ã€ŠThe Descarrian Abyss: Level Oneã€‹


 Chapter 1: A Shocking Discovery

    ¡°The Descarrian Abyss, discovered by world renowned explorer Sir Rodrick Burton during the height of the Mystic Age, is a vast, labyrinthine dungeon buried deep beneath the world¡¯s crust. Partially mapped, over the course of many generations, by Sir Burton¡¯s descendants, Lady Theresa Burton was the last of her line to plum the dungeon¡¯s seemingly endless depths.

    After the, at the time, head of the Athurian Branch of the Guild of Explorers, failed to return from her latest mapping expedition into the, questions were raised by her colleagues about the viability of future excursions.

    Lady Burton¡¯s disappearance followed some 362 officially confirmed disappearances and deaths noted in the Guild¡¯s records and some estimated thousand more civilian deaths from unsupervised ventures by the common public. It was agreed by almost unanimous consensus, at the meeting of the branch heads of the Explorer¡¯s Guild, that given the continued danger and diminishing returns, that all future guild sponsored expeditions into the Abyss would be discontinued.¡±

    Professor Oliver Lambourne, Direst for the Guild of Explorers.

    The sweet, mouth-watering, scent of frying bacon and eggs roused Arahn Kays from his slumber. With an intense yawn he sat up in the simple, thin-mattressed, cot where he laid his head of a night and gazed sleepy-eyed around his attic bedroom. It was a small room, thin with a single window at the end which looked out onto the seemingly endless fields of wheat that surrounded Gillamoore, the small farming town he¡¯d found lodging in after fleeing the disease ridden province capital a year ago.

    Arahn crawled out of bed and staggered, still yawning, over to a table in the corner of the room. In the first few weeks of his new country life many a bruise had been gained from the low, sharply sloping ceiling but now his head ducked reflexively as he approached the washbowl and clean cloth he¡¯d laid out the previous night. The water was cool even in the summer morning heat but it was good enough for a quick wash. A cracked wooden mirror leant against the inside of the roof and he caught sight of his reflection as he dried the water from his face.

    His father¡¯s sun kissed skin met his mother¡¯s olive coloured eyes, combining to form an appearance that, to Arahn¡¯s estimation at least, was reasonably acceptable. Still only 16, Arahn had yet to develop the strong jaw and brow that had allowed his father to strike such an impressive figure, nor the twinkle in his mother¡¯s expressive eyes that had so captivated her betrothed so many years before. Nothing about his looks made him stand out in a crowd, which suited the boy just fine. In fact the only thing even slightly unusual about him was the ring he wore in his right ear. It wasn¡¯t overly ostentatious, just a simple copper ring with a pearl through it. The pearl was mostly white, but like a marble, had swirls of blue and a pale reddy colour twisting through it. It had been a 10<sup>th</sup> birthday gift from his parents so there was definitely a shade of sentimentality that kept the earing in.

    His shoulder-length brown hair was tussled from sleep so he reached for his brush in order to tame it. Satisfied with what little he could make of himself Arahn dressed, left his room and went down stairs, passing by the second floor of the tall, narrow house which contained the only real bedroom and the shared bathroom, and entered the kitchen on the ground floor.

    Alice Thorten, Arahn¡¯s landlady, was bustling around the cramped kitchen, putting thick slices of bread under the grill while a skillet sizzled away on the stove top. Mrs Thorten was an elderly woman, old enough to be Arahn¡¯s grandmother, her face covered with creases in all the places that suggested she¡¯d lived a long life full of smiles and laughs. The march of time had hunched her back somewhat, but she still managed to zoom energetically around the house and would talk animatedly about her younger days with her husband, and all the crazy clocks he would make, many of which still hung on the walls.

    ¡°I used to have them all going,¡± she¡¯d told him once. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe the noise, so now I just keep my favourites wound.¡±

    The old wood of the bottom most step creaked loudly as Arahn¡¯s foot made contact, alerting the woman to his presence.

    ¡°Good morning dear,¡± she greeted cheerfully, not even looking up from her cooking. ¡°Breakfast¡¯s almost ready. Did you have any good dreams?¡±

    ¡°Nothing I can remember,¡± said Arahn sitting down at the table.

    In truth the boy rarely dreamed anymore, whether asleep or awake. Not since his parents had passed, taken by the most recent rash of influenza sweeping the capital, had he had time for simple daydreams.

    ¡°Here you are, dear,¡± said Mrs Thorten after a little while, placing a mouth-watering plate of bacon and eggs on toast in front of her young tenant. ¡°Eat up while it¡¯s still hot.¡±

    ¡°Looks delicious,¡± praised Arahn, taking up his fork and digging in.

    His landlady really had been his saviour during the last year. With his parents gone Arahn had left the polluted and overcrowded city streets for the country, eventually coming to Gillamoore on the southern border. Without a travel visa, nor the connections to procure one, it was as far from the big city as he could go. He¡¯d left the city, partly to get to cleaner and hopefully healthier pastures, and partly to get away from the pompous snobbery of the aristocracy back home. His family hadn¡¯t been rich per se, but his father¡¯s textile business had made them comfortably middle class, his work with the foreign fabrics leading the family to rub shoulders with the fashionable wealthy above their station. The young noble boys always seemed to have a throng of swooning suiters following after them wherever they went, and while that might be enviable to some, having had conversations with them, Arahn knew full well there wasn¡¯t a boy among them with more than a few spare brain cells to rub together.

    Arahn hadn¡¯t been alone in fleeing the cities for the country though. It seemed that many young men and women were migrating from the cities these days as they looked for new lives away from the filthy streets and spreading disease. So the teen considered himself very lucky to have been able to find lodgings at such a reasonable price. Mrs Thorten had recently lost her husband and had welcomed the opportunity to have someone else in the house again.

    ¡°You¡¯ll stop me from collecting cats at least,¡± she had joked to him when he¡¯d moved in.

    After breakfast Arahn took his dishes to the sink, then moved to grab the cloth satchel hanging just inside the back door. Slipping the bag over his shoulder he thanked Mrs Thorten again for breakfast, bid her goodbye then stepped out into the back garden.

    Mrs Thorten¡¯s house was one of several at the edge of the village, facing out towards the wheat fields and a narrow dirt lane. But as long as Arahn had lived with the woman he couldn¡¯t remember anyone ever using her front door. Friends, visitors, even the man who delivered the milk, they all knew to come down the back alley.

    Gillamoore¡¯s schoolhouse was on a small hill just outside of town. It was a small building with only two rooms, the classroom which sat eleven children of mixed age, and an office for the only teacher, a constantly bored sounding middle-aged man called Mr Krain, who rode in from the neighbouring town every morning for classes.

    The school bell was just starting to ring its first warning for students to gather as Arahn climbed the hill. He could see several of his younger classmates playing outside the schoolhouse, throwing balls, rolling metal hoops and one girl who, for as long as Arahn had been attending school here, seemed to spend every waking moment jumping rope. Arahn could tell she was incredibly into it, loved every second she spent skipping, it was just a shame being good at jump rope wasn¡¯t a skill the adult world cared about. He sometimes wondered how long it would take her to realise she¡¯d been wasting her time on a skill she could never do anything useful with.

    Arahn moved to stand by the door, wishing he¡¯d walked slower up the hill. He normally tried to time his arrival to when the teacher arrived so as not to have to stand bored while he waited. He was too old to want to run around or play before class andhaving yet to make any friends his own age in town there was no one to greet him on his arrival nor to fill the waiting moments with idle chatter. It wasn¡¯t that Arahn had consciously avoided making friends, the children of the country were certainly more down-to-earth and relatable than those he¡¯d brushed shoulders with in the city, but that was precisely the problem. As far as they were concern Arahn was the other, a child come from the big city, with strange customs and beliefs that couldn¡¯t be fathomed by simple people. Complete nonsense of course, but their hesitance to approach him for fear of not having anything in common coupled with Arahn¡¯s own social anxiety had kept him firmly on the periphery of any social interactions with his peers.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    A short while later the front doors of the schoolhouse opened and Mr Krain appeared, greeting them and gesturing them inside. Because the school was mixed grade the students sat in order of age, so being one of the oldest Arahn took a seat at the back row bench. Sitting in the back row didn¡¯t bother him, in fact he preferred it.

    At 16, Arahn was in the last year of his compulsory education and was glad for it. In less than a year¡¯s time he¡¯d be free, free from the stuffy classroom and his teacher¡¯s endlessly droning voice. Not that it was much of an education to write home about. Arahn could read and write just fine, though he rarely chose to do so for leisure. He could count of course, and do his sums and tables, but again, beyond the management of his own personal finances he didn¡¯t find much use for numbers in his daily life. And those skills were long learned and perfected from long before he lived in Gillamoore.

    The higher brow subjects of history, geography and the social sciences were taught, but only in the barest of bones manner. Arahn could find his country, Batherius, on a map if prompted, could tell you who the king was, what his country¡¯s major exports were, the names of majors cities, rattle off the dates and places of major historical events like the signing of the Treaty of Free Peoples, or the founding of the Southern Trade Company, and various other common knowledge trivias, but none of it mattered to him. Knowing when 100 year old events happened didn¡¯t change anything about his day to day life and so, when his education concluded he saw no reason not to jettison the whole lot from his brain and replace it with more useful information.

    The only subject of which Arahn had more than a passing knowledge was religion, even though he wasn¡¯t particularly pious himself. His mother had been a very spiritual person, but indecisive in her faith, changing her patron deity it seemed every other month. As a result Arahn had picked up more than his fair share of information about Alvis¡¯ varied pantheon, though he¡¯d never felt a calling to follow any one or the other.

    Arahn was brought from his back row seat musings by the sound of Mr Krain¡¯s voice calling his name for attendance.

    ¡°That¡¯s everyone,¡± the teacher said when he was done. ¡°Alright, slates out.¡±

    Arahn opened the hinged lid of his desk and retrieved the small chalkboard, which was used for all their lessons, while Mr Krain walked the rows handing out a piece of white chalk to each student. At the school he¡¯d attended in the city each row of desks would have a large roll of paper fixed to one end. When students needed to write, a sheet would be unrolled to cover the entire bench and everyone would share the same long piece of paper. Such a thing was too great an expense for a small town school house so the reusable slates were preferred.

    After handing out the chalk Mr Krain returned to the front of the class and began writing out the days lessons on the board, along with a list of questions in different difficulty levels for the students of varying grades that had to share the same classroom.

    ¡°Today we¡¯ll be returning to the exploits of the Guild trade, seeing as you found last week¡¯s overview to be so engaging, I thought you might enjoy taking a deeper look at it.¡±

    An excited murmur rumbled through the class but Arahn slumped back into his chair with disappointment. Adventurer legends. He knew of them of course, brave warriors and cunning mages from across the world, venturing out into the wilds, hunting monsters, exploring mysterious ruins and tombs, and rescuing all manner of good people from the woes of the world. It was all a hot blooded young man like him should live for and yet, nothing could be further from Arahn¡¯s interest. What business had he to be gallivanting across the continent and getting himself into trouble?

    No, Arahn prided himself as being a simple, down-to-earth kind of person. Someone who kept his goals and dreams reasonable: a roof over his head, enough money to live, put food on the table and clothes on his back, and maybe one day, if he played his cards right, a family to share his days with.

    The end of class couldn¡¯t come fast enough for Arahn who cleaned up his desk at light speed so he could be the first out the door when Mr Krain finally dismissed them. In complete contrast to his border-line dawdling on his way to school, he all but sprinted down the hill and back into town. But it wasn¡¯t home that was his destination.

    The other reason he¡¯d left the city for the country was that he¡¯d also been hoping the opportunity to learn a real trade, something useful, would present itself. Arahn considered himself very lucky that the town¡¯s blacksmith had not only been looking for an apprentice around the time he¡¯d arrived but had decided to give the teenager a chance.

    His master, the well-built though generally shy on first meeting George Morris, was a good man. He could be grouchy at times when the work wasn¡¯t being done to his standard, but was genuinely eager to teach. Sometimes he would vanish for a bit near the end of a particularly long or gruelling day and return, thick, hairy arms laden with unsold pastries from his sister¡¯s bakery across town. Master and apprentice would sit on crates devouring the mountain of sweet buns, swapping stories until the forge cooled and it was time to go home.

    Arahn had been working under Morris long enough that he no longer needed to be told what to do when he arrived for a shift. Hours slipped by in front of the glow of the forge as he worked to heat and straighten the metal his master would need to properly fashion into ploughs and shovels. Blacksmithing was by no means easy work of course, but there was a sense of exhausted elation that came at the end of a long but fruitful evening of honest labour.

    As the sky began to turn pink with the lazily setting sun, Arahn laid aside his tools and hung up his apron. One day he wouldn¡¯t have to rush to the smithy after school, one day this would be his full-time job, but for now the day was drawing to a close, so with a roll of his aching shoulders, Arahn grabbed his bag and bid his master goodbye.

    The sky was just turning orange by the time Arahn arrived back at Mrs Thorten¡¯s house. He checked the doorhandle to see if it was still unlocked, as his landlady never bothered to lock it as long as someone was home. It wasn¡¯t so Arahn used his own house key to let himself in. The kitchen was strangely cold and silent as he closed the door behind him. The lamps were out and only a few thin shafts of light were peaking in through the curtains drawn across the wide window over the sink. Usually by the time he arrived home Mrs Thorten was bustling around with the fires going, preparing dinner.

    Had she gone out without telling him? Arahn thought.

    It was still early in the week so he was fairly certain she wasn¡¯t at the tavern playing cards. So where was she?

    The kettle was on the stove but it and the burners were cold, and the fire in the hearth was out. The scrubbed wooden table had been laid out for an afternoon tea with staling fruit cake, a plate of tea biscuits and two cups. Arahn stepped around the table and something crunched beneath his boot. Looking down he saw the remains of a teacup and saucer, lying shattered on the flag stones next to one of the toppled kitchen chairs. He felt an urge to clean up, his landlady had always been so fastidious, but at the same time a niggling voice in the back of his mind urged him not to touch anything.

    He edged around the fallen cup and chair, heading to the dresser by the door to the front room to get some matches to light the lamps with. He lit the one above the dresser, the flame hissing to life and returning light to the dark room. He turned and made to cross the room to light the one near the sink, then froze, the box of matches dropping from his slack hand.

    There, lying face down on the floor on the other side of the table, was his landlady. Her salt and pepper hair was stained with blood near her temple and she wasn¡¯t moving.

    ¡°Mrs. Thorten?¡± ventured Arahn hesitantly.

    The woman didn¡¯t move. Biting his lip Arahn edged closer. As he reached for her, hoping maybe he could shake her awake or help in some way, he heard a clink of chainmail and the thump of an armoured boot.

    ¡°Stop where you are, Boy,¡± growled a gravelly voice behind him, the words echoed implying the speaker was wearing some kind of helmet. ¡°Now turn around, slowly.¡±

    Arahn turned and one of the town guards stepped out of the front room. He was heavily armoured, with a visored helmet that covered his face. In his hand was a short sword, which he pointed at Arahn. The boy threw his hands up, eyes wide.

    ¡°Identify yourself, Boy,¡± the guard ordered, though Arahn had barely stammered out his name before he continued. ¡°And what are you doing here? Thought you¡¯d sneak in and make a go of an old woman¡¯s valuables would you?¡±

    ¡°I live here!¡± Arahn exclaimed. ¡°I rent the attic room, have for months now. Look I have a key and everything!¡±

    The guard didn¡¯t lower his sword. He watched Arahn silently for a moment, his head tilting to one side then the other as he seemed to consider something. He looked passed Arahn and then after a moment, nodded.

    A second guard Arahn had not seen stepped out of the shadows, came around the table and pushed the boy forward into the solid surface so quickly he had to throw his hands out to cushion the impact lest he concuss himself on the wood.

    ¡°Arahn Kays,¡± the first guard said with authority. ¡°You¡¯re under arrest for the murder of Alice Thorten.¡±

 Chapter 2: Miscarriage of Justice

    ¡°What?¡± Arahn stammered. ¡°You¡¯ve got to be kidding me. I¡¯ve been at school all day, then at my job. My teachers and boss can¡ª¡°

    ¡°Silence,¡± was the hissed order from behind before the second guard wrenched the boy¡¯s arms behind his back and shackled his wrists tightly. As he did so Arahn caught sight of a smear of dried blood along the knuckles of the guard¡¯s gauntlet.

    ¡°You,¡± said Arahn softly, rage flooding him.

    ¡°I said silence!¡± roared the guard and slammed Arahn¡¯s forehead onto the table, the sudden impact dazing him.

    ¡°Get him out of here,¡± barked the first guard, and a moment later Arahn was dragged from the room.

    The guards pulled him from the house through the front door. Out the front of the house the guard¡¯s horse-drawn patrol wagon was waiting for them. With a sober mind Arahn may have put up more of a resistance, but with the world spinning around him all he could do was stumble around as they dragged him over and loaded him into the back of the vehicle.

    Lying in the open topped wagon with the cool evening air going by slowly returned Arahn¡¯s faculties to him, allowing him to roll over into a sitting position and look around. They were traveling up the north-south main street which had mostly emptied by this point. On the corner of the main intersection right across from the town hall was the guard house. It was a slightly crooked cobblestone building with a pointed shingled roof, in stark contrast to the attached courthouse which towered over it in shiny grey stone bricks.

    The wagon pulled up out the front of the guard house, and Arahn was dragged off and inside the building. Though he¡¯d never personally been arrested before he had a vague idea of the arrest procedure, so it was a surprise when they bypassed the registration table, went out the back door and down a set of creaky wooden stairs to the temporary cells. The arresting guard opened an empty cell and then pushed him inside with such force, that Arahn almost knocked himself unconscious on the low wooden bed inside.

    ¡°No one is to speak to him,¡± the arresting guard ordered, addressing the cell watcher on duty after locking the iron cell door. ¡°He won¡¯t be here long; we¡¯ll be arranging his trial for the morning.¡±

    Arahn sat up at hearing this, an appalled expression on his face before struggling to get to his feet without the use of his hands. How could his trial be so soon? What about an investigation? He was a minor still, he was owed legal defence. Before he could say anything however, the guard¡¯s helmeted head snapped to face him and though Arahn couldn¡¯t see his expression, he strongly suspected the man was glaring at him.

    ¡°Keep an eye on him,¡± the guard told the jailer as he turned to leave. ¡°He can¡¯t be trusted.¡±

    The cell watcher looked conflicted about his orders as he watched his superior leave, clearly he too felt there was something unusual going on. But after a moment he turned to the cell and wacked his baton on the bars, making Arahn jump back in shock.

    ¡°No talking,¡± he ordered before marching off towards his office.

    Left alone in his cell Arahn sat down on the rickety bed. He stared at the wall, confusion and disbelief the dominant emotions in his mind. He had a powerful urge to bury his face in his hands but with his wrists still bound he was denied even that small comfort. His brain was exhausted but sleep refused to find him among the fear of what was to happen to him.

    The hours in the cell passed by at a madness inducing crawl, as Arahn paced his cell unable to find a comfortable position to lay on the bed with his wrists shackled behind his back. Every now and then he¡¯d manage to nod off, then jerk back awake a short time later from the pain in his arms. It was a blessed relief to hear the bells of the town hall and the crows of the farmer¡¯s roosters sounding above him in the distance, announcing the coming of the morning sun.

    After a while he could hear footsteps on the upper floor as the guards came in for the morning shift, and a new watcher came downstairs to relieve the one who had worked during the night. Accompanying the morning watcher was a middle-aged bespectacled man in a pale blue and white robe. He carried with him a stack of papers and waited patiently while the watchers completed their hand over routines.

    ¡°This shouldn¡¯t take long,¡± said the blue-robed man as the morning watcher unlocked Arahn¡¯s cell to let him in. ¡°I¡¯ll call for you when we¡¯re done.¡±

    Arahn stood as the man entered. ¡°Who are¡ª¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m your legal counsel,¡± the man interrupted brusquely. ¡°Now we don¡¯t have much time before your trial.¡±

    Arahn all but sighed with relief. Finally, someone was here to set things right. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re here. I have no idea what¡¯s going on. Everything happened so fast yesterday that I¡­¡± He trailed off. His lawyer didn¡¯t seem to be listening to him, instead rifling through his papers. He selected one and laid it on the bed next to Arahn.

    ¡°This is your confession,¡± said his lawyer. ¡°I¡¯ll need you to sign it.¡±

    ¡°My what?¡±

    ¡°Your confession,¡± he repeated slowly, as though Arahn was thick. ¡°You broke into Alice Thorten¡¯s house with intent to burgle. She confronted you and in the ensuing struggle you struck her once in the head. It wasn¡¯t your intention to kill her. You were later arrested at the scene by patrolling guards on duty.¡±

    ¡°But, but that¡¯s not what happened,¡± said Arahn. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill her¡ª¡°

    ¡°But that is what you will admit to,¡± said the lawyer firmly. ¡°You will plead guilty and take the lesser sentence.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to defend me?¡± demanded Arahn, getting angry.

    ¡°I am responsible for getting you the best deal that I possibly can. If you plead innocent and are proven guilty, which you will be, the death penalty will be very seriously on the table.¡±

    ¡°But I have an alibi,¡± said Arahn. ¡°I was out all day. My teachers and boss will vouch for me.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put too much stock in them if I was you. Believe me when I say you will be much better off with a guilty plea.¡±

    Arahn shook his head. ¡°This is wrong.¡±

    ¡°And yet it will keep you alive,¡± said the lawyer. ¡°You¡¯re still young, you¡¯ve got time to learn that the world will not always be good to you. But if you follow the plan you will see your freedom again in this life. I can¡¯t say the same if you make things complicated.¡±

    With a fumbling hand Arahn managed to scribble a wonky X on the confession document even with his hands behind his back. Then he watched his lawyer sign himself as witness. Just as they were finishing up, the door to the cell block screeched open and admitted a pair of armed guards. They clomped down the stairs in unison and approached Arahn¡¯s cell.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come to take you to your trial,¡± announced one, producing a keyring to open the cell door. ¡°You will come quickly and quietly, or we shall use force.¡±

    The guard placed a warning hand on the hilt of his sword as he spoke, the threat clear. Arahn grit his teeth around his next comment not wanting to push his luck.

