《A Broken Kingdom》 A Dragon As Oskar fled through the forest, the dragon followed. Oskar had covered his companions¡¯ retreat, antagonizing the ancient silver dragon as they ran. He held out for as long as he could before tossing his war hammer over his back and following. He had wanted to give his friends as much of a lead as possible, since they were injured, and carrying their unconscious healer. They had disappeared into the treeline about two minutes earlier, but Oskar wasn¡¯t worried about losing them. As he broke through the overgrowth at the edge of the forest, Oskar could easily see the way ahead in shades of grey, seemingly as bright as day. The underbrush was thin here under the canopy, and he knew he could make good use of his favorite spell. He raised his hands and began the casting as the dragon¡¯s head burst through the trees behind him, her spread wings holding her back from coming through. He spun around as she roared, rearing back and blasting him with her frozen breath, tiny shards of ice ripping through his exposed skin and ricocheting off his armor. Well, shit. Oskar knew that a silver dragon was able to freeze solid any creature with its icy breath. He could feel hot blood flowing from the slices in his cheeks, over his cold skin and back into his hair as the arctic air continued to blast around him, and was once again grateful to his magical bloodline, and the immunity to cold that it granted him. He could still feel the cold though, and it was damn uncomfortable. Oskar closed his eyes, praying to Moridan that he wouldn¡¯t start shivering and flub the hand motions required to make the spell work. As the cold air tore around him, he finished the incantation, feeling swiftness take him as his surroundings seemed to slow. He spun away, opening his eyes and darting forward with a speed even the great dragon couldn¡¯t hope to match. Shame it only lasts a few seconds. Make the most of it, lad! The dragon screamed again behind him, somehow seeming to be even more enraged than before. Oskar tried to run faster. The energy coursing through him propelled him a dozen yards with every step. Only years of practice running at this speed kept him from colliding with trees in his path. The forest blurred past him, whipping by too quickly to really see. He¡¯d told his companions to go east, and he tried to maintain a direct path, but he thought he was veering a bit too far left. He corrected his course just as the spell¡¯s power started to fade. He began to slow his steps, a second or two before he lost the speed entirely. He managed to not flip end over end as the energy dissipated from his limbs. Sudden figures looming out of the darkness in a pool of torchlight at the edge of his vision grew rapidly larger as he approached, slowing himself drastically to a jog as he traversed the final few yards, arms out as he fought to maintain his balance. He averted his gaze from the torch to avoid going blind on the approach, then looked up again as the magical darkvision faded. The two people in front of him had turned before they even came into his field of view as he crashed through the underbrush. Amnestria had drawn her bow and was holding it with arrow nocked, aimed over his shoulder, eyes tracking back and forth through the treeline. The blood covering Amnestria¡¯s face was prominent on her cheeks in the torchlight, making her golden hair appear to glow crimson. He could see her trembling as she held the bow ready. Halting just in front of his companions, Oskar turned, but there was nothing behind him save for the distant sounds of a pissed off dragon. Crashing sounds growing steadily closer indicated that the dragon wasn¡¯t giving up the chase just yet. ¡°We need to keep moving,¡± Amnestria panted, lowering her bow. ¡°Maybe she¡¯ll give up-¡± ¡°She won¡¯t,¡± Oskar broke in. He immediately moved over to inspect the dwarf thrown over the shoulder of the human who had accompanied the three of them into the dragon¡¯s domain. Still unconscious, but breathing alright, and his heartbeat was strong. Oskar settled his hide armor ¨C disarranged after his run through the underbrush ¨C and then took Marent gently from Rando, who sighed in relief. Marent was not a light load. ¡°There¡¯s something wrong wi¡¯ her. Did you no see the patches on her scales?¡± ¡°I saw¡­¡± Amnestria paused as she continued to watch their backtrail, her dark green leathers almost disappearing against the foliage behind her. ¡°Something. Near her wing joints. Dull patches with black streaks. And she wasn¡¯t silver anymore, like she was turning grey.¡± ¡°Aye, might be she¡¯s diseased. If she¡¯s caught something, it¡¯d explain the erratic behavior.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Amnestria had driven her torch into the ground to free her hands. Now that Oskar had arrived, she snuffed it, plunging them into near total darkness. The forest returned to shades of grey, for Oskar at least. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Rando clutched his injured arm to his side. As a human, he was blind in the darkness. Oskar was human too, but was lucky enough to wear a brooch of darkvision, allowing him to see in complete blackness. Amnestria couldn¡¯t see as well as Oskar, but as long as there was a bit of starlight filtering through the trees, she could keep her bearings. ¡°Just stick close behind Oskar,¡± Amnestria said, walking backwards away from the sound of trees splintering. The two of them were still tired, but the short rest had eased their breathing slightly. Amnestria tucked her bow back into its spot on her back, taking Rando by the shoulder and turning him in the right direction. ¡°He¡¯ll lead us safely, and I¡¯ll keep you on course if you start to stray. Trust us."This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Rando looked unsure, but since he didn¡¯t really have a choice, conceded. Oskar gently settled Marent more securely, then took off at a jog, keeping his pace deliberately slow. ~~ Oskar trusted Ness to keep watch behind them, listening with her sensitive hearing, as he led them through the forest. The dragon grew ever closer as they ran, and Oskar tried veering sharply, hoping that the crazed beast wouldn¡¯t catch on, but no such luck. He was starting to tire, and the others were in much worse shape. As they ran on, Oskar had needed to slow even more to avoid outpacing them. Amnestria panted as she staggered forward. ¡°So ¨C pissed her off ¨C pretty good?¡± ¡°You know me too well, lass,¡± Oskar replied distractedly as he carefully watched the path in front of him, leading the group around an uneven patch of ground. ¡°Can you no hide our backtrail? She¡¯ll be on us in just a wee bit at this rate.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t ¨C without slowing down ¨C so much ¨C she¡¯d catch me.¡± Even Amnestria¡¯s elven heritage was no match for an extended battle and a five-mile run through the woods. ¡°We need ¨C distraction.¡± The three of them ran on through the dark, Oskar estimating that they had only a few minutes before the dragon caught up to them. He turned, peering over the shoulder not occupied by Marent. Ness was flagging, staggering in a jerking back and forth path as she stubbornly trailed behind. Rando was bent over, his dark hair hanging in his face as he stumbled along clutching the strap of his lute. Both were heaving for air. Even Oskar¡¯s breathing was coming hard; the belt he wore to increase his stamina could only do so much. This was no good. They were too hurt to fight; only Oskar had escaped serious injury back at the dragon¡¯s lair. The others would be next to useless in a battle right now, distractions he couldn¡¯t afford. He didn¡¯t have a choice. They broke into a large clearing in the forest, and Oskar slowed, calling a halt. ¡°Right then, here¡¯s the plan.¡± Oskar turned to look back as he spoke. The crashing sounds of the dragon was close. Very close. ¡°Neither of you can help me here. you need to take Marent and go.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Amnestria panted. ¡°We¡¯ll hide him behind ¨C bush or something. Then set up ¨C in the trees. Ambush. Rando, can you throw ¨C your daggers left-handed? We¡¯ll need to-¡± ¡°No, lass,¡± Oskar broke in firmly, walking back to her. ¡°Ye need to go. I¡¯ll give you as much time as I can, then catch up again. Head to the south, try to find that lake we camped at last night. If I canna catch you up in a wee bit, I¡¯ll find you there.¡± ¡°Oskar ¨C fucking dammit! No way ¨C letting you-¡± ¡°Ness. There¡¯s no other way.¡± Oskar kept his voice low, speaking only to her. ¡°Look at the situation, tell me what other options we have!¡± Amnestria gazed up at his face, half blind in the darkness. Oskar could see the tears brimming, but she refused to let them fall. She nodded, taking a deep breath. ¡°Keep her occupied. Do NOT engage. Use the trees for cover. Run if you get in a tight spot. That¡¯s an order!¡± She gave the orders firmly, staring into his eyes as if to drive them into his memory. She looked around helplessly, as if searching for some excuse to stay. ¡°You¡¯ve got another ¨C casting of Sprint?¡± ¡°Aye lass, been savin¡¯ it for a rainy day,¡± Oskar said, putting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He didn¡¯t plan to use the spell, however, but it was better to reassure his friend at the moment. ¡°Take care of him. I¡¯ll see you soon.¡± She nodded, lowering her head as he turned away. He moved over to Rando, who sighed in acceptance. The Bard held a hand up though, and began casting a simple spell. Oskar was always intrigued when the bard worked magic; he sang this spell as if it was a short little song, not requiring any hand motions beyond gesturing at Oskar. He could feel the effects as they began coursing through his body, and could guess at what this spell would help him to do. Rando then moved forward, wordlessly taking the unconscious dwarf from Oskar. As he settled Marent onto Rando¡¯s shoulder, Oskar moved around behind the man, brushing blood encrusted braids away and laying a hand gently on Marent¡¯s cheek. ¡°Bi s¨¤bhailte, mo chridhe1,¡± Oskar murmured in Dwarven, stepping back and reaching for his hammer. ¡°Go now,¡± he said in common. ¡°I¡¯ll try to lead her north for a bit. Run!¡± He turned, facing back, as the dragon¡¯s silver hide began to peek through the thick branches. He watched the others as they pushed through the heavy bushes, making their way south. He gazed after them for a moment, catching a last glimpse of Marent¡¯s still form as the branches closed behind them. Oskar turned, taking a deep breath. The dragon burst through the trees, roaring as she spotted him. She surged upwards onto her hind legs, roaring again as she glared at him in a crazed fury. Oskar could see the injuries on her hide that they¡¯d dealt earlier, unnatural black flesh showing through where her scales had been knocked off, and black blood clotting the wounds. This dragon was most assuredly diseased, and Oskar worried suddenly about contracting the illness. I must not fail. Oskar felt the prickling sensation at the backs of his eyes as he imagined his friends run to the ground, without even the breath left to scream. His breathing came faster, his hands tightened painfully on the handle of his hammer. He let the rage take him, propelling him into a focused battle fury. Chains suddenly burst from his flesh at shoulder and hip. Spiked, oily, and cold as the sea, the chains whipped their way down the length of his arms and legs, and around his torso, ends left to flail randomly. The grey and white forest took on a reddish tint as the blood began to fill his eyes. He screamed in joyful fury as strength began to rush through him, and he used the power of the emotions to cast a spell, foregoing the usual motions and words. As the chains settled themselves into place, he felt the spell complete, and his flesh became harder, more resistant to injury. The dragon looked down as he screamed, blinking in surprise as she beheld the strange, snarling creature wrapped in flailing chains before her. Her eyes focused on him as she dropped down to all fours, and her jaws opened for another roar. ¡°RUITH!2¡± Oskar screamed in Dwarven as he ran towards the gaping maw, hammer raised. 