ã€ŠReforgedã€‹


 Chapter 1

    Cold.

    An enveloping cold that assaulted his senses like millions of needles. A cold so intense that it forced the breath from his lungs and shocked him into consciousness. The cold was his first memory like he had been birthed from an icy womb. Frigid water assaulted his eyes as he forced them open to reveal that he was surrounded by inky blackness.

    He opened his mouth to scream in frustration, but the ice cold water rushed down his throat, choking him. Enraged, he thrashed for the surface, but his limbs felt heavy. They had been numbed by the cold. No, it wasn¡¯t just the cold. Something was encumbering him. He flailed his arms about in an effort to fling whatever was clinging to him off, but it was to no avail. Whatever it was that was dragging him down was attached tightly to his limbs.

    With great willpower, the man forced his murderous rage to subside, somehow aware that it would do him no good. He cleared his mind and attempted to think logically. First, he touched his hands to his body. His hands, like his body were encased in a hard shell. While he was exploring the carapace that encased his body, the current sent him crashing headfirst into something hard. His body went limp, and the man saw stars. Reaching for his head, he realized that it too was encased in the same hard substance. He felt himself sink as his body relaxed and attempted to thrash for the surface again when his feet brushed across something hard.

    It was the floor of wherever he was. He cast the distractions out of his mind and focused his mind again. How could he use this? He relaxed, allowed himself to sink to the bottom and coiled his legs like springs. He was caught in a swift current and getting proper purchase was difficult, but he managed to propel himself upwards and gasped when his head broke the surface.

    He gulped in the air and took stock of his surroundings. He was somewhere dark. A tunnel perhaps. He smashed into another rock and had the wind knocked out of him when the stream carried him around a corner, bringing a distant point of light into view. Then, he became aware of the sound of distant rumbling just before whatever it was that encumbered him dragged him back below the surface.

    Knowing now what he had to do to stay alive, at least in the short term, the man gathered his strength as he allowed himself to sink back down. He then realized that the current was growing stronger. When he propelled himself to the surface again, he saw that the point of light was now nearer and that the sound of rumbling was growing louder. His eyes adjusted to the light, and he could now see that he was fast approaching the mouth of a cave.

    He was dragged under again, but the water had grown shallower, and he could breach the surface just by bouncing off his toes. However, he couldn¡¯t see what lay beyond the mouth of the cave. The swift current and the rumbling that had grown into the roar had triggered a sense of dread for reasons he did not understand.

    He decided that this was the time to trust his instincts. He let the current drag him along for a moment before gathering his strength and leaping off the floor with all his might. To his surprise, he managed to propel almost half his body out of the water, and when his brain pieced together what his eyes were seeing beyond the mouth of the cave, he understood where his sense of dread was coming from.

    He could see treetops in the distance, far below where he was. That, combined with the roaring sound meant that he was about to be carried over a waterfall. He knew he had to get out of this stream. Fortunately for him, it continued to narrow as it approached the mouth. However, that also meant that the current was growing stronger, propelling him forward at an ever increasing speed.

    The man attempted to bounce his way off the bottom of the stream the side, but once there, found that he was moving too quickly to haul himself out until he managed to grab onto a rocky outcropping. He felt the muscles and tendons in his arms strain as he fought the current and came to a complete stop. He gasped from the exertion and took a moment to gather his strength.

    With a gargantuan effort, he managed to haul himself onto the rocks and out of the water. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he searched his memory for a clue as to who he was and what he was doing here. However, no matter how hard he racked his brain, his earliest memory was the cold of the water.

    When he had the strength, the man rolled himself onto his back and looked down at his arms. He saw that they were encased in steel and assumed that was the case for the rest of his body. What was its purpose? He attempted to sit upright but found that he lacked the strength. He would have to stay still for a little while to allow his body to recover. Then what?

    First things first. He had to find a way out of this cave. Then, look for his own kind. What was his kind? Perhaps taking a look at himself would jog his memory. Curiosity gave him a surge of strength and he gingerly got to his feet. Like a newborn foal, he gingerly took his first steps on unsteady feet. However, it was too soon, and he staggered, almost falling back into the stream before he steadied himself with the aid of a nearby stalagmite.

    Carefully, he inched towards the stream¡¯s edge, being extra mindful of his footing. Once there, he craned his neck over the water and peered at his reflection. Initially, he was shocked to see a hulking figure that was silver in colour from head to toe staring back at him. Great horns sprouted from his head that bore a malevolent face that was contorted into a mask of rage.

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    Slowly, the man reached for one of his horns and felt a twinge of despair when he saw the figure in the water do the same, eliminating any doubt that it was his reflection. He touched the horn before tugging on it, causing it to tilt. Realizing he was wearing a helmet, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then, confusion. Why was he relieved? Perhaps subconsciously, he had an idea of what he should look like, though when he thought about it, nothing came to mind.

    He attempted to pull his helmet off but found that it was secured by a chinstrap. His fingers were numb from the cold but eventually, he worked it loose. He pulled the helmet off his head and inspected it in the hopes of finding a clue as to his identity. Gazing upon the grotesque face chiselled into the mask filled him with an inexplicable sense of revulsion. Without thinking, he hurled the helmet with all his strength. It struck the opposite side of the cave with a clang before landing in the stream.

    Despite how cold he was, the man felt a bead of perspiration roll down the side of his head, but he felt a sense of frustration that the helmet¡¯s visage had stirred strong emotions in him, but no tangible memories.

    The man shook his head and decided he had rested long enough. The next thing he would do was get his bearings. Slowly, the man made his way towards the mouth of the cave. Once there, he saw that the stream he had just been in fed into a small lake roughly a hundred feet below. A forest surrounded the lake and standing in a clearing further in land was a village consisting of several small buildings clustered around a large manor.

    The man turned his gaze up and frowned. Across the entire breadth of his view was another cliff, and hundreds of feet above the forest was a stone ceiling that radiated a soft yellow light. They appeared to be inside a giant dome shaped cavern that was roughly eight miles across. Something about that was strange, but he couldn¡¯t tell what. Frustrated at his lack of knowledge, he turned his attention down. As far as he could tell, the cave seemed to open up onto a cliff face that was completely sheer and smooth. Climbing down was out of the question, and something told him jumping would be a bad idea.

    He turned around and peered back into the gloom of the cave. He¡¯d have to go back in. Besides, he¡¯d come from somewhere in there. He decided to backtrack and see where he came from before he plunged into the stream.

    The cave was dark, and the footing slippery, obliging the man to place his hand on the rockface to steady himself as he walked upstream. After walking for several minutes, the ledge running along the stream ended abruptly. The only way upstream was to swim against the current. The man craned his neck and peered into the gloom. Water appeared to trickle in from above, but in the darkness, he could not make out its source, nor could he see this part of the chamber¡¯s roof. A dead end.

    Despair crept into his heart. Was jumping from the cave mouth into certain death his only choice? As he weighed his options, a strange scent caught his attention. It was sickly sweet and deeply unpleasant. He sniffed the air. The scent was coming from the other side of the stream. He gave the stream a look of disdain and looked around. Seeing no other option, he took a deep breath before plunging back into the icy cold water.

    Using the bouncing technique from earlier, he made it to the opposite side of the stream well before he was swept out of the mouth of the cave and hauled himself out feeling very much like a drowned cat. As he picked himself up, he vowed to himself that he would never go swimming again.

    The man raised his arm to steady himself against the cave¡¯s wall and felt the steel around his forearm slip. He frowned and held his arm up to the light to examine it. It appeared that the steel enveloping it was held in place by a leather strap. For the first time, it occurred to him that the metal he was encased in could be removed like the helmet, and he cursed himself roundly. The helmet had been heavy, and so too, it stood to reason was the steel he was encased in. Taking it off would have made his swim much easier. He was wearing armour! Looking back, it seemed so obvious. There was no time to dwell on that, though, as he caught a glimpse of an opening in the cavern¡¯s rock wall.

    His instincts told him what lay beyond could be dangerous, and that there was safety to be had in being clad in steel. The opening led him into a passageway that appeared to be artificially made. Once he entered, the sickly sweet smell grew stronger and something in his mind told him that it was the stench of decay.

    Something in the back of his mind told him he should move quietly, but it proved an impossible feat in his sodden armour that rattled and creaked as he moved. After he rounded a corner in the passageway, a flickering light came into view. Then, he heard them.

    Voices. Low and guttural, at least three different speakers communicating in a language he couldn¡¯t understand. As he approached, the voices ceased, and his pulse quickened. They had heard him coming.

    One of the shouted something. Though he didn¡¯t understand the words, it was clear that it was a challenge. The man didn¡¯t reply, and moments later, a figure came hurtling towards him. It was a head shorted than he was but almost as broad at the shoulder. It had a tusked face and was covered in green skin. His eyes were then drawn to the scimitar that gleamed in its hand.

    There was a savage glee on the creature¡¯s face as it charged towards the man and held its weapon up high over its head, leaving no doubt in the man¡¯s mind as to its intentions. As the creature brought its weapon down, the man felt strangely calm. His body seemed to move on its own as he sidestepped the creature¡¯s clumsy blow and punched it square in the face with a gauntleted fist. The creature¡¯s momentum dramatically increased the impact, and it let out a grunt as it flipped backwards before crashing to the ground.

    The man looked up from the green skinned creature¡¯s pulverized face and wondered what had just happened. His body had moved on his own. A shrill, high pitched shriek echoed down the passageway, breaking him out of his stupor and he looked up to see a pair of the creature¡¯s companions looking at him, the fear was clear on their faces as they stared at him. Slowly, the man reached down and closed his hand around the hilt of the fallen creature¡¯s weapon. Ge found great comfort in holding the weapon. It was as though he had been reunited with a part of him that he had just realized was missing.

    Upon seeing him pick up the weapon, the two creatures retreated hastily. The man followed at a relaxed pace. Then the sound of drums started from somewhere further down the passageway followed by more shrieks. His heart began to thump pleasantly. Blood surged through his veins, and his muscles quivered in anticipation. Battle was about to be joined, and the corners of the man¡¯s lips curled up into a smile. He had discovered something about himself. He was a warrior.

 Chapter 2

    The warrior walked confidently around a corner and emerged in a large room. It appeared to be a dining hall that was dominated by a pair of large tables and illuminated by braziers scattered haphazardly around the room. Platters of half rotting meat were strewn across the tables, and the man crinkled his nose at the stench. On a raised platform nearby stood a large, open chest that was overflowing with gold coins. The warrior wasn¡¯t concerned with such things and gave it only a passing glance.

    He was more concerned about the plates of decaying meat. From the amount of food lying around, he could tell that there could easily be scores of the creatures living here, and he had just marched brazenly into their nest. The guttural sounds of their voices came from a larger passageway that connected to the dining room followed by the clanking of metal. The sounds of an impending battle. The warrior licked his lips in anticipation. All other thoughts passed from his mind as he tightened his grip around the hilt of his weapon.

    The first greenskin to enter the dining hall was taller than the warrior, and bulkier. It carried a long sword that looked comically small in its hand and was clad in ill fitting armour that looked to be cobbled together from several disparate sets. It let out a roar as it thundered into the room while other, smaller greenskinned creatures swarmed in behind it.

    Wanting to create space for them to fight, the warrior used his free hand to flip a table, which crushed a pair of the smaller greenskins as it crashed against the wall. A stunned silence descended over the dining hall momentarily as the creatures were left dumbstruck by the violent the display of strength, and none was more surprised than the warrior himself.

    The large greenskin was the first to recover and let out a defiant roar before charging. The warrior was unafraid and stood his ground as the huge creature closed the distance. The creature raised its shoulder as it approached. It was counting on its armour and its bulk to absorb the warrior¡¯s first hit. However, the warrior saw through its plan and sidestepped its clumsy charge easily before kicking the creature¡¯s feet out from under it as it lumbered past.

    The creature stumbled and fell, and the warrior waited for it to pick itself up before landing a savage blow on the crown of its head, splitting its head in two. The warrior¡¯s stolen scimitar was in poor condition and snapped when it struck the creature¡¯s gorget. He worked quickly to prise his weapon from the creature¡¯s still twitching neck and looked up to see its underlings looking at him in horror.  There were perhaps twenty of them in all. He saw the fear in their eyes and knew they would flee at the first provocation.

    Taking slow deliberate steps, he walked towards the large passageway. The greenskinned creatures in his path fell over one another in their haste to make way. However, once he reached the mouth of the passageway, he turned around. He had a taste for blood, and like a shipwrecked sailor, he wouldn¡¯t be satisfied with the small sip he¡¯d just had.

    The smaller greenskins quickly realized his intentions and charged the warrior, seemingly understanding that their only hope for survival was to overwhelm him with their numbers. The warrior skewered the first one through the belly with his longsword, and with its thrashing body still impaled on his weapon, he swung it at the second, cutting it in half at the shoulder. A third had its face caved in by his gauntleted fist.

    Then, the red mist descended. The warrior fully immersed himself in the heat of battle. He swung his weapon and when it broke, he swung his fists until he could grab another from the hands of a fallen foe. By the time he came to his senses, he was the only one standing in a room full of broken bodies.

    Upon realizing that none of his foes remained breathing, he let out a roar of frustration. Slaughtering the greenskins had posed no challenge, which left him feeling like he had been deprived of something valuable. He cursed their inadequacy as he looked around the dining hall for any survivors, like a starving dog trying to sniff out a final crumb. As he did, he caught a glimpse of himself in a tarnished silver platter.

    His face and armour were covered in gore and viscera, and he had a maniacal look on his face that broke him out of his trance. He allowed the crude axe he had claimed to fall from his grasp and looked down at his hands. They too were slick with the foul black blood of his enemies. Could this be what he was? A blood thirsty butcher? For some reason, that prospect turned his stomach.

    He heard a gasp from behind him and turned around. Standing further down the hallway was a pair of greenskins. One of them let out a high pitched shriek and was about to charge until its companion grabbed it by the shoulder and shouted at it in their foul, incomprehensible language. The creature saw its slaughtered kin and its eyes widened. A heartbeat later, both creatures turned around and took to their heels.

    The warrior¡¯s first impulse was to pursue them and slaughter them like the vermin they were, but he held himself back. This was not who he was¡­ or if it was, it was not who he wanted to be. These creatures, whatever they were, no longer posed a threat to him, and with luck, if he kept up with them, they would lead him to a way out of this lair.

    As he set off after the fleeing greenskins, he came across a battered mace and paused. He was afraid of what he had become when he slaughtered those creatures, but at the same time realized that they had attacked him first. It would be foolish to blunder through their lair unarmed. Reluctantly he picked the weapon up and continued after the fleeing pair.

    The lair appeared to have once been a crypt before the greenskins moved in. Smashed and defaced sarcophagi lined the alcoves on either side of the underground passageways. Several times, the passageway branched off, but the warrior was able to keep track of his quarry using their panicked footsteps.

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    The passageway grew steeper as he pursued the greenskins deeper into their lair until he came across a flight of spiral stone stairs. A small window had been carved out of the wall nearby, offering a view of the forest. He could see the cave mouth and waterfall from before and saw that a large, bearded face had been carved around it in such a way that it looked like it was spitting water from its mouth.

    He heard the creatures shriek followed by the sound of metal clattering against stone further down the stairs, and the man frowned before descending after them and soon found them entangled with one another on a landing further down. One of them had a broken neck, and the other had its leg bent the wrong way at its knee and was struggling to free itself from under its dead companion¡¯s body.

    The creature hissed and spat as the warrior approached. It was obviously in distress, and the warrior couldn¡¯t help but feel sorry to see it in such a state. It would not be able to climb up or down the stairs in its state and its option was a slow death from either starvation or dehydration. The creature whimpered and raised its arms in a feeble attempt to protect itself. The warrior gently pushed its arms aside and brought his mace down on its head, giving it a quick death. Unlike before, the warrior derived no satisfaction from taking this life. It was an act of mercy.

    He took a deep breath before looking over the side of the stairs. There was still a long way down to ground level, and now he had no guides. As he walked down the stairs, he found it strange that despite the day¡¯s ordeals, he was not out of breath. But why did he find that strange? He felt his frustrations mount as he attempted to make sense of it. His knowledge of the world and of himself was patchy at best, but he knew one thing. The prospect of the rage fuelled berserker he had become back in the dining room being who he truly was scared him.

    The warrior lost himself in his thoughts and was unsure of how much time had passed when the stairs led him down into the ruins of what was once a small chapel. Decayed wooden pews were arrayed before a crumbling statue of a deity he did not recognize. The statue had been defaced, probably by the greenskinned creatures he had slain. He looked out of a smashed window and saw that he was at ground level.

    He walked through a set of shattered doors and found himself on the shores of the lake. The light was beginning to dim, and the man frowned at the cavern¡¯s ceiling. He could tell it wasn¡¯t right but didn¡¯t understand why. He ground his teeth and tried to scratch an itch at his back before quickly realizing what a futile gesture it was while he was clad in armour.

    The itching grew worse, and he realized that it was because of all the gore he was caked in. He looked at the lake¡¯s crystal blue waters and hesitated when he was reminded of his ordeal up in the cavern. His plan was to make for the village he¡¯d seen earlier. Perhaps there was someone there who could tell him something¡­ anything¡­ and if there was, they were unlikely to receive him kindly looking and smelling as he did. There was no other choice. It was time for a bath.

    As he worked the straps, the warrior began to remember how to take his armour off. First, the gauntlets came off, revealing a pair of meaty, calloused hands. With his hands free, he was able to remove the rest of his armour quickly, discovering he wore a simple tunic and trousers underneath it all. He stripped that off as well and frowned when he realized he had no inkling of how to wash any of it. Perhaps soaking the lot in water would do the trick.

    Stripped bare, he stood in the waist deep water and took a moment to look at his reflection. A grizzled face stared back at him. His body was muscular and covered in scars, but the sight of it stirred no memories. Disappointed, he turned his attention to his armour. The lake¡¯s waters washed blood off steel easily enough, but his clothes proved a more difficult challenge. He laid the various pieces out to dry on the grass by the lake while he figured out how to clean his blood soaked garments. While he was experimenting, he heard rustling from the trees nearby. Moments later, a great black shape burst from the trees and charged towards his armour.

    The warrior left his clothes in the water and charged to intercept the newcomer. The reptilian creature measured almost ten feet long from its squat snout to the tip of its thick, powerful tail and crawled on the ground on eight squat, powerful legs. Its body was covered in thick blue scales and topped with brown spikes.

    ¡°Get away from that!¡± the warrior roared as the beast sniffed his armour.

    The creature turned to look at him with its two deep azure eyes. The warrior met its gaze without fear, cursing himself for not at least keeping his weapon with him. No matter, he would pulverize this strange beast with his bare hands if he had to.

    A bright light flashed from the beast¡¯s eyes, and the warrior found himself unable to move. The beast licked its lips and slowly scuttled over to the warrior and sniffed him cautiously. Satisfied, it flicked its long, serpentine tongue from its mouth that was filled with jagged, needle like teeth and licked him across the face.

    Using all his concentration, the man managed to move his arm ever so slightly. The creature snorted in alarm and leapt back. It bared its teeth and snarled, but the warrior was still frozen in place. Deciding it was time to stop playing with its food, the creature lunged at the warrior.

    As it was about to clamp its teeth around the warrior¡¯s neck, an arrow flew out of the forest. It bounced harmlessly off the creature¡¯s armoured back, but it was enough to make it stop its killing blow and whirl around to face the new threat.

    The beast howled, and something hard struck the warrior in the face. The warrior raised a hand to touch his cheek and saw that the projectile had drawn blood. Then, he realized he could move and knew what he had to do. He lunged for the beast from behind and managed to slip his forearm under its head, locking its thick, muscular neck under his elbow and used his other hand to lock it in place.

    The creature thrashed around as it let out a surprised yelp. It was strong, but the warrior held fast. He tightened his grip around its neck in an attempt to choke the life out of it, but the creature showed no sign of weakening.

    ¡°Expose its neck!¡± a man¡¯s voice shouted from the bushes.

    The warrior gritted his teeth and adjusted his grip so that his arm was now under the creature¡¯s jaw. The muscles in his back strained as he pulled back with all his might, exposing the beast¡¯s neck. The beast shuddered as an arrow pierced the think scales around its throat before going limp. The warrior clung on for a moment later and when he was sure the creature was dead, he let it slip from his grasp and turned to face the direction from where the arrow flew.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± he called out but was greeted with silence.

    The warrior frowned and bent over to pick up his weapon. Then, he became aware of someone to his side and whirled around to see a ragged man with greying hair training a bow on him. An arrow was nocked, and the bowstring was pulled back as far as it could go.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move,¡± the man warned.

 Chapter 3

    Slowly, the nude warrior straightened himself and faced the archer without any regard for his modesty. Their eyes locked, and the warrior gave the newcomer a challenging look, as though daring him to fire. They were standing roughly twenty paces apart, and the warrior decided that he would sacrifice an arm to block the first arrow should the archer fire and reduce his head to a bloody pulp before he could ready another.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± the archer demanded.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± The warrior replied. He saw the archer¡¯s hands quiver from the exertion of keeping the bow taut, and the warrior readied himself to charge if the archer released a stray shot. ¡°My first memory is of falling into the water up there.¡±

    The archer followed the warrior¡¯s finger as he pointed at the bearded face on the cliff. It was a novice¡¯s error that the warrior wasn¡¯t going to let pass by. The warrior darted forward. The archer saw the movement in the corner of his eye and loosed his shot but in his arm¡¯s fatigued state, it flew astray.

    Before he could nock another arrow, the warrior had closed the distance between them. He was about to snap the archer¡¯s bow in two and cave his face in with his fists when common sense prevailed. This was the first being he could communicate with since he had become aware. Even if this slip of a man might now know who he was, he could at least tell him something about where he was.

    The warrior snatched the archer¡¯s bow out of his hands and glowered at the lanky man. ¡°I could have snapped your neck if I had the mind.¡±

    The archer showed no fear as he stared back. At length, he removed his hand from the dagger he kept sheathed at the small of his back before conceding. ¡°I suppose you could have.¡±

    Slowly, the warrior released his hold on the bow, and the archer slung it across his back. ¡°My name is Rus.¡±

    The warrior nodded. ¡°I am afraid I do not know my name.¡±

    Rus frowned and looked down at the warrior¡¯s armour. ¡°I see the word Orin etched onto your cuirass.¡±

    The warrior shrugged. ¡°It stirs no memories in me, but you may call me that.¡±

    Rus nodded. ¡°Glad to meet another delver on this level.¡±

    Orin arched an eyebrow. ¡°Level?¡±

    Rus nodded. ¡°Yes, level. We are in a dungeon, or had you forgotten that as well¡­¡±

    The archer paused to look at the sky. ¡°It¡¯s getting dark, we need to move.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°This is orc territory,¡± Rus replied and pointed at the chapel. ¡°They sleep in there during the day and come out after dark.¡±

    Orin glanced at the ruins of the chapel and grunted. ¡°Then you can rest easy. I have already laid waste to that nest.¡±

    Rus¡¯ eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°You did that, alone?¡±

    Orin nodded and looked at the archer. He was thin and fearful. Accurate with his bow, but probably unaccustomed to fighting. ¡°I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised you had trouble with them.¡±

    A hurt look crossed the middle-aged man¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m a hunter, not a fighter. I just came here in search of meat.¡±

    ¡°Do you live nearby?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°No, I live on the surface,¡± the hunter replied absently. He glanced at the warrior before looking away quickly. ¡°Say, uh, would you mind putting some clothes on?¡±

    The warrior returned to the lake, but all he could find was his undergarments. ¡°The current must have swept the rest away.¡±

    His stomach growled as he walked onto the shore and the archer gave him a wan smile. ¡°I suppose you did help me kill this basilisk, so half the meat is yours.¡±

    Orin looked at the dead creature and frowned. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I do not know how to prepare such a thing.¡±

    ¡°Then you can leave that to me,¡± Rus said happily as he drew his dagger and used it to carve the basilisk up. ¡°Truth be told, I¡¯m happy to run into a powerful warrior such as yourself.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Orin asked suspiciously.

    ¡°See this level is a sanctuary of sorts,¡± the hunter explained as he peeled a section of the creature¡¯s skin back to expose its pale red flesh. ¡°The magi think it¡¯s supposed to be a rest area for delvers to rest and recover before challenging the more difficult levels ahead.¡±

    The explanation only served to deepen the warrior¡¯s confusion. ¡°Delvers?¡±

    ¡°Explorers from the surface, they come down here in search of treasure and artefacts,¡± the hunter replied as he expertly carved a loin out of the basilisk and set it on the grass. ¡°The deeper you go, the better the rewards, or so they say.¡±

    ¡°And you wish for me to help you delve deeper into the dungeon?¡± Orin ventured.

    The hunter shook his head. ¡°Quite the opposite. I was due to return to the surface two days ago but found that the gateway out of this level was blocked by a demon.¡±

    ¡°A demon?¡±

    ¡°Something with strength that cannot be described,¡± Rus said. ¡°I saw it cut armoured men in two with a single strike.¡±

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    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound so impressive,¡± Orin snorted.

    ¡°Perhaps you could defeat it,¡± Rus said, observing Orin carefully. ¡°I couldn¡¯t hope to take something like that on by myself, so I am trapped down here.¡±

    ¡°I take it this demon isn¡¯t usually found here,¡± Orin ventured.

