'Run!' Twilight snapped, snatching Liet's arm. 'Come on!'
Together, they followed Davoren back to the side tunnel, fighting the exhaustion seeping into their limbs and the fire tearing at their lungs. Gargan waited there, the last grimlock's black sword in hand, ready to fend off any that pursued.
He needn't have bothered. Drawn to the troll by some unknown animosity, the grimlocks lunged at Tlork with flailing axes and the troll beat back at them. The troll outpowered the grimlocks-his muscles, fiendish body parts, and ferocity made him the perfect killing machine-but there were so many that Tlork would be long delayed.
'Poetic, really,' said a voice at Twilight's shoulder. She turned to find Davoren watching the battle with more than passing interest. 'Playing one foe against another. Amusing to watch so much death, isn't it?'
Twilight kept calm. She wiped Betrayal on her thigh and sheathed it. For now.
'Should we-ah-help?' asked Slip.
'Help who?' put in Liet. 'I'm thinking we'd best flee before-'
A massive hand on his shoulder stopped the boy, and Twilight looked up to see Gargan there. The goliath, still holding the unconscious Taslin, did not speak, but his gaze conveyed volumes. His eyes fixed upon Tlork- analyzing, weighing, judging. He had looked at Twilight and Liet in the same way, as though sizing them up for a duel.
'Aye,' said Twilight. 'The longer we watch, the more we learn about the troll.'
Tlork's massive warhammer appeared awkward in his ten-foot skeletal arm, but the troll wielded it with exceptional skill and balance. Each swing of the weapon knocked two or three monsters aside, and his fiendish stinger caught those the hammer missed. When a grimlock came inside his reach, Tlork would simply flatten the eyeless wretch with his elephantlike leg or eviscerate him with a snap of his claws.
Twilight had to wonder. Why had the grimlocks been drawn to the troll, if they could not defeat-nay, couldn't even injure-the creature?
As Twilight studied the foes, the assault made perfect sense. The grimlocks' world was one of sounds and smells. The troll had bellowed loudly enough to rival the purple worm, and his stench was so pungent Twilight could catch it even at her distance, a spear-cast away. Tlork was perceived as a much greater threat than the seven of them.
Six, Twilight corrected herself with an inward wince. She felt empty, as though something had been clawed out of her.
Then Tlork broke through the grimlock horde, shattering a monster's chest with a pulse of the mighty hammer. Those that did not lie dead had already fled in terror before the half-fiend, half-troll monstrosity. The path cleared, Tlork fixed his mad eyes on the six companions, and charged.
'Time to be going!' Liet hissed.
Twilight stayed him. 'Wait.'
Summoning her will, she wrenched the shadows to her and sent them forth. This was not the dance-it would not consume all her strength. The shadows coalesced and melted into scything blades-a wall of shadowy steel that flashed through the air-sweeping straight for Tlork and the few remaining grimlocks. She heard Liet gasp beside her, and knew it was because her gray eyes had flashed black.
Twilight was used to it. She preferred it to her other powers. The shadows were another aspect of Neveren's legacy, rather than part of her service to a god who hated her.
The fleeing grimlocks who yet lived ignored the shadowy wall of razors-the illusion was only visual, and they had no eyes-emerging unscathed and oblivious. The troll, however, immediately fell to the important business of knocking the blades out of the air and smashing them to splinters against the ground. Not surprisingly, the hammer passed through the swords like the shadows they were.
'Let us see how-' she started.
'Enough of this,' Davoren snapped. With a flicker of will, he shot a pair of fiery bolts up at the ceiling. The power burst and sent a web of cracks through the stone.
'Ah,' said Slip. 'What-?' Twilight shoved the halfling down the tunnel and pulled Liet behind her as she ran. Gargan shot the warlock a glare but followed.
Not a heartbeat later, the ceiling cracked and collapsed, sealing off the tunnel with a shattering crash of stone.
Tlork skidded short of crushing his body against the tons of stone piled up around the tunnel mouth.
Then a chunk of stone tumbled down from the top of the pile and smashed into the troll's face with enough force to snap his head back and shatter his spindly nose.
Tlork merely blinked, confused, as the carrot-shaped member straightened of its own accord and sucked in the blood dripping down his patchwork face. The troll's regeneration left very little that went uncured.
'Dumb them!' Tlork growled. 'Dumb dims!' He hoped some of the dims had survived, so he could squish them.
The troll turned to see the floating blades coming again.
Those things wouldn't give up, even after Tlork made sure they were good and dead. Or had he just run past them? He couldn't remember.
Tlork hammered at the first one, but his weapon went through the blade like so much air. It wavered a bit, but kept slashing at his chest. Funny, it didn't make any noise-not even a good whistle through the air-and Tlork didn't feel the sting.
Any creature possessed of reason higher than that of an overripe turnip would have seen through the shadowy illusion, but Tlork had never been all that high in the garden hierarchy. Sun-baked green squash, slightly moldy, was about his level.
Tlork kept fighting the shadow swords until they faded from view-only a few breaths. Then, unnerved at how they disappeared, the troll set to work dispensing with the rocky barrier.
As the dust settled, the adventurers found themselves breathless and in silence. Gargan lowered Taslin to the ground and stood ready with his blade, just in case the troll burst through the rubble. Slip moved stiffly to the sun elf's side and murmured healing prayers. Liet put a hand on Twilight's shoulder, though whether it was to comfort her or himself, she did not know.
She shook him off. Why would she want to feel, right now, rather than think?
Twilight scanned the dark corridor. It was not a worm's corridor but one carved by hand and pick. Nor was it of the shabby, rough craftsmanship of the grimlock city. She ran her fingers along the walls, feeling the subtle symmetries and imperfections.
Not dwarf work, either. Nor was it rounded and curved like the sewers. Rather, the tunnel was straight and smooth, traveling perhaps twenty paces before it branched right and left.
A new section of the depths? The concept made her uneasy.
'Liet,' she said.
His eyes glazed and he did not respond for a second, seemingly lost. Twilight clenched her hands and bit her lip, uncomfortable at being patient.
'Liet!' Twilight snapped.
The youth started and looked over at her.
'Did you come through these tunnels to rescue us, or another set?'
'Can-can you not give us but a moment?' His voice was plaintive and weak. 'I mean, Taslin, and Asson-he's- well, he's-'
'Dead,' Twilight finished. Liet recoiled as from a slap. 'As we shall be, unless we make sure no grimlocks can come after us. Sentiment comes only when we're safe.'
Twilight could feel them staring at her-hard. Good. It distracted her, and them.
She continued. 'Now, do those tunnels lead back to where you came from, or-?'
The youth scratched his head. 'These… are the same tunnels, I think… but they seem different.' He shrugged,
