Runes of Magic US / AU

Context: This series of short stories is mostly told from the point of view of a character named Ghostlord in the world of Runes of Magic. These stories are written in a relaxed and comical fashion. There will be shoutouts to different members of the community within some of them, so if you'd like to see yourself play an important role, or just plain want to be that creepy Varanas guard that trips elderly women as they trundle off towards the market, stay tuned or give me a hollar via private message!


The purpose of these stories is for me to keep my writing skills sharpened. After hours of writing serious, detail packed stuff, occasionally one needs to relax with a hefty dose of comedic stylings.


Disclaimer and forewarnings: The content contained within these stories will not be complete. The idea is to move from one plot of the main story to the other without including excessive amounts of arduous reading. Some things will be left out. Parts of the story will intentionally be inaccurate or have fact changes for smoother transitions. If some of you are writers yourself and want to use my works as a reference, go right ahead, just be sure to credit me when you do.


Text will be colored coded in dialogues for a smoother reading experience. If a certain color is not to your liking, bug me and I will change it. For the Forum Moderators out there, Ghostlord's dialogue will always be in a green color when he speaks and certain characters will have their own green dialogues.


Early versions of each story will be found on my Guestbook before they are added to the thread for archiving purposes. Be sure to login to your account, then search for Ghostlord, go to my profile, and then click Guestbook. The Guestbook records posts from bottom to top. So that's where you'll find your chronology.


Due to the limitations of the forums, It will take at least one hour in between consecutive posts. So bear with me. First story will be up soon. In the meantime, you can always check out my Guestbook.

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a ghost? It ain't pretty I tell ya. Between the ghoul festive balls, the annual lich haunting parades, the ghostbusters, and all attempts to avoid noonwraiths (nobody likes noonwraiths, they smell funny and can't tell jokes to save their lives); It all just becomes so harrowing. So what is a bored lord of the ghosts to do? Why! Meddle in the affairs of the living of course! But wait, you're probably wondering; How did you become lord of an esteemed establishment of undead apparitions, why are you dead, and how much will I receive for taking a contract to hunt you down?

Well all of these things are tied together quite nicely in a short story I shall now regale you with! Except for the contract fee. That you'll have to ask your local Witchering notice board about and haggle for a fee dependent on how much trouble I may or may not be worth at the time, multiplied by the difficulty of tracking and/or slaying myself within a reasonable timeframe so as not to cause the local populace too much strife. It's all relative. Now, if you're finished negotiating your hunting fees, let us begin!


It all started about 472 years ago. I, not unlike you, was hired on by the good people of Varanas to rid their rural folk of a witch residing within the Forsaken Abby. I was a knight and a priest. A man of the clergy of pious devotion. Well, as devoted as a fistful of coin goes. The fist of God carrying out the will of God, smiting evil where it slumbered! Helping others in need as I saw fit. No, scratch that last part. Have you seen some of the peasants around these parts? Ruuuuuuudeee! This all changed the day I died. But we'll get to that soon.

Upon descending into the undercroft of the Abby, I began the arduous search for the ruins from whence my prey lurked. About 3 bottles of whiskey and 22 hours later, I found the candelabra concealing the rubble, climbed in, smote my way past spectres, wraiths, zombies, and...goo things? And soon found myself face-to-face with the Demon Witch, Ancalon.

A mighty battled ensued. I, with my powers of light vs her, with her powers of darkness. The fight raged on for hours as we both exhausted our resources, pushing ourselves to the limits of our unnatural abilities. Me, panting and kneeling in the dirt, her swaying and flickering opposite of I; We were both too drained. Still, I gathered what strength I could, lifted my hammer, and prepared myself once more until I heard a sharp, wispy: "Stop!"

"Stop!" Ancalon repeated. "Why are we fighting anyways? I have no quarrel with you. Have I done something to offend you in any way?"

Stunned by the fact that an undead monstrosity had such good manners, I could only stand there and think. I thunked for many minutes until I finally conceded, that yes, I indeed had no quarrel with this undead Witch. I wasn't even being paid for the job, so I up and left. As I ascended the stairs from the Abby's undercroft, I met a man garbed in a purple sachet. He grinned widely, showing oddly misshapen teeth below his beak of a nose.

"Oye G'day Guvnor ahh do saiy ahh do. Wha's a little chaswilliwhampa loik you duin owel tha way out he'ar yus?" He buggared with a thick english accent.

I raised my hand in confusion, about to ask him what he was on about, until I was stabbed through the heart with a dagger the man had pulled from...I don't even know where. My body crumpled beneath the altar a second later. His last words I can still hear to this day.

"Ye lefteth a roight mess yu did, mhmm. I oughtta balast me bugarth with me bugleswyorth......"

