Chapter 12: Myrkheim

After our group trotted on our equines through the woods, I began to doubt the accuracy of the bearings King Regnavius divulged. At the edge of the woods was a stony valley with a shallow copper-coloured stream in the middle. It surely did not look like we were heading towards the sophisticated city of Myrkheim. Were we given the directions to an execution chamber instead?

Twang!

I frowned. I was sure that sounded like a ballista firing. My thought was confirmed when a huge projectile which looked like a spear plunged into the stream, narrowly missing us and spraying the mysterious liquid all over us. I refused to speculate why the liquid smelt suspiciously like urine. Grubby and Stump simultaneously yelped in surprise, while everyone else gagged in disgust. Then without further warning, the valley was filled with the echoing cacophony of multiple ballistae unleashing a hail of projectiles at us.

“Incoming fire! Go! Go! Go!” Urf yelled as he forced my horse into a gallop. Though, everyone else did not need much encouragement as they were already galloping ahead.

I kept a watchful eye over my teammates as I zigzagged through the narrow streamside passage, jumping from cover to cover. Winter and Oliver attempted to erect a force field over us to shield us from the projectiles. Unfortunately, whenever an arrow hit the force field, the Aura shield flickered and I could see Winter and Oliver sweating as they reinforced the shield. When approximately the sixteenth projectile hit, the shield disintegrated on impact. By then, Oliver and Winter were in no condition to create another shield as they were both struggling to stay conscious from exhaustion.

I wondered how a ballista could have enough power to bring down such a powerful defense system created by two powerful mages. I eyed the missiles, wondering if they were magically enhanced to boost speed and power. As I investigated one arrow, I realised that it had the words ‘Made in Myrkheim” engraved on the shaft of the arrow.

“Get to cover! Gather around!” I hollered.

Everyone lunged for shelter behind a giant boulder. As ballista missiles ricocheted off the boulder like lethal rain hitting an umbrella, we discussed a plan to pass the unforgiving hail of projectiles.

“Guys, this is not a regular attack, we are under friendly fire by the dwarves.” I shouted over the din of the ballistae.

“How the heck do we tell ‘em not to keep firing?” Oliver yelled back.

We all looked around until one by one we placed our eyes on Grubby. Even Imbeseel seemed to have found the same solution as us … or maybe he just followed what everyone else was doing.

“Uhhh, what are you looking at?” Grubby asked.

“Well mate, ye know that thingamajig ye did when we were attacked by da forest elves?” Oliver sheepishly said.

“What! You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Grubby exclaimed.

“Dude, this is life and death!” Urf yelled.

“Fine, fine…but only under one condition. That you avert your eyes.” Grubby grumbled.

We all looked away. I was hoping to get another peek at Grubby’s hilariously unmanly underpants, but alas, one cannot have the best of both worlds.

Seconds later, the bombardment of ballistae ceased and we peeked from the cover of the boulder just in case they were simply drawing us out to the open. Grubby had already put his boxers back on.

Clank! Clank! Clank!

I peeked out again and I could not believe what I saw. Giant bronze humanoid automatons the size of trolls were lumbering towards us. On one shoulder of each electronic soldier was a flamethrower; on the other was a miniature ballista. The only non-robotic parts of the metal colossuses were their heads which were simply helmeted heads of dwarfs.

“Oh whoopsie…the ‘goblins’ we caught are actually some humans and mystic elves.” A bald dwarf with a scarlet beard said accusingly to the other dwarf as he gestured towards us.

“C’mon bruv. It’s hard enough to see ‘em far away. But when they’re real running fast it just ain’t possible!” The other dwarf with brown hair complained in a slurry accent. He talked so fast that I had to listen to the echoes of the valley in order to understand.

“The only reason why they started running in the first place was to dodge the ballistae missiles you were sicking at them!” The bald dwarf countered.

“Ahem!” Winter coughed loudly.

Both dwarves’ ears reddened slightly as they snapped to attention.

“Welcome to Myrkheim, mystic elves and humans. State your names and business.” The bald dwarf said.

“I am James Dolan. To my left is Imbeseel. Behind him is Oliver Duncan. To his right is Winter Dawn. Behind me is Urf. Next to him is Grubby. To my right is Stump.” I said, pointing out people in accordance to when I say their names.

“I’m Krugg.” The bald dwarf said.

“And I’m Daek.” The fast speaking dwarf said, or at least what I think he said due to the speed of his speech. “So whadya doin’ here?”

“We are here because we need help to sharpen Excalibur in order to kill Alyximeme.” Stump blabbed.

