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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 2730058" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 493Gusts of wind drove fat droplets of rain into the dwarves’ faces as they made their way deeper into the neighborhood surrounding the river chasm.  Hodge sneezed, and grumbled something that was lost on the breeze.  Here, within bowshot of the new-formed gorge, casual comments could not be discerned.  The sound of the river making its way down the side of the mountain, combined with the noise of the wind rushing through the chasm, was loud enough to override most other sounds.  Most of the buildings here had been condemned and remained vacant; eventually they would be torn down.  It was unlikely that there would be much rebuilding here.  Although magical divination had revealed that the majority of the city had regained geologic stability in the aftermath of the disaster, the constant noise and the general human fear of unwarded heights provided little incentive for such projects. The bridge that would eventually cross the new river gorge was still just pilings at this point, and the tenuous rope bridge that crossed the chasm was far from safe even on clear days, let alone on stormy nights when gusty winds blew through the gap that had forever changed the landscape of the volcano town.  On this night, the neighborhood was all but deserted.  Which was not to say that the neighborhood was uninhabited.  In addition to what they’d seen tonight, Mole had reported that several of the abandoned buildings had been claimed by squatters, refugees who had lost their homes, or simply poor folk who had owned nothing to start with.  A lot of people had left Cauldron before the disaster, and others had died in the calamity, leaving a lot of empty buildings that could be reclaimed.  But restoration work took time, and Arun suspected that there would always be people who slipped through the cracks, who for whatever reason preferred to hide in the shadows beyond the ebb and rush of the town’s active life. Beorna remained close at his side, and she touched his shoulder as they left the ruined warehouse behind them.  “If they are dark elves, we’ll never see them,” she said, speaking loud enough to carry over the wind, but not loud enough for her words to carry to the other two dwarves.Arun nodded.  “We still have to look,” he told her. They spread out then, following Arun’s injunction to remain within sight of at least one other at all times.  There wasn’t much to see; several buildings had collapsed entirely, leaving only piles of rubble slick with wet from the rain.  One entire block had been consumed by fire, leaving only heaped ash and a few blackened timbers that jutted from the mess, clawing at the sky like barren fingers.  The streets had been cleared enough to allow passage, but they still occasionally had to move around a heap of rubble that protruded out into the avenue. A strong gust slammed into Arun, and for a moment the street ahead was lost in a spray of water into his eyes.  He drew off his helmet, wiping his face to clear his vision.  When he could see, he noticed that Umbar had stopped in the entry of an alley, one of the steeply sloping corridors that connected the terraced layers of the city.  One thing that these connecting streets allowed for was the drainage of rain down to the center of the city, to the rushing river that now drained out into the gorge and down the mountainside to the southeast.  Most of the alleyways had either subterranean pipes below the pavers or runnels to either side that allowed the water to drain to the next tier without washing away pedestrians passing by, but the quakes that had reshaped the city had damaged many of them, making even cautious travel a risky proposition. The current level of precipitation wasn’t enough to fuel heavy levels of flooding, not yet, but small plumes of water nevertheless flared around the dwarf cleric’s ankles as he stood there in the mouth of the alleyway.  Arun motioned to Hodge and Beorna and moved to join him.  “What is it?” he asked the priest.  The two buildings to either side of the alley were mostly intact, at least from the exterior, but deep cracks in the foundations and the shattered windows indicated that this block had not escaped damage in the disaster.  This neighborhood had been mostly an industrial district prior to the disaster, with workshops and warehouses occasionally interspersed with retail establishments that now gaped empty, their contents evacuated by their owners or looted by the opportunistic in the aftermath of the disaster.  Arun remembered one shopowner who’d insisted on reopening his business even though the building had been condemned; after the collapse that killed him, his wife, two children, and two customers the city officials had become more stringent in cracking down on such foolish choices. Umbar shot his fellow gold dwarf a cold look.  “You have forgotten much of your stonelore, it would seem.”Arun peered into the alley.  High stone walls that also served as part of the foundation of the flanking buildings formed a long passage that led up to the next avenue about fifty feet away and above them.  The only thing of note here was a storm drain, set vertically into a recessed depression to one side, blocked by a grille of heavy iron bars that were set into the surrouding stone.  “No debris,” Hodge said, pointing to the drain.  The dwarf stepped through the swirling water to the drain, and bent to examine it.  Spray washed around his hips and the current tugged at his cloak, but he ignored both as he completed his search.  Then, after glancing back at the others, he reached out and gave the bars a yank.  The entire stone frame around the drain slid outward several feet, sufficient space to allow a man-sized creature to pass into the pipe beyond.  Beyond the initial narrow opening the shaft appeared to widen into a circular tube about four feet across, sloping downward at a considerable but not impossible angle.“Most of these drains ended up at the lake, didn’t they?” Arun asked. Beorna nodded.  “With the quakes, who knows where they all go, now.  Though it would be unpleasant, if one were suddenly catapulted into the river gorge.”Arun concentrated, but he detected no hint of Taint.  “It’s a lead, but we have no way of knowing if the attackers came via this route.”“The All-Father can provide the answer,” Umbar said.  “I will embark upon an invocation, but it will take some time.”  Without waiting for a reply he began casting, a sonorous chant in the Rift dialect of dwarvish, a tongue heavy with long syllables and complicated pronunciations.  Inured to the water washing around his boots, the priest delved into the power of his office, communing with his god. The other dwarves kept watch, but as minutes passed with the chant continuing unabated, Hodge began to fidget.  “Could we not have waited someplace dryer while ‘e did this?”  “This is a complicated spell,” Beorna said.  “Be patient.”Finally the chant came to an end, and the cleric stepped forward.  He placed his bare hands upon the stone around the grate entrance, and leaned forward until his bearded cheek was pressed up against the wet stone. “Yer expectin’ that stone to tell yer what happened?” Hodge snorted. “Exactly,” Arun said, like Beorna recognizing what the priest was doing. They watched as the dwarf cleric stood there against the stone, his eyes closed, his lips moving soundlessly.  Finally, he drew back, shaking water out of his beard before putting his helmet back upon his head. “What did you learn?” Arun asked. “The stones had much to say,” Umbar replied.  “We now know the identity of our enemy.”</blockquote>

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