her sword forward, but once again, he vanished. She heard a noise to the right and felt his blade pierce her skin. The pain was unbearable as it did untold damage to her insides. She fell to the ground and watched as the man cleaned his blade on his jerkin. “Ah, well,” he said.
He turned his back and went over to the machine. He muttered some words and the flames died out. The mortician looked at it for a moment, then bent, put his arms beneath the belt and lifted. It took all his strength, but he righted it.
“Now, that’s better…”
The sword decapitated him mid-sentence. His head hit the floor, and the ceramic eye fell from its socket, rolled, and rested looking up at the Lightbringer. She bent, picked it up and placed it in front of her eye. When she looked at the table, she could indeed see all the creatures, rooms and passageways. She was only interested in one; the way out. She found it, and once memorised, left the eye on the table.
She reached around and grabbed a handful of her cloak. It didn’t look special, but then so little rarely did.
“The Resurrection Robe,” she said to herself and smiled.
She headed off to the door she needed and walked through.
Ten minutes or so later, there was fizzing noise, then a pop. A one-eyed man appeared standing at the table, looking confused.
“Where am I?” he said. Then, “Who am I?”
He saw the ceramic eye and instinctively put it in his empty socket. The table in front of him sprung into life.
“I see,” he said. “I see.”