Then I died.

2 months later, I rose back up from the dead, inhabited a suit of armor, killed a random british cobbler on the roads, terrorized the locals, raised up an undead ribbon company, became a tycoon, was voted lord of the ghosts for life, and then became mayor of a little village up the coast.

Being Lord of the Ghosts has many perks. You get to sleep in on Sundays. You're invited to the fanciest hauntings in town. You can kill whom you please. You even get the top choice of grave dust during an undead harvest. And Halloween, don't get me started on Halloween. Best derned event of the dead ever.


But enough of the perks, let's move onto me shall we? Always a favorite subject of mine. So anyway, I'm a ghost that's inhabited a suit of armor. There are a number of advantages to this form of undeath. For one, you can interact with your surroundings so very well! Nothing like being able to turn the knob on a door with your own hand or bludgeon a peasant to death with his own spinal cord! Number two, you can blend in with the locals! I once sat down in an inn called the Golden Giblets in central Varanas city. Everyone was dressed in a your local attire; cloth rags, hand-me-down dresses, the occasional piecemail armor from adventurers, me in my enormous green plate armor with shining yellow eyes, a massive spiked shield, and a weapon that could cleave a bear in two. Everyone blended in quite well. I mean the eyes are almost a "dead" giveaway, it's hard to rub dragon magic out of a helmet carved from dragon scales ya know? But other than the eyes, I'd say the locals accepted me as one of their own. I mean there were a couple angry rioters outside of my mansion estate carved of bones and sinew every so often. But hey, this is Varanas, town of the strange and peddlars of the stranger. There are always bound to be a few angry mobs hellbent on driving out the newcomers.


So there I was, sitting on my throne of bones, sipping serenstrum extract from the skull of one who so graciously donated it for a just cause, when a rather rude gathering of armed guards stormed my estate. I was a tad bit concerned, for my extract was getting cold and I didn't dare begin a conversation with cold serenstrum. So I hastily downed the whole skull before I could be rudely interrupted again. So there they were, the guards, very angrily swaggering around my chair of corrosion. Well obviously they're angry about last week's town baker. I mean he did whip up a good pie, but his candy corn bread was downright awful. They probably just want the body back so they could maim it as they saw fit.


A moment later and their captain approached me. He was garbed in a rather dull gold chain armor, with a bronze depiction of the Varanas emblem over his breastplate. If he wanted to stand out, gold wasn't the way to go. A sleek bloodstain spelling "Doom", or a severed head hanging from a pendant carved from the flesh of a boar's bicep would have been flashier. But, I'm not one to judge. I just felt that the color's he was wearing would clash with the interior decoration. Not to mention his corpse.


So the captain stopped before me, raised his sword and begin spewing pleasantries.


"Are you the self proclaimed Lord of Ghosts that so violently murdered half the townsfolk and built this despicable monument from their remains?" He said rather politely, with a twinge of excitement! Or perhaps anger, iunno.


So, as the owner and proprietor of an esteemed mansion such as this, it was only natural that I respond in a likewise cordial manner.


"Why yes my bald headed friend! What brings you to my humble abode? I'm afraid the the butlers are a bit strung up at the moment and the maids are hanging around somewhere. But do come in! Share a drink with me! Have a slice of this pie. It's to die for!"


"You despicable cur. You come into our town, kill our people, and then rant about as if this is some sort of game?!!"


"Please my good man, you flatter me too much. I haven't even gotten to know your name yet and already you've stuck a dagger in my heart and started twisting. You are far too kind. We should slow down a bit. I'm dying to know more about you!"


"My name is Grachius Cike, Captain of the Varanas Guard, and protector of this city! I don't think you understand abomination. If it were up to me, you'd be killed on the spot and destroyed in the most inhumane manner possible! Do not tempt me, for that option is still on the table."


"My my! You really do have good bedside manners! Captain...Cike is it? To what pleasure do I owe such a visit from an esteemed person such as yourself. Are you here on business or pleasure?"


"I come bearing an offer from Governor Baranick Soulcalibur. He is in need of a man with your...particular taste in murder. If you undertake this venture, he is willing to grant you...uggh...amnesty for your crimes and allow you to move into the Necropolis of Mirrors."


"The Necropolis eh? Murder eh? Crime eh? I'm sorry, you had me at murder. Please go on. I am quite interested."


"Well I had hoped you'd do this the hard way. Fine. Governor Soulcalibur has been hunting this cult known as the Zurhidon for many years. He has driven them back to their base of operations somewhere in the mountains beyond here. He wants you to go in, kill anyone and anything in your path, and report back here with proof of your success."


"Interesting, interesting...But what makes him think I'm qualified for such a job?


