Chapter 5.

****************************************************************

With every step taken was shrouded in an eerie silence, punctuated only by the foreboding echoes of their own footsteps. The group pressed forward, their senses heightened with a growing dread that seemed to hang heavy in the air.

Each twist and turn of the labyrinth only served to further entrap them in a web of uncertainty, cutting them off from any form of salvation. The walls of stone and earth closed in around them, their only companions in this desolate and treacherous journey. With each passing moment, the feeling of impending doom grew stronger, casting a dark shadow over their every move.

"I sense something...something evil lurking within these walls," Gawain muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Indeed. The air is thick with the foul presence of evil, they are still watching our steps closely," Reinhold concurred, his eyes narrowing as they cautiously continued to press ahead.

"Don't let your guard down and stay by my side!." Reinhold's eyes flashed with an icy glare, betraying the true depth of his emotions. He gripped the massive war axe in his powerful grasp as if sensing that a formidable foe awaited them in this dark realm.

The group pressed forward in silence, each lost in their thoughts as they tried to process what was happening around them. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily on their minds, making it difficult to breathe. It was almost like a physical force, pushing down on them from all sides, constricting their movements and suffocating them with its crushing might.

Their breath caught in their throats as they stumbled upon a clearing, where a massive door stood before them. It was unlike anything they had ever seen before, towering over them with its intricate engravings and shimmering with the brilliance of pure gold and steel.

"This appears to be the very heart of the city - the throne room, Your Marjesty," a knight spoke up.

"The door seems to be sealed tight, Your Highness. There may be survivors trapped within, but I fear that hope is but a flickering flame in the darkness," Gawain solemnly declared.

Suddenly, the sound of clinking armor rang out through the corridor, followed by the rhythmic tapping of booted feet hitting stone floors.

"Help me!" a voice cried out.

In the shadows, a solitary dwarf emerged, his garments in tatters and stained with the blood of battle. His countenance was marred with streaks of dirt, a testament to the hardships he had endured on his journey. And there he stood, at the far dark end of the hall which opposite to the throne room.

"Please i need some help over here!" He cried again desperately.

"My friends are dying, please help us!" His voice was laced with desperation. The look in his bloodshot eyes was wild. It was apparent that he was on the brink of insanity.

"What do you think we should do, Your Highness?" Gawain whispered.

In a moment of crisis, as the knights prepared to step forward and aid him, Reinhold's eyes blazed with determination as he raised his axe high, a silent command freezing them in their tracks. No one would dare defy his will in that moment of intense turmoil.

"Wait!" he barked with a commanding tone. His keen eyes narrowed as he focused on the dwarf, carefully examining him and the situation. Something did not feel right.

"What's wrong? Is this some kind of trick?" Gawain questioned suspiciously.

" What's your name, my friend?" Reinhold asked, taking a cautious step closer to the dwarf, his eyes never leaving the mysterious figure.

"Name? Name is of no importance at this moment! I implore you, I beg of you, please, lend us your aid!" The dwarf's voice quivered with desperation as he made his plea.

With a serious expression, Reinhold turned to Gawain as he spoke: "His mouth is not moving."

Immediately, Gawain seized the torch from the knight's hand. Without hestitation, he hurled the torch directly at the menacing dwarf, the flames dancing in the air like a fiery comet hurtling towards its target.

With a deafening thud, the torch plummeted to the ground near the dwarf, casting an ominous glow that revealed a nightmarish tableau in the dimly lit hallway.

A hideous sight greeted them as they gazed in utter disbelief and horror at the scene in front of them. A monstrous being loomed menacingly behind the dwarf, sticking its wicked claws straight into every parts of the dwarf's fragile body, manipulating it like a mere puppet in its twisted grasp.

"It's a trap!" Gawain shouted, his voice filled with alarm and apprehension as his eyes widened with dread.

"Get in your position!" the king roared with fury.

In an instant, the knights immediately assumed their battle stances in response to the imminent threat. Reinhold stood in the forefront, brandishing the axe as his eyes burned with a deadly fire.

The monstrous beast let out a terrifying roar, the sound sending shivers throughout their bodies. Its eyes were filled with pure malice and hatred as it glared at them, its gaze piercing deep into their souls and evoking primal fears buried deep within them.

As the knights' eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness behind the beast, a scene of horror unfolded before them. The walls were engulfed in a nightmarish sight - a grotesque, pulsating mass of writhing tendrils that seemed to have a life of their own.