1 Be safe, my heart. 2 RUN! A Bloodrager ¡°Keep her occupied.¡± Oh aye, lass, Oskar thought grimly as he strode forward, towards the writhing dragon in the dimly lit clearing. She¡¯d managed to roll away from the continuing firestorm, digging her head into the ground and keening as she shoved, attempting to extinguish the flames. I¡¯ll keep her occupied, to be sure. ¡°Do NOT engage.¡± ¡°Use the trees¡­ That¡¯s an order!¡± Why is she no killing me? Is she playing wi¡¯ me? I should run. I should run now. Fool,¡± she hissed in Dwarven. ¡°You think you can master me? The butterflies obey my command, they swing from the trees and bring me diamonds!¡± ¡°Um,¡± Oskar replied, nonplussed. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nobody hides from my sight,¡± she spat. ¡°I have ten million eyes, and they see the feelings! The truth in the rain sparkles over the ocean YOU¡¯LL NEVER TAKE ME!¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. The immense impact as the tail slapped into his side carried him off his feet and threw him, again, across the clearing, sending him to the opposite side from which his friends had gone. Oskar was ready for it this time, and he focused, bringing his rage back into the forefront of his mind. As the chains once again burst from his flesh, he used the momentum of his emotions to form that last spell, casting it out just as he hit the trees. Dammit. I just had that enchanted. Sorry Ness, Oskar thought with finality. I¡¯m sorry I couldna delay any longer. Marent... ¡°I would¡¯ve had her, even if you hadna come back. One more good swing, and she fell. I could have taken her.¡± ¡°I know, lad. Maybe we just wanted to watch you do it.¡± Marent spoke almost silently, mouthing the words with exaggerated care as he raised a hand to brush hair from Oskar¡¯s face. ¡°But once I saw you on the ground, I couldna help myself.¡± ¡°Well, I canna say I¡¯m sorry you did. Wouldna have fancied a hike through the forest, searching for that damn lake, in this condition.¡± He winced, hauling himself to his feet. Marent tried to get under Oskar to support him, but Oskar staggered away. ¡°No, no, you¡¯re as bad off as I am. I¡¯ll not lean on you, Love.¡± Marent sighed. ¡°I may look worse than you,¡± he mouthed. ¡°But I managed to heal myself, so I¡¯ll do.¡± He moved under Oskar¡¯s arm, taking the swaying man¡¯s weight on his shoulder. He nudged gently, and they began moving forward. ¡°Stubborn old man,¡± Oskar muttered in his hollow voice. ¡°Not nearly as stubborn as you, lad,¡± Marent replied quietly as he walked at Oskar¡¯s side. Oskar was watching the ground in front of them, and did not notice. Breakfast "-muscles seemed stiff. The walk did him good, stop yelling at him," she admonished Marent as she spread the cloak out a bit, trying to catch some of the fire''s new heat. Oskar squinted, puzzling out what Amnestria was saying with some difficulty. "Besides, we DID need wood. A lot." Amnestria watched her friend moving stiffly around the campsite after he handed her the bag containing their cooking supplies. Thankfully, Oskar wasn''t too seriously injured and was able to pour them mugs of ale, fill the tea kettle, and place it on its hook over the fire as she began preparing breakfast. The cold that Oskar was immune to had essentially locked her in place next to the fire, so she appreciated that she didn''t need to get up just yet. She sipped at her mug, then set it aside with a shiver. It was too cold to drink right now without freezing herself from the inside out ¨C she decided to wait for the tea. She watched Oskar down his entire mug in one go, and she shuddered. She finished peeling the potatoes, reaching for a pan and placing it into the carefully raked out patch of coals. Oskar sat gingerly next to her and took the small pot of peeled potatoes, cubing them before tossing them into a bowl between them. "Dragon steaks," Oskar said in his slightly hollow voice. He was gazing wistfully at the corpse of the ancient silver dragon that he''d slain almost single-handedly the previous night. He looked down at the fire as he greased a fresh pan for the hot cakes. "Dragon steaks and fried eggs. Are we sure she''s diseased? Maybe it''s just some skin condition, the meat might still be - " "Tell you what-" Amnestria started before remembering. She waved a hand at Oskar, who turned to watch her lips as she spoke, handing him the bowl of batter. "Tell you what. You go over there, carve out a section of meat, and I''ll cook it up for you. If you don''t die in a week, we''ll all enjoy a nice dragon steak breakfast." Oskar snorted as he began scooping the batter into the pan. He stopped, and added more of the coarse oat flour to thicken it. He even added salt, for some ungodly reason, though she wasn¡¯t about to question him. Anything Oskar cooked would be better than what she could do. ¡°Would I be more likely to die from disease, or from the cooking- Ow!¡± Amnestria had forgotten about his ribs, and immediately regretted the punch. Oskar was so big and muscly that she usually didn¡¯t need to pull a punch delivered in jest, and she had delivered a solid blow. ¡°anything''s salvageable? the hide''s all pocked and blotchy, the scales are more grey than silver, and they''re weaker than normal. You saw how they were bein'' knocked off left ¡®n right whenever we hit?" If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Oskar raised a brow as he sharply jerked the pan, flipping the hotcake without even using a spatula. He was a much better cook than she was, so he managed without taking his eyes off of her face. Show off. "Matchin¡¯ armor?" "Gaudy and showy, more like," Oskar replied as he settled the pan back in the coals. "They''d all be on us at the start of every fight, the troops would have to protect us like bodyguards... You''d make us into targets, woman." "Hmph. Well, maybe just for fancy occasions. It''s a moot point anyway if the hide''s not usable." Amnestria shook the potatoes in the pan, tossing a bit of salt over them as she did so. She could hear Oskar¡¯s voice in her mind, gently admonishing as he¡¯d vainly tried to improve her skills. ¡°Season as you cook, woman. Get the flavor in the food while it¡¯s heatin¡¯ up.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡°Vorum is a city. Orgumir is the Crown Prince of Vorum. In the Dwarven lands, Crown Princes rule the cities like mayors do in your human lands, and each province has a High Prince. There is no ruler in charge of all four provinces. However, all the princes ¨C the Crown Princes and the High Princes ¨C are still royalty, and retain more authority and power than a human mayor would. Anyway, it¡¯s cold because she was silver. Silver dragons are cold by nature.¡± Amnestria shook the pan again, belatedly remembering the potatoes. Not quite burned, but definitely darker than they should be. ¡°When a dragon dies, their nature sticks around for awhile, no longer contained inside themselves. She should stop freezing things in a day or so." Rando looked over at the corpse of the dragon. They''d camped as far away from her as they could without leaving the clearing entirely, and when Rando had finished his shift on watch and gone to bed, the cold hadn''t yet reached them. The dragon, and the area around the corpse, was coated in a thick layer of ice. The morning fog had condensed and frozen onto the freezing flesh, entombing it in a sparkling blanket. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Second Breakfast ¡° Pure ferocity. That fit Oskar. ¡° ¡° ¡° Amnestria gave him another hard look, before turning back to the pan. ¡°You want our history? Fine. Oskar¡¯s a friend. I met him when he was training with my father. I met him again years later, met Marent, and we all got together to go adventuring. Eventually, we saved Orgumir¡¯s life, and he became our patron.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. ¡°People could do that? ¡° ¡° ¡°It doesna matter to him,¡± Marent¡¯s voice broke into their conversation, seemingly unconcerned with their gossip about his oblivious husband. He was crouching in the entrance to the tent, watching them with a raised brow. ¡°He¡¯s aware that there¡¯s some influence there, but honestly, what¡¯s th'' point to knowin¡¯ details? He knows what he can do, and does it well. th'' rest is moot.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° anythin¡¯. He was found on the road. His parents ¨C the dwarves who raised him ¨C are merchants. They were verra familiar wi¡¯ everyone in every nearby town. They checked. Nobody was missin¡¯ a baby. Nobody was missin¡¯ at all. Nobody remembered travelers wi¡¯ a baby. They kept checking through the years, especially when the lad grew old enough to start askin¡¯ questions, wanting to know where he¡¯d come from. Never found anything. So.¡± Marent raised a brow. ¡°What¡¯s your next step.¡± ¡°Aye then.¡± Marent stood and moved fully out of the tent, letting the flap fall behind him, dismissing the conversation. ¡°Interview multiple large cities full o¡¯ people t¡¯ see if anyone remembers a baby forty-eight years ago. Ye¡¯ll do what you feel best.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° Silly dwarves, Amnestria thought in amusement. They were all like that, hiding their emotions behind stony expressions, even as they cracked jokes. Most people thought all dwarves were standoffish and reserved, but she¡¯d traveled with her two companions for years, and had seen them drop their guard every now and then. They could convey volumes of information with a glance, a raised brow, or a few short words. Dwarves were all very reserved in public, but in private, with family, they would emote as well as any other race. Surgery ¡°Ye took a potion t¡¯ stop the bleedin¡¯ lass?¡± At Ness¡¯s nod, he continued, kneeling down on one knee and reaching out for Rando¡¯s arm. ¡°Aye, weel, ye¡¯ve got some wee splinters lodged under the skin. Once you can wash the blood away and straighten out that rat¡¯s nest, I¡¯ll see what I can do about removing ¡®em. An¡¯ that scar. You and Oskar¡¯s refusal to wear helmets-¡± ¡°Scar?¡± Amnestria yelped as she clapped her hand to the top of her head, wincing at the sharp prick from the embedded splinters. She prodded, feeling several large masses under the skin. ¡°¡®Wee¡¯, he says. What scar? How bad is it? Surely it¡¯ll be covered by the hair-¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Rando was already moving, casting the same spell, but with his own flavor. He breathed out a quick little song as he took Amnestria¡¯s hand. The bluish flash came, and went, and Rando bowed over Amnestria¡¯s hand. ¡°My lady, you are well and healthy, have no fear.¡± Marent had stood and walked over to Rando, casting as he took the final few steps. He laid his hand on Rando¡¯s shoulder just as Rando turned and began casting the spell again himself. Oskar could see the difference in the light, as they cast the same spell in quick succession. Rando¡¯s light was more of a teal color, while Marent¡¯s was a clear sky blue. Oskar wondered if that had something to do with the way they cast, or their personalities. ¡°Yer fine too.¡± ¡° ¡° This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°you promise not to let him have them again." ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°This morning, obviously. Rando was impressed by your performance last night, and had some questions.