"You murdered half a city!"


"Oh yeah. Well then. I accept your offer! Shall we sign our contract in blood?"


"I'd prefer ink."


"Doesn't seem entirely legally binding to me...All right then, have it your way."


A few hours and a couple of dead bakers later, I packed my things, left Varanas, and was on my way to Ravenfell to start my epic journey! Also, I incinerated a crow because black is so last year.

So now we continue where I left off. Ravenfell. A beautiful coast with glistening blue waters, silky sand that stretches as far as the eye can see, crabs that have the most delicious of meat. And of course, a giant run down fortress that's since been occupied by a bunch of scum of the earth, raiding, pillaging, and plunderin, good for nothin murderous pirates. Sounds like my kind of party! Did I mention the giant sand scorpions with razor sharp claws and a penchant for death? This day is turning out to be fantastic!!

Where was I? Oh yes! I had just borrowed a few kegs of rum and was leaving the fortress when I spotted a man in the distance having a bit of a tarry with a scorpion. Why, It would be rude of me not to offer my condolences to the man's family from news of his untimely demise, so I decided to approach the youth and ask him his name. So I came up to the pair tangled in their struggle, dropped my kegs and stated, "yo."

The youth looked at me in surprise, more of a glare with that added twinge of, "what the bloody hell are you doin, get over here and help me fight!" look to his face. The giant sand scorpion seemed to have lost interest in the fellow, for it turned to me and loomed over my body like a giant stone guardian would a straw house.

"I wasn't talking to you, can't you see that me and the gentleman are trying to have a conversation before his life is snuffed from existence?"

The giant scorpion hissed and then lunged forward, dragging it's claws down my pauldrons, attempting to crush me with it's brute strength. The beast roared in confusion as it's claws stopped descending once they touched me. It apparently had never fought a ghost before.

Angrily, "I said!! Me and the Gentleman were HAVING a CONVERSATION!" My eyes glowed brightly, spewing flames from their sockets, fire snaked across my arm and coalesced in the palm of my hand. If there's one thing I hate, it's being interrupted! I grabbed both of the creatures arms and ripped them off, the smell of burning carapace and blood filled the air. I drew back my hand and blasted the scorpion full in the face with molten fire, melting the better half of it's torso before it collapsed in a steaming pile of offal.

"There, much better." I said, letting the fire in my eyes dim to soft embers. "Now, where were we? Ahh yess! What's your name, my good man and or madam?"

Still wary, the man, who was holding a strange lookin staff and wearing an intricate blue robe, lowered his stance and looked me in the eyes.

"The name's Tamun. Thanks for that by the way. I'm an ex-magic instructor for the Eye of Wisdom. Perhaps you've heard of them?"

"Hmm...Eye of Wisdom you say? Nope sorry, I'm afraid I don't remember the names of everyone I eat. Why not Eye of Destruction? or Eye of the Bodacious Ocelot That was Stabbed and Tortured Along the Beach? You could call it, EBOSTAB!"

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say, but thank you once again stranger."

"No problem my young man! Now to wait."

"Heh, I ain't exactly young, Been around fer nearly 67 years. Wish I still had some hair on my head to show for it though."

"I see. Well, when you hit 400, you let me know. Now, waiting."

"For what?"

"Your untimely demise."

I looked at the old man for several minutes and furrowed my brow. Then I looked at the smoking pile of scorpion. Then back at the old man. Then back at the scorpion.

"I see the problem now!" I leaned down and whispered to the scorpion. "I don't think he likes you."

"Hmm, well I'd love to stay and chat, but I have some business to attend to in the Weeping Coast."

"Weeping Coast eh? Funny story! I'm heading there myself!"

"Well excellent, we can travel there together then, if you don't mind."

I whispered to the scorpion, "Now's your chance boy, get him!" The corpse didn't budge. "Hmmm, I guess everyone could use a murder buddy every now and then." I concluded. "Besides, I don't think the locals sell plums to talking armor."

"Then let us head off, there is much work to do!"

So off we went, in a northerly direction along the coast, passing through the great Tiktaalik arch and into the swampy lowlands of the weeping coast. I sure hope the locals are friendly, I haven't eaten fish people in a long time!

"So there I was. I had just fended off horde after horde of legionnaires. When suddenly, out of the blue, I heard the earth shattering roar of Worr Binpike, the legendary giant minotaur in the distance. I readied my hammer, still standing on a mountain of corpses, feeling the ever encroaching numbers of the minotaur ranks swell around me. No chance of retreat, no option of surrender. But suddenly, when all hope seemed lost, I lept into the air, raised my hammer high above my head and..."

"Ghost!! When you're done talking to that crab, will you come help me douse the fire!"