    With his lawyer following silently behind, the guards brought Arahn out of his cell and led him down the cell block and out the door at the other end. It opened up on a waiting area that connected the guard house to the court building. There were several long benches in the small room and a gentleman stood by with a long wooden clipboard. He looked up as they approached and nodded.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    ¡°You can take him through,¡± he said addressing the guards at Arahn¡¯s side. ¡°The Judge is ready.¡±

    The guards nodded without speaking and led Arahn through another door into the main foyer of the court house. To their right the main doors opened up onto the market courtyard and Arahn could hear the voices of the market sellers setting up for their day. They seemed so care-free, so normal. The guards lead Arahn and his lawyer across the foyer and into court room one. Arahn looked around and couldn¡¯t help but notice that the viewer¡¯s section was completely empty. A Bailiff stepped forward and unshackled Arahn¡¯s wrists before leading him into the dock. Behind him his lawyer was rearranging his paperwork.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do or say anything stupid that will make the Judge hold you in contempt,¡± the bailiff warned before patting the short leather whip hanging from his belt.

    Arahn nodded, fingers going to play with his earing, as they often did when he was nervous. It wasn¡¯t long before the Judge and Prosecutor arrived, dressed in long black robes.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with,¡± said the Judge, a look of stress upon his face. ¡°I will hear the statements from the Prosecution.¡±

    ¡°Arahn Kays, an immigrant from Pernrith,¡± said the Prosecutor from the speaking podium, reading from a few sheets of hand written notes. ¡°He stands accused of the murder of Alice Thorten, wife of the late Baxtor Thorten.¡±

    ¡°And the circumstances of the murder?¡± the Judge prompted.

    ¡°The Prosecution alleges that the accused broke into Mrs Thorten¡¯s house last evening with intention to rob her of her valuables,¡± the Prosecutor continued. ¡°She arrived home while the burglary was in process and during the resulting altercation he struck her once in the head. She died immediately, but the coroner believes this is likely due to the woman¡¯s advanced age rather than any particular maliciousness. The disturbance was overheard by a neighbour who alerted the Guard.¡±

    ¡°And the circumstances of the arrest?¡±

    ¡°When the guards arrived at the home, they discovered Kays still at the scene and arrested him on premises.¡±

    ¡°And how does the defendant plead?¡±

    ¡°He will be pleading guilty,¡± said Arahn¡¯s lawyer calmly. ¡°His confession is signed and witnessed, and we are prepared to move on to sentencing.¡±

    The judge looked oddly relieved. ¡°Very well, in light of the defendant¡¯s previously clear record and the spontaneous nature of the altercation between him and the victim the court is willing to allow leniency and assign minimum sentencing. For the murder of Alice Thorten, the people sentence the defendant to a term of thirty years to be served¡ª¡°

    ¡°I didn¡¯t do it!¡± cried Arahn suddenly.

    This was wrong, just wrong. He couldn¡¯t just stand here, everyone thinking that he was a murderer and just let it go.

    ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± asked the judge wide-eyed. ¡°Have you not just pled guilty to the offense¡ª¡°

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t me! I didn¡¯t kill her!¡±

    ¡°Be quiet!¡± hissed his lawyer.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be my defence!¡± Arahn snapped back.

    ¡°The accused shall be silent in the court,¡± ordered the Judge with a smack of his gavel. ¡°You were discovered at the scene of the crime.¡±

    ¡°I live there! I have a key!¡± Arahm protested and his lawyer groaned. ¡°She was already dead when I arrived home¡ª¡°

    ¡°Mr. Brimble, control your client,¡± ordered the judge, speaking over Arahn.

    ¡°The guards were already at my house when I arrived!¡± roared Arahn angrily. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened, but I wasn¡¯t there! I¡¯ve been at school all day then I was at my job at the smithy! My teachers will¡ª¡°

    ¡°The judge has spoken, boy!¡± snarled the bailiff approaching the dock menacingly.

    Arahn flinched and the judge slammed his gavel several times with a shaking hand, then addressed the prosecution. ¡°Have you anything about the accused supposed alibi?¡± He sounded almost desperate.

    ¡°Yes your honour,¡± the prosecuting attorney said quickly patting some papers on his desk. ¡°We have sworn statements from the school administration that says the defendant failed to turn up for school yesterday morning and another from his boss alleging the same thing about his work.¡±

    ¡°I see, then the defendant has failed to produce an acceptable alibi.¡±

    Arahn stood in the dock, mouth agape in appalled horror. He had been at school, he¡¯d spoken to his teachers, his classmates, handed in his homework on time. There was no way they could say he hadn¡¯t been there. He wanted to scream. This couldn¡¯t be happening. He stared down at his hands sure that he had become light-headed upon the forge¡¯s fumes and must, at this very moment, be back at work hallucinating this entire event. The whole thing was madness.

    Arahn was jerked back to reality by the sharp sound of the Judge¡¯s gavel. He looked up, meeting the Judge¡¯s stern gaze with a look of pure venom before forcing himself to look down again. What more could he possibly say at this point?

    The judge sighed. ¡°Given the repeated outbursts from the defendant, I¡¯m afraid we¡¯ll no longer be able to accept a plea of guilty.¡±

    ¡°Understood,¡± said Arahn¡¯s lawyer sounding resigned. He shot an accusing glare at Arahn, who just stared murderously back.

    ¡°You¡¯re all in on it,¡± Arahn muttered under his breath. He still had no idea what it was but there was no way any of this could be a coincidence anymore.

    The judge slammed his gavel once more. ¡°With no alibi or other defence to discredit the prosecutions report, the court will find the defendant guilty of the crimes he is accused.¡±

    Arahn shook his head, glaring a hole into the floor between his feet. He wanted to lunge across the dock barrier and wrap his hands around the judge¡¯s neck. If he was going to go away for murder he at least wanted to have committed one first.

    ¡°And without the agreed upon plea arrangement,¡± the judge continued. ¡°The court has no choice but to award the maximum sentence. Therefore it is my solemn duty to hand down the sentence of execution, by hanging, at a time to be decided at the discretion of the North Betherius Prison, to which the convicted shall be confined until the decided upon date.¡±

    The judge slammed his gavel one last time and everyone started packing up. As the bailiff approached to reshackle Arahn¡¯s wrists his lawyer just shook his head and sighed.

    ¡°You¡¯ve brought this on yourse¡ª¡°

    ¡°Whether I die tomorrow, next week or thirty years from now, I will go to my grave innocent of my crimes,¡± spat Arahn savagely. ¡°My blood, however will be on your hands. We¡¯ll see what the gods make of that in the next life.¡±

    The suddenly stricken look on his lawyer¡¯s face brought him great satisfaction. Who knows, maybe the man was a more serious believer than he was. Arahn had never been much for religion, but for the moment, the thought that he may somehow be vindicated beyond death, that those who had wronged him may one day get their comeuppance, was all that was holding him together.

    With the final smack of the judge¡¯s gavel Arahn was led from the courtroom, once more in chains. Out the front a covered wagon waited for him. As he was loaded onto it Arahn noticed his boss standing at the back of a small group of market goers watching the activity around the courthouse. He was dressed in his church dress, twisting his hat in his hands, a miserable expression on his face.

    You were my alibi, thought Arahn savagely as the wagon started to pull out of the marketplace. And yet you did nothing.

    It was a long ride up the street and out of town, the cart wheels bumping on the occasionally uneven cobbles before softening as the paved street became a pressed dirt road. Arahn leant back on the wooden bench and watched the fields go by.

    Hours passed, the guards at the reins and the one who had entered the wagon with him, refusing to speak, ignoring all his attempts at communication. They did however pass him a water skin every once in a while so he didn¡¯t succumb to the summer heat. The water was appreciated, though he didn¡¯t know why they cared about his health if he was going to be executed and it did nothing to silence the painful growls of his stomach.

    Around noon they pulled up outside a large stone brick building with thin barred windows. Archers stood between crenulations on the roof watching the every move of those below. Arahn was pulled from the back of the wagon and led through a raised portcullis, passed guards in full armour watching over the entrance, the gate sliding down behind them once they were safely through. A second portcullis stood closed before them and while they waited for it to be raised, Arahn could see through into the prison yard beyond. The prison was built as a large hollow square with large barred cells, capable of holding dozens of prisoners lining three walls. A large dusty space spread between them, while watchers, guards and archers patrolled the stone walls overlooking it. In the centre of the yard was a raised wooden platform, where three sets of gallows stood, the rope nooses swinging ominously in the breeze. Prisoners of all kinds milled around in the yard, watching the entrance. They could hear the primary portcullis closing and knew very soon the second would open, admitting their newest cellmate.

    Arahn swallowed nervously as the second gate lumbered skyward and he was led inside the yard. Expecting to have his shackles removed and forced to join the crowd of onlookers, he was surprised when a harsh tug on his arm led him to the right, up a flight of stairs to the second level. Here the cells were smaller, barely big enough for a single person and barred with solid iron doors. A guard unlocked one and Arahn was pushed inside. His shackles were removed and he was provided with a set of thinning prison clothes and forced to get changed. Arahn did so quickly, not wanting to try the guard¡¯s patience, but carefully so as not to let his earing be noticed lest it be confiscated as well. Once he was done the guard gathered up his own clothes and left, slamming the heavy door behind him, the sound of the lock tumblers loud in Arahn¡¯s ears.

    There was a thin greying mattress on the floor and an even thinner threadbare blanket draped haphazardly over it. A bucket and a small three-legged stool sat just inside the door. Seeing nothing else to do Arahn sat down on the mattress, leaning back against the cool stone. There was no window in the wall, but a small thin gap near the top of the door allowed him to see the sky. He watched as the clouds moved across an ocean of blue, sounds of a hundred rowdy prisoners outside hampering any potential calming effect it may have had.

 Chapter 3: Law and Disorder

    ¡°Although thousands of explorers, both guild sponsored and not, have tried their hands over the years at discovering the Abyss¡¯ many secrets, it is estimated their efforts have barely scratched the surface of what the dungeon truly holds.

    The bulk of the Abyss¡¯ structure lies below ground, like an ever reaching, multi-limbed behemoth. Occasionally the tip of one of its many tendrils will break the surface providing entrance, for the brave and the foolish alike, to try their luck at plundering its depths. Recorded instances of these entrances have shown they can take many forms, from regular doors, to arcane portals, to rips in the very fabric of time and space. Certain gateways have even refused ingress until certain conditions are met, implying that someone or something may be in control of the dungeon¡¯s inner workings.¡±

    Professor Oliver Lambourne, Direst for the Guild of Explorers.

    Suddenly there was a stampede of footsteps on the metal balcony outside his door before a pair of eyes appeared at the tiny window. They swept the room, narrowed in on Arahn then crinkled in a grin, though Arahn doubted it was a good sign.

    ¡°Hey there, kiddo. Looks like someone¡¯s gotten themselves in a big mess, eh?¡±

    Arahn didn¡¯t reply. He wasn¡¯t going to give these lowlifes the satisfaction of getting to him.

    ¡°Want to know why you¡¯re in there, instead of out here?¡± the man continued undaunted. ¡°That¡¯s because these cells are for the death row guys, you know, the real monsters. But you don¡¯t look like much of a monster to me. You look like some little brat who¡¯s in way over his head.¡±

    Several other voices outside the door laughed. Arahn chuckled bitterly, still furious with the entire farce that had been his trial.

    ¡°The walking dead are kept up here cause the guards don¡¯t want you accidently getting shived down there in the cages in the middle of the night, at least not before they can wrap a rope around your neck.¡± The others laughed again and Arahn felt sick. ¡°We¡¯ll enjoy seeing you dance when the time comes¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oi! Get away from there!¡± roared a new voice and the prisoners scattered.

    A helmeted head appeared at the slot in the door, narrowed eyes making a sweep of the cell to make sure nothing was going on. Satisfied, he closed the sliding door over the door slot, before clomping off again, leaving the cell in darkness.

    Arahn let himself flop sideways on the mattress, his mind swimming with fear and regret. He was so tired. Physically. Emotionally. Why couldn¡¯t he have just lied, just gone along with whatever his lawyer had been trying to do for him? Why did he have to stand up for himself, insist that he was innocent? Sadness and panic welled in his chest, and he fought down a sob. He was going to die.

    Somehow, despite the noise from the yard, Arahn¡¯s full-body exhaustion caught up with him and he fell into a fitful slumber. In his dreams his landlady was making him dinner, but everything she touched got covered in the blood that was dripping from the side of her head. She kept apologising to him as she tried to clean up after herself, wiping up the blood as it started to pour profusely from her wound, like a faucet being turned slowly up to the maximum. All Arahn could do was sit at the table and watch her struggle, reassuring her it was alright, even as the blood started to lap at his ankles.

    Arahn woke with a start at the sound of someone banging on the door of his cell. He sat bolt upright with an incoherent cry, staring around disorientated. Where was he? After a moment the memories of the previous day slipped back in and his shoulders slumped. A second knock on the door made him flinch. The slot on the door was open again, bleeding the morning light into his cell.

    ¡°You want breakfast or not?¡± a man on the other side snapped.

    Arahn¡¯s stomach growled furiously and he staggered to his feet, brain still sluggish from sleep and approached the door. As soon as he was within reach of it, a chipped wooden tray was shoved through the door slot at him. It was all he could do to grab it before it slipped and fell to the floor.

    The meal was minimal, a small rye bread roll, a ladle-full of watery pottage with, if he was lucky, maybe four pieces of boiled chicken or were they potatoes, he couldn¡¯t really tell and a cup of water on the side. Arahn¡¯s family had never been rich, but they¡¯d at least been comfortable, both his parents working so this was easily the worst meal he¡¯d ever had in his life. The bread was as hard as a rock and took real effort to tear into pieces so he could try and soften it by soaking it in the flavourless pottage. The water was room-temperature, and tasted faintly of clay. All in all it was a miserable experience.

    About half-way through his meagre breakfast a loud commotion rose from outside. At first it was just some raised voices, but they soon grew more agitated. Arahn set his meal down and crept towards the door, hoping to spy what was going on. He couldn¡¯t see much of the yard from the door slit, but there was a rough queue of prisoners snaking around the central platform. They were all looking in the same direction shuffling from side to side, the line bowing out in places as people tried to see what was going on up ahead. Suddenly there was the sound of a fleshy impact, like a sharp push or a punch, then a massive clang, which made Arahn jump, as something big and metallic got knocked over, followed by a sharp sloshing of thick liquid.

    There was a beat of silence then all hell broke loose. The prisoners in the queue swarmed forward, disappearing from Arahn¡¯s view under the edge of the balcony, yelling and screaming in rage. He could hear more punches making contact and loud cries of pain, followed by deep enthusiastic laughter.

    ¡°All right!¡± the voice belonging to the laughter roared. ¡°Bring it, if you think you¡¯re hard enough!¡±

    A moment later several heavy footsteps stampeded passed Arahn¡¯s door, authoritative voices rising amongst the din, ordering for calm to be restored. The deep voiced man was still laughing and the commotion underneath the balconyseemed to only be rising in ferocity. Arahn could still see the tail end of the crowd poking out from the lip of the balcony. There were several stragglers hanging back nervously, looking unsure about joining the commotion. Their hesitation was eventually rewarded as they jumped back to avoid a large body flying towards them which bowled over several people standing in front of them.

    A gunshot rang out and a hush fell over the yard. In the sudden silence Arahn could hear two people conversing near his cell.

    ¡°I want a roll call,¡± came a distinguished male voice, anger lacing his tone.

    ¡°Yes sir!¡± replied the woman with him and Arahn could imagine her snapping to attention before her booted steps clattered away across the metal balcony.

    A moment later a loud clanging bell rang throughout the prison and a thunderous storm of groans echoed from the yard.

    Arahn nearly jumped out of his skin when a pair of glaring eyes appeared before his.

    ¡°Get back, boy!¡± snarled the guard outside and Arahn rushed to obey.

    With a creaking crunch the iron door was opened and the guard stood aside. When Arahn didn¡¯t immediately move the guard barked at him to get going, his fat hand going to the wooden truncheon at his belt. Arahn flinched and rushed from the cell.

    ¡°Hurry up!¡± snarled the guard shoving Arahn towards the stairs before moving to unlock more of the upstairs cells.

    Not wanting to get himself in trouble and risk an appearance of the guard¡¯s truncheon Arahn hurried downstairs into the yard. Immediately he noticed what had caused the commotion. Underneath the balcony a massive metal cauldron lay on its side its contents, a watery looking white stew, was soaking into the dust of the yard.

    Arahn looked around. The yard was full of prisoners of all shapes and sizes, rugged looking bandits and brawlers, shifty looking thieves, and everything in between. They were all gathering around the central platform where the gallows stood, but there were a few that stood out.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    The first was like nothing Arahn had ever seen before. An absolute mountain of a man, his bald head towering over most everyone else by at least a foot, even those who were already quite tall themselves. He was standing beside one of the picnic-style tables that were scattered about the yard and though it only had one occupant, he didn¡¯t seem interested in sitting down. Shirtless, his stony grey skin was stretched over bulging muscles, and covered in strange rounded flat protrusions on his shoulders and elbows, like there were stones embedded in his flesh. He had small tusks at the corners of his mouth, which was currently twisted in a kind of bored frustration. He looked like someone Arahn didn¡¯t want to mess with and as the other prisoners were giving him a wide berth, it seemed they agreed. Feeling uneasy, Arahn started fiddling with his earing again.

    Sitting on the other side of the table, as far as she could physically get without falling off the bench, was a girl that looked to be about Arahn¡¯s age, with long dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and brilliant green eyes. She was slender, waifish almost though womanhood seemed to be coming up on her quickly judging by how ill-fitting the prison clothes were on her. Arahn averted his gaze. It wasn¡¯t gentlemanly to stare and besides the poor girl seemed to be getting more than her fair share of leering glances from the prison lowlifes. Maybe that was why she was sitting so close to the giant man, when everyone else seemed unwilling to get near him.

    The crowd, who¡¯d up until that point been conversing rowdily, stilled and went silent. An elaborately dressed but severe-expressioned man, with greying hair, and a sharply trimmed moustache and beard had appeared at the edges of the crowd. He was flanked by two large, dark-skinned gentleman carrying spears and Arahn expected them to start pushing their charge through the throng like a celebrity at a meet-and-greet. The moment the man stepped forward however, the prisoners parted before him like scurrying insects, his pose¡¯ trailing behind him. The man strode confidently up onto the gallows platform, and casually ruffled the fur collar of his long coat before folding his hands behind his back. He slowly paced back and forth on the platform a few times looking out over the crowd as the gallows ropes swung ominously behind him in the slight summer breeze. Finally he came to a stop and when he spoke, Arahn recognised the voice from the man who had spoken outside his cell during the short-lived riot.

    ¡°Order,¡± he said slowly, his voice barely above a whisper but no one in the yard failed to hear his words. ¡°Requires discipline, first of the self and then, through the self, the society as a whole. The cultivation of personal responsibility, self-discipline and the maintenance of the social order requires strong commitment and conviction.¡± He paused, and swept his gaze over the yard. ¡°This is not something every individual is capable of excelling in however and when the fabric of social discipline breaks down, crime and suffering follows. So it falls to those in authority, your police officers, your judges, your wardens.¡± He smirked and Arahn knew he was referring to himself. ¡°To take those of weak moral fibre in hand and reinforce proper discipline.¡±

    For a blessed moment Arahn thought the man might be finished but he just took a breath and kept going. Arahn looked around. Though everyone in the yard was paying attention to the warden¡¯s words, the exasperated expressions on their faces suggested they¡¯d heard speeches like this many times before. It was true they seemed rehearsed but the warden clearly meant every word he was saying with an almost religious reverence.

    Arahn picked the least intimidating person in his immediate vicinity and leant as close as he dared before murmuring. ¡°Is he a follower of Kia?¡±

    ¡°That obvious is it?¡± rumbled the other prisoner out of the corner of his mouth.

    Arahn leaned back and considered the warden as he continued to speak. Now that he was paying attention he could see the gold triangle shaped pin on his collar. It was a simple design with corners sharpened to a fine point, its flat surface polished to a mirror shine, the gold blinking in the sun whenever the warden moved. The simple triangle had been a symbol of Kia, the patron god of Order, almost since His church¡¯s founding.

    Kia was one of the old gods mostly forgotten in the modern day, his place subsumed by Lord Tarius and Lady Mariel, a pair of gods representing the principals of Justice and Mercy, while a third, the Judge Leimirra, balanced their ideals before passing final judgement on human souls before they moved from the mortal world into the next. Kia had no such power over departed souls so it was easy to see why he had fallen out of favour in comparison. The Trinity preached an understanding of mortal and spiritual rehabilitation, and redemption from wrongdoing, allowing the meting out of appropriate punishment to the guilty and unrepentant, but allowing mercy to the innocent or those in special circumstances.

    The old laws of Order had always been more black and white, with no differentiation between those guilty of a crime and those merely accused of one. The top point of the triangle pin worn by members of His church represented Kia Himself, the lower section, his followers. Each point of the triangle represented Kia¡¯s values, Law, Discipline and Obedience, while the shape itself reinforced the idea that the rule of law flowed downwards, and was a thing to be dictated, not discussed.

    Arahn¡¯s mother had once joined her local Order circle but had left after only a few days, the shortest he ever remembered her being with a church. He remembered her complaining about all the arbitrary rules. It seemed every last thing had some rule or regulation about it, from your dress, to your hair, to what you ate and what you were allowed to read. Practically a bibliophile the thought of having someone tell her she couldn¡¯t read what she wanted sent her running from the congregation, or so she used to joke. Arahn¡¯s father had once mentioned as an aside that the church had been very insistent from the moment she joined that she start bringing her family in as well and that was the real reason she left. Arahn¡¯s mother had never told her husband or her children what they should believe, only encouraging them to keep an open mind about what could be out there.

    Arahn looked up from his thoughts just as the warden finished his speech and motioned to one of his entourage. The man handed his spear to his partner then took a scroll from where it was attached to his belt with a loop of leather and unfurled it with a flourish.

    ¡°Troll!¡± he snarled. ¡°We¡¯ll start with you!¡±

    ¡°Oi, I¡¯m only half troll,¡± whined the massive stone-skinned brute next to the table but he stepped forward regardless, the crowd scrambling to move out of his way.

