Lost Loot of Lornius

[SirArtemis]

I waited until late morning when the sun fully illuminated the portcullis. Swimming down again with bright light to support my search, I found what looked like a sigil to the side of the entryway. I rubbed away as much of the algae as I could. Given the size of the insignia, it was relatively easy to determine the shapes. Surprisingly, the markings looked rather familiar. The design showed a hammer striking an anvil, laid upon the backdrop of a large flame; it was the same symbol that was on the ring I wore, which had been a gift from the Norlond brothers – dwarves. The only difference was that this hammer struck the anvil from the left, whereas the image I had grown familiar with struck from the right. I swam up and reached for the handle of the hammer, guessing that correcting the image may do something. I pushed the handle up, turning it forcefully like the hand of a clock so it pivoted at the mallot-end of the tool, until a resounding click caused the rumble of the portcullis.

The gate began to drag upward, and the handle of the hammer slowly returned to its original position. A school of fish rushed past me, their scales glimmering in the morning sun as they fled the gateway in fear. The long-closed entrance eased up to grant me access, and I swam in, grateful for the magic in my body that made breathing unnecessary. Twenty meters in, I was able to break the surface of the water and enter a chamber that glowed blue-white from enclosed sconces lining the walls. The light almost multiplied in the enclosed chamber as moisture reflected the fluorescence.

I climbed out of the salty water onto what looked like a small dock made of fine stone and metalwork. It was easy to see it was the handiwork of skilled craftsmen. All these years and time hadn’t done a damn thing to wear away at this talented touch. I glanced down at my ring, making a note to talk to Bazzak and Nalin about their family history when I found a moment.

The water rolled off my armor and undersuit, their repellent nature leaving me comfortably dry and thankful for that fact. I gave my hair a quick rub and wiped my face, then glanced over the sharp edge that I’d scaled to exit the water. I could see the remaining portion of the dock submerged nearly two meters beneath the surface. Off in the distance, the rumble of the portcullis closing rippled through the water and filled the small chamber. Perhaps this island had sunk a bit during the last couple centuries. Strangely the air did not feel stale, which felt even more confusing.

Up ahead a single doorway of metal, with a large face carved into it, blocked my path. As I approached, the face came to life, eyes blinking and lips smacking like coming out of a drunken haze.

“Ahhh, how long has it been?” the face asked. “Everything feels so sticky.”

I raised an eyebrow at the spectacle. It was certainly strange, but after the things I'd seen my wizardly friend Daros do, little surprised me. “I’m really not sure,” I answered, glancing about to gauge the state of my surroundings. “Based on the water levels and tides, the algae growth levels, and my general intuition, there’s a good chance you haven’t been woken in centuries.”

“Aye, it certainly feels so. And who might you be? What brings you to this place?”

“I seek schematics. Designs. The work of the dwarves that have long since abandoned this place.”

“Not abandoned,” the face replied, “fled.”

“Fled from what?”

“The corruption.”

“Corruption?” I asked, my brow furrowing. “I never heard of such corruption. What can you tell me?”

“You are a member of the clan, are you not? How do you not know your own history?”

“A member of the clan? What?” Then I remembered – the ring. It wasn’t just ornamental. It stored magic within, and when the seal that locked away my inherent magical ability broke, I absorbed a good deal of the magical properties of my enchanted items worn at the time. I imagine the ring’s magic seeped into me, and so part of me belonged to the lost Dwarven clan of Lornius. The Norlond brothers . . . so many questions.

“It has been many centuries since the last dwarves were here. There are clansmen that have survived. But they do not share the story of any corruption. Would you share what you know?”

“Ah, perhaps it is gone,” the face said, closing its eyes momentarily as though in concentration. “Now that I am awake, it feels faint within. I sense you are strong. I shall grant you access. You will find the results of the corruption within. Take care inside. You will find your answers. Perhaps it is time the clan returns.”

With that, the door opened, allowing me inside. I just shook my head, walking through the doorway and worrying about asking questions later. For now, all that mattered was that I’d found a way in.