He scowled as he inspected it carefully. Talk about fitting it with a few gears would not help him draw it and he certainly didn’t have time for that in this situation even if he was able to do anything. He settled his feet firmly and pulled the string.
Before his frustration could swamp him, he had a moment of clarity. He wouldn't need to draw the bow the way Skharr did. As long as he could aim the weapon and launch the arrow, the positioning of the bow wouldn’t be a problem.
Encouraged, the dwarf sat quickly and rested the bow over his feet. After a few attempts, he managed to pull the bowstring back. It wouldn't go the full length but it would have to be enough.
He collected the arrows and inched closer. Courage hadn't been something he would have ever claimed for himself but for some reason, showing the barbarian that he wasn't simply a rotten little thief mattered. He would never be the mighty warrior his companion was, but he would find a way to make it work.
There was a perch directly above the flames and he crept toward it and settled himself securely. Thankfully, the hag who had put the cast iron cauldron over the flames now added water to it and made considerable noise, while the other two continued their struggle to drag their victim to where they wanted him.
"Keep fighting, you big lummox," Brahgen muttered and shook his head as he shifted slightly to stabilize himself in his improvised firing position, nocked the arrow, and tried to aim at the fire. If he could hit it squarely, it would give him the opening he needed to attack.
"Give him another godsbedammed fucking dose!"
"Do you want his meat to be bitter? His strength must surely run out soon. He can't fucking breathe."
Brahgen drew the bowstring back slowly, strained against the power coiled in the limbs, and pulled again with all the strength he could summon before he finally released it.
He watched in horror as the arrow sailed too high and into the far corner of the cave. The clattering was lost in the sound of one of the hags clanging a large wooden spoon against the inside of the cauldron.
"I'm hungry now. And he killed all our food too."
The dwarf snatched another of the arrows tipped with the powder and this time, used his feet carefully to guide his aim as he pointed it into the fire and drew back as hard as he could. He doubted that he had the strength to draw the string a third time. His fingers ached and his short legs trembled under the strain as he pulled it back as far as it would go. Then, with a pained gasp, he released the string.
This time, the arrow flew straight and true.
The impact of the arrow striking the fire manifested almost immediately as a bright flash followed by a loud crack that echoed through the chamber. He rolled away from his position and unsheathed his dagger as he climbed down from the perch and rushed to where the hags had been standing. They shrieked in pain and anger but they still didn't have their attention focused on him.
He approached the one closest to the fire, who had fallen and tried to drag herself to where her spoon had landed while she wailed miserably. He might have had a little compassion for them had they not been talking about killing, cooking, and eating Skharr only moments before.
The smoke filled the entire chamber and made it difficult to breathe, but it wasn't much worse than the usual conditions in his uncle's forges. Relatively unperturbed, Brahgen attacked the creature, drove his dagger hard into her back, neck, and then her head until the screeching stopped and the body fell limp.
He pushed up again and covered his mouth and nose with his cloak as he hurried to where he remembered the hags had been dragging his companion.
Sheer luck made him run almost directly into one of them. He jerked his dagger out immediately to catch her in the side and buried it deep and true. She shrieked and he yanked it free to thrust again. Warm blood flowed and spattered as he hacked and stabbed and his yells echoed his sudden battle lust through the cavern.
"Not so fast, you little rat!"
Brahgen’s bellow turned to a squawk of surprise when a hand caught him by the wrist and dragged him away from the hag he was killing. He turned his attention to the creature. Her hand was like a vice clamped around his flesh as she hauled him from his feet.
"You'll join the big one in the stew pot," she snapped and cackled.
"Isn’t that too much for a hag to eat alone?" he shouted.
"What?"
"Your bitch friends are dead."
The rags covering her face showed no expression, but from the way her grasp tightened on his wrist, he could tell that perhaps goading her when she had full control of his weapon hand wasn’t the best idea. Still, he couldn't help himself. She screeched and raised her other hand, her talons drawn and ready to slice him to ribbons.
The dwarf readied himself for the inevitable but she didn’t strike. He paused, a little disconcerted to discover he was still alive, and looked up. Skharr had caught her hand and now held it immobile. He looked like it took every ounce of power he could muster to do so, but it was an effective distraction and it was all the dwarf needed.
Brahgen dropped the dagger from his right hand, swept it up smoothly with his left, and thrust the blade to the hilt in the monster's chest. That done, he repeated it in a violent rhythm until the hag gurgled blood instead of screeching and the vice-like grip on his hand weakened to the point where he could pull free.
Panting with exertion and an odd sense of satisfaction, he dragged himself clear and almost stumbled from the effort before he approached again to spit on the corpse.
"Rot in the labyrinth, you shit-faced slime-begotten hell-spawn," he yelled and kicked her for good measure before he turned his attention to the warrior.
Skharr had sagged onto the floor and now sucked in air like he hadn't breathed for weeks. A draught through the tunnels cleared the smoke quickly to provide fresh and clean lungfuls to recover with as he sprawled on the rock and closed his eyes.
"Are you all right?"
The barbarian glared at him.
"Do…I look…like I'm…fucking all right?"
"Honestly? You look better than you did a moment ago when you struggled to overpower a couple of old ladies," Brahgen told him cheerfully.
"Godsbedammed…cheeky tunneler. Come here and…I’ll close…your fucking mouth…for you."
Still, there was a smile on the barbarian's lips as he finally seemed to gather enough strength to regain his feet.
"Now," he muttered, still wheezing like he was out of breath. "We should find the passage the damn hags came through, yes? There might be treasure hidden away for us to…uh, pilfer. Take. Steal."
The dwarf nodded and pointed to the far side wall. "They used a passage that opened out of the wall. I think it shouldn't be difficult to find."
Skharr nodded and half-stumbled to where he had pointed.
Once his companion was out of earshot, the dwarf looked at the ceiling and tilted his head. "I know I might not be the smartest dwarf to ever wield a hammer, but…I appreciate the help, nonetheless. Keeping us alive might count as a miracle and I thank you for it, Ahverna."
As usual, the goddess had no answer for him. He wasn’t entirely sure if she could hear him this far out or even if she had anything to do with keeping them alive, but it was best to give thanks in case.
"Stop mumbling and help me find the fucking passage," Skharr snapped. He sounded more like himself with every passing moment.