    Arahn¡¯s mind boggled at the idea of anyone being half-troll. Trolls were monstrous beasts, some growing up to 20ft tall and all but the shy and solitary cave troll were known for their vicious nature and their taste for fresh meat, whether animal or man, it didn¡¯t seem to matter to them. Many a late night scary tale designed to keep young children on the straight and narrow starred the brutish thugs, the perfect villain for warning young ones against wandering too far from home. The thought that anyone could stand the presence of one long enough to romance them and produce a child turned Arahn¡¯s stomach. It was no wonder everyone avoided the man.

    The troll stepped up onto the platform and moved to stand in front of the warden who, though reasonably tall himself, was completely dwarfed by the giant man. They stared each other down for a few tense moments before the troll held his hands out palms up, with a taunting smirk on his face.

    The warden reached for his belt and unsheathed a switch made of a shiny black wood with a tightly wrapped leather handle. He looked between the troll¡¯s upturned hand and the smirk on his face, then shook his head and gave a humoured exhale of breath.

    ¡°You smile because you think your hard skin will protect you from the consequences of your actions.¡±

    The troll shrugged a condescending smile on his face. ¡°Worked so far.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± admitted the warden. ¡°But your continued disregard for the rules does not shine well on the length of your sentence. Some would say there is sufficient reason to not just increase your term, but remove your poor influence from the rest of the population who are trying to rehabilitate and better themselves.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± said the troll. ¡°You get back to me when you figure out how to hang a rock.¡±

    Though it was clear most of the watching crowd feared the half-troll, they laughed and jeered in response to his taunt, more than happy to take the opportunity to make fun of the prison authority.

    ¡°Silence,¡± said the warden, and though he hadn¡¯t raised his voice, hush fell quickly upon the crowd. ¡°No man or beast is immortal. One day your end will come and you will go, unmourned, to the other side.¡±

    The troll¡¯s eyes narrowed while the warden looked satisfied. ¡°Given the circumstances I believe a different punishment will be appropriate. You destroyed a great deal of food with your violent acts. Enough for the mouths of nearly four hundred men. I think it appropriate then that you should skip your next four hundred meals.¡± He turned to one of the guards. ¡°Make note of that. This one is not to be fed for, let¡¯s say the next hundred and thirty days, until he has paid back every last prisoners stolen meal.¡±

    ¡°Yes warden,¡± said the guard, snapping to attention.

    ¡°Good,¡± the warden turned back to the troll. ¡°You¡¯re dismissed now.¡±

    The troll looked furious and Arahn half expected him to wrap one of those massive hands around the warden¡¯s throat and break his neck, but after a moment of staring the shorter man down the troll turned and stomped off the platform. His rage was palpable and the crowd of watching prisoners scrambled out of his way like mice before a stalking lion. He reached the table and punched the corner, splintering the wood and making the girl still sitting nearby jump. He mumbled something Arahn couldn¡¯t hear then stormed off to one of the cells bordering the yard.

    On the platform the guard had his scroll out again and had started reading off names. One by one the called prisoners filed up on stage and begrudgingly held out their hands. Then the warden would take his wooden switch and whip the men harshly across the palms, their cries of pain muffled by pride and gritted teeth.

    Then came the moment when Arahn¡¯s name was called. It didn¡¯t seem fair. Whatever had transpired in the yard had nothing to do with him. He¡¯d been locked in his cell the entire time. How could he be held responsible for what had gone on? He climbed up onto the platform, trying not to think about the fact that one day, likely soon, he would do so for the last time as he was led to the noose.

 Chapter 4: Making a Deal

    Arahn stood in front of the warden who watched him expectantly and nervously rubbed his hands together.

    ¡°Hold out your hands, boy,¡± ordered the guard.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t involved,¡± Arahn protested. ¡°I was upstairs when¡ª¡±

    ¡°Roll call includes everyone,¡± interrupted the warden slapping the switch against his own gloved hand. ¡°If one person breaks the rules, everyone feels the consequences.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not¡ª¡±

    ¡°Not fair,¡± said the warden as though reading Arahn¡¯s mind. ¡°It is entirely fair. What do you think your cellmates would say to you trying to get away with what they have already endured? If you are truly angry about your fate, I suggest you take it up with the ones directly responsible.¡±

    Arahn looked out over the crowd. The troll¡¯s ears had pricked at being talked about, his ice cold gaze burning into Arahn¡¯s as though daring him to do something. Feeling intimidated the boy quickly looked away.

    ¡°Now, hands out.¡±

    Arahn swallowed nervously then feeling like a chastised school boy he raised his shaking hands. The warden¡¯s switch came fast and hard across his palms, pulling a reflexive pained yelp from his lips as he snatched them back and tucked them under his armpits.

    ¡°I would suggest you learn to keep such outbursts of emotion to yourself in future,¡± said the warden. ¡°Lest your expressions of weakness be used against you by your cellmates. The rabble will always use and abuse those who are beneath them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m on death row,¡± Arahn stammered.

    ¡°Perhaps, but the when and where are up to me. If I want you to die tomorrow, then you will. If however I would prefer for you to live out a few years here, sharing your space with the vermin, then you will. Never forget that your future is mine to dictate. Now go, I have others to discipline.¡±

    Arahn stumbled back down the stairs, keeping his head down. He could feel eyes on him, sizing him up, judging him. He walked passed someone who muttered ¡°Baby¡± at him under his breath. Tears welled in his eyes, partly from the pain of his throbbing hands and partly from embarrassment but he refused to let them fall.

    After roll call was over the warden made another short speech about how they should ruminate on their physical pain and try to repent the disobedience that caused it. Then he announced that due to the damage to the food supply caused by the troll¡¯s actions the rest of the day¡¯s meals would be cancelled. Arahn suspected that one cauldron of stew had not been the prison¡¯s food stores for the entire day and this was merely another layer of punishment. At the wave of displeasure that rolled across the crowd the warden calmly reminded them who to blame for their predicament and then dismissed them back to their cells, Arahn and the other death row inmates being escorted back upstairs.

    Back in the silence of his cell Arahn stretched his aching hands, clenching and unclenching them. There were no broken bones and the warden¡¯s switch hadn¡¯t even broken the skin but still the pain lingered. Apart from the occasional burn at the forge or the standard bumps and bruises of childhood, Arahn had not experienced much pain in his life, let alone suffered under corporal punishment. His teachers had often carried rulers with them as they stalked the classroom looking for whisperers and cheaters to punish but Arahn had rarely raised their ire. Mostly because he generally avoided confrontation, his outbursts at his trial had been quite out of character for him, something he was already deeply regretting, but also because he¡¯d not really managed to make any friends at his new school and so had no one to try and break the rules with.

    The tray from breakfast was still lying on the floor next to his bed and a wave of guilt at seeing it rushed through him. It didn¡¯t seem fair to Arahn that he be the only one fed while the rest went hungry. He sat down on the mattress and pulled the remains of his cold breakfast onto his lap. Eating it now was the last thing he wanted to do, but if it was all he had until tomorrow morning, he would tolerate and be grateful for it. After all if the warden was telling the truth and they were going to lose their lunch and dinner as well then Arahn would be hungry again before long.

    He had barely started trying to tear the remains of the, now stale, loaf into eatable pieces before there were footsteps outside and his door was wrenched open again. A guard stood in the doorway grinning triumphantly.

    ¡°Got one!¡± he roared.

    A second guard entered the room and stood over Arahn who sat frozen with fear.

    ¡°Thought you¡¯d get a meal in, would you? While everyone else went hungry?¡± the second guard said loudly, his voice bouncing off the close-nit stone walls.

    Arahn wanted to object and point out the food had been given to him. It was hardly his fault the guards had decided to deliver his meal first before the rest of the population had a chance to riot over theirs, but he kept his mouth shut. The last time he spoke up in frustration he got thirty years increased to a death sentence.

    Suddenly the guard lashed out with a steel booted foot, kicking the tray out of Arahn¡¯s arms and sending the cold slop splattered up the wall and the stale bread bouncing away onto the filthy floor.

    ¡°Still want to eat it?¡± the guard demanded.

    Arahn shook his head. ¡°No sir.¡±

    ¡°Why not? You looked so eager for it a moment ago! What¡¯s the matter with it now?¡±

    Arahn didn¡¯t respond. He had no idea what the guard even expected of him let alone what he should say.

    ¡°Thought so!¡± the guard sneered triumphantly. ¡°I suspect your cellmates down below will have some words for you when you go down for exercise tomorrow.¡±

    The guard stooped briefly to pick up the discarded tray before stomping out of the room, leaving the mess of spoiled food where it had fallen.

    Arahn lay down on his filthy mattress and stared at the ceiling. It hadn¡¯t occurred to him that someone would come back for the food, at least not until much later. And he especially didn¡¯t expect them to announce from the heaven¡¯s that he was daring to eat what little remained of it before it went bad. He dreaded the morning. A few skipped meals he could deal with, the reactions of the lowlifes downstairs to the audacity of him trying to eat without them, that was scary.

    Boredom set in before hunger did. He¡¯d get up and pace the tiny cell, moving from lying on the mattress to sitting on the tiny stool, to leaning against the wall. It was palm itchingly frustrating having nothing to do. At home he could go for a walk, or rearrange his room if he felt like it. Sometimes he¡¯d go downstairs and just sit in the kitchen and watch Mrs Thorten go about her business, giving her someone to talk to. He¡¯d even help her baking sometimes. Thinking of his landlady now made him angry and sad. He wanted to punch something. To scream and cry. But knowing there might be people listening kept him silent. The last thing he needed was for the guards to think he was crazy or violent.

    By dinner time Arahn was starting to feel slightly nauseous from hunger, the uncomfortable feeling in his gut the only thing preventing him from going to bed early. He both wanted and didn¡¯t want to sleep. On one hand he¡¯d be able to skip the rest of the day meaning that breakfast would come sooner. But there was also the fact he was dreading having to interact further with the other prisoners, which seemed unavoidable come tomorrow. Eventually the sun began to sink through the sky, darkening Arahn¡¯s cell and telling his brain it was time to sleep. Desperate for food with and a pounding headache from the lack of water, Arahn eventually slipped into an uncomfortable slumber plagued by nightmares. Of his landlady, of the prison and everything in between.

    Sometime after midnight Arahn was woken by a loud jingling of keys outside his cell. He sat bolt upright as the cover over the door slot was slid open. Arahn could see the moon high and full in the sky bleeding its silver light into the room.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°This one?¡± the guard asked, as though he¡¯d asked the question many times already.

    An old man came into view, stringy white hair falling either side of pointed ears while wide red eyes with oval pupils scrutinised the cell¡¯s occupant. Arahn felt like a lab rat being examined.

    He¡¯d seen the old man¡¯s kind before, though rarely. Most elves, known as fae¡¯rn in the elven tongue, kept to themselves and rarely travelled outside their borders. It wasn¡¯t exactly a secret that the general attitude between the Elven Orders and the Human Kingdoms was poor. Only elves who were not citizens of any Order, or who had been born in other lands generally chose to live in foreign countries. As far as Arahn knew there were no elves in the southern villages, so where this one had come from was a mystery to him.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the old elf said in a high weedy voice. ¡°This one will do nicely.¡±

    The guard removed the bundle of keys from his belt and unlocked the door. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, wrenching it open with a squeal of metal on stone. ¡°Let me know when you¡¯re done.¡±

    The man entered the cell his mouth curling at the corner in a smile that wasn¡¯t friendly. He was hunched over and scrawny, in the way the elderly sometimes were, all skin and bone. He wore a long black and red robe skirt that ended at his ankles, revealing long bare feet wrapped in cloth. He walked with a bit of a limp and carried a gnarled wooden staff in his right hand with a corkscrew pattern cut into its surface. All in all, he didn¡¯t look like any of the elves Arahn had ever seen. He lacked the poise and grace they showed with their fancy clothes, oiled and braided hair, and overly-formal way of speaking. This elf looked like he would be at home in an asylum, with his wild hair and eyes, strange dress and the slightly manic edge to his speech.

    ¡°I am Calan¡¯dal,¡± he said, then waited patiently for Arahn to introduce himself in return. ¡°I have a proposition for you.¡±

    ¡°What do you want from me?¡± Arahn asked nervously. He couldn¡¯t imagine any way that he could be of use to anyone, let alone an elf.

    Calan¡¯dal dragged the cell¡¯s little stool forward and perched on it, letting his staff go to lean against the wall.

    ¡°I am a cartographer by trade,¡± the elf began, reaching under his caplet to a small leather satchel pressed tight to his ribs by the short strap over his opposite shoulder and across his bare chest. As he did so he revealed the many red tattoos that covered his torso and the black belt studded with little diamond-shaped crystals, some grey, some red. ¡°But I have spent much of my life studying a place known as the Descarrian Abyss. Have you heard of it?¡±

    Arahn shook his head. He¡¯d never been one to pay much attention to legends or stories.

    ¡°Shame, it¡¯s a fascinating topic,¡± said Calan¡¯dal retrieving a scroll from his bag. ¡°Stories of its existence have been recording from since the first era of the Mystic Age. Which certainly gives you an idea of how long it¡¯s been around.¡±

    The history of Alvis hadn¡¯t always been tracked by the archivists at the Great Library and recorded, so much of the world¡¯s early history was loosely broken up into chunks called Ages, which were then further divided into eras. The first of the so-called Dark Ages existed from pretty much the start of the universe until humans first harnessed the use of arcane magic. After the Sorceric Academy was founded the world entered into what historians tentatively called the Mystic Age. The Arcane Era started the Magis bloodline, still strong today in the veins of every mage and sorcerer. The second era saw the great war between the Human Kingdoms plunge the Central Continent into a thousand years of bloodshed before a council of the ruling kings finally brokered peace. And the third had come to be known as the Golden Age of Heroes or sometimes the Time of Legends, when the great guilds were at their most influential and the farthest corners of the world were being explored. Or at least that was the threadbare history of the world most children were taught in their early years.

    ¡°What does a map maker want with me?¡± asked Arahn hesitantly.

    Calan¡¯dal¡¯s eyes sparkled. ¡°Right to the point, eh boy? Fine, fine I understand, time is a precious commodity, especially for someone like you.¡±

    Arahn¡¯s eyes narrowed. Was the man taunting him? Calan¡¯dal seemed to sense he¡¯d touched a nerve and waved his hands in a calming gesture.

    ¡°Now, now, no need to fly off the handle. I¡¯m here to offer you a way out of this mess you¡¯ve found yourself in.¡± He reached for an identical bag hanging from the opposite shoulder and withdrew a very weathered looking book, its leather cover stained, and its pages warped by water damage. ¡°Some years ago I came across the journal of a fairly unknown explorer, Professor Oliver Lambourne, who had dedicated much of his career to the exploration and study of the Descarrian Abyss. He kept meticulous records of his exploits, much of them lost, except for this one which he was carrying when he died.¡±

    ¡°What happened to him?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°Shipwreck somewhere I believe,¡± said Calan¡¯dal vaguely, opening the journal. There was a childish kind of glee in the way he flipped through the wrinkled pages. ¡°Anyway, since coming into possession of his journal I have learnt more about the dungeon¡¯s depths than I ever thought possible. And it is through his writings that I have managed to track down one of the Abyss¡¯ elusive entrances.¡±

    ¡°You want to go there?¡± guessed Arahn and the elf nodded eagerly.

    ¡°Yes, yes, I¡¯m planning an expedition you see. But I can¡¯t go alone of course, an old man like me? No, I¡¯m looking for a few hail and hardy souls to join me as, bodyguards I suppose you could say.¡±

    ¡°Why me?¡± asked Arahn. ¡°I¡¯m hardly the heroing type.¡±

    ¡°Not many are these days. Once was a time I could have gone to any guild in the land and employed a veritable army.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Alas the times have changed. Most people who know of the Abyss prefer to avoid it these days.¡±

    ¡°Dangerous?¡± asked Arahn. ¡°Monsters and things?¡±

    ¡°Oh if that were only what was contained within those walls. The world below is like nothing any of us surface dwellers have ever seen. But there¡¯s treasure too, mountains of it, from the records I¡¯ve read. Most of the arcane artefacts now prized by the archmages around the world were first discovered within the Abyss.¡± Calan¡¯dal said all this with breathless enthusiasm, but now his voice softened, his gaze knowing. ¡°But for you, who¡¯s looking down the barrel of a pretty desperate day, I¡¯m thinking you might find something a bit more valuable down there.¡±

    Arahn raised an eyebrow. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°Freedom,¡± said Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°I¡¯m on death row,¡± said Arahn, doubtful it would be that easy to slip the noose.

    ¡°And people say the Abyss is a death sentence! It¡¯s perfect!¡± A gleeful cackle slipped out of the old elf before he could stop it. ¡°I mean, do you think I would have been allowed to come and make you the offer if they weren¡¯t going to let you come with me?¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s either death by hanging or I suppose, torn apart by some beast in your dungeon then?¡±

    ¡°Uh, uh, uh! There¡¯s no guarantee of that, you know. If you stay up here in your cosy little cell your future ends in a hundred percent chance of death. But exploring the Abyss, well, maybe there¡¯s a chance of death there too, but there¡¯s also a chance of riches, of freedom. Once your job for me is over, your sentence will be considered served as far as I¡¯m concerned and you¡¯ll be free to go.¡±

    Arahn was sceptical. ¡°Just like that?¡±

    Calan¡¯dal reached for the scroll he¡¯d set aside while he¡¯d been eagerly flipping through the journal and rolled it out on the table. ¡°Employment contract.¡±

    Arahn leant forward to have a look at the yellowing parchment. Tiny cursive text stared back at him, looping back and forth over the page. He couldn¡¯t understand any of it.

    ¡°The terms are quite simple,¡± said the elf in response to Arahn¡¯s confused expression. ¡°You will accompany me into the abyss, equipment provided at my expense of course and act as my bodyguard whilst I explore. Once I have concluded my expedition, you will be free to leave, whether that¡¯s to return to your old life or perhaps to start a new one with any treasure we may obtain during our exploration.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to keep everything?¡±

    ¡°Oh, there may be a few choice pieces I will need to reserve for myself, arcane artefacts and the like, for my studies you know, but anything else we find we¡¯ll split evenly between all parties.¡±

    ¡°How many people are you hiring?¡± asked Arahn. It would be no good if he was going to risk a violent and bloody end for one 200<sup>th</sup> of an unspecified amount of gold. Dead was dead, but at least a broken neck at the gallows was quick.

    ¡°Well¡­ I say all parties but I can¡¯t exactly pay a dead man can I?¡± The elf laughed. ¡°So if somehow you and I were the only ones left at the end it¡¯d be a straight 50/50 split of whatever we can carry.¡±

    Arahn considered the offer. The elf was definitely crazy but he¡¯d gotten himself let into the prison somehow so his offer must be at least somewhat serious. It would be dangerous, there¡¯d be no doubt of that but life and potential riches was hard to turn down. He just hoped the other people in the group knew a little more about fighting that him.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing to lose.¡±

    Calan¡¯dal held out a black handled pen with a very fine silver nib, but when Arahn reached to take it, the old elf thrust it forward, stabbing the sharp tip into the pad of the boy¡¯s thumb. Arahn gasped and snatched his hand back, staring wide eyed as a drop of crimson blood hung suspended for a moment from the tip of the pen and fell to stain the edge of the parchment. There was a beat of silence then a sharp sizzling sound, like fresh meat tossed onto a burning grill, filled the air. The drop of blood bubbled on the page, then flickered like candlelight. In a flash, a bright yellow line scorched across the page, looping wildly around and leaving an inky black trail behind it.

    Arahn just barely had a chance to see his own name spelled out in perfectly curled script, before Calan¡¯dal tugged on the end of the parchment and the scroll bounced back, perfectly rolled in his hand.

    ¡°Glad to have you on board,¡± said the elf, reaching for his cane and standing, deaf to Arahn¡¯s confused stammers.

    The elf bustled out of the room, tucking the contract away into a case that contained four other scrolls, looking a great deal more sprightly that he had when he¡¯d first come in.

    Silence fell once more in the young man¡¯s cell and Arahn looked down at the scabbed spot on his thumb. Just what exactly, after all that, had he agreed to?

 Chapter 5: A Long Ride

    ¡°Day 1: I¡¯ve arrived in Betherius in early winter, the snow already to my ankles. It is much colder on the east coast than the west and I have yet to become fully accustomed to it. It almost seems a blessing to be going underground away from the sleet and harsh winds.

    We spent our first night outside the entrance to the Abyss and I swear the elf boy did not take one breath from his complaining. The cold, the food, the weight of his share of the supplies. Like all of his kind I have met he¡¯s sleight of build, with pale skin and strangely coloured eyes. When you compare him to the human heroes I¡¯ve hired it is like planting a runty weed beside a mighty oak. Sometimes I wonder how the men of the fae¡¯rn can call themselves men at all.

    I suggested in private to his mistress that perhaps it might be best if the boy stay in the nearby village instead but she insisted he must join us. Not wanting to lose my scholar and potential guide I acquiesced. She did promise to keep a tighter hold on the boy¡¯s tongue in future which is something at least and I thanked her for it.

    We¡¯ll be entering the Abyss at first light and I am already eager for what it may have in store for us. I will have to calm my excitement lest I fail to get adequate sleep tonight, which I shall definitely need come morning.¡±

    Professor Oliver Lambourne, Direst for the Guild of Explorers.

    After the strange meeting with the elf Arahn woke the next morning sure that the whole thing must have been a dream conjured from his food starved mind. But shortly after dawn a pair of guards came to his cell. Instead of breakfast they arrived wielding truncheons and manacles.

    ¡°Get up,¡± ordered one, his tone brooking no argument.

    Arahn obeyed immediately and when instructed to, held out his hands to be bound in front of him. With a hand on his arm one of the guards guided him out of his cell and down the stairs. The large cells weren¡¯t open yet but it already seemed most people were awake. Arahn could feel eyes on him, watching eagerly as he was taken across the yard. A great groan of disappointed rose when they passed the gallows platform. So that was what they¡¯d been hoping to see.

    Waiting in front of the closed portcullis with another guard was the girl Arahn had noticed in the yard the previous day. She was staring straight ahead through the gates, standing tall and back straight, like she wasn¡¯t barefoot and bound just like he was. When Arahn and company reached them one of the guards called out to the watchers on the gate, who began to lift the first portcullis for them. As when he¡¯d first arrived they had to wait for both portcullises to be raised and lowered again before they could move through.

    Outside a small wagon was waiting. Up the front was the driver and sitting next to him was Calan¡¯dal, who grinned when they got close.

