The ghoul hunt

Rocks, coal, iron, gold...all those scents, Fargrim knew them well. For as long as they were in those tunnels, it's all he and his crew could smell. Yet something was there, they all knew it. The chief was afraid of something, he did not know what lurked in there, and a whole section had been restricted specifically due to the disappearance of miners and the soldiers already sent to investigate. They were getting closer to this section with every step, and finally something in the air seemed to change. A faint stench, unknown to Fargrim and the three other soldiers, but familiar to Tharok.

"Smell that?" the hunter started, "That's the sign a monster has killed somewhere near."
"How near?" Fargrim asked.
"Less than a kilometer away, I'd bet. Look, we're here."

A few rocks had been thrown together to block an entrance, and a cross had been engraved both sides of it. That is how the dwarves of clan Groundbreaker signaled their kin danger, only those sent by the chief were allowed to get through condemned passages. The five dwarves started moving the rocks, and were surprised by the sudden rush of air, and the disgusting, strong smell of rotten flesh accompanying it. After lighting up a torch, they engaged in the restricted section, and filled up the hole behind them.

From then on, they were moving blindly. Or so they would, if Fargrim had not recruited Tharok. Luckily, when he worked at the forge, Fargrim had helped Tharok develop his arsenal, and he was now one of the best hunters of the clan, so he was in his debt. Thanks to him, they had the advantage of method over the last groups. They may have been progressing slowly, but they were certain to go the right way. Unlike the soldiers, Tharok knew how to gather information about beasts, and had decided to follow the corpses' scent.

They eventually arrived in a small cave, where it was obvious a fight had occured from the disfigured remains lying about all over on the ground, and the traces of blood painting the walls. Tharok started examining the bodies, hoping to find something useful.

"That's a rough start. Without their gear, I would never be able to tell you how many they were. There is a bit of them everywhere and nowhere at once. See that?" he said while pointing at what looked like a small puddle of goo. "Given the helmet just a bit farther, it's probably a head...or was. But look here, this armor looks like it has melted, and that would explain why there's nothing inside the flesh either. Could have been a fire beast, but most of the remains seem too fresh for that, they should be calcinated. Some of them it seems, have been violently dismembered. Looking at the patterns in the blood, I can tell you the creature has big feet and long claws."
"Well, that's helpful. Where is it and how do we kill it?" laughed their chief, a soldier like any other Fargrim thought.
"I don't know yet. The only thing we should worry about for now is how dangerous this creature is, we should stay alert. And it went this way, so if you want to get killed, be my guest and follow it."
"Do you know where it came from? Maybe we could learn more about it." Fargrim suggested.
"Indeed. We'll have to follow this tunnel, hopefully we'll find something interesting."

As they advanced inside the next tunnels, the smell of decomposing flesh got stronger. It was the sign they were indeed exploring the past of the creature. All the bodies they uncovered were in about the same shape as the first ones they found, and unfortunately they were not able to understand much more about the beast they were chasing. The only additional information they got was that supposedly, the creature was quadrupedal, and on either its front or back legs, it walked directly on its claws, dragging them on the ground.

They decided to go back after it, and to try to set up a few traps on a more open cave. This way, they would have a better place to fight, and some tactical advantages, if they could lure it all the way back. A few spikes on the ground, lots of torches, and rocks ready to cage the beast, that was the plan. But first, they had to find it. Once they had come back, they followed the blood, and again, the stench. They found even more flesh mounts along the way, when suddenly, for the first time since they entered this area, they heard a sound. It was faint, at first, and they tried to get closer while not making any noise themselves.

The source of the sound they heard was near now. Tharok decided to get back to the last cave they found and setup his trap. Fargrim and the other three tried to get closer and see if they could find any weakness. As they advanced, the creature started sounding more and more like it was weeping. What kind of beast, only good to cry, could kill all those ferocious dwarves? The echo in the tunnels made it hard to locate the exact origin, but eventually, they got to it. While Fargrim maintained his composure, preparing himself for the worst, the other started showing a false excess of confidence.

On the inside, they were terrified. It was obvious. And on the outside, overconfident. This was the worst mix they could have come up with. They started making a lot of noise themselves, but, luckily, the creature did not seem to hear it. After a moment of not finding anything, they started loosing hope of finding it, and with Tharok so far, they wondered if he had gotten eaten already. Their panic was rising, as they envisionned the creature taking them out one by one, or simply coming from nowhere to dismember them.

Something had changed, Fargrim could sense it. But what was it? The smell stayed the same, nothing more was to be seen, yet the atmosphere felt so much more unsettling. The noise. That was it. Not only was it closer than ever before, but something else had been added up. A screeching sound, drawing nearer. The beast had found them. It was here, just right out of sight, lurking in the shadow. Slowly, it unveiled itself.

First, its head showed. A sort of ball more white than any miner, only punctuated by stains of dust, cut in the middle by a large mouth that was dripping some liquid digging through the rocks below, mounted by a few strands of hair. No eyes, no nose, no ears. Its neck was plunging a bit, before going up again towards its hideously curved back. Had it stood in all its length, one could have confused it with a troll, were it not as thin as a goblin. Its arms were so long they almost reached the ground, and its hands were really just a pack of long claws each, sliding on the ground. Its legs were as bent as its back, and its huge feet also ended in claws, about the fourth of their size. It was a real vision of horror.

Before they could react, the creature charged. It felt like it teleported, and now its claws were ripping through the dwarf leader. One of the soldiers tried cutting the beast's head with a swing of his axe, but it bounced off. In another swift movement, it retaliated, and the soldier's own head disappeared into darkness in a clatter. Fargrim and the other stopped thinking, instead they both ran back into the tunnels. Fargrim abandonned as much of his gear as possible, wanting to quickly get far away from the beast without stopping. After a few minutes, he stopped to reorient himself. He could not hear the beast anymore, but he was unable to see his last companion either.