    Rus shook his head. ¡°No, I have not heard of any occurring in this dungeon at all, as a matter of fact. Regardless, a creature that powerful has no business being up here.¡±

    The hunter frowned and turned around to look at the face on the cliff. ¡°You say your first memory was being in that cave?¡±

    Orin nodded.

    ¡°Perhaps you came from the castle,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°You certainly seem strong enough to have made it that far if you can wrestle a basilisk bare handed.¡±

    Orin followed the hunter¡¯s gaze and muttered. ¡°Then perhaps there are clues to my identity there.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d advise against it, my friend,¡± the hunter warned. ¡°They say the castle is the centre of the dungeon. None who have ventured there returned to tell the tale. To go alone would be suicide.¡±

    Orin snorted derisively. ¡°That remains to be seen.¡±

    ¡°Now, a fire,¡± the hunter said before looking around. ¡°Help me gather branches, will you?¡±

    As they collected fallen branches from the ground nearby, Rus gave the warrior a sideways look. ¡°Do you have an idea of what you¡¯re going to do next?¡±

    Orin shrugged. ¡°It appears as though I¡¯m headed to the castle.¡±

    Rus nodded. ¡°I know of a way. I¡¯d be willing to tell you if¡­¡±

    ¡°I deal with the demon,¡± Orin observed dryly. ¡°That seems a fair trade.¡±

    Rus smirked. ¡°You¡¯ve not seen the demon then, my friend.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Orin allowed.

    ¡°However, I¡¯d wager even you would find it difficult to defeat a demon with that little mace of yours,¡± Rus remarked.

    Orin frowned. ¡°I saw a village nearby¡­ Perhaps they might know something.¡±

    ¡°You won¡¯t find the living there,¡± Rus said. ¡°That place belongs to the dead.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Orin demanded.

    ¡°You¡¯ll understand when you see it,¡± Rus replied and paused thoughtfully. ¡°Yes, I suppose I should take you there. If nothing else, the place might yield a proper weapon for you. One suitable for taking on a demon.¡±

    Orin nodded thoughtfully. Though the deal sounded fair, it seemed like a whole lot of trouble. His first instinct was to beat the information on the route to the castle out of this scrawny man but thought better of it. He still had use for this man. He was cooking for him, for one, and he could well yield more information on this dungeon he was in. Besides it was barbaric to resort to violence at every turn. Wasn¡¯t it?

    Soon, Rus decided they had gathered enough wood and started a fire. Orin watched, fascinated as the hunter fashioned a makeshift spit out of the remaining branches to roast the basilisk meat. As he waited for it to cook, Orin looked up at the cavern¡¯s roof. It had been illuminated by multiple points of light that had dwindled until they looked like pinpricks against the inky blackness.

    ¡°There¡¯s something nostalgic about this sight,¡± he muttered, half to himself.

    ¡°It¡¯s like stars in a night sky, isn¡¯t it?¡± Rus agreed.

    ¡°I¡¯ll have to take your word for it,¡± Orin remarked. ¡°What sort of place is this¡­ dungeon?¡±

    The hunter gave him a sideways look and shrugged. ¡°People more learned than I say it¡¯s an alternate dimension that has its own rules¡­ Indeed, there are creatures here that simply don¡¯t exist outside.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you came in to hunt them?¡± Orin ventured.

    Rus nodded. ¡°Basilisk scales, cockatrice¡¯s feathers, dragon fangs and the like all fetch handsome prices outside.¡±

    ¡°You say you¡¯ve been in here for days,¡± Orin observed. ¡°I assume you have a camp somewhere?¡±

    ¡°I do,¡± Rus said. ¡°But I mean no offence when I say I don¡¯t trust you enough to take you there.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± Orin offered without knowing if it was.

    Something stirred in the bushes, and Rus looked around warily. ¡°Are you sure you took care of all the orcs?¡±

    Orin shrugged. ¡°If I didn¡¯t¡­ well, I don¡¯t think they pose much of a threat.¡±

    ¡°To you, maybe,¡± Rus sniffed. ¡°And I don¡¯t care how doughty a fighter you are. If one catches you in your sleep, it¡¯ll slit your throat just as easily as a newborn babe¡¯s.¡±

    Orin grunted. ¡°Perhaps you have a point. We should take turns to keep watch.¡±

    A smile spread across Rus¡¯ face. ¡°You know, it¡¯s good to have finally found a companion. It gets tiring sleeping with one eye open.¡±

    ¡°Are there no other¡­ delvers down here?¡± Orin ventured.

    The hunter shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s the strangest thing. Normally, this level is a waystation of sorts, and you¡¯d bump into groups going in each direction every so often, but they all seemed to have disappeared over the last week or so.¡±

    He turned his gaze to the cliff and the unseen castle before adding. ¡°This dungeon is changing. When I get back to the surface, I don¡¯t think I will ever return.¡±

    ¡°You are running with your tail between your legs,¡± the warrior observed.

    The hunter chuckled. ¡°I suppose I am.¡±

    He checked the meat and his face brightened. ¡°Ah, dinner is ready.¡±

    ¡°Will we leave after we¡¯ve eaten?¡± Orin ventured as he accepted a chunk of meat from Rus.

    ¡°Might I suggest we rest for the night and set out in the morning?¡± Rus said before taking a large bite of basilisk meat.

    ¡°I¡¯m not tired,¡± Orin remarked before doing the same. The meat was bland, but he was hungry and wolfed it down quickly.

    ¡°You may not be,¡± Rus said, observing the warrior eat with morbid fascination. ¡°But I am. Besides, it¡¯s not safe to travel these woods at night.¡±

    ¡°For you, perhaps,¡± Orin snorted before giving the basilisk¡¯s carcass a hungry look.

    ¡°Well, you might be able to hold your own in there, but I know I can¡¯t,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°I¡¯ll make you a deal. If you wait until morning before setting out, I¡¯ll cook you some more meat.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Orin conceded at length.

    The hunter grinned as he set his unfinished food aside to carve a larger slab of meat off the carcass. When he returned, his smile vanished. Orin turned around and saw hundreds of tiny lights in the distance, making their way down the cliff face in a serpentine manner.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid supper will have to be cut short,¡± Rus said.

    Orin frowned as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. From this distance, it looked like fairy lights dancing down the cliff. ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say it was an army,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°Only, there shouldn¡¯t be a path up that cliff.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you don¡¯t know this place as well as you thought,¡± Orin scoffed.

    Rus kicked dirt onto the fire, and when it was smothered, he shrugged. ¡°Maybe I don¡¯t. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever heard of an army marching up from the deeper levels. At any rate, chances are they saw our fire and are heading this way.¡±

    ¡°Maybe they will have weapons,¡± Orin suggested as he began putting his armour on. ¡°That will save us a trip to the village.¡±

    ¡°It looks like there are hundreds of them,¡± Rus pointed out. ¡°And they¡¯re coming from deeper in the dungeon. You would be a fool to challenge them alone.¡±

    Orin gave the lights a wistful look as he strapped his armour over his bare skin and thought his options over. His first instinct had been to throw himself into the thick of battle, but the prospect of turning into a rage fuelled berserker again turned his stomach. There was also truth to Rus¡¯ words, as cowardly as he found them. It would be foolish to face an army of hundreds with little more than a glorified club.

    ¡°Then we make for the village at dawn,¡± he said.

    ¡°Yes, that would be for the best,¡± Rus let out a relieved sigh. ¡°You say you don¡¯t remember much, but you wear that armour like an expert.¡±

    Orin looked down and blinked. He had donned his cuirass and his vambraces with little conscious thought. ¡°I must have done it a lot. Can you infer anything from that?¡±

    ¡°That you¡¯re not a lord, I suppose,¡± Rus shrugged. ¡°As far as I know, they have squires to do that sort of thing for them.¡±

    ¡°What now?¡± Orin asked after he had donned the last of his armour.

    ¡°Follow me,¡± the hunter said. ¡°I know a safe place we can rest for the night.¡±

 Chapter 4

    Mists clung to the feet of trees as the lights overhead began to grow brighter. Visibility was limited to a few dozen yards, but Rus led the way, silently, and unerringly through the undergrowth. Orin, on the other hand, made a huge racket as he tromped carelessly behind the hunter.

    ¡°Do you think you could keep it down?¡± Rus asked over his shoulder. ¡°There are predators lurking in these woods.¡±

    ¡°Let them come,¡± Orin sniffed. ¡°I could use some breakfast.¡±

    The pair had spent the night in a large hollowed out tree. It was comfortable, but there was no prepared food, and cooking was out of the question with an army potentially on the hunt for them.

    ¡°We need to get our priorities in order,¡± Rus reminded the warrior. ¡°We don¡¯t want to arrive at the village when its dark.¡±

    ¡°I saw it from above,¡± Orin scoffed. ¡°It¡¯s a small village¡­ and if those¡­ orcs are the best this level has to offer, I can¡¯t envisage anything in there being a problem.¡±

    ¡°The village is the most difficult area on this level,¡± Rus warned. ¡°More difficult than many areas deeper in the dungeon. It has only been cleared once as far as I know.¡±

    ¡°Maybe those who have attempted it were weaklings,¡± Orin wanted to say, but the looks Rus had given him after his previous such barbs told him that he was being impolite, which gave him the distinct feeling that whoever he was before he lost his memories might not have been pleasant to be around.

    ¡°So it has been cleared?¡± he ventured instead.

    ¡°A band of delvers came through on their way to the castle,¡± Rus said. ¡°However, they searched the manor and found no hint of treasure.¡±

    ¡°Treasure, as in gold and such trinkets?¡± Orin ventured. ¡°I have no interest in such things.¡±

    ¡°Well, they said there were weapons inside,¡± Rus replied. ¡°Normally, it would be easier to get such things on the surface, but we can¡¯t get there, can we?¡±

    Orin frowned. ¡°Is better treasure normally protected by stronger foes?¡±

    ¡°No one knows why, but that is generally how dungeons work,¡± Rus said.

    ¡°I suppose that makes sense in a way,¡± the warrior grunted and looked around. ¡°What is this dungeon¡¯s purpose, anyway?¡±

    ¡°Wiser men than I have dedicated their lives to researching that very question,¡± Rus turned around and flashed the warrior a grin. ¡°But we common folk think it¡¯s quite simple. It¡¯s a gambling den. Fame and fortune are up for grabs. The higher the risk, the higher the reward and the wager is our lives.¡±

    ¡°If you say so,¡± Orin said dubiously.

    ¡°And in the end, the house always wins,¡± Rus continued, as though he hadn¡¯t heard Orin¡¯s words. ¡°I¡¯ve seen it too many times. Delvers becoming emboldened after a few successes and pushing too far only to pay the ultimate price.¡±

    The hunter turned to look Orin in the eye and grinned. ¡°The only way to win is to constantly remind yourself of your limits.¡±

    A moment of clarity struck Orin, causing him to frown. ¡°For some reason, I believe the phrase is, ¡®the only way to win is not to play¡¯.¡±

    Rus¡¯ grin broadened. ¡°Now you¡¯re beginning to sound like my wife. You¡¯re not related to her, are you?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know,¡± Orin replied. ¡°I¡¯ve lost my memory, remember?¡±

    ¡°And your sense of humour, from the look of it,¡± Rus remarked without rancour. He looked up as they emerged onto a beaten dirt path and beamed. ¡°Ah, look at that, we¡¯ve arrived.¡±

    The mists evaporated, and Orin couldn¡¯t tell if it was a coincidence or if it was because they had stepped onto the path. Orin followed Rus¡¯ gaze and was decidedly unimpressed with what he saw. There was the village, with its old and decayed buildings. The manor, however, looked to be in pristine condition atop a small hill in the heart of the village. Even its sprawling grounds appeared to be well tended. Then, he saw the skeletons. They were dressed in rags, and some carried decaying farm implements while one pushed a rotted wheelbarrow down the street. They looked very much like villagers going about their daily routines, except for the lack of flesh.

    ¡°What are they?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°You¡¯ve forgotten what a skeleton is?¡± Rus ventured.

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t,¡± the warrior snapped. ¡°How are they walking around?¡±

    Rus shrugged and looked around. ¡°Magic, I suppose. This really isn¡¯t anything out of the ordinary for this place.¡±

    ¡°Should we be standing out here in the open?¡± Orin asked as he readied his mace. ¡°They will see us at any moment.¡±

    ¡°Are you scared?¡± Rus asked mockingly.

    Orin resisted the urge to snap the scrawny man in half for his impertinence and shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m just curious. You seem the type who avoids a fight whenever possible.¡±

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°They won¡¯t attack unless you enter the village,¡± Rus explained. ¡°And they won¡¯t pursue you if you leave the boundary.¡±

    ¡°Then the tactic is clear,¡± Orin remarked. ¡°We destroy them piecemeal at the edge of the boundary and withdraw if we are in danger of being overwhelmed.¡±

    ¡°If only someone had thought of that before,¡± Rus chuckled. ¡°Go on, give it a try.¡±

    Orin gave the hunter a wary look. ¡°Why, what¡¯s going to happen?¡±

    ¡°Step across the boundary, where the forest ends, and crush one or two,¡± he said. ¡°Go on, you¡¯re capable of at least that much without getting hurt.¡±

    Orin didn¡¯t budge. ¡°What are you trying to prove?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve found an interesting time not to want to go barging in,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°Just go, you ought to be fine. I¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±

    Cautiously, Orin walked down the path that ran through the heart of the village and up to the manor. When he was five paces from the edge of the clearing, the skeletons stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards the pair. Though they had no eyes, Orin could feel them looking at him. It was an unsettling feeling, but not enough to deter him. The warrior puffed his chest out and strode forward across the threshold.

    The skeletons opened their mouth and were somehow able to out a unified high pitched roar before charging towards the two men. Orin felt blood pumping through his veins at the impending battle. He stepped forward with his weapon raised when he felt a hand around his arm, pulling him back.

    ¡°Any further and you risk being overwhelmed,¡± Rus cautioned. ¡°Let them come.¡±

    The hunter stepped back out of the clearing as the first skeleton approached. Orin brought his mace down in a savage blow, crushing the skull of the closest skeleton. He saw it collapse into a pile of bones and turned his attention to the second. He crushed the ribcage of this one, and it too shattered. The warrior stepped to the side where the ground was clear and destroyed a third. While he was fighting a fourth, he saw the pieces of the first skeleton¡¯s shattered skull float through the air to reassemble themselves. Soon, the bones rose into the air and reassembled themselves, and the skeleton joined the fray.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, get back here,¡± Rus cried.

    Orin wasn¡¯t listening. The warrior had lost himself in the heat of battle and struck skeletons down left and right with his fist and mace. Orin winced when a skeleton he had crushed under his foot reassembled itself and began attacking his greaves. He smashed it with his foot again and was caught off balance by the sheer weight of the skeleton¡¯s numbers as more came from the far corners of the village to join the fray. Despite his best efforts, the warrior was pushed back first a pace, and then two, and then, they stopped attacking.

    The warrior found that his breath was ragged. His limbs felt heavy and sweat streamed down his face, but seeing the skeletons staring at him, as though taunting him to step back into their realm, filled him with rage. He was about to wade forward when he felt something strike him in the back. The warrior whirled around to face this new foe and saw that it was Rus, who had fired an arrow into his back from thirty yards away.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough, you ¡®ll be at that all day,¡± the hunter cried as he prepared to bolt should the hulking warrior turn his rage on him. ¡°Believe me, there have been groups that have tried. They will keep coming, and you will tire, and that is how they will win.¡±

    Reason cut through rage, and the warrior let out a roar of frustration. He turned around and blinked in surprise at their sheer numbers. The skeletons watched impassively as he backed away, and when he was five paces away, they dispersed and went back about their business, whatever that was.

    ¡°If you strike one down, it will just keep coming back,¡± Rus said. ¡°They appear to be immune to magic, and arrows are of no use against them at all.¡±

    ¡°There have to be hundreds of them,¡± Orin murmured.

    ¡°Around two hundred and twenty,¡± Rus said. ¡°The number seems to fluctuate for reasons we don¡¯t understand.¡±

    Orin turned his gaze to the mansion at the top of the hill. It looked disproportionately large compared to the village. It consisted of a three storey central building that was flanked by a pair of two storey wings.

    ¡°I take it you have an idea of how to get inside?¡± he ventured.

    Rus nodded. ¡°We can sneak in if we note their routines and employ a little stealth. That ought to be the easy part. I have faith that you will be able to fight your way out if we get seen.¡±

    ¡°I take it this has been done before?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°Yes, there was a gang of burglars that snuck into the manor successfully,¡± Rus said. ¡°However, the creatures inside are far beyond the skeletons outside. Think of lifelong knights compared to peasant farmers.¡±

    ¡°What was their number, and do they regenerate?¡± Orin asked, licking his lips at the prospect of fighting a skilled warrior. He had found that scything down fodder only to have them regenerate to be an exercise in frustration.

    ¡°They and the group of delvers that stormed the place counted four in all, and yes, the ones inside regenerate as well,¡± Rus replied.

    Orin nodded. ¡°And does attracting their attention also alert the ones outside?¡±

    ¡°Indeed it does,¡± Rus smiled. ¡°But for whatever reason, the skeletons outside don¡¯t go inside.¡±

    The warrior smirked. ¡°This seems like quite the challenge. I¡¯m surprised you are seeing this as a stepping stone to the demon.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t seen the demon,¡± Rus remarked.

    ¡°Has anyone ever bested one?¡± Orin ventured.

    ¡°In other dungeons, perhaps, but I can¡¯t be sure,¡± Rus shrugged. ¡°Like I said, this is the first time I¡¯ve ever heard of one being in here.¡±

    Orin smirked. ¡°I¡¯d quite like to see it, then.¡±

    ¡°Well, if we can¡¯t survive this, we won¡¯t be able to survive that,¡± Rus replied. ¡°Some challenges are impossible without the right tools. It so happens that I believe we have the right tools to complete this little one here.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Orin arched an eyebrow. ¡°And what tools are those?¡±

    The hunter¡¯s eyes widened in mock surprise. ¡°Why, my brains and your brawn, of course.¡±

    Orin grunted. ¡°Well then, brains, why don¡¯t you think up a way for us to get inside unseen.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here,¡± Rus replied. ¡°We¡¯re going to observe their routes and look for an opening. It¡¯s a shame Undral Proudnose isn¡¯t here with us, that cocky little shit.¡±

    ¡°Who is he?¡±

    ¡°A halfling who made getting into the manor unseen into an art,¡± Rus shrugged. ¡°He¡¯d do it just to prove he could.¡±

    ¡°What happened to him?¡±

    ¡°He got cocky,¡± Rus smirked and shook his head. ¡°He¡¯d try to make his forays to the manor as flamboyant as he could and one day¡­ well, a skeleton deviated from its routine slightly and spotted him. He was swamped and killed in the blink of an eye.¡±

    Orin nodded. ¡°He was lulled into a false sense of security, and the dungeon changed the rules.¡±

    ¡°The house always wins,¡± Rus said. ¡°Let¡¯s get somewhere higher so we can see what they¡¯re doing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll leave that to you,¡± Orin said. ¡°I get the feeling that climbing trees is not my forte.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Rus said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want you falling out and injuring yourself or worse¡­¡±

    ¡°Say, why didn¡¯t you want to come here at night?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°The ones outside grow stronger,¡± Rus replied. ¡°I¡¯ve seen them tear steel armour to shreds with their bare¡­ well, their bare bones.¡±

    ¡°And the ones inside?¡± Orin ventured.

    Rus shrugged. ¡°No one has been foolish enough to attempt to find out.¡±

 Chapter 5

    The lights overhead were at their brightest when Rus and Orin crept through an open window into a dilapidated house. Its interior was rubble strewn, and Orin took care to sidestep a pile of rotted wood. They had learned early on that the skeletons could hear, which caused them to have to abort several runs.

    Rus raised a hand, and Orin saw a bead of sweat roll down the hunter¡¯s face. They had wasted half a day attempting to get to the manor unseen, and this was as far as they had ever gotten. Orin had lost count of the number of times they had been spotted and forced to beat a hasty retreat back into the forest. They had also learned that being indoors was more dangerous than being outside. It was all too easy for the skeletons to surround them in a building, but they had found no other way to progress beyond this point.

    Just outside the house¡¯s caved in door, a skeleton stood with its back to them. Another stood in front of it. Its jaw moved up and down as though it was talking, though no sounds came out, and their hands waved about animatedly.

    Orin felt his heart pound in his chest as they waited for the skeleton to finish their ¡®conversation¡¯. The warrior found this sensation utterly unpleasant, unlike the blood pumping excitement he felt in the thick of battle.

    As though sensing the warrior¡¯s frustration, Rus raised a hand and whispered. ¡°Wait for my signal. I think I have the timing down this time.¡±

    This time. The words made Orin¡¯s blood boil. Rus had missed a skeleton¡¯s patrol the last time they had attempted this route, and they had been spotted. They were quickly surrounded and only escaped back to the forest by the skins of their teeth.

    The skeletons¡¯ conversation soon ended and one walked away. Moments later, the other did the same. Orin got up and crept towards the door, but Rus held him back. The warrior shot him a furious look, but the hunter merely pointed out the door at a window of the house across the street. Through it, was a skeleton that was staring right at the door.

    Orin¡¯s blood froze. That skeleton hadn¡¯t been there on the previous attempts. His instincts shouted a warning, and the warrior turned around to look through the window they had entered through and saw at least half a dozen skeletons seemingly going out their business outside. Up until now, the skeletons had followed a strict routine that began at the top of every hour. Now, it seemed the routine was changing.

    ¡°Perhaps we should give this up after all,¡± Rus remarked as he mopped the sweat from his brow.

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Orin replied. The warrior found that walking away empty handed after they had spent so much effort into the endeavour completely unacceptable. ¡°Whoever is controlling those things fears us getting into the manor. Why else would they change the rules when we¡¯re only half way there?¡±

    ¡°To lull us into a false sense of security?¡± Rus suggested.

    Orin shook his head. ¡°No, that isn¡¯t it.¡±

    The hunter gave him a blank look. ¡°Are you suggesting we storm the place?¡±

    Orin shook his head. ¡°No, at least not yet. Let¡¯s carry on with what we were doing.¡±

    ¡°And if we¡¯re spotted, which way do we run?¡± Rus asked.

    Orin gave the scrawny man an amused look. ¡°Are you asking that so you can run in the opposite direction, leaving me to fend them off on my own?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± Rus replied without missing a beat.

    To the hunter¡¯s surprise, Orin broke into a broad smile. ¡°I grow weary of this skulking about. If we are spotted again, I have half a mind to find out what gives out first, my strength, or their ability to resurrect themselves.¡±

    ¡°If you die, that still leaves me trapped on this level,¡± Rus objected.

    ¡°And if I die, I¡¯ll be dead,¡± Orin pointed out.

    ¡°You know, you¡¯re growing more eloquent with each passing hour,¡± Rus said dryly. ¡°You must have been a poet before you lost your memory.¡±

    Before Orin could retort, the hunter padded to the door and slipped out. Orin had to scramble to catch up, and miraculously, together, the pair made it to the building across the street unseen. Cautiously, they padded down the back alley and took cover behind a large barrel as a skeleton walked past. This one hadn¡¯t looked down the alley when Rus observed their movements from the top of a tree, but they were taking no chances.

    Rus held up a hand signalling for Orin to wait. After what felt like an eternity, he raised his dagger and used its well polished blade to look down the alley. He had only raised it for a moment when he quickly drew it back and cursed.

    ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°They?¡±

    ¡°This way!¡± Rus hissed before creeping through a nearby door.

    Orin was hot on his heels and closed the door gently behind him. He looked around and frowned. Nothing about the room they were in made sense to him.

    ¡°It¡¯s a tavern kitchen,¡± the hunter said. ¡°Lie low and wait for them to march past.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Orin said as he strode out of the kitchen.

    Rus¡¯ face contorted into one of incredulity. ¡°No?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too easy for us to be trapped in here,¡± Orin declared as he emerged from the kitchen.

    Decrepit tables and chairs were strewn haphazardly around the large room. Light streamed in from a large window that offered a view of the manor and its grounds. Their destination was only across the street, but it looked like every skeleton in the village was congregating outside.

    ¡°Get down before they see you!¡± Rus hissed as he appeared behind the warrior. The hunter whirled around when he heard the back door open.

    ¡°No, that isn¡¯t fair,¡± he gasped as the colour drained from his face.

    Orin broke into a grim smile as he drew his weapon. ¡°No, it isn¡¯t. Let¡¯s go out the back. There are fewer of them there. We¡¯ll fight our way out from there.¡±

    Rus blinked and came to his senses. ¡°No, that¡¯s a trap. Follow me.¡±

    ¡°What good will that do?¡± Orin demanded as Rus charged up the stairs.

    ¡°Trust me, I¡¯m a hunter,¡± he called over his shoulder without slowing down. ¡°I can smell a trap, and this is the only way out of it.¡±

    Orin swallowed a curse and charged after the hunter. Behind him, he heard a skeleton hiss in alarm. He looked over his shoulder and saw the skeletons that had been gathering outside were now rushing for the tavern¡¯s door.

    ¡°This way!¡± Rus cried as he arrived on the first floor and bolted down a corridor. Orin was two paces behind him and could already hear the clicking of bones against wood on the stairs behind him.

