The journey back towards the Cog Gate was a grueling test of endurance and nerve. Every shadow seemed to hold a lurking Ashfang, every gust of wind carried the potential scent of pursuit, every distant rumble of shifting ice mimicked the sound of the dragon's approach. Lunrik pushed himself harder than he thought possible, driven by the urgency of their situation and Kaelith's relentless pace. His ankle screamed in protest, his ribs felt like they were wrapped in fire, but the thought of Grakkus's enraged warriors discovering the fate of their scouts spurred him onward.
Kaelith was magnificent, a force of nature navigating the hostile terrain. She found paths Lunrik would have sworn didn't exist, anticipated patches of weak ice, used the howling wind to mask their passage. Her senses were constantly working, analyzing tracks, tasting the air, listening for the slightest sound out of place. She offered Lunrik physical support when he stumbled, shared her dwindling water supply without comment, her presence a constant source of strength and focus. Yet, Lunrik saw the strain etched around her eyes, the fatigue pulling at her usually tireless frame. The glacier, the constant threat, the dwarven mission – it was taking a toll on her too.
They saw no direct sign of the Ashfang search parties Kaelith had spotted earlier, suggesting Grakkus was still focusing his search closer to the camp or perhaps hadn't yet realized the full extent of his losses. They also saw no further trace of the mysterious hunters or the other unknown tracks Kaelith had glimpsed. For now, at least, the vast, desolate glacier seemed empty save for themselves and the howling wind. It was an emptiness that felt both liberating and deeply unnerving.
As they finally drew near the towering cliffs hiding the Cog Gate, exhaustion warred with heightened anxiety. Would the dwarves honor the signal? Would the Gate open? Or would they find themselves trapped on the ledge, exposed, with Ashfang potentially closing in behind them? Lunrik scanned the cliff face, searching for the faint seams, the circular gear-and-anvil emblem.
Kaelith signaled a halt just before the final approach to the ledge, pulling them behind a large spur of rock offering concealment. "Wait," she whispered, her eyes scanning the cliff face and the glacier edge. "Something feels… wrong."
Lunrik strained his senses, trying to pierce the wind's howl. He felt it too – a faint, almost subsonic vibration in the air, different from the glacier's groans or the hum of dwarven tech he remembered from inside. And a scent… ozone, sharp and artificial, overlaying the clean scent of ice and stone. It reminded him faintly of the damaged hunter rifle when it discharged, but magnified.
"The hunters?" he breathed, his hand instinctively going to the knife at his belt. Had they doubled back? Were they waiting in ambush near the Gate?
Before Kaelith could respond, a section of the cliff face near the ledge, away from the Cog Gate itself, shimmered violently. The rock seemed to dissolve into static, revealing a dark opening that hadn't been there before. Not a mechanical gate like the dwarves', but something else – a tear in reality? A cloaked entrance?
Two figures emerged silently from the shimmering distortion, stepping onto the ledge. They were clad in the same sleek, dark uniforms as the hunters they'd encountered before. Their faces were hidden by reflective visors. They moved with unnerving speed and silence, their energy rifles held at the ready, scanning the area. They hadn't spotted Lunrik and Kaelith hidden behind the rock spur yet.
Lunrik's blood ran cold. They had come back. Or perhaps this was a different team? How had they created that opening? Advanced cloaking technology? Some kind of phase shifting? Their capabilities were terrifyingly advanced. And they were positioned directly between Lunrik and Kaelith and the sealed Cog Gate.
"Trap," Kaelith mouthed silently, her eyes narrowed, assessing the situation.
Alaric's ghost screamed: Engage! Element of surprise! Disable before they locate the Gate or signal others! Lunrik hesitated. Charging two hunters armed with energy rifles felt suicidal, especially in their exhausted, injured state. But waiting meant discovery was inevitable.
Suddenly, the decision was made for them. The communication device on Lunrik's wrist, the one keyed to Forgemaster Borin, emitted a loud, unexpected series of sharp beeps – not the simple pulses he had used, but a complex alert pattern. Had Borin detected the hunters' arrival via surface sensors? Was he warning them? Or had the hunters' technology somehow interfered with the dwarven device?
The two hunters on the ledge snapped their heads towards the source of the sound – Lunrik and Kaelith's hiding place. Their rifles instantly swiveled, locking onto their position.
