Kinderling 9

We found ourselves on the end of a long thin cavern that lead down into the dark.  The climb down wasn't too steep, so we were able to climb down relatively easily.  The cavern ended in a pool of water on the lower end, and Uncle Zon lead us through an opening in the wall.  More a wide crack than a tunnel, but eventually we found ourselves in a tunnel that had obviously been hewn from the rock.

"Is this another part of the mine Uncle Zon?"  I asked.

"No, when we Kinderlings were digging our mines, we ran into these a few times.  Believe it or not, there is a subterranian race of Gorf that live down here, and this is one of their tunnels.  They mostly live much deeper than this but there are a few places where our mines ran into the higher of their tunnels.  Mostly tunnels they've created to reach the surface, or as air vents.  They aren't like their brotheren on the surface though, they eat mostly mushrooms instead of hunting for meat, and believe it or not they are generally quite peaceful.  In fact, the Kinderling who started the mushroom farms in the mines learned a lot about mushroom farming from one of these Gorfs.  All they've ever asked for in return is to be left alone."

"Will they help us?" I asked.

"We'll have to see."  He replied, "We might be able to get directions to the surface.  As long as they don't see us as threatening, they shouldn't have any reason to attack us.  It's been a long time since I've been down here.  I wonder if any of the Gorfs I knew back then are still around."

"You were friends with Gorfs?"  I asked.

"Not friends exactly.  There were some younger Gorfs down here that tolerated me and a few of my friends coming down and exploring 'the upper halls' is what they called them.  But they did warn us not to try to go further down.  AH!  I think it's this way."  Uncle Zon pointed an then started walking.

"That way slopes down Zon." my father pointed out.

"Only a little.  I've been here before.  I'm pretty sure this is the way we want to go."

The tunnel sloped gently down for what seemed like hours before connecting with another natural cavern with a small rapid stream running down it.  There was a stone bridge over the water and I wondered who had built it.  I had never seen Gorfs build anything more complex than the stick and mud huts they lived in.  By contrast, the stones the bridge was built from were rough, but they seem to have been hewn into shapes specifically intended to create a stable arch.  The bridge itself sure seemed solid.

"Uncle Zon, do you know who built this bridge?"  I asked.

"Yes, it was built by the Deep Gorf.  Like I said, the Gorfs that live down here are different than the ones on the surface.  They are more intelligent, and more civilized.  That should be no surprise though, the Gorfs on the surface also don't farm.  They are hunter gatherers.  While the Gorf down here have mushroom farms, and they divert water from underground streams for their use."

Across the bridge, we found another tunnel.  This one sloping up, which made me happy.  Going down had been making me nervous.  We traveled on walking for what felt like hours.

*"Warning enemy ahead"*  I heard from Smoke about the same time I saw a flickering light ahead of us.  Someone was coming our way, and there was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.  The tunnel was relatively straight and clear.

"Shhh." Uncle Zon shushed us, indicating using hand waves that we should move to the side of the tunnel.  "Please don't do anything rash, let me handle this."

"Rash like what Zon.  You're the soldier." My father joked.  "The rashest thing I usually do is write a sternly worded letter, and I think I'll refrain from that in this case."  You could tell by the lame attempt at  a joke that father was afraid.

We stood with our backs against the wall, while the light came closer and closer.  Once it came close enough to get a look at the bearer, it was obviously a Gorf, only I had never seen a Gorf quite like this one.  It was smaller and darker skinned than the Gorf from the forrest.  Dark enough that it was hard to see much in the way of features, and I initially thought it was a younger Gorf, not quite an adult judging from it's size.  Which was odd since younger Gorf are usually kept in the Gorf camps to protect them from the other Gorf tribes.  As I got a better look at him, it became apparent that this Gorf wasn't younger at all, it was older, much older indeed, with silver grey wisps of hair, and leaning heavily on a walking stick.  I could hear that he was grumbling a song of sorts to himself as he walked.  The Gorf didn't look like he had noticed us at all as he walked along the tunnel.

"Excuse me my friend" Uncle Zon called to the Gorf as it began to walk past.  "Could you direct us to the surface?"

The reaction from the Gorf was surprising, he recoiled back, falling on his backside with a look of terror on his face, and began to scoot backwards up the tunnel in fear.  The Gorf abandoned his light, a glowing mushroom, where it fell.

"Please my friend, do not be afraid."  Uncle Zon said in a calm voice, picking up the dropped glowing mushroom and holding it out to the Gorf.

Personally, I thought Uncle Zon was crazy.  One doesn't get close enough to a Gorf to hand him something and expect not to be grabbed and dragged off somewhere... probably for dinner... with you as the main course!  The old Gorf stopped backing away, but looked suspicious.  As if he had been thinking much the same thing I was, but in reverse.

"I promise you we wouldn't even think about eating you."  I said.  Hey, if it hits my brain, sometimes it comes out of my mouth.  Then, of course, realizing what a dumb thing I had just said, I fell into a fit of giggles.

Uncle Zon and Father both gave me the "it's not the proper time for jokes" look which, of course, made the giggle fit worse.

"If you be hungerd, I have stew upon the hearth young one."  The Gorf grumbled.

I was astonished.  I'm sure I looked a fool standing there with my mouth hanging open.  I had never heard a Gorf actually speak.  Sure, I've been around Gorf.  They "sniff sniff grumble grumble" a lot, and I've always believed it must be some form of communication, but I never thought of it as language.  And here was this odd Gorf who just spoke to me, and he spoke Kinderling.

Oh well, in for a pint, in for a pound as they say.  I curtsied my best curtsie and said, "My name is Tandy, how are you today?"

He looked about him as if bemused and replied "I seem to be sitting on the floor, so not as well as I hoped.  Could you help an old fellow up?"

Could I though?  All I know of Gorfs is that they are violent, and always hungry.  I've heard the stories from the time I was a kit about Kinderlings being dragged off by the Gorf to end up in their cook-pot, and barely managed to escape that fate myself a time or two.  But this was different.  This Gorf talked, and almost sounded... Kindly.