    ¡°Look who¡¯s lucky first!¡± the elf called.

    The guard lifted Arahn onto the back of the wagon, who sat down on one of the benches, bound hands resting in his lap. When the girl joined him she sat as far up the front as she could, right behind the driver.

    ¡°Who else is coming?¡± Arahn asked.

    The elf swivelled in his seat so he was facing the back of the wagon. ¡°Oh you¡¯ll see!¡± he said with a broad grin.

    The next time the portcullis opened a single guard walked forward all but dragging two small figures, a fist gripped tight to the collars of their worn prison rags. Large bat ears stuck out of the side of identical wide faces, split with wicked grins full of sharp teeth. Ratty, straw-like hair fell in messy fringes over their large lamp-like eyes. Their faces were dirty and the pair had a mischievous child-like air about them.

    Having grown up in the city Arahn recognised them for what they were, goblins. The creatures were far more common in the densely packed slums of human cities than country villages, so Arahn was a bit surprised to see a pair so far out. Most goblins lived underground in primitive tribes, but over time overpopulation had driven many to the surface, their descendants finding work in factories and mills, due to their dexterity and a cunning eye for detail. Surface dwelling goblins generally took to human society well, and embraced economic commerce with gusto. Many found that they had a natural aptitude for counting coin and telling the difference between officially minted currency and its less legitimate counterpart. For this reason many of the more intelligent goblin¡¯s found themselves employed in banks and accounting offices. The less reputable ones however, found their affinity for shiny objects a boon for thieves¡¯ guilds and the like, their small bodies and long dexterous fingers, ideal for burglary and pick-pocketing.

    ¡°We¡¯re watching you two, do you hear?¡± snarled the guard who loaded them into the back of the wagon, lifting each of them one-handed. ¡°You¡¯re not running off again.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± one of the goblins squeaked, trying and failing to force their face into an innocent expression.

    ¡°Would never dream of it!¡± the other said, not even trying to hide their own grin.

    Its voice was higher and softer than their partner. A boy and a girl maybe?

    As the guard moved away they noticed Arahn looking and sent a grin in his direction. Arahn gave a small nervous smile in response. He was starting to get worried. The wagon they were in could only hold a few more people and so far they had two teenagers, two children and an old man. It didn¡¯t seem like the winning hero team Arahn had been hoping for during his talks with Calan¡¯dal. He glanced at the elf, who was still grinning, one of his legs bouncing with nervous excitement.

    ¡°Here comes the final member of our little group,¡± said Calan¡¯dal his eyes sparkling manically as the portcullis rose one more.

    Arahn turned to look and his eyes widened. Bound in thick chains and being escorted by four heavily armed guards, was the troll. The beast¡¯s eyes swept the contents of the wagon, then narrowed in Arahn¡¯s direction. The boy had a sudden flash of memory from the previous day when the warden¡¯s words to him had caught the troll¡¯s attention from across the yard. He quickly lowered his gaze back to his lap not wanting to further antagonise someone who looked like they could break him in half with one hand.

    The troll grunted as he was manhandled into the wagon and took the space on the bench next to the brunette girl. The girl made the way she rested her arms on the front of the wagon, so she could lean away from the troll, look natural.

    Calan¡¯dal clapped his hands once then rubbed them together. ¡°Well that¡¯s all of us.¡±

    ¡°Shall we depart then, sir?¡± asked the driver.

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s get on our way!¡±

    The driver gripped the reigns and flicked them, setting the two large horses hitched to the wagon into motion. They drove away from the prison and back onto the main trade road, though they were traveling away from Gillamoore further into the countryside. An hour passed in mostly tense silence, the only sounds in the wagon coming from the twin goblins who were happily looking all about as they drove, whispering and giggling to each either.

    Calan¡¯dal suddenly spoke up. ¡°It¡¯s a little while yet to our destination, perhaps we should all introduce ourselves.¡± He looked around but none of his new employees seemed eager to share. ¡°Very well, I shall start. I¡¯m Calan¡¯dal, a cartographer from¡ª¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°We already know who you are,¡± growled the troll. ¡°You talked more than enough while we were signing ourselves away to you.¡±

    ¡°This is all a waste of time,¡± the girl sitting next to him mumbled under her breath.

    ¡°Come now,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°You don¡¯t think it¡¯s a good idea to get to know your new party members? We¡¯ll be spending a lot of time together from now on and it would be nice to know who we¡¯re trusting our lives to.¡±

    ¡°Fine then,¡± said the girl haughtily, though it sounded like she¡¯d been hoping the moment to talk about herself would arise. ¡°My name is Cathran Aubert. I¡¯m originally from Seras and was only in this little city state to attend the Laria Girl¡¯s Academy. Everything was going splendid until I learned that my parents had been killed in some riot or whatever it was back home.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry,¡± said Arahn sincerely. ¡°I lost my parent recently as well. I understand what you must be going through¡ª¡±

    ¡°You have no idea!¡± Cathran snapped. ¡°I wasn¡¯t even given time to grieve! Barely a week after their deaths the school informed me I was no longer welcome. My uncle, the bastard, had taken my family¡¯s entire inheritance for himself and cancelled my tuition. And just like that I was kicked out, a child left outside the gates, no money, nothing but the clothes on my back. I tried writing to my uncle, still believing there must have been some mistake but I heard nothing.¡±

    ¡°What you get arrested for then?¡± asked the boy goblin. ¡°Loitering?¡±

    Cathran glared at him. ¡°A traveling medicine woman took pity on me and took me in. She offered to train me in herbalism, so I could at least support myself while I tried to get back to Seras. I¡¯d only been living with her a short time before the guard came knocking at our door. They accused her of witchcraft and we were both arrested. I objected obviously, but apparently the apprentice is as guilty as the master.¡± She gestured to the cart as if to conclude ¡®And so here I am¡¯ before falling silent.

    ¡°So you¡¯re innocent then?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°Obviously!¡± Cathran snapped. ¡°Do I look like a witch to you?¡±

    ¡°No, of course not,¡± assured Arahn. ¡°I just mean, I¡¯m in the same boat.¡± He told them the tale of being framed for his landlady¡¯s murder. ¡°It seemed we¡¯ve both managed to become victims of the system¡¯s unfairness.¡±

    ¡°Know who killed your old lady?¡± asked the troll, a touch of curiosity in his tone.

    ¡°I suspect the guards who arrested me,¡± said Arahn.

    ¡°Sound¡¯s plausible,¡± mused Calan¡¯dal rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Every authority has their bad apples.¡±

    ¡°Apples, ha!¡± exclaimed the troll. ¡°Probably tried to extort the old dame and when she refused.¡± He punched his own palm and smirked. ¡°Then you walked in and they found the perfect stooge to pin it on.¡±

    ¡°Also a possibility,¡± agreed Calan¡¯dal, then smiled. ¡°You seem more talkative now, care to share your own life story?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± said the troll simple, folding his arms and leaning back against the edge of the wagon.

    A tugging at his sleeve made Arahn look down. The two goblins were sitting next to him looking up at him with their big eyes and wide smiles.

    ¡°We tried to escape from prison,¡± said the boy eagerly.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± asked Arahn forcing his expression to look curious.

    They both nodded.

    ¡°First the lockhouse at Port Pheras Royal, then the garrison as well,¡± said the girl excitedly. ¡°They took us out of the city after that.¡±

    ¡°Then we tried to escape that one too,¡± said the boy. ¡°Oooh, I couldn¡¯t hold a spoon for a week!¡±

    ¡°So why were you arrested?¡± asked Arahn as politely as he could.

    Both goblins smiled broadly, mischief glinting in their eyes. ¡°We was thieves,¡± they said in unison.

    ¡°Was good at it too,¡± said the boy proudly. ¡°Then the Authority started cracking down on the smugglers and our guild got caught up in it. At least that¡¯s what the boss said.¡±

    ¡°But now we got a new boss,¡± said the girl smiling at Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°Now, now,¡± said the elf. ¡°We¡¯ll all be working together on this little venture. How about you introduce yourselves?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m Evan,¡± said the boy cheerfully, then jerked his thumb at the girl. ¡°My sister is Lem.¡±

    They both stuck out their hands to Arahn, who smiled and took one in each of his. The goblin kids had a very enthusiastic shake and as soon as they¡¯d released Arahn, they scrambled over to repeat the procedure with Cathran and the troll. With everyone watching her Cathran acquiesced, but Arahn caught sight of her wiping her hands on her pants once the goblins backs were turned. The troll stoically refused to unfold his arms for them and they eventually gave in.

    ¡°If you¡¯re not ready to talk about yourself,¡± ventured Calan¡¯dal to the troll. ¡°Perhaps a name will suffice. Unless you¡¯d like everyone calling you troll?¡±

    The expression on the brute¡¯s face suggested he¡¯d almost prefer it before he grunted out ¡°Morvar.¡±

    ¡°Splendid,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Well now that we¡¯re all acquainted the rest of journey should be very enjoyable indeed.¡±

    Shortly thereafter the wagon descended back into silence and remained that way until the goblins got bored and started to play at seeing how far they could lean over the side of the wagon to watch the pounding of the horse¡¯s hooves and rolling of the wagon wheels. Sensing trouble Calan¡¯dal tapped his staff on the floor of the wagon then once he had the children¡¯s attention roped them into some simple travelling games. He would choose something he could see from the cart then the goblins would have to guess what he was thinking of. Given the lack of varied scenery they quickly tired of it, so he moved on to another where he¡¯d pick a word at random then the kids would have to think of a word that started with the same letter as the previous word ended with. Straight forward enough but an interesting challenge to the kids with their much more limited vocabulary in the common tongue. At some point all the words became types of food and Arahn¡¯s stomach began to grumble again at the reminder.

    ¡°Will you shut up!¡± snarled Morvar seconds later, making Cathran flinch next to him.

    Calan¡¯dal laughed good naturedly ¡°Come now it¡¯s only a ga¡ª¡°

    ¡°None of us have eaten since before yesterday morning,¡± the troll growled slowly. ¡°So stop yammering on about food!¡±

    ¡°Ah, I see, a good point,¡± said Calan¡¯dal with a nod. ¡°Let¡¯s avoid food names for a while, shall we?¡±

    Evan crossed his arms as best he could wearing manacles and pouted. ¡°Why we gotta listen to him? We hungry too!¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± agreed Lem matching her brother¡¯s pose. ¡°Food talk is fun. Let¡¯s you pretend you have it.¡± She turned to Morvar and stuck out her tongue at him. ¡°If he don¡¯t like it he can close his ears!¡±

    ¡°Or,¡± said the troll menacingly. ¡°He can throw the brats off the wagon.¡±

    ¡°Hardly an appropriate thing to say to a child,¡± said Calan¡¯dal.

    Morvar bared his teeth. ¡°I beat a man in a pub to death with my bare hands,¡± he growled. ¡°Don¡¯t think I care about going easy on little girls.¡±

    Both goblin¡¯s eyes widened and even Cathran looked shocked. Silence returned to the wagon soon after, though the goblins sulked and continued to mutter to each other for a while longer.

    As it neared noon the wagon pulled off the maintained trade road and onto an uneven dirt track that wound around the edge of a forest, fading into grass and back to dirt every now and then. The cart jerked and rocked beneath them as they went, so much so in one patch that Arahn was tossed from his seat and halfway across Morvar¡¯s lap. Jumping back with stammered apologies he received only a deep grunt in reply from the troll. The wagon continued on its way around the forest, just barely brushing the edges of the trees, before tipping slightly as they rolled down a shallow hill, swaying and creaking before finally coming to a stop.

    ¡°Alright, end of the line,¡± said the driver.

    ¡°Wonderful!¡± said Calan¡¯dal. He reached into one of his pouches, withdrew a single gold coin and passed it to the driver before climbing down off the wagon.

    The twins scrambled off after him eagerly and the wagon lurched violently a moment later when Morvar stood, walked to the back and stepped off. He landed with a heavy sound on the grass and stretched, his chains clanking. Arahn and Cathran waited until the troll had moved away from the wagon before following.

    Once everyone had disembarked the driver turned the wagon around and drove away with barely a backwards glance, looking eager to get away from the area as quickly as possible.

    Arahn looked around. They were standing in wide depression in the ground, like a crater that had long since been overgrown with thick grass. In the centre of it there was a huge outcropping of stone, tall and jagged like someone had punched the shards of rock up from deep beneath the earth. On one side of the largest of the boulders was a double stone doorframe. It was covered in moss and lichen and Arahn could just barely see the top of some stairs but beyond that was nothing but darkness.

    ¡°Is that the entrance?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yes,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal hobbling over. ¡°Spooky isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Before Arahn could reply Cathran inserted herself into the conversation.

    ¡°Hey! Are we supposed to be going down with these,¡± she jangled her manacles. ¡°Still on?¡±

    Calan¡¯dal laughed. ¡°No, of course not! That was just to keep the prison happy.¡± A moment later he produced a chunky looking key from within the folds of his caplette. ¡°Come here and let me get those off of you.¡±

    Cathran almost tripped over herself in her eagerness to get to the old elf. She thrust her hands towards him and he quickly unlocked her manacles. He turned to Arahn next to undo his, then with the boy¡¯s help freed the twins as well.

    ¡°Sorry, but this old man doesn¡¯t bend so well anymore,¡± he apologised as Arahn lifted each goblin in turn so Calan¡¯dal could reach their hands.

    Morvar¡¯s release was a little more complicated as he¡¯d been bound with several extra lengths of chain constructed into a harness over his shoulders, and around his chest and upper arms to ensure he was properly secured. It was clear who amongst them the prison guards had considered to be the bigger threat. Not that Arahn could blame them. Morvar was a beast. Standing so close to him was making the regular sized human feel very small indeed.

 Chapter 6: Into the Abyss

    ¡°Day 2 Morning: Our entrance into the Abyss proceeded with little issue. The stairs down were maintained but unlit. Fortunately we had plenty of torches, because not only did we need to light our initial decent but also the many lamps in the rooms beyond.

    We¡¯ll be stopping periodically as we explore to make records of what we find so I expect to make multiple diary entries per day.

    The first room felt far too tall for the depth we had descended, proving to me immediately that the space within the Abyss and the physical earth around it weren¡¯t always related. But whether that meant we had descended further than we thought, the room itself was smaller than it appeared or it was somehow forcing itself into a smaller space while magically maintaining its larger dimensions I did not yet know. It was clear to me this would need much more study.

    Professor Oliver Lambourne, Direst for the Guild of Explorers.

    The sudden sound of clattering hooves made them turn. Atop the hill looking down on them a man dressed in robes similar to the ones Arahn¡¯s lawyer had been wearing at the trial. For a moment Arahn thought it was the same man, but his wild ginger hair clashed so badly with the baby blue colour of his clothes there was no mistaking them for each other. The red-head on the horse was breathing hard from the ride as though he¡¯d run there carrying the horse rather than the other way around.

    ¡°I¡¯m looking for Arahn Kays,¡± he panted looking between them.

    Calan¡¯dal nudged his staff in Arahn¡¯s direction. The man on the horse visibly sagged with relief.

    ¡°I¡¯m so glad I managed to catch you,¡± he said, sliding off his horse too fast and nearly face-planting in the dirt. He quickly brushed himself off and started rummaging through his horse¡¯s saddlebags. ¡°The details of your sentence kept changing around at the last minute, so I kept missing you.¡±

    The man produced a fat scroll and a small square box and slid down the hill to join them. When he reached them he handed the box to Arahn and unfurled the scroll.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see here. By the power vested in me by the sovereign state of Batherius and by my clients Baxter and Alice Thorten¡ª¡°

    ¡°Clients?¡± asked Arahn confused.

    ¡°He¡¯s a lawyer, I believe,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Am I wrong?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I mean no, that¡¯s correct,¡± said the ginger gentleman before returning to his scroll. ¡°As hired legal counsel it is my duty to impart details of the recently deceased¡¯s final will and testament, to the partial beneficiary Arahn Kays. Ah, which is you.¡±

    ¡°Mrs Thorten left me something in her will?¡±

    ¡°Well yes, I mean, that¡¯s what it says here.¡±

    ¡°But why would she add me to her will?¡± asked Arahn confused. ¡°I¡¯d only been living with her a few months. It¡¯s not like we were related or anything.¡±

    ¡°Mrs Thorten¡¯s will wasn¡¯t very long. She left some money to her local bridge club, a distant cousin in Athuria got the house and most of the furniture, and there were a few other bits and bobs that were spread amongst her friends in the village. But for this item, ahem, To my renting tenant, I leave the contents of the box I have left in the care of the Post Office in Pernrith City.¡±

    ¡°Renting tenant?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s what it says. You know, it¡¯s interesting actually. I thought it was going to be more difficult to get my hands on it, you know how the Post Masters are, but one of them arrived on my doorstep the morning after her passing. I hadn¡¯t even started filing the paperwork yet. The difficult part was finding you actually. I had to ask around town to find out who her current tenant was as there was no name.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like she wanted to get rid of it,¡± grunted Morvar.

    ¡°How recently was her will updated?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal curious.

    ¡°Shortly after her husband¡¯s death,¡± said the lawyer. ¡°That was, let¡¯s see, nearly three years ago now.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s not me she left this to, it was whoever was renting from her three years ago,¡± said Arahn.

    He held out the box for the lawyer to take back, but the ginger man shook his head.

    ¡°As long as I¡¯ve been handling her legal affairs Mrs Thorten has never been without a tenant. I believe if she meant for this item to go to a specific individual she would have said as such. She just wanted it to go to whoever was renting from her at the time of her death. Perhaps she merely wanted to thank her tenant for their company.¡±

    Arahn pulled the top off the small box and removed the object within. It was a pocket watch. Made of simple tarnished brass with a big winding knob on the top and a button to flip open the cover. It looked old and not very well taken care of, and when Arahn pressed the button to open it, nothing happened. He then tried to open the cover by force, then tried again with his thumb pressed tight to the button. Nothing.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± mused Calan¡¯dal leaning over the boy¡¯s shoulder.

    Arahn handed the watch to him when he held out a wrinkled hand.  The elf turned it over a few times in his hands, trying everything Arahn had and a few things he hadn¡¯t including gently biting it, before pursing his lip at it while holding it in front of his face by its chain. ¡°How interesting.¡±

    ¡°Looks busted,¡± piped up Lem.

    ¡°So it would seem,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, handing the timepiece back to Arahn. ¡°Well whatever the condition it¡¯s in, it belongs to you now.¡±

    Arahn couldn¡¯t see how a broken pocket watch was going to help him any but with nothing else to do with it he put it in his pocket.

    ¡°Was there anything else?¡±

    The lawyer quickly reread his paperwork then shook his head. ¡°No, I think that¡¯s everything.¡± He pulled a business card for his legal firm out of his robes. ¡°Well, that¡¯s me then, if you ever have need of legal advice, my rates are reasonable.¡±

    Morvar watched the lawyer leave. He looked to the retreating horse, then to the entrance of the Abyss and back again. After a moment he rolled his shoulders and started walking in the direction the lawyer had left.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°I¡¯m out,¡± he said with a gruff casualness, raising a hand in a careless wave. ¡°Thanks for the prison break.¡±

    ¡°Hey! We had a deal!¡± the elf called after him.

    ¡°Well I¡¯ve changed my mind,¡± said the troll. ¡°Not gonna babysit you and your brats.¡±

    ¡°I said we had a deal,¡± repeated Calan¡¯dal firmly.

    The elf raised his carved staff and brought it down again, slamming it on the ground. The grooves that spiralled up its surface crackled with red light. Morvar grunted in pain and staggered, then fell hard to his hands and knees. Bands of light, like those on Calan¡¯dal¡¯s staff had materialised around the troll¡¯s wrists, ankles and neck.

    Calan¡¯dal limped forward and moved to stand in front of the bound and kneeling troll using the glowing tip of his staff to tilt the man¡¯s head up.

    ¡°Our contract will not be broken so easily,¡± said the elf, a dark edge bleeding into his manic voice.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°What did you do?¡± Morvar demanded through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Insurance,¡± said the elf casually stepping back.

    The lights faded but it took a moment before the troll managed to stagger to his trembling legs. He muttered something under his breath that made Calan¡¯dal smirk. Suddenly Morvar lunged forward wrapping a massive hand around the elder¡¯s skinny neck. The elf¡¯s staff fell to the grass, his hands flying reflexively to his attacker¡¯s wrist.

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± the elf wheezed. ¡°Kill me. See how quickly you and kids follow!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re bluffing.¡±

    ¡°Mmm, could be! Want to take that bet?¡±

    Morvar growled furiously, thick fingers twitching, but after a few long tense seconds he set the giggling elf down.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mistake me, elf,¡± the troll spat as Calan¡¯dal readjusted his collar. ¡°I¡¯ll find a way to make you suffer.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure you will,¡± said the elf cheerfully, gently patting Morvar on the arm as he moved passed him. ¡°But not until I¡¯m done with you.¡±

    They gathered around the entrance to the Abyss and Arahn stared down the stairs into the inky void below. He couldn¡¯t even tell how long the staircase was. It felt like as soon as the sun¡¯s light passed through the doorway it vanished.

    ¡°Suppose it¡¯s too much to ask that you brought some torches?¡± grunted Morvar, clearly still angry.

    ¡°There¡¯s lights down at the bottom,¡± said Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°The bottom?¡± asked Cathran. ¡°You¡¯ve been here before?¡±

    ¡°Just the first room. Had a guy help me with some equipment last week. I told you I¡¯d be preparing for this didn¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°I suppose¡­¡±

    ¡°Great, well then lady¡¯s first!¡±

    Cathran¡¯s eyes widened and she hesitated, rocking slightly on the edge of the first step, unwilling to move. Until Morvar shoved passed her: ¡°We haven¡¯t got all day!¡± The twins giggled in unison and scampered after him. Finally Cathran took a step forward, Calan¡¯dal close behind her.

    The moment Arahn moved through the doorway the sunlight ceased to reach him, plunging the stairway into darkness. But not completely. Without the sun to distract him the length of the staircase became apparent, as did the flickering of distant orange light.

    He could hear the heavy sound of the troll¡¯s feet ahead, accompanied by the energetic pitter-patter of the goblins chasing after him. Cathran was just in front of him, taking the steps carefully but it was the elf that seemed to be having the most trouble even though he was the one who had been here before. The tap of his staff was loud on the stone stairs and as Arahn¡¯s eyes started to get used to the gloom he could see Calan¡¯dal¡¯s hunched figure up against the wall, hand on it for balance.

