One Moo'r Plow

Blessed was I, that I inhabited this body and not another. The minotaur physique was uniquely suited to go long periods without rest, I had discovered over the past few weeks. While it was optimal to acquire sleep, it was not, strictly, needed. Tiredness soon faded and my inner reserves were called upon as I held myself upright and felt the fog slowly dissipate from my mind.

“Half-day’s journey from here to the tower.” Le’rish continued from her own seat. There was a blank tiredness in the huntress’s eye, only interrupted by how quickly she chewed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Artyom bring out yet another length of dried meat.

“Le’rish.” She glanced upwards at the interruption, seeing the faint worry upon my face. “Have you perhaps eaten in the past several days?”

“Mmm.” She shrugged and swallowed. “Rations ran out after second day. Didn’t want to waste time returning home for more. Scavenged a little.”

“So that’s a no.” Ishila frowned from next to her. The two had shared a moment once Le’rish had returned, all warm hugs and happy expressions. This had passed, and now there were more serious topics at hand.

“Needed to be found sooner than later.” Le’rish spoke in defence of her bad habits. “Rest and food could wait. Time is invaluable.”

“On that, I agree.” I gestured around. “Your news comes at a welcome time.”

Her curiosity was piqued as I and Ishila alternated to fill her in on the freshly-occurred attack and its consequences. Expression adamant throughout, she chewed on a fresh link of sausage and nodded occasionally. With every morsel she consumed, her posture straightened just a bit further. If this was the effect of a class skill, then I had to admit a part of me was jealous as I watched her regain energy right before my eyes.

“We delve today, then.” I rumbled. “Every hour idly spent is another chance for the fort to be overrun. They barely hold on at this point. Every wave could very well be the last.”

“And if the dungeon breaks free, this land is damned.” Ishila repeated what everyone already knew. “The Baron’s army is the largest force in the area, and as much of a bastard as the man is, Ironmoor has done the right thing and diverted all available troops to the garrison. But his army ain’t large enough, and it’ll take a lot of political wranglin’ an’ time for more forces to show.”

“We have all agreed that to flee here now, when we could be the ones to make a difference would be to live in shame and cowardice.” I rumbled solemnly. “I could not in good conscience live with myself if I let so many die when my strength could have stopped it. Try as I might to have lain down my weapons and live a life of peace, it is time for war.”

“Good.” Le’rish agreed, no lengthy speech needed from her. “Ishila, get your parents. Please.”

The orc lass hopped up, nodded to us, whirled and tore across the yard, running full tilt up the trail.

Silence crept upon us in her wake, yet I did not welcome its presence. This was it. Possibly the most important danger we would face. Our lives were not a sure thing within the dungeon. Our return even less so. If I was to go and lay down my short life for others, I intended to face it with all possible knowledge that might be gleaned.

“And you, huntress.” I spoke. “How do you fare?”

The short pause that came stretched into a moment’s hesitation, then a quiet stillness as Le’rish pondered her words. Exhaustion was set not in her features, but in how she held herself, in the way she slowly moved. Though she fought against it, I was well enough versed in the language of bodies for it to be clear in my eyes.

“Tired.” She put it bluntly. “One hunt after the next. Now we dive into the darkness.”

“You fear it?” Curiosity nudged on my words.

“Not particularly. I approach every danger as if it may claim my life. I am a Stalker, Garek. The quiet hunter among the trees. What good am I, constrained by stone tunnels and bare chambers of stone?”

For perhaps the first time, I heard her sigh. Her hardened facade slipped just a little as her head tilted back and gazed up at dawn’s clouded sky.

“We fear the monsters within the dungeon. Not the charnel house itself. Pray you only lose life or limb within, and not what truly makes you whole. Your humanity, although that word does not apply to us. Never did.”

“Fools venture within to seek treasures and strength. Yet that place will always take more than it gives.”

There was scant little conversation after that, only short answers to my myriad of questions. Yet we were not left like this for long. Sudden pressure raced through my eardrums as the air itself cracked and split. Three figures appeared before me, holding onto each other.

Velton stepped from the teleport, dressed in a short, rune-covered tunic and loose pants. Combat robes, I guessed. Tehalis sported form-fitted armor that made nary a sound as she shifted and glanced around. Ishila gripped the mirror shield in one hand and enchanted axe in the other, although it seemed smaller now.

All of this I took in as attention turned to Le’rish.

“The tower.” Velton spoke sharply. “Shall we go now?”

“No.” Le’rish heaved herself up. “Only you and I for now.”

“Why?”

“Surveillance.” The huntress grunted. “There will be detection sigils, alarm spells and far more. Would you expect a place so valuable to be unguarded, even if not by human hands?”

“Your thinking is sound.” The elf agreed briskly. “Your proposal?”

“Your magic will move us there at all speed. Less bodies, less exposure. I disarm the traps, you teleport back for the others. Simple as. Traps disarmed and sigils unactivated, we descend into the dungeon without another enemy aware of our presence and able to take advantage of it. We already know Valencia will be just as worthy a horror as any we find in the stone depths.”