There was no time for stealth. "Now, Kaelith!" Lunrik yelled, pushing himself away from the rock spur, drawing the energy rifle awkwardly. Even damaged, maybe it could create a diversion again.
Kaelith exploded from cover simultaneously, not charging directly, but weaving, using the uneven ledge to her advantage, her knife a glint of deadly steel in the grey light.
The first hunter fired. A beam of blue energy sizzled past Lunrik's head as he dove sideways, rolling behind a smaller outcrop of rock. The shot struck the cliff face where he'd been, sending stone chips flying.
The second hunter tracked Kaelith, firing a rapid burst. Kaelith moved like smoke, impossibly fast, dodging the first two shots, letting the third scorch the rock beside her as she closed the distance.
Lunrik aimed his rifle blindly towards the first hunter, squeezing the trigger mechanism with desperate force. Again, no beam, but another blinding flash of white light and a deafening sonic CRACK erupted from the muzzle. The hunter staggered back, momentarily disoriented, clutching at his visor.
Kaelith seized the opening. She lunged under the second hunter's guard, her knife flashing upwards in a deadly arc, finding a gap in the armour near the neck seal. The hunter choked, stumbling backwards, energy rifle discharging harmlessly into the air before clattering onto the ledge. He collapsed, dark fluid pooling beneath him.
The first hunter, recovering from the sonic blast, roared in fury and turned his weapon on Lunrik again. Lunrik scrambled backwards, trying to reload the rifle – was it even reloadable? – realizing its sporadic discharge was more liability than asset.
Before the hunter could fire, a deep, grinding sound reverberated from the cliff face behind him. The massive Cog Gate. It was opening.
Borin had received the alert, or detected the hunters independently. Heavy bolts of contained energy – dwarven energy, hotter, more golden than the hunters' blue beams – erupted from within the opening tunnel, slamming into the remaining hunter's back. His advanced armour flared, resisting the first bolt, but the second punched through with explosive force. He crumpled without a sound, joining his comrade on the icy ledge.
The Cog Gate opened fully, revealing Forgemaster Borin standing grimly on the threshold, flanked by four heavily armed Gate Wardens, their steam-projector weapons still smoking slightly. Borin's sharp eyes took in the scene – the two dead hunters, Kaelith standing panting over one, Lunrik struggling near the other, Eryndor presumably safe inside.
"Report," Borin commanded curtly, his gaze sweeping the ledge and the strange, shimmering distortion further down, which was now rapidly fading, sealing itself as if the hunters' presence had triggered its closure.
"Ashfang reinforcements sighted, forty plus, led by Grakkus, establishing camp near the ice caves," Lunrik gasped, forcing himself to his feet, adrenaline masking the pain again. "Unknown hunters returned, ambushed us near the Gate. Two neutralized." He gestured towards the bodies. "Their entrance… vanished."
Borin nodded grimly, his eyes lingering on the dead hunters and their unfamiliar equipment. "Your report confirms our sensor readings. The Ashfang approach. The unknown energy signatures reappeared." He looked at Lunrik and Kaelith, his expression softening fractionally, replaced by grudging respect, perhaps. "You encountered hostiles and survived. Your reconnaissance, though… eventful… was successful."
He stepped aside. "Inside. Both of you. Now. The Gate must be secured before Grakkus's main force arrives in sensor range." He barked orders in Dwarven, and two guards moved forward warily to inspect the dead hunters, while the other two covered the glacier approach.
Lunrik and Kaelith exchanged weary glances. They had made it back. They had survived Ashfang patrols, a grieving dragon, a dwarven automaton, and technologically advanced hunters. They had delivered the required intelligence. They stumbled back across the threshold into the warm, humming depths of Grimfang Deep, the colossal Cog Gate grinding shut behind them once more, sealing them within the heart of the mountain.
They were prisoners again, bound by the conditional arrangement. But they had proven their worth, perhaps, survived against staggering odds. And Lunrik now held tangible proof of the unknown enemy – two bodies, their strange armour, and their weapons (minus the one the leader lost). Master Artificer Gyra would be very interested indeed. Their time beneath the mountain was far from over, the currents of the Cog City poised to pull them deeper still.