An Unusual Altar

                  Hjalmar Geir winced in pain. Grabbing his wrist with his other hand, he lifted his arm with a quick tug, snapping his shoulder back into its socket. He grit his teeth, doing the best he could to test the range of movement in the once dislocated shoulder. Hjalmar Geir tried to look around to get his bearings in the darkness.

                  “Foolish Hjalmar.” He said to himself.

                  Hjalmar Geir’s plan to survive the fall actually worked. Unable to see the bottom of the cliff, he clung to the dragon creature, clawing his way to the softer belly region as they fell. The weight of the creature’s horns directed the monster headfirst into the depths of darkness. The dragon creature landed on its head, shoulders and back, bouncing several times along an unseen rocky slope. Its body took the full impact of the fall, keeping Hjlamar Geir protected in the softer belly section of the creature. After rolling to a thud on an uneven ground level, the monster still moved. Hjalmar Geir grabbed his axe and ran, hoping to create a safe distance from the huge mutant dragon if it woke up. In his haste, Hjalmar Geir didn’t take the time to feel his way through the darkness and he fell into another pit, tumbling a significant distance farther into the depths of the valley. The fall dislocated his shoulder as he landed awkwardly on the uneven, rocky terrain.

                  Hjalmar Geir continued to flex his forearm and rotate his shoulder, annoyed that his injury came from a foolish mistake instead of a glorious battle. He looked around to size up his location. Without his torch, he struggled to see in the darkness. Although Tyrn’s eyes are far superior to that of a human, the underground world provided far less light than the dark night forests of his home kingdom. Yet he could still see the general shape of the terrain in the pitch black. He couldn’t see every pitfall in the deeper shadows, or much of anything at a significant distance, but it was enough. Hjalmar Geir could still travel in the darkness. He pulled out his spear, using it as a staff to help feel his way, and avoid any future falls.

                  Travel proved to be extremely slow. Hjalmar Geir tried to focus on the positive. He heard nothing from the creature that chased him before. Despite its brief movement after landing, he figured it most like perished from the fall. As eerie as the underground city felt, the quiet tunnels and hallways meant the dragon warriors remained far away. Occasionally, Hjalmar Geir would stop to feel around for materials to build a torch. The added light might draw attackers, but it would afford much needed light to guide a faster pace of travel. Yet this far below the surface, Hjalmar Geir struggled to find any form of organic materials.

                  As Hjalmar Geir traversed his way upward, he became fascinated with the buried city. Sometimes he climbed up through cave-like crevasses, other times he scaled walls upon walls of toppled buildings layered on top of one another. Based on the size of doorways and other features, Hjalmar Geir guessed it to be a civilization of dragons from ages past. The sheer size and number of buildings exceeded the size of a small village. The buried city rivaled that of Hallador, or his own kingdom of Tyrnor. No manner of curiosity could answer the question of why and how.

                  Then Hjalmar Geir entered a larger room. Unlike the other rooms, tunnels, and passageways he traversed, this room leveled out into a flat surface. Hjalmar Geir could walk upright, a relief from the constant climbing and uneven terrain. Yet the room felt strange, something felt off. Hjalmar Geir readied his spear, and felt his way with his feet, taking very slow, very well placed steps in case he had to defend himself against a lurking beast in the darkness. He listened but heard nothing. His heart rate increased. He felt a sinking sensation in his stomach, with no explanation of why. As he made his way around the open room in the dark, he couldn’t explain his uneasy feeling.

                  Several stair-like structures led him upward. Then, in the darkness, he could see what appeared to be an altar. Hjalmar Geir held still, listening. He could only hear his own breathing. He took a step forward to inspect the out-of-place altar. Again, he noticed how the roof above stood as an askew fallen wall supported by built columns, and like the columns, the altar stood upright, built after the destruction of the civilization. Hjalmar Geir listened and approached the strange-looking altar. Despite the lack of torchlight, he could see a few details.

                  It looked like the altar had a sword and spear attached to it. He felt with his fingers along the edge of the shrine. A fair amount of dust had accumulated on the altar. He felt the sword. It felt like a human size sword with intricate and well-crafted details. The other side of the altar had a hole, as if it sheathed another sword that had been removed. An extremely large spear stood in the middle, with a broken spear head dangling with pulled and twisted metal. Someone or something either wanted the spear head and failed, or possibly wanted to harvest gemstones that often adorn ornamental weapons.

                  Then Hjalmar Geir noticed a section in the center of the stone altar that appeared to be carved out. The workmanship of the altar looked very refined, yet a hole in the shrine looked crudely chipped out. It felt very deliberate. The altar did not seem to be cracked or falling apart. The chips around the hole felt like they were made from the repetitive use of a tool.

                  Hjalmar Geir pulled his arm away. He couldn’t tell if the dislocated shoulder affected him, but his arm felt strange as he touched the altar. He flexed his forearm, stretching and clenching his hand several times.

                  He felt more and more uneasy the longer he stayed there. As he looked around the room in the darkness of his limited vision, he could tell the walls were filled with inscriptions. It appeared the room housed a fair amount of activity at one point in time, although it appeared abandoned for many years.

                  “Nothing in this valley makes sense.”

                  Hjalmar Geir looked around, observing any detail he could with his limited vision. He recognized the potential significance of the room, although his priority was finding his way back to Yerik and his companion and get back to the youth. With one more look around, Hjalmar Geir exited the room, continuing his journey upward.