    ¡°Do you, need some help?¡± Arahn asked hesitantly.

    ¡°You¡¯re a good kid you know that?¡± said Calan¡¯dal, though Arahn couldn¡¯t tell if he was being complimented or insulted.

    ¡°Thank you?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me, my knees are old and my back is old and well, my everything is old, let¡¯s be honest and slippery stairs in the dark are not my first choice of terrain.¡± Calan¡¯dal¡¯s silhouette waved him away. ¡°Go on, go see what¡¯s downstairs. I¡¯ll be with you before you know it.¡±

    The room at the base of the stairs was of reasonable size and built of large square stone bricks. Six pillars supported an arched ceiling and the floor was polished flagged stone, while wrought iron torch brackets lined the walls. The entire room danced with the firelight from the many torches, illuminating  the elaborate carvings on the walls.

    ¡°Wow,¡± said Evan and Lem, practically in unison as they stared up at the various scenes depicting vast armies of men in battle with a sky full of waring dragons.

    In fact, dragons seemed to be the theme of the room. Each of the six pillars looked like a dragon¡¯s head breathing fire at the ceiling and at the back of the room there were two huge stone doors, reaching to the ceiling and decorated with the images of five impressive looking dragons, three on each door. The dragons on the doors were interesting though because five of the six had large crystals in their eye sockets which were glowing an eerie red.

    ¡°Do you think they¡¯re rubies?¡± asked Evan rubbing his hands together.

    ¡°Worth big gold,¡± added Lem.

    ¡°Rubies don¡¯t usually glow,¡± said Arahn. ¡°Whoa, what?¡±

    As they watched, the clear crystal eyes of the sixth dragon bled red.

    ¡°Magic,¡± growled Morvar as though the word was a slur.

    ¡°Oh definitely,¡± said Calan¡¯dal having finally joined them in the room. He limped over to them as fast as he could, grinning up at the stone door. ¡°And it would seem my hunch was correct after all.¡±

    Before anyone could ask what he meant there was a great explosion of sound, of rocks grinding against each other. Then the massive doors started to move outwards and the group had to scramble backwards out of the way. When they finally came to a stop fully open, Cathran rounded on the elf.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she demanded.

    Calan¡¯dal laughed. ¡°Simple really, we have enough people to enter!¡±

    ¡°What on Alvis are you talking about?¡±

    ¡°When I first discovered the entrance I came down here alone and only one of the dragon¡¯s eyes were lit. I didn¡¯t think much of it until I started planning a full expedition and brought someone with me to help carry some supplies. When we entered the room together I noticed that two sets of eyes were lit.¡±

    ¡°So with six dragons you figured you needed to come down here with at least six people?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°Exactly!¡± said Calan¡¯dal sounding giddy as a school boy. ¡°And here you are and here these doors are finally open, so it worked!¡±

    ¡°You said you had supplies?¡± growled Morvar.

    ¡°Oh yes,¡± said Clana¡¯dal as though he¡¯d forgotten. ¡°Over there.¡±

    In the centre of the four pillars closest to the stairs was a large wooden chest, and a number of leather backpacks and satchels. Calan¡¯dal limped over to the chest and wretched open the creaking lid. It was full of weapons of all sizes, shapes and styles.

    ¡°There¡¯s enough here for fifty people,¡± said Cathran.

    ¡°Well I didn¡¯t know what my eventual teammates would need,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°So I bought these second-hand at auction. Got them for a steal too! So feel free to take whatever you want.¡±

    The twins were the first to select their weapons but that was only because there was little for them to choose from. They were too small for much of what was there to be practical. Eventually Morvar managed to dig them out a pair of stiletto daggers, which may as well have been full swords in their small hands. For himself the troll chose a long and heavy, two-handed flanged mace, which he held easily in only one hand.

    ¡°I thought you¡¯d go for the axes to be honest,¡± Calan¡¯dal commented, watching Morvar take a few practice swings with it.

    ¡°Breaking skulls is more fun,¡± said the troll darkly, fixing the elf with a steady gaze.

    ¡°Oh I imagine so,¡± Calan¡¯dal replied.

    There were so many different kinds of weapons in the chest that Arahn felt a little overwhelmed. Maces, axes, spears, hammers, several different kinds of swords, how was he supposed to choose? Especially when he didn¡¯t have any combat experience and had no idea how to properly use any of them.

    Eventually Morvar pulled a short sword from the chest and thrust it into Arahn¡¯s hands. ¡°Here,¡± he grunted. ¡°Sharp end goes in the bad guy.¡±

    ¡°Yeah thanks,¡± replied Arahn, unable to help the sarcasm in his tone, though he immediately regretted it when the troll raised an eyebrow in his direction.

    ¡°I want this,¡± said Cathran suddenly. She¡¯d pulled an elegant looking short bow from somewhere near the bottom of the chest and was still rooting around looking for quiver and arrows.

    ¡°Oh that one!¡± said Calan¡¯dal eagerly. ¡°That one¡¯s interesting. Came as the featured weapon for the auction lot.¡±

    ¡°Featured?¡± asked Evan.

    ¡°Mmm, each lot had at least one decent thing in it, you know, to encourage you to bid on the rest of the rubbish they were trying to unload. Go on, pull back on the string and see what happens.¡±

    Cathran held up the bow, aiming away from the rest of the group just in case and pulled back as though she had an arrow nocked. After a moment there was a ripple of light from the white diamond shaped crystal set just above the grip. The light travelled along the wood and through the string until it coalesced near Cathran¡¯s fingers, stretching out into the shape of an arrow. The light pulsed and then scattered into hundreds of little droplets which faded away leaving a solid iron tipped arrow nocked and ready to fire in the bow. Cathran released her hold on the tail and the arrow sailed across the room, hitting the opposite wall and bouncing off.

    ¡°That was quite a shot,¡± said Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°Horse riding and archery were compulsory classes at Laria Academy.¡± said Cathran. ¡°I wasn¡¯t top of my grade or anything but at least I can get the arrow to go in a straight line.¡±

    A sudden excited exclamation made Arahn look down. Bored of their daggers the goblin twins had gotten themselves into one of the leather satchels. Lem had her entire head inside the bag, practically squealing with delight.

    ¡°Don¡¯t eat it all!¡± scolded Calan¡¯dal as the goblin reappeared, tiny fists full of what looked like dried meat jerky.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got food?¡± Morvar roared.

    ¡°Of course I have food,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal unbothered by the troll¡¯s anger. ¡°I said I brought supplies. Go on, go through them. Try not to eat everything.¡±

    ¡°This is very light,¡± mused Cathran mostly to herself when she picked up the bag closest to her. When she opened it though, her eyes widened. ¡°My god!¡±

    ¡°Now I couldn¡¯t get six Neverending Bags,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Which was my original plan, but the price of moonsilk is just ab-surd right now. So instead I got some regular bags and had them enchanted.¡±

    ¡°More magic?¡± Morvar sneered now looking at the bag in his hand with distrust.

    ¡°Yes that¡¯s generally what enchanted means,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal unconcerned. ¡°I was only going to get the big bag done, but the guy at the shop said if I had them all done he¡¯d throw in the adjustable straps for free and seeing as I didn¡¯t know who I¡¯d be able to get at the time, having the bags wearable by anyone seemed like a good deal. They¡¯re all half weight, so if you put a ten pound weight inside, pick it up, it¡¯ll only feel like five pounds. I could have gotten quarter weight but I was starting to sneak out of my price range by that point and I still needed the supplies. I ended up just going to the adventurers¡¯ guild and having them make me a list of things I¡¯d need. I¡¯ve got rations and water skins of course, good for about a week or so if we don¡¯t go crazy, but also sleeping rolls for the six of us, candles and torches, tinderbox, note books and ink for my research, crowbar, soap and washboard, cooking gear, utility knife, and about a hundred feet of rope and climbing gear. Gentleman at the guild was really insistent about the climbing gear. Something tells me he¡¯d had some bad experiences in the past.¡±

    It definitely sounded like Calan¡¯dal had tried to be as prepared for this expedition as he possibly could. Arahn was certainly impressed. So with a magically lightened bag, full to bursting with gear each and their chosen weapons at their sides the group approached the opened doors that led further into the Abyss, nervous but ready to face whatever lay ahead.

 Chapter 7: Vermin

    [Diary Entry To Be Added]

    The room beyond the dragon doors was constructed of the same large square stones, but was much smaller with a single torch burning in a metal bracket and a stone pillar in each corner. There was a single door in the back wall next to one of the pillars.

    In the centre of the room were two rats feeding on what looked like a pile of raw meat. But they weren¡¯t ordinary rats, they were massive, nearly two feet tall even sitting hunched over as they were, their hair mattered and balding in places. At the sound of the group¡¯s approach they raised their furry heads, whiskers twitching in their direction. The creatures sniffed the air a few times before deciding the group wasn¡¯t of interest and returned to their meal.

    ¡°What are they?¡± whispered Cathran, sounding disgusted.

    ¡°Dire rats,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Probably some normal rats, or the descendants thereof who¡¯d come afoul of wild magic or some kind of powerful toxin. You tend to see dire creatures around places of high arcane concentration. Their bites are toxic by the way, so be careful of that. It¡¯s strange, dire creatures are usually driven man and bloodthirsty by their affliction.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t seem interested in us though,¡± said Arahn. ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll attack if we try to walk past them?¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t give them the chance,¡± Morvar growled gripping his mace tightly.

    ¡°Try not to die,¡± said Calan¡¯dal as the troll stalked towards the giant rats.

    Morvar raised his weapon above his head and brought it down on top of one of the creature¡¯s heads. There was a sickening crunch which made Cathran wince, the rat¡¯s body flopping to the side with a soft thump. The other Dire Rat reacted immediately, shrieking and lunging at Morvar who raised his arm to protect his face. The moment the rat tried to sink its teeth into the troll¡¯s rock hard flesh it shrieked in pain and jumped back, leaving Morvar free to strike another deadly blow.

    As the second rat fell lifeless to the stone floor the sound of slow clapping filled the small space. Looking around Arahn noticed movement from a crack in the pillar closest to the door, high up near the ceiling.

    ¡°Well done,¡± came a sarcastic voice once the clapping had faded. ¡°You killed some big rats. You must be so proud!¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Morvar demanded and to Arahn¡¯s surprise the creature moved forward, sticking its red reptilian head through the hole. It grinned with sharp teeth, yellow eyes glinting mischievously. Behind it Arahn could make out the gentle swish of a scaly tail.

    ¡°Kobolds,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, sounding unimpressed. ¡°Dragon wannabees. Ignore the pest and it will go away.¡±

    ¡°Pest!?¡± the kobold squawked offended. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know Miirik is descended from the noble dragon flights! Tch, and after Miirik came all this way baring greetings from his Mistress!¡±

    ¡°Mistress?¡± asked Cathran confused.

    ¡°Ignore it,¡± said Calan¡¯dal dismissively. ¡°Kobolds are delusional, talking to them is useless.¡±

    ¡°What if he knows some secrets of the Abyss?¡± asked Cathran. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better if we had as much information about where we¡¯re going as possible?¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± the elf acquiesced. ¡°Talk to him if you must.¡±

    The girl stepped forward. ¡°Umm, sorry, Miirik did you say your name was?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but Miiriik doesn¡¯t know if Miiriik wants to talk to you anymore,¡± the Kobold said pouting.

    ¡°I just wanted to know who your Mistress was?¡±

    The kobold suddenly brightened at the mention of his Mistress. ¡°Miirik¡¯s Mistress is beautiful and kind!¡± he gushed. ¡°Mistress rules a garden on this floor. Mistress sent Miirk to invite you to come and stay in the garden. There you will be safe and happy in service to the Mistress.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s, very generous of your Mistress,¡± said Cathran carefully. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m sure we¡¯d all love to meet her but first maybe you could tell us what you know about the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°The Abyss?¡±

    ¡°Well you live down here don¡¯t you?¡± she said her tone flattering. ¡°Surely you would be far more knowledgeable than us.¡±

    There was a moment where Miirik looked surprised before he glanced away embarrassed.

    ¡°Well,¡± he said slowly. ¡°Miirik has been travelling these floors a long time before meeting the Mistress.¡±

    ¡°So you can tell us about it then?¡± Cathran asked eagerly.

    ¡°Miirik supposes, if Miirik wants you to live long enough to see the Mistress, then Miirik must tell you what he knows,¡± the kobold nodded to himself several times before clearing his throat. ¡°The Abyss is very big, far bigger than any kobold could cross alone. Miirik sometimes sees surface dwellers that come down here. Miirik doesn¡¯t like to linger, but sometimes he sees them die in terrible ways.¡±

    ¡°So there are monsters down here then?¡± asked Lem. ¡°It¡¯s not just stories?¡±

    ¡°Miirik has seen strange creatures on lower levels,¡± nodded Miirik. ¡°Miirik doesn¡¯t know what they are called, but Miirik tries not to be seen by them. The higher levels don¡¯t have scary monsters in them though. The Masters don¡¯t want you to die too quickly, would be boring.¡±

    ¡°Masters?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal, suddenly interested in the conversation.

    Miirik paused, mouth open as if realising he¡¯d said too much.

    ¡°Please tell us,¡± said Cathran gently. ¡°We really need to know.¡±

    ¡°Well, Miirik has heard it spoken in the lower floors of the Master¡¯s that control the ¡°Mind of the Abyss.¡± Miirik doesn¡¯t know what this means, but the Mistress knows of many things that Miirik does not. If you speak with the Mistress, She may be able to help you.¡±

    ¡°Good, this is good,¡± muttered Calan¡¯dal to himself. ¡°Exactly what I need.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± said Cathran. ¡°When we meet your Mistress we¡¯ll make sure to tell her how helpful you were.¡±

    Miirik¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Miirik is most happy!¡± the kobold cheered. ¡°Miirik will return to the garden and await your arrival.¡± With that he scampered off through a hole in the stonework.

    ¡°So now what?¡± asked Cathran once they were alone again.

    Calan¡¯dal was quiet for some time seemingly lost in thought. ¡°Assuming the thing wasn¡¯t making it all up, what he said matches some of what Lambourne wrote about in his journal. That he suspected there was something, person, mechanism, he wasn¡¯t sure, but something in command of the Abyss. If that¡¯s true¡ª¡°

    ¡°Is that why we¡¯re here?¡± interrupted Morvar. ¡°Is that what you¡¯re after, the thing that controls the Abyss?¡± When Calan¡¯dal didn¡¯t reply the troll took a step forward, towering over the elf, fists clenched. ¡°Figure yourself some grand puppet master, ruling over a magic dungeon or whatever? And what, we¡¯re supposed to die for you to get your crown?¡±

    ¡°You were already going to die,¡± said Calan¡¯dal simply.

    ¡°Hey, should we be talking about this?¡± Arahn cut in when Morvar took another step forward. He wanted to avoid a fight but he was also feeling nervous about the idea that the dungeon was being controlled from the shadows by some unknown person.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°You think we¡¯re being watched?¡± asked Cathran.

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly possible,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°The Kobold¡¯s words suggested the Master¡¯s would be bored if we died too quickly. Maybe they find our struggles entertaining but either way I don¡¯t see how talking about them will make much of a difference. This Mistress, if she exists, seems to have survived with some level of knowledge, so I don¡¯t see why we won¡¯t be able to.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± Morvar growled, fist clenched tight on his mace.

    ¡°I¡¯m not that thrilled either,¡± admitted Calan¡¯dal. ¡°But I¡¯ve spent more than enough time and money getting to this point, I¡¯m not leaving now there¡¯s a chance my goal actually exists.¡±

    Morvar heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. ¡°We¡¯re all going to die for nothing.¡±

    The door to the next room was plain wood and opened revealing a narrow stone corridor barely wider than single file. Morvar moved forward first, Arahn just behind him. They walked slowly just in case and as they walked Cathran took the opportunity to ask Calan¡¯dal about Kobolds.

    ¡°Are they really related to dragons?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Technically yes,¡± the elf replied. ¡°But they¡¯ve inherited none of their ancestor¡¯s strength or magic. They live underground mostly, burrows you know, they¡¯re quite strong diggers. Which is probably the only compliment I can give them.¡±

    ¡°He spoke the common tongue though,¡± said Cathran. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that mean they¡¯re intelligent?¡±

    ¡°Intelligence is relative,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Sure, that one might have been able to pick it up, but most Kobolds are primitive and superstitious. They worship their dragon ancestors and spend their time making graven images to the various Flights at their altars. I¡¯ve heard stories about cannibalism and blood sacrifice, but I¡¯m going to give them the benefit of the doubt and say that¡¯s probably just pro-culling propaganda.¡±

    ¡°How far do you trust Miirik then?¡±

    ¡°Not too far. I¡¯ll see whether or not this Mistress of his even exists first, but Kobolds are a cowardly lot. They¡¯ll gravitate to whoever they think is the biggest bully in the playground but that doesn¡¯t mean they can be trusted for loyalty. They¡¯ll stab you in the back as soon as it¡¯s advantageous for them.¡±

    At the end of the hall there was a sharp left turn and another wooden door. Beside the door was a shiny metal plaque, engraved with neat lettering.

    I move without wings, between silken strings,

    And leave with my bite, a deadly delight.

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Arahn asked leaning around Morvar¡¯s shoulders to read it.

    ¡°A riddle I think,¡± replied Morvar.

    ¡°Why would there be a riddle here?¡± asked Arahn confused.

    ¡°Maybe it¡¯s a warning?¡± Cathran suggested coming up behind them. ¡°The answer¡¯s pretty obvious though so it¡¯s hardly a puzzle.¡±

    ¡°Well?¡± demanded Morvar impatiently.

    ¡°A poisonous bite and silk threads,¡± said Cathran as though both boys were thick. ¡°Spiders.¡±

    ¡°Oh great, well that just sounds fantastic,¡± Evan piped up from somewhere around Arahn¡¯s hip, sarcasm thick on his lips. ¡°Your supplies include poison cure?¡±

    ¡°Sadly not,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°I have a basic med kit for emergencies, cuts and sprains, what-have-you, but no medicine.¡±

    ¡°Yeah because who needs medicine right?¡± said Morvar sarcastically.

    ¡°The premixed vials were expensive and probably would have expired by the time we needed them,¡± defended Calan¡¯dal. ¡°I brought a herbalism kit instead.¡± The elf looked expectantly at Cathran who paled.

    ¡°Well I, I mean I was only living with her for a little while, she didn¡¯t really have time to show me more than the absolute basics.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± Morvar grunted, the roll of his eyes audible in his voice. ¡°Can¡¯t poison a rock.¡±

    He pushed open the door slowly, expecting at any second for many legged creatures to lunge at him. But nothing did. Stepping through, the group was met with a blank wall and a 90 degree turn to either side.

    ¡°Left or right?¡± Arahn asked looking up the hallway in both directions. There seemed to be a room at each end, but with no hanging torches the contents of the rooms were marred in gloom.

    ¡°Start with right,¡± said Morvar stepping down the hall. ¡°If it¡¯s a dead end we¡¯ll go left.¡±

    Together they inched up the corridor, Morvar in front, mace raised and at the ready. Edging into the small room at the end the troll let out a surprised grunt making Arahn tense excepting an attack.

    ¡°Spider web,¡± Morvar explained pulling the thick strands from his face.

    The whole room was draped in webbing but much of it was torn, hanging limply from the walls and ceiling. Walking forward, they noticed the bodies of two wolf-sized spiders, legs curled and stiff in death.

    ¡°Looks like someone got here before us,¡± noted Arahn.

    ¡°Looks like it,¡± Morvar agreed before turning and shouting back up the hallway. ¡°This one¡¯s clear!¡±

    The others joined them, Calan¡¯dal bending over to examine the bodies, while Evan and Lem scampered about peering into corners.

    ¡°Looks like they¡¯ve been dead for a while,¡± Calan¡¯dal noted poking them with the end of his staff. ¡°What remains is only their shell, the blood and soft flesh are long gone.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think spiders had shells,¡± Cathran mused absently to which Calan¡¯dal nodded.

    ¡°You¡¯re average spider doesn¡¯t but to grow this large without an internal skeleton they need shells,¡± he explained. ¡°Think of them less like a traditional spider and more like a large venomous crab with eight legs.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Lem announced suddenly. ¡°We¡¯ve got corpses over here.¡±

    ¡°Ooh,¡± said Calan¡¯dal interested, moving over to where the goblin twins had uncovered two humanoid skeletons among the webbing.

    They were adult human size, the bones of their bodies mostly clean but hair and dried flesh stubbornly clung in some places. The pair wore faded leather jerkins, threadbare cloth pants and heavy leather boots. At their waists were rusted iron weapons that had seen much better days. One had a pair of small daggers, the other a short sword and a broken wooden shield. The skeleton with the sword had a small cloth satchel slung over its bony shoulder.

    ¡°Score!¡± Evan cried enthusiastically grabbing the bag and starting to rifle through its contents.

    ¡°Oh great, now we¡¯re robbing the dead,¡± said Cathran sounding appalled.

    ¡°And what good are material things to a corpse?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°Yeah whatever, it¡¯s not like I can stop you.¡±

    ¡°Well then, if they fit, maybe Arahn and Cathran would appreciate some shoes?¡± the elf suggested.

    ¡°Umm, eww?¡± said Cathran but took the dusty boots anyway when they were passed to her.

    Both pairs were slightly too big on their new owners but it was a great improvement over walking barefoot across stone floors.

    ¡°Jackpot!¡± squealed Evan suddenly holding up a small leather bundle he¡¯d pulled from the satchel. Unfolding it revealed a collection of metal instruments held to the soft leather with small cloth loops. ¡°Lock picks! They¡¯re a bit old, but they were wrapped so they¡¯re not rusted through yet.¡±

    ¡°You expect to be picking a lot of locks do you?¡± Arahn asked as he tied the thin laces of his boots. It felt a little strange to be wearing a dead man¡¯s shoes but beggars certainly couldn¡¯t be choosers.

    ¡°Never know what you¡¯ll find,¡± said Evan putting the bundle in his backpack.

    Leaving the corpses behind they filed back out into the hallway, Morvar and Arahn once more in the lead. Together they edged back down the corridor and into the other room which was similarly draped with spider webs. The webs here seemed fresher though, not as torn but the room looked just as empty.