    ¡°We¡¯re trapped up here!¡± Orin growled in frustration. If they were going to fight, he would rather it have been out in the street where it was more open, and he didn¡¯t have to worry about foes resurrecting at his feet.

    ¡°Over here!¡± Rus said as he broke down a door leading to one of the guest¡¯s rooms.

    Inside, they found a pair of beds, a small wardrobe and a window facing the manor. Down in the street, they could see the skeletons crammed around the front door as they jostled one another to get in through the door. Then, it dawned on Orin as to what Rus¡¯ plan was.

    ¡°Go on then, open the window!¡± he cried.

    ¡°Not yet!¡± Rus shot back. ¡°There¡¯s too many of them still on the street.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re almost here!¡± Orin warned.

    ¡°Then deal with them!¡± Rus cried.

    The warrior whirled around and crushed the skull of the first skeleton as it entered. He had time to kick the remains of its body back out into the hall before the second arrived. It swung a dagger at him, and Orin allowed the rusty weapon to shatter against his cuirass before shoving the creature into the third skeleton and smashing through both their torsos with a mighty swing of his mace. He had spent half the day fighting them and learned that it was important to conserve his strength.

    They collapsed to the ground in a heap, and three more skeletons swarmed into the room at once. Orin smashed the first but stepped on a femur as he attempted to reposition his feet to destroy the second. He grunted as the creature lunged for his face and managed to rip its head off and hurl it at the third.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± a distant voice cried. ¡°Get down here!¡±

    Orin whirled around to see that Rus was already on the street below, and running towards the manor for dear life. The warrior cursed and destroyed a fourth skeleton before jumping out the window. As he landed on the dirt street, he heard a skeleton let out a cry of alarm. The skeletons that had been attempting to get in through the door turned around and began chasing after the duo. The warrior looked over his shoulder as he ran after Rus and saw skeletons falling out the first floor window he had jumped from, onto the skeletons below.

    ¡°You left me high and dry!¡± Orin exclaimed furiously when he caught up.

    ¡°I called you, but you weren¡¯t listening,¡± the scrawny hunter protested as they climbed over the fence bordering the manor¡¯s grounds. ¡°I thought you would pull a wardrobe down or something to barricade us in the room.¡±

    ¡°Only a coward would do such a thing,¡± Orin cried.

    ¡°Haven¡¯t you heard the expression live to fight another day?¡± Rus countered as they ran up the manor¡¯s manicured gardens.

    Orin looked over his shoulder and watched as the skeletons swarmed along the fence towards the gates further up the street. ¡°They¡¯re coming.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll go up and out the back gate,¡± Rus said.

    ¡°We¡¯re not going inside?¡± Orin asked incredulously.

    ¡°The rules have changed, remember?¡± Rus panted. ¡°We can¡¯t be sure they won¡¯t follow us inside.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care,¡± Orin said stubbornly as he changed direction for the manor¡¯s front door. ¡°I¡¯m finding out what¡¯s in there. You can run away if you like.¡±

    ¡°You stubborn sod!¡± Rus cried in frustration. ¡°If you¡¯re going inside, at least be smart about it. Come this way!¡±

    The hunter ran towards a low balcony and jumped to grab the ledge before athletically pulling himself up onto the balcony. Orin approached and was able to easily reach the ledge, but weighed down in armour, found himself unable to pull himself up. He grunted as a skeleton grabbed at his feet. The creature collapsed after he kicked its head off, but more were coming. Rus reached down and grabbed the warrior by the arm. They strained their muscles and working together, were able to get Orin up onto the balcony.

    When they looked over the side, they saw at least a dozen skeletons looking up at them silently with their empty eye sockets.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s downright unsettling,¡± Rus muttered.

    ¡°It looks as though the others are returning to their daily business,¡± Orin observed.

    ¡°Need to keep the village safe. There could be more intruders out there,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°How do we get out?¡±

    ¡°We can worry about that after we¡¯ve finished our business inside,¡± Orin replied.

    Rus winced as Orin kicked the balcony¡¯s door in with a loud crash. ¡°Hey, we¡¯re supposed to be sneaking in.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Orin asked as he stepped through the ruined door into a large, opulent bedroom. ¡°The master of this place already knows we are here.¡±

    Rus followed the warrior inside and froze when he saw a suit of armour standing motionless at the doorway leading to the hall beyond. It stood slightly taller than Rus, and the hunter initially thought that it was empty.

    However, Orin eyed it warily. He knew instinctively that something was inside, staring at them without moving, as though challenging them to make the first move. Then, he saw the longsword in its hands.

    The warrior licked his lips and smiled. ¡°Now that¡¯s a weapon.¡±

 Chapter 6

    The warrior felt his heart thump pleasantly in his chest. From the way it stood this foe seemed like he would provide some measure of challenge, even if it was likely to regenerate itself once defeated. Sensing that he might need it, Orin leapt onto the bed and removed the kite shield that had been hanging over it before strapping it to his arm. His foe watched, still unmoving, its head obscured from behind its helmets face shield.

    ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    The warrior¡¯s jaw went slack. It sounded like the suit of armour had spoken. Orin and Rus exchanged looks, and the hunter looked just as surprised as the warrior did.

    ¡°Do not think I am like that mindless rabble outside,¡± the creature¡¯s voice reverberated inside its helmet, giving it a peculiar timbre. ¡°I am a knight, and before we do battle, I would ask for your name, though I am ashamed to admit that I have forgotten my own.¡±

    ¡°What a coincidence, I¡¯ve forgotten mind as well,¡± Orin said as he stepped down from the bed and faced off against his foe.

    The armoured knight held its longsword up to his face in a salute. ¡°Two unnamed warriors fighting to the death for nothing more than their honour. Marvellous.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not quite right, is it?¡± Orin ventured as a grin crept across his face. ¡°You¡¯re already dead, and even if I knock your head off, you¡¯ll just get right back up, won¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°That, I cannot help,¡± his opponent admitted. ¡°But if you do succeed in knocking me down, the honour of victory shall go to you.¡±

    ¡°I have no use for honour,¡± Orin replied. ¡°How about you tell me where your master is if I win?¡±

    ¡°A fair trade,¡± the knight nodded and readied his sword. ¡°On guard.¡±

    Orin stepped forward and took a deep breath, determined not to give in to his rage. He feinted with his mace. The knight¡¯s strike was quick, and Orin raised his shield but was unprepared for the force behind the blow. It shook his arm and caused him to see stars, but he stepped in aggressively all the same and smashed his mace into his opponent¡¯s midsection with a savage grace that crushed the armour and exposed the shattered ribs underneath.

    ¡°An excellent strike!¡± the knight exclaimed.

    It would have been a mortal blow for a man, but not for the undead. The knight raised his arm and brought his sword down on Orin¡¯s shield with all its might. The mighty warrior staggered, and his hips dropped under the impact. The knight raised its sword and brought it down again but this time, Orin swept the blow aside with his shield and knocked its head off its shoulders with a powerful blow.

    The headless knight stumbled, but the warrior was unrelenting. He brought his mace down on its torso again and again with controlled fury, rending armour and splintering the bone beneath. As the knight sank to the ground, the warrior continued his relentless assault. When the body finally went limp, the warrior pounced on it.

    ¡°Help me!¡± he called to Rus as he dismantled its armour.

    ¡°To do what?¡± the hunter asked.

    ¡°Dismember it, quickly!¡± Orin cried.

    Once it was stripped of enough of its armour to expose its joints, Rus used his knife to sever the creature¡¯s limbs. The arms went out of the window, the legs out the door, the torso was shoved into a wardrobe, and the crushed head left where it lay.

    ¡°An intelligent gambit,¡± the knight said approvingly as the shattered splinters of its skull reassembled itself. ¡°Though all it has bought you is time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all I need,¡± Orin said as he scooped the knight¡¯s sword up. He examined and nodded in approval before turning to the knight¡¯s head. ¡°Now, where is your master?¡±

    ¡°In the basement,¡± it replied. ¡°Through the looking glass. The password is ¡®Into Urdagon¡¯s keeping¡¯.¡±

    ¡°And what manner of man is your master?¡± Orin ventured absently.

    ¡°That information was not part of our agreement,¡± the skull said simply.

    ¡°We have what we were after,¡± Rus said nervously. ¡°We should plan our escape.¡±

    The warrior walked to the balcony and smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t look now, but there¡¯s more of them out there.¡±

    Rus followed the warrior¡¯s gaze and frowned. He was right. More of the creatures had gathered beneath the balcony and more still were streaming in through the gate.

    ¡°Half the town is here,¡± he observed sourly. ¡°Must be a grand old party planned for tonight.¡±

    Rus twisted his torso to avoid an arm that came flying in through the window. Orin caught it and hurled it back from where it came. Something splintered behind them and the pair turned around to see that a leg had crashed through the wardrobe door and reattached itself to the torso inside.

    ¡°Looks like it¡¯s time to go,¡± Rus said as he walked towards the door.

    Orin arched an eyebrow. ¡°Why? I can just smash it again.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re going to do that until the end of time, are you?¡± Rus ventured. He peered out the door before falling back into his room on his arse to dodge an axe that carved through the doorframe and the solid stone wall like a hot knife through butter.

    ¡°The others are here,¡± he gasped as he scrambled to get behind Orin.

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    ¡°Your bravery never disappoints,¡± Orin laughed as he walked unflinchingly towards the door with his new sword in hand. ¡°Now, let¡¯s see what this thing can do.¡±

    ¡°Intruders, I am your reckoning.¡±

    This armoured knight stood almost a head taller than Orin and had to stoop its head to pass through the doorway. As it did, the warrior lopped its head off with a single blow before hacking through the unarmoured back of its knee, severing the bottom of his leg.

    Rus wasted no time in scooping the head and bottom half of the knight¡¯s leg before tossing them out of the window. Orin kicked out its remaining leg sending the headless knight toppling to the ground. Moving quickly, Orin strode out onto the hallway that overlooked the manor¡¯s foyer. Another armoured knight was climbing the stairs. This one was armed with a flail. Orin looked around briefly through a window and saw more skeletons waiting patiently outside. Then, he spotted a set a stairs leading down off to the side.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to need you to stay behind me,¡± he called over his shoulder.

    ¡°Can do, chief,¡± Rus called as he pulled out his bow.

    ¡°Let me know if any of them reassemble behind us,¡± Orin continued as he advanced towards his new enemy.

    In the corner of his eye, he saw another knight emerge from one of the manor¡¯s wings, and his eyes lit up. That one was carrying a great sword that was almost as long as Rus was tall, and as thick at the base as a man¡¯s forearm. There was something familiar about it, and Orin felt an urge to claim the weapon as his own.

    When the knight armed with a flail arrived at the upper level, Orin hefted the axe he had claimed earlier and hurled it at the knight. His opponent didn¡¯t fall for the distraction and let the weapon embed itself in its thick cuirass. The knight might have grunted in pain if it had flesh and skin, but it didn¡¯t and scarcely slowed its advance.

    With its weapon, the knight had the advantage of reach and Orin raised his free arm as he entered its range. The knight swung. Both warriors knew their ranges perfectly, and Orin saw that the flail would shatter his vambrace and his forearm underneath and pulled his arm back while stabbing at the knight with his sword. The knight twisted its head out of the way and snapped his flail at Orin¡¯s exposed arm.

    Seeing that he couldn¡¯t avoid the strike, Orin twisted his vambrace so that its thickest part caught the blow. He gritted his teeth as the flail¡¯s spiked balls struck his forearm and stepped forward aggressively. He placed his leg behind the knight¡¯s knee and pushed forward with all of his strength. Like the others, the knight was surprisingly light, lacking flesh and skin, and using his leg as a pivot, Orin easily sent it toppling over the railing down into the foyer below.

    ¡°A worthy foe!¡± the knight armed with a greatsword exclaimed as it came bounding up the stairs. ¡°I would have your name!¡±

    ¡°Two are coming from the back!¡± Rus warned at the same time.

    ¡°Don¡¯t have one,¡± Orin grunted as he hurled himself at the knight climbing the stairs. ¡°I¡¯ve already been over this with your friend back there.¡±

    The warrior glanced over his shoulder and saw the two knights he had defeated earlier emerge from the room and barked at Rus. ¡°Jump down the stairs and get to that door.¡±

    ¡°You need not worry about them,¡± the knight armed with a greatsword said. ¡°They will not interfere with our duel.¡±

    Without answering, Orin launched himself at the knight in front of him. He saw his foe swing its sword in a compact arc and angled his longsword expertly to deflect it away before striking at his arm. The blow was heavy and threw the knight¡¯s follow through off, preventing it from bringing its huge sword around for another strike.

    Orin took the opportunity to step into the knight¡¯s chest and drove his longsword up through the gap in its helmet under his chin, piercing its skull. The knight went limp, and Orin wrenched the greatsword from his hands before whirling around to face the two that had reassembled themselves, aware that the one wielding a flail was already coming up the stairs.

    The two he had defeated in the bedroom were armed only with stilettos, with their axe and longsword lodged in or on their companions. Gripping the heavy greatsword in his hands felt nostalgic, and Orin lunged forward, cutting one of the knights, armour and all in half at the torso. As it fell to the ground, its companion threw itself at the warrior. However, in his previous life, Orin had been an expert with the weapon and brought it back around with terrifying speed. He took a step back before sending a vicious thrust that pierced through the remaining knight¡¯s gorget like it was made of paper and sending its helmeted head flying down the corridor.

    The weight of the greatsword in his hand was familiar to the warrior. He found great joy in shifting its immense weight around effortlessly before using it to unleash devastating blows on his foes. He then whirled around just as the remaining knight was coming up the stairs and brought his greatsword down on top of its head with savage grace, cleaving it in two, armour and all from the crown of its head down to its waist.

    The body twitched, and the warrior knocked both halves down the stairs with a savage kick. Before the two halves had come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, Orin rested his weapon on his shoulder with practised ease and ambled over to the door Rus was standing by, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction, like he had been reunited with a long lost partner.

    ¡°The way you swing that thing around,¡± the hunter said, shaking his head. ¡°Makes my hair stand on end.¡±

    Bones and metal clattered against stone as the armoured knights reassembled themselves. Orin turned around and licked his lips in anticipation of another bout.

    ¡°Are you sure you want to see the master instead of just fighting our way out?¡± Rus ventured. ¡°I don¡¯t like the idea of going down into a basement. Who¡¯s to say he doesn¡¯t change the rules and have the minions outside come in after us if we go down?¡±

    Orin hefted his greatsword and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯ll just cut them down.¡±

    ¡°We could be trapped by their sheer weight of numbers,¡± Rus warned. ¡°They will resurrect faster than you can cut them down.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re frightened, you can wait upstairs,¡± Orin offered. ¡°These four seem content to come after me and I¡¯ll be sure to try and remember to collect you when I¡¯m done with the master of this place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re such a bellend,¡± Rus sighed.

    Orin frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t know that word.¡±

    Rus shook his head and started down the stairs. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    The knights hadn¡¯t finished reassembling yet and Orin reluctantly followed the hunter through the door that led into a darkened basement. Boxes covered with tarp were scattered across the large room, and a large mirror stood at the end of the room.

    ¡°They don¡¯t appear to be following us,¡± Orin said.

    ¡°Try not to sound so disappointed,¡± Rus breathed as he approached the mirror. He examined the reflection, and then its simple metal border and shrugged. ¡°It looks normal enough.¡±

    The hunter turned around and looked at Orin. ¡°Are you sure you want to go through with this?¡±

    Orin nodded and the hunter sighed before turning around. He looked at the mirror and said, ¡°Into Urdalon¡¯s keeping.¡±

    The hunter held his breath as the seconds ticked down. Then, he exhaled and couldn¡¯t help but grin as he turned to Orin. ¡°Looks like it doesn¡¯t work. A false lead.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure,¡± Orin said.

    Rus looked back at the mirror and jumped back when he realized their reflections had been frozen in place since he spoke the password. Then, he saw a curious glimmer in the corner of the mirror and touched it. The mirror rippled like a pool of water as his finger went through it.

    ¡°We¡¯ve come this far, we might as well go through,¡± Orin said when Rus turned around to face him.

    ¡°If you say so,¡± Rus said dubiously.

    ¡°If the skeletons outside didn¡¯t enter the manor because of the stronger ones inside, perhaps there is a worthier foe waiting for us beyond that mirror,¡± Orin mused.

    ¡°Gods above, I didn¡¯t think of that,¡± Rus gasped before Orin pushed him through the mirror.

 Chapter 7

    The mirror led them into a large, windowless chamber. From its architecture, it appeared that they were still somewhere in the manor. However, everything looked distorted and hazy, like there was something strange in the air. On the far end of the room stood a man wearing a tattered black robe. He was standing with his back to them over a table, tinkering with something Orin couldn¡¯t see.

    The warrior exchanged a look with Rus, who nodded and readied his bow. The warrior crept up to the man and blinked. He felt strange. There was no feedback from his feet, and he didn¡¯t make a sound as he walked. Something was amiss, but he couldn¡¯t tell what. However, the man before him was likely the master of this place, and they had the element of surprise. Neither wanted it to go to waste.

    Once he had entered range, Orin readied his greatsword and nodded, indicating to Rus that he was ready. He drew his weapon back and swung for the neck. As he swung, his weapon felt unnaturally light to the point that it was almost weightless. At the same time, his muscles felt heavy, and it was all he could do to swing it ever so slowly. Confused and alarmed, he glanced over at Rus, who also appeared to be having trouble bringing his bow to bear.

    ¡°Sneaking up and attacking an old man,¡± a disembodied voice admonished. It spoke in clipped tones that reverberated through the room unnaturally.

    Upon hearing the man speak Orin found himself unable to a muscle. Slowly, the old man turned around to face him. His face was skeletal, just a skull covered with a layer of parchment thin yellow skin. His eyes, however, were young and full of life as they examined the warrior approvingly.

    ¡°A necromancer,¡± Rus gasped from the other side of the room. ¡°I should have known.¡±

    ¡°You have done well to come this far,¡± the necromancer remarked as he ran a bony hand along Orin¡¯s armour. ¡°Yes, you will make a fine addition to my forces¡­ the new master will be pleased.¡±

    ¡°Release me from your foul magic so that I may pound you into dust,¡± Orin found speaking difficult but managed to choke the words out.

    ¡°You are no different from those knights upstairs,¡± The necromancer smirked. ¡°Putting such stock in your physical prowess, yet helpless in the face of the God of Death¡¯s power.¡±

    ¡°Release me from this spell and I¡¯ll show you how pathetic your God¡¯s power is,¡± Orin spat.

    The necromancer chuckled derisively. ¡°So proud now and yet soon, you will call me master.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t hold your breath,¡± Orin scoffed.

    Green energy enveloped the necromancer¡¯s hand as he chanted foul sounding words. It radiated a sickly energy that filled Orin with revulsion. The warrior willed his body to move, but it would not listen. The necromancer held the hand to Orin¡¯s face, and the warrior felt his perspective shift. As though his sight had become disconnected from his body.

    ¡°Oh Urdagon, Master of Death,¡± the necromancer chanted. ¡°Thy humble servant beseeches thee, grant me this soul so that I might be able to better serve thy interests¡­¡±

    The necromancer moved his hand to Orin¡¯s chest and touched it. The hand itself felt deathly cold through his steel cuirass. Moments later, a searing heat engulfed the warrior. The heat was accompanied by the cacophony of unnumbered high pitched screams in his ear. He strained and struggled impotently to break free from the spell as the screams began to form a coherent voice.

    ¡°You may not have this soul, not even for a moment,¡± the voice said. ¡°This soul is mine and mine alone.¡±

    The screams and the heat were familiar to Orin, and his pulse began to race. Terror filled his mind. Primal and abject terror. The terror of death. This was the voice of death and that it was his fate to become one of the screams, one of an uncountable number in the God of Death¡¯s choir. It was a fate he would do anything to avoid.

    The necromancer¡¯s eyes went wide, and he nodded in understanding. ¡°I understand, My Lord. Thy will be done.¡±

    The skeletal man drew a dagger and moved to draw it across Orin¡¯s exposed neck. ¡°I commend this soul into thy keeping.¡±

    Terror overwhelmed Orin. Death was coming and try as he might, he could not avoid it. Soon, the heat would be his existence, the heat and the screams and the torment, and all he could do was scream in agony and fear for the rest of eternity.

    ¡°Only one thing can protect you,¡± a voice inside him said.

    Orin knew at once what it was. Rage. White hot rage that burned even hotter than the damnation that awaited him. This man. This scrawny man, who would struggle to defend himself against a newborn pup, would condemn him to a life of eternal torment. How dare he? How dare he!

    The warrior gave into the rage, and his rage shattered the spell that had been cast on him. Before the necromancer realized it, the warrior had snapped his arm like a dry twig and tore the head from his shoulders with his bare hands before hurling it across the room with such force that it was crushed into pulp when it struck the far wall.

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    With the necromancer¡¯s death, the spell was broken, and Rus fell gasping to the floor. Orin¡¯s rage, however, had not been sated. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as he approached the hunter, but at the last moment, he regained his senses and steered himself towards the mirror.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Rus choked.

    ¡°Outside,¡± came the terse reply. ¡°Wait a while before following after me if you do not want to get caught up in it.¡±

    ¡°Caught up in what?¡± Orin heard him ask before he stepped through the mirror and appeared back in the basement.

    Orin felt red hot blood pumping through his veins as he climbed the steps out of the basement and into the manor¡¯s foyer. Through the window, he could see it was now dark outside. In the back of his mind, he knew this was a problem, but he didn¡¯t care now. All he could think of was finding an outlet to sate his rage.

    ¡°Where are you?¡± he roared.

    It didn¡¯t take long for an armoured figure to come barrelling out of one of the wings. There was something different about it. Before, it had been measured in its approach, but this time, it charged Orin carelessly. Caught off guard, Orin could only block its shoulder charge with the flat of his sword. To his surprise, the impact sent him flying across the room, sending him crashing through a solid stone wall before crushing the long dining table he landed on in the next hall.

    Were the knights this strong when they last fought? Orin didn¡¯t have time to think about it as he rolled out of the way just as another armoured knight smashed through the remains of the table with its axe.

    Orin cleaved a third knight clean in half as he rolled to his feet. As the creature collapsed, he smashed the legs out of another before driving his sword through its prone helmet. This creature went limp. There were two left. At least for now. The knights were stronger, now, but their movements were feral and easy to predict. Orin sidestepped as one lunged and hacked the other¡¯s head off before skewering the off balance knight from behind.

    Unsatisfied with how easy defeating them had been, he took a step back and waited for them to regenerate. Minutes ticked by and nothing happened. The warrior clicked his tongue irritably. His heart was still pumping, and fighting made him forget his terror. He looked out the window and saw the skeletal villagers staring at him through the window. The warrior licked his lips and walked towards the manor¡¯s front door.

    The battle that ensued was long and brutal. All the warrior focused on was his breathing and swinging his sword as his foes fell around him. He moved like a whirlwind, shattering three or more with each swing of his sword. At times, they threatened to overwhelm him, but the warrior prevailed each time. Despite coming close to death several times, he felt his terror subside as he entered a battle trance, fuelled by his rage. He did not remember the object of his rage, only that it came in waves in the heat of combat, and that it was what would keep death at bay.

    The warrior swung his sword until he lost track of time until he realized there were no more foes to destroy. His body was bathed in sweat and his breathing was ragged as he looked at the crushed bones scattered around him. None of them so much as twitched. There was a slight sense of disappointment when he realized the battle was over, but his fury was satisfied. At least for now.

    ¡°That was quite the show,¡± the warrior tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword until he realized the voice belonged to Rus. ¡°Have you come to your senses?¡±

    The hunter stood unmoving at a safe distance, eyeing the warrior cautiously and prepared to run should he feel his life was in danger.

    ¡°I think so,¡± Orin admitted at length. He then gestured at the bones around him. ¡°We should have come at night. It would have saved us a lot of trouble.¡±

    ¡°That is likely because the necromancer is dead,¡± Rus remarked. He studied warrior for a moment longer before asking. ¡°Do you need a rest before we set out for the gateway?¡±

    Orin took several steps before nodding. ¡°I believe I have discovered the limits of my endurance.¡±

    ¡°My camp isn¡¯t far from here,¡± Rus said. ¡°We can rest there.¡±

    Orin arched an eyebrow. ¡°You trust me now?¡±

    Rus shrugged. ¡°Not really, but this will be my last night in here, and I¡¯d rather have a comfortable sleep after what we¡¯ve been through.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried about that army we saw last night?¡± Orin ventured.

    Rus shook his head. ¡°We¡¯ll tread carefully of course, but I can¡¯t think of anything they¡¯d be interested in on this level. Chances are they have headed further up.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t that bode poorly for you?¡± Orin ventured.

    Rus shrugged. ¡°I can only think of two reasons they¡¯d be heading up. An army from the outside is laying siege to the dungeon entrance and they have been sent to repel it, or perhaps they¡¯re laying siege to Verdant Meadows.¡±

    ¡°Verdant Meadows?¡±

    ¡°The nearest town to this dungeon,¡± Rus explained. ¡°Either way, I want to get out of here as quickly as I can.¡±

    Orin grunted. ¡°Perhaps your demon went up with them.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Rus allowed. ¡°But I¡¯m not telling you how to delve deeper until you take me to the gateway to the upper levels.¡±

    ¡°A deal is a deal,¡± Orin allowed.