¡± Amnestria rolled her eyes. ¡°Fair warning: you¡¯re to be ¡®interviewed¡¯.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°Glare a lot when you do,¡± Amnestria prompted, pondering the idea. ¡°Ooh ¨C let the blood creep into your eyes. That always freaks people out. Shame I can¡¯t do that, maybe he¡¯d leave me alone.¡± ¡° ¡° The Clearing Marent and Rando clambered into the clearing then. They had been traveling fifteen yards behind Oskar and Amnestria, to avoid everyone falling prey to any ambush the group might encounter ¨C a lesson they¡¯d learned many years ago. Rando seemed irritated; apparently Marent wasn¡¯t as stimulating a conversationalist as Amnestria had been, her reluctance to engage with the man notwithstanding. For his part, Marent seemed outwardly as calm and disinterested as ever, though Oskar knew him well enough to see the annoyance in the dwarf¡¯s eyes. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Marent looked up the steep incline. It was too steep to take the horses up, though not impossible to climb. He hoped they wouldn¡¯t have to. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° Target acquired. Return. ¡° The Lair ¡° Marent grunted, and walked forward. They HAD had to climb the damn cliff, leaving the horses behind, and he was thoroughly irritated. His palms were scratched, his knees dirty, and his beard full of dirt and leaves. Even worse, Oskar had needed to hoist him up over several protruding roots and rocky outcroppings. Marent couldn¡¯t wait to bathe tonight. ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°sure it¡¯s safe, then-¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° into the second¡¯s ¡° Marent nodded, and the two of them broke into a jog, moving forward. ¡° Oskar and Marent walked back to where the others waited. Oskar was amused ¨C Amnestria was practically dancing with agitation at their slow pace. He briefly considered ¡° ¡° Oskar looked to Marent, who shook his head. ¡°No time for trainin¡¯ lad, ye¡¯ll need to do whatever you can in the next hour or so. ¡°Yes,¡± Rando tilted his head to the side. ¡°And you¡¯access ¡° ¡° are ¡° ¡° drop ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡°look ¡° ¡°Nay, my power is entirely divine in nature. Oskar wouldn¡¯t be able to manipulate it the way he¡¯ll need to. ¡° ¡°He only knows the one ice spell, the Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡° ¡° ¡°More,¡± Oskar whispered. ¡°Feed more power into it.¡± ¡° ¡° ¡° ¡° was ¡°What was that all about? Is the bard alright?¡± Marent accepted the handful of coins Oskar had gathered from the floor. ¡°Oh, he¡¯s found the lyre ¡° A sudden chord of high, chiming ¡° ¡° ¡°work ¡° Rando gazed around at Marent and Amnestria in confusion, as Oskar remained bent over. ¡° ¡°Within reason.¡± Oskar¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Rando looked around. ¡°Let¡¯s finish gathering what we can, and then perhaps you¡¯ll answer a few questions for me?¡± Questions, and Cave-ins It was late, and Marent and Amnestria had gone to sleep. Oskar had the first watch, but the bard appeared to be too excited with his new prize to sleep. He sat on his side of the fire, one hand on the strings, eyes closed. He said that he needed to get to know the instrument better, to learn more about it¡¯s abilities. The thing did glow slightly, Oskar was sure of it. He¡¯d only seen it in the glow from a torch, sunlight, and the fire¡¯s flicker, but he was certain that it gave off a faint golden aura that wasn¡¯t entirely due to reflection. The collapse wasn¡¯t actually that bad. A few large chunks of the cave¡¯s ceiling had fallen, and a shower of dirt rained down on top of the large chunks of stone. They had managed to gather most of the loose gems and coin, and none of them considered it worth the effort to excavate the cave for the small amount left inside. They had filled their bags to near bursting by the time Marent called a halt to their gathering, and they pulled out of the cave. All in all, they¡¯d made out like bandits. Oskar¡¯s magically reinforced bag allowed him to carry much more than should logically fit into the available space, without being burdened with the extra weight. He¡¯d filled that bag with coins, gemstones, and small golden or silver figures. He¡¯d even found a few books in the cave, and though most of them had suffered extensive water damage, a few had made it out just fine. Oskar sat close to the fire and attempted to make out the script from an elaborately illuminated gnomish tome, though the tiny lettering was done so ornately that he eventually closed the book with a sigh. He¡¯d need a brighter setting ¨C or complete darkness ¨C to make any sense of it. Rando had opened his eyes, and though he still held the lyre, he wasn¡¯t fondling it anymore. He shifted and fidgeted on his side of the fire. He looked like he wanted to ask something, but refrained. Perhaps he was still unsure around Oskar? Well, Oskar thought to himself. I owe the man. Might as well get it over with. Oskar pulled out a flask as he replaced the book in his pack, and moved around to Rando¡¯s side. He settled down facing away, putting the fire at his back. Opening the flask, Oskar took a long drink before passing it over. Rando looked surprised, but accepted, taking a small drink. He coughed, then took another sip before passing it back. They sat in silence for awhile, sharing the whiskey, before Rando gained enough confidence to speak. ¡°So¡­ I, well.¡± He cleared his throat. ¡°I know you don¡¯t like me. I¡¯ve tried to make the best of it, pretend I don¡¯t notice, but it¡¯s obvious. Things seemed to change this afternoon though, so maybe you won¡¯t mind my questions so much. Marent and Amnestria thought I¡¯d better not ask though, so-¡± ¡°Yer rambling,¡± Oskar interjected mildly. ¡°Aye, I didna care for the way ye¡¯ve been bothering Ness, but it seems like ye¡¯ve learned yer lesson after breakfast?¡± Rando looked away. ¡°Yes. I-yes. I¡¯m sorry. I should apologize to her tomorrow. I¡¯d consider giving her some of the gems I gathered on the way out of the cave but that would probably imply something I didn¡¯t really mean. Better to go with a simple apology, right?¡± ¡°Gi¡¯ the lass a stick,¡± Oskar advised. He tilted his head back, draining the last of the liquor from the flask before capping it and putting it away. He looked at their pile of firewood, and nudged a lengthy specimen with his boot. ¡°That one¡¯ll do.¡± ¡°A stick. Okay.¡± Rando nodded, though his face expressed his confusion as he bent forward and picked up the selected branch. He held it up, eyeing it in the firelight. ¡°What¡¯s the purpose of the stick?¡± ¡°Tell her she has yer permission to break it over yer head if you forget yerself again.¡± Oskar stood, moving away from the fire as Rando laughed ruefully. ¡°Back in a moment.¡± Oskar moved through the trees, checking their perimeter. He knew the questions the man was going to ask, and felt slightly uneasy. He¡¯d always regretted never knowing his birth parents, and he wasn¡¯t looking forward to sharing intimate details of his history with a man he barely knew. Oskar looked around carefully before opening his pants and relieving himself. He watched an owl fly silently through the forest, diving for some small animal before arcing back into the trees. The forest was quiet otherwise. He put his clothes back in order, and continued around the campsite. The leaves covering the forest floor made silence impossible, but Oskar attempted to move quietly anyway. Tramping around too loudly would wake Ness, who slept extremely lightly, and she¡¯d be annoyed with him. All quiet. No point in putting it off any longer. He passed behind the tents, and moved back in towards the center of camp. He walked back to the fire and nodded to Rando as he sat again. ¡°Aye then. Ye¡¯ve questions. Ask.¡± Rando took a deep breath, looking at Oskar before glancing away. He stared into the fire, gathering his thoughts. Ruinin¡¯ his night eyes, Oskar thought as he gazed at the dark treeline. He¡¯ll be useless if we¡¯re attacked. ¡°Alright. Well, I must admit that I¡¯m fascinated by you. Your magical and martial abilities mesh in a way I¡¯ve never seen before. I have read about something like this before though. Have you ever heard of the Bloodragers of old?¡± ¡°Aye, I had a teacher. He taught me how t¡¯ control the rages, keep em in check. When I first went t¡¯ him, I couldna remember what went on while I was... mad. Couldna control myself at all. More likely to hurt my friends than do any good in battle.¡± Oskar leaned back, looking at the stars. ¡°Dorin mentioned the Bloodragers. Didna tell me much about em though. Just that I must be descended from some dragon or somethin¡¯ t¡¯ be able t¡¯ rage and cast spells at the same time.¡± ¡°Not a dragon,¡± Rando interjected. Oskar looked back at the bard. ¡°I...well, I know a bit. If it was a dragon, you¡¯d have wings instead of chains, and breathe fire or ice. I have no idea what type of entity is associated with chains. That¡¯s why I wanted to ask you about yourself. You must be the first Bloodrager in living memory; I¡¯d be remiss in my duties as head of the Bardic College if I didn¡¯t--¡± ¡°Wait, yer in charge of the college?¡± Oskar was surprised. The man was so young. Then again, he did seem extremely competent, if a bit fool-headed. ¡°I thought yer grandfather was the leader?¡± ¡°Well, yes. My grandfather mentored me from a young age, always expecting me to grow up and take over for him. When he died, I had to finish my training elsewhere, but I always viewed the college as sort of a... birthright.¡± Rando was moving his hands gently over the strings of the lyre. He wasn¡¯t strumming, but the instrument still gave off a faint, barely audible thrumming sound as he caressed it. ¡°I joined as soon as they¡¯d have me, and never stopped studying and practicing until I was the best. This lyre is called the Storuum. It means fable, in some ancient languages. It could also be derived from--¡± Oskar waved a hand. ¡°I dinna need the etymology. Suffice it to say it¡¯s powerful?¡± ¡°Oh yes,¡± Rando gazed lovingly down again. ¡°They reproduced it, of course. A cheap replica only partially enchanted. I couldn¡¯t settle for that. The Storuum was the only instrument worthy to represent the entire Bardic College. It¡¯s more a symbol of the College than I could ever hope to be.¡± Rando adjusted on his seat. ¡°I¡¯m getting off track. Yes, I¡¯m aware of some few writings that document Bloodragers, but there isn¡¯t much material available. I¡¯d like to change that. I¡¯ll keep your name out of it if you wish, but to be able to add new information to the archives...¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Oskar considered. It couldn¡¯t hurt. He didn¡¯t know much himself, but he would share what he could. ¡°What do you know already, about me specifically?¡± Oskar asked, glancing back out at the trees. ¡°I know ye¡¯ve been asking the others, I¡¯m not angry about it. I just don¡¯t want to waste time repeatin¡¯ things you already know.¡± ¡°Well, Amnestria told me you started raging a few decades ago,¡± Rando seemed hesitant. ¡°And that you were just a plain sorcerer before that. You didn¡¯t wield your hammer under after---¡± Rando stopped, looking chagrined, and Oskar sighed. ¡°She told you about the cave-in?¡± ¡°Well, no, just that you were injured.¡± Rando was quick to jump to Amnestria¡¯s defense. ¡°She didn¡¯t give me any personal details, don¡¯t think--¡± ¡°I trust Amnestria. If she told you anything, she did so after considering what I¡¯d prefer not t¡¯ be spread around, I have no doubt about it. So what did Marent say?