Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #21 December 2015 | Page 23

Search for any clues, hidden runes, or strange marks.”
The others did as he bid, while Manfred reached out
with his mind in an attempt to read the magic. “There
is old magic here. It is similar to the feeling I had at
the exit door from First Delve at the Warning Falls.
That is a very good sign. I wonder if it is as simple as
knowing how to open that door?” Well, here goes, give
it a try. It’s about time I had a bit of luck.
Manfred crossed his fingers. “Bahl Shamim.”
He spoke the words in a clear, loud voice. Just as he
said them, the sun dropped behind the mountains and
darkness fell. It seemed to be an eerie coincidence.
Rather good timing, if I say so myself. The last rays
of the sun illuminated a shimmering change coming
over the blank rock face. Where there had previously
been a solid rock wall, there appeared a roughly
hewn archway and tunnel leading into the mountain.
As darkness fell, Manfred wondered whether it was
real or whether he had simply imagined it by wishful
thinking. He took out his staff and muttered a few
magic words. The staff began to glow with a yellow
light that allowed them all to see clearly. There were
dwarf runes carved above the archway. ‘Second
Delve. New hope for the dwarf peoples. Enter friends
without fear.’ Manfred translated the runes. “It seems
that David son of Dwahir son of Davit was successful
in establishing a new delve, after all. I wonder what
became of them all. Shall we take them up on their
hospitality and go in?”
The question was largely rhetorical, as
the alternative was a night on the snow. The four
travellers entered the archway and began a gradual
descent along a rock tunnel into the heart of Mount
Doom. Manfred’s staff illuminated the walls of the
tunnel, which were decorated with dwarf runes.
Manfred moved slowly, studying the runes as much
as checking where his feet were falling. He stopped at
a place where there were more runes than anywhere
else.
“The runes are a kind of diary of the delve’s
history. They tell the story of the expedition, the
establishment of the delve, their hopes and plans for
the future, and they recall the disaster which befell
them. I wish that I had the time to study them more;

Dia son of Din son of Dane will want to know all of
the details if by good chance our paths cross again.
Come, we must find a place to rest tonight. I will tell
you their story after we have eaten and before we
sleep.”
They moved on again and the runes quickly
petered out. Before long, the tunnel opened into a
large chamber, hewn out of the heart of the mountain.
It would not compare with the Jewelled Caverns of
Devil’s Mouth but in the yellow light of Manfred’s
staff, it was an impressive sight nonetheless. The
Hall of the Mountain King; they achieved much
before they met their fate. The walls of the chamber
were decorated with precious stones that reflected
and seemed to amplify the light from the staff. The
chamber seemed to be a central meeting place. On a
high dais in the centre was a large, decorated stone
seat, the throne of the Mountain King. Tunnels ran
off the main chamber in all directions, like spokes of
a wheel from the hub. It would take weeks to explore
this place thoroughly.
Manfred scanned the runes above each tunnel
and selected one to explore. As they crossed the floor
of the chamber, their feet crunched on something
brittle underfoot. Manfred glanced down and realised,
in horror, that they were walking on the bones of the
dead. They picked their way more carefully, trying not
to disturb the remains. There had clearly been a battle
here, but from the look of it, the only casualties were
dwarves. Manfred looked back at the others. Aglaral
and Ubadah seemed to be all right, but Kris was in
obvious distress. His breathing was rapid and shallow
and there were tears streaming down his face. He has
the emotional feeling to become a good bard. The
warriors have seen it all before.
The air in the chamber was fresh and cold,
evidence of a good ventilation system. Their boots
were throwing up dust, though, that began to make
breathing more difficult. Manfred didn’t want to think
about where the dust originated. They entered the
tunnel he had selected and it became less dusty. Small
rooms had been carved out of the rock on both sides of
the tunnel. They contained sleeping and cooking areas
and more skeletons, including those of children. It

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