    They walked in silence as Rus led the way through the forest. Now that he was free from distractions, Orin¡¯s mind strayed to the heat and the voices, and a chill went down his spine when he thought about how familiar it all was.

    ¡°Are you sure you aren¡¯t hurt anywhere?¡± Rus asked suddenly, startling Orin.

    The warrior removed his hand from the hilt of his greatsword and shook his head. ¡°I was not.¡±

    ¡°Well, you look pale,¡± Rus observed. ¡°Perhaps that spell he cast is still affecting you.¡±

    ¡°Your concern is peculiar,¡± Orin remarked dryly.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong,¡± Rus said, shaking his head. ¡°I just want you in top condition to get rid of that demon for me.¡±

    Orin was about to brush the hunter¡¯s concerns off, but his curiosity got the better of him. ¡°Did you not feel anything down in that basement?¡±

    ¡°I felt plenty,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to be specific.¡±

    ¡°Did you feel a searing heat and hear screams when the necromancer was about to sacrifice me to Urdagon?¡± Orin asked.

    Rus shook his head slowly. ¡°No, did you?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± Orin admitted. ¡°I saw what lay beyond death¡¯s veil and the strange thing is it felt like I¡¯d seen it before, and it terrified me.¡±

    ¡°So, you¡¯re now afraid of death,¡± Rus mused. ¡°You are hardly unique in that respect.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not it,¡± Orin snapped. ¡°The God of Death knew me¡­ He said my soul was his¡­¡±

    ¡°So what¡¯s the big deal?¡± Rus shrugged. ¡°The God of Death comes for us all, in time. The way I see it, the trick is to live a nice full life before He comes for you. That way, when he drags you screaming down into Hell, you¡¯ll have fond memories to look back over your eternity of torment.¡±

    Orin scowled but said nothing, wanting an end to this unproductive conversation. Whoever he was, he had gone beyond death¡¯s door before, and try as he might to remember its details, they always seemed just out of reach. The raw, primal terror, though, he seemed to recall well enough.

 Chapter 8

    Warmth and softness enveloped Orin, sapping him of his will to get up. It was a novel feeling to the warrior. He must have lived a spartan lifestyle in his previous life. One that was unaccustomed to things like warm beds. His previous life. That was what he was calling the time before he lost his memories. He wanted to distance himself as much as possible from the person he had once been after his brush with the God of Death.

    It was still dark, and his eyelids were heavy, but Orin resisted the urge to close them. His heart was thumping, and he recalled why he had woken up in the first place. His instincts were screaming that danger was close. He rose slowly and saw Rus crouched by the entrance with his bow in his hands. They were in his lair, a small cave in one of the cavern¡¯s walls. Its entrance was obscured by shrubbery, and a tripwire was strung across the threshold. According to Rus, the greatest threat to his little sanctuary was other delvers.

    Silently, Orin climbed out of bed and reached for his longsword. He would have preferred the greatsword, but swinging such a weapon in this confined space would prove difficult. He exchanged looks with Rus, knowing better than to speak and give their position away. Danger was close, but it hadn¡¯t found them yet.

    As he crept over to the opposite side of the entrance the hunter was crouched, his clothes brushed against his skin. Rus had found them in the manor¡¯s basement, among other things, and Orin found them deeply uncomfortable. He deeply regretted allowing the hunter to convince him to not sleep in his armour.

    ¡°I told you I smelled ¡®em,¡± a roughly accented voice said. ¡°Good thing we came back, eh?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± another voice said. ¡°Let¡¯s stick ¡®em quick and get back to the others before the fun begins, eh?¡±

    Orin shot Rus a look. Could these be delvers?

    The hunter shook his head and held up two fingers, indicating there were two of them outside. Orin shrugged and got off his haunches. If there were more, the cave was a dead end, and they could be trapped inside all too easily. No reason not to take the fight out into the open now that they had been found.

    Orin strode out into the forest and found a pair of green skins approaching the cave entrance. These were bigger than the ones he had slaughtered in the area over the chapel and the head of a dog was etched into the breastplates of their thick plate armour that had been painted black, but what surprised Orin most of all was that they were speaking a language he could understand.

    ¡°Looks like this one has a pair on ¡®im, eh?¡± one of them remarked.

    ¡°Say, doesn¡¯t he smell familiar?¡± the other asked as he strained his eyes against the dim light.

    Deciding to capitalize on their moment of confusion, Orin charged the pair. As he did, an arrow flew from the cave entrance, bursting into flames as it struck one of the greenskins in the chest. As the creature plucked it out, its partner rushed forward to meet Orin.

    The creature¡¯s steel mace clashed with Orin¡¯s longsword with such force that it bent his weapon slightly and sent a shooting pain through the his wrist. He gritted his teeth as he drew his weapon back and regretted not having his greatsword with him. By now, the creature¡¯s partner was circling past Orin towards the cave. This one grunted in surprise as another arrow flew from the cave, striking him in the foot before into ice, freezing the creature to the ground.

    Meanwhile, Orin¡¯s foe let out a bloodcurdling roar before charging the warrior. With its bent blade, Orin¡¯s longsword was now useless as a thrusting weapon, so he flipped it around to use as a makeshift club. He sidestepped the orc¡¯s clumsy thrust and spun around to land a savage strike against the greenskin¡¯s knee as it thundered past. The creature barked in surprise as it tumbled to the ground. As it attempted to pick itself up, Orin struck it in the back of its helmeted head, and the creature went limp.

    Before Orin could deliver the finishing blow, the other greenskin tackled him from behind. The warrior thrashed and twisted violently as they grappled on the ground, realizing that he was at a distinct disadvantage without his weapon.

    ¡°Lord Garthan, stop!¡± the creature pleaded. ¡°We didn¡¯t know it was you.¡±

    The name triggered recognition, and Orin stopped struggling. It felt as though he had finally recalled a word that had been lingering on the tip of his tongue. The pair slowly untangled themselves and eyed one another warily.

    ¡°How do you know that name?¡± he demanded.

    The creature¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°We saw you¡­ up in the castle. Five days ago now, it was.¡±

    ¡°Who was¡­ am I?¡± Orin asked.

    Before the creature could reply, an arrow struck it in its exposed throat and burst into flames, and it fell to the ground. Horrified, Orin rushed over to it.

    ¡°Tell me, who am I?¡± he demanded but it was useless. The creature was quickly drowning on its own blood while flames engulfed it. The warrior glanced over at its companion that had been set ablaze by more fire arrows.

    Enraged, he whirled around to the cave entrance and roared. ¡°What have you done?¡±

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    When there was no answer, Orin began to storm over. After he had taken two steps, an arrow landed at his feet, freezing the ground around it.

    ¡°Explain yourself!¡± Orin shouted. ¡°They knew who I am and were about to tell me!¡±

    ¡°The Black Dogs are the Dungeon Master¡¯s personal guard,¡± Rus¡¯ voice was stern and unwavering as he hid in the darkness of the cave. ¡°If you are a lord of this dungeon, that makes us enemies.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember who I was,¡± Orin said. ¡°So, where does that leave us?¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me?¡± Rus shot back.

    Orin thought it over for a moment before replying. ¡°The truth is, the more I learn about the man I was, the less I like him. If you decide you can¡¯t trust me anymore, we can part ways here without any hard feelings. All I ask is that you let me back inside to retrieve my belongings or bring them out for me and point me in the direction of the deeper levels.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d like that, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± the hunter said at length. ¡°Since we¡¯re both up anyway, why don¡¯t we head for the gateway?¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a plan,¡± Orin agreed.

    ¡°So, what do I call you from now on?¡± Rus asked as he emerged from the cave.

    ¡°Orin,¡± the warrior replied. ¡°I am not this Garthan fellow, whoever he was.¡±

    The cavern had brightened considerably by the time Rus and Orin emerged onto a broad, stone paved road that began abruptly at the forest¡¯s edge. Orin looked up and shook his head.

    ¡°It really is a gateway,¡± he remarked.

    The gateway was a set of large, ornate wrought iron gates that had been thrown open. On the other side was a darkened tunnel.

    ¡°What did you think it was?¡± Rus snorted. ¡°Are you ready?¡±

    Orin smirked. Those were the first words they had exchanged since leaving Rus¡¯ camp. ¡°Since we¡¯re talking again, how long have you had magic arrows for?¡±

    The hunter gave Orin a look, and the warrior arched an eyebrow. ¡°What? If this foe is as formidable as you say, it won¡¯t hurt to know all our options?¡±

    Rus shrugged and gestured at the two quivers at his hip. ¡°Notice anything different?¡±

    ¡°Just spit it out,¡± Orin snapped.

    ¡°I found them in the basement while you were working out your anger issues,¡± Rus said. ¡°I call them Fire and Ice and they conjure arrows with the corresponding effects.¡±

    ¡°Quite the find,¡± Orin remarked. ¡°Did you find anything else?¡±

    The hunter shrugged again. ¡°Nothing you would be interested in. Shall we?¡±

    Orin nodded and stepped forward. He had only walked five paces when someone shouted from the trees behind them. ¡°Wait!¡±

    Orin whirled around and drew his greatsword as three figures emerged from the undergrowth. Two were men, clad in boiled leather cuirasses. One was armed with a spear and the other carried a short sword and a buckler. The third member of their group was a woman who wore a chainmail shirt and clutched a staff. All three of them looked young and battered.

    ¡°Delvers,¡± Rus breathed. ¡°Stay your hand.¡±

    ¡°Hail,¡± the hunter then called to the trio. ¡°What business have you here?¡±

    ¡°There is a great beast beyond those gates,¡± the one with the buckler gasped. ¡°To face it means certain death.¡±

    ¡°Twenty of us banded together in an attempt to defeat it days ago,¡± the one armed with a spear added. ¡°We three are all that remain.¡±

    ¡°Well, fear not, I¡¯ll get vengeance for your friends,¡± Orin said wearily. ¡°Your sign that it is safe to go in will be me coming out, covered in the creature¡¯s blood.¡±

    ¡°Now hold on,¡± Rus said and pointed at the woman. ¡°You, you¡¯re a cleric, I take it?¡±

    The young woman held up a silver dove that hung from a chain around her neck and nodded.

    ¡°She could be useful,¡± Rus remarked.

    ¡°And the others?¡± Orin ventured.

    The hunter shrugged. ¡°They don¡¯t look like much.¡±

    ¡°Neither do you,¡± the words left Orin¡¯s mouth before he could stop himself and he regretted them deeply when he saw the flash of irritation on the hunter¡¯s face.

    ¡°Well, maybe they¡¯ll be useful as distractions,¡± Rus growled. ¡°That is if they want to come.¡±

    Orin nodded and turned to the woman. ¡°Could you come with us? My friend¡­¡±

    ¡°Associate,¡± Rus corrected him.

    ¡°My associate seems to think you can help.¡±

    The woman shrank back in fear, and the two men stepped forward and placed themselves between her and Orin.

    ¡°She doesn¡¯t want to come,¡± Orin said as he turned towards the gate. ¡°I will go alone.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± the woman said. Her voice was small and frail, but as clear as a bell. ¡°I will go with you.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± the one with a shield gasped.

    ¡°We barely escaped with our lives the last time!¡± the other exclaimed.

    ¡°I will go,¡± she repeated, more determined this time. ¡°That thing slaughtered our friends. I will not stand idly by while another goes to take revenge on our behalf.¡±

    ¡°The woman¡¯s made her decision,¡± Rus said, observing the two men with an amused smile on his lips. ¡°The two of you are knights?¡±

    ¡°Squires,¡± the one with a buckler said hotly. ¡°And I know your type, you¡¯re a filthy poacher!¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re squires, I take it your masters got butchered by that thing?¡± Rus ventured. An evil smile crossed his lips when the two young men began to squirm.

    ¡°They ordered us to take the lady to safety!¡± the one with a shield protested at length.

    ¡°And now she is going back into the breach,¡± Rus pointed out. ¡°Are you going to stand aside and let her go alone?¡±

    The pair glared at Rus but were unable to retort. At length, the one with a shield¡¯s shoulders sagged. ¡°He¡¯s right. If we stand idly by here and manage to eventually escape this wretched place, how will we ever face our family and friends again?¡±

    The one with a spear scowled for a moment before sighing. ¡°You speak rightly. I shall go as well.¡±

    ¡°Might I ask for your names?¡± the woman asked as she hurried after Rus and Orin.

    ¡°No names,¡± the hunter said sharply. ¡°At least not yet. Not until we know the measure of one another. I will address you as Cleric, Shield, and Spear.¡±

    ¡°How dare you speak to her in that manner!¡± Spear cried, breaking into a run to catch up with the two men.

    ¡°No, he¡¯s right,¡± the woman said. ¡°Besides, rank has no meaning down here. If they get us to the surface, we should treat them as heroes.¡±

    Orin passed through the gates and found it strange that he felt none of the usual excitement from an impending battle. Then, a shiver ran down his spine. It was as though something was exuding a foreboding aura further down the tunnel.

    ¡°There it is,¡± Rus hissed.

    Standing in the middle of the tunnel, at the foot of a broad stairs was a horned, red skinned creature that stood over twice Orin¡¯s height. It possessed leathery wings, and a cruel scar ran across its face. Its eyes were as black as coals and locked onto Orin¡¯s as it leaned on a large sword that stood almost as tall as Orin and was as wide as Rus¡¯ waist.

    Then, Orin realized the tunnel around the creature was strewn with bodies. Most looked like they had been torn apart by an explosion.

    ¡°Lord Garthan,¡± it rumbled. The word ¡®lord¡¯ was said in a mocking tone. ¡°I have been waiting for you.¡±

    Behind him, Orin heard a bow strain and wondered if the arrow was pointed at him, or at the creature. It scarcely mattered now.

 Chapter 9

    Orin¡¯s first instinct was to attack. To seize the initiative and to turn the momentum of battle in his favour. At least that¡¯s what his brain said, but he found himself rooted to the spot. The others were the same, rooted in fear. Fear. Was he afraid? Of this creature? The thought of that rankled him, but he curbed his anger. It seemed this creature knew of him. The past him. Besides, it wasn¡¯t attacking. Yet.

    The demon sighed and raised its hand, causing the others, Orin included to take an involuntary step back. It shook his head and made a grimace that seemed to be an attempt at a bemused smile before holding up a crystal ball and muttering an incantation. The ball began to glow with a soft blue light, and soon, a face appeared within that was obscured by a hood worn low over it.

    ¡°He is here, Master,¡± the demon said, bowing its head deferentially before turning the ball so that it faced Orin.

    The figure in the ball looked at Orin expectantly. When the warrior didn¡¯t answer, he sighed. ¡°Well, what do you have to say for yourself?¡±

    The man¡¯s voice was familiar and caused the warrior¡¯s temper to flare. This was no friend of his. ¡°Who are you?¡± he demanded.

    The man sighed again. ¡°The memories did not hold. Appraise him. See if he is of use to us.¡±

    ¡°And if he isn¡¯t?¡± the demon ventured.

    ¡°I will leave that to your discretion.¡±

    The demon let the ball fall from its taloned hand and turned to Orin. They were standing roughly a hundred yards apart, but the demon closed the distance in the blink of an eye. Orin scarcely had time to raise his weapon as the creature brought its sword down. Behind him, he heard the woman chant quickly.

    A faint blue barrier crackled into existence around Orin just as the demon¡¯s weapon was about to land. However, it shattered in the blink of an eye, and the swords made contact. The impact from the blow sent Orin hurtling across the tunnel and crashing into a stone wall.

    Orin gasped from pain as he struggled to his feet. The demon flapped its wings, sending out gusts of hot wind that scalded the face and drove the others back. Orin rolled out of the way as the demon brought the sword down on where he had been lying with such force that it shook the ground under their feet.

    The warrior¡¯s head went blank, and he felt helpless in the face of such power. The creature slowly got to its feet, keeping its back to the warrior and shook its head.

    ¡°Are you so gripped with fear that you would not even attack my exposed back?¡± it asked, sounding disappointed.

    Orin was stunned. The creature was right. It had provided the perfect opportunity for him to attack. Why hadn¡¯t he taken it? He was afraid. Terrified. What of? Death? Death would come anyway if he cowered in fear. Was he waiting for someone to come save him? That thought angered him. That would make him no better than the three cowards who had hidden in the forest while their companions were slaughtered.

    ¡°How far you¡¯ve fallen,¡± the demon continued. It turned around slowly and ran a taloned hand over the scar on its face. ¡°To think that I suffered my only defeat to your hands in eight hundred years of existence.¡±

    The demon took to the air again and landed on the one carrying the shield, who had attempted to make a run for the stairs, crushing him under a hoofed foot.

    ¡°Dustan!¡± the woman cried.

    ¡°I had intended to run you through with your own sword,¡± the creature said. ¡°But there would be no sport in slaughtering you as you are now. Take it up. See if it jogs your memory. If you are not able to put up a challenge, I will end you here and toss you among the other cowards who attempted to escape.¡±

    Orin closed his hand around the sword. It was heavy. Far heavier than the greatsword from the manor, but its weight in his hands was familiar. Like an old companion. He swung it, and it made a dreadful sound as it cut through the air.

    ¡°It appears that some measure of the old you has returned.¡± A smile crept across its face, and it held its arms out in the air. Moments later, an axe materialized in each of its hands, seemingly out of thin air. Each was bone white and as tall as the average man.

    Orin held the massive blade out in front of him and took a deep breath. He was hit in the face by another gust of scalding wind as the creature took to the air, but this time, he didn¡¯t flinch. Instead, he focused on his anger. Anger that this creature had taken pity on him. Anger at its words. He would choke it on them.

    The warrior sidestepped the first axe as the creature landed and angled his sword to deflect the second into the ground next to him. Though the angle was perfect, the initial impact still shook his bones. The warrior ignored his screaming muscles as he brought his sword around to strike at the creature¡¯s knee.

    The demon raised its cloven hoof to avoid the strike before taking to the air again, this time it landed a good distance away and shook the tunnel with its laughter.

    ¡°That was better, but not enough to make my blood boil,¡± it roared.

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    ¡°Come back here and I¡¯ll do more than boil your blood,¡± Orin roared back. The warrior didn¡¯t for a response and began closing the distance. He knew he could not just sit back and defend against this creature. Besides, that wasn¡¯t his style.

    The creature flapped its wings again, but this time, instead of propelling the demon up, they propelled it forward. Orin¡¯s first instinct was to step out of the way, but the fighter in him told him that a clash was the better option. The warrior planted his feet and swung his weapon with all of his might. Their weapons clashed, but the momentum behind the demon sent Orin hurtling into another wall.

    The demon didn¡¯t give him a moment to recover and was on top of him in a flash. Another deflected blow created an opening, and Orin gritted his teeth when he felt the muscles in his arm tear as he brought the sword around for a quick counter, bringing it down on the creature¡¯s shoulder. The creature roared in pain as the sword bit into its flesh. The cut wasn¡¯t deep, and Orin knew it. His body had given out at the last.

    The demon lashed out with a fist, sending Orin flying, but the warrior clung stubbornly onto his sword, which clattered on top of him. Slowly, the warrior got to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain in his side. His ribs were probably broken and his left arm hung limply by his side. He had torn the muscles in that arm to unleash his last strike. He knew his situation was hopeless, but he was determined not to go down without a fight. Using his remaining strength, he lifted the massive sword onto his shoulder. He had one last strike in him, then he was done.

    The demon knew this and grinned wickedly as it cast one of its axes aside and held the remaining one with both hands. The next exchange would be the last and Orin would put everything into his swing. The demon flapped its wings and flew towards him like an arrow. Orin unleashed his swing early, targeting the creature¡¯s axe. The weapon flew from its hands, but the warrior lacked the strength to capitalize on the opening.

    The demon recovered in time to bring its fist down on Orin¡¯s back. The warrior fell to the ground with a sickening crack. Then came the second blow, and Orin blacked out for a moment. Fear mixed with rage, and he forced his broken body to stand. He held stubbornly onto his sword even though he no longer possessed the strength to lift it.

    The creature was poised to bring another double handed blow down on Orin¡¯s head but instead, stepped back and wiped the black spittle from its mouth. ¡°Ah, I forgot my instructions for a moment there.¡±

    Orin looked up and was at a loss. He had committed himself to a battle to the death and forgotten everything else.

    ¡°You could still be of use to the master,¡± the demon observed. ¡°Though you have a long way to go.¡±

    ¡°You were a hairsbreadth to being cut in two,¡± Orin spat.

    The demon let out a feral snarl and lunged for Orin when the crystal ball flared back into life, and the voice from earlier spoke. ¡°That is enough, Gatekeeper.¡±

    The demon stopped in its tracks and let out a frustrated roar.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± Orin demanded as he limped towards the ball.

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember?¡± the figure asked. Slowly, he began to pull back his hood.

    He could not put a name to the face, but it was familiar, and it triggered intense hate in him, followed by blinding rage. With a furious roar, he forced his ruined muscles to lift his sword and brought it down on the ball. When his sword struck the orb, it exploded with a blinding white light and an unseen force propelled him across the tunnel.

    ¡°I will be waiting for you in the castle,¡± he heard the man¡¯s voice say as his consciousness began to slip. ¡°I look forward to seeing you again, old friend.¡±

    Orin forced his eyes open. He knew he had been unconscious but was unsure for how long. He scrambled to his feet and reached for his sword but found that it wasn¡¯t sheathed across his back and that he wasn¡¯t wearing his armour. His heart sank. He was unarmed and ripe for the taking. Then, he realized he wasn¡¯t alone. The woman, Spear, and Rus were all looking at him.

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯re awake,¡± the hunter remarked and looked pointedly at a pile of weapons nearby. ¡°Your things are over there.¡±

    ¡°How long was I out for?¡± Orin asked. As he picked his weapons up, beginning with the massive sword the demon said was his, he found that his body was sore, but wasn¡¯t in pain like he was expecting.

    ¡°I took the liberty of healing you,¡± she said. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    ¡°No, I¡­¡± the warrior struggled to articulate the words before simply deciding to say. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Well, you¡¯re conscious, and all is well,¡± Rus said.

    ¡°The demon, what happened to it?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°He left,¡± Spear said. ¡°It looked like he tore a hole in the fabric of reality and just disappeared through it.¡±

    Orin stared at the young man for a moment before shaking his head and shooting Rus an inquisitive look.

    ¡°That¡¯s about how I would describe it,¡± the hunter agreed. ¡°Never seen anything like it. Then again, I¡¯ve never encountered a demon before either.¡±

    Orin couldn¡¯t help but feel deeply frustrated. He had been bested, and his foe had spared his life. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from cursing out loud.

    ¡°How do you feel?¡± the woman asked as she looked at Orin with concern. ¡°Does it hurt anywhere?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Orin said after stretching his limbs. ¡°You¡¯ve done a fine job.¡±

    ¡°We can¡¯t thank you enough,¡± she said. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t for you, we would have died down here.¡±

    ¡°You should accompany us on our journey to the surface,¡± Spear offered.

    Orin thought he saw a hint of doubt in both Spear and the woman¡¯s faces but shrugged it off. He shook his head and turned back towards the gates behind them. ¡°No, it appears my business is in the castle.¡±

    ¡°You know it¡¯s a trap, don¡¯t you?¡± Rus remarked.

    Orin nodded. ¡°It might well be, but it¡¯s the only clue I have to discovering who I once was.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you just forget about him?¡± Rus ventured. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t much care for him anyway.¡±

    Orin smirked before pausing thoughtfully. At length, he shook his head. ¡°No, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t just let this lie. I have business with that man in the orb.¡±

    ¡°He is the master of this dungeon,¡± Spear pointed out.

    ¡°So?¡±

    ¡°It means he is a literal God down here,¡± Rus explained.

    ¡°Then it looks like I¡¯m going to have a chat with God,¡± Orin remarked dryly before hefting his sword pointedly.

    Rus sighed and turned to the others. ¡°What did I say? He¡¯s made up his mind and won¡¯t be convinced otherwise.¡±

    ¡°That is a shame,¡± the woman remarked.

    Rus sighed again and extended his hand towards the warrior. ¡°It looks like this is where we part ways. You were a pain in the arse and I¡¯m glad to see the back of you.¡±

    Orin glared at the hunter who broke into a broad smile. ¡°What, would you rather we wept on one another¡¯s shoulders?¡±

    Orin broke into a grin and shook the hunter¡¯s hand. ¡°No, this is fine. You were a coward until the end. You didn¡¯t fire a single arrow at that creature, did you?¡±

    Rus arched an eyebrow. ¡°Are you crazy? You saw what it did to their chum.¡±

    The hunter attempted to pull away, but Orin held fast onto his hand. ¡°Hold on, you haven¡¯t held up your end of our bargain. How do I get to the deeper levels?¡±

 Chapter 10

    The wind carried familiar smell. Smoke, blood, bodily waste all mixed together. The stench of a battlefield. Orin was on guard as he emerged from the forest. The stone face was in the distance over his right shoulder, and before him, a set of stairs that descended deeper into the dungeon. Bodies had been gathered in a pile in the middle of the path that led towards the stairs that led up. A dozen armoured greenskins squatted nearby, chatting amongst themselves. Meanwhile, two more greenskins hammered on the cavern¡¯s stone walls.