    ¡°It¡¯s clear!¡± Arahn called back down the corridor.

    Moments later the goblin twins scampered eagerly into the room, followed eventually by Calan¡¯dal and Cathran. As soon as the last of them crossed the threshold, the air around them erupted into hisses and clicks as the spiders which had, up until that point, been hiding themselves in the high ceiling¡¯s dark corners began to move.

    There were dozens of them, descending from the webbed ceiling on shimmering threads, their mandibles clicking and large fangs dripping with venom. Cathran let out a frighten gasp while Arahn moved to stand in front of her nervously drawing his sword.

    One spider dropped, landing on Morvar and attempted to take a bite. Its fangs broke off on the troll¡¯s hard skin, but the sudden weight falling on his shoulders made the man stagger. He reached back and grabbed the nearest leg, wrenching it off him and slamming it onto the floor. He followed up with a swing from his mace with shattered the spider-crab¡¯s shell with a wet crunch. The creature kicked futilely in the throes of death before going still.

    Far from being intimidated by the sudden death of one of their compatriots, the rest of the spiders clicked furiously and began swarming more quickly down from the webbed ceiling.

    ¡°There are too many,¡± Morvar grunted backing up slowly, his free arm out guiding the others to move back into the hallway.

    With a sharp hiss and click, three of the giant spiders dropped from the webbing right between them and the door.

    ¡°We¡¯re trapped!¡± exclaimed Evan his usually permanent grin nowhere to be found.

    ¡°It seems like I have no choice then,¡± said Calan¡¯dal with an irritated sigh before raising his staff.

    Morvar flinched as the grooves along its surface glowed with deep red light. A second later there was a flash, then Calan¡¯dal¡¯s wrinkled hands were full of matching coloured fire. The flames exploded outward, filling the room and reducing the webbing to ash in an instant. The spiders shrieked and clicked in agony as their flesh boiled inside their shells. In minutes the group found themselves standing in a pile of charred remains.

    ¡°That was amazing!¡± cried the twins in unison.

    Morvar muttered something under his breath, sounding slightly less grateful.

    Calan¡¯dal swayed on his feet gripping his staff tightly. Breathing heavily he staggered into the wall, leaning against the stones for support.

    Arahn dashed forward to keep the man from collapsing. ¡°Are you alright?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I pulled off a flashy move like that,¡± said Calan¡¯dal slowly his voice trembling. ¡°This old body isn¡¯t as good at casting as it used to be. I need water.¡±

    Cathran fished around in her supplies bag but only came back with empty skins. ¡°You forgot to fill them?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want them leaking on the notebooks,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°A silly thought in hindsight.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll just have to keep going then,¡± said Arahn. ¡°And hope we find water somewhere.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine; I¡¯m just wrecked from the mana loss,¡± said Calan¡¯dal leaning heavily on Arahn, his entire frame shaking.

    Behind the burnt webbing a previously concealed wooden door had been revealed, its surface slightly charred from Calan¡¯dal¡¯s flames. They moved forward, Morvar ever in the lead, pushing it open and going through into the next room. Arahn went next letting Calan¡¯dal lean on him, with Cathran and the twins taking up the rear.

 Chapter 8: Water and Stone

    [Diary Entry To Be Added]

    The door opened up into a large cavern. The small stretch of masoned wall with the door ended after a few short feet blending almost seamlessly into a natural cave wall. Stalactites hung from the ceiling dangling precariously over a large shallow pool that filled about three quarters of the cavernous room.

    ¡°Water,¡± Calan¡¯dal rasped gratefully letting Arahn guide him to the edge, where he sat and plunged his hands into the cool clear liquid bringing it to his lips and drinking eagerly.

    ¡°Convenient,¡± Morvar grunted with a slightly suspicious tone.

    ¡°Here,¡± said Cathran passing a water skin to Arahn before kneeling down to fill the others at the pool.

    ¡°What¡¯s that over there?¡± Lem asked once they had all drunk their fill, pointing across the pool.

    In the centre there was a stone plinth and even at a distance elaborate carvings could be seen on its surface.

    ¡°They appear to be elemental runes,¡± said Calan¡¯dal feeling much better now he gotten some fresh water. ¡°From this distance though, I cannot tell which ones.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know much about magic,¡± Cathran said sitting down beside the pool. ¡°The old woman had started to teach me about plants and their medicinal uses in creating salves and poultices but she never mentioned the arcane or the elemental.¡±

    ¡°I dabbled with casting in my youth,¡± Calan¡¯dal said casually, taking another sip of water. ¡°Most elves do. In the city where I was living at the time, the population was mostly human so there weren¡¯t many schools for magical learning. As a result I¡¯m mostly self-taught which is why my mana pool is so limited.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you became so tired?¡± Cathran asked.

    ¡°That¡¯d be it,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal. ¡°So don¡¯t expect my casting to be a limitless get-out-of-trouble button. I tire with the simplest of spells and my mana takes its sweet time to recover.¡±

    ¡°So,¡± said Cathran hesitantly. ¡°What was that outside, before we entered?¡±

    ¡°Oh, when our friend here tried to leave?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal and the girl nodded. ¡°That wasn¡¯t me necessarily. Contracts have their own magic. As the holder I have some control over it, to make or break for example, but the contract will uphold itself with or without me.¡±

    ¡°So as a regular caster you¡¯re pretty much useless then?¡± Morvar noted a bit sarcastically.

    ¡°Yep, that¡¯s me, pretty useless,¡± agreed Calan¡¯dal cheerfully.

    ¡°Contract or not, his magic did kinda save our lives back there,¡± said Cathran. ¡°You know, those of us who are actually vulnerable to harm? So you¡¯ll excuse me for being grateful.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Magic can be dangerous in the wrong hands and I haven¡¯t exactly done a great job at winning his trust. Let him grumble in peace.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Cathran said, tough she threw Morvar a disapproving look regardless.

    ¡°You want to start something woman?¡± the troll growled, towering over Cathran¡¯s slender form.

    ¡°Come on guys,¡± said Arahn hesitantly. ¡°Let¡¯s not fight amongst ourselves. We¡¯re all we¡¯ve got down here.¡±

    Cathran swallowed nervously and glanced away just as Morvar made a frustrated noise and clomped off to get some space between them. Arahn let out a nervous breath.

    ¡°You alright?¡± he asked Cathran who nodded after a moment.

    ¡°Yeah, I just, I don¡¯t know what I was thinking.¡±

    ¡°What made you so mad?¡±

    ¡°Oh I dunno, I just really hate spiders, you know and I just thought ¡®This is it, this is where I¡¯m going to die.¡¯ And then we didn¡¯t and I was so relieved¡­¡± she trailed off then scoffed loudly. ¡°If you ask me he¡¯s just jealous ¡®cause an old man saved us when he couldn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t need a coward¡¯s magic tricks,¡± Morvar growled darkly from a distance away.

    ¡°Oh I know,¡± assured Calan¡¯dal brightly. ¡°But you will forgive an old man for needing more than just his muscles for protection.¡±

    Morvar grunted but didn¡¯t reply.

    An uncomfortable silence descended on the party until finally Cathran spoke up.

    ¡°So where now?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Umm, I think we should take some time to recover,¡± said Arahn seriously glad for the change in topic. ¡°This place seems safe enough, maybe we should grab a quick rest.¡±

    He looked to Calan¡¯dal who nodded. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say no to a nap.¡±

    They spread out each finding their own corner of stone floor to lay their bedrolls. The goblin twins fell asleep pretty quickly, huddled together in a pile for warmth. Not too far away Morvar sat leaning against the stone brick wall, arms crossed loosely over his ches. He hadn¡¯t bothered with a bedroll or blanket, not seeming to be bothered my the cool air of the cavern. Arahn helped Calan¡¯dal get comfortable before lying down himself at the elf¡¯s back. The bedroll wasn¡¯t much, but it muffled the cold of the stone floor just enough to allow him to grow drowsy.

    ¡°Cathran?¡± he mumbled softly as the gril tiptoed passed him to sit down at the water¡¯s edge. ¡°You should sleep.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not tired yet,¡± she replied just loud enough for him to catch her words. ¡°I¡¯ll sleep later.¡±

    ¡°Alright then,¡± agreed Arahn, before rolling over and letting himself drift off.

    When Arahn woke a few hours later Cathran was still sitting at the edge of the pool looking out across the water. She had her arms wrapped around her knees and seemed lost in thought. Arahn got up and approached, sitting down beside her.

    ¡°Hey,¡± he greeted softly. ¡°You still can¡¯t sleep?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± she replied. ¡°I think my sleep schedule is out of whack.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not surprised,¡± Arahn agreed. ¡°You can¡¯t tell what time it is down here. For all we know it¡¯s still the middle of the day.¡±

    ¡°Hmm,¡± replied Cathran still staring across the room. Arahn followed her gaze to the engraved plinth rising up out of the water. ¡°I was thinking of going over and seeing what it was. The water isn¡¯t very deep and I can swim well enough.¡±

    ¡°It might be nothing,¡± Arahn pointed out.

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Cathran agreed though it didn¡¯t seem to discourage her. ¡°But I feel like if it was put there, then it must be something. Maybe there¡¯s something on it or in it, something we can¡¯t see from here.¡±

    ¡°I see your logic,¡± agreed Arahn. ¡°But considering where we are, it could be something terrible.¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t know unless we check,¡± said Cathran standing up.

    ¡°I really don¡¯t think this is a good idea,¡± said Arahn catching her elbow. ¡°Maybe we should wake the others? Maybe Morvar can¡­¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want him,¡± Cathran objected shaking off Arahn¡¯s hand. ¡°I can get over there without his help.¡±

    Cathran waded into the shallow water shivering slightly from the cold, the water coming up her middle. She reached the small island and pulled herself up onto the plinth. Standing she was taller than the carved stone, able to look down and see what it contained.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°What is it?¡± called Arahn curiosity getting the better of him.

    ¡°Water,¡± Cathran replied. ¡°But it¡¯s the clearest I¡¯ve ever seen. It¡¯s almost like, it¡¯s glowing.¡±

    Cathran stared into the water¡¯s depths, seemingly mesmerised by its contents. The water in the font was crystal clear and yet at the same time it appeared to be filled with billions of sparkling dots, as though the surface of the liquid were a window to the heavens. Her hand, almost as if without her knowledge went to the water skin at her hip. She emptied out the pools water and filled it with what was in the font.

    The moment she did so the dark water around her erupted in a flurry of activity as creatures the size of large dogs started crawling up the rock towards her. They had wet scaly bodies the colour of dead flesh and long writhing tentacles for legs. Their snouted faces were split into wide grins full of jagged teeth that looked almost too big for their mouths. They carried sharp spears made of bone in their clawed, webbed hands.

    Cathran¡¯s scream of fright woke the rest of the party who were at Arahn¡¯s side at the water¡¯s edge in moments.

    ¡°What is she doing?¡± Lem demanded terrified, long fingers buried in her bushy hair.

    ¡°Stupid girl,¡± Morvar grunted, picking up his mace and heading for the water¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Calan¡¯dal exclaimed. ¡°Don¡¯t enter the water, there will be more below!¡±

    ¡°What are those things?¡± added her brother.

    ¡°Grindylows,¡± explained the elf. ¡°Savage creatures. They swarm people wading in the shallows and pull them down into deeper water to kill them.¡±

    ¡°Well if you can figure out a way to magic them away go ahead,¡± the troll snarled, wading into the water. ¡°Until then, I¡¯m going to actually do something!

    Morvar plunged his free hand beneath the surface of the water and pulled back, fingers wrapped around the throat of a squirming creature.

    ¡°Where did they come from?¡± Arahn asked.

    The creature in Morvar¡¯s grip thrashed, wrapping long tentacles around the troll¡¯s wrist. Though they didn¡¯t have the strength to crush his stony flesh, the slime its tentacles were leaving behind was sending and acrid smell into the air.

    ¡°How they got here ain¡¯t the problem!¡± Evan snapped before leaping from the shore to Morvar¡¯s back and pulling out his dagger.

    He climbed nimbly over the troll¡¯s shoulder and down his arm before plunging the sharp weapon tip into the grindylow¡¯s soft belly. Morvar grunted in appreciation shaking off the limp creature. Where its tentacles had been there was long raised lines on the troll¡¯s skin.

    Freed from the creature¡¯s grip Morvar crossed the pool, the water barely reaching his waist while Evan rode on his shoulder, dagger raised and at the ready. They reached the small island in moments, descending on the group of attacking beasts with fist, mace and steel. Morvar ripped a squirming creature from where it had wrapped around Cathran¡¯s arm, trying to drag her off the rock and into the water. Several grindylows lunged at his arm in order to reach their friend, while several others went to his armed hand. Even from the shore Arahn could smell something burning as whatever poison the grindylow¡¯s had in their tentacles burnt into Morvar¡¯s wrist.

    The troll roared in pain this time and the chunk of metal flew from his hand to disappear beneath the surface of the water. Enraged by the attack and the loss of his weapon, Morvar lashed out with both fists tossing failing bodies against the rocks and back into the water.

    At the sudden display of ferocity and the downing of many of their allies, the remaining grindylows paused. With hisses and bared teeth they slowly fell back into the water, their narrowed eyes glaring furious at having their prey stolen. Morvar wrapped one massive hand around Cathran¡¯s thin waist and tossing her over his broad shoulder, before wading back through the pool to the shore. Thankfully this time it seemed the grindylow¡¯s had learnt not to risk it and did not attack again.

    ¡°What were you thinking!?¡± roared Morvar letting Cathran fall from his shoulder to hit the ground with a gentle thump. ¡°Stupid woman!¡±

    Calan¡¯dal knelt down next to her and quickly checked her over for injury. She had the same marks on her wrist that Morvar did, so he washed the remaining grindylow slime off with some water.

    ¡°It¡¯s not poisonous is it?¡± asked Arahn concerned.

    ¡°Well, I mean yes obviously it¡¯s not good for you,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°But it¡¯s more of a shock than anything. It makes the muscles seize, you know, to stop you being able to fight back. More effective on small children. Keep the welt clean and they¡¯ll go down in a few days.¡±

    Cathran sniffed loudly her eyes welling up with tears. Now that she was back on solid ground and the shock was wearing off, the realisation of what had happened was starting to sink in.

    ¡°I¡­I¡­¡± she stammered hiccupping slightly around her tears.

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot is what you are!¡± interrupted Lem, her high pitched voice cracking with stress. ¡°You trying to get yourself killed!?¡±

    ¡°Hold on,¡± Arahn protested. ¡°I don¡¯t think this was her fault.¡±

    ¡°Come on!¡± scoffed Evan.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± the human insisted. ¡°The way she was looking at it¡­ she couldn¡¯t sleep.¡±

    ¡°You think she was enthralled?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal, then elaborated when Arahn looked confused. ¡°That some magical force was compelling her to act, to go out into the water?¡±

    Morvar gave a growling grunt of displeasure before stomping off.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal slowly.

    ¡°Sore, but ok I guess,¡± said Cathran. ¡°I¡¯ve gone and made him mad at me again though.¡±

    ¡°Oh don¡¯t mind him,¡± dismissed Calan¡¯dal. ¡°He¡¯ll be fine. What did you take from the island?¡±

    Cathran took the water skin from her hip. ¡°There was this bowl of water, but it was so clear. It felt like I had to take it.¡±

    ¡°Did it look different from regular water?¡± Calan¡¯dal asked now getting very curious.

    ¡°It glittered, not like there were things in the water but, but like each drop was filled with stars¡­ it was beautiful.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what it is?¡± Arahn asked Calan¡¯dal who hummed in thought for a moment.

    ¡°Ooh, there¡¯s a bunch of things it could be, but I couldn¡¯t say unless I went over and looked at it closely.¡±

    ¡°If you do I¡¯m not coming after you,¡± growled Morvar tersely.

    ¡°Well obviously,¡± Calan¡¯dal agreed readily. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I have no intention of having any of us cross the pool again.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you check out the stuff she already took?¡± Evan asked pointing at the water skin.

    ¡°Well, I wouldn¡¯t be able to tell much unless I poured it out and then we would have wasted it,¡± Calan¡¯dal explained, not missing the way Cathran unconsciously held the skin tighter at the suggestion of throwing it away.

    ¡°What should we do with it then?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°Oh, I think it¡¯s safe enough where it is,¡± Calan¡¯dal assured. ¡°I don¡¯t think we need to worry about it if we¡¯re careful.¡±

    ¡°We should move on,¡± said Morvar after a beat of silence.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± agreed Calan¡¯dal, thankful for the change of subject. ¡°We¡¯re not safe here as long as there are grindylows. They¡¯re water dwellers but they have been known to crawl to shore in the past after a meal.¡±

    Around the edge of the pool there was a thin rocky path which connected the door they¡¯d come in from and another similar one on the opposite side of the small cavern room. They walked around the pool, Morvar in the front as usual but this time Cathran hung back at the end of the line, as though she was trying to avoid him.

    The door opened onto a bare stretch of corridor with no windows, doors or any decorations except that every few bricks along the wall at head height glowed like lamps. The hallway was about 20ft in length and turned left at the far end. From the entrance to the hallway they could see a little passed the turn, including another wall indicating the passage doubled back on itself.

    As they walked down the hallway Lem came to a sudden stop nearly tripping Arahn over.

    ¡°Wait!¡± she cried urgently thrusting her hand as high as she could to stop them moving around the corner. ¡°I can hear something.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Morvar grunted, frozen in the motion of stepping around the wall.

    ¡°I can¡¯t, it¡¯s¡ª¡± she paused eyes closed, bat ears twitching. ¡°I can hear, wood creaking under tension.¡± Lem¡¯s eyes snapped open. ¡°Bows! I can hear bows being drawn.¡±

    ¡°Archers,¡± summed Calan¡¯dal with a grim nod. ¡°Waiting for us to move into the other hallway then¡­¡± he trailed off.

    ¡°Can you tell exactly where they¡¯re standing?¡± asked Morvar his voice serious.

    ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± said Lem slowly stepping backwards along the wall ear pressed against the cold stone, listening hard. She repeated this several times moving up and down the expanse of wall, face screwed up in concentration before finally coming to rest a few feet from the door. ¡°Here. The archer is standing here.¡± Morvar nodded and motioned to them.

    ¡°Stand back,¡± he ordered and when they had obeyed he moved to the opposite wall.

    Hunching slightly he faced one broad shoulder at the stone bricks then, like a ball shot from a cannon he surged forward. There was an explosion of stone and dust, followed by Morvar¡¯s roar and a snapping sound from behind the massive gash the jotun had torn in the wall. As the dust settled Arahn edged closer to the hole, grip tight on his sword. He could make out Morvar¡¯s towering form holding something in one hand before letting it fall with a thump to the floor.

    ¡°Morvar?¡± Arahn ventured stepping over the rubble.

    ¡°It¡¯s clear,¡± the troll responded, the twins clambering through the broken wall almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

    They stood in the hallway curiously staring at the body on the ground. It appeared human and had a woman¡¯s figure. Its skin was pale grey and shiny, like polished stone, hair and clothes appeared to be carved from the finest marble. It lay stiffly and there were cracks around her neck and shoulders where Morvar had struck her.

    ¡°What is it?¡± asked Lem.

    Calan¡¯dal nudged the stone woman a few times with his staff, before pursing his lips. ¡°She¡¯s very well made.¡±

    ¡°Well made?¡± said Arahn. ¡°Something made her?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal. ¡°If I¡¯m right, and you know I usually am, then she¡¯s a kind of stone golem.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a golem?¡± asked Evan.

    ¡°Constructed life forms,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Built from different materials, in this case carved from stone, then given the illusion of life through some arcane process.¡±

    ¡°Typical magi,¡± snorted Morvar. ¡°Always trying to play god.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine making something like this would be easy,¡± said Arahn.

    ¡°Oh definitely not,¡± agreed Calan¡¯dal. ¡°We¡¯re talking a serious long term investment, both in raw materials and the energy spent during the animation process.¡±

    ¡°Do you think there will be any more of these stone golems?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°Can you hear any more?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal directing his question at the twins.

    The pair of goblins walked back along the hallway they¡¯d bypassed by smashing a hole in the wall, ears pressed against the stone. After a moment Lem pulled away and nodded.

    ¡°There¡¯s another one here,¡± she said patting a hand against the wall.

    ¡°This hallway must snake back on itself, with a golem guarding every corner,¡± summed Cathran. ¡°I wonder how many there are?¡±

    Morvar raised his hands with a serious expression and punched his own palm.

    ¡°We¡¯ll find out soon enough,¡± he said with a grimace.

 Chapter 9: Hidden Treasure and Deadly Traps

    [Diary Entry To Be Added]

    An hour later and with five more holes ripped in the stonework, the group finally found themselves at the other side of the weird zigzag hallway. Another wooden door greeted them past the final bend, behind them a trail of limp bodies had been left in Morvar¡¯s wake.

    Wary of another ranged trap the party lined themselves up alongside the wall nearest to the door, before Morvar tossed it open and ducked back. After a minute of silence Lem crept forward to quickly glance through the doorway, hoping her smaller body would be a harder target if there was something in the next room. But all she saw was a bare, single file corridor.

    Fist and sword at the ready Morvar and Arahn took the lead with the twins behind them. They egded slowly up the hall with Calan¡¯dal and Cathran once more taking up the rear. About halfway up Cathran dropped back, then stopped completely, staring down at her feet with a puzzled expression.

    ¡°Something wrong?¡± Calan¡¯dal asked, glancing back when he realised the girl was no longer behind him.

    ¡°I can,¡± she hesitated uncertainly. ¡°I can feel a draft, my ankles are cold.¡±

    ¡°A draft?¡± repeated Calan¡¯dal raising his voice slightly to catch the attention of the others.

    The twins doubled back, immediately excited about the prospect of secrets. They scampered around Cathran¡¯s ankles tapping around on the floor and walls. By the time Arahn joined them, Morvar clomping along behind him, Lem had discovered a thin gap under the left wall about two feet long.

    ¡°Hidden door?¡± Morvar grunted. ¡°Want me to take care of it?¡±

    ¡°Actually,¡± said Calan¡¯dal thoughtfully examining the stretch of stone. ¡°That may not be necessary.¡±

    The others watched as the older man ran his hands over the bricks, nudging them carefully before finally pushing one in a few inches. There was a sound of old rope running through some creaking pulleys before a 1ft high by 2ft wide section of the wall slid away as though a large hinge at the top had pulled it up into the ceiling.