I looked at Tamun, annoyed. "I'm beginning to think I don't like traveling with strangers." The miniature horseshoe crab blinked twice and then scurried off into the ocean. "You'll be back! You haven't even heard the tale of how I bested a goat in hand to hand combat!"

So off I went to douse the fires and help the old man pack his things. My help mostly involved a lot of carving 'Ghost Wuz Here' in the side of trees. It's important business being me.

Once he was set, we headed off through the marshy wilderness. It was a fairly quiet journey. I avoided stepping on a moss spider, Tamun ended up battling a handful of peaceful Tiktaalik warriors, a crazed woman, and some alligator shark things. Yep, a fairly quiet trek across the swamp. We eventually came across Boulderwind Village. I spotted a good number of children, young hunters, and the elderly.

"Oooh oooh, Tamun! How about I incinerate all the young ones, and you can take the older ones! Nowait, The elderly look so good when frozen solid. I'll take them too. But you can destroy the rest!"

"Oh Ghost, you're such a kidder. But seriously though, we should ask someone around here directions to the uplands."

"I...." I raised a finger in protest, but Tamun had already set out to talk to the locals. "Well, I guess there's a first time for everything." I felt a slight tug on my knee plate and looked down. A little girl seemed to have gotten attached to it somehow...

"Has anyone here lost a little girl? About yay high and with a delicious composure? Nobody? Going once...Going twice..."

The little girl looked up at me and smiled, "My name's Patwicia, daughter of da watabone mercant, but evwyone calls me Pat."

"My name is Ghostlord! Lord of the Undead, Destroyer of Worlds, Master of the Arcane Arts, Slayer of Dragons, Murderer of Melons, King of Bones, and Reaper of Souls! But everyone calls me, 'Please, not the Face.'

"You'we not a ghost, ghosts awe scawwy."

"I take it you've seen many ghosts in your time? The one's that shamble about with a translucent look to them? Still retaining the generic form of their body? Only having an aggro radius of 20 feet? Those ghosts? Pffft, those are more akin to rodents."

"I seen dem."

"Yes, and I see a meal that talks. WAIT!! WHADDYA MEAN I'M NOT SCARY!!

"Well I need to go, mommy wans me to help at da shop again today. Byyyeeee."

The little girl detached itself from my knee and ran off down the street. I was about to pursue when Tamun limped over to me a moment later.

"Well, I've got good news and bad news. It seems there was an interesting body that the villagers had found nearby. They needed my help to resuscitate it, for it seemed to have been in poor condition, but still alive. The bloody thing turned out to be a Naga! A half man, half snake creature. It attacked us and fatally wounded one of the villagers. It appears that the Tiktaalik have also turned violent all of the sudden and have been attacking anyone that enters the coast. What this means, I'm not sure. But on the other hand, we've been granted an audience with the King of Water, perhaps he will be able to point us in the right direction."

"Tamun! Buddy! I know you've had a fun time, but snap out of it! We have a serious breach of security! I'm apparently not scary! This is a disaster! Do you know what this could do to my reputation?"

"C'mon Ghost, pack your things and let's get moving, we have a king to see."

I was left to ponder as Tamun took off down the road towards the Throne of Water, where we would meet the elemental king himself.

"Wait a moment, I don't have things to pack. Why don't I have things?!"


Some time later, Tamun and I reached the Throne of Water. It was more of an enormous rock outcropping in the middle of a canyon, surrounded by a large pool of water that came crashing down from the myriad of waterfalls flowing from the upper eddies of the surrounding cliffs. A number of water elementals also roamed around the pool, no doubt guarding the throne from ill doers. Tamun approached the pool and flashed a blue medallion. The elementals eyed us warily, but let us pass unharmed. After crossing the front of the pool, we stopped in front of a glowing circle of runes carved in stone. A massive rumble shook the pool and a crashing torrent of water shot past us into the circle. The water formed an enormous being in front of us, slowly taking shape, with a cyclone silhouette appearing from its lower half, while a broad torso of rock and liquid formed; Eventually sprouting arms and a rather gravelly lookin head. When the transformation was complete, there stood the Lord of Water, an 80 foot high elemental with unparalleled power.

"It's best if I do the talking ghost. We must remain humble in his presence."

"Humble you say? I can do that!"

"Ghost..."

"Shepard."

The Lord of Water looked down upon us and said with a mighty boom, "Who dares summon Polython, King of the Water! Speak mortals! And be quick, for I have very little patience for your kind!" The air rumbled violently with each word.

"Oh great and mighty, Polython, we come before you on behalf of the village."

"We do?"

"Yes." Tamun muttered quickly.

"Well I didn't sign up for this!"