¡± Rando shifted again, still uncomfortable. ¡°At first I wanted to know your family history, so I could try to track your ancestry and try to determine your bloodline¡¯s influence. I thought that if I can ferret that out, I could perhaps help you unlock more power, more special abilities. Marent told me that you were adopted and don¡¯t remember anything, so I guess that¡¯s a dead end?¡± ¡°Aye, my parents were never able t¡¯ determine where I¡¯d come from. There weren¡¯t even any tracks leading away from where they¡¯d found me on the road.¡± Oskar sighed. ¡°I¡¯m not sure if there really were no tracks, or if the scouts were just drunk that day.¡± ¡°Well, if tracking your history is fruitless, I¡¯d settle for knowing more about you. How about that time you were injured? That was the first time you raged? Maybe I could piece together what sparked that first instance of anger pure enough to--¡± ¡°Aye,¡± Oskar stood, and Rando fell silent. Moving over to his pack again, Oskar pulled out another flask, and returned to his seat. He drank deeply before passing the whiskey to Rando. ¡°Gi¡¯ me a moment t¡¯ collect my thoughts. That was about twenty-five, no, twenty-seven years ago, in ¡®65. I was twenty-two years old. Havena thought about it in awhile.¡± Rando nodded, and lifted the flask. ¡°Well, take your time, I¡¯m not going anywhere. Oskar leaned back again, gazing up at the stars. He saw the Lover, and the Dancer. The Dancer was almost gone, in a week or so she''d no longer be visible in the sky. He''d have to make sure to show Marent. "We''d found a family, dead by the roadside." Oskar began in a rush, almost before he knew he was speaking. "They''d been murdered, and Amnestria found tracks leading away. She set the two of us by the trail to watch, and scouted ahead..." ~~ Late Autumn, Year 565 Oskar and Marent crouched in the bushes. Amnestria had left them almost twenty minutes ago to scout ahead, and Oskar was getting restless. He shifted, causing leaves to crackle as his weight settled. He froze in place, leg twitching, glancing at Marent¡¯s still form. The dwarf¡¯s much more athletic build allowed him to crouch in place without any problems. Oskar¡¯s legs, however, were burning with the effort. He wasn¡¯t used to it. Marent looked over at Oskar, raising a brow. Oskar shook his head, trying out one of the new hand signs Amnestria had begun to teach them. Everything fine, proceed. Marent tilted his head in confusion, and Oskar wondered if he¡¯d flubbed the motions or if Marent had misunderstood. He shook his head, looking back down to the path below, and shifting again. Marent moved, settling down quietly into a sitting position, glancing at Oskar as he did so. Oskar looked around carefully before lowering himself as well, breathing a sigh of relief as his aching legs stretched out. He nodded in gratitude at Marent, knowing the dwarf had sat so that Oskar wouldn¡¯t feel obliged to keep crouching. Oskar wasn¡¯t out of shape, per se, but he wasn¡¯t nearly as fit as Marent. The dwarf had apparently been a soldier before Oskar had even been born, and had worked as a mercenary for years before he met Oskar. Oskar, on the other hand, had spent his life riding a wagon, studying spellcasting, reading books for fun, and serving drinks at a bar in Vorum. These activities didn¡¯t exactly lead to a muscled body, and Oskar always felt as if his traveling hides and spellcaster¡¯s coat swallowed his slender form. The two peered down at the trail in silence. They¡¯d been set to watch for any travelers while Amnestria followed the tracks they¡¯d encountered after coming upon the dead family by the roadside. They had an appointment in three days time, but neither of them had protested when Amnestria had decided that they would track down the bandits responsible. Oskar turned, glancing around the forest. He jumped, gasping a quick breath before settling. Marent jerked around, yanking his hammer off of his belt. Oskar glared. ¡°Dammit lass, don¡¯t do that!¡± Amnestria looked between the two of them as she sat there, three feet behind them, looking irritated. ¡°I can¡¯t believe you didn¡¯t hear me. I wasn¡¯t even trying to be quiet! I stepped on sticks. I coughed. I damn near sang a dirty song coming up behind you. One of these days I¡¯m going to come back to find you both with throats slit-¡± ¡°We were watchin¡¯ the trail,¡± Marent protested. ¡°Ye told us to watch the trail. you didna say anythin¡¯ about listenin¡¯ for twigs an¡¯ coughs.¡± ¡°Always listen to the forest. The birds stopped singing before I got to within thirty feet of you. That itself should have put you on guard, and ¨C never mind. Come on, I¡¯ve found them.¡± ¡°Th¡¯ bandits?¡± Oskar jumped up, face hardening at the thought of finding those bastards. That murdered woman had been pregnant. He relished the thought of dispensing justice. ¡°How many? How well equipped? Do they have any prisoners, or can I just fireball the camp?¡± Amnestria simply shook her head, and led them on through the woods, ignoring Oskar¡¯s eager questions. ~~ The three friends stood side by side, staring down. There were five bandits, three men, two women. Oskar saw signs of horses as well, but they were long gone. The fire had burned out, the pot of stew blackened and smelling strongly of burnt food. ¡°What happened t¡¯ them?¡± Marent asked quietly, looking around. He started eyeing the treeline, apparently unnerved enough at the situation to watch for threats without even being told to first. Amnestria nodded in approval. ¡°Let¡¯s see if you can figure it out, Oskar.¡± Amnestria spoke in a normal tone, though she also kept her eyes on their surroundings. She walked a few paces past the five corpses into the camp, drawing Oskar along with her. She crouched, gesturing and pulling Oskar¡¯s attention to the ground. ¡°Alright. It¡¯s a footprint.¡± Oskar looked at the depression in the dirt. ¡°A big one. It¡¯s¡­ shaped strangely. That¡¯s no a horse¡¯s print, or a person¡¯s?¡± ¡°No, look back at your own prints.¡± Amnestria pointed. ¡°Long and relatively narrow. This one is rounded, but separated. See the two halves?¡± Oskar looked back and forth, comparing. ¡°A big deer?¡± ¡°No,¡± Amnestria sighed impatiently. ¡°Deer prints are much smaller ¨C never mind, there¡¯s no time to walk you through it. It¡¯s a minotaur.¡± Marent cursed softly, drawing his hammer and studying the forest more intently. Oskar looked back and forth between the two older adventurers before speaking. ¡°Alright, I¡¯ve only read about them in books. Tell me what I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Minotaurs like to set up their dens near well-traveled roads or small towns. They try to lure hunters or travelers to them, as opposed to hunting them down. Sometimes they¡¯ll leave a few pieces of gold scattered in front of a cave, or even mimic the sound of a baby crying. It¡¯s unnerving, they sound just like human babies, or even animal cubs if the minotaur has a taste for venison or whatever. ¡°Have you ever hunted one before?¡± Oskar looked around at the destroyed campsite and the mangled corpses. ¡°Wait, so they do eat people? That¡¯s not just elaboration for the books I¡¯ve read? I always thought it was ridiculous ¨C they¡¯re half bull, are they no? Shouldn¡¯t they eat grass?¡± ¡°Yes, they eat people ¨C they¡¯re magical monsters that have bull heads, not a cross between human and bull, so logic doesn¡¯t apply. No, I haven¡¯t hunted one, but I¡¯ve spoken to hunters who have. They have terrible vision, so our best bet is to follow the tracks to the cave it¡¯s living in, and take it in the dark.¡± Amnestria pointed to a dried bloodstain in the dirt. ¡°There were six corpses when I left this camp earlier, and I could still see the grass unbending in that spot when we arrived just now. That means the beast came back for another body, and is probably still on it¡¯s way home. If we hurry, we can take it in the dark when it¡¯s not expecting anything.¡± Cave-ins and Questions Oskar crouched in the dark cave, blind. He kept his eyes closed, trying to force them to adjust more quickly to the darkness. Marent¡¯s hand on his shoulder gave him a point of reference, and he was grateful to the dwarf. He¡¯d fought off bandits, killed a few goblins, and helped Amnestria hunt their dinner a few times. A minotaur, however, was another thing entirely, and Oskar was nervous. ¡°They have long, tangled fur.¡± Amnestria had filled a small, fragile bottle with oil from their lantern. She capped it, then passed the bottle carefully to Marent. ¡°Fire should do it. Light it up, let it panic, and once the flames die down slightly, we attack. Marent, you¡¯re the only one that can see well enough in there. You get close ¨C get Oskar close too ¨C and lob the oil. Don¡¯t forget to cover your eyes. Oskar, use a spark of fire to light it, and then get clear. Once Oskar¡¯s out, Marent, you and I will block the cave entrance to keep it from running. Oskar, throw spells over our shoulders. We keep it in the cave, and hopefully it¡¯ll be too blinded from the bright backlighting behind us to give us any trouble.¡± Amnestria¡¯s plan was a good one. They usually were; even if they sounded foolish at first, they mostly worked out in the end. The elf was much older than either of the men, and as such, held wisdom and experience belied by her usual carefree personality. Even so, Oskar couldn¡¯t help that nagging feeling in his gut. He¡¯d never liked being vulnerable, and being completely dependent on Marent to lead him into a dark cave with a smelly, ten-foot tall, man-eating monster would rattle anybody. Marent had guided Oskar into the cave, and then drawn him down into a crouch. Placing a hand on Oskar¡¯s shoulder, Marent leaned in close and whispered softly. ¡°It¡¯s sleeping. I¡¯ll lead you forward, face you in the right direction. I see a good spot, so I¡¯ll put you fifteen feet awa¡¯ from the beast. Once I have you in position, I¡¯ll move off and get on the other side of it.¡± Oskar nodded. He may be blind, but Marent would be able to see the gesture easily. Not for the first time, Oskar wished that he was able to see in the dark like true dwarves. Humans seemed entirely too limited next to the other races. He could feel air moving past his face ¨C the cave seemed to have a constant slight breeze of fresh air rushing through it, as if it was breathing. A lock of hair had escaped his braid and fallen across his temple, the wind was causing it to flutter slightly. ¡°I¡¯ll tap the bottle wi¡¯ my fingernail before throwing t¡¯ gi¡¯ you some warning. Ye¡¯ll hear the bottle break when it impacts,¡± Marent continued. ¡°Throw the flame as soon as you can ¨C wi¡¯ our luck, the beast is only half asleep and will be on it¡¯s feet fighting wi¡¯in a second.¡± Oskar nodded again, a touch impatiently. Why was Marent going over this again? They¡¯d discussed the details after Amnestria had laid out the bones of the plan. Did Marent think Oskar would have forgotten? Oskar felt a slight shift from Marent¡¯s hand on his shoulder. The movement felt odd, he couldn¡¯t quite tell what Marent had done. Brushed some dust off? A slight tickle along his cheek ¨C wait. Marent was brushing that stray lock of Oskar¡¯s hair back out of his face. Oskar was surprised at the unexpected intimate gesture. Before today, Marent had barely touched Oskar, outside of brushing against him setting up camp, shoving him out of danger once or twice in battle, and teaching Oskar how to defend himself with his staff. Oskar hadn¡¯t been sure if Marent thought of him as more than a friend. Apparently, he did. ¡°I would take it as a great personal favor if you promise to be careful.¡± Marent¡¯s voice held an odd tone that Oskar had never heard before, though his words made his meaning clear. ¡°I cannae like the fact that you must do yer part blind, and ¨C just promise me, aye?