Kinderling 49

 In case you are interested in starting this story at the beginning, Kinderling 1 can be found here:

The Tricycle of Thought: Kinderling 1

Please don't judge the story or the writing too harshly, this story is written with little to no editing.  It is just meant to get me writing regularly for practice.  

Now back to our story, already in progress..

We found a tree not far away and setup a tree camp.  The rain lasted throughout the day and into the night, but finally tapered off in the early morning hours.  By the time the sun came up, the torrent that had been flowing out of the cliff was still there, but was only half the strength as it was.  It was a nice clear day.  The air smelt fresh and wonderful as long as we stayed up-wind of the basin where the sewage landed.  

Which, sadly, wasn't the plan.

Looking at the cliff face, the place where the water came out was oddly circular.  I was expecting it to be a natural formation that the Mountain Gorfs took advantage of, but that wasn't so.  After a good breakfast and packing up our gear, Mama and I mounted our go-sticks and flew up to see it.  Mama, of course, still sat upon hers, while I stood on mine.  

Upon closer inspection, the drainage tunnel had indeed been carved into the stone of the mountain.  It was surprisingly smooth walled and straight, with a bit of an incline to keep the water flowing.  The top of the current flow was a little less than half-way up the tunnel.  Luckily the tunnel was large enough that Mama and I could fly our go-sticks up the tunnel easily and not get our feet wet.  long as we went single file.  We wouldn't have been able to fly side by side.

"This isn't as smelly as I expected."  I said.

"Be happy we're here right after a heavy rain washed out the worst of it."  Mama replied, "If we were here without a big rain for a while we might not even be able to go in there without making ourselves sick."

I was still a little shocked that Mama intended for us to go in there, but I guess it made sense.  Why would the Mountain Gorfs guard their sewer tunnel, especially when the outlet was so high up on a sheer cliff?  

My light devices really came in handy.  I was able to tie on to the handle on my monster-go-stick so it would light our way, leaving my had free.  Not that I wanted to touch anything in this place, but it's easier to ride the monster-go-stick when I have my hands free to steady myself.  I have to say, I was very glad that I could fly up this thing rather than walk.

"Judging by how straight and smooth this is, it almost has to have been built by Dwarves."  Mama commented.

"When we freed everyone from the mushroom farm, there were a couple Dwarves."  I replied, "I wonder if they did it."

"Not unless they were pretty old, I think this would have taken a pretty long time to carve all this out.  Although I might be wrong, I don't know all that much about digging through stone."

It seemed like we were flying for days and eventually the tunnel curved so when I looked back, I was no longer able to see the exit far behind us.  The tunnel was mostly featureless, giving the impression that while we were moving, we weren't getting anywhere.  Eventually, we reached a place where smaller inlets on each side of the tunnel drained into this main line.  A few times, I had to dodge left or right to keep from being hit with a stream of water coming from one of those pipes.  

We eventually hit what I could only assume were the sewers under Mountain Gorf''s stronghold.  I had read about the sewers under the big cities built by the race of Man.  Our parents required both Tommil an me to have a wide-reaching education.  I found it fascinating at the time.  I think Tommil hated it.  Tommil always insisted that he would never leave the village, so he didn't need to know about the wide world around us.  I wasn't much better, insisting that I would never leave the forest, but at least I found the reading interesting.  Our village was too small to need anything as elaborate as a huge underground sewer system, so other than trying, and failing, to get Tommil to play "sewer explorers" with me back then - I was pretty young - I hadn't thought about sewers for a long time.  

With a small amount of exploring, we found stairs to the next higher level and took them.

The sewer seemed surprisingly well made for something built by Gorfs.  Even considering that these particular Gorfs may have had some Dwarven slaves, I wouldn't have expected this level of craftsmanship.  The next level up had walkways on either side of the sewage channel, and decorative stone carvings where branches of the sewer met.  Mama even found where each intersection had markings labeling them.  Of course, it was in Dwarfish.

"I recognize some of these runes from seeing Dwarfish writing before, but I never learned the language." Mama said.  "I remember hearing that there had once been a Dwarfish settlement in these mountains before the time of the last Kinderling King, but that was a long time ago."

"When we freed Flower's tribe from the mushroom farm there were some Dwarves.  A couple of the Kinderlings we also rescued followed them."  I replied, "I didn't get an impression on how far away that Dwarven settlement was.  Wonder if there is any connection between the two."

"No way to know unless we go ask."  Mama said, "Not something we'll get an answer for today."

We continued our search of the sewage system and eventually found where drainage from the streets inside the fortress drained into the sewer.  We were indeed in the fortress proper.  As small as Kinderlings are, we could have easily climbed out, although that would have been a very bad idea.  Two Kinderlings walking these streets would stick out like a sore thumb.  We found a likely spot where we could watch from a sewer drain overlooking - underlooking? - what seemed to be a main street through the fortress and watched.