"Quiet!" He hissed. Then he directed his voice back to the Water King. "We wish to know why the Tiktaalik are attacking everyone and why you won't do anything about it."

"AHHH, them! I love those little guys! They treat me with such respect. They're so very nice. I even gave them a token of my gratitude called the Sound Shell. They value it more than life itself. Sadly, those despicable snakes stole it from them! They threaten to destroy it if the little ones do not do as they say! They've burrowed themselves deep within the Heart of the Ocean! If I could but break free of my seals, I would destroy every last one and show them the TRUE WRATH OF A GOD!!" The air shook violently as the King of the Water finished, grinding his words into a tempest that threatened to consume everything in reach.

"Please, stay your wrath Polython! Remember, we are not your enemies!"

"I'd like to interject on that point!" I replied. "I wanna see where he's going with this."

The thunderheads that had begun gathering overhead suddenly collapsed and dispersed. The air stopped shaking violently.

"I apologize puny ones. It's just that. Thinking about the little guys being harmed and used in such a way makes me sooo furious."

"Understandable. I once saw a bandit burn down an orphanage in front of me. And the worst part is, it was empty!! Who burns down and empty orphanage! It's bad enough that he wanted to steal my lunch, but he burned the picnic basket before it was packed! The nerve of some people."

"You two seem to be concerned about the little ones, so I shall entrust you with what I myself cannot achieve. Take my blessing, enter the Heart of the Ocean, and destroy the foul beasts that dwell within!"

"We shall do just that oh mighty Polython."

Pleased, Polython's visage shimmered momentarily before sinking back into the pool.

"Once again, I'd like to point out that I did not sign up for this."

"Not to worry Ghostlord, I will deal with the naga infestation. I have some friends around that can help me. You should go your seperate way."

"I like the way you think! Then it's off to find the...uhh...hmmm...Well it'll come back to me."

"Farewell Ghost, perhaps we shall meet again."

As Tamun limped off, I couldn't help but feel that I should toss a fireball at him, or at the very least send a current of lightning shooting through his skull. Ahh well, courtesies can wait I suppose. Now where was I? Right! Onwards through the highlands of the coast and into whatever lies beyond. It'll be a long road and one can hope that it will be absolutely riddled with bodies!!

'Thwooom!' A mostly lovely sound is it not? Almost second to 'Fwoosh' or 'Fizzt' or 'Boom.' A sound akin to a flaming ball of fire crashing pleasantly against an armored soldier. A 'Fizzt' is lovely for the satisfaction of your fire melting the flesh from the bones of your unwary prey. 'Boom' is quite self explanatory, for it signifies the soft thrum of a cradling explosion gently lifting the environment around the epicenter of an impact. And 'Fwoosh' is that lovely sound that you hear as your flames rush past the wind, engulfing, writhing, twisting, and burning as it travels its path.

"And that leads me to the next part of my story! Have you all heard of the Damsel of Dimarka? No? Then I have a tale for you! Gather round and listen to what I have to say!"

I seem to have forgotten to explain myself. Very well. So after I had left the Weeping Coast, I found myself in an area called the Savage Lands. A bit of a misnomer, for the lands are far from savage. In fact, I'm currently king of this little Bodo tribe that I happened across. How did this happen? Something about a rival clan and a boar, some snake people, a guy with a lantern that could shoot green embers. The usual. And what is a Bodo you ask? Well! They're like little goblins mixed with an imp, with short curvy faces, long down sloped ears that remind you of a rabbit, and an aversion for clothing! Some might call them less than intelligent but I'd like to call them situationally aware! Just like when I see a strange situation, usually involving a bull mauling a farmhand, become aware of the problem, and watch as it unfolds.

So anyways, here I am, wearing a circlet of bones and raven feathers, sitting upon a beautiful patchwork throne, probably made from rival Bodo bones. Also, don't ask me how you wear a circlet over a helmet, it's just awkward to explain. My newfound people cling to my every word, follow my every command! All I ask in return? A good laugh and the occasional declaration of war and mass slaughter. And, to fit with the theme, I've also painted white tribal stripes over my armor. I look fantastic!


Now, I was halfway through my story, Bodo's lined up all around me, when a Bodo that I like to call Fwippy came runnin in from across the village bridge. He stopped in front of me and started talking quite animatedly. I couldn't help but laugh, these guys could really tell a joke. What kind of joke? Well, I guess you just had to be there to see the lip language. I laughed for a tad bit longer until I finally decided I had had enough. I waved my hand and Fwippy was silent. Still, Fwippy continued to point back in the direction of the bridge. A couple minutes later and it all made sense.

"Ahh, we have guests. Everyone! Ready your happy faces! Raise your spears in welcome! Feel free to make a friendly jab in good spirits! Not too lightly now, a firm jab means you're a strong Bodo!"