    The greenskins lolling by the bodies got to their feet when they noticed Orin¡¯s approach. The warrior was disappointed to see that these weren¡¯t from the Black Dog Guards. One of them stepped forward and drew its blade.

    ¡°Another delver, lads,¡± it snarled. ¡°Leave this one to me.¡±

    ¡°How come you get this one, eh?¡± another one demanded as it stepped forward, brandishing a scimitar. ¡°My blade didn¡¯t get to taste a drop of blood in the last battle. He¡¯s mine.¡±

    ¡°Blame yourself for being the weakest,¡± the first one spat.

    ¡°Hold on,¡± another warned. This was the biggest and was armed with a halberd that stood taller than it did. ¡°There is a familiar smell about this one.¡±

    ¡°Familiar or not, I am here as your enemy,¡± Orin said as he drew his blade. ¡°Come one at a time or all at once, it makes no difference to me.¡±

    The large one let out a warning that sounded like a mix between a lion¡¯s snarl and a dog¡¯s growl. The two hammering on the wall stopped what they were doing to join the others while Orin continued his slow and menacing approach.

    Unable to contain themselves for any longer, the first two broke ranks and charged. They were both bisected by a single swing of Orin¡¯s enormous sword. The warrior clicked his tongue irritably. The swing wasn¡¯t how he had envisioned it. It had to be quicker with less hesitation, and his control could stand to be a lot better. He shook his blade to dislodge the remains of the second one¡¯s torso and saw that the greenskins were rooted in place.

    He advanced slowly. His swings left much to be desired, and he needed the practice if he was to face off against the demon again. There were probably more creatures of that level deeper in the dungeon as well. He would get to the heart of the dungeon and confront this place¡¯s master, and then¡­ And then what?

    The warrior paused, and the orcs seized his moment of distraction. Four charged from the front while the remainder circled around him. The warrior swung as the first of them entered his range. The creature dodged backwards but fell over as the massive sword severed its foot. The others lunged forward, but Orin recovered his sword quickly and unleashed a torrent of steel that shredded them to pieces.

    His eyebrow twitched as he looked around for any further signs of danger. These greenskins had scarcely posed a challenge. His strokes had been clumsy, but they had been unable to even scratch his armour.

    ¡°Hello?¡± a male voice called from behind the wall the greenskins were pounding on. ¡°Is someone out there?¡±

    Orin sighed and approached the wall. He paused to look down the stairs, wondering if he should make himself known. Over the past day, he¡¯d found that he preferred to travel alone. Then, his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn¡¯t eaten since parting ways with Rus and the others and that he had no inkling of how to feed himself. It was pathetic, and he cursed not at least learning the basics from the hunter.

    ¡°The greenskins are dead,¡± he called out. ¡°It is safe to come out.¡±

    He heard the voice on the other side mutter an incantation, and a hole appeared in the wall large enough for a single blue eye to peer out. The eye widened when it saw the dismembered orcs.

    ¡°You did that?¡± he asked. ¡°Alone?¡±

    ¡°Yes, what of it?¡± Orin demanded.

    The owner of the eye backed away in alarm, and Orin took a deep breath to calm himself. ¡°All I want is some food. Do you have any you could spare?¡±

    The hole widened slightly, and a packet of dried meat flew through it moments later, landing at Orin¡¯s feet. The warrior picked it up and devoured it greedily. It was salty, but he was famished and beyond caring. Another incantation began, and Orin placed a hand on his sword.

    ¡°Peace, I am just coming out,¡± the voice said. ¡°So we can talk face to face.¡±

    The stone wall collapsed into a heap of loose rocks, and a man stepped out from what the remains of what appeared to be a tavern¡¯s main room. Orin found his proportions curious. He was short, scarcely coming up to Orin¡¯s waist, but his shoulders were wide, almost as broad as the warrior at the shoulder. He wore scaled armour and was armed with a pair of hammers.

    ¡°The name¡¯s Gronthil,¡± he said, bowing so low that his thick brown beard swept the floor. ¡°And who might you be, sir?¡±

    ¡°Orin,¡± the warrior replied.

    The dwarf gave him a sideways look and arched an eyebrow. ¡°I appreciate that delvers shouldn¡¯t exchange names so easily, a silly belief if you ask me, but you are speaking to a dwarf who is well aware that Orin is the name of your armour smith.¡±

    The warrior shrugged. ¡°I do not know my true name. Orin has sufficed so far.¡±

    Gronthil gave Orin a quizzical look. ¡°You don¡¯t know your name?¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I¡¯ve lost my memories.¡±

    The dwarf studied him for a moment longer before shrugging. ¡°I suppose that¡¯s not the strangest thing I¡¯ve heard this week.¡±

    Orin then gave him a curious look. ¡°You said you¡¯re a dwarf¡­¡±

    Gronthil¡¯s bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. ¡°Have you not seen a dwarf before?¡±

    Orin shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so, no...¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a surprise,¡± Gronthil muttered, then his eyes brightened. ¡°Ah, you must be from the Northern Provinces. Cold doesn¡¯t agree with my kind, so we tend not to venture up there.¡±

    Orin¡¯s stomach growled and the dwarf burst into laughter. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, there¡¯s more salt meat in there. Enough to last the two of us from now until doomsday. I¡¯m positively sick of the stuff myself, but if you can stomach it, eat your fill.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take you up on your offer,¡± Orin said as he stepped past the dwarf and into the tavern.

    ¡°So, where are you off to, Orin?¡± Gronthil asked. ¡°Gods it¡¯s good to talk to another person.¡±

    ¡°To the castle,¡± Orin replied as he entered the kitchen. His eyes lit up when he saw a large slab of salt meat soaking in a pot of water.

    ¡°There¡¯s a surprise,¡± Gronthil remarked, standing at the doorway. ¡°I¡¯d expect most people were aiming to leave. We were on our way out when these fellows ambushed us. I was able to seal myself in in the nick of time.¡±

    The dwarf¡¯s voice fell. ¡°My companions weren¡¯t so lucky.¡±

    Orin stuffed his face and nodded along. He soon grew thirsty and drained a nearby tankard. Its contents were bitter, but the taste was nostalgic. Then, he felt light headed and swayed on his feet. He whirled around and glared at the dwarf.

    ¡°You¡¯ve poisoned me!¡± he exclaimed. Orin reached for his sword but missed on his first attempt.

    ¡°I¡¯m surprised you¡¯re still standing after downing a pint of old Forden¡¯s paint stripper,¡± Gronthil chuckled. The dwarf held up a hand and took a sip from the same tankard before shaking his head. ¡°But sometimes, a strong brew is just the thing to forget the horrors of this place, eh?¡±

    Orin took a step back and braced himself against a wall. His head was spinning, but the sensation was not unfamiliar.

    ¡°So, what business have you in the castle?¡± Gronthil ventured. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re aiming to get to the bottom of this latest bout of goings on.¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± Orin managed.

    The dwarf nodded slowly and looked out at the mangled greenskin bodies on the path. ¡°I think you just might do it as well¡­¡±

    Orin didn¡¯t like where the conversation was heading. ¡°If you¡¯re worried about the Gatekeeper, I¡¯ve dealt with him. Some companions of mine have already headed to the surface.¡±

    Gronthil arched an eyebrow. ¡°Gatekeeper? Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve heard of that.¡±

    ¡°All I¡¯m trying to say is that the path to the surface is clear.¡±

    Gronthil chuckled. ¡°Ah, a lone wolf. Say no more.¡±

    Relieved that the dwarf seemed to understand, Orin nodded and returned to his meal. He looked forward to eating his fill for the first time in his current life. The dwarf watched him with curiosity that quickly turned to concern.

    ¡°Hold on, you¡¯re fresh from the forest, and you¡¯re just going to gorge yourself on salted meat?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Is that a problem?¡± Orin demanded with his mouth full.

    ¡°Salted meat keeps well enough, but it¡¯s not very nutritious,¡± Gronthil pointed out. ¡°Give me a moment and I¡¯ll see what I can forage in the woods.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Orin called.

    The dwarf paused and his eyes widened in surprise. ¡°You weren¡¯t thinking of setting off straight away, were you?¡±

    ¡°What if I was?¡± Orin ventured.

    ¡°Is this your first time down here?¡± Gronthil asked.

    Orin shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s fair to say.¡±

    ¡°Then you should at least spend the night,¡± Gronthil warned. ¡°It gets tougher in the deeper levels, and rest will be hard to come by, especially if you¡¯re travelling alone.¡±

    Orin frowned, and the dwarf placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Listen, I owe you my life, so the last thing I want is for you to run off and get yourself killed because you were unprepared. Rest the night, get a good meal or two in your belly. You won¡¯t regret it. Whatever you seek in the castle can wait another half a day.¡±

    Orin thought it over for a moment before nodding reluctantly. ¡°I suppose it wouldn¡¯t hurt.¡±

    ¡°Good man,¡± the dwarf grinned. ¡°Now, wait here and after we¡¯ve eaten, I¡¯ll break out the good stuff.¡±

    Dinner was the finest meal Orin had eaten. It was a simple dish of salted meat fried with a head of cabbage Gronthil had pilfered from the greenskin¡¯s supplies, together with dwarven bread, which was thick, black, and hearty. All of this was topped off with a vintage wine the dwarf said was the pride and joy of the tavern owner, who was now sadly deceased.

    ¡°Ah, that was a fine meal,¡± Gronthil declared. The dwarf pushed his chair away from the table and rubbed his heaving belly. ¡°A fine meal indeed. Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever share another for a while there.¡±

    ¡°You look tired,¡± Orin observed. ¡°Perhaps you should sleep. I can take first watch.¡±

    ¡°Awful generous of you, my friend,¡± the dwarf said as he struggled to his feet. ¡°But I have work to do.¡±

    ¡°Work?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°Aye,¡± Gronthil said. His tone turned melancholy as he waddled towards the entryway. ¡°A lot of my friends died in the ambush, plenty of acquaintances as well. Seems only right to bury them.¡±

    Orin grunted. Burial rites. He recalled nothing about them but perhaps seeing them done would jog his memory. He still recalled almost nothing about who he was, but he was sure about one thing. He had killed his fair share of people, and he was sure it wasn¡¯t just monsters in this dungeon either.

    ¡°I¡¯ll help,¡± he offered.

    Gronthil paused. ¡°That¡¯s mighty generous of you, but its unnecessary, I assure you. You¡¯ve done plenty just by avenging them.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I will be able to sleep, anyway,¡± Orin said as he got to his feet.

    ¡°Alright,¡± the dwarf conceded. ¡°But you won¡¯t be needing that.¡±

    The warrior strapped his greatsword across his back and shook his head. ¡°This goes where I go. We don¡¯t know what¡¯s out there.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re probably right,¡± Gronthil sighed.

    Orin followed the dwarf to a clearing behind the inn and watched as he began an incantation. When he was finished, he brought his foot down, and the ground began to shake underfoot. Orin took a step back as a large ditch appeared in the ground.

    ¡°Is that magic?¡± the warrior asked.

    ¡°Aye, I¡¯m a stoneshaper,¡± Gronthil replied. ¡°Mastery over stone. It¡¯s how I barricaded myself in the tavern. Shame I couldn¡¯t save anyone else.¡±

    ¡°You did well to survive,¡± was all Orin could think to say.

    Gronthil smiled wanly. ¡°That¡¯s kind of you to say.¡±

    Together, they brought the bodies from the pile and laid them as gently as they could in the ditch. The lights overhead had dimmed completely by the time their work was done, and Orin listened politely while Gronthil said a quick prayer before using his power to fill in the ditch.

    ¡°Are you going to do anything about the greenskins?¡± Orin ventured.

    The dwarf made a face. ¡°Pile them up and set fire to them, I suppose.¡±

    As they turned back towards the path, Orin saw a pair of shadowy figures emerge from the trees and gripped the hilt of his sword.

    ¡°Who goes there?¡± he called.

    ¡°Orin, is that you?¡± the voice belonged to Rus.

    ¡°Thank goodness we found you in time,¡± the woman cried as the two came running over.

    ¡°Friends of yours?¡± Gronthil asked.

    Orin nodded and the dwarf¡¯s eyes went wide in astonishment. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way but I didn¡¯t think you were the type to have any.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Orin asked as they approached. Their faces were pale, and both looked exhausted. ¡°I thought you were leaving.¡±

    ¡°The way to the upper levels,¡± Rus panted. ¡°It is shut.¡±

 Chapter 11

    Dinner was an awkward affair. They sat around a table in the tavern¡¯s main room, and Gronthil had sealed the door again for safety. Orin had been pretending not to notice the tense glances the woman, whose name he learned was Darla, and Rus had been exchanging since they¡¯d arrived. He assumed that whatever it was about had nothing to do with him.

    Meanwhile, Rus shared their experiences since they parted ways. They had climbed the stairs for hours and found no end in sight. Eventually, he and Darla decided to turn around. Shield, meanwhile, was unwilling to turn back and decided to continue climbing. Almost as soon as they¡¯d turned around, Darla and Rus had found themselves back in the tunnel. When they attempted to climb again to find Shield, he was nowhere to be found.

    ¡°Cursed to climb and endless stair for eternity,¡± Gronthil said and shuddered.

    ¡°It¡¯s likely he will find himself back in the tunnel like we did as soon as he turns around,¡± Darla said. ¡°But we couldn¡¯t stay there and wait. We¡¯d be trapped if any more of the dungeon¡¯s creatures showed up.¡±

    ¡°Aye, it could not have been an easy decision, abandoning a friend who does not want to be saved,¡± Gronthil remarked. ¡°A company of Black Dogs marched through two nights ago. No telling when they might be back, or if more will follow after them.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re trapped trapped,¡± Darla fumed. ¡°The dungeon was so benign up until a week ago.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s almost like we were lured in,¡± Gronthil agreed.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°For weeks, the dungeon¡¯s monsters appeared to grow weaker, while its treasures grew more lucrative,¡± Darla explained.

    ¡°Naturally that attracted more delvers,¡± Gronthil added. ¡°People were cautious at first, of course, but eventually, greed got the better of many, myself included, I am ashamed to admit.¡±

    ¡°Then the dungeon changed the rules,¡± Rus breathed. ¡°This was all news to me. I just hunt this level.¡±

    Darla then looked pointedly at Orin. ¡°Knowing this, do you still plan to travel to the dungeon¡¯s centre?¡±

    The warrior nodded.

    ¡°What do you plan to do once you get there?¡± she pressed.

    ¡°This place¡¯s master seems to know who I am,¡± Orin said. ¡°I will have him explain what happened to me.¡±

    ¡°And if he told you that you were a dungeon lord and that he has a seat ready for you?¡± Darla asked.

    Orin frowned thoughtfully, and Rus remarked. ¡°That is a likely scenario from what we¡¯ve heard.¡±

    At length, Orin replied. ¡°I can¡¯t answer with certainty, but as I¡¯ve said, I have a strong belief that I do not like the man I once was, and I know the relationship between myself, and the master of this place is no longer cordial.¡±

    Darla nodded and took a deep breath. ¡°What if I told you I know who you are?¡±

    Orin¡¯s eyebrows shot up. When the others stood and took a step back from the table, he realized that he had clenched his fist into a tight ball. Slowly, he forced himself to relax and levelled his gaze on the young woman. ¡°Out with it, then.¡±

    Cautiously, Darla took her seat again. ¡°I believe you are Garthan of Aderan, a warrior from the north. You arrived in this dungeon in the company of Derlek Fontane over a month ago, with the task of subjugating it. I believe you succeeded, and that the current dungeon master is none other than your old friend, Derlek.¡±

    Orin digested the information and was frustrated to find that it didn¡¯t trigger any further memories. ¡°This Derlek fellow, we¡¯ve known each other for a long time?¡±

    ¡°That was my understanding,¡± Darla replied.

    ¡°Whenever I hear his voice or imagine his face, I feel nothing but anger,¡± Orin pointed out.

    The woman shrugged. ¡°Perhaps you were betrayed like the rest of us were.¡±

    Orin frowned, and she elaborated. ¡°I am Princes Darla of Gurthan, the last of my line. My father, the king, charged Derlek, a well regarded mage, with the subjugation of this place so that we might look into its powers and claim them for the good of our kingdom. Weeks ago, when reports of this place growing more benign came out, we received a missive claiming he was successful. After monitoring the situation, I was sent, and mere days after my arrival, the dungeon changed, my retinue was slaughtered and now I am trapped here.¡±

    Gronthil nodded thoughtfully before rapping the table with his knuckles. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been coming to this dungeon for years. It never was a particularly challenging one. More of a place for delvers to hone their skills before trying their hand at more difficult ones like the one in Charney¡­¡±

    ¡°What is your point, Master Dwarf?¡± Rus enquired.

    Gronthil gave Darla a pointed look before asking. ¡°Why order this place subjugated?¡±

    A sardonic smile crept across the woman¡¯s face, and her shoulder¡¯s slumped. ¡°It is as you say, the dungeons in places like Charney, Nida¡¯s Hollow, Thornbury, they are all more challenging with commensurate rewards.¡±

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    Rus snorted derisively. ¡°Your father watched those cities grow fat off the spoils of the dungeon and tried to get this dungeon to do the same.¡±

    ¡°The frustrating thing is after everyone warned him, he went through with it anyway, and it worked!¡± Darla exclaimed. ¡°At least for a little while.¡±

    ¡°Hold on, Princess,¡± Gronthil said, holding up a meaty hand. ¡°Do you mean to tell me that you came here in an attempt to prove your father wrong?¡±

    ¡°All my life I¡¯d been taught by magisters he had appointed to be suspicious when something was too good to be true,¡± Darla retorted bitterly. ¡°And they were proven correct. My father¡¯s ambition and greed have come at the cost of countless lives.¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer the question of why Derlek betrayed everyone,¡± Rus pointed out.

    ¡°It does not,¡± Darla admitted and levelled her gaze back on Orin. ¡°But it seems we have both been betrayed by the same person and seek answers. Will you help me find them?¡±

    ¡°I seek only answers for myself,¡± Orin snapped. ¡°And I have no interest in looking after anyone else¡¯s welfare.¡±

    ¡°I can pull my weight,¡± Darla pointed out. ¡°Those wounds you received from the Gatekeeper would have taken weeks to heal on their own.¡±

    Orin scowled but after a moment¡¯s thought conceded the point. ¡°I suppose you aren¡¯t wrong. But if you knew who I was, why not reveal it to me in the tunnel?¡±

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t be sure you wouldn¡¯t turn on us once we told you,¡± she pointed out. ¡°You and the dungeon master were fast friends after all when last I saw you.¡±

    Orin made a face. ¡°Why follow me into the tunnel in the first place?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d only ever seen you from a distance, and you were wearing a grotesque helmet at the time,¡± she replied. ¡°I could only be sure of who you were when I heard your name and saw you wield your sword.¡±

    He then looked at the other two. ¡°And what about the two of you, what will you do?¡±

    Rus was the first to reply. ¡°I¡¯ll come along. The princess has promised me a handsome reward in exchange for my assistance. Besides, it¡¯s not like I can get out now. Not my own, anyway.¡±

    ¡°I will go as well,¡± Gronthil declared. ¡°If the way out is sealed, then I¡¯d rather be proactive than huddling away in here waiting for a slow death.¡±

    Orin grunted. ¡°The lot of you better not slow me down.¡±

    ¡°He talks big now,¡± Rus grinned before nudging the dwarf in the side. ¡°But without the two of us, he¡¯d probably starve.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the truth,¡± Gronthil laughed and turned to Darla. ¡°We had planned on setting out at first light, but would you like to wait a little longer for your friend?¡±

    The woman blinked and thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t know if we can afford to. I will leave a note behind and if Yeldon finds his way here, he will know where we are headed.¡±

    Orin nodded and got to his feet. ¡°Write your note. I wish to depart at once.¡±

    ¡°What is the rush?¡± Gronthil asked. ¡°As I¡¯ve said, I think we could all benefit from a good night¡¯s sleep before challenging the deeper levels. I came from down there and I can tell you, the creatures we encountered would curdle your blood.¡±

    ¡°All the same, gather your things and meet me outside,¡± Orin said. ¡°I will only wait ten minutes.¡±

    The others were outside in five, and Orin led the way towards the stairs without saying a word. They climbed in silence. The stairs were broad and worn from the numerous boots that had used them over the years. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach as he rounded a corner where the stairs doubled back on themselves. His pace quickened as he climbed that flight and then the next.

    ¡°This is strange,¡± Gronthil said at last, confirming the warrior¡¯s fears. ¡°We should have reached the Swamp by now.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s like when we tried to leave,¡± Rus breathed.

    Without consulting the others, Orin turned around and began to descend. When he rounded the first corner, he saw the tavern at the top of the stairs and cursed.

    ¡°We should stay close together when using these stairs,¡± Gronthil warned as he appeared next to the warrior.

    ¡°We¡¯re trapped,¡± Darla gasped, ashen faced, after they had gathered at the tavern door.

    Orin looked around peevishly and had a flash of inspiration when his gaze happened to fall upon one of the greenskins he¡¯d killed. ¡°They seemed to have no problems travelling between the levels.¡±

    He looked over to Rus. ¡°Remember those lights we saw on the first day we met?¡±

    The hunter nodded. ¡°It might have been a temporary path, but it¡¯s worth investigating.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose I could avail upon you to spend the night here before setting out?¡± Gronthil offered feebly.

    ¡°You may if you wish,¡± Orin said brusquely. ¡°But I am leaving at once.¡±

    The warrior stalked into the trees and Rus cleared his throat loudly. Orin turned around and glared at the man, who pointed in a different direction. ¡°They came down over there.¡±

    ¡°You know, it wouldn¡¯t kill you to admit that we need one another,¡± Rus called out when the warrior changed direction abruptly.

    It was still night when the party arrived at the path¡¯s terminus on their level. They approached from the trees and the sight that greeted them gave even Orin pause. An army had been built at the base of a cliff. It was surrounded by a wood stockade that was patrolled by greenskins together with tame wolves that they led around on chains. A pair of watchtowers flanked the camp''s open gates under which wagons pulled by basilisks passed intermittently in either direction.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember this being here,¡± Gronthil breathed as he took the encampment in.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been coming to this level for years and this is the first time I¡¯ve seen it,¡± Rus added.

    Rus¡¯ eyes widened in alarm when Orin drew his sword and began to walk towards the encampment. Together with Gronthil, he managed to haul the warrior back.

    ¡°Is your first instinct to go in sword swinging?¡± the hunter hissed.

    ¡°It¡¯s worked so far,¡± Orin pointed out.

    ¡°I believe we can come up with a more intelligent way to get up that path,¡± Rus said.

    ¡°Tell me, princess, was he always like this?¡± Gronthil groaned.

    Darla shrugged. ¡°I didn¡¯t actually speak to him. He had a reputation, you see... he was better known as the Raging Demon.¡±

    ¡°I can see why,¡± Rus remarked.

    ¡°I¡¯m still waiting for this intelligent alternative to get us up the path of yours,¡± Orin said hotly.

    ¡°Look at those wagons,¡± Darla said, pointing at one that lumbered through the gates on its way uphill. ¡°They don¡¯t appear to have anyone on them, no driver or guard.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose they need a driver if the creature pulling it is obeying the will of the Dungeon Master,¡± Gronthil remarked.

    ¡°Perhaps we could get on one as it passes through the forest,¡± Rus offered.

    ¡°What¡¯s stopping us from riding one in the opposite direction?¡± Gronthil asked. ¡°Perhaps we could ride one of those things all the way out of the dungeon.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t know if they go that far,¡± Darla pointed out. ¡°In fact, we don¡¯t know where the ones heading in that direction are going at all.¡±

    ¡°You could say the same thing about those going uphill,¡± Gronthil remarked.

    ¡°Those are going deeper into the dungeon,¡± Orin said. ¡°That is all that matters.¡±

    ¡°And if it¡¯s dicey on the other side, we can fall back on our Raging Demon¡¯s original plan,¡± Rus added.

    ¡°Call me that again, and I will wring your neck,¡± Orin warned sharply.

 Chapter 12

    The wagon¡¯s interior was a spartan affair. A pair of wooden benches ran the length on either side with iron rings placed at shoulder height three feet apart. Ventilation was provided by barred slits spaced along the floor. Getting on board had been easy enough. The wagons were unguarded, and the creature pulling it seemed to have little interest aside from the duty it had been tasked with.

    Orin peered out a window at the wagons going in the opposite direction. For every covered wagon like the one they were riding in, there were two open ones that were heavily laden with food.

    ¡°They¡¯re carrying enough to feed an army,¡± Darla observed. The young woman had to stand on a bench to see out of the slit.

    ¡°Perhaps they use these to transport troops,¡± Gronthil remarked as Rus closed the door behind them.

    The hunter looked at the pair and frowned. ¡°It would be best to stay away from the slits. Someone might see.¡±

    ¡°Why would they concentrate their forces in the upper levels?¡± Darla wondered out loud after sitting down. ¡°Are they under attack?¡±

    ¡°If that was the case, why not lure them in and whittle them down?¡± Gronthil pointed out as he settled into a bench. ¡°Isn¡¯t that how dungeons usually operate?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they want to keep them out altogether,¡± Rus mused.