All in all, Gorfs - at least these Mountain Gorfs - didn't seem to be all that different than other folks.  Having spent most of my life - other than these last handful of weeks - thinking of them as nothing more than vaguely intelligent, yet dangerous, animals that was quite a revelation.  Even knowing Watcher, and Flower, then Flower's tribe didn't prepare me for how downright mundane these Gorfs were.  They had children, and did shopping, and wore hats woven from reeds.  Not sure where they got reeds up here in the mountains, and the shapes were funny to my eyes, but those hats weren't half bad from what I could see.  Mostly they wore leather and skins, some of which I didn't recognize and did NOT want to know what they were off of, but those too seemed well-made.  I even saw a few Gorfs wearing woven wool.  Sure, there were Kinderling villagers who keep sheep, and wool clothing is ubiquitous in the Kinderling village, but I never expected to see Gorfs wearing it.  I then noticed a Gorf female leading one of those woolly mountain goats past, which probably explained the wool clothing.

I could sit and watch this for hours.  Good thing too, because hours was exactly how long I had to watch.

Getting along evening, I heard the familiar tinkling sound of chains dragging on the ground as a group of slaves were martialed past.  I was sad to see that Iowne and her companions had been recaptured.  They looked beaten and about to give up.  I think I also saw a couple of Gorf prisoners who looked like they might have been some of the Gorf soldiers that we had freed.  Apparently recaptured and put in chains.  Guess it's better than the harness, but how much better?  I don't know.

Mama and I moved with the slave-chain gang, watching them from the sewer and then running to find the next drain they would probably pass.   We thought we lost them a couple of times, but managed to re-find them before they were herded down a stairway under a building.  

We made our way around to where we thought we would be close enough to the building.  It was the stench that finally lead us to where we wanted to go.  Yes, the odor in the sewers was stifling, but dungeons also stink horribly, but it's a different kind of stink.  One that smells more of contained rot and death.  At least the sewers get rinsed out from time to time when it rains.  The dungeons, not so much.  Once we found them, it became apparent that the dungeons were just another part of the sewer that had been walled off into cells.  Whoever built them was a much poorer mason than the Dwarves who built the sewer system so there were small holes and gaps that we could peek through.

The scene was horrifying.  People - Gorfs and Men - were pushed into feces crusted cages.  I was able to find a place that had a half-way decent look into Iowne and her people's cell, and at least that was as clean as they could manage.  

"There is the Elf!  She is here!"  Mama pulled me away so that we wouldn't be heard and whispered.  "I need to try to find a way to talk to her."

With some effort, we worked our way through the sewers and around the dungeon to where the back of the Elf's cell should be.  It took a few tries to find the right place, but we eventually found it.

"Are you enjoying your scurrying in the walls little one?"  The elf asked, "Do I look pathetic to you?"

I was astonished that the Elf used Kinderling to address us.  How did she know?

Mama answered in Elvish.  Mama had been right, Elvish did sound a lot like Kinderling.  I didn't follow what she said very well, I did learn a little bit of Elvish in school, but not enough to be fluent. 

"Your Elvish is atrocious."  The elf replied.  "Did you ask something about my mother's goat?"

"We've come to rescue you."  Mama whispered, angerly,  "and you know good and well what I said.  I know my elvish isn't that horrible.  I have been among your kind and even healed one.  I saved her life."  

The elf seemed to get more serious.  "Ah, You would be the Kinderling Mystic then.  This is unexpected.  I have heard stories about you.  Are you allied with that twisted little Kinderling sorcerer then?  Have you come to gloat?"

"Could she be talking about Daggi?"  I whispered to Mama, "I didn't know he came up here."

"Yes, Daggi. That' is what he was called."  The Elf said, "No point in whispering, little one, they may have chained me with cold iron, but they didn't think to shove it in my ears."

"No wonder she hasn't broken out on her own."  Mama said quietly, "The cold iron would be sapping at her strength.  It's a wonder she's still alive."

"Not for long, sadly."  The Elf said,  "I can feel myself returning to the earth."

"Returning to the earth?"  I asked Mama.  

"She means the iron is going to kill her soon."  Mama explained.  "How much longer do you have?  Could I go find your people and bring them back in time?"

"Why taunt me so?  Your sorcerer will get no benefit from it."

I was confused.  Did she mean Daggi?  

"We are not with Daggi.  He is as much our enemy as he is yours."  Mama said.  As  usual Mama was faster to figure things out than I was.  "Now how much longer do you have?  Would it be enough time to reach your people so they can send a rescue party?"  

The Elf laughed, it was a musical sound, if a little raspy.  "No, you are an outsider.  They will not come on your word alone.  My time is counted in days, if not hours." 

"So, we do this the hard way then."  Mama replied.