The figures in the distance soon took shape, one of them I recognized, the rest I did not.

"Is that...Tamun! Tamun my old friend! How've you been? Did the Coast treat you well? Come, sit! Have a drink with me. Krag'wak, roast us up a boar, the man must be starving!"

The troupe stopped their advance before my throne, my little Bodos still pointing spears at them. Tamun and two others looked fine, except for the oddly shaped iron shackles around their wrists. The other seven members of the party were dressed in fancy plate armor marked with the sigil of The Order of Dark Glory mercenaries. Odd, there aren't any prison camps out here. In fact, now that I think about it, The Order doesn't take prisoners to anywhere but south, to their stronghold. Perhaps they were lost?

"And the rest of you fine gentleman and ma'am." For one of the prisoners was unmistakably female. "What can I do for you? I've got some Nagaskin coats I just made last night! They're woven entirely out of fangs and venom glands! With the venom still in them! They're a deadly comfort, I can assure you!"

The mercenary at the head of the procession stopped and eyed me cautiously. "We are on official Order of Dark Glory business. We are to escort these prisoners to Aotulia Volcano for a summary execution. Could you tell your little...things to stand down."

The other male prisoner looked at me and tried to speak, but no words came out. In fact, Tamun hadn't returned my greetings. Odd, for the fellow was generally so chatty. I looked again, and saw the man was trying to mouth something until one of the soldiers thwacked him on the chest with the pommel of his sword. Now, I'm no accomplished magematicion, but I know a silence spell when I see one. And these prisoners were most certainly silenced.

"My dear Order members. It has come to my attention, that you all suck! You've approached your king without offering any sort of tribute! Where are the manners in that I say? Does that sound right to you members of clan GlickyGlicky?"

The Bodos all raised the spears and shouted "Oonpha GlickyGlicky!"

"Now, since you haven't offered any sort of substantial compensation, I'll take those prisoners off your hands and you can be on your way!"

The Order members looked at each and drew their swords. "You dare threaten the Order, you savage king of nothing! Don't make us destroy you!"

"Now now, if you were true members of the Order, you wouldn't have even stopped to bat an eye at me and my people during our celebrations! You wouldn't have even stopped to talk. Secondly, the Order does not recruit magic users into it's fold. And since I don't see any Eye of Wisdom mages with you, save for dear Tamun here, then I must conclude, that you are all not whom you appear to be. And lastly, I know that smell from anywhere. That's myrmex poison. There's only one group of people that use that. You are Zurhidon!"

The Order captain looked to his men and hissed. They all hissed back. Within moments, all of the Order soldiers had contorted and morphed into their true forms. Their skin was blackened as if by some dark magic, each one looked emaciated as if death had nearly claimed them but then forgot to finish the job. Their robes were a mix of light green and purple, tattered at the edges, giving the tails and fringes the appearance of daggers. Each of them wore a hood over their charred heads and carried a dark, pulsating staff.

The lead Zurhidon produced a flask from a pouch and lifted it in front of his eyes. A sickening green, viscous liquid was contained inside. He looked at me once more and spoke, this time stretching each word as if his tongue were scraping over brick.

"Annnnd noooww, ssssssinnccccceee you insssssissssted on haamperring our progresssss. You will die witthh the resssssst of theem!"

I stood from my throne and pointed to the lead Zurhidon. "Clan GlickyGlicky...Kill them." All of my Bodos shouted in unison "Aphastakar! Apahstakar!" They then lunged forward with their spears. Most of their spears swerved away from the Zurhidon mere inches before contact, but some of them made it through, scratching and injuring some of them. 2 of the Zurhidon crumpled to the ground while the rest backed into a tight group. They were using runic shields. An invisible barrier of energy that could absorb a certain amount of physical trauma, depending upon the strength of the runes applied to the gear. The lead Zurhidon threw his flask at a charging group of Bodo. It shattered on the ground and exploded, spewing a caustic gas. I eyed the still silenced prisoners and quickly raised my arm. Chains of light shot out from my hand, entwining around them. I then yanked them back towards me before the gas could reach them.

The leader snickered, "Yourr tricckssss won't sssssave you, daark oone."

The gas quickly dispersed, and instead of a pile of dead Bodos as he expected, there stood a very angry group of Bodos, lunging forward with renewed vigor. As they attempted to whittle down the energy shields, I saw a Zurhidon chanting something in the back of the group.