For the first time in his life, Fargrim felt true terror. Until now, he had only known a kind of brutal but ordinary violence, even during battle, but this was not like any of it. This reached him to the bones. Now, he was alone and most probably lost, trapped with an unknown monstrosity that feasted on the remains of soldiers far greater than him, who it had slain by itself. And there were not that many options to him. He could die in a lot of different ways, but to survive he could only escape from the tunnels or kill the big mouthed beast.

As he kept walking, he seemed to recognize the path he and his companions had taken earlier. He was back on the right track, and getting back to Tharok. By now, surely he would have installed some traps they could use. A faint light appeared by the end of a tunnel. In the middle of the cave, a single torch was lit, surrounded by spike walls. Carefully avoiding the small ones on the ground, Fargrim called out for Tharok, but got no answer. He searched behind the different rocks, and called him through the tunnels, but in vain. Suddenly, by one of the entrances, he noticed a pile of dissolved metal and a thick trail of blood.

Footsteps approached from another entrance, followed by weeping. The creature was coming back, and Fargrim could not even tell where from. He grabbed his hammer, and squeezed it tight inside his two massive hands. A loud noise resounded. That was a rock just moved. Did the beast just crush itself? Before any answer could get to Fargrim, the footsteps grew closer, but this time at a slower pace. He thought perhaps, it was not the creature which was crushed, but another dwarf. No matter now, it would soon be his turn, and if he had to go, then it would be fighting.

He was surprized to see Tharok appear from the tunnel right by his side, panting and laughing.

"Looks like you survived for now!"
"I could return the compliment."
"I don't intend on dying here anyway you know? Not like the other, he arrived here and was almost instantly killed by that thing."
"It did that to everyone else. You were chased by the beast, right?"
"Yes, but I examined all those tunnels earlier, I know all shortcuts and thin passageways. It could never catch me."
"And the rock?"
"Something else I noticed, a fragile spot I could use to trap it." As he talked those words, the weeping started again, and the sound of the beasts claws rose up in the tunnel.
"It didn't keep it for very long."

It was too late to run. The beast was too close now. No more reason to be afraid either. It was win or die, just like any other fight. Most probably die, and so what? At least it would be quick. Nothing to fear. Yet, when the horrific being appeared, Fargrim shivered. It turned towards him and let out a scream so high it almost hurt the dwarves ears. Rage took over Fargrim. He shouted back at the crearure, trying to make himself more imposing. Then, it charged again. Fargrim took a step on the side to avoid it, but then realized it was not going for him.

Tharok had good reflexes. He dodged the beast and took refuge behind some of his traps. Fargrim saw an opening, he hit the creature with all his strength in the back, hoping to propell it towards the spikes. While it did not succeed as much as he had hoped, the beast lost its balance and had to take a few steps forward, placing Fargrim far enough to avoid the following blow. After that, the creature seemed to look at Fargrim for a second, before turning back to Tharok. It clearly was more interested in him than in Fargrim.

Fargrim and Tharok were different. The former never had anything to lose, no reputation to uphold, not even a real desire to survive, he was just looking to enjoy himself while he was alive. The latter had been forced into hunting, but he wanted more. He hoped to rise up to chief one day, like all others. And he could never do that if he died. Moreover, he would be dishonored if he died during a hunt, when he is supposed to be a great hunter. Fargrim rationalized his fear and vanquished it because he had nothing to fear, but Tharok was very much afraid.

It took Fargrim a while fighting the disinterested creature to make that connection, but it did appear and attack them when they were the most afraid. And now that he was not afraid of it anymore, it lost interest. It probably relied on fear to seek its preys. And now Tharok was the prey, while he was just an unimportant inconvenience. Obviously, he could use it to his advantage.

All of his attacks seemed to have hurt the beast, even though its skin stayed intact, but it would not be enough to take it down. The inside of its mouth looked soft, but the acid was fast acting. Perhaps if he was quick enough, he could hammer its head down a spike and that would be the end of it. And how could he get it to open its mouth without endangering himself? After a quick reflexion, he rushed to Tharok and gave him one of his spikes. "Aim for the mouth" were the only things he told him, before crushing his knee with his hammer.

Tharok fell, suffering, almost crying, raging against Fargrim who ran back away, until the creature was just above him. The acid dug through Tharok's foot, as the beast's mouth opened even wider. In the panick, Tharok tried to impale the head with its spike, and at that moment Fargrim hit the top of its head as hard as he could. The spike got through the skin from the inside, before dissolving and falling. Acid had sprayed down Tharok's face, burning half of it. But it was not enough. The creature was still moving, and threw itself to the helpless dwarf before it.

At first, it seemed like a failure. Everyone had died, except Fargrim, but he could not kill his enemy, and it would not even eat him. Yet, while he looked at it devouring his companion, he got a last idea. He stepped on the creature's neck, and put his whole weight on its back. The beast was not strong enough to get him off of it, as Fargrim hoped. He held his hammer far above his head, and let it down violently. Once, twice, three times and more. He let all his fighting rage explode on the creature which had terrified him earlier, and was now looking like a small, defenseless animal. Its skin was tough, but everything inside was breaking down.

He had spent minutes, maybe hours, beating up the monster. It had stopped moving on its own a long time ago, but Fargrim did not care. It was so satisfying to destroy the source of his previous fear, he continued for a long time. When finally he stopped, the mighty beast felt more like a bag of rocks and water than anything else. He returned triumphant, dragging the beasts remains behind him. Nowadays, all dwarves know the tale of how the one who would become their first king was also the first to kill the nightmarish creature that is a ghoul.