I winced at Stump’s genuine honesty, making mental preparations in case the dwarves would perhaps reveal themselves as servants of Dark Magic and then proceed to murder us.

“Oh…come with us then. Our King has been long expecting you,” Krugg said gravely, his previous enthusiasm gone.

Krugg and Daek led us to the entrance of Myrkheim. I later apprehended that Myrkheim was an underground community. We had to wind through a maze of boulders before we reached its gate. We would have easily gotten lost if not for our guides.

The entrance was a rectangular tunnel opening on the side of a mountain. It was flanked by two schist dwarf statues in armor holding axes. The frame of the entrance gate was created out of smooth marble in contrast to the rough, sandpapery gravel of the terrain surrounding it. The big billboard on top of the gate displayed “Welcome to Myrkheim. Trespassing and Loitering is Prohibited. Dragons, Trolls, and Other Dark Magic Creatures will be met with Death.”

The inside of the cave was made out of smooth metal with delicate designs and patterns on the sides which curled over the torches that illuminated the tunnel. The air smelt of dead rats. A portrait of their patron Shadowlord and founder, Hephaestus, was crafted with gold ridges and exhibited at the end of the tunnel. I avoided looking directly at the picture’s face because Hephaestus held the unkindly title of the Ugly Shadowlord. It was rumoured that you could easily vomit out your recent meal just from looking at him.

After walking down the tunnel for several minutes, we arrived at the exit of the corridor. We stood on a ledge above the skyline of Myrkheim which was only accessible by the tunnel behind us or an uneven stairway which stretched to the floor of the vast cavern in which Myrkheim was built in. We peered down at the city.

In front of us stood a city completely made from rock and metal. The ceiling of the subterranean nation could not be seen through the dense blanket of pollution originated from the smoky forges that peppered the city. Looking down there were ant-sized dwarves travelling around on mechanic horses with steam blowing out of their creaking circuits.

In the center of the city was what must be a palace. The palace was a humongous pyramid entirely created out of twenty-four carat gold. It rose higher than the skyline until the tip scratched the clouds of pollution. Grooves which streaked the sides of the pyramid were revealed to be markings in a picture of Hephaestus lobbing molotov cocktails at a crowd of goblins. While admiring the gold palace, I accidentally gazed upon Hephaestus’ face and immediately regretted it. Hephaestus’s face was so ridden with warts and pimples that his head looked like a bunch of grapes with a mop of hair on top. His overweight stomach jutted out behind his apron. He had stick thin arms which were slightly too long and a mechanical leg. I quickly looked away and imagined looking at my own face with my impeccable mustache. Fortunately, that stopped the involuntary reaction that was initiating from the pit of my stomach.

Krugg and Daek left us to make our own way to the palace. We were told that their King had summoned us to meet him in the Throne Room of the palace. After winding through the crowded streets of Myrkheim for over an hour, we finally reached the base of the golden pyramid. I was thankful that the pyramid was so tall and conspicuous or we might have spent days trying to locate it through the bustling metropolis.

The palace entrance was very grandeur with two large golden doors and a long red carpet draped over the golden steps leading up to it. We tied our horses and unicorns to the pillars on either side of the entrance and made our way up the red-carpeted steps. After reaching the top of the steps, the golden doors automatically threw open for us. After jumping from hallway to large rooms to staircase to hallway to large rooms to staircase, we somehow found our way to the Throne Room, which was at the tip-top of the pyramid. I was surprised we did not see a soul for the whole journey since entering the palace and no one bothered to ask us why we were here or volunteered to show us the way around. However, since I was so dizzy from the zigzagging journey, I could not be bothered to bring up my curiosity to my teammates.

The giant doors opened with an eerie squeal, breaking the silence in the room. Inside the Throne Room, everything was made with gold, including the walls, the throne, the floor, and the ceiling. My eyes could barely open with all the shimmer. Guards with similar gear to Krugg and Daek stood on both sides of the golden throne. Behind the throne stood a giant anvil, again made out of gold. On top of the gold anvil was a golden set of armor missing a helmet. The suit of armor had two axes on its back, a dwarven sword, and an impressively huge hammer, so big and heavy that the shaft was also made of hardened iron reinforced with molybdenum. The head of the hammer was a hexagonal prism the size of those old square-shaped television and was made out of gold. There was so much gold everywhere it was starting to make my stomach feel queasy. Or was it from looking at the picture of Hephaestus?