¡± He must be nervous. He never stumbles over his words. Marent had taken a risk by exposing his feelings to Oskar, with no indication of whether Oskar even shared similar inclinations. Amnestria was a terrible flirt, hitting on pretty men every time they stopped at a tavern. She had made her preferences crystal clear. Marent and Oskar, on the other hand, were both quiet and reserved. Neither had shown interest in anyone in the few years they¡¯d worked and traveled together, and Oskar had often wondered about the striking dwarf. Marent¡¯s vivid green eyes were a rarity among his people, and they seemed even more bright as they peered out from his coal black hair and beard. Perhaps Marent had caught Oskar looking, and come to the correct conclusions? Oskar turned his head, facing towards where Marent¡¯s voice had come from. He looked blindly, eyes searching the blackness in front of him. Marent¡¯s face couldn¡¯t be more than an inch or two away, and Oskar imagined he could feel the heat of the older man¡¯s skin. Not that much older, if you think about it, Oskar thought to himself. Marent was around seventy years old, making him a young adult in dwarven years. He¡¯d never caught Marent looking at him as though he had any special interest, but that didn¡¯t exactly prove anything. Maybe he was shy, afraid of being caught? If he truly was interested in Oskar, the dwarf now had a great chance to study Oskar¡¯s features, at close range, with no chance of Oskar catching him looking. Oskar¡¯s face remained expressionless, though Marent wouldn¡¯t feel held under such restrictions. There was nobody to see, he could be free with his countenance. Oskar inclined his head slightly, gesturing with one hand. Marent seemed to understand, and Oskar felt the dwarf¡¯s loose hair against his face as he turned. He raised a hand, cupping the back of Marent¡¯s head gently, ostensibly to whisper directly into Marent¡¯s ear, but Oskar was willing to admit his ulterior motives to himself. ¡°Only if you promise the same.¡± Oskar swallowed. He realized that his pulse had sped up as Marent¡¯s hair brushed against his face. Marent let out a shaky breath, and Oskar realized that he had been nervous. ¡°We¡¯ll talk, aye? When Ness isna around, preferably.¡± Marent let out a sharp breath, halfway to a laugh. Oskar felt him nod, and he smiled briefly before getting back to business. ¡°Which side will the exit be on?¡± Oskar whispered, his voice hoarse. He wished he¡¯d thought to take a drink before coming in here. ¡°Once I throw the flames, knowin¡¯ which way to run would be nice.¡± Marent moved again, and Oskar turned his face away, though he didn¡¯t drop his hand yet. Marent¡¯s hair was thick, but soft, with small bits of leaf caught up in the mass of it. He felt Marent¡¯s breath against his cheek as he turned, and was suddenly very glad that the dwarf¡¯s darkvision wouldn¡¯t be able to pick up the blush rising to Oskar¡¯s face.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Ye¡¯ll need t¡¯ make a quarter turn t¡¯ the left, then just run straight. the spot I¡¯ve picked out even has a clear path out t¡¯ where Ness is waiting. the flames should gi¡¯ you enough light to see at least a bit.¡± Marent squeezed Oskar¡¯s shoulder gently. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, ye¡¯ll do well, lad.¡± Marent drew back then, pulling Oskar up, and Oskar dropped his hand with a sigh. Marent took Oskar¡¯s left arm, placing his other hand on Oskar¡¯s back as he led the taller man forward. Oskar tried to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine at the touch, and stepped slowly, as quietly as he could manage. He left his eyes closed ¨C no point in keeping them open. As they drew closer, Oskar could hear the deep breathing that emanated from the large beast. The cave continued to breathe, the air constantly circulating. Sounds just like a bull. I wonder what kind of teeth it has ¨C if it eats meat, probably incisors and canines. At least, I hope it does. If it doesn¡¯t have sharp teeth, when it bites, it¡¯ll hurt more- Oskar cut that line of thought off sharply before he panicked himself, and focused on his own breathing. Slow. Steady. Calm. They stopped, and Marent took Oskar by the hand, raising it and folding back three of Oskar¡¯s fingers. When he withdrew, Oskar was left pointing into the darkness, presumably directly at the sleeping beast. Oskar nodded his understanding. Marent hesitated, and then patted Oskar¡¯s back before moving away, leaving Oskar by himself. For several seconds Oskar could still hear faint sounds as Marent moved ¨C he¡¯d padded his armor, as silence was necessary at the moment, but the dwarf wasn¡¯t nearly as stealthy as Amnestria. Within a moment, the noise faded, and Oskar felt even more lost in the darkness. He focused though, holding his hand steady. He waited, listening to the creature breathing. There was a soft tink from the darkness to Oskar¡¯s left. He tensed, bringing up his power as he began whispering the words to the Sparking Flame spell. A sudden tinkling sound of breaking glass, a grunt and a great heaving movement, and Oskar released the energy. The flame glowed red through his closed eyelids, and Oskar opened his eyes a crack. He¡¯d tailored the spell to shoot the flame out in a long thin line, and it should have caught on the loose, oil splattered hair of the beast. Oskar couldn¡¯t tell if his aim had wavered from where Marent had pointed him, or if the beast had moved. Oskar caught enough of a glimpse in the two seconds of light to see that it hadn¡¯t worked. Marent yelled ¨C he¡¯d be blinded now, the flames killing his darkvision and leaving him vulnerable for several seconds. The plan had been to set the damn beast on fire ¨C that would have provided enough light for Oskar to see his way out, and also for Marent, suddenly deprived of his darkvision, to begin covering Oskar¡¯s retreat. Without that continuing flame, all three of them were on the same level. Except for the minotaur, which was in it¡¯s home turf, ten feet tall, and royally pissed off. Oskar needed to try again to light the beast up. The first spell hadn¡¯t worked, perhaps it wasn¡¯t strong enough? Maybe the oil hadn¡¯t gotten onto the minotaur''s fur. He needed more fire. Aiming wasn¡¯t an issue at the moment. Oskar could clearly hear the beast roaring and thrashing around as it tried to find Marent in the dark. ¡°Move back! Towards the exit, clear the area!¡± Oskar yelled in Dwarven. He wasn¡¯t sure if minotaurs had a spoken language, but he¡¯d bet his entire purse they didn¡¯t speak this one. ¡°I¡¯ll gonna light it up again. An¡¯ cover yer eyes!¡± ¡°Now, lad!¡± Marent yelled, from a bit further to Oskar¡¯s left. Oskar didn¡¯t take the time to question, he simply spoke a word, and hurled a Fireball at the source of the grunting and roaring. The Fireball spell was much more powerful than the Sparking Flame. With Sparking Flame, you could control the heat, intensity, and size of the fire. Casting the spell sent a lazy jet of fire from your outstretched hand. Oskar had tailored his spell for extra hot, but less intense, hoping the added heat would aid in igniting the beast¡¯s fur. It hadn¡¯t worked. With the Fireball, he didn¡¯t have to worry about tailoring anything. The spell was his most powerful offensive option. With a throwing motion, Oskar sent an apple-sized ball of white fire directly at the source of the roaring and snarling. He¡¯d aimed well, and the fireball landed directly in the center of the beast¡¯s chest. Upon impact, the flames expanded to engulf the front of the monster, sending a roaring whoosh of heat and wind throughout the cave. He could see Marent ¨C Marent¡¯s eyes were covered by the arm not holding his hammer, and he was turning away, towards the exit. He called to Oskar, coughing and choking from the smell of burning hair. ¡°Out, now! Hurry!¡± Oskar turned as the beast fell, keening in agony. ¡°Go, I¡¯m righ¡¯ behind ye!¡± Marent ran, still half-blind and doubled over. He was headed somewhat toward the wide tunnel the cavern narrowed into, before becoming a narrow passageway. Oskar sprinted over, shoved him in the right direction, and then turned to look back. The monster was holding a large hammer, easily five feet long with a huge head on the end. As it reared up on it¡¯s knees, flames licking up it¡¯s chest and over it¡¯s face, it bellowed in agony and fear before striking the cave wall with its hammer. The blow rang through the cave like a bell, shaking the entire cavern with an unnatural tremor. Oskar¡¯s feet went out from under him, and he had time to wonder if that hammer was enchanted before the cave started to rumble. Oskar tried to climb to his feet ¨C Marent¡¯s stout form allowed the dwarf to keep his balance, and he didn¡¯t turn as he groped his way out of the cavern and into the sharply turning passage that led out of the cave. The light dimmed drastically, and Oskar glanced back at the minotaur, to see that the beast had fallen on its face, smothering most of the flames before they spread from its chest. Oskar slipped, falling painfully to his knees again as pebbles started to rain down. He looked up, the faint light from the flaming minotaur showed a large crack arcing from one side of the cavern to the other. Oskar threw himself to the side as the entire cave seemed to tilt-- ~~ Oskar took another drink of whiskey, staring blindly into the woods. He noticed that he was idly rubbing at his right leg, along the old scar that spanned his thigh. He balled his hand into a fist, willing himself to keep still. ¡°Th¡¯ beast had some kind o¡¯ enchanted hammer. He slammed it into the wall, and brought the cave down on us. Marent had made his way out, and didna realize I was still inside.¡± Rando was a good listener. He tilted his head as Oskar spoke, his expression conveying interest or surprise at appropriate moments. He didn¡¯t interrupt with questions or comments though. Oskar realized that Rando was probably doing it on purpose ¨C the bard¡¯s manner had put Oskar at ease, and he found himself relaying the story easily. Oskar was silent for a minute, but Rando remained patient, waiting. ¡°This next part is¡­ difficult,¡± Oskar said, shifting in his seat. ¡°I¡¯m sure I had a concussion. It was dark, I was unconscious for some time, and the air wasna movin¡¯ at all. Time passed, and I couldna tell how long I sat there.¡± Oskar could see that Rando had raised his eyebrows, and backtracked. ¡°When the ceilin¡¯ came down, I had tried t¡¯ move next t¡¯ the wall. I canna remember how close to the exit I¡¯d gotten, only that I woke with a splittin¡¯ headache, sitting up against the wall, wi¡¯ a big rock in my lap.