"He will not make it through the night." said Glimar, watching the labored breathing of the young dwarf.
"Aye... but it is better to die then to be so disfigured." replied Krogthur.
Therdon lay on the floor of his tent fighting for his life. His last act of throwing his pick into the face of the giant spider had given Degmur the chance to pull the fallen dwarf's body from the mine. The beast could not follow through the small opening.
The venom that sprayed over Therdon had badly burned him. His beard, along with most of his hair, was now gone and his exposed skin was red and blistered. Degmur had also been burned, but was expected to recover.
"Poor lad... at least he will not be supper for that monster!" growled Glimar.
"Go get some sleep." said Krogthur "I can watch over him. You have work to do in the morning."
"Humph!"
Glimar left the tent in a rush. He doubted he would sleep much this night, watching the young dwarf die only fueled his anger. Two of the other parties also reported odd smells within the mines. Further exploration would be postponed until they were safe and free of the venomous threat.
Back in the tent, the scout continued to watch over the dying dwarf. His breathing was fast and shallow. Even in the cool night air, sweat covered Therdon's body, soaking his clothes. His body trembled as the poison tightened its hold.
Some time after midnight Therdon's breathing changed. It began to slow and become less labored. The scout knew this was the end. Therdon had lost the fight. Slowly the breaths grew further apart until he exhaled one last time.
As Krogthur rose to cover the body, there was a loud explosion and a blinding flash of green light knocked him back onto the ground. Through the spots before his eyes, he thought he saw a ghostly green figure hovering over the corpse. Krogthur jumped to his feet, and pulled his small axe from his hip. He rubbed his eyes and looked about. The tent was empty save for the body.
Krogthur rushed outside in a daze. Others were emerging from their tents. He was glad they had heard the noise as well. Turning back towards the tent, the scout's blood ran cold. Standing in the opened flap was the disfigured form of Therdon. The scout backed away from the tent, his eyes locked on the dead dwarf.
Therdon tried to speak, but could only cough out a rough sputter.
"What's going on, Krogth..." Glimar asked urgently, rushing up beside the scout. He stopped mid sentence.
"He was dead," muttered Krogthur "I watched him die... now he walks."
The two watched as the dwarf, who was once Therdon, stood at the entrance to the tent trying to speak. Many of the others from the camp began to gather behind them.
"Wahht... essss... haaahp..." Therdon stuttered.
"He is one of the walking dead!" rose a shout from the group "Kill him!"
A rock flew from the group and hit the corpse on the side of the head. Therdon grabbed at his forehead in pain. What was going on? Why was everyone acting so strange? Why couldn't he talk? The last thing he remembered was the spider looming over him back in the mine. Then he woke, finding himself in his tent.
Another rock sailed from the group of dwarves and hit him in the jaw, knocking him back. Then another. This was not right, thought Therdon. Though he knew if he stayed standing there he would not have the chance to figure it out. Quickly, he ducked back into the tent. He could hear more rocks hitting the sides' rough fabric, with shouts from the crowd.
Ducking under the rear part of the tent, he was once again outside. He glanced quickly at the sky to gain his bearings. Turning south, he began to run through the brush and trees. He could hear the shouts behind him begin to fade into the distance, but he continued to run.
Lungs burning, Therdon slowed and then fell to the grass, rolling over onto his back. Catching his breath, he stared at the stars above. His mind began to go over the recent events. He remembered running with Degmur from the giant spider in the mine. He recalled the fangs piercing his back, throwing the mining pick, then blackness. His next memory was awakening in his tent... and that voice. Strange and guttural.
Therdon sat up. Why couldn't he speak?
"Hhellllo... hellllo... hello" he said to the night air. He raised his hand to his throat then froze. His beard! It was gone! Touching his face, he could feel the scarred and melted skin, but no beard. A dwarf without a beard was not a dwarf! The venom... he must have gotten some in his throat. That could be why he was having trouble speaking.
He ran his hand over his chin. There was no pain. There was no pain in his back where the fangs had pierced him. His throat did not hurt either, but it felt different, perhaps scarred as well. How long did I lay there, he thought. Why was he not dead?
Therdon got to his feet and took inventory of his possessions. He was still wearing the clothes he had been in the mine, although they were now tattered and burned from the spider's venom. His tool belt had been removed, but he was glad to still have his boots. Checking his pockets he pulled out the coin he and Colthrun had found buried in the dirt. Other than the clothes on his back, this was his only possession.
Rolling the coin over in his hand something seemed different. Holding it up high to catch the light of the moon, he looked closely at the markings that circled the coin. Therdon had not examined it very closely, but he was sure there had been more markings before. Had they changed?
He put the coin back into his pocket. It was only a few hours until dawn. In the light of day he would make his way back to the dwarf camp and try to find out what had happened. He hoped the sun would drive away whatever madness had possessed the company the night before. There were many questions to be answered.
Submitted by
Nocte
Date
5/1/05
Source
Vanguard: Saga of Heroes Web Lore
Notes
Thestra Lore