"Uglumuk, spear!" The young Bodo complied and tossed me his spear. I aimed it like a javelin and launched it full force at the Zurhidon that was casting his spell. Unphased, they did nothing to stop it. Before the spear landed against their shields, I reached out my hand and twisted a deep well of energy around the spear. I embued it with fire and highly focused photon energy. My eyes raged like an inferno as I poured more energy into the weapon. The spear glowed with an unnatural golden light as tongues of golden flame licked the haft, wrapping around the weapon with uncontrolled power. The spear hurdled 30 yards, 40, 50. It reached the Zurhidon group. The leader attempted to block the glowing projectile with a barrier. His hand raised up high in front of the spear's path. The spear stopped momentarily mere inches from his hand and then a loud 'crack' followed by a sickening 'snick' sound as the barrier broke and the spear ripped right through the Zurhidon's hand, engulfed another in flames, and traveled straight through the spellcaster in the back. The weapon shattered as it hit the ground and showered some of the Zurhidon with sharp fragments of light, what I like to call Lightsicles.

"Now that's what I call a Light Energy Weapon!"

Once the Zurhidon in the back had died, the prisoners seemed to regain their composure and joined the fray. The unknown man charged forward, pummeling one of the injured Zurhidon warriors and began slashing at him with a blade he had picked up. The woman seemed to have found her weapons for she lept in after the man, swinging gracefully with her two daggers in hand. Striking viciously but precisely, engaging both Zurhidon warriors at once, dancing between the two while she kept the man from becoming minced from their unholy staff blows. The fight was over quickly then, both Zurhidon fell within seconds of the engagement, their lifeless bodies toppling to the ground. The leader, now with one hand was currently being engaged by Tamun. The old man fought tooth and nail, cracking furiously at the Zurhidon with his staff, trading blow for blow. The cloaked leader, to his credit fought just as ferociously, even with his injuries. At last though, the injured Zurhidon started to give ground as his fatigue set in. Tamun saw his opening and pressed the advantage. Sensing that he was near defeat, the Zurhidon planted his staff in the ground and shot a tendril of dark energy out at Tamun. The old man just as quickly planted his staff and released a bolt of crackling blue flame. The two then attacked each other's minds as they were locked with magic. Their brows furrowed and sweat poured down their foreheads. A vein bulged on the elderly mage as he struggled to maintain his focus. The Zurhidon's face was contorted with rage as the battle of wits ensued. His face became red and his breathing labored. Suddenly his concentration wavered and his eyed snapped back.

"NOOO!!" he screamed as the blue flames rushed over his body, extinguishing the life that it had once contained. A moment later and nothing but blackened soot remained of the Zurhidon leader.

Exhausted, Tamun collapsed to the ground.

"Bozfog, Uyorlug! Help that man up! Bring a shaman to my tent! Also bring me some daffodils, I just figured out what would look good on the Naga Coats! And you two!" I pointed at the man and the woman, "help Clan GlickyGlicky clean up this mess and then find yourself a place to rest."



Quite the day if I do say so myself. Dark soon approached and I was just about to sit upon my eagle throne (It's like a crow's nest, except without the ship, and with a throne instead of a wooden bucket) to view the beautifully deadly landscape when Fwippy came a'shoutin again. I looked upon the horizon and saw a line of snakes...no snake people.

"Well at this point, the only thing that would make this day better would a be volcanic eruption from the distant mountains."

Not too far off, I heard the sound of warhorns and drumbeats rolling up behind my village.

I love this day!

A noble sentiment my friend, but how can I know that you're not the liar and are instead attempting to dupe me!

I'm telling you, it was most certainly the small one that did it!

Well that doesn't make any sense at all?

Of course, so therefore you are the pellar, and that makes you the liar!

You cannot prove that I am lying until you've proven yourself against the mighty Snail of Unlying Truths!

I think you're lying about the snail.

Feast your eyes upon the snail!!

I scanned the area for the snail, but could not find it.

"That's your line, Snail of Truths!" Still, the snail was nowhere to be seen.

"Hmmmmm..."

Aha! I knew it, you're the liar! There is no snail!

The snail was here! Do not question the snail!

"Ghostlord!!" I heard from the village. Ack... Can't a ghost get a little down time! "Ghostlord!" This time the voice was standing beside me. Perhaps if I turn my head there will only be a voice. What does a voice look like I wonder? So I turned my head and much to my dismay, there was a body attached to it. Why is there always a body?

"Ghost! What in the name of all that is holy, are you doing?! Why are you wearing two Naga on your hands?"

"I'm playing liars dice. Where you prove who the liar is, and dice them up like a roast fish!"

"Get those disgusting corpses off your hands and get back to the village, Tamun is finally awake." The man strode off towards the huts.

"This is why I can't have nice things. As for you Mr. Snail," I plucked the snail up off my boot, "we all know that it is you who are the liar, and we're okay with that." I tossed the two Naga in the grass and set them alight with a small blaze. "The liar always wins!"