Thousands upon thousands of tiny creatures swarming along the stone surface. Their small bodies glowed a dull red in the dim lighting, giving them an creepy appearance. As the swarm moved closer, the knights could finally see that each individual creature was a spider.

A wave of nausea washed over them as the full realization dawned on them. They had just been surrounded by the vilest of creatures in a confined space with no escape.

"Gather round, brave souls! Let my words infuse you with courage and strength! For the trial ahead will be more harrowing than any we have ever known. Brace yourselves, for the enemy we face now is unlike the one we encountered before," Reinhold bellowed with a voice that thundered like a raging storm, commanding the attention of all those around him.

"We will stand with you to the very end! Our swords shall not rest until victory is ours!" The knights declared boldly.

"For victory!" Gawain cried out in unison with the knights.

With a fierce cry, Reinhold charged straight at the monstrous creature, the mighty axe gleaming in the dim lighting. The air around him seemed to crackle with electricity as his eyes blazed with unbridled fury and determination.

He leapt through the air with incredible speed and power, his movements fluid yet precise as he swung the axe with both hands, letting out a ferocious cry as his muscles tensed.

The axe glinted in the torchlight and he began to spin the weapon with blinding speed, each revolution causing the wind around him to stir, the gust becoming stronger and fiercer until he was standing in the middle of a raging whirlwind of death. At the same time, the swirling vortex of air that surrounded Reinhald expanded in size as he unleashed its fury upon the damn creatures.

With the power akin to a formidable storm, his axe tore through the air, shattering the spiders' skin as if it were mere paper. The force behind each strike was so immense that it left a path of destruction in its wake, reducing the creatures to nothing but a mass of broken bodies and gore.

The air around them was soon filled with a thick haze as the dust and dirt kicked up by the violent winds obscured their vision.

The debris settled and the air cleared, what greeted their eyes was a scene of utter chaos and devastation. The entire area had transformed into a graveyard of horror, littered with the broken and lifeless bodies of countless spiders. Their corpses twisted and mangled, a grotesque sight to behold.

Reinhold stood triumphant amidst the carnage, his clothes drenched in the blood of his enemies, his breathing ragged, and his body weary from the battle he had fought alone. His gaze swept over the battlefield, his eyes burning with a fierce determination that would not allow him to succumb to his fatigue.

"Onward, brave knights! Let us finish what we began!" Reinhold roared, raising the bloody axe high above his head as he ready to marched forward.

In a moment of pure chaos, the doors of the throne room were thrown open with a thunderous crash. Around twenty dwarves poured out, their eyes ablaze with fury. With guns and crossbows in hand, they launched a relentless assault on the spiders, their determination palpable in the air.

The dwarves were led by a 'tall' dwarf with long black hair and a braided beard, his eyes were a deep azure blue and his skin was a light shade of brown. He wore a white shirt with a black leather vest on top. His trousers were made up of black denim. A red handkerchief hung loosely from one of the vest pockets and there was a dagger attached to his belt.

The dwarf leader's eyes scanned the scene with a grim determination as he took in the devastation that surrounded them. His lips curled into a smirk as a thought ran through his mind, the words escaping his mouth with confidence and authority.

"Over here! Get inside now!"

The words echoed in Reinhold's head as he watched the dwarf disappear into the horde. The sounds of battle rang out once more as the dwarves fought fiercely against the spider horde.

At the end of the hall, where the beast lurked in shadows, a deafening explosion suddenly ripped through the air, unleashing a violent shockwave that reverberated through the entire structure, threatening to tear the very foundation from beneath his feet.

As a cloud of dust and debris billowed out of the hall, the sound of gunfire echoed in the distance as the dwarves continued to shot down the spiders. Another loud boom resonated throughout the halls, followed by a series of ear-splitting explosions that sent tremors reverberating through everyone's bodies.

"Retreat! Retreat to the throne room!" Reinhold's voice echoed through the chaos in the face of impending danger.

The king and his valiant knights made a hasty retreat back into the throne room, the dwarves close on their heels, sealing the doors behind them. Reinhold, standing at the entrance, gazed out with a steely resolve in his eyes, prepared to face whatever adversary dared to breach those fortified doors.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching could be heard from outside, the ground shook with each step. Reinhold tightened his grip on the axe while waiting for his adversary to appear.