    ¡°Oh yeah, we can definitely fit through there,¡± Cathran said sarcastically, leaning down to try and see through the hole, while the twins grinned at each other.

    Evan mimed snapping some suspenders before walking forward. ¡°Step aside milady,¡± he said sounding extremely pleased with himself. ¡°I believe my sister and I can take things from here.¡±

    ¡°Be careful,¡± Arahn warned as the two goblins crawled through the hole, their small forms making a task that would have been impossible for any of the others look easy.

    On the other side of the hole was a short passage only a few feet in length with a low ceiling. Sitting innocently at the end was a large wooden chest, with a rusting iron lock keeping the latch closed.

    ¡°Oooh!¡± exclaimed Evan excitedly. ¡°This looks like a job for¡­¡± He pulled the lockpick set out of his bag. ¡°Some thieves!¡±

    ¡°What are you doing in there?¡± asked Cathran practically getting down on all four as she tried to see what was going on.

    ¡°Lockpicking!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about him,¡± said Calan¡¯dal with a laugh. ¡°Goblin¡¯s get excited about this kind of thing.¡±

    While Evan unpacked the lockpicks, Lem checked around the chest for traps. Treasure-loving though she was, a big chest like this being left out in the open, secret door notwithstanding, didn¡¯t sit right with her. A short length of rope had been threaded through a hole in the floor and into the side of the chest. Looking closely at the angle of the rope, she could only assume that it was connected to the inside of the lid, so that the rope would be pulled when the lid was lifted.

    She held out a hand to pause Evan¡¯s enthusiastic approach while unsheathing her dagger. Standing back far enough that she and her brother could dash back out the hole should something go wrong Lem sliced through the rope with the tip of the dagger. Breath caught and expecting the rope to be yanked away and for a trap to spring, it was almost a disappointment when it dropped limply to the floor. After a moment¡¯s silence just to be sure, she dropped her hand and nodded to Evan who strode forward confidently miming rolling up his sleeves.

    Lockpick in hand Evan knelt down before the lock and began to ply his trade. The outside of the device had rusted quite badly but luckily the inner mechanism seemed to be turning well enough if given a little bit of encouragement. Evan took his time with the tumblers as, unlike his usual jobs there wasn¡¯t the time constraint of knowing the house owner would soon be returning, but even so it was only a few minutes later that there was the encouraging click of the lock opening.

    Evan stood and dusted off his knees as his sister moved forward to give him a hand with the heavy lid, the sound of creaking hinges carrying out into the hallway.

    ¡°What have you found?¡± Calan¡¯dal called through the hole.

    ¡°Do you need some help?¡± added Arahn.

    ¡°It¡¯s treasure!¡± Evan called back with an enthusiastic squeak in his voice.

    The chest was a great deal shallower than its size might have suggested. Lem at first thought it might have a fake bottom but a few gentle knocks revealed the wood to be solid. There was however several things stored inside. There was a small velvet bag that rattled when Evan picked it up and when he tipped it up into his hand a set of beautifully carved tigers-eye dice rolled out. Next to the bag was a satin lined wooden box which contained a set of four crystal flasks in different shapes, cuboid, cylindrical, triangular and spherical. Lem held one up carefully and the crystal glass was so finely blown that it seemed to sparkle. Terrified of breaking it she returned it to its box and closed the lid. Alongside these was a stack of three yellow candles bound with string, some blank parchment scrolls and a small coin purse that barely jingled when shook.

    Treasures carefully in hand the twins moved back out into the passage to show the others.

    ¡°Alchemical flasks,¡± said Calan¡¯dal peering into the box when it was handed to him. ¡°And by the looks of the craftsmanship they¡¯d be worth a pretty crown.¡±

    ¡°I thought dice were square,¡± commented Evan as Morvar rolled the small collection of dice around his large palm.

    ¡°Six sided dice are square,¡± said Arahn helping Cathran to store the wooden box carefully in her bag. ¡°But sometimes you need more sides. They¡¯re a really nice set though.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Was there anything else in there?¡± Cathran asked curious.

    ¡°Just these,¡± said Lem holding up the candles and paper. ¡°I grabbed everything but, I dunno if we really need these.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take them,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, holding one of his pounces open for the goblin girl to drop them inside. ¡°You never know with these things after all.¡±

    Morvar handed the dice back to Cathran, just as Evan finished counting the coins in the purse.

    ¡°We have a total of three silver crowns and eight copper crowns,¡± he announced tilting his hand to let them fall back into the bag with a jangling sound.

    ¡°Not much, about enough for lunch,¡± Cathran noted. ¡°Are we splitting it?¡±

    ¡°Leave it together for now,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°If we fine more it¡¯ll be good to keep it all in the one place.¡±

    ¡°Either way, when the jobs over, drinks on the house!¡± cheered Evan.

    ¡°Yeah, I can get behind that,¡± said Morvar his tone a little softer than usual, to which both twins grinned broadly.

    With everything the goblins had found split between their magically lightened bags the party returned to their path, taking the length of the corridor slowly and carefully now that the idea of hidden rooms and secrets was firmly in their minds.

    Soon enough the small passage widened into a corridor fit for at least four or five to walk comfortably abreast. Another wide hall split off at a 90o degree angle to the left. The walls here were neatly arranged cobbles as opposed to the bricks of previous rooms, though the floor was paved with large light and dark grey square slabs, arranged in an alternating checkerboard pattern.

    Straight ahead of them they could see the opposite cobbled wall disappearing around a left hand turn and looking down the left hall, showed a turn to the right. If one leant sideways a little, while looking up the hall straight ahead, they could see where the far wall broke into another thinner corridor.

    ¡°Looks like this room is a hollow square,¡± Calan¡¯dal noted after looking up and down each hall a couple of times. ¡°These two passages turn towards each other, so I assume they must meet in the opposite corner.¡±

    ¡°So regardless of which way we go we¡¯ll end up at the same place?¡± asked Arahn stepping into the room. ¡°So let¡¯s just take the one straight ahead then, we can see the exit from here.¡±

    Feeling confident Arahn walked forwards but as his foot stepped down into the space beyond where the halls first met, the paver depressed slightly under his weight, a whirling clicking sound of gears rising from beneath the floor. Morvar¡¯s hand lashed out, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him backwards. The square he¡¯d been standing on erupted with long spikes, the tips of which just barely caught the hem of his pants, ripping through the cloth with ease.

    Arahn landed with a thump at Morvar¡¯s feet staring wide-eyed as the spikes slowly retracted back underground, an ominous clunk indicating that the trap has been reset.

    ¡°Not that way then,¡± Cathran commented as Arahn pulled himself to his feet.

    ¡°There must be a safe path,¡± Calan¡¯dal mused looking up and down the corridor again. ¡°OK, we¡¯re standing here, so the space just inside the door is safe. The trap didn¡¯t trigger until you stepped on a square passed the corner, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, around there,¡± Arahn pointed to the row of stone tiles level with the square room¡¯s central pillar.

    ¡°So there¡¯s a few possibilities here if you¡¯ll let me bounce my noggin off the wall for a bit?¡±

    ¡°Sure, why not?¡± said Morvar, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the wall. ¡°We¡¯ve got nowhere to be.¡±

    ¡°Possibility one,¡± said Clana¡¯dal, clearly unconcerned by Morvar sarcasm. ¡°Not all the plates on the floor are trapped and there¡¯s some pattern to passing safely through the corridor. Two: All the plates are trapped in the hallway straight ahead in order to encourage us to take the other hallway. Three: The entire room is trapped and we¡¯re just expected to figure out a way through regardless. Perhaps someone fast enough could get through, or maybe there¡¯s some mechanism we missed that will turn it off, etc.¡±

    ¡°Which one¡¯s most likely?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± mused Calan¡¯dal rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ¡°Either option one or two I would say. It doesn¡¯t seem like it would be that entertaining watching someone faff around trying to find a button they missed somewhere, unless they were hoping we¡¯d just give up and leave. Which, again, doesn¡¯t seem like it would be very satisfying to the puzzle maker.¡±

    ¡°Are we running on the assumption now that there is someone out there controlling all this?¡± asked Cathran.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s a good idea to go in assuming there is,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°I find it almost impossible to believe that what we¡¯ve seen so far is the result of random chance. Even if magic is involved and I think it¡¯s safe to say it is, wild magic could never organise itself in such a way.¡±

    ¡°So this is all a game to someone then?¡± asked Arahn. ¡°Design a space full of monsters and puzzles, and then watch and see how people make it through?¡±

    Calan¡¯dal nodded. ¡°Yes and reward then when they succeed, if the chest the little ones found is anything to go by.¡±

    ¡°Fine, so we try the long way around and see if there¡¯s more traps then?¡± asked Morvar.

    ¡°Very carefully,¡± said Calan¡¯dal.

    After an awkward pause of silence Morvar clomped forward and knelt down next to the first row of pavers in the other hall, using his hand to gently push on each one, one at a time. The troll went slowly row by row, shuffling along the floor until about halfway there he stood satisfied that the hall was safe enough and walked the rest of the way. Encouraged by this the twins scampered boldly after him eventually followed by the others. When they turned the corner however, they came face to face with a bare stretch of wall, blocking their path.

    ¡°Ah,¡± noted Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°Secret door, secret door!¡± the twins chanted excitedly bounding around and pushing at the walls.

    ¡°Do you think there will be one?¡± asked Cathran.

    ¡°I think it¡¯s probably worth looking,¡± replied the elf honestly.

    The old man first examined the wall that blocked their way, then the walls on either side, slowly moving back up the corridor. It did not take him long to find what they were looking for. A gentle push on a suspiciously even group of cobbles caused a thin panel to depress into the wall and then slide away to the side, revealing a wooden lever and a strange shaped hole. The hole was rounded but had eight crooked spikes coming off the centre.

    ¡°It looks a bit like a sun,¡± Cathran commented when Calan¡¯dal moved out of the way to show them. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s a key hole?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put it passed it,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, though he placed a calming hand out at Evan¡¯s excited intake of breath, ¡°Though I get a feeling this one won¡¯t react as well to standard lock picking.¡±

    ¡°Should we try the lever anyway?¡± Arahn asked. ¡°Or do you think it will trigger another trap?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll pull it,¡± Morvar grunted not really enjoying all the secret passages and traps that seemed to have materialised recently. Monsters he could deal with. Monsters could be punched. Puzzles weren¡¯t really his thing. ¡°You get back down the hall.¡±

    ¡°What if something goes wrong?¡± Cathran asked concern in her tone. ¡°What if without the key it does trigger some kind of trap?¡±

    ¡°Then it will happen to me and not you,¡± replied Morvar with a growl, folding his arms over his chest to show he wasn¡¯t budging.

    The elf laid a hand on Cathran¡¯s arm and started tugging her back down the corridor. ¡°No arguing with a troll,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s leave it up to him.¡±

    Once the rest of the party were safely back in the other hall, Morvar flipped the lever. There was a loud grinding sound as the stone that had blocked their way slid slowly aside into the wall. The troll waited a moment to be sure nothing else was going to happen before stepping through the space into the passage ahead. He was able to safely cross the hall and move around the corner to the exit they had glimpsed previously. Satisfied, he called back to the rest of the group.

    ¡°The wall opened, it¡¯s safe.¡±

    Elated whooping accompanied the pattering feet of the twins as they barrelled down the hall and passed Morvar, the other three following behind at a more restrained pace. Together they moved into the final hallway, which was long and once again made of stone bricks. Ahead of them at the very end of the corridor was a tall double width archway through which a soft light was shining. If you listened hard enough the soft calls of song birds could be heard. The attractiveness of this scene was somewhat taken away by a large hole in the left side wall. Several bricks had been taken from the wall near the floor and a dark winding passage had been dug out of the earth behind it.

    ¡°I vote we go the way with the light and pretty sounding birds,¡± said Evan without hesitation.

    ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m not for crawling through a muddy tunnel, thanks,¡± said Cathran.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t the kobold we talked to earlier say that his Mistress had a garden somewhere on this floor?¡± piped up Arahn.

    ¡°That he did,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°I¡¯m curious to see if this Mistress exists and if she does, what she has to say.¡±

    ¡°You think she¡¯ll be able to give us information about the Abyss?¡± Arahn asked hopefully.

    ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± said Calan¡¯dal.

    And so, decision made, the party continued down the corridor, putting the roughly dug hole in the wall into the backs of their minds.

 Chapter 10: The Garden

    Beyond the archway the group could see a beautiful, lush garden. Stepping through Arahn couldn¡¯t help but look around in awe. The large room¡¯s walls were stone brick though the floor beneath their feet was covered in soft grass. Above them, the ceiling seemed to stretch on forever into bright light, almost like the room had its very own private sun. The air was damp and warm, and smelled of spring.

    The ground before them rose into a shallow hill at the top of which stood a large oak tree, so tall that the canopy was too high to see. Above them twittering birds were perched in the great tree¡¯s bows, while red and brown squirrels scampered up and down the trunk looking for dropped seeds.

    A young woman sat at the base of the great tree, reclining against some raised roots. There was an unnatural fae beauty about her that suggested she may be more spirit than mortal. Her body appeared to be carved from polished olive wood, while her hair rustled with leaves all the colours of autumn.

    She looked up as they entered the garden, even though their footsteps were muffled on the fresh grass as they climbed the small hill, she seemed to sense their presence anyway.

    ¡°Welcome to my garden travellers,¡± she greeted, her voice like gentle bird song. ¡°It has been a long while since we¡¯ve had guests.¡±

    The strange woman motioned for them to join her by the gently babbling brook that wound its way around the base of the tree. Little coloured fish splashed their way along its path, eventually disappearing when the little river dipped under the wall on the far side of the room.

    Evan and Lem didn¡¯t take much convincing to flop down tiredly by the river, likely exhausted from their previous encounters and all the running around.

    ¡°You poor things,¡± the woman said gently. ¡°Please, drink and refresh yourselves. You must be so tired.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re grateful for your kind hospitality,¡± Calan¡¯dal said politely. ¡°If I may be so bold, might you be the Mistress the kobold Miirik spoke of?¡±

    ¡°I am indeed her,¡± replied the woman. ¡°I do hope Miirik told you good things about me.¡±

    Though she smiled as she said this an edge had developed in her voice, which prompted Arahn to speak.

    ¡°Miirik spoke very highly of you,¡± he said quickly. ¡°He even suggested you may be able to help us?¡±

    ¡°You are welcome to stay in my garden,¡± said the woman, her demeanour once again friendly.

    ¡°That¡¯s very generous,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°But we were actually hoping for information about the Abyss.¡±

    The woman didn¡¯t reply immediately motioning to her frolicking animal companions. Some of them scattered into the bushes, while others scampered up the tree. They returned with nuts and fresh fruits, which they lay before the party.

    ¡°Please eat, you need something in your bellies,¡± she said kindly, then, as though suspecting they would be wary of any gifted food, took an apple for herself.

    The goblin twins needed no more encouragement after that, pouncing on their fruit pile and making pleased sounds as the juice ran down their chins and fingers. The woman watched them with the smile of a mother watching her children, before turning back to the others.

    ¡°My name is Tansya,¡± she explained. ¡°I am the Dryad of this garden.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never met a Dryad before,¡± said Cathran, sounding awestruck.

    ¡°We¡¯re nature spirits,¡± said Tansya. ¡°Born from trees with particularly high spiritual energy. We are tied to one specific tree for all of our existence, living and dying with our plant.¡± She looked up into the branches of the great tree, a gentle smile on her face. ¡°The trees provide life and sustenance to all those you see around us, and in return we dryads would do anything to protect them from illness or destruction.¡±

    ¡°It really is a beautiful garden,¡± said Cathran. ¡°You must take such good care of it.¡±

    The dryad¡¯s smile was thin and Arahn hurried to break into the conversation and change the subject. ¡°How long have you lived here?¡±

    ¡°Such a long time, though without the true sun I cannot tell you the years,¡± said the dryad. ¡°Sometimes it seems like safety and solace here in my garden is all I can offer the people I encounter.¡±

    ¡°Have there been many people before us?¡± asked Cathran.

    ¡°There have yes,¡± replied the dryad. ¡°Some would stay a while in my garden, but most would move on, their goals elsewhere. I wish more had stayed, I fear what has become of their bodies in the lower levels.¡±

    The dryad trailed off and in the following silence Arahn became more aware of the low humming that had been emanating from above them since their arrival. He searched for the source and looking up began to see dozens of tiny faces peering down at him from amongst the tree¡¯s branches. The creatures looked mostly human, though they were no bigger than a child¡¯s doll, their long arms and legs were out of proportion with the rest of their body with long black claws on the tips of their hands and feet. They had thin, angular faces with sharp chins and pointed ears. Their eyes were huge in comparison to the rest of their face, oval in shape, wide and black, like pools of ink. Behind each one Arahn could see a pair of insect wings beating furiously in order to keep their owner hovering.

    ¡°Faeries?¡± asked Cathran, who¡¯d noticed Arahn looking and followed his gaze.

    ¡°Pixies,¡± said Tansya with barely a glance up.

    ¡°Is there a difference?¡±

    ¡°Like the difference between bumble bees and angry hornets.¡±

    Cathran¡¯s eyes widened.

    ¡°Yes,¡± said the dryad. ¡°And though they don¡¯t have stingers, you¡¯ll find their bites to be quite, worrying.¡±

    ¡°Are they venomous?¡±

    ¡°Oh yes, not deadly perhaps, unless you were particularly small,¡± she glanced at the twins as she spoke. ¡°But if one bit you, I¡¯m confident you would not soon forget it.¡±

    ¡°Do you keep them around to protect the garden?¡± asked Arahn.

    ¡°I don¡¯t keep them around,¡± she said firmly, then sighed. ¡°They are the Master¡¯s minions, I merely play host.¡±

    ¡°So you do know the Masters then?¡± prompted Calan¡¯dal.

    The dryad paused, watching one of the brightly coloured birds swoop down to get a drink at the stream, before deciding to reply. ¡°I do not know them by name but the Masters control the Abyss and all that goes on within its enchanted walls,¡± she paused again, this time to offer a baby squirrel some pieces of an acorn. ¡°I am a Dryad and I cannot leave my tree, so I can only speak of what I have heard from others. To hear their tales, it seems the floors of the Abyss and the creatures in them move around at a whim.¡±

    ¡°Which is what I suspected,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Some kind of control mechanism then, but how exactly is that supposed to work?¡±

    ¡°That is a question that might be answered by our mutual friend,¡± she replied before addressing the branches above her. ¡°Miirik dear, would you be so kind as to join us?¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    There was a rustling above them before a familiar reptilian head poked itself out of the branches. Miirik climbed down the tree trunk and flopped down onto the grass beside his Mistress, gazing up at her adoringly.

    ¡°You call on Miirik, Mistress?¡± he asked. ¡°How can Miirik serve?¡±

    ¡°I want you to tell our guests about your experiences on the lower floors,¡± said Tansya. ¡°Tell them what you told me about things changing.¡±

    ¡°Yes Mistress,¡± said the kobold before turning to address the party. ¡°Miirik sometimes returns to floors he has visited in the past, only to feel something is different. Sometimes Miirik will walk through a large cave and then on his way back, the room will be flooded with water.¡±

    ¡°The Masters control these changes,¡± the dryad explained. ¡°Where they are or exactly how they have control over this place, is a mystery to me. You must understand the Abyss is a mammoth place and I am confined to but one room of the highest floor.¡±

    ¡°So if we are to discover the Abyss¡¯s secrets, we must travel into its lower floors,¡± Calan¡¯dal theorised to which the dryad nodded. ¡°Which then begs the question, how do we descend further?¡±

    Tansya looked oddly resigned at the question. ¡°I would beg you to please remain here in my garden, but I think such words would be a waste at this point as you clearly have your own goals here. The exit to this floor is over there.¡±

    The dryad gestured to the eastern wall of the room, which bore a large mosaic mural of trees and flowers. Around the outside of the tiles was a stone arch, suggesting the mural covered stone was some kind of door though it lacked any obvious means of ingress.

    ¡°I assume the stairs down to the next level are behind it?¡± Calan¡¯dal asked. ¡°And some trick is needed to open it?¡±

    ¡°Of course, if you could wander freely the Masters would not be entertained,¡± the dryad all by rolled her eyes. ¡°But yes, there is. The passage will not open for you until the tasks set for this floor have been completed.¡±

    ¡°More conformation for my assumptions then,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, sounding vindicated.

    ¡°So what do we have to do then?¡± Lem asked making the dryad smile.

    ¡°That, I am not permitted to tell you.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± demanded Evan with a pout.

    ¡°You must understand little ones that my duty is to my garden and those that live here,¡± said Tansya. ¡°I cannot, nor will I, put them in any danger.¡±

    ¡°You fear the Masters will use their power to destroy your garden should you assist us more than is allowed?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°The Masters are capable of anything,¡± said the dryad her breathing growing a little laboured. Suddenly she clutched her chest, a gasp of pain on her lips as Miirik scrambled to get her some water.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Cathran exclaimed shocked by the sudden deterioration of the dryad¡¯s health.

    Tansya waved a dismissive hand as she drank some of the kobold¡¯s offered water, taking a moment to catch her breath. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, how unseemly to behave this way in front of guests,¡± she said as Miirik helped her to stand on shaking legs. ¡°As much as I wish to continue this conversation, it seems I am going to have to rest earlier today than I had planned.¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Cathran assured her. ¡°We completely understand.¡±

    Smiling gratefully Tansya turned and placed her hands gently on the tree. She closed her eyes, breathed out and then melted into the great trunk in a flurry of autumn leaves.

    ¡°Sleep well, Mistress,¡± said Miirik softly patting one of the tree roots before flopping down with a sad whimper.