Snail: Do not question the snail.

I strode up to the huts just in time to see the feisty old codger up and about, grabbing scrolls and ink, and is that a Hortek Leech? I want one... I also noticed that the rest of the party was all gathered round a map. Why don't I have a map? I miss having things. Tamun looked up from his work and greeted me.

"Ahh Ghost, good to see you. I told you we'd meet again!"

"Sup Tamun." I moved to his ear and whispered "Between you and I, I think we should incinerate the extra baggage before it grows legs and starts talking. You swing high and I'll watch. Quickly Tamun! One of them already has a body attached to its voice!"

"Oh ghost, they're not baggage, they're friends. And of course they have legs and can talk."

"Then we're too late! The baggage has become the master! Run for your life before the knapsack grows teeth!"

"Here, let me introduce them. The big fellow over there wearing real Order of Dark Glory armor is Pwnager, son of Stone-ager, whom you may know already. His brother is the mighty dwarven smith Stoneforger, who has a cousin that fancies himself some war hero or whatnot. Stoneforge is that man's name. Pwnager is a knight of great reknown! He fought with the Order for 30 years, almost since he was a lad."

"Wait a minute! So he's a dwarf?"

"No, he's a half dwarf, his mother was a woman from Logar."

I sniffed, "Dwarves can't be knights." Then a thought occured. "Wait! So if he's half dwarf, then that means he's a half man? And since he's a knight that's also half a dwarf, that would make him a dwight? But dwarves are champions, so he's really a large dwarven half-man knight that's a champion of the people?"

"..........I guess?"

I peered at Tamun very closely. "Don't make me get the snail." The man named Pwnager walked over and clapped a hand onto my left pauldron. He was suited up in full with a set of Order armor; a thick, bulky platemail that is nearly impossible to wedge a sword through. His helmet was of Order design; a towering helmet with small adornments of the citadel forged along the sides, giving it the appearance of wings. The man was extremely large, nearly six and a half feet tall, with bulky shoulders and thick arms. His legs were smaller by comparison, but not enough to take away from his large demeanor. If he were a foot taller, he would probably bypass me in height.

"Seems you and I have the same armor, friend. I think we'll get along great. Though I'm not sure about the helmet. Seems like a safety hazard with those glowing eye things."

"Great for staring contests. You'd be surprised by how many people burst into flames after staring at you for extended periods of time. Care to try? I haven't lost one yet!"

"Maybe another time, those eyes are a bit too bright to look at."

"Fiiiiiiinee."

"And this here," Tamun waved a hand at the elven woman, "this here is Ethari; accomplished thief and an experienced close combat fighter. She is a rogue, but unlike most, she is not an assassin for hire. Though she has stolen many a golden trinket, she has also stolen many hearts along the way.

"I've stolen hearts! Sometimes while they were still beating!"

Ethari was an elf of exquisite beauty, or so I assume. I'm dead. I'm also the narrator! She was of a smaller stature to her companion, standing at little more than five and a half feet tall. She had a trim frame, neither petite, nor muscular, but somewhere in between. She wore a light, form fitting, elven jerkin over her torso with a slim tunic underneath. It was sleeveless, save for a pair of straps that ran down her bare arms from the shoulders that eventually connected at the wrist to a pair of long, fingerless gloves. Her outfit was complimented by a pair of leather pants of the same elven material, delicately extending to a pair of travel worn boots with elegant patterns stamped into the sides. Two daggers hung from her slender hips, each one nestled in a leather sheath with it's own runic symbols etched into them with care. Her outfit was a patchwork coloration of brown and cyan, though it was the latter that matched her look the most.

Her hair itself was a lightly saturated cyan. It splayed down the side and back of her head in perfectly thin strands that shone with a silky texture, stopping slightly below her thinly pointed ears. Her bangs were brushed lightly to the side of her forehead with a few short locks on either side that curved inwards alongside her face, stopping partway above an angled chin. Her nose was small and delicately pointed, much like her ears. Below, her petite mouth with innocent lips of a light rose coloration threatened to twist into a deadly smile at the slightest hint of provocation. Most captivating of all were her eyes. Small ovals set at a downward angle with a minor slant to their shape, filled with shining, pale blue eyes that sat below thin brows, each angled inwardly for a hawk-like gaze.

Overall, she was a sight of both beauty and danger. A fox with the fangs of a viper. I do so like vipers. They cause so many problems and solve so little! The perfect house pet!

She strode over to me and eyed me cautiously. She studied my...face? Helmet face? Armor face? for a few minutes before heading back over to peer at the map once more.

Tamun looked at me and shrugged. "She doesn't say much, but she's the most reliable ally you can have. Now! Thank you once again for your