Albrek's Tomb

“What I must,” answered Alex. “We can’t go back and we need help to go on. I must face this evil sooner or later. What other path is open to us?”

“Advance and be recognized,” the voice commanded, interrupting Thrang’s next question.

Alex and his friends moved forward.

When they approached a small grove of trees, the voice called out, “Hold.”

Alex and the others stopped and waited. For several minutes nothing happened, and then an old-looking dwarf stepped out of the trees and moved toward them.

“So, young man,” said the old dwarf, looking at Alex. “You say you will end the evil and remove the curse from this city.”

“I will if I can,” answered Alex.

“A wise answer.” The old dwarf laughed grimly, and then turned to Thrang. “We welcome you, Master Silversmith, and your company. We will do what we can for you, and aid you however possible. Lord Turlock will wish to meet with you when we enter the city, and question you further about your adventure.”

“We will be pleased to meet Lord Turlock and answer any questions we can,” said Thrang with a bow.

The old dwarf did not return Thrang’s bow, but simply looked at them all for a moment, and then motioned for them to follow as he started back toward the trees.

Neplee, as it turned out, was extremely well hidden, and Alex saw Thrang stare in surprise and wonder at the great stone doors carved into the mountainside.

“They were made with ancient magic,” the old dwarf said. “In a time before darkness came to Neplee.”

“Such art has long been lost,” said Thrang. “If it has been found again, word should have been sent to King Thorgood.”

“Yes, it should have,” the old dwarf agreed but said nothing more.

Alex and his companions entered a vast hall, its ceiling supported by dozens of stone pillars that looked like giant gray trees. The hall was empty except for a single chair placed near a large fireplace at the far end of the hall. A troubled-looking dwarf sat in the chair, staring into the low-burning fire. As the company approached, he looked up and quickly stood to greet them.

“Master Silversmith, I am Lord Turlock. I know of you, though we have never met,” said the dwarf, bowing to Thrang. “I ask that you forgive our less than generous welcome, but as I’m sure you’ve seen, these are not happy times in Neplee.”

“We have seen some of your troubles,” said Thrang, returning the bow. “But tell us, Lord Turlock, what has happened here? Why have you not sent word to Kazad-Syn, or even Benorg? I’m sure King Thorgood would have sent all the aid he could.”

“Yes, I’m sure he would have,” said Turlock. “But his help would have done us no good, and more of our people would be under the curse that holds us here. But I am forgetting my ma

Thrang quickly introduced the company to Turlock. Turlock bowed to each of them in turn and then called for chairs to be brought for them all. Once his guests were seated, Turlock returned to his own chair, his eyes returning to the fire as if he were alone and deep in thought.

“I am sorry you have been caught up in this,” said Turlock after a long silence. “I am sorry that we did not see this trouble coming long ago and put an end to it when we had the chance.”

“You speak of the necromancer,” said Alex.

“Yes,” said Turlock, his eyes fixing on Alex’s. “We should have guessed, but at the time there was no way to know. He did so much good for the city, we never thought he could become so evil.”

“You knew him? Before?” Alex questioned.

“I knew him when he was Nethrom,” Turlock answered in a weak voice, his eyes returning to the fire. “He was gifted in learning, and he had some magical abilities. It was he who learned the ancient magic that hides our city gate. The libraries of Neplee are large, and some of the books in it are very old.”

“And this Nethrom learned his magic from those books?” Thrang asked in a puzzled tone. “Magical books are uncommon in dwarf libraries, and few dwarfs have ever been able to read what is written in them.”

“He learned some things in the library here,” answered Turlock, sounding tired. “Including the existence of a hidden cave in the high mountains beyond the city. The cave was supposed to be guarded by ghosts, or magic, or maybe both. Nethrom became obsessed with the story of the cave, and he spent years looking for it. We became used to seeing him go into the mountains for weeks at a time. He always returned in a dark and unhappy mood.”

“But he eventually found the cave,” Alex coaxed, trying to understand what Nethrom had gone through in his years of searching.

“Yes, he must have,” said Turlock. “It was summer when he went into the mountains, as he always did. When he came back, he was full of happiness. We knew he had found the cave, but we never guessed what was inside of it, and Nethrom never said.”

“At first, Nethrom put his powers to good use,” said Kat suddenly, and Turlock’s head jerked up to look at her. “He learned much about healing and the old dwarf magic, and he used this knowledge to help his people and protect the city of Neplee.”

“Yes,” Turlock whispered.

“Then, without warning, he changed,” Kat went on. “He no longer helped his people, but demanded payment for his services. If the sick could not pay his price, he would do nothing to help them. It was as if Nethrom was no longer the same dwarf he had once been.”

“All that you say is true,” said Turlock, a questioning look on his face as he glanced from Kat to Alex.

“My friend is a seer,” said Alex. “She has felt Nethrom’s presence, or rather, the presence of what Nethrom has become.”

“A wizard, a seer, and a party of adventurers? Perhaps I should feel hope, but I do not,” said Turlock, shaking his head. “I would advise you to leave this place as soon as possible. We will provide you with horses, but I doubt they will last long against the hellerash.”

“There are no more hellerash,” said Thrang. “Alex has freed you of that curse already.”

“You’ve driven them off?” Turlock questioned in surprise.

“I’ve destroyed them,” answered Alex, turning his own gaze to the fire.

“Perhaps there is hope after all, but I would still advise you to leave,” Turlock said, his eyes fixed on Alex.

“The weather is turning, and we may have to winter here,” said Thrang in a worried tone. “We need to search the mountains for traces of Albrek and his people.”

“Albrek?” Turlock asked as if remembering something.

“Our quest is not to destroy the hellerash, or to fight the necromancer who called them back from the dead,” Thrang explained.

“No, of course not,” said Turlock, smiling in a tired sort of way. “I fear you will find little record of Albrek or his company in these mountains. Legend says that he did stop here during his wanderings, but Neplee was already being built. Not wanting to cause conflict, Albrek moved on.”

“Then our quest lies farther south,” said Thrang, glancing at Alex. “If the weather allows, we will move on as soon as possible.”

“I will order that horses be provided for you,” said Turlock.

“How long?” Alex questioned.

“How long?” Turlock repeated, his eyes moving to Alex. “How long what?”

“How long since Nethrom changed?”

“With the coming of the new moon, it will be three years and three moons,” answered Turlock.

Standing suddenly, Turlock raised his hand. Several dwarfs who had been waiting nearby hurried forward, bowing to Turlock and waiting for his command.

“Find rooms for our guests,” Turlock ordered. “Make them comfortable and provide them with refreshment. When they are settled, search the city for whatever horses you can find.”

“Yes, lord,” the dwarfs answered, bowing.

“Perhaps tomorrow we can speak again,” Turlock said, returning to his chair. “And if the weather holds, you can be on your way.”