    ¡°It¡¯s my understanding that dungeons draw energy by claiming the lives of delvers,¡± Gronthil said. ¡°That¡¯s why they entice us with rewards and let just enough claim them to keep more coming. No reason to keep people out altogether.¡±

    ¡°That is the prevailing theory,¡± Darla said. ¡°But now I¡¯m not so sure.¡±

    The dwarf frowned. ¡°What makes you say that?¡±

    ¡°This dungeon was never particularly difficult,¡± Darla explained. ¡°Delvers hardly ever died here, which is why it became somewhat of a training dungeon¡­ and yet¡­¡±

    ¡°It had the power to grow stronger in a dramatic fashion,¡± Gronthil said, finishing her thought. ¡°Perhaps our original line of thinking was faulty after all.¡±

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be the first time the magisters were wrong,¡± Rus spat. ¡°For all their learning, they do seem to get things a lot of things wrong.¡±

    ¡°Well, if the dungeon feels threatened, I¡¯d say that¡¯s good news for us,¡± Gronthil remarked. ¡°That means help is on the way and they¡¯re on the upper levels.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they are preparing to march on the surface,¡± Rus offered. ¡°Verdant Meadows is but a half day¡¯s walk from the entrance.¡±

    Darla shook her head. ¡°The creatures of this place are bound here. They cannot leave. This has been proven countless times.¡±

    ¡°This place doesn¡¯t seem to like playing by the rules,¡± Rus pointed out.

    ¡°There are rules and there are immutable laws,¡± Darla said evenly. ¡°Dungeon creatures being unable to leave belongs to the latter.¡±

    The woman paused thoughtfully before shaking her head.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Gronthil ventured.

    ¡°It¡¯s just that the gatekeeper¡­¡± she began. ¡°A demon¡­¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit I¡¯m not the most experienced delver, but I¡¯ve never seen one of those in here before,¡± Rus offered.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see the creature myself, but your descriptions don¡¯t match anything I¡¯ve ever seen in a dungeon either,¡± Gronthil added.

    ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard, creatures like that are encountered very rarely,¡± Darla said. ¡°And when they are found in dungeons, they are always the Master.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it is the former master, and this Derlek fellow bent it to his will when he took over,¡± Gronthil remarked.

    ¡°All interesting theories, but all of you are going to have to shut up now,¡± Orni said after glancing out the window. ¡°We¡¯ve arrived at the encampment.¡±

    The wagon slowed down and the stowaways fell silent. Then, a look of horror crossed Rus¡¯ face, prompting Orin to arch an inquisitive eyebrow.

    ¡°The wolves,¡± the hunter gasped, his voice scarcely a whisper. ¡°What do we do if they sniff us out?¡±

    Orin placed a hand on his sword and replied evenly. ¡°Then we revert to Plan A.¡±

    ¡°You and your one track mind,¡± Rus smirked before moving deeper into the wagon so that Orin¡¯s bulk was between him and the door.

    The warrior shrugged. ¡°It hasn¡¯t gone wrong yet.¡±

    ¡°Just sit still, please,¡± Gronthil warned when Darla turned around and tried to peer out the slit again. ¡°Our scents might not give us away.¡±

    The dwarf pointed at the rings above them when the princess shot him a quizzical look. ¡°These are or were used to transport prisoners.¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t seem shy to kill delvers at the tunnel or the tavern,¡± Rus pointed out.

    ¡°We can discuss this later,¡± Gronthil hissed. ¡°When we are not in the middle of an enemy camp.¡±

    After a few tense minutes, they felt the wagon begin to climb up the hill and Gronthil relaxed visibly before gesturing for the princess to look out of the window.

    ¡°It looks like we¡¯re in the clear,¡± she said, prompting Rus and Gronthil to breathe sighs of relief. ¡°For now at least.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t suppose anyone knows where this path takes us?¡± Orin ventured.

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    Rus shook his head. ¡°Forest Lake is as deep as I¡¯ve ever gone.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the same for me,¡± Darla admitted.

    Gronthil stroked his beard nervously when the others turned to him. ¡°Now I could be mistaken, but it appears as though we are headed for the Plains.¡±

    ¡°Where does that put us in relation to the castle?¡± Orin ventured.

    ¡°It¡¯s a more meandering route than the one going up the stairs,¡± Gronthil replied.

    Orin cursed softly.

    ¡°Well, it can¡¯t be helped,¡± Rus said. ¡°What¡¯s curious is why the master has closed the more direct route to his castle and opened this one up in its place.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps the fight on the upper levels is going poorly for them,¡± Darla said hopefully.

    ¡°That¡¯s a dangerous line of thinking, Princess,¡± Gronthil warned. ¡°Even if it were the case, we shouldn¡¯t just hunker down and wait for rescue.¡±

    ¡°I agree,¡± Rus added.

    Soon, the wagon levelled out. Darla took another look out the slit and gasped. ¡°Master Dwarf, I think you should see this.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s this about?¡± Gronthil asked, having to stand on tiptoes to see outside. When he did, his eyes widened. ¡°It wasn¡¯t like this when last I was here.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I seem to be hearing that a lot,¡± Orin remarked dryly.

    ¡°These were once rolling plains,¡± the dwarf breathed. ¡°Most of it has been converted to farmland. The question is why?¡±

    A chill ran down Orin¡¯s spine when he thought of the answer. ¡°To feed an army. A huge army.¡±

    ¡°Can a Dungeon Master conjure one out of thin air like that?¡± Gronthil breathed.

    The warrior shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m not the dungeon expert.¡±

    ¡°We are approaching some sort of fortified village,¡± Darla warned after climbing down from the slit.

    ¡°Enemies?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°Greenskins,¡± Darla replied.

    ¡°How many?¡± he and Rus followed up in unison.

    The cleric shook her head. ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell. There were plenty of buildings. There could be an army out there for all we know.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like the look of this place,¡± Gronthil said as he climbed down from the slit. ¡°I say we try to cruise on past and get out somewhere more secluded.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll ride this thing all the way to the castle if that¡¯s where it¡¯s heading,¡± Orin said.

    ¡°It would be nice if it were that simple,¡± Rus remarked.

    Orin¡¯s pulse quickened as the wagon slowed down. A fight was coming. He could sense it. He heard voices outside.

    ¡°Hey, this one looks loaded,¡± one growled.

    ¡°I thought we told them Black Dogs we were full up,¡± another groused. ¡°we don¡¯t have the room to be taking any more prisoners.¡±

    ¡°Just get ¡®em out and feed ¡®em to the basilisks,¡± a third ordered. ¡°Do it quickly, we need to get this food out of here or it¡¯ll be the lash for all of us.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s a fight after all,¡± Gronthil breathed as they felt the wagon turn before slowing to a stop.

    ¡°Be careful,¡± Darla warned. ¡°Dungeon creatures that can speak the languages of men are normally in the service of a Dungeon Lord. A powerful enemy may be near.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Orin said as he got to his feet and made his way towards the door at the rear. It was too cramped to draw his sword in the wagon, so he just kept his hand on its hilt.

    ¡°Wait, shouldn¡¯t we coordinate a plan?¡± Gronthil protested as he made way for the warrior.

    ¡°Yes, don¡¯t get in my way,¡± Orin replied.

    Soon, the wagon rattled to a stop. The basilisk at the front of the wagon roared irritably, and Orin focused his breathing when he heard footsteps approach the door. When the footsteps stopped, Orin kicked the door open and leapt outside.

    He found himself in a dirt square in the heart of a village, surrounded by half a dozen stunned greenskins. Steel flashed, and they died before they could react. Silence reigned over the square as Orin¡¯s companions piled out of the wagon and took in their surroundings. Dozens of shocked eyes stared back at them. These belonged to humans, dwarves and other races Orin didn¡¯t recognize, but one thing was clear. They weren¡¯t denizens of the dungeon. They were¡­

    ¡°Delvers,¡± Gronthil breathed. ¡°Why are they working the fields¡­¡±

    ¡°Slave labour?¡± Rus offered.

    The dwarf¡¯s reply was drowned out by a wail of despair. A scrawny man came running over and stared wide-eyed at Orin. ¡°What have you done?¡±

    ¡°Slain my enemies,¡± the warrior replied bluntly. ¡°Who do you serve?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s have none of that,¡± Gronthil said sharply as he placed himself between the warrior and the dishevelled old man.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you see Flen!¡± a younger man gasped. His eyes twinkled as he gazed upon Orin in wonder. ¡°The rumours were true! The King Horvald¡¯s army has come to rescue us!¡±

    ¡°But they number so few,¡± the old man protested.

    ¡°A vanguard!¡± the younger man said. ¡°And a powerful one at that.¡±

    A horn blew a low, mournful note, causing the old man to cower in place. ¡°The Second Master, he comes!¡±

    ¡°Come along,¡± the younger man said, taking Flen gently by the arm and guiding the old man towards a large shed the other delvers were filing quickly into.

    Darla¡¯s face contorted in confusion. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°The Second Master is coming,¡± the young man called over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯m sure you doughty warriors will make quick work of him, but we need to return to our quarters until you do.¡±

    ¡°That was bizarre,¡± Gronthil remarked.

    ¡°Arrows,¡± Orin warned.

    Dozens of black darts rose into the sky, and Orin raised his sword to cover his head and trusted his armour to protect the rest. To his surprise, instead of taking cover in the wagon, his companions huddled around him.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± he demanded.

    Gronthil winked at the warrior. ¡°Just watch.¡±

    As the arrows began to arc down towards them, the dwarf stone shaper began to chant. Just before they fell, he drove his foot into the ground, causing a finger of rock to shoot up. After the arrows had clattered harmlessly off the rock shield, Rus stepped out from behind it and fired his bow. Moments later, a pair greenskins that had been charging through a nearby wheatfield fell over before bursting into flames.

    Eight more greenskins leapt over their burning bodies and continued the charge. Rus continued to fire, and Gronthil stepped forward. He stomped his foot causing a pair of rocks the size of a man¡¯s fist to fly up from the ground, which he sent flying using his hammers. The rocks drilled holes in the heads of another two greenskins. Meanwhile, Orin repositioned himself to face another dozen that appeared from the buildings to their rear.

    They threw themselves at the warrior without hesitation. Steel flashed, and four fell from a single swing. The others didn¡¯t flinch and pressed their attack, but Orin recovered quickly and felled another three with a second mighty swing. One greenskin got close enough to strike at him with its sword, but the warrior dodged it handily and crushed its skull with a gauntleted fist.

    The remaining three were about to attack when a loud roar froze them in place. The others looked up to see that they were surrounded by at least thirty greenskins who were waiting patiently a good twenty yards away.

    Orin circled round as a man lumbered out of one of the buildings. He stood almost a head taller than Orin and was covered in thick armour that resembled emerald scales. His skin was jet black, and his eyes were as red as sapphires and glimmered in his bald head that had a sleek shape to it, making it reminiscent of a shark¡¯s. He carried a large shield that was covered in similar scales to his armour in one hand and rested an enormous war hammer on a shoulder.

    ¡°Lord Garthan,¡± he boomed. ¡°You have some nerve, turning on the Master after he granted you his First Seat.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Orin replied bluntly. ¡°But if you tell me how to get to your master, I will let you live.¡±

    The man strode towards Orin and broke into a broad smile, revealing a mouth full of jagged white teeth. ¡°I think it¡¯s time someone put you in your place.¡±

    ¡°I suppose you fancy yourself as just such a person?¡± Orin ventured.

    Orin raised his sword and swung with all his might, prioritising power. He would prove his superiority in the first exchange and show who was being put in their place. His opponent raised his shield, and Orin gritted his teeth, determined to break through it and the man in one fell swoop. The warrior¡¯s eyes widened in surprise when his weapon wouldn¡¯t budge after striking the shield. The man before him had stopped his attack cold.

    Moments later, the man¡¯s gauntleted fist struck Orin¡¯s side, crumpling his cuirass and sending the warrior flying. Orin landed in a heap a good distance away. A sharp pain in his side told Orin his ribs were broken as he scrambled to his feet and found his foe looking down at him with his war hammer still resting on his shoulder.

    ¡°I am Berlan,¡± he declared. ¡°And I hold this dungeon¡¯s twelfth seat.¡±

 Chapter 13

    An arrow burst into flames moments after striking Berlan in the chest. The hulking man plucked it out and snapped it in his fist before letting its pieces fall to the ground. He then raised his shield to intercept a pair of rocks that Gronthil had sent hurtling his way.

    Darla made use of the distraction to run over and place a hand on the damaged part of Orin¡¯s armour. After a moment she frowned. ¡°The armour has bent into your flesh. I cannot heal you until you remove it.¡±

    ¡°Then healing will have to wait,¡± Orin said through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Attack!¡± Berlan snarled as he hefted his huge war hammer in one hand. ¡°But Lord Garthan is mine!¡±

    The greenskins shrieked and surged forward when their lord did the same. Orin pushed Darla aside and swung his sword, knocking his foe¡¯s war hammer off course. The move left him open, and Berlan swung his shield. Orin arched his body backwards so that he took the blow in the chest instead of the face and launched himself back to dissipate some of the power.

    He rolled backwards onto his feet and sidestepped a strike from the war hammer that left a deep indent in the earthen ground. He could see that a melee had broken out between his companions and the greenskins, but he had his hands full with the man before him and could do nothing to help.

    Berlan held out his shield as he approached, which Orin took as a challenge. Seeing red, he swung at it. At the last moment, his foe changed the angle of his shield, causing Orin¡¯s strike to glance off, throwing the warrior off balance momentarily. The dungeon lord swung savagely with his hammer. It was a fast, compact blow, and Orin managed to recover in time to twist his body out of the way. The hammer scored a glancing blow on his cuirass, leaving behind a deep gouge in the thick steel.

    Before Orin could launch a counter, Berlan kicked the warrior¡¯s feet out from under him. Orin collapsed in a heap but forced his foe back with a savage swing of his sword as he lay on the ground.

    ¡°You¡¯ve spent more of this fight on your arse than on your feet,¡± Berlan goaded.

    The blood rushed to Orin¡¯s head again, and he launched himself at the dark skinned man, raining blow after blow on his shield. Each swing was murder on his sides, but his rage enabled him to keep going. However, unlike before, he was unable to enter a battle trance where he could just channel his rage into swinging his weapon. His blows seemed to glance off the shield, depriving him of any satisfying connection which only served to deepen his frustrations.

    Orin learned that his rage fuelled strength had its limits when a tired swing struck his foe¡¯s shield at an awkward angle, jarring his wrists. The warrior slowed by just a hair, but Berlan was quick to capitalize and shoved Orin back with his shield. As he was driven back, the warrior put his shoulder into the shield, determined not to lose this battle of strength.

    Suddenly, Berlan stopped pushing, causing Orin to lurch forward. As Orin stumbled, Berlan brought his hammer down. The warrior was able to twist his body as he fell and place his sword in between the hammer and his chest. The impact was still enough to jar his bones. His already broken ribs screamed in agony as the warrior crashed to the ground.

    ¡°You always were so easy to lead by the nose,¡± a familiar voice echoed in Orin¡¯s head. It sounded disappointed and weary. Orin quickly realized it was Derlek¡¯s. Was the Dungeon Master speaking with him, or was he recalling an old memory?

    Orin gasped when Berlan brought his hammer down on his sword again and realized the voice was right. Giving into rage had gotten him this far, but he would need his wits if he was to best this foe. As Berlan raised his hammer for a third blow, Orin kicked his massive sword to give him the momentum to be able to swing it upwards.

    Berlan leapt back to avoid the blow that would have severed his hands at the wrist, and Orin scrambled to his feet. Berlan smirked and dangled his shield out again. Orin resisted the urge to lunge and took a deep breath to observe his opponent for any openings.

    Berlan¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°What¡¯s this, the mighty Lord Garthan shirking a challenge? How the mighty have fallen.¡±

    Despite knowing it was a trap, Orin swung his sword impulsively at the offered shield and cursed his stupidity a moment later. Desperately, he watched the shield and sure enough, his foe adjusted it ever so slightly. The muscles in his arm screamed as he forced the course of his sword to change so that it met the surface of the shield square. The hit was powerful, shaking the bones in Orin¡¯s arms, and driving his opponent back half a step.

    Knowing the hammer blow was coming, Orin recovered quickly and blocked it with the flat of his sword. He placed his left hand behind the impact point to help protect the blade, and to give him more leverage in absorbing the blow.

    Before his foe could recover from the surprise, Orin launched a savage strike that struck Berlan in the shoulder, causing a deep gouge in his pauldron. The dark skinned man stepped back, but Orin wasn¡¯t about to let his hard won momentum slip. He stepped forward and drove a thrust towards his foe¡¯s midsection.

    Berlan used his shield to knock Orin¡¯s blow off course, but the warrior planted his foot and used it as a pivot to launch a full swing of his sword at his opponent¡¯s now exposed back. His sword struck true, and the force behind the blow sent Berlan stumbling forward. The dark skinned man lashed out with his hammer, forcing Orin back, and preventing him from pressing his advantage.

    As the two combatants squared off again, Orin saw fresh blood glistening off his sword. A back wound meant that his foe was unlikely to be able to put his full strength behind his hammer.

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    ¡°You¡¯re the first man to pierce this emerald armour of mine,¡± Berlan said in amazement.

    The dark skinned man lowered his shield. Either feigning weakness or challenging Orin to strike at the thickest part of his armour across his chest. Orin saw through the ruse and landed a powerful blow from his left, obliging his opponent to parry it with his hammer.

    ¡°Where is your warrior¡¯s pride?¡± Berlan gasped as he staggered under the weight of the blow. ¡°Striking at your opponent¡¯s weakness instead of his strength!¡±

    Sensing his opponent¡¯s strength was flagging, Orin reached out and snatched the hammer out of Berlan¡¯s hands. The dungeon lord¡¯s eyes widened in surprise as Orin landed a powerful one handed thrust of his sword on his midsection that pierced his armour and then his flesh. Orin looked his foe in the eyes and watched the life fade from them.

    ¡°Master, thy work is done,¡± he gurgled before going limp.

    Orin pushed the body off his sword with a contemptuous kick and looked down on its lifeless form. Then, he became aware of the sounds of battle raging behind him. He turned around to see that the greenskins had his companions trapped in the wagon and hefted his sword. The battle with Berlan had left him feeling conflicted and he welcomed the opportunity to clear his head.

    Orin threw himself into the ranks of greenskins without warning. Taken from the rear, they fell quickly in the face of his fury. Too quickly, and unwelcome thoughts returned to swirl in the warrior¡¯s head. Chief among them being the voice he¡¯d heard. Had it been an unearthed memory or some form of sorcery?

    ¡°Took you long enough to deal with that bugger,¡± Rus remarked as he hopped out of the wagon.

    ¡°Is anyone injured?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°A few minor scrapes and wounds,¡± Darla replied as she tended to a nasty gash across Gronthil¡¯s arm. ¡°Nothing to worry about.¡±

    ¡°Since when did you concern yourself with the welfare of others?¡± Rus asked.

    Orin grunted irritably and turned around to see the delvers slowly filtering out of their hovels.

    ¡°Here, let me help you out of that so that she can tend to your wounds,¡± Gronthil offered once Darla finished her spell.

    ¡°No, let¡¯s see whose side they¡¯re on first,¡± Orin said.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­¡± Darla began.

    The woman fell silent when the young man from earlier approached beaming broadly. ¡°That was well fought. When can we expect the rest of good King Horvald¡¯s army to arrive?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Orin said bluntly. ¡°We¡¯ve not seen any sign of them.¡±

    The young man swallowed uncomfortably. ¡°But you came from the Forest Lake¡­ They told us the king¡¯s army was pushing them out of that level.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps you¡¯ve been lied to,¡± Orin shrugged.

    The man¡¯s lip quivered. ¡°But what¡­ why would they¡­¡±

    ¡°The king¡¯s army isn¡¯t coming?¡± another decrepit delver wailed. ¡°But the second master is dead¡­ what if they think we were involved?¡±

    ¡°Back to the fields everyone!¡± another delver cried. ¡°We¡¯ll get back to work and tell them we had nothing to do with any of this.¡±

    The young man¡¯s eyes turned cold. ¡°I think it¡¯s time you left.¡±

    Orin shook his head in disbelief as the delvers returned to their fields. There were almost a hundred of them, working diligently in the fields, stopping only to look around fearfully every now and again.

    At length, the warrior shook his head. ¡°They¡¯ve lost their minds.¡±

    ¡°Aye, it¡¯s curious behaviour,¡± Gronthil agreed. ¡°Now, why don¡¯t we get that cuirass off so the Princess can take a look at your wounds?¡±

    Reluctantly, Orin allowed Gronthil to help him out of his armour while Rus climbed nimbly to the top of a tall tree in the heart of the square.

    ¡°There have to be a dozen towns just like this in the area,¡± Rus remarked from the top of the tree. ¡°I see plenty of people working the fields, they¡¯re probably delvers just like these.¡±

    ¡°Could they be under some sort of spell?¡± Gronthil ventured.

    Darla shook her head while muttering an incantation. She pressed it to Orin¡¯s wound, and the warrior gasped from the pain. As her chanting grew louder, so did the pain in Orin¡¯s side. He was about to push her away when Gronthil placed a hand on his shoulder.

    ¡°That¡¯s just how it is, laddie,¡± he said. ¡°You have to endure it.¡±

    After a few excruciating seconds, the chanting stopped, and the pain subsided into a dull throb. Darla looked pale and swayed when she attempted to stand.

    ¡°You need to rest,¡± Gronthil said after grabbing her by the shoulder to stop her from falling over. ¡°And we need something to eat. I wonder if they will give us anything¡­¡±

    ¡°Not willingly, I¡¯d wager,¡± Rus remarked as he climbed down from the tree.

    While Orin examined the jagged hole in his armour, a young man approached them, pushing a wheelbarrow laden with cabbages. When he drew close, the wheelbarrow wobbled, and four large heads of cabbage came tumbling out.

    ¡°Watch it,¡± Orin growled when one rolled into his foot.

    Rus rolled his eyes. ¡°He¡¯s giving them to us.¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t he just hand them to us, then?¡± Orin demanded.

    ¡°Plausible deniability,¡± the lad winked.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with your people?¡± Gronthil asked.

    The lad paused and shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re prisoners here, it was terrible at first. We were locked in cages and treated worse than animals. No food, no water, locked out in the elements. Then, we were allowed to live indoors and fed three meals a day in exchange for¡­¡±

    ¡°Obedience,¡± Orin spat.

    The young man broke into a broad grin. ¡°Labour is the term we like to use, but yours isn¡¯t wrong.¡±

    ¡°I saw a few other farms out there, is it the same over there?¡± Rus asked.

    The lad nodded. ¡°As far as we can tell, though the masters don¡¯t encourage mingling between communes.¡±

    ¡°And this talk of the king¡¯s army being close,¡± Darla said weakly. ¡°Where did you hear that?¡±

    The lad blinked. ¡°From the masters and their servants. They seemed very distressed about it. Are you sure you haven¡¯t seen them down in the Forest Lake?¡¯

    Gronthil shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m afraid not.¡±

    ¡°Oi, Flir, stop talking to them!¡± someone cried. ¡°The overlords might see!¡±

    ¡°Gotta go,¡± the lad grinned. ¡°I get the feeling Old Hanley might have been right all along¡­¡±

    ¡°Where can we find this Old Hanley?¡± Gronthil asked.

    ¡°In the quarry,¡± Flir replied as he pushed his wheelbarrow away. ¡°Watch out for the Guardian!¡±

    ¡°I think I saw the quarry from up in the tree,¡± Rus said. ¡°It¡¯s not far from here.¡±

    Gronthil winced when Orin began to hammer the jagged edges of his cuirass flat with the pommel of his sword. ¡°We also need to find a blacksmith to mend your cuirass and look at your sword.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a smithy over there,¡± Rus said, pointing at a small shed built around a rudimentary forge nearby. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that work?¡±

    Gronthil frowned as he looked at the delvers, who were now watching them with hostile eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ll find a blacksmith willing to help.¡±

    The hunter¡¯s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°Couldn¡¯t you do it?¡±

    ¡°I know you tall men think all dwarves are blacksmiths, but it¡¯s simply not true,¡± Gronthil said good naturedly.

    ¡°Then there is no sense in staying where we are not welcome,¡± Orin declared. ¡°Let¡¯s go pay this ¡®Old Hanley¡¯ a visit.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Darla said feebly before struggling to her feet.

    ¡°You should rest a little more,¡± Gronthil said worriedly as he rushed over to help her stand.

    ¡°We can¡¯t just leave this people here,¡± Darla protested.

    ¡°They seem content to stay,¡± Orin remarked.

    ¡°Besides, what would we do if they agreed to come with us?¡± Rus ventured. ¡°Most of them look like novices and merchants who were captured on the upper levels. Do you plan to lead them all the way to the castle?¡±

    ¡°This is the safest place for them, Princess,¡± Gronthil agreed.

 Chapter 14

    The quarry was a three hour walk from the village, and the light was beginning to dim by the time Orin and his group arrived. This level appeared to be in a larger cavern than the previous one, leaving them to wonder just how many farms there were, and how many delvers were working them. Gronthil had warned them earlier that the quarry was likely to be teeming with stone golems. However, when they arrived, there were none to be found.

    ¡°This is strange,¡± he muttered as he looked down into the empty quarry.

