Chapter 1: Torin and the Underdark

Torin and the Underdark

The scene at the entrance to the old, abandoned mine was a tense one. Three young elves stood there easily, bunched together in a group. The fourth shifted feet nervously, glancing from the mine entrance back to his friends.

"I told you he was afraid," said one to the others.

"I'm not!" Torin protested. "It's just, well, it's getting late and--"

"Oh, it's too late," said one, mocking, to his fellows. "Better run home to your mommy!"

They laughed at each other's antics while Torin stood by awkwardly. He knew he shouldn't be here. He'd been told over and over not to stray out alone. The people in these parts hated and feared the Drow for all that had been done to them in the past. Even though he was only half, Torin looked very much like his father's family.
But he so wanted to fit in, to belong to something. Entering the mine would be breaking the rules and that grated on Torin's conscious. Still, he gripped his bow tighter, staring steadfastly at the entrance. The catcalls and remarks of his friends stung Torin. He devoutly hoped this wasn't another one of their elaborate practical jokes, but even if it was, perhaps they would like him a little better if he just played along.

The sound of their laughter was muffled as soon as Torin squeezed his way into the mine. He pulled out the crude map, staring at the diagram intently. If they hadn't been lying, Torin reasoned, then the map should lead him directly to the treasure.

Very soon, Torin found himself in complete darkness and had to feel along the walls to find his way. Several times he tripped and once he fell. He brushed self-consciously at the dirt, hating the feel of it on his skin and under his fingernails.

He shuddered with the cold, feeling the unnatural silence pressing in on him from all sides. He clutched his bow compulsively, sweat beading on his forehead.

What was I thinking? he asked himself. Then he shook his head. What nonsense! Nothing but tales to frighten the young.

Even still, he glanced back up the tunnel, the desire to flee almost over-powering. Taking a deep breath, he pressed on.

Torin soon lost all sense of time. It seemed as if he had been stumbling along for days but he knew it couldn't have been so long. His feet ached from stumbling along the rocky and uneven path and his toes ached from the many knocks and stubs they'd received.

Hands out, Torin only just managed to halt before he ran face-first into the opposite wall of the intersection. According to the map, he was to go left, so, feeling his way, he managed to reorient himself. Fifty paces further was the other turn and he slowed down in order to find the hole in the side of the tunnel.

The hole was smaller than Torin had expected and his lip curved upwards in disgust at the grime along the mouth of the hole. Grimacing, he pulled his way through, clawing his way in places where the mud and rock had partly collapsed.

Emerging on the other side, Torin let go a deep sigh of relief. He started to brush himself off, but gave it up as a useless gesture. From there, the tunnel began to move noticeably downward and before long Torin could make out the drip, drip of water from an underground spring. The water increased his nervousness, for his friends had made no mention of water down here. The path led closer and closer toward the sound of water and Torin slowed as he saw a faint glow coming from around a turn up ahead.

He walked faster in the light, peering anxiously around the corner. An odd sort of mossy fungus appeared to be the source of the light. Torin touched it cautiously and the slimy fungus glowed for a moment or two on his fingers before fading. Entranced, Torin stepped into the vast cavern. Great stalactites clung to the ceiling, glittering and twinkling with their own growth of fungus. He took two steps and halted, suddenly knee-deep in water.

Uh, he thought, backing up, this isn't good.

Torin swallowed, forcing moisture into his dry mouth. In all the adventuring tales he'd heard told, water was always roiling with monsters. The glowing moss cast an eerie light in the cavern, beautiful, but obscuring the water's surface. The far end of the cavern did not appear too far, but Torin couldn't tell.

As quietly as he could, Torin edged along the rocky bank, halting suddenly. His heart beat loudly in his ears as he listened. He was almost certain he'd heard the water splash, but all he heard was the incessent drip . . drip . . drip of the moisture off the stalacites.

There was another sound that held Torin frozen for long moments, but he could neither identify nor pinpoint where he noise had come from, exactly. The cavern was silent, other than the slow dripping, so Torin eased a little further along.

No good. The water went straight to the walls, from one end to the other of the enormous underground cavern.

Revallre had said nothing of water down here. "Go straight after the crawling bit," he'd said, "there's a huge cavern, then the turn. That'll be on your left."

"Come back with one of these," said Ihistar again, showing Torin the perfect ruby, "and we'll let you in our band."

The other boys displayed their rubies as well, handed Torin the map, and escorted him to the mine entrance.

"Go on," muttered Torin, mimicing Revallre, "there's nothing down there that can hurt you. Yeah, sure."

Now he was certain he'd not only heard the water move, but that was a wave. He groaned inwardly, licking his lips.

Torin picked up a rock and hurled it as far away from him as he could, then ducked behind a stalagmite. He couldn't repress the shudder of dread as the great monster yielded its ugly, monstrous head. It's one, glaring red eye swung toward Torin.

It sees me! he thought with alarm.

Leaping to his feet, turned and ran back down the rocky corridor. But he couldn't outrace the tentacle which ensnared him.

Screaming, he was dragged into the water.


{c}"Chapter 2: The Haggard Hills"