On top of the cushioned gold throne, was King Danewort. King Danewort had a maroon beard and mustache. He wore a bearskin cape and a simple yet stylish gold chain mail tunic over his regular clothes. I felt a twinge of jealousy. Even with my indomitable mustache, I did not look that good in armor!

King Danewort’s crown was made out of gold and extended to three feet tall. In the middle of the crown was a ten-karat diamond with two sapphires on each side overlapping each other. The rest of the crown was designed with intricate golden patterns. He would definitely have won the best crown competition if it existed.

The design of, well, everything was breathtaking but I did not have time to admire the beauty of dwarf craftsmanship.

On the right side of King Danewort was an elderly dwarf with white hair and beard braided into two paths with no loose hair. King Danewort and that dwarf were looking at a war map. On the left side of him was an automaton that was hammered into a boar made out of steel and bronze. When its red laser eyes narrowed on my chest, it growled and bared its teeth.

“Yoohoo,” Daek appeared out of nowhere and shouted to get everyone’s attention.

“Ah, welcome, weary travellers. I am King Danewort and this is my vizier, Snorri Sturluson, you may recognise him as the author of Prosa Edda.”

“Prose Edda, milord,” said the vizier.

“Ah, yes Prose Edda.” King Danewort dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand.

“So why have you summoned us here, your majesty?” I asked.

“Ar…” King Danewort poked the tip of his long beard in one ear as he explained, “I heard about your quest to kill Alyximeme. I know that you have managed to extract the presently useless Excalibur from those moronic forest elves. Myrkheim is the only place in all dimensions where Excalibur can be transformed to be useful in battle again. You need our help. But… we need your help a tiny bit more…”

“We dwarves are at war with those goblin vermin. You see, ever since we liberated Myrkheim from those horrible Dark Magic creatures, they have been popping back attempting to once again take over my kingdom. Tunneling goblins would randomly pop up in populated areas in Nidavellir and catapult rocks at our defenses. If we sent out an army to attack goblinheim, the army would be demolished by tunnelling orcs and trolls. When Alyximeme came along it became a thousand times worse. Minataurs, beastly hulks with humanoid bodies and heads of bulls came and caused maximum havoc, ” the dwarf king continued.

“We would gladly sharpen Excalibur for you on two conditions. One: Excalibur is mine after Alyximeme is dead. Two: In case you try to double cross me and instead give Excalibur to the treacherous forest elves, I need you to leave one of your teammates here. You can come back to collect this teammate once you return after killing Alyximeme and hand over Excalibur to me.” King Danewort finished his monologue with an evil smile.

“What if we disagree?” Urf asked.

“No one who disagrees with me has ever left Myrkheim alive. Your public execution is scheduled for tomorrow morning at ten AM should you not take up my generous offer. I will still be able to acquire Excalibur after your deaths.” King Danewort replied with a murderous glint in his eyes.

“Can I ask for one condition too?” I asked. Everyone turned to look at me and wondered whether I would be asking for food, water, weapons or soldiers.

I took a deep breath and used all my guts to reveal my ultimate reason for visiting Myrkheim, “I would agree to your two conditions if you would share your facial hair grooming tips with me.”

Everyone glared at me as if I was out of my mind. What? My mustache was not going to tailor itself!

“Of course, I would be happy to!” The dwarf king laughed.

“Okay. Deal!” I said enthusiastically in relieve.

Urf looked at me in disgust and whispered angrily in my ear, “What on earth are you doing? Are you crazy? Did you know you’ve just made a promise to the second person to give them Excalibur? We only have one Excalibur. How do you propose we give it to two persons at the same time? Beautifying yourself would not get us out of this mess!”

“Look, we can deal with this problem later. Just get on with killing Alyximeme and then we can think about what to do after that. It’s not like we have a choice here. Might as well make the most of it and get what I want as well.” I said.

“So…which one of your teammates do you choose to leave behind in my kingdom of Myrkheim?” King Danewort asked.

That was a tough question. Maybe I should be the one to stay behind so I could spend more time to master the art of mustache crafting. Or should it be Urf? But Urf was excellent at problem solving. What about Grubby? But his combat prowess might come to use in battle. Imbeseel? No…his brute strength was second to none, so we needed him. Maybe Stump? That would make me seem irresponsible though. We could not ditch the mystic elves, as they were essential aids kindly given to us by Qeer. We needed them to get pass the Ravenwall.

Everyone else was silent.

“Okay. Agreed.” King Danewort said.

I raised an eyebrow. Nobody had given a suggestion. What was King Danewort agreeing too? I turned around and saw Imbeseel yawning as he stretched his arm sideways, sticking his finger out towards…Grubby.