    ¡°Miirik,¡± Calan¡¯dal ventured, his tone kind and sympathetic. ¡°Your Mistress doesn¡¯t seem well. Isn¡¯t there something we can do for her?¡±

    ¡°Mistress is sick,¡± said Miirik wringing his hands nervously. ¡°Mistress¡¯s tree is dying.¡±

    ¡°Dying?¡± Cathran asked looking up at the green leaves. ¡°But it looks so healthy.¡±

    ¡°Mistress can feel it,¡± said the kobold clearly distressed. ¡°Mistress and her tree are connected. Mistress can feel that something is attacking and killing her tree.¡±

    ¡°Do you know what is doing it?¡± Cathran asked, pressing onwards when Miirik averted his eyes nervously. ¡°Please tell us, maybe we can help.¡±

    Miirik shivered, staring down at his clawed feet for a moment before talking. ¡°Mistress was fine until they arrived,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re not supposed to be here. They dug through the walls, through the ground. Mistress forbids Miirik from going there to see, but Miirik knows.¡±

    ¡°What do you know?¡± Cathran prompted gently.

    ¡°Mistress¡¯s feet hurt,¡± said Miirik sadly slowly starting to rock back and forth. ¡°The things in the walls are making Mistress¡¯s feet hurt.¡±

    ¡°Trees don¡¯t have feet,¡± said Lem confused.

    ¡°No,¡± Calan¡¯dal agreed. ¡°But they do have roots.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± said Cathran as if suddenly remember. ¡°The hole we saw dug out of the wall in the passageway. Do you think they cut through the tree¡¯s roots when they were digging?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s certainly a possibility,¡± said Calan¡¯dal with a nod.

    ¡°We should speak to them,¡± said Lem optimistically. ¡°Maybe they don¡¯t know what they¡¯re doing.¡±

    Cathran scoffed incredulously.

    ¡°Either way,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Something has to be done.¡±

    ¡°Does it?¡± said Morvar, who¡¯d had so far stayed silent their entire time in the garden. ¡°You don¡¯t seem like the kind of person to help a girl out, just from the goodness of your heart.¡±

    ¡°Maybe not,¡± said the elf, brushing away the clear insult. ¡°But we¡¯re not going to get anywhere down here without initiative. And as the master of this expedition,¡± he smirked when the troll¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°I intend to explore every crook and crevice provided to me, even if that does mean we end up playing the Abyss¡¯ games.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t leave,¡± Miirik interrupted distressed. ¡°Do not leave Miirik alone without the Mistress.¡±

    Arahn looked between Miirik as the kobold gazed up at Calan¡¯dal with pleading eyes. The sooner they solved the puzzle, the sooner they¡¯d be on their way. After all, if this was all a game then this invasion and attack on the tree might have been arranged in preparation for their arrival. While Miirik seemed to be unable to read into the situation, the dryad appeared almost resigned to her role in the game they were all being forced to play.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Arahn assured forcing himself to smile. ¡°If we can find out what¡¯s hurting your Mistress and can stop it, then you¡¯ll never have to worry about being without her again.¡±

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we take advantage of being here to get a proper rest first?¡± asked Cathran.

    ¡°Not a bad idea,¡± agreed Calan¡¯da. ¡°At least until she wakes up again. I might have a few more questions before we head out.¡±

    The twins were curled into a ball and napping by the river by the time the dryad re-emerged from her tree. The moment she appeared Miirik dashed forward to help her sit down. She sighed apologetically before looking up at Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°I believe there are some things that need to be discussed,¡± he said politely.

    ¡°Oh yes? And what might those be?¡± Tansya asked curiously.

    ¡°My companions and I are concerned about your health,¡± Calan¡¯dal said. ¡°You¡¯ve been very kind to let us stay here in your garden. That said your generosity would seem for naught if you and your garden were in danger.¡±

    The dryad ducked her head with a deep sigh and nodded. ¡°It¡¯s true, if my tree dies and I fade, then the magic keeping this garden alive will fade as well.¡±

    ¡°So you need someone to stop the digging creatures who have cut through the roots, yes?¡±

    The dryad nodded but she still looked sad. ¡°And yet it may not be enough. The damage to my tree has already been done; just stopping further damage may not save it. It needs to be healed and restored.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m going to take a chance here and assume that what we need to do this is somewhere on this floor of the Abyss?¡±

    ¡°More than likely, but I do not know where you will find it, or whatever ever it might be.¡±

    Instead of replying though, Calan¡¯dal turned to Cathran. ¡°Do you still have that special water you found in the font?¡±

    ¡°The water?¡± asked Cathran her tone sounding conflicted.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Calan¡¯dal continued. ¡°I was thinking since you have those nice crystal flasks now it didn¡¯t need to sit around in an old drinking skin.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yes,¡± said Cathran, as though that sounded like a lovely idea.

    She pulled her bag from her shoulder and brought out the wooden box of flasks. With Calan¡¯dal holding one, she opened the water skin and allowed what looked like a stream of the starry heavens to flow forth into the glass container.

    Calan¡¯dal couldn¡¯t help holding it up to the light and watching the way the rays of the fake sun danced around the bottle. Now that he was looking at it himself, Calan¡¯dal could feel the draw of magic. It was a gentle thing, not malicious, just self-protective so as to prevent someone who got to the water from trying to destroy it.

    ¡°It¡¯s beautiful,¡± said the dryad looking a little mesmerised herself. ¡°Pure Water, the blood of Alvis; spirit of our world. It comes to the surface rarely and only from a few isolated springs.¡±

    ¡°Would this help your tree?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°Not on its own,¡± the dryad said sadly with a shake of her head. ¡°It needs to be charged with Nature and Earth magic so the power it contains can be directed at healing. Right now, the magic inside may be too much for my tree to handle.¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± said Calan¡¯dal gravely, putting the cork into the flask. ¡°Raw magic can be very dangerous.¡±

    ¡°So what now?¡± asked Arahn.

    When Calan¡¯dal had mentioned the water the boy¡¯s heart had leapt, assuming their problem had already been solved. But it seemed like healing the tree wouldn¡¯t be as simple as they had first thought. It was clear the elf had hoped the enchantment on the water would turn out to be some kind of potion, or even just to have carried some kind of healing enchantment. And yet, going by the expression on his face, being able to hold in his hands the life force of the very planet was a very humbling experience.

    ¡°Well there a only a few places left to try,¡± said he elf. ¡°There was a hidden room we bypassed because we lacked a key.¡± Calan¡¯dal quickly described the shape of the lock to the dryad.

    ¡°I know of no such key I¡¯m afraid,¡± she said shaking her head regretfully.

    ¡°Honestly, I would have been shocked if you had,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, returning the flask to the wooden case. Cathran took the case from him reverently and placed it safely back in her bag. ¡°No matter, apparently there are still some people on this floor we¡¯ve yet to speak to.¡±

 Chapter 11: King of the Goblins

    [Diary Entry To Be Added]

    Calan¡¯dal left Cathran and Arahn with the dryad to go wake the twins, then made his way down the hill to where Morvar was leaning against the arched entrance. He relayed the information they had discussed to the troll, getting the expected grunt in reply. A few moments later the others joined them, Evan dozily rubbing sleep from his eyes.

    ¡°We may have a small problem,¡± the elf noted as they bid goodbye to the dryad and walked back out into the passageway. ¡°And when I say small I¡¯m talking about the size of the tunnel that¡¯s been dug in the wall.¡±

    ¡°We can get through there easy,¡± said Lem.

    ¡°Oh I know that,¡± Calan¡¯dal agreed. ¡°But I¡¯m not as young as I used to be and I¡¯m worried if I got down to crawl through there I wouldn¡¯t be able to get up again so easily.¡±

    ¡°So the leader of the expedition leaves the dangerous stuff to the lackey¡¯s, is that it?¡± growled Morvar.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± assured Arahn. ¡°Cathran and I can go with them; we can fit through there if we¡¯re careful.¡±

    ¡°The hell it is,¡± said the troll angrily. ¡°You could be walking into absolutely anything.¡±

    He had a point though. They had no idea what was waiting for them on the other side of the wall and without Morvar¡¯s strength or Calan¡¯dal¡¯s powerful, though of sparing use, magic there was a chance the four kids could find themselves in over their heads.

    ¡°Someone has to though,¡± Arahn pointed out.

    ¡°So we dig out the wall until all of us can fit,¡± said Morvar, punching his own palm and glaring.

    ¡°Because that won¡¯t attract attention at all,¡± said Lem sarcastically.

    ¡°None of you have ever been thieves before and it really shows,¡± added Evan.

    ¡°What do you suggest then?¡± asked Calan¡¯dal.

    ¡°We go in quietly, check out what¡¯s in there and if it can talk we try to schmooze it.¡±

    ¡°And if it can¡¯t?¡± asked Morvar. ¡°Or would rather just eat you?¡±

    The twins didn¡¯t seem too concerned, though they were probably doubting anything that would make a hole in the wall their size, was that much of a threat.

    Lem unsheathed her dagger and gave it a wiggle. ¡°I know where to find a guy¡¯s kidneys.¡±

    Arahn wanted to ask what she planned to do if whatever was in there didn¡¯t have kidneys, but he also didn¡¯t want to step on her confidence. It was nice to know at least one of them wasn¡¯t shaking in their borrowed boots. He had to consciously stop himself fiddling with his earing again.

    Since they¡¯d arrived the presence of Morvar¡¯s hulking figure had imparted an odd sense of calm for the human. Sure the troll was dangerous in his own right but knowing the man was on their side and had, so far at least, proved himself willing to jump into the fray in their defence was comforting. It could just be because he knew he was a lot more resilient than the others, but it was nice nonetheless.

    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s decided then,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°Though I should remind you, this isn¡¯t supposed to be a suicide mission. Not this early in our journey anyway!¡± He laughed, but when no one else joined him he stopped again quickly. ¡°Anyway, if things are looking pear shaped come back. We can always think up a plan B once we know what¡¯s in there.¡±

    As gung-ho as the elf had been about the expedition, it was nice to know he wasn¡¯t that eager to have his companions running head long into death.

    Together the four of them crawled through the winding passage, emerging from the other end in a long cavern with a low ceiling that had been roughly dug out of the earth. Thick tree roots were protruding out of the east wall of the dug cavern as they grew down into the cave from the garden above.

    Campfires were dotted around a central aisle. Several of the roots had been hacked up into logs and Arahn suspected that was what was being used as fuel. Sitting around the fires, perched on rocks, were dozens of small humanoid creatures, with familiar wide faces and bat like ears.

    In the city where Arahn grew up there had been plenty of goblins like the twins. Pale skinned, but with flushes of colour in their round cheeks, large brown eyes and hair every shade from a pale cream to a deep golden blond.

    These goblins though, could not be more different. Their skin was the colour of chalk, stark white and thin, bearing dark veins under the surface, and their long, lank hair had the same stark lack of colour. The scrawny, malnourished looking creatures hunched close to their meagre fires, bulging yellow eyes staring deep into the dancing flames.

    ¡°Eugh,¡± Lem groaned, distaste clear in her tone. ¡°Feral goblins.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± agreed Evan, though he kept his voice low. ¡°Bet you they don¡¯t even speak the common tongue.¡±

    ¡°Well they haven¡¯t figured out shirts yet, so I doubt it.¡±

    At the back of the room, was the largest campfire, where some rats were being roasted on sticks. Behind the fire, sitting on a throne constructed from the passage wall¡¯s missing stone bricks was a goblin wearing a crown crudely fashioned from bent wire, with several scratched and dinted baubles tied to it. Around his neck he wore a large chucky pendant in the shape of a sun that hung from a fine gold chain which felt out of place compared with the rest of his ragged dress. Beside the throne were two hairless dogs, with rat-like faces and teeth, which were occupied with a pile of bones.

    As soon as the group had entered the goblin on the throne had looked up from admiring his pendant, eyes narrowed in their direction.

    ¡°Who enters the realm of Goblin King Plogg!¡± he screeched, in very simple, heavily accented common.

    ¡°Guess one of them can speak,¡± said Evan, while Lem sniggered behind her hand.

    ¡°His name is Plogg.¡± she said almost disbelievingly.

    ¡°Quiet,¡± Cathran hissed. ¡°Don¡¯t you see the pendant around his neck? The shape is the same as the lock in the trap room.¡±

    The twins oohed softly in understanding and Evan mimed zipping his lips.

    ¡°Forgive us for intruding on you, your majesty,¡± said Cathran as they approached the throne. ¡°We were wondering if you may be able to assist us.¡±

    When the King looked confused and started chattering unintelligibly to a nearby goblin Lem rolled her eyes.

    ¡°Small words,¡± she hissed as she brushed Cathran aside and stepped forward.  Standing in front of the king she spoke in a loud voice while gesturing energetically to herself. ¡°I am Lem, a Human Goblin from above ground!¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Around them the goblins exploded in excited chattering, while the king looked nervous.

    ¡°What you want from King!¡± he demanded.

    ¡°No want from King,¡± Lem said shaking her head so hard her ears flapped. ¡°King quest, give us job!¡±

    Clearly taken aback by the direction of the conversation, it took a moment for the King to reply, but with his followers watching the proceedings he was quick to play along.

    ¡°Yes, tribe need help,¡± said the King, before pointing at the roots growing from the walls. ¡°Tree invade home. Kill tree. King could do it but¡ª¡±

    ¡°King cannot leave subjects,¡± interrupted Lem. ¡°Good King stay and protect tribe!¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± agreed the King immediately. ¡°You go destroy tree!¡±

    ¡°Burn tree!¡± chattered several of the goblins around the campfire.

    ¡°Yes!¡± cried the King liking this idea. ¡°Burn tree to cinders!¡±

    In response to this order Lem held out her hands. ¡°Reward!¡±

    ¡°What you want?¡± asked the King suddenly wary.

    Lem pointed to her own chest. ¡°Necklace!¡±

    The King grabbed at the necklace defensively.

    ¡°Want use key,¡± said Lem slowly, choosing her words carefully. ¡°King know key, yes?¡±

    It was clear the King had no idea what was going on anymore, but he was in too far now, he had to go along with it and agree or else his subjects would start to doubt him.

    ¡°Of course King know!¡± he exclaimed confidently.

    ¡°Need key to open door,¡± said Lem. ¡°Unlock door and bring back treasure. Give treasure and keep key.¡±

    At the mention of treasure the king¡¯s eyes lit up and Arahn suspected the tree had changed priority in the goblin¡¯s mind.

    ¡°What kind treasure?¡± he asked eagerly.

    ¡°Me not know,¡± said Lem. ¡°Door locked, need key.¡±

    The king slumped back in his chair looking grumpy. ¡°Then how you know is treasure?¡±

    Lem hesitated and Arahn¡¯s heart leapt.

    ¡°Because we already found some treasure!¡± he exclaimed suddenly.

    The king¡¯s gaze snapped to him in an instant. ¡°What treasure? Show treasure!¡±

    Arahn reached into his bag and pulled out the small money pouch the twins had found in the treasure chest. The sound of the coins jangling around inside pricked the ears of every goblin in the room. Eagerly the king shuffled forward in his chair and held out his hands for Arahn, who upturned the pouch into his open palm. The shower of silver and copper brought a huge grin to the goblin¡¯s face, making him giggle like a child. He held up one of the newer silver pieces and twisted it around to make it catch the light from the nearby fire and sparkle.

    The money was barely enough for a decent dinner out at the tavern, and yet the way the king looked at it you would have thought Arahn had served him a royal ransom.

    ¡°Where you find?¡± the king demanded suddenly.

    ¡°Outside the locked room?¡± Arahm ventured.

    Lem jumped on the comment immediately. ¡°Yes! Shinies outside locked room, so more treasure inside, need key!¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± said the King forcing the tone of his voice to sound authoritative. ¡°You take key and bring back treasure.¡±

    ¡°Then keep necklace?¡± asked Lem. ¡°Gift from King?¡±

    Suddenly both twins started jumping up and down chanting ¡°Gift!¡± enthusiastically. After a moment the King screamed for silence and made to remove his necklace. Before he could, the goblin at his side pulled him down by one large ear and began chattering loudly into it.

    ¡°Girl stay here,¡± said the King suddenly after he broke away. When Lem pointed at herself the King shook his head and pointed to Cathran. ¡°No! Human girl stay here. You bring back treasure, burn tree and get girl back, keep key.¡±

    The twins looked back at Cathran with wide pleading eyes and after a tense moment Cathran nodded nervously. The King clapped his hands eagerly, obviously thinking he had made the better deal. The twins dashed forward to take the necklace, before turning around and scrambling back towards the exit. As Arahn turned to go, Cathran grabbed his hand.

    ¡°Take the bag,¡± she whispered softly, sliding it from her shoulder in such a way that it slid down onto Arahn¡¯s arm ¡°I don¡¯t want them getting their hands on it.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Arahn assured her as he pulled the bag onto the opposite shoulder to his own bag. ¡°We¡¯ll come back for you.¡±

    ¡°What if you don¡¯t find any treasure?¡± asked Cathran, eyes wide and a nervous edge to her voice.

    Not knowing what to say all Arahn could do was give her hand a reassuring squeeze before following the twins back out into the passage.

    Just as they were reaching the end of the tunnel Arahn stopped. Evan and Lem were crouched near the entrance, bat ears twitching. The boy crouched and snuck forward. Outside in the corridor he could hear Morvar and Calan¡¯dal talking.

    ¡°They could be back any moment,¡± the elf was saying. ¡°Are you sure this is the conversation you want to be having?¡±

    ¡°Good a time as any,¡± replied the troll. ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°I must commend you on your perceptiveness,¡± Calan¡¯dal said. ¡°Dare I ask how you knew?¡±

    ¡°The way you cast,¡± replied Morvar matter-of-factly. ¡°There are no runes on your staff for you to call power from, you have no runic stones, no spell woven robes, nowhere for you to concentrate the focus of your spells.¡±

    ¡°Well you¡¯re not wrong there,¡± Calan¡¯dal admitted. ¡°But what makes you think it¡¯s blood magic? I could be an elemental mage, they don¡¯t need runes.¡±

    Arahn¡¯s eyes widened. Morvar thought Calan¡¯dal was a blood mage? That was a pretty serious accusation. Blood magic was illegal in pretty much every civilised society on Alvis. The Leimirra Inquisition had hunted users zealously across the continents for hundreds of years and you were lucky if all you got for being caught was the noose.

    ¡°The grooves in your staff,¡± replied Morvar. ¡°They¡¯re drawing lines.¡±

    ¡°Drawing lines you say?¡± repeated Calan¡¯dal, a tone of good humour in his voice. ¡°Somehow I don¡¯t think you¡¯re talking about pretty pictures.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Morvar growled, a touch of anger seeping into his gravel. ¡°You dip the point of the staff in a pool of blood, then you use magic to draw it up through the grooves and let it soak into the wood.¡±

    ¡°And yet,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°We¡¯ve yet to encounter any great degree of gore so far since we¡¯ve come down here. How am I casting then?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re using your own blood,¡± said Morvar his tone turning grim. ¡°But you¡¯re old, your blood is weak. You weren¡¯t suffering from mana loss after your casting killed the spiders, you had anaemia.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re surprisingly knowledgeable about this kind of thing,¡± said Calan¡¯dal after a long tense silence. ¡°And here I thought you were just a warrior.¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Morvar stressed, a slight grit to his teeth. ¡°My brother, curses upon his head, however¡­¡± The troll trailed off. ¡°No, you don¡¯t deserve that story. Not someone who trades lives for power.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a necromancer,¡± said Calan¡¯dal, sounding insulted.

    ¡°Might as well be.¡±

    ¡°Now see here, magic is a complicated, multi-faceted, web of arcane and elemental powers. No mage just wakes up one morning and decides: Today¡¯s the day I become a blood mage.¡±

    ¡°So what tipped you over the edge then?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t deserve that story,¡± snapped Calan¡¯dal angrily. ¡°You see, two can play your game.¡±

    The silence that descended outside in the corridor was laced with rage and hate, and for a moment Arahn was convinced he was about to hear the sounds of an explosive battle.

    Eventually the elf spoke up again. ¡°Are you going to tell the others?¡±

    ¡°I should tell ¡®em, you know? Tell ¡®em what you are.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ve already seen what I¡¯m capable of.¡± The elf paused and the tension in the hall was palpable. ¡°What good would it do them exactly, to know? To fear their contractor?¡±

    Silence descended again and the next time Morvar spoke he sounded grouchy. ¡°You think you can keep it to your own blood?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve managed for the last few decades,¡± replied Calan¡¯dal stiffly.

    ¡°Fine, well if you can keep managing then I can keep it to myself.¡±

    ¡°How generous,¡± said the elf snidely.

    ¡°But I swear, if you do anything, to any of them¡­¡± Morvar trailed off ominously.

    ¡°An empty threat,¡± said Calan¡¯dal. ¡°But noted all the same.¡±

    A tug at his sleeve made Arahn look down. Lem was looking up at him in the dimness of the passage, pressing her finger to her lips. He nodded and the pair snuck back up the tunnel a little ways, their light steps silent on the soft earth. Then they turned around and started bounding back towards him making enough noise to be heard out in the corridor.

    ¡°We¡¯re back!¡± Evan exclaimed as the twins burst back out of the tunnel, followed by Arahn.

    ¡°And look what we got!¡± sing-songed Lem waving the pendant key under Calan¡¯dal¡¯s nose.

    ¡°Splendid!¡± said the elf. ¡°What did you find in there?¡±

    Arahn started to explain what had happened but as soon as he mentioned the goblins the twins rolled their eyes.

    ¡°I hate talking with ferals,¡± spat Lem, sounding as though saying the word put a foul taste in her mouth.

    ¡°Don¡¯t I know it,¡± agreed Evan, moving away from the hole like it carried a disease.

    ¡°Where¡¯s the woman?¡± Morvar demanded suddenly, staring at Cathran¡¯s bag on Arahn¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°There was a bit of an incident,¡± Arahn tried to explain sheepishly scratching the back of his head.

    ¡°What kind of incident?¡± growled Morvar slowly, his meaty hands curling into fists.

    Arahn stammered out the rest of the explanation of their encounter.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± assured Lem quickly when Morvar looked ready to explode. ¡°We¡¯ll get her back, easy.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± agreed Evan. ¡°We could give that King any old shiny rubbish and he¡¯d think it¡¯s amazing. As long as we don¡¯t take an age to come back she¡¯ll be right.¡±

    ¡°Then we don¡¯t wait,¡± said Morvar, turning on his heel and setting off back up the corridor, the others at his heels.

    To their relief, when they returned to the room with the trapped floor, the wall was still open and the keyhole was visible through the panel. Lem passed the pendant up to Calan¡¯dal who slotted it into the gap and  gave it a turn. There was loud grinding sound beside them making Calan¡¯dal step back as the entire wall slide sideways, revealing the entrance to the hidden room.