The tension in the air was so dense that even the slightest disturbance could shatter it, and the atmosphere became thick with anticipation.

"It's here," Reinhold uttered under his breath. His eyes remained fixed on the doorway as he braced himself to face this new threat.

"They may huff, puff, and huff some more, but that grand door ain't budging, not in a hundred years or even more HA HA!" A familiar jolly voice boomed out in the tense silence as the dwarf appeared.

"Thorin, son of Thoran?" Reinhold's face relaxed as he recognized the voice and the dwarf's silhouette.

"Aye, you know it, old friend!" the cheerful dwarf replied with a mischievous grin as he approached them casually, his arms swinging freely at his sides.

He wore the same white shirt with the black leather vest on top. There was a red bandanna tied across the top of his forehead and a long scar ran across his nose, giving him a rather rugged look.

"I literally just woke up from a super deep snooze when I heard you and your lads were in trouble. So, naturally, I came rushing out to lend you a hand, hahahahaha!" Thorin said cheerfully, patting Reinhold's leg as he laughed heartily, his voice echoing throughout the throne room.

His laugh was a deep and rich sound that seemed to come straight from the depths of his stomach, and it was filled with such joy that it warmed the very soul of every listener.

"You've saved us, my friend! I thought none of you had survived," Reinhold exclaimed joyfully.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this party for the world, mate," Thorin chuckled, slapping the king heartily on his thigh.

"How'd you manage to escape the spiders? They must have been after your treasure, eh, you greedy old coot, you?" the King teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Hahaha! Oh, you know me too well, Your Majesty. You know, they say that greed is the source of all evil. But I believe it's the source of all ambition. And without it, we'd have no progress. No innovation!" Thorin said, grinning proudly as he placed his hands firmly on his hips.

"Just my name is fine, Thorin. No need for all the formalities!" Reinhold replied warmly.

The two embraced each other tightly, their friendship forged through the fires of adversity. In this moment of celebration, the dwarves rejoiced in the fact that they still had allies to rely on in their hour of need, their voices echoing in the halls with cheers and laughter that filled the air, drowning out the sound of the danger that lurked just beyond the door of the throne room.

"Well, enough about the boring stuff! How are things going on with Amelyna, Rein?" Thorin asked playfully.

"I'm not really sure... It's been a long time since I saw her. She's been busy with her own affairs lately," the king responded sheepishly.

"Oh yeah? You're not fooling me, mate. I can tell that you're still smitten with her!" Thorin chuckled, jabbing the king in the leg with his elbow.

The King chuckled softly, reflecting on the memory. "That was three decades ago, my friend. We were young and foolish back then. Besides, I am already married," he said with a smile. However, behind his smiling facade, there was a hint of sadness in his eyes as he looked into the distance, lost in nostalgic thoughts.

Thorin noticed the King's expression. He knew that his old friend was still pining for the woman who held his heart captive all those years ago.

But before the king could reply, a sudden commotion drew everyone's attention to the door. There was something happening on the other side of the door. The dwarves gathered together and listened intently for any sound coming from behind it, but all was quiet except for the faint rustling of the spider army outside the grand entrance.

"It seems like the spiders are gone, mate. They probably got bored of waiting and left to go find some easier prey!" Thorin remarked jokingly with a mischievously cheeky grin plastered across his face.

"I think it's too early to celebrate yet, my friend. Those beasts are cunning creatures and they won't give up that easily," Reinhold responded seriously, his voice filled with caution as he glanced towards the doorway.

"Don't worry about it, old friend! If they try anything funny, we'll be right there to give em' a taste of this!" Thorin said confidently as he patted the shotgun in his hand.

"How did y'all end up here?" Reinhold inquired with curiosity as he gazed at the dwarves, his eyes scanning them with keen interest.

"Ah, that's an interesting tale indeed, Reinhold," Thorin replied, his eyes glinting with excitement as his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

"When the orcs attacked our city, we decided it was best to evacuate the civilians to the safety of this place and leave only the warriors behind to fend off the orc. That way, they couldn't get to the people and take hostages or do whatever else those nasty bastards would do to them if captured."

"So, we sent most of the citizens through the secret tunnels underneath the city and brought them here safely. After that, we set up a defense perimeter around the entrance and waited for reinforcements from Ahrahbor, but no one ever showed up..."