¡± The Cave Oskar awoke coughing. He found himself unable to draw a deep breath, so he kept involuntarily jerking in short bursts of air as his body tried to clear the dust from his airways. It hurt. Actually, everything hurt, and the coughing was making most of it worse. His throat was dry as a bone, his eyes watering fiercely from the dust and grit, his head was pounding, and his back was jammed against a protrusion from the rock wall behind him. Worst of all, he couldn¡¯t feel his right leg. This last realization hit Oskar in the midst of his coughing fit, and he felt frantically around in the darkness. He had ended up in a sitting position, back against the wall. There was a large, irregularly shaped rock across his lap, pressing on his torso. His left arm was laying across it, while his right arm was beneath the thing, though not restrained. He could feel jagged edges from where it had presumably broken free from the ceiling. His left leg was trapped against a stalagmite with barely a centimeter of room to shift around in. The right was being pinned down by the boulder. Oskar could barely get his hand in position to feel that the leg was, indeed, still attached, though suspiciously sticky. The rock, and Oskar, were covered in dirt and dust that had presumably settled after the ceiling came down. His coughing fit had eased, so he wormed his hand free, bringing it up to his face and sniffing. Blood. He wondered if the leg was broken. Oskar leaned back against the wall, trying to take in deep breaths and failing. There were spots in his vision, the pitch darkness of the cave notwithstanding. This wouldn¡¯t do ¨C he needed air. His coughing fit and struggles to feel for his legs had left him with heart pounding, gasping for breath. Oskar felt around his body, trying to reach a wand, a sunstick, his dagger, anything at all. His coat had twisted around his body at some point, probably when he dove and rolled for the wall as the ceiling came down. His wand and dagger were in the side of the coat that had twisted behind his body, and were thus completely out of reach. His spellcasting implements, though¡­ He dug his left hand down beside the boulder, feeling around. He found the pocket where he kept potions, and knew that he had a single weak healing potion inside. He tried to reach further, to where he kept his light sources, but the way the boulder was pinning him down kept his arm from getting where it needed to be. He struggled for a moment, the pain in his head spiking alarmingly, before desisting. He rested for a bit, taking slow, shallow breaths. Oskar ran his hands over the boulder pinning him down again, feeling for the edges, sweeping piles of dirt and dust away. The edges extended past his reach, but he could get his arms over the top of it, and also down into his lap with only a bit of struggle. He snaked his hands around the bottom edges of the thing, and heaved. The rock barely moved, only rocking slightly. Pain lanced through Oskar¡¯s head, a bright flash of white almost overbearing in it¡¯s intensity. That has to be a concussion. Wonderful. There was a sudden warmth from the area the rock had been resting on. Blood, gushing forth as he tilted the rock off of himself, the flow ceasing as his strength gave out and the rock painfully settled back down where it had been resting prior to Oskar¡¯s interference. Great. The boulder¡¯s the only thing keepin¡¯ me from bleedin¡¯ out. He knew he needed to get that thing off of him. He had no idea how long he¡¯d been in here, unconscious in the dark. If Amnestria and Marent took too long to get in to him, he¡¯d end up losing that leg. Once he moved the boulder, he¡¯d be able to staunch the bleeding, and pull the edges of the wound together. The potion should close the wound and keep him alive. With luck, it would clear the concussion enough to allow him to cast a spell. He remembered a conversation he¡¯d had with his teacher, almost ten years ago. ¡°Listen to me now, Oskar.¡± Master Moonwhisper lifted a bale of hay from the cart, carrying it towards the barn. Oskar quickly grabbed a second bale and followed. ¡°Your magic can grow into a powerful tool, or weapon, with time. However, as with any tool or weapon, you must remain cautious and respectful of the power you wield. You¡¯ll recall the reason you must train extensively with every spell you learn?¡± ¡°¡¯Every spell requires the utmost of concentration, to guard yer will as well as to be sure yer doin¡¯ it right,¡¯¡± Oskar had recited dutifully. ¡°¡¯Casting a spell wi¡¯out proper concentration can have disastrous consequences.¡¯¡± ¡°Exactly. Can you give me an example of a time when you should not attempt to cast a spell, regardless of how many times you¡¯ve cast it before?¡± Oskar tilted his head to the side, confused. He couldn¡¯t think of a good reason, and wondered if this was a trick question. He set the bale down, stalling for time as he broke the twine and scattered the hay for the sheep. He glanced up eventually, to find his Master staring at him, eyebrow raised. Oskar shook his head, looking down. ¡°You¡¯ve been daydreaming again,¡± Master Moonwhisper sighed. ¡°There are many instances that can be dangerous for a caster to use his magic. The intense concentration required can be impossible to summon when one is suffering from a serious head wound, for example...¡± Oskar only had a few spells left at this point, all of them requiring components kept in his unreachable pocket, save for one. The Sparking Flame spell could be used twice a day, no components required, and he had only used it once. It would only give him a few seconds of light, but he¡¯d be able to see around himself, get his bearings. They wouldn¡¯t be any help to him until he could move the rock and take that potion. Get the rock off his leg, take the potion, and then if it helped his head, he would try to reach the components. Oskar ran his hands over the rock again, stretching to his limits to try to feel how far the thing went. He tried shoving it away from himself, as opposed to lifting it. The rock didn¡¯t move, and the agony spiking from his leg as well as his head caused him to abandon that idea promptly. He rested for a minute, breathing, allowing his heart rate to slow until he felt up to the challenge of trying again. The thing had shifted a bit, the first time. Maybe an inch off of his leg. He wormed his hands back down, stretching and positioning his fingers where he thought they might do the most good. You can do this. Think of all the time you¡¯ve spent drilling with Marent, swinging that staff around and blocking his blows. You¡¯ve got muscles under there somewhere, use them! Oskar took a deep breath, and then another. On the third breath, he heaved again, pushing with everything he had in him. His vision went white again, and he could hear himself yelling with the effort and the pain. Warmth flooded across his lap as the edge of the rock came away from the wound in his leg. It worked. The rock shifted and slid slightly forward, the weight of it taken off of his leg. It clunked to a stop, an edge of it settling solidly between his lower legs, though the bulk of the rock still extended over his lap. Oskar wasted no time; even as his head swam and he began another coughing fit, he was shoving his hand down, fingers scrabbling for the edges of the wound. He felt the skin coming off of his knuckles as he reached, and stretched. He managed to hook his fingers, digging them painfully into the flesh on the far side of the gash. He dragged backwards, pulling the wound closed and clamping down with his palm as hard as he could. The flesh was slick with blood, and he struggled to get a good grip. He could feel the warmth rushing out in pulses that reminded Oskar of the fact that every heartbeat sent another gush of his life out and onto the cold rock of this desolate cave. He managed, somehow. The boulder itself actually helped ¨C the claw he¡¯d formed his hand into as he clamped down was being compressed by the boulder, providing support to the position his fingers were being forced into. Without that, he didn¡¯t know how long he¡¯d have been able to maintain the pressure. He could feel the flow of blood slowing to barely a trickle, and leaned his head back, sighing in relief. He had been so focused on stopping the bleeding that he hadn¡¯t really paid much attention to the fact that the rock had shifted away from his torso, freeing his chest to take deeper breaths. He began to feel the prickling as the blood began to circulate through his leg, and gritted his teeth. He endured the near-painful sensation, waiting until it eased. It was easier now for his left hand to snake along the side of the boulder, down to his pocket. It was a tight fit, with the cave wall a bare inch from his side. He tried to shift his body in the other direction to give himself more room, but his right side was pressed against a wall or a rock, with no room to spare. He worked his fingers around, digging inside for the tiny potion. Oskar couldn¡¯t find the vial at first, enduring a small moment of panic before suddenly feeling the slick glass against his fingers. He pulled it out, carefully drawing the potion up above the boulder. A faint blue glow emanated from the crystal vial, though it wasn¡¯t enough to illuminate anything further than Oskar¡¯s knuckles. Flipping the cap off with his thumb, he downed the swallow of tasteless potion before tossing the vial to the side. The pure magic contained within the vial didn¡¯t wet his mouth and throat, sadly, only drifting out of the bottle like heavy vapor. The act of ¡®drinking¡¯ a potion was the key to activating it. As long as the entire potion passed into a person¡¯s body, it would work. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The magic coursed over him, a faint rush of energy that he could feel spiral down his body. Various cuts, abrasions, and injuries tightened as the flesh knit itself back together, the wound in his leg included. Oskar drew his hand back cautiously. He knew that the potion wouldn¡¯t be able to heal such a massive wound completely. It would be as if he¡¯d rested for several days, the wound closing and scabbing over in the interim. He tore his just-healed knuckles open again on the underside of the boulder, and he rolled his eyes at the irony. Overall, though, the healing potion had reduced his pain slightly, but it couldn¡¯t do anything about the blood loss. The magic of the potion had apparently expended itself on his leg wound, doing nothing for his concussion. He tried for the components anyway, hoping that if he rested a bit, he¡¯d be able to bring his concentration under control regardless of the head wound. It was no use though, the rock hadn¡¯t shifted enough to free the coat from it¡¯s pinioned position. ¡°Dammit,¡± he growled, spurring another coughing fit. He swallowed against the dry dust in his throat, and hoped that Marent had made it out. He had seemed to be moving quickly to the exit when the ceiling began to come down, but he might have stopped or turned at the last moment, waiting for Oskar. The man was nothing if not honorable and self-sacrificing. ¡°Marent!¡± Oskar yelled, spurring another coughing fit. ¡°Marent! Are ¨C you here?¡± Oskar¡¯s call echoed around the cave, and he heard pebbles and loose dirt shifting somewhere. No reply. Marent had made it out. Unless he¡¯s unconscious or dead, or trapped somehow so that he can¡¯t call out. Oskar sighed, leaning back. There was no point in worrying, but he couldn¡¯t keep his thoughts entirely off of the dwarf. They had just barely admitted their feelings to each other, and now this. ¡°I would take it as a great personal favor if you promise to be careful.