On a recent expedition into the lair of Trakanon, a team of adventurers uncovered a satchel of ancient parchments. On those parchments were a series of writings by an unknown bard by the name of Eylee Zephyrswell. Gnomeish scolars have dated the documents to some time within the heart of the Lost Age. This is the second of those writings...

From the pen of Eylee Zephyrswell --
This tells the account of the escape of Kaltuk Ironstein and Nurgg Rockfist from Guk and the hands of the trolls. My friends told me the tale over many an open fire, quibbling over the specific details. I most often stuck to Nurgg's account, as he is not quite as prone to exaggeration as Kaltuk.

Escape from Guk
Part II

The halls of Guk were the deepest dark. With the prisoners' confines afforded no windows, the only light came from the torches in their stone sconces, and as the night wore on, those torches dimmed to the point of near extinguish. Nurgg sat at the edge of the cell in one of the small slants of light given off by a nearby torch and retrieved a piece of wagon wheel banding he had stored in a gap between the cell wall and the floor. Squinting in the light, he ran his finger down its edge. Dull, dull, dull, but perhaps he could do something with it.
The sound of Kaltuk's snoring filled the cell -- an unlikely blessing. If Nurgg was really going to do as he had set down to do, then the noise might help mask the sound of his work. He held the thin, brittle piece of metal in one hand and a whetstone he had lifted from one of the guards in the other. Staring at them, he released a heavy sigh and leaned his forehead against the bars.
But he didn't let himself stay there long. After a few moments, he sat up and began grinding the stone against the metal in a futile attempt to sharpen it. He began at first softly and then more fiercely until sparks burned the skin of his hands. Grinding away, he felt his teeth clench and the muscles of his neck tighten and everything in him became focused on the act. He began to think to himself that maybe the dwarf wasn't so crazy, that perhaps this really could work, and that maybe some day soon he would be free of this place.
But then, the banding snapped in his hands, one half clattering to the ground and the other hand gripped between his fingers. Breathing heavily, he sat for a few minutes, frozen and staring at the remains of his work.
With a grunt of frustration, he tossed the whetstone across the cell so that it clattered off the wall and fell down onto Kaltuk's chest. The snoring stalled for only a moment before resuming, and the whetstone traveled up and down with the rise and fall of the dwarf's slumber.
Nurgg's head fell heavily against the cell door again as he felt the burning in his hands subside and the emotion the act had stirred in him quell until his usual feeling of numbness had returned.
Sitting in the deep dark, he muttered to himself, "A dead man's task. This is nothing but a dead man's task."
It was a good thing, he was later to say, that at that time, he was no better than a dead man.

Nurgg sat in the back of the cell scratching at the dirt between the stones of his cell floor with a fingernail as Kaltuk rapped his hands against the cell door. "Hey there! You lot paying attention?" he shouted. "Come here if you have the mettle to face my fearsome mien."
There was quiet down the hall in the station where the troll guards forever sat, gambling with bones and drinking their foul liquor. After a moment, one of the guards came shambling down and with a frown said, "What's this? What are you on about, dwarf?"
Kaltuk pressed his chest against the bars and raised his aleskin. "I'm dry; can you good sirs fill me up?"
The troll took one look at the aleskin and let out a peal of shrill laughter. Turning, he called down the hall, "Little dwarfsie wants some of our grog, boys!"
The chorus of laughs that followed did nothing to deter Kaltuk. In fact, it only seemed to encourage him. He stood up a little straighter and said, "You're right in assuming your spirits are quite foul, and if I had any choice in the matter, I'd nay drink them for all the gemstones of Kaladim, but I'm dry, and that's enough to drive any dwarf to desperation. You'll not find my constitution lacking when it comes to a stiff drink, I promise you that."
The troll scratched at a boil that protruded from his temple as he seemed to consider it. "All right," he said with a snicker. "You can drink with us, dwarf, but only if you drink all that we give you."
"A fair deal, indeed," said Kaltuk with a bit of a bow. "I only ask that for every two I drink, you all drink one as well. I hate to drink alone."
"Two for one?" asked the troll. "Haha! I believe we can promise that." Nurgg watched with mild amazement as the door swung open, and Kaltuk, pausing only long enough to lean back and wiggle his eyebrows at Nurgg, followed after the troll.
Minutes passed, and then tens of minutes, and then what must surely have been hours. In the distance, the trolls all chanted as Kaltuk downed flagon after flagon, followed by a hearty roar from Kaltuk as they took their compensatory drink. Nurgg felt every moment tick by as he wrapped his arms around his legs and watched the cell door, half-expecting the trolls to deliver an unconscious dwarf at any moment and barely daring to hope it would be otherwise.
But as the night drew on and morning threatened to arrive at any moment, the chanting grew quiet and slurred and only the dwarf's voice continued to resound. Finally, when Nurgg had all but gone insane with waiting, Kaltuk's blue clad figure stumbled up to the cell door, fumbling with a ring of keys.
Nurgg shot to his feet and crossed the space of the cell in two steps. Kaltuk swayed dangerously as he stared up at Nurgg and said, "You didn't think I could do it, did you? Well, I have done it! Tell my wife and all those miserable elders that I am still a penitent! That I still deserve a place in Kaladim! Let it be known that Kaltuk Ironstein never failed to drink for the glory of the gods! For Brell Serillis, that miserably ungrateful whelp! I did it all for you, do you hear me!"
The ogre waited uncomfortably through the dwarf's diatribe, glancing constantly down the hallway. The guards were well unconscious, of that he was sure, but there were others to hear what was going on. Already, other prisoners had begun coming forward and staring at them from the doors of their cells.
"Do you hear me?!" shouted Kaltuk, thrusting his head back.
"I am sure Brell hears you," said Nurgg through gritted teeth. "All of Guk can hear you. Be quiet, you drunken fool."
Kaltuk peered through one eye at Nurgg. He raised one indignant finger and then toppled forward. It was all Nurgg could do to catch him through the bars and wrest the key ring from his hands. Minutes later, he finally had the door open. Kaltuk hadn't so much as stirred since losing all consciousness, and in the distance, Nurgg swore he could hear footsteps. "You poor little fool," grumbled Nurgg. He knelt down and drew out the crude machetes he had made in a more successful attempt to fashion them some weapons.
Hoisting Kaltuk, he threw him over his shoulder and began to retreat.
"Don't leave us! Please!" Nurgg whipped back and saw the froglok from the construction site. The voice was soft and feminine, and he could see tears in her eyes. Nurgg looked at the keys in his hands and then back at the froglok. He stepped back only far enough to throw them to her cell.
"I am sorry," he said. "Free yourself, if you can."
With that, he set off, Kaltuk's limp body slapping against his chest and back.

~~~

It was difficult for Nurgg to recreate what followed, and Kaltuk was, for obvious reasons, little help. When trying to describe it, he admitted to have felt as if he were in some sort of trance. Years of servitude were shed further with every step, and he had to command instincts to resurface that had long since gone dormant with neglect. And if the events that followed had not been of such an unusual caliber, maybe then it might have been easier, but they were most unusual, and Nurgg did all that he could to carry Kaltuk and he through them with their lives in tact.

 

End of part two...