Thorin's voice trailed off and his expression darkened as he remembered that dreadful day. He shook his head to clear the painful memories from his mind and continued his story in a somber tone:

"Alas, it was not long before the abominable spiders descended upon us. With relentless ferocity, they assailed our fortifications from every angle, until at last they broke through our defenses. My father, leading a valiant band of men, sought to carve a path through the enemy hordes, but alas, he was overwhelmed and plunged into the dark depths of the city."

"I remember the scene vividly; the screams of agony and terror as our people were dragged away into the darkness never to be seen again...the bloodstained streets filled with dead bodies and the sickening stench of death in the air. It felt as if hell itself had broken loose that night..." Thorin said with a shudder, closing his eyes tightly to block out the horrific images flashing through his mind.

"And then what?" the King asked curiously as he listened attentively to the gruesome details of the tragic events.

"Then I decided that I had to do something to save my people from certain doom. I gathered all those willing to follow me and led the remaining dwarves out of the city through one of the underground tunnels."

Thorin paused briefly, looking down at his feet, his expression filled with guilt as he recounted his failure to protect his homeland.

"Unfortunately, I underestimated the sheer number of spiders lurking beneath the surface of the city... The tunnel was infested with the vilest of monsters and they ambushed us in the darkness, cutting down my comrades with their razor-sharp claws and venomous fangs. I barely managed to fight my way through the swarm of spiders, losing many good soldiers in doing so, just to get back here," the dwarf lamented bitterly, his fists clenched tightly by his side.

The room was completely silent for several moments as everyone processed Thorin's story, the atmosphere heavy with sorrow. Then, the dwarf suddenly lifted his chin proudly, his demeanor changing instantly as he spoke again, 

"But I swear to you here today, my friends! We shall not let the enemy win, not while I draw breath and there is strength in my limbs. This is our home and we will take it back from the clutches of evil!"

"Hear Hear! Well said!" the king replied with renewed vigor, his eyes gleaming brightly with determination.

"Now that you're here, Rein, I feel much better about things," Thorin grinned confidently, placing a hand on Reinhold's axe reassuringly and squeezing gently.

"About your father..." The King began but Thorin quickly interjected.

"I know you did your part, old man. Don't beat yourself up about it," he replied, patting Reinhold on the knee.

"I'm glad to know you're safe," Reinhold said with a sigh as he looked upon his old companion with admiration. "I was worried sick about you when I saw what your father had become. I was afraid you might have suffered the same fate."

Thorin smiled sadly, his eyes filled with pain as he gazed at the King. "I know. But you shouldn't blame yourself, Rein. My father was a stubborn man, he wouldn't have changed his mind even if he had all eternity. Besides, there was naught to be done to rescue him, for he was consumed by desperation and chose a path of despair!."

Reinhold frowned slightly and looked away, his expression troubled as he pondered the dwarf's words.

"But enough about that, I'm sure you're all tired and hungry, aren't ya? I've got plenty of food and wine here. It'll warm the heart and soothe the soul, it'll make you forget about all these troubles and woes," Thorin offered, his tone lighthearted once again, as he gestured towards the tables laden with delicious delicacies.

"Aye, I could use some ale," the King replied eagerly as his eyes wandered over the banquet spread before them hungrily.

"Come on, old man! Let's get you fed first and then you can go rest for the night. Tomorrow we will discuss how to deal with those nasty critters."

The King nodded in agreement and headed to one of the tables. He watched as the dwarves shared stories and jokes, filling the hall with laughter. The delicious smells of roasted meats and baked goods wafted through the air, tempting everyone to eat and drink to their hearts' content.

Soon, the tables were laden with a feast fit for a king, with hearty stews, savory pies, and trays of golden-brown roasted vegetables. Tankards of frothy ale and goblets of sweet mead were passed around, adding to the merriment of the evening.

The dwarves and knights clinked their mugs together in toast, their eyes shining with happiness as they celebrated their reunion after so many years apart. As the night went on, the music started to play and the dwarves began to dance, their feet stomping and their voices raised in song. The atmosphere became festive and lively again as they celebrated their reunion.

Reinhold sat back comfortably in his chair, enjoying the sight of the people having fun. As the worries of the day melted away in the warm glow of the fire and the sound of laughter enveloped the room, a sense of peace washed over him, a rare and welcome feeling. With a contented sigh, he closed his eyes and relished the moment.