¡± Oskar sighed, and closed his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered. ~~ Oskar jerked, his entire body spasming in pain as he moved. He gritted his teeth. He must have been unconscious again, or sleeping. He felt around. The rock was still stretched across his lap, not that he¡¯d expected it to go anywhere. The wall was still jutting painfully into his back. His right leg still hurt. His head was still swimming. His left leg was still trapped. His eyes felt dry and sticky, and though he blinked several times, they didn¡¯t clear. He left them closed. He realized suddenly that he hadn¡¯t really thought about the minotaur since he¡¯d awoken the first time. He held still, listening carefully for a long while. The cave was so still and silent that Oskar imagined he could hear the blood rushing through his veins. Something about that bothered Oskar, he supposed the lack of auditory stimuli was subtly affecting his state of mind. He could smell burned hair and blood, and the musky smell of animal. The blood smell was obvious, given the state of Oskar¡¯s leg, but the other smells indicated to him that the minotaur probably hadn¡¯t made it out of the cave. They¡¯d killed it, apparently. Oskar felt no satisfaction at this realization. He only felt tired. He tried to swallow, though his mouth and throat were so dry it was painful. He¡¯d left his pack outside the cave, and could clearly picture the water skins he had just filled that afternoon. He indulged in fantasy for a moment: imagining himself tilting a water skin above his head, the cool, clear water rushing down his throat and trickling through his short beard. The fantasy didn¡¯t distract him as much as he¡¯d hoped it would, only seeming to make everything that much worse. He shifted around, feeling the edges of the boulder again, and checking the state of his leg. The blood had dried completely, leaving his hide pants stiff; he must have been out for hours this time. The rock was still pressed across his lap, though upon further inspection and guesswork, Oskar determined that it must be slanted, leaning against the stalagmite to his left, making contact with the floor in front of him, and solidly pressed against the wall on his right. If he was only a bit stronger, perhaps he¡¯d be able to lift it off of himself, or even push it away. Oskar tilted his head, considering. He¡¯d tried to push the rock before, but it had still been on his leg at that point, and the pain had made it impossible. Now that it wasn¡¯t actually on his leg any more¡­ Oskar re-positioned his arms, bracing his hands against the rock, elbows against the wall behind him. He leaned his head back, breathing deeply, and then began to push. The rock moved slightly, and Oskar heaved harder. He was gritting his teeth, and groaning through the pain and effort. He tried several times, and though the rock shifted slightly, it rocked back to it¡¯s original position every time without fail. There had to be something in front of him that was blocking it. He considered, but decided that he had nothing to lose. After allowing himself some time to rest, he concentrated, focusing his will. It was incredibly hard. It seemed that his Master had been right about trying to concentrate on magic when you had a head wound. The effort required left Oskar dizzy and nauseated, and he needed to rest several times before he succeeded. In the end, however, he managed to send a bright gout of flame straight up at the ceiling, concentrating on maintaining it at a low heat, for longer than he usually did. The flame lasted almost ten seconds, long enough for Oskar to see the cave he was trapped in. The minotaur lay dead to his left, the huge hammer fallen in front of it. The fire hadn¡¯t burned it too badly, it seemed that a falling rock had brained it, leaving the thing lying in a pool of blood centered on it¡¯s head. The cave-in had collapsed the rock ceiling in mostly large, flat breakdown blocks. One slab had fallen at the end of the wide tunnel that led to the narrow passage, to the exit, effectively creating a wall that sealed shut the tunnel that led out. Smaller breakdown blocks, dirt, and pebbles mounded up around the base of the slab, sealing around the edges. The rock in Oskar¡¯s lap was indeed wedged against a crack in the floor. He would have to lift it at least six inches to get the edge over the top, to get it where he could push it away from himself. The flame died, and Oskar was left in darkness. Oskar tried again to move the rock. He pushed, and heaved, and yelled, screaming his frustration until his voice broke and he was left coughing and weak. He rested briefly, and then tried again. ~~ Oskar woke again. He hadn¡¯t remembered falling unconscious. He supposed the effort of trying to shift the rock, combined with his probable concussion, had knocked him out. Maybe his body had done it on purpose, to keep his stupidity from injuring it any further. He knew that it was ill advised, to say the least, to exert yourself when you have a concussion. Unfortunately, he didn¡¯t have a choice. Oskar was terribly thirsty. He wondered how long he¡¯d been in here. Six hours, at the very least. Probably more like twelve. Where the hell were Ness and Marent? They should have made some progress getting him out by now. He should be able to hear them digging through the rockfall. There was no chance that either Marent or Amnestria had abandoned him ¨C he¡¯d known Ness since he was a child, and she considered him one of her closest friends. As for Marent¡­ Oskar rubbed his hands roughly over his face in irritation. The blood from his head wound had coated half of his face, soaking into his beard as well. As he¡¯d lain unconscious, the dust from the cave-in had settled over him, sticking to his skin as the blood dried. He¡¯d ignored it before now, but at the moment, the itching was driving him crazy. He sat in silence, waiting. His uninjured leg began to cramp, and he gritted his teeth. He could do nothing other than flex the muscles repeatedly trying to ease it, and he resorted to trying to rock the boulder again, in the hopes that he could move the leg enough to ease the pain. The pain once again lanced through his head, and he was unable to shift the rock enough to help. ¡°Fuck! Fucking ¨C gods dammit all ¨C FUCK!¡± He pounded his fists on the top of the rock in a fury as he yelled, voice cracking as it echoed around the cave. His eyes burned, and he felt like he should be crying in frustration at this point. ¡°Too dehydrated,¡± Oskar told himself as he calmed. His voice was barely audible to his ears, cracked and hoarse. The cramp had begun to ease slightly, though the muscle was still painful. ¡°Canna waste the water on somethin¡¯ so trivial.¡± His thoughts drifted as he waited. He had no way to judge the passage of time. Nothing ever changed, only his thirst and pain grew. He felt like he needed to piss, though he felt minimal pressure from his bladder. It was an odd sensation, of needing to, yet not needing to. ¡°Dehydration,¡± he told himself, barely a whisper. He cleared his throat again, though it didn¡¯t help. He was miserable enough to not want to add even the slight discomfort of sitting in a puddle, so he managed to hold it in with little difficulty. ¡°Dehydration¡¯ll do that t¡¯ a body. What else, though? Muscle cramps, aye. Lightheadedness. Dry mouth.¡± Oskar sighed. He tried to distract himself with thoughts of the book he¡¯d been reading, but had trouble recollecting where he¡¯d left off. The air seemed thicker somehow. ¡°Confusion. Cognitive impairment.¡± His voice was nearly gone, the words coming out in broken bits. He took a deep breath, feeling again that odd sensation that the air was more dense. He shook his head, stray locks of hair falling across his temple. He suddenly remembered earlier, as he¡¯d been crouched beside Marent in the cave. He could feel air moving past his face ¨C the cave seemed to have a constant slight breeze of fresh air rushing through it, as if it was breathing. A lock of hair had escaped his braid and fallen across his temple, the wind was causing it to flutter slightly. The air had continued to move the entire time, now that Oskar thought about it. No longer, now the air was still. It wasn¡¯t his imagination, or some side-effect of the dehydration. The cave-in had sealed Oskar in completely, cutting off the breeze. Oskar¡¯s air was running out. Rage Oskar sat in silence, waiting. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, since he was drifting in and out of consciousness, though he tried to judge by his thirst. ¡°A full day, maybe.¡± Oskar whispered almost silently. His head pounded with every heartbeat. He was thirsty. He¡¯d never been this thirsty. The blood loss would have contributed to the dehydration from the time he¡¯d spent in the dry, dusty cave with no water. He knew that headache was another symptom, but it wasn¡¯t as if he could feel it over the pain from the head injury. The silence was boring down on Oskar like a heavy blanket. He found himself moving, shifting around under his rock simply for the slight, nearly silent rustling his coat provided. He still couldn¡¯t hear anything else. Amnestria and Marent weren¡¯t coming. ¡°They¡¯ve left me,¡± Oskar whispered to himself. ¡°How long did Marent spend in the mines? If anyone can get through a rockfall¡­ they just gave up. They left me.¡± Oskar slammed his fist against the wall. It felt satisfying, so he did it again, and again. ¡°Ness, yer my best friend! How could you just leave me!¡± His fist smacked the wall again, and he could feel blood begin to flow down his wrist. His throat felt on fire, and he realized that he was practically screaming. It was getting harder to breathe, his chest heaving for air, dragging in great breaths but still not getting enough oxygen. His heart and his head were pounding, and he could see the spots at the corners of his vision again. Stop exertin yerself. Ye¡¯ll run out of air faster, if you keep this up. ¡°It doesna matter,¡± Oskar cried, throwing his head back and laughing ruefully. ¡°They¡¯re no comin¡¯ for me, what am I holdin¡¯ on for?¡± Maybe they¡¯re dead. There¡¯s no use bein¡¯ angry. You know they¡¯d be here if they could. ¡°Hallucinations,¡± Oskar wheezed, still shaking with laughter. ¡°I¡¯m talkin¡¯ to meself now. Next it¡¯ll be-¡± Oskar stopped laughing suddenly, holding his breath. He listened, cocking his head to the side and straining his ears. Was that... He needed to breathe, and took in another lungful of the thick air. He held it, listening intently. There was a scraping sound, metal on stone. It wasn¡¯t coming from the right, where the cave exit had to be. It came from deeper in the cave. There was a sudden snorting sound to the left, and Oskar¡¯s head whipped around to stare blindly into the blackness. A whuffling, as if a large beast was sniffing, testing the air for scent. ¡°No,¡± Oskar whispered to himself. ¡°No, no, no NO!¡± Oskar began heaving at the rock in his lap, ignoring the blinding pain shooting through his skull. He screamed, feeling a sharp pain tear through his throat as his voice gave out completely. He heaved and struggled against the boulder, panicking in the dark as he imagined the huge beast waking up, scenting him out, and killing him slowly. He felt anger bubbling up, pure rage at the thought that he was forced to sit still and just wait on the thing to make it¡¯s way over to him. A prickling sensation rolled up his back, and neck, and over his scalp. He beat and pounded on the boulder, screaming silently as red seemed to spread across his vision - ~~ ¡°An¡¯ then the minotaur seemed to wake up.¡± Oskar finished off his flask. Rando started in surprise. He had been clutching his lyre tightly throughout Oskar¡¯s tale, riveted to his words. ¡°Seemed to, I said. Looking back later on, it seemed obvious that the concussion, blood loss, dehydration, isolation...¡± Oskar trailed off, thinking. ¡°Aye, the isolation an¡¯ fear probably had a lot t¡¯ do with it. I imagined it. the air had been goin¡¯ bad on me, an¡¯ my brain was starved fer oxygen. I started t¡¯ panic. Then I got angry at the thought that I just had t¡¯ sit there and wait for it t¡¯ make it¡¯s way over t¡¯ me. the last thing I remember is noticin¡¯ that I could see red. For the first time in over a day, I saw something other than blackness.¡± ¡°Your eyes,¡± Rando said quietly. ¡°When the vessels burst and your eyes fill with blood.¡± ¡°Aye. Always happens before I rage. Sometimes I can control it, fight it back, but the eyes are the first sign. the smell comes next, then the chains.¡± ¡°The smell?¡± Rando seemed startled, and tentatively sniffed the air. ¡°What smell?¡± ¡°Ye wouldna ha¡¯ been close enough to notice. It¡¯s hard to, in open air. Just before the chains burst out, you can smell the sea. Briny salt water. the chains drip water as well, though it¡¯s hard t¡¯ tell, what wi¡¯ them flailin¡¯ so.¡± Oskar shrugged. ¡°Does that tell you anythin¡¯ about my lineage?