    Terraced roads led down into a deep open pit of grey stone. Wagon cars filled with rocks lay idle on rails, and Orin frowned. ¡°I wonder, what sort of prisoner warrants this sort of isolation?¡±

    ¡°I think it¡¯s worth finding out,¡± Darla remarked.

    ¡°Should we wait until light before heading down?¡± Rus asked after stifling a yawn.

    Gronthil shook his head. ¡°We should keep moving. There are likely to be more enemies on this level and they will be looking for us once any one of them go to that village.¡±

    ¡°And the delvers there will have no problem telling them precisely where we¡¯ve gone,¡± Orin added before setting off down into the quarry.

    ¡°What could have happened to them?¡± Darla wondered, not for the first time since they¡¯d left the village. ¡°They seemed to be prisoners yearning for rescue but refused to escape when their guards were dead.¡±

    ¡°Think of that as a blessing, Princess,¡± Gronthil said. ¡°We could not have taken them with us.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just so bizarre,¡± she breathed.

    ¡°The person we are going to see should be able to shed some light on the matter,¡± Rus remarked.

    ¡°I care little about that,¡± Orin spat.

    Rus stifled another yawn. ¡°We should look for a place to rest when we are done here.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a good idea,¡± Gronthil agreed, grabbing Darla by the arm to steady her when she stumbled. ¡°The Princess looks exhausted.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she protested.

    ¡°How far are we from the next level, Master Dwarf?¡± Rus ventured after a lengthy silence.

    Gronthil shrugged before replying. ¡°I¡¯d say a two day march, but the portals between levels appear to have been moved¡­¡±

    ¡°How far did you get into this dungeon, anyway?¡± Rus asked.

    ¡°I came within sight of the castle,¡± Gronthil said. ¡°My group and I were on our way back out when everything turned sour.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t make an attempt on the castle?¡± Darla asked.

    The dwarf smiled and shook his head. ¡°We knew that even after the dungeon became more benign, no one who had entered the castle ever made it back out. We weren¡¯t keen to press our luck.¡±

    He paused and sighed before continuing. ¡°If only I hadn¡¯t insisted we take our time and explore on our way out¡­ we might have made it out before everything went south. I lost three good friends up on Forest Lake.¡±

    ¡°That looks like it could be what we¡¯re looking for,¡± Rus breathed.

    The others followed his gaze to a dome of rock lying at the bottom of the quarry. There were no openings visible on it, but a winged stone gargoyle stood perched on top of it.

    ¡°I¡¯d be careful with your sword,¡± Gronthil warned when Orin quickened his pace. ¡°I still think you should have taken that man¡¯s hammer. We have a long way to the castle.¡±

    ¡°I am not proficient with blunt weapons,¡± Orin grunted. The truth was since he¡¯d regained this sword¡­ His sword, he had little interest in wielding anything else.

    As they approached the dome, the gargoyle¡¯s eyes began to glow, and its head turned to monitor the group¡¯s progress.

    ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± Rus breathed.

    ¡°Smash it,¡± Orin replied.

    ¡°Do not use your sword on this foe,¡± Gronthil warned as he rubbed his meaty palms togethers. ¡°Let me strike the finishing blow.¡±

    ¡°If you say so,¡± Rus said dubiously before drawing an ice arrow.

    The creature shrieked and rocketed into the air before landing with a crash in front of the group. It stood slightly taller than Gronthil did and cocked its grotesque face to the side before eyeing the warrior curiously.

    ¡°Think it recognizes you?¡± Darla murmured.

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell it to sit?¡± Rus suggested.

    ¡°Stand down,¡± the warrior ordered.

    The creature shrieked before taking to the skies. Rus cursed and fired an arrow, which clattered off its hard skin. Orin craned his neck and watched the creature climb high into the sky before folding its wings to come plummeting back to the ground.

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    Not seeing any other options, Orin readied his sword as the creature swooped down on them. Behind him, Darla began to chant. A barrier of golden yellow energy shimmered into existence around them. The creature slammed into the barrier, which shattered and caused Darla to collapse in a heap.

    The creature flapped its wings, but Orin was quick to pounce and caught it in a bear hug. It slashed at him with its claws that scraped the paint off his armour, but the warrior managed to wrestle it to the ground. Gronthil began to chant and leapt on the pair as they grappled. The dwarf placed his hands on the creature¡¯s head and after a moment, it crumbled into dust, and the gargoyle went still.

    ¡°Well, that was easier than expected,¡± Rus remarked before checking on Darla.

    ¡°That¡¯s easy for you to say,¡± Orin grumbled as he pushed the now inert stone statue aside so that he could stand.

    ¡°How is she?¡± Gronthil asked.

    ¡°Fine,¡± Darla croaked. ¡°I just need to rest.¡±

    ¡°We all do,¡± Gronthil remarked. The dwarf dusted himself off and turned his attention over to the stone dome before them.

    ¡°Will you keep it down?¡± a woman¡¯s voice groused from inside the dome. ¡°I¡¯m trying to sleep!¡±

    Rus and Gronthil exchanged looks before circling the dome and coming to a stop by a steel door with barred windows.

    ¡°Old Hanley?¡± Rus asked.

    ¡°Who are you calling old?¡± she demanded. ¡°I¡¯m only twenty five.¡±

    Rus blinked in surprise. ¡°That¡¯s what the villagers called you.¡±

    ¡°Well, they would think I¡¯m old,¡± she sniffed. ¡°Most of them look like they¡¯d just let go of their mother¡¯s skirts, but they call me that because I¡¯ve been imprisoned here the longest.¡±

    ¡°They said you could tell us more about this place,¡± Gronthil said.

    ¡°Let me out and I will tell you all that I know,¡± she promised.

    ¡°You want to leave?¡± Rus asked incredulously.

    There was a moment of silence before the woman inside the dome scoffed. ¡°Don¡¯t lump me in with those cowards. I¡¯m not content to be a slave just because I¡¯m allowed to sleep in a bed and am fed three meals a day.¡±

    Gronthil shrugged before sliding the deadbolt aside. The metal door creaked as it swung open, and a bedraggled red haired woman walked out. She wore a stone collar around her neck and sighed when she saw the remains of the gargoyle.

    ¡°You¡¯re going to have a hard time with the master of this level if that piddly thing gave you trouble,¡± she remarked.

    ¡°If you mean Berlan, then I¡¯ve already dealt with him,¡± Orin declared.

    The woman¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°No, he is but a lieutenant of this level¡¯s master, but defeating him is an impressive feat. My name is Lana, Lana Hanley.¡±

    ¡°How long have you been imprisoned here?¡± Gronthil ventured.

    The woman shrugged. ¡°I believe it was just after the new Dungeon Master took over¡­ My group was in the castle, and we were defeated just after it happened.¡±

    Gronthil¡¯s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ¡°Your group must have been powerful indeed. Where are the others?¡±

    ¡°Dead, as far as I can tell,¡± she replied.

    Orin grunted. ¡°That begs the question¡­¡±

    ¡°Why am I alive?¡± Lana smiled coyly. ¡°I suppose that ties into your other question.¡±

    ¡°Which is?¡± Rus ventured.

    ¡°Why are they treating the others so well, all things considered?¡± she replied. ¡°Or did I overestimate your intelligence?¡±

    ¡°Well, whatever they¡¯re doing it¡¯s working,¡± Darla said as she staggered over. ¡°They are meek and obedient.¡±

    ¡°Why the lies, though?¡± Gronthil asked. ¡°That the king¡¯s army is close.¡±

    ¡°So, you know they¡¯re lies,¡± Lana observed. ¡°I take it you are survivors from the upper levels?¡±

    The others nodded, and she smirked. ¡°Prisoners weren¡¯t always treated so well. When we were first captured, they kept us in cages exposed to the elements. We were only fed or given water when we were about to die.¡±

    ¡°Then what happened?¡± Gronthil asked.

    ¡°You saw it for yourself, didn¡¯t you?¡± Lana replied.

    ¡°Why the sudden change?¡±

    ¡°Without hope, there is no desire,¡± Lana said. ¡°This is what I often heard them say, and true enough, after a while, we stopped yearning for food, for water, for warmth, even for life¡­ We just¡­ existed.¡±

    Orin grunted. ¡°Desire? What use could they have for that?¡±

    ¡°A dungeon feeds off desire,¡± Darla said. ¡°That is a fringe theory since desire is so¡­ intangible¡­¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s probably why they¡¯re feeding those prisoners up there lies about being pressed by the king¡¯s army,¡± Rus opined. ¡°Dangle the carrot of hope for rescue in front of their eyes.¡±

    Lana tugged at the collar around her neck and looked at Gronthil pointedly. ¡°Say, one of you wouldn¡¯t happen to be a blacksmith, would you?¡±

    The dwarf shook his head. ¡°It so happens we¡¯re looking for one ourselves.¡±

    ¡°I might know of one,¡± Lana said.

    ¡°There¡¯s no guarantee he¡¯s still there, of course,¡± she continued when the others looked at her in surprise. ¡°But he set up shop in the Swamp.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a curious fellow,¡± Gronthil remarked.

    ¡°Would you happen to know the way to the Swamp?¡± Rus asked.

    Now it was Lana¡¯s turn to be surprised. ¡°You¡¯re all first timers in here?¡±

    ¡°Some of us are,¡± Darla answered after an awkward silence.

    ¡°If you¡¯re thinking for us to follow the river downstream, I¡¯m afraid I have bad news for you,¡± Gronthil added.

    Lana narrowed her eyes warily. ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°The passages in and out of Forest Lake have been changed,¡± the dwarf explained. ¡°There¡¯s a chance that it¡¯s the same for this level as well.¡±

    ¡°Well, we won¡¯t know until we try it, eh?¡± Orin remarked. ¡°We shall try for the old passageway and see if we find an alternative on the way.¡±

    ¡°Are you up for a stroll then?¡± Gronthil asked.

    The woman nodded. ¡°It will be good to stretch the old legs.¡±

    She then cast a look at Darla, who had to lean against the rock dome for support. ¡°I think you should be more concerned about her.¡±

    ¡°What do you do, by the way?¡± Rus ventured.

    ¡°I¡¯m a sorceress,¡± she replied and paused to point at the collar around her neck. ¡°Unfortunately, I won¡¯t be of much use until I get this thing off.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps we could leave after a short¡­¡±

    Gronthil fell silent when he heard the distant beating of drums. Orin felt the hairs on his neck stand on end and turned to Lana. ¡°What is that?¡±

    ¡°The master of this level,¡± she replied, ashen faced. ¡°The true master. He is on the move.¡±

    ¡°Now, I don¡¯t want to alarm anyone, but I think the drums are getting closer,¡± Rus said as he looked warily at the top of the quarry.

    ¡°What seat does this master hold?¡± Orin asked.

    ¡°Sixth,¡± Lana said.

    ¡°We are in no condition to fight,¡± Gronthil added. ¡°We should flee.¡±

    ¡°Is there another way out of this quarry?¡± Darla asked.

    Lana nodded. ¡°There¡¯s a mineshaft nearby, but I don¡¯t know where it leads.¡±

    ¡°It could be a dead end,¡± Gronthil warned.

    ¡°We could hide in there until this master leaves,¡± Darla pointed out.

    ¡°Now hold on,¡± Orin said, hefting his sword. ¡°We will encounter tougher challenges if we are going to the castle.¡±

    ¡°You intend to take on the Dungeon Master?¡± Lana asked.

    Orin nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Then count me in,¡± she said. ¡°It so happens that I have a score to settle with him.¡±

    The corners of Orin¡¯s mouth curled up into a smile. ¡°You know, I¡¯m beginning to warm up to you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s charming, but we should not fight this person now,¡± Gronthil urged. ¡°We need to rest and repair our equipment first.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Lana said before touching her neck. ¡°We should run for now.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes discretion is the better part of valour,¡± a voice in Orin¡¯s head said.

    The warrior scowled. It was Derlek¡¯s voice again. His first impulse was to defy it. As he hefted his sword, it caught the dying light, and the deep cracks in the blade shone clear. The sword was dear to him, and he wasn¡¯t sure if a replacement existed, at least in this dungeon.

    ¡°Fine,¡± he conceded at length. ¡°We go into the mine.¡±

 Chapter 15

    Lamps shone brightly illuminating the tunnel as it wound deeper into the earth. The group moved quickly, and Orin couldn¡¯t shrug off the sinking feeling that they had made a mistake. As far as they could tell, the lamps were made from magical crystals that had flared into life as soon as they entered the tunnel. Were they activated by motion, or some other mechanism?

    ¡°They¡¯re going to know we¡¯ve been here,¡± Gronthil said worriedly. The dwarf was helping support Darla, who was having difficulty keeping up with the others.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be easier if the swordsman just carried her?¡± Lana ventured.

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± both Darla and Orin said in unison.

    Lana blinked. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t want to pry, but if there¡¯s something going on between the two of you¡­¡±

    ¡°There isn¡¯t,¡± Darla said firmly. ¡°This is fine.¡±

    Soon, they approached a fork in the tunnel, and everyone turned expectantly to Gronthil, who sighed wearily. ¡°So, because I¡¯m a dwarf, you think I¡¯m able to navigate tunnels I have seen for the first time?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t you?¡± Rus asked blankly.

    The dwarf shook his head. ¡°No more than you would be able to navigate a city you¡¯ve never been to before. Besides, I was raised in Stenhem.¡±

    ¡°A beautiful city,¡± Darla remarked.

    ¡°Aye, I do miss it,¡± Gronthil said. ¡°The stonework there is just¡­¡±

    ¡°We can discuss the great cities of Brytengrund later,¡± Lana snapped. ¡°For now¡­¡±

    She fell silent when the lights around them intensified. The others looked around in alarm. Meanwhile, the sounds of drums outside grew louder.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Rus hissed. ¡°Did one of you do something?¡±

    ¡°No we didn¡¯t,¡± Gronthil protested.

    Lana¡¯s eyes widened when she came to a realization, and she grabbed the dwarf by the shoulder. ¡°It was you, you just yearned for home, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    The dwarf looked confused. ¡°Aye, I might have... so?¡±

    ¡°These lights, they are powered by our desires,¡± the sorceress deduced. ¡°Everyone, stop desiring things!¡±

    ¡°Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?¡± Rus demanded.

    ¡°How do we just stop wanting things?¡± Darla added.

    ¡°Everyone shut up,¡± Orin hissed. ¡°Just clear your minds of all thought.¡±

    The others fell silent and focused. Soon, the lights around them began to dim. Rus broke into a grin. ¡°Looks like that worked.¡±

    Moments later, the lights flared again, and Orin cursed. ¡°Focus!¡±

    ¡°We need to go deeper,¡± Rus said as the lights began to dim again.

    ¡°But which way do we take?¡± Lana asked.

    Orin looked between the two options and walked down the right hand path that led upwards. ¡°This one.¡±

    ¡°Wait, why that path?¡± Rus protested.

    ¡°If you have a compelling reason to choose the other one, let¡¯s hear it,¡± Lana said before taking off after the warrior.

    Rus and Gronthil exchanged looks, and the dwarf shrugged. ¡°They¡¯re right. Better to keep moving than to be frozen with indecision.¡±

    ¡°This is crazy, we can¡¯t just stumble blindly through a warren like this!¡± Rus shook his head but followed them all the same. He looked over his shoulder and called out. ¡°The lights towards the entrance are fading.¡±

    The lights flared as the others took hope but faded quickly when Orin clicked his tongue irritably. After they had walked for a few more minutes, the sounds of drums had faded completely, and the lights around them grew brighter.

    ¡°I never knew keeping my mind blank could be so exhausting,¡± Darla remarked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go see how far back the lights are on,¡± Rus offered. ¡°I think I can keep my mind blank for a little while longer.¡±

    ¡°I think this is a good time to take a short break,¡± Gronthil said when the hunter crept off.

    Orin nodded reluctantly, and the dwarf helped Darla sit before looking around the tunnel. He examined a streak of colour in the wall and grunted. ¡°Iron, and a rich vein from the look of it.¡±

    ¡°So at least one of the dwarven stereotypes is true,¡± Lana observed with an amused smile.

    Gronthil scowled. ¡°Listen, I just know iron when I see it, alright?¡±

    ¡°Good news,¡± Rus called from around the corner. ¡°It looks like they won¡¯t be able to see the lights we¡¯ve turned on from the entrance.¡±

    The lights grew brighter as their hope swelled. Rus reappeared a moment later. ¡°Let¡¯s try to keep the jubilation down a little, though.¡±

    ¡°And our voices,¡± Gronthil added. ¡°Sound travels well down these tunnels.¡±

    Now that they were relatively safe, Orin suddenly felt very weary. He drew his sword and sat down, resting his weapon across his lap.

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    ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you?¡± Rus asked.

    Orin looked back at the hunter and frowned. ¡°For the first time since I became aware, I feel tired.¡±

    Gronthil chuckled. ¡°Everyone is shattered, and small wonder. We¡¯ve been fighting nonstop since before we met. We could all use a good rest.¡±

    Darla looked up and down the tunnel before asking. ¡°What do you suppose the purpose of these tunnels is?¡±

    Lana reached up and touched one of the lamps before replying. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, they were for the dungeon¡¯s denizens to travel.¡±

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Darla asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ve not seen anything powered by desire in a dungeon before,¡± the woman paused and looked over at Gronthil. ¡°Have you?¡±

    The dwarf shook his head slowly, and Lana continued. ¡°That makes me think that we have stumbled across an area that is for the exclusive use of the dungeon¡¯s denizens.¡±

    ¡°That makes sense if a denizen¡¯s desires could power a dungeon,¡± Rus pointed out. ¡°But if they could, why bother with the delvers?¡±

    Lana fell silent, and Gronthil sighed. ¡°The man has a point, but this is a curious place nonetheless.¡±

    ¡°The Dungeon Lords,¡± Orin breathed at length.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Lana asked.

    ¡°The ones we encountered so far,¡± Orin said. ¡°They looked like creatures and men from outside the dungeon. These tunnels could be for their exclusive use.¡±

    ¡°That demon you fought, he seemed able to teleport himself,¡± Rus pointed out.

    Lana¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°Wait, you fought a demon and lived to tell the tale?¡±

    ¡°He fought the demon,¡± Rus said, pointing at Orin. ¡°And the demon won, only to spare his life.¡±

    Orin scowled but found he couldn¡¯t refute the statement. ¡°That could just be a power of the demon.¡±

    ¡°I suppose¡­¡± Rus began. ¡°But that begs the question, if the master of this level was pursuing us, why hasn¡¯t he come down here?¡±

    Gronthil shrugged. ¡°Never mind that. I¡¯m more concerned about where we go from here.¡±

    Lana broke into a wan smile. ¡°If these tunnels are shortcuts like I think they are, it could be beneficial to map them out.¡±

    ¡°That could take days,¡± Orin protested.

    ¡°It could also save us a lot of time and a lot of blood,¡± Gronthil pointed out. ¡°Who knows, one of these tunnels might lead us straight to the castle.¡±

    ¡°Or to the surface,¡± Darla murmured.

    The lights around them flared as the group found fresh hope. Then, they felt faint tremors in the ground, and the lights dimmed.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Gronthil gasped.

    ¡°I think it came from behind us,¡± Rus observed.

    Lana turned pale as the tremors grew stronger. ¡°It¡¯s getting closer.¡±

    Orin leapt to his feet and tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword. ¡°Get ready for battle.¡±

    ¡°Whatever is coming is huge,¡± Rus warned.

    ¡°We might be better served running away,¡± Darla said as she struggled to her feet. ¡°I am not able to cast any spells in my current condition.¡±

    ¡°I get it,¡± Orin grumbled. ¡°All of you run ahead. I¡¯ll bring up the rear.¡±

    ¡°Come on,¡± Gronthil said before helping Darla to her feet.

    Lana, meanwhile, wasted no time running down the tunnel at full tilt with Rus hot on her heels. Gronthil and Darla exchanged looks.

    ¡°It¡¯s good to know we have such trustworthy companions,¡± she observed dryly before setting off after the others.

    ¡°Well, they¡¯re as reliable as you can expect from a group of delvers forced together by circumstance,¡± Gronthil remarked.

    ¡°Focus your efforts on running,¡± Orin ordered. ¡°The tremors are getting stronger.¡±

    Darla attempted to run, but stumbled, bringing Gronthil down with her. Orin bit back a curse before scooping the princess up and carrying her under her arm as though she was a tote bag before setting off at full speed down the tunnel.

    ¡°Can¡¯t you carry me in a more dignified manner?¡± Darla protested.

    ¡°Be quiet or you¡¯ll bite your tongue,¡± Orin growled.

    Then, he heard Rus shouting down the tunnel. ¡°We see an exit.¡±

    ¡°That is fortuitous,¡± Gronthil puffed, now lagging far behind the warrior and his luggage.

    Orin turned around and grinned. ¡°Dwarf, can your powers bring this tunnel down?¡±

    Gronthil¡¯s eyes went wide. ¡°We could still use these tunnels to¡­¡±

    ¡°Can you, or can¡¯t you?¡± Orin demanded brusquely, looking the dwarf in the eye in an attempt to bend him to his will.

    ¡°Aye, I think I so,¡± the dwarf conceded at length.

    ¡°Good, once we¡¯re clear, do it,¡± Orin said as an enormous creature rounded a corner behind them.

    It was a worm that was almost ten feet in diameter and its bulk filled the entire tunnel. Its entire head appeared to be a mouth filled with razor sharp teeth and it propelled itself forward with hundreds of sword like hairs that dug into the rock walls of the tunnel with ease.

    ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t turn around,¡± Orin added before picking up his pace.

    Moments later, he heard the dwarf exclaim. ¡°By all the Gods great and small, what is that abomination?!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I told him not to turn around,¡± Orin muttered.

    ¡°Run!¡± Darla cried, craning her neck to see behind them. She then turned to Orin and asked. ¡°Can¡¯t you carry him as well?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Gronthil and Orin cried in unison.

    ¡°By Ardalan¡¯s Blessed Sceptre that¡¯s a rock eater!¡± they heard Lana cry from up ahead.

    ¡°Get outside!¡± Orin roared. ¡°The dwarf is bringing this tunnel down behind us!¡±

    ¡°By the Stonefather, I¡¯ll try my best!¡± Gronthil cried before beginning a chant.

    Orin slowed his pace until he was running side by side with Gronthil and gritted his teeth. From the rumbling under his feet, he could tell that the creature was catching up at a rapid pace. Perhaps it could tell that they would soon be on the surface where perhaps it would not have an advantage. He gripped the hilt of his sword with his free hand and glanced over his shoulder. The creature was less than fifty yards away and appeared to be covered in segmented armour plate. Would his sword be able to pierce its armour in its current state? He hoped he wouldn¡¯t have to find out.

    ¡°Is your spell almost done?¡± Orin demanded.

    The dwarf looked up at him and shot him a quizzical look, as though pointing out that the three of them were still very much inside the tunnel.

    ¡°He can¡¯t speak, or he will have to recite the spell again from the beginning,¡± Darla pointed out.

    ¡°Just nod or shake your head!¡± the warrior cried.

    The dwarf nodded, and Orin shouted. ¡°Do it!¡±

    Gronthil shook his head, and Orin looked pointedly at the creature that was now a mere ten yards away from them. ¡°Just do it!¡±

    The dwarf followed his gaze and hurriedly completed the incantation before placing his hands on the tunnel¡¯s wall. He was forced to stop briefly, and Orin grabbed him by the belt and hurled him out of the creature¡¯s gaping mouth as the tunnel began to collapse around them. The dwarf attempted to make a running landing but stumbled and fell in a heap.

    Orin cursed before grabbing him roughly by the collar to drag the dwarf behind him. As he did, he looked over his shoulder and saw that a large chunk of rock had struck the creature on the head, stunning it briefly. Orin took the opportunity to make a last mad dash as the tunnel collapsed around them. He looked up and saw Lana and Rus standing at the exit, watching them anxiously.

    Soon, they were all outside. Orin dropped Darla unceremoniously and whirled around to see that the creature had recovered and was resuming its charge. He dragged Gronthil to his feet and snarled. ¡°Finish the job!¡±

    The stone shaper obeyed, and the tunnel collapsed with an ear-splitting roar, obliterating all traces of the exit. The resulting collapse caused a shockwave intense enough to knock them all off their feet.

    As he sat on the ground, Orin realized that the tremors hadn¡¯t stopped. His eyes widened at the realization. ¡°Get down, it¡¯s coming!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Gronthil blurted, dumbfounded.

    Moments later, the creature¡¯s immense bulk burst out from the collapsed tunnel entrance, sending shards of rock flying in all directions. Orin looked to the others. Gronthil and Darla lay motionless on the ground, seemingly having been struck by stray rocks, while Rus and Lana had retreated to a safe distance. Finding himself unable to abandon his companions to their fate, the warrior drew his weapon and planted himself between their unmoving bodies and the creature.

 Chapter 16

    The air was thick and permeated by choking, fetid stench. The calls of thousands of unseen insects filled Orin¡¯s ears. The warrior watched as the rock eater¡¯s mouth quivered and twitched threateningly as it cocked its head. It looked as though the creature was disoriented in its new surroundings. Orin could see no eyes on its head. However it was tracking them, it wasn¡¯t through sight.

