Ruein: Fires of Haraden: Action/Adventure Necromancy Series (Books of Ruein Book 2) by G.O. Turner (best ereader for graphic novels txt) 📗

Following Ceer, Ruein found a corner aside the door to rest her glaive. The half-orc managed the room with a stance between rafters, careful not to invite ironwood scalp splinters.

Yanking up the ramp, Leafar shut the door. “See! Cozy and warm. Settle yourselves. Ceer buddy, no chewing on the furnishings. I’m getting us underway,” he said, jostling his way through Ceer’s legs.

Leafar trundled down and up the various floor levels to a forward alcove. Sliding back a shutter, he peaked out through a glass partition before examining two compartments bracketing him. He gave both a thump before cracking open their hatches for glimpses inside. Satisfied, Leafar snapped them shut and pulled on a draped rope.

The familiar clang of the caravan bell resonated outside.

The floor lurched under Liv’s socked feet. Instinctively she flailed at the rafters as she went down.

Shit. Liv collapsed over a cushioned stool. Baylor’s balls, that wasn’t dignified. Rolling over with a grumble, she planted herself in a seat and shrugged off her coat.

Twigs popped over behind Leafar. Tipping on his toes, he craned for the small forward window. Leafar shook his head, sidling back to accommodate. “Help yourself. You’re welcome to the view all day. Fraid it’s going to be all one fluffy shade though.”

“Alrighty then.” Their gnome host sauntered over to a stout set of galley cabinets. “Who’s hungry for some eggs?”

Twigs swung around. “Oh! How’s about I make breakfast?”

“No!” burst from the others.

“Suit yourself. Still have plenty of salad if ya change your minds.” Twigs redirected to the window, rubbing the pane with his sleeve. “This whiteout…is it unnatural? Snows come and snows go. Nothing in nature is everlasting.”

Bringing out a skillet, Leafar pointed it at Twigs. “What’re you, some wistful virgin? Well, let me tell you, this is. Least, it’s been going on for decades now. Haraden’s codger archmage was a regular of mine back in the day. He’d call it natural enough for an elemental incursion.”

“Elemental what?” Liv turned.

Leafar regarded her with a huff. He stood there, balancing eggs within arms filled with cooking gear. With a long steady nod, he made his way down to the hearth. “Drop your butts in some seats, folks. You don’t know Haraden. But you damn-well better have some notion of what you’re rolling into.”

Taking his cue, Ceer settled cross-legged alongside Liv. Ruein worked her way to a platform overlooking the hearth. She removed her cloak, knelt, and withdrew her component pouch.

Oh, no. Please don’t.

“Pull back about thirty years, all this was your usual wilderness.” Leafar warmed his skillet over the hearth’s grill. “Deer, fuzzy bunnies, occasional wolves. Not much worth seeing, you ask me. However, down under? There was a different story. Frigid as a witch’s tit up here, but the underdark…not icy down there. Haraden’s archmage would go on and on about his story.”

Busting all the eggs into a bowl, he began to sift out the shells. “So, as he’d tell, the drow came across abandoned dead veins in the Earth. They poked at our dark gnomish brothers to dig around. Quickly came up with riches. Seems the whole region was seeded with gemstones. Great for the drow. Not so good for our svirfneblin siblings or the other slaves incentivized to mine them. That is until the incursion.”

Ruein cast a look. “It’s the underdark. Everyone incurs upon everyone down there.”

Leafar tossed the last of the shells. He waved his fork at her. “Nice armor. Not sure how that’s going to go over. But, I’d guess you’d know.”

He shrugged and went at beating the yolks. “’Course, dark elves knew well enough what to expect. Riches invite itchy palms. It just don’t normally come from beyond. After the gems got sniffed out, a race of azers forged open a rift between their plane of fire and our underdark. The drow learned too late, their dig was in dormant lava tubes.”

Overturning his bowl, it met with a sizzle of the skillet. “Dump a fire plane into ours and boom… It stokes the old veins back to life.”

“I see.” Twigs turned from the window. “And that changed things on top?”

“Look at you, fancy yourself a sky sage? Yeah. That heat built-up underground went all versus against the frozen topside. Created an ever-spiraling blizzard over the whole expanse. You buy into old Monastas, that was our world pushing back.”

Ruein lay back and placed two coppers over her eyes. She fell into draconic speak. Seriously? Was she casting—

“Eh?” Leafar’s brow furrowed at Ruein. “What sorta hinky—”

Liv leaned in. “Monastas?”

Leafar blinked back at the Lightbringer. “Hmm? Ah, yes. Haraden’s archmage. Quite a coot. Good guy for a human. Stuck it out through drow enslavement till the azers came.”

Ceer scratched at his head. “What’s ah…aay-zer?”

A snort slipped from Leafar. “To look at ’em, folks think ‘fire dwarves’. They’d be wrong. Same stature, sure enough. But Monastas knew. They’re elementals. Real dwarves have blood pumping through their veins. Azers are all fire to their core. Flaming hair. Flaming beards. Even flaming pits, for that matter.

“Hells, an azer’s skin is more like this frying pan than like you or I. They’re actually made of bronze or brass. And hot! Whew. You seal a deal with a handshake, it’s gonna leave a mark.”

Liv pulled tins from her pack, passing one to Ceer. “So they’re short fire elementals.”

“Taller than me, but not lanky like you.”

“And they beat back the underdark?” The reclined Ruein asked.

Leafar worked the skillet with an egg flip. “Really, it was their realm more than anything. When they broke through to ours, the lava rift cut off the way back to the drow’s home cities. They resisted, of course. But wouldn’t ya know it, they brought too many slaves that day. All of ’em got trapped behind the lava. Knowing the kindness of their mistresses and the overwhelming situation, the slaves quickly switched allegiances. They took up with the azers.”

“Not a good day to be a drow.” Liv craned her neck, leering toward Ruein.

“To be sure.” In a deft move, Leafar portioned