¡± Rando shook his head, his eyes wide. ¡°Well, nay matter. I¡¯ve told you that I couldna remember what happened while I was off my head at first, aye? Well, I came to again, standing before a tiny crack in a wall. Light, and fresh air were pourin¡¯ in...¡± ~~ Oskar stood in the darkness, heaving for breath. His head was still swimming, not as badly as before, though the pain was worse. He could feel fresh trickles of blood making their way down his face, and he was holding something large. As soon as he realized this, the weight of the object in his hands dragged his arms down. The metal head of the great warhammer slammed down onto the ground, clanking loudly. Oskar staggered, his right leg fell out from beneath him, and he went down hard on his knees. He knelt there, breathing raggedly. The fog that had slowly crept over his mind over the course of hours as he began to run out of air was lifting rapidly, and he suddenly realized that he had somehow gotten himself free. He leaned forward, lifting his face to the stream of bright sunlight pouring through the crack in the wall. There were chunks of the smooth cave surface missing, and he could see that someone had battered the wall with some large object. He glanced aside at the hammer, and then over his shoulder. The light was coming in at just the right angle to shine back to the far side of the cave, and Oskar could see that the minotaur still lay where it had earlier. Dust was still coating it¡¯s form, but it¡¯s head was gone, smashed to a pulp. Oskar looked back at the hammer. He could see traces of fresh blood around the edges of the huge chunk of inscribed metal. Magical runes. The thing had been enchanted. He tried to puzzle out the meaning, but only managed two runes. Earth, and Sunder. Oskar tried to think through it logically. It was easier to think logically now. The minotaur must have known what the hammer could do. That¡¯s why it had struck the cave wall as they ran. It hadn¡¯t wanted them to escape. The hammer had brought down the ceiling, killing the beast in the process. Oskar must have somehow, in his panic, managed to lift the boulder off of himself, find the hammer in the dark, smash the minotaur''s skull, and find his way back to the rock wall blocking the cave exit. A hammer enchanted to sunder earth and stone would be the ideal tool to break oneself out of a cave-in. He knelt there, breathing. He didn¡¯t try to think anymore, he didn¡¯t try to plan, he didn¡¯t worry. He didn¡¯t feel fear, or panic, or anger. He just breathed.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Time passed. The light changed, drifting over the walls. It grew dimmer, and Oskar knew that the sun was passing over the mountain. Some time in the afternoon. Two days then, since he¡¯d been trapped. Or maybe just one, he couldn¡¯t be sure. He wondered why he could see light. The tunnel leading from the main cavern of the cave had twisted back and forth, leaving Oskar and Marent in complete darkness as they moved quietly into the cavern. At this point in the cave, it should still be pitch black. He heard noises from outside. Sounds. Words. Someone was speaking. Someone was speaking! The voices grew louder, approaching the cave. Oskar scrabbled up, gaining his feet only to fall forward against the rock wall. His leg was incapable of bearing his weight. A deep, gruff voice. Another, higher in pitch. ¡°This way! I¡¯m telling you-¡± ¡°Nay lass, it was here, by the pile of rubble.¡± Marent! That was Marent¡¯s voice. Amnestria too, they had come back! Whereever they had gone, they came back! Oskar tried to call out, but his voice was still gone. He fought to clear his throat, to work up some saliva to coat his dusty throat. ¡°The entire fucking mountainside is a pile of rubble! I can see our tracks from before, it¡¯s-¡± ¡°We went back and forth over this entire area, of course ye¡¯d see our tracks here. They¡¯re over there too, go look!¡± ¡°Stop it, both of you.¡± A higher voice, tiny somehow, though it rose above the argument. The gnome, the druid they¡¯d met a few days ago. ¡°I told you, I only have one casting of this spell. I can break down a good portion of the wall, but you must decide where. Stop arguing, and think. Where is the entrance?¡± That was why Oskar could see light. The mountain must have been unstable, so when the minotaur had struck the cave with the hammer, it had not only collapsed the cave, it sent the entire damn mountainside down. It was a wonder the others had made it to safety. That meant that at this point, they must be beyond just a few feet of stone. He just needed to let them know where to cast whatever spell the druid was speaking of, or she¡¯d waste it on an area where the stone was too thick. He pounded his fist on the wall, then began slapping it, hoping that the sound would carry further. He heard low conversation from the other side. They hadn¡¯t heard him. He glanced at the hammer, but there was no way he could lift that again. He tried anyway, failing. He tried calling out, yelling, straining. His dry throat refused to work, and he pounded the wall again in frustration. His leg was shaking hard now, he felt as if he was about to collapse. The voices moved further away. Oskar felt panic rising up again. If the druid wasted her spell, she¡¯d have to wait until she prayed tomorrow morning to cast it again. Oskar didn¡¯t think he had that long. He ground his teeth, and then had an idea. He bit down on his tongue fiercely, feeling blood begin to fill his mouth. He waited a second, and then swallowed a full mouthful, only gagging slightly. He felt the warm blood coating his dry throat, soothing the burn. The taste of the blood had stimulated his mouth enough that a small bit of saliva was being produced now, and he swallowed again. Oskar drew in a deep breath, tilted his face up to the small crack in the wall, and screamed. ¡°MARENT!¡± He felt his voice break again, and a wave of nausea rolled over him as pain spiked through his head. He collapsed, falling against the wall, coughing silently. He was done, he had nothing left. He could feel himself spiraling down into darkness. The wall seemed to fall away as Oskar leaned against it, sending him tumbling forward. A bright wash of light flowed into the cave, blinding him as he curled in on himself, still coughing. Arms snaked around him, strong hands pulling him up, holding him. Shouts, everything was a jumble. His vision had begun to shrink around the edges, but at this sudden rush of activity and noise, it jarred him back to consciousness again. He was pulled to a sitting position, and his head fell weakly back onto a fluffy black pillow. He looked up. He was leaning against Marent¡¯s chest. The dwarf was looking down at him in alarm. He was speaking, shouting actually, though Oskar couldn¡¯t make out the words for some reason. Movement, a sudden wash of energy over his body. The druid must have healed him. His head cleared slightly, and he was able to hear. ¡°-severely dehydrated.¡± A waterskin was pressed to his mouth, and he found the energy somewhere to lean forward, drinking greedily. The waterskin was pulled away, and even though he knew it wasn¡¯t smart to drink too much, too fast, he couldn¡¯t help but reach out for it again. ¡°Nay lad, you canna have too much just yet. We¡¯ll gi¡¯ you more in a moment.¡± Marent grasped his arms, folding them across his chest and holding him firmly. Oskar couldn¡¯t help but notice just how nice this felt, and he leaned back, not entirely due to exhaustion. Ness was there, leaning over him. ¡°Dammit Oskar, you scared the hell out of me! What the hell happened?¡± Oskar opened his mouth, croaking a bit, but the druid shushed him, giving him a bit more water as she spoke. ¡°Let him rest. It doesn¡¯t matter right now. The only thing that matters is getting water into him, slowly. Then a bit of food. I¡¯ll send my hawk out to try to snag a rabbit, and we¡¯ll get some soup started. Amnestria, go set up a campfire near the lake. Marent and I will tend to your friend, and get him down the mountain.¡± Amnestria protested, beginning to argue with the druid. Ness was always used to being in charge, and didn¡¯t quite care for the other woman taking control of the situation. Oskar could see the rebellion in her eyes, but she glanced down at him, and relented. Leaning forward, she kissed his forehead gently. He could see tears brimming in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re not dead,¡± she said thickly, standing up and making her way carefully down the mountainside. She didn¡¯t look back. Oskar gripped weakly at Marent¡¯s arm, and the dwarf looked down at him. He still held Oskar gently, but firmly. Marent¡¯s eyes were bloodshot, his hair a tangled mess, and it looked as if the braids in his beard had begun to unravel. The druid had moved off, calling a large hawk down from the sky. She spoke to the bird as if it were a person, and the animal launched itself back into the air. Marent had raised an eyebrow in inquiry, and Oskar swallowed again. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered. ¡°What? Why are you sorry? It wasna yer fault th'' mountain came down.¡± Marent furrowed his brows suspiciously. ¡°Was it?¡± Oskar shook his head weakly. ¡°No. Broke my promise. T¡¯ be careful.¡± Marent shook his head slowly. He tightened his arms around Oskar a bit, careful not to squeeze too hard. ¡°It¡¯s all righ¡¯ lad. Don¡¯t dwell on that. If it makes ye feel better, I broke my promise too. Slipped and fell right on my arse as I was running. I¡¯ve got a bruise the size of a melon...¡± ~~ ¡°An¡¯ then the druid cast a spell to open up the cave wall. She healed me, and Marent and Amnestria dragged me back home. I was still weak and shaky, an¡¯ Marent decided that we all needed a vacation after that.¡± Oskar sighed, stretching his arms over his head. ¡°I eventually told him what had happened in the cave, and he recognized it as a Berserker rage. He convinced me t¡¯ let him train me t¡¯ fight better, build up my muscles. Made me armor out of the minotaur¡¯s hide.¡± ¡°Really? This armor?¡± Rando leaned forward, peering at the hide armor that Oskar wore, and the fur mantle draped across his shoulders. He raised a hand, restraining himself at the last second. ¡°Aye, the fire didna burn away all the fur.¡± Oskar glanced down. ¡°We paid for the enchantments wi¡¯ the money from sellin¡¯ the hammer. It was far to big for any o¡¯ us to use.¡± Rando¡¯s eyes darted towards the hammer that clung magically to Oskar¡¯s back. Oskar saw the look. ¡°Marent trained me for awhile, and then sent me away t¡¯ an old family friend. Marent¡¯s father made me that while I was gone.¡± ¡°This was the teacher who knew about Bloodragers?¡± Rando asked. He had been engrossed in the story, and his eyes darted back and forth as he processed the information. ¡°You said his name was Dorin?¡± ¡°Ye¡¯ll leave him out o¡¯ it.¡± Oskar¡¯s voice had hardened, and Rando stiffened, turning to look slowly at the suddenly intense man beside him. ¡°He values his privacy, and abhors unannounced visitors. I owe the man, and wouldna be pleased if I found out that ye¡¯d shown up on his doorstep.¡± Rando shook his head quickly. ¡°No, of course not! I don¡¯t even remember the man¡¯s name. Or was it a woman? Doesn¡¯t matter, I don¡¯t remember. Not important.¡± Oskar snorted. ¡°Aye, my teacher knew about Bloodragers. It took some time, but between the two o¡¯ us, we puzzled out how to work my magic into the rages. I could go on at length about that, but it¡¯s technical, and detailed, and it¡¯s late.¡± Oskar rose to his feet. ¡°You¡¯re next on watch rotation, aye? G¡¯nite to ye, then.¡± Rando watched as Oskar disappeared silently into the tent he shared with Marent. He didn¡¯t mind that by the end of his watch he would have stayed up half the night. He¡¯d gotten his story.