    An arrow struck the creature in the mouth before bursting into flames. The creature let out a low pitched hiss of irritation, before snapping its jaws shut around it. Rus¡¯ arrow had proven little more than an irritation to the gargantuan beast, but it had created a distraction. One Orin wasn¡¯t going to let slip.

    The warrior ran towards it with sword in hand. His feet seemed to sink in the soft, waterlogged ground underfoot as he ran, slowing him down. The creature sensed his approach and whirled around to lunge at him. As it did, Orin swung upwards with his sword to intercept the creature¡¯s attack from above.

    When he planted his foot, it sank into the unstable ground, throwing the timing of his strike off. The creature, too, sank unexpectedly as it shifted its weight to strike, causing it to fall on top of Orin¡¯s sword, impaling itself on it.

    Orin gasped at the unexpected weight and struggled to keep it positioned upright and drove it through the thick scales that covered the rock eater¡¯s body. He felt the blade begin to buckle under the immense strain but continued forcing it upwards nonetheless. His blade began to bend, but he felt the creature¡¯s scales buckle and gritted his teeth before making a final push.

    The creature let out a roar as the tip of Orin¡¯s sword broke through a scale to pierce the flesh underneath. The creature went limp, and Orin felt his blade bend again as he heaved the creature¡¯s bulk to the side. It landed on the soft ground with a thump. The warrior leapt back when he saw it twitch, before eventually growing still.

    After a few long moments, Orin raised his sword, and his heart sank when he assessed the damage. The blade was badly bent, throwing the balance of the weapon off, and its tip was blunted. Fighting with it would be dangerous.

    ¡°I never thought I would see the day when the Raging Demon place the lives of others before the welfare of his weapon,¡± a voice said.

    Orin whirled around to see a slender, unassuming looking old man standing in the marsh that lay beyond the tunnel¡¯s exit. He was unarmed, and his eyes twinkled with amusement.

    ¡°That¡¯s Urgal, the master of this level,¡± Lana gasped as she distanced herself from the man.

    ¡°Not this level,¡± the man said, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯ve made it to the swamp. I came straight here when I saw that you had entered the tunnels.¡±

    Orin hefted his ruined weapon, trying to get to grips with its imbalanced weight and glowered at the man.

    ¡°No need to look so ferocious,¡± the old man chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. ¡°I have no desire to fight an unarmed man.¡±

    ¡°We can make it a fistfight if you¡¯d like,¡± Orin said, incensed by the perceived slight.

    ¡°Oh,¡± the man¡¯s eyes turned reptilian for a second as he took a step forward. ¡°Do you think that would tip the odds in your favour?¡±

    ¡°I do not need to resort to tricks to win fights,¡± Orin spat indignantly.

    ¡°Hey, meathead!¡± Rus shouted from behind the roots of a mangrove tree. ¡°Look at his feet!¡±

    Orin¡¯s eyes widened when he saw that just walking had caused the man to sink down to his shins in the soft ground. The warrior, meanwhile, had only sunk a half inch in the muddy soil. Just how much did this man weigh?

    The old man smiled impishly. ¡°I shall let you go for now. I look forward to meeting you again when your weapon is reforged.¡±

    The prospect of receiving mercy from this stranger boiled Orin¡¯s blood, but he saw the pleading look on Rus¡¯ face and forced himself to remain silent.

    The amused smile on the old man¡¯s face broadened, and he pointed into the distance. Warily, Orin looked at where he was pointing and saw a wisp of smoke spiralling up into the sky.

    ¡°Until we meet again.¡± The old man stepped backwards into the swamp where the water came up to his ankles. He waved at Orin, and the water began to bubble before pulling the man inside. Moments later, he had disappeared.

    ¡°I am impressed with your restraint,¡± Rus remarked while Lana checked on Gronthil and Darla.

    ¡°How are they?¡± Orin growled.

    Accepting mercy was shameful, and he wanted to move past it quickly. Something was changing within him. Was it caused by the dungeon, or something else?

    ¡°You did the right thing,¡± Darla croaked as Lana helped her sit upright. She glanced over at Gronthil and furrowed her brow with concern. The dwarf was bleeding from a nasty wound on his head and had not stirred.

    ¡°Can you heal him?¡± Lana asked.

    The cleric shook her head feebly. ¡°Not in my current state. He needs to be stabilized until I recover enough strength.¡±

    Rus frowned and looked into the swamp. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here. I can feel eyes on us.¡±

    Orin followed his gaze and felt his hair stand on end. A low growl came a moment later. The warrior looked down at his sword and his heart ached at its condition. However, he wouldn¡¯t hesitate to use it as a bludgeon if he had to.

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    ¡°I¡¯ll fashion a stretcher to move him,¡± Rus said before placing his backpack on the soft, marshy ground. ¡°I also have a roll of bandages in there. If nothing else, we need to keep his wound clean, which will be life saving in these conditions.¡±

    Insects were beginning to swarm, and Lana had to swat them away from the dwarf¡¯s head wound while Darla tended to it. Orin stood guard over the trio without having to be told while Rus gathered firewood, keeping a wary eye on the water and the trees.

    Soon, the makeshift stretcher was ready. They decided that it was better for Orin to have both his hands free in case they encountered anything hostile, so Lana and Rus were the ones to carry Gronthil while Darla was forced to walk unassisted.

    Their pace was excruciatingly slow. They were staying out of the water while maintaining as straight a course to the smoke as they could, but the ground was strewn with exposed roots and abrupt sinkholes that were hard to see in the rapidly dwindling light. Meanwhile, Darla¡¯s strength was flagging. To make matters worse, it soon became apparent that they were being stalked.

    Every now and then, Orin would see a flash of movement in the distance. Then, a howl from an unknown beast. Moments later, an answering howl came. And then another. And another.

    ¡°Sounds like wolves,¡± Rus remarked. ¡°And they have our scent.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful,¡± Lana breathed.

    ¡°Perhaps we should go into the water,¡± Darla suggested. ¡°It will be easier to see them coming from there.¡±

    Rus shook his head. ¡°I saw crocodiles in there. We would be easy prey such as we are.¡±

    The hunter spotted flashes of movement off to the side and frowned before looking around. ¡°We are being flanked.¡±

    Orin felt the blood rush to his head. They were being toyed with by beasts. He would show them. The warrior stalked forward.

    ¡°You are falling into their trap!¡± Rus cried. ¡°They are trying to lure you away so that they can attack us.¡±

    ¡°Then put Gronthil down and fight,¡± Orin growled over his shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯ve counted at least six of them,¡± Rus warned. ¡°I will be one against five, and I will have to cover a wounded man.¡±

    ¡°Are we going to turn the initiative over to a pack of beasts?¡± Orin demanded.

    ¡°Dungeon wolves are far more intelligent than those found out in the overworld,¡± Lana pointed out.

    ¡°How did you deal with them?¡± Darla asked weakly. ¡°When last you came through here.¡±

    The sorceress shrugged. ¡°With fire. Though they may be more intelligent, they still fear fire. Unfortunately, that option is not available to us at this time.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re so smart, that¡¯s all the more reason not to turn the initiative over to them,¡± Orin objected.

    ¡°As I said, you going out alone out there would be playing into their hands,¡± Rus pointed out.

    ¡°Paws,¡± Lana blurted and winced upon receiving dirty looks from both Rus and Orin.

    ¡°This really isn¡¯t the time or the place,¡± Darla suggested softly.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think there is a time or a place for that sort of thing,¡± Rus scoffed.

    Orin grunted in agreement and Lana sighed. ¡°Well, if we¡¯re done ganging up on me, I have a suggestion. We can barely see our feet. We will need to stop for the night and build a fire which should keep them away.¡±

    ¡°I might have a better idea,¡± Rus began. ¡°Oi, take over for me, will you?¡±

    ¡°Mind your manners,¡± Orin growled before taking the stretcher from the hunter.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Lana ventured, craning her neck to see.

    ¡°Take this,¡± Rus said, handing Orin a dried branch, which obliged him to carry his end of the stretcher with one hand.

    The sorceress¡¯ eyes widened when he pulled an arrow from Fire and held it to each branch until it caught fire. ¡°My, that¡¯s useful. Where did you get it?¡±

    ¡°Forest Lake,¡± he replied. ¡°In the village.¡±

    ¡°The village?¡± Lana¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. ¡°I didn¡¯t think there was anything in there worth a damn.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I,¡± Rus admitted. ¡°Stumbling across it was quite fortuitous even though it almost cost us our lives.¡±

    ¡°It could fetch quite the fortune from the right person,¡± Lana remarked.

    The hunter turned to Lana and winked. ¡°Aye, but the trick is getting out of here alive to sell it.¡±

    ¡°You want us to keep going by torchlight?¡± Lana ventured.

    Orin raised his branch, and the flames cast long shadows out into the swamp. Then, he saw four pairs of eyes reflecting the light in the distance.

    ¡°There they are,¡± he murmured.

    Darla, meanwhile, was looking at Gronthil with concern. The dwarf¡¯s face was as white as a sheet, and she placed a hand on his cheek. ¡°He¡¯s cold. He won¡¯t make it through the night like this.¡±

    ¡°Right then,¡± Rus breathed before nocking a fire arrow. ¡°Let¡¯s see how they react to this.¡±

    The hunter released the arrow, sending it flying towards a pair of eyes. The wolf yelped as the arrow struck it between the eyes before falling over and bursting into flames. The fire illuminated another brown furred wolf, and even though he could not remember ever seeing one before, he was taken off guard at just how large it was. It stood almost as tall as Rus at the shoulder, and its head was as large as a horse¡¯s.

    The illuminated wolf snarled before charging at the group. Rus felled it with another arrow. By now, the fire from the first wolf¡¯s corpse had spread to a nearby tree, illuminating more of their surroundings. More glowing eyes became visible, and Orin felt his pulse quicken. A slaughter was about to take place.

    ¡°Set him down,¡± he said to Lana. ¡°We are going to have to make a stand.¡±

    ¡°So much for being afraid of fire,¡± she said. Her voice was quiet as she peered into the darkness around them.

    ¡°That¡¯s right, we forgot to tell you that the rules had changed since you were imprisoned,¡± Darla remarked.

    ¡°The two of you should stay close to the dwarf,¡± Orin ordered before handing the burning branch to the sorceress and drawing his ruined sword. ¡°The hunter and I will do our best to keep them at bay.¡±

    Lana tried to keep a brave face and nodded, but her hands trembled as they clutched the burning branch. Orin turned around and placed himself between them and a wolf that had stepped into the light. The creature snarled, revealing a mouth full of teeth that were the size of daggers.

    Orin heard a wolf yelp in pain behind him and turned his head as though to see. His bait worked, and the wolf in front of him charged. He swung his sword but was dismayed at how off balance the crooked blade was. His swing was slow, and though it ran contrary to his every instinct, he was forced to let it fly out of his grasp so that he could bring his hands up to deal with the lunging wolf. He jammed his gauntleted hands into the creature¡¯s mouth and used brute strength to rip its mouth apart.

    The creature yelped and writhed at his feet, but before he could deliver the finishing blow, he saw another barrelling towards him. He grabbed this one by the neck as it flew at him and snapped its neck as they fell in a heap.

    As he lay on the ground, he saw that the trees around them were all ablaze thanks to Rus¡¯ barrage of fire arrows, turning night into day and revealing dozens of wolves that barred their teeth while they circled the group.

    Before Orin could scramble to his feet, another wolf leapt on him. It was all Orin could do to keep its snapping jaws at bay when another clamped its jaws around his thigh. The creature¡¯s fangs pierced the steel armour, and Orin gritted his teeth against the pain as he struggled for purchase against the one trying to rip his throat out.

    As the jaws came ever closer to his neck, a roar of thunder echoed over the swamp followed by a massive explosion that shook the ground Orin was lying on. The sound distracted the wolf long enough for the warrior to grab it firmly by the head and twist it backwards, snapping its neck. Lana then shoved her burning branch into the eye of the wolf that was savaging his leg. The creature shrieked before going limp, and the warrior leapt to his feet to find the remaining wolves had scattered into the night.

    ¡°What was that?¡± he gasped.

    ¡°Are you idiots trying to burn down my swamp?¡± a voice boomed out of the darkness.

 Chapter 17

    Orin searched the darkness for the owner of the voice but soon became aware of the intensifying heat from the fires that raged around them.

    ¡°We need to move!¡± Rus warned as he and Lana lifted Gronthil¡¯s stretcher.

    ¡°Whoever summoned that explosion is still out there,¡± Orin said, picking up his sword. ¡°They could be preparing a second attack!¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to get moving!¡± Rus pointed out.

    Orin looked around and saw that the fire had surrounded them. The heat was intense enough to drive him back a pace. ¡°Where can we go?¡±

    ¡°Into the water, you idiots!¡± the voice from earlier called out of the darkness. ¡°Then follow the sound of my voice!¡±

    ¡°Do we trust him?¡± Orin asked softly.

    ¡°We¡¯re cooked if we don¡¯t do as he says,¡± Lana said.

    ¡°She has a point,¡± Darla offered.

    Orin clicked his tongue irritably before conceding. ¡°Fine, let¡¯s go.¡±

    The warrior led the way into the waist deep water, which obliged Lana and Rus to hoist the stretcher onto their shoulders. A fallen tree that had been set ablaze barred their path, but at least they were no longer in immediate danger from the fire.

    ¡°Keep your heads down!¡± the voice warned.

    ¡°What do you¡­¡±

    Rus¡¯ words were drowned out by another thunderous roar. Moments later, Orin saw a flash of movement as something crashed into the fallen tree, smashing it into splinters.

    ¡°Run!¡± the voice cried. ¡°Run towards the sound of my voice!¡±

    ¡°Go!¡± Rus roared when Orin hesitated.

    The warrior ground his teeth in frustration, knowing he had no choice. He readied his sword all the same before charging through the breach the explosion had created. Once they cleared it, he heard creaking behind them and turned around to see burning trees crashing onto the patch of water they had just been standing in.

    ¡°This way,¡± the voice growled out of the darkness. ¡°The swamp should keep the fire contained, but we should move quickly before the beasts return.¡±

    ¡°Step out into the light,¡± Orin ordered. ¡°I would like to see you before we follow you any further.¡±

    ¡°Follow me, or continue blundering through this swamp in the dark, the choice is yours,¡± the voice replied. ¡°However, it doesn¡¯t look like your friend has much time.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s right, Orin,¡± Darla said. ¡°We need to get Gronthil somewhere safe.¡±

    Orin felt the vein in his forehead throb. If it were up to him, he would have marched off into the night, but he had companions to consider now. It was all proving a right pain in the arse, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to abandon them.

    ¡°Come along, this way,¡± the voice said cheerfully.

    The voice soon led them out of the water, and as they travelled further from the fire, the forest became dark again, making navigating the root and sinkhole strewn ground difficult. However, the owner of the voice seemed to have no problems with the dark and led them along without using any source of light Orin could discern.

    Orin cursed as he tripped on a root and fell face first into the foul, sodden soil. A light appeared, and the warrior looked up to see Rus standing over him, holding a flaming arrow in his hand.

    ¡°Take this,¡± he offered. ¡°It doesn¡¯t provide much light, but it¡¯s better than nothing.¡±

    ¡°That will attract predators,¡± the voice warned.

    ¡°We can¡¯t follow you through here if we can¡¯t see,¡± Rus pointed out.

    ¡°Extinguish your flame and just shuffle your feet to follow me,¡± the voice ordered. ¡°Or I abandon you here.¡±

    Orin was about to explode with rage when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Darla, and the light from the arrow revealed the pleading look on her face. Orin cursed softly and picked himself off the ground.

    ¡°Do as he says,¡± he ordered Rus through gritted teeth.

    ¡°Very good,¡± the voice said cheerfully when Rus extinguished the flame. ¡°Come on now, follow the sound of my voice.¡±

    They had only gone around twenty paces when Orin felt the ground underfoot turn from marshy soil into solid stone. The warrior had been walking with his arms outstretched to forewarn him of any hidden obstacles, and after roughly five paces over relatively smooth stone, he felt his fingertips brush against a rock face.

    ¡°Yes, we¡¯ve arrived,¡± the voice said as though reading his thoughts. ¡°That wasn¡¯t so arduous, was it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir, you¡¯ve helped us greatly, but we don¡¯t even know your name,¡± Darla began.

    ¡°Introductions can wait,¡± the voice said. It was closer now, but it was so dark that Orin couldn¡¯t even see his hand in front of his face. ¡°Mind the step and come on in.¡±

    Orin cursed when his foot caught the top of an unseen ledge, sending him stumbling into a table. Something clattered off the table before landing on the floor with a crash.

    The voice let out a tired sigh before saying. ¡°Please do try to be careful.¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be a problem if only we had some light,¡± Orin muttered under his breath.

    Soon, a rumbling sound filled the air. It was accompanied by a slight tremor, as though something heavy was being dragged across the floor. The atmosphere changed quickly. The air grew heavy, as though they were all enclosed in a small room. Footsteps padded from one side of the room to the other, and another door opened, and a warm glow spilled out, illuminating their room. It was accompanied by a sudden gust of hot air.

    When Orin¡¯s eyes adjusted to the light, he saw that the other stone walled room was dominated by a forge, and the light was coming from the lit coals in its hearth. He looked around the room and jumped when he noticed a dwarf standing behind him, examining his bent sword.

    ¡°I remember this blade,¡± the dwarf¡¯s skin was bronzed and lined with age, and his white beard was tied into two neat braids. ¡°This is Tempest¡­ and you are Garthan¡­ How curious. Why were dungeon creatures attacking one of their lords?¡±

    ¡°I am not that man,¡± Orin said sharply.

    The old dwarf broke into a smile. ¡°You are not someone even one as old as me would confuse for another.¡±

    He furrowed his thick white eyebrows thoughtfully as he looked into Orin¡¯s eyes. ¡°Although, I must admit, your demeanour has changed markedly from when last we met. How curious¡­¡±

    ¡°The introductions can wait, sir,¡± Darla said. ¡°As you noted earlier, our companion is in dire straits and needs immediate help.¡±

    The old dwarf blinked. ¡°Ah, you can set him by the fire. You are a cleric, yes?¡±

    ¡°I am,¡± Darla admitted as Rus and Lana carried Gronthil into the next room. ¡°Though I am not able to heal him at the moment.¡±

    ¡°And no wonder,¡± the dwarf exclaimed. ¡°You look like you are at the end of your rope. I will prepare some food, modest though it may be.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for your hospitality,¡± Darla said as the old dwarf gently guided her to a cushioned chair. ¡°Your aid is greatly appreciated. Might I know your name?¡±

    ¡°Therson,¡± the old dwarf replied, looking at each of the group in turn. His eyes lit up when he saw Lana. ¡°Ah, Ms Hanley, weren¡¯t you just by not more than a week ago? You have new companions¡­¡±

    ¡°A lot has happened,¡± Lana said before turning to the others. ¡°This is the blacksmith of whom I spoke.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d noticed,¡± Therson said as he retrieved dishes from a nearby cupboard and set the small table in the first room which was a reception room of sorts. ¡°The new regime certainly has a¡­ different way of doing things.¡±

    ¡°We seek to confront the Dungeon Master and put an end to his machinations,¡± Darla said. ¡°Will you help us?¡±

    ¡°In every way I can,¡± Therson replied. ¡°Which is to say, I will mend your equipment and succour you here as best I can. However, I¡¯m afraid I cannot accompany you, if that is what you mean.¡±

    ¡°We wouldn¡¯t expect you to accompany us,¡± Rus said quickly.

    ¡°You said you¡¯ve met me before,¡± Orin interjected.

    The old dwarf poured hot water from a kettle into a teapot before looking up at the warrior and smiling. ¡°Yes, you came by here¡­ oh it was over a month ago now, I think. You and your companion¡­¡±

    Orin felt the blood rush to his face. ¡°Do you mean Derlek? Derlek Fontane?¡±

    ¡°That was his name, I think,¡± Therson nodded before handing Darla a cup filled with steaming liquid. ¡°Here, drink this. It will help you sleep.¡±

    ¡°Answer me!¡± Orin¡¯s voice boomed through the enclosed chamber, causing the others to wince.

    Therson, though, was unmoved by the giant man¡¯s outburst. He turned to the others and raised the small porcelain teapot. ¡°Tea? I¡¯m afraid it hasn¡¯t had much time to steep, but I think it more important to warm your bodies.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps tea can wait,¡± Rus suggested with an uncomfortable smile.

    The old dwarf shrugged and turned to Orin. ¡°This is certainly a change. The old you would probably have slapped this teapot out of my hand in a rage.¡±

    ¡°The thought had crossed my mind,¡± Orin said through gritted teeth.

    Therson set the teapot down and chuckled softly. ¡°I must apologize for teasing you. I was testing you to see if you truly had changed¡­ and it appears you have.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Orin demanded.

    The old dwarf sat in an easy chair facing the warrior and scrutinized him with his slate grey eyes before speaking. ¡°Yes¡­ you have changed¡­ Or rather, you were changed by some sort of magic¡­¡±

    ¡°What sort of magic?¡± Orin asked when his voice trailed off.

    ¡°That I cannot say,¡± Therson admitted at length. ¡°I¡¯m afraid magic isn¡¯t my area of expertise¡­ Metal is. If you would entrust me with your sword again, I will see to making it as good as new. Better, even.¡±

    ¡°Could you also do something about this?¡± Lana asked, pointing at the collar around her neck.

    ¡°Ah yes, I can get that off you right now, if you¡¯d like,¡± Therson offered before getting to his feet again.

    ¡°Please,¡± Lana said.

    ¡°What was Derlek after when he came here?¡± Orin asked while Therson rummaged through a box of tools by the hearth.

    The dwarf looked at Orin and blinked. ¡°Why, to conquer this dungeon, of course. And he succeeded, from the look of it.¡±

    ¡°What sort of person was Derlek?¡± Darla ventured.

    Thorsen retrieved a long nail and a hammer from the box and gestured for Lana to sit on a stool before replying. ¡°Friendly enough, reserved, though. Wouldn¡¯t speak of himself much.¡±

    The dwarf then fell silent to focus his attention on the lock on Lana¡¯s collar. He poked at it with the nail for a moment before raising his hammer. ¡°Don¡¯t move.¡±

    Lana held her neck out and closed her eyes as the dwarf gave the nail a sharp tap. The lock sprang open with a click, the collar popped off.

    ¡°That¡¯s better,¡± Lana said grinning broadly. She raised her hands and frowned when nothing happened.

    ¡°It will take a while for your powers to return,¡± Therson said. ¡°You should rest. All of you.¡±

    Lana glanced over at Darla who had fallen asleep in her chair and shot Rus a look. The hunter nodded. ¡°Orin and I will keep watch while the two of you sleep.¡±

    The hunter then turned to Therson. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to pry, but why have you set up a smithy in the heart of a dungeon?¡±

    Therson arched an eyebrow. ¡°Well, there is a steady supply of customers, for one.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it dangerous?¡± Rus ventured. ¡°Surrounded by dangerous beasts?¡±

    ¡°For whatever reason, they don¡¯t come by this way,¡± the dwarf explained. ¡°Besides, there¡¯s a satisfaction I cannot put into words from helping ambitious delvers on their first journey.¡±

    ¡°If you say so,¡± Rus said dubiously. ¡°By the way, how did you navigate the swamp like that?¡±

    The old dwarf blinked and glanced at Gronthil. ¡°Didn¡¯t you know? Dwarves can see in the dark.¡±

    ¡°He never mentioned that,¡± Rus grunted before breaking into a broad grin. ¡°A dwarven blacksmith, at least one of you lives up to the stereotypes.¡±

    A blank look crossed the old dwarf¡¯s face, and Orin cleared his throat. ¡°Those explosions, they were your doing¡­¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± Therson nodded and cocked his head at a contraption standing by the main door. It resembled a black steel cauldron attached to pivots so that it could be angled up and down, which was in turn attached to a wheeled wagon. ¡°It¡¯s a cannon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard of those,¡± Rus breathed. ¡°Newfangled things. Never thought I¡¯d see one down here.¡±

    Orin glanced at the women and saw they were both asleep. He then walked over to the dwarf and eyed him up and down. ¡°I can¡¯t put my finger on why, but I get the distinct feeling you aren¡¯t being completely truthful with us.¡±

    ¡°No, he¡¯s right, that¡¯s a cannon,¡± Rus objected.

    ¡°Not about that,¡± Orin snapped and waved his hand around the workshop. ¡°About this¡­ something doesn¡¯t add up¡­¡±

    ¡°Now wait a minute, he¡¯s sheltering us and¡­¡± Rus began.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s quite alright,¡± Therson said with a wave of his hand. ¡°He¡¯s right, and you feel it as well. My story doesn¡¯t add up¡­¡±

    The old dwarf eyed Orin and took a deep breath. ¡°I don¡¯t know what happened between you and Derlek, warrior, but I believe you had a falling out.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not going to the castle to join him, if that¡¯s what you¡¯re worried about,¡± Orin stated.

    ¡°No, I wouldn¡¯t imagine you are,¡± Therson shook his head. ¡°He¡¯s done things to this place¡­ Things I cannot agree with.¡±

    The dwarf looked Orin in the eye, and the warrior saw a flash of strength in them before coming to a realization. ¡°You¡¯re the Dungeon Master¡­¡±

    ¡°The former Dungeon Master,¡± Therson said. ¡°The one you and your friend deposed.¡±