“I have no counter-argument.” Velton nodded and looked around at his wife and daughter. “Let us go.”

True to his word, the elf wasted no time. Tattoos and runes wriggled across his bare forearms as spells enveloped the time. I gestured farewell as they streaked across the yard and along the forest’s edge, over twice their regular speed and surrounded by an aura that blurred them from sight.

“Rest now, for there will be none once we are among the stone tombs.” Tehalis grunted and seated herself. Warpaint streaked the wyld orc’s face, accented by the spirits that swirled around her. Curiosity compelled me to stare at the specters, an action that elicited only a shrug from her. I was, it seemed, far from the first to express fascination in this.

Every moment I sat here, the awareness that this was far from optimal grew within. It Will Not Die still lay dormant, not yet ready to be called upon again, and Brazen Bull Behemoth had just been freshly used. It would require time to reach its full potential again. Time I sorely lacked.

Armed as I was in body and mind, I dreaded this journey. I knew not the danger, only that it required a stalwart soul to face and overcome. Time and again, the greatest fear to haunt a man was that of the unknown, and its shapeless form stared down at me now. Even within this mighty body, bolstered by divine might and steeled with righteous purpose, there crept doubt within me.

“Rations and Drink.” Tehalis abruptly cut through the silence. “Do you have any prepared with you?”

I did not.

“Pack for yourself, and some for others if needed. We know not how long this will take, and delving consumes particularly large amounts of energy. Frequent combat and constant alertness does that, although I think you would be familiar with such things.”

Garek was. I was not.

“Very well.” I nodded and stood. Just another pack to carry. It did not take overly long for my to fill a waterskin and cram a pack full of dried goods to much on. Just one more source of weight on my already laden belt. And then, the waiting continued.

It was near midday when the air was once more split apart, a thunderous clap sheering through monotonous silence. Velton stepped from thin air and gestured. It took all of a second for me to wave goodbye to Gol and Artyom. Another for me to clasp the elf’s shoulder. Less than that to be violently wrenched sideways through reality itself and emerge in a new, unfamiliar place.

Trees surrounded an overgrown, squat stone tower on all sides, the structure almost choked off by nature. A worn path along the ground showed movement in and out, but other than that it was almost entirely closed off. I blinked and nodded at the sudden shift, not so much as dizzy or nauseous as I had expected teleportation to be. A glance around revealed Le’rish slightly hunched before the tower’s doorway, patiently working away at something.

“Snares and alarm sigils have been stripped.” She grunted back over her shoulder. “Stay away and give me several moments to finish this one.”

Not fool enough to wander around randomly and set off more, I complied. The group sort of awkwardly stood amidst the small clearing, armed to the teeth and ready for the slaughter while the huntress worked away silently. A faint cough broke the air just before Le’rish stood and nodded to me.

“Door kicking, anyone?”

Eager as I was the comply, Velton simply sighed and wrenched the door open with a smooth wave and invisible force.

“No need to immediately give ourselves away to anyone who happens to come by here.”

His logic, while sound, did deprive me of a rare and excellent opportunity. Unfortunately, I did agree with him on this all.

One after another, they disappeared through the low doorway, bodies swallowed by the darkness within. Through it all, I could not shake the feeling that eyes rested upon me, though the wind betrayed no scent. Yet, watched or not, this mission would go through anyway.

I was forced to stoop through the doorway and emerge from the other side to find my companions clustered around a hole gouged into the floor.

“Ladder has been removed.” Le’rish grunted and gestured to markings.

“Be thankful then, that I have no need for such human things.” Velton smiled thinly. A snap of his fingers, and rock pulled itself from the walls of the tunnel to form a long, slow descent that wound down into the darkness.

“We tread into the dungeon’s realm now.” He looked around. “And I am the only one that can see its treachery in the magical plane. Should I command something, do not hesitate.”

Affirmations came from the group.

“Good then. Garek, if you could lead, given you are perhaps the most resilient and skilled in combat?”

I saw no issue with this. Breath steadied, I carefully drew my weapon and stepped onto the conjured stone. The cramped, angled staircase was not to my liking, but it served a purpose and carried me downwards. More and more joined me, in single file as he descended towards the heart of darkness. Orbs of light swam around us, Velton’s creation bringing life to the heavy darkness.

Nothing ambushed us upon the stairs. There came no sudden, fatal attack from the gloom. Only quiet, faraway sounds, almost drowned by the echo of my hooves upon the smooth rock.

Too soon, the stairs ended, and I found old, carved stone beneath me, a small cave torn into the side of a long, dead hallway.

“And now, the true test.” Le’rish grunted as she emerged next to me. “Find our purpose within this place, or perish.”

From on high, at the tunnel’s mouth, a figure stood nad watched as stone slid back into the walls, all trace of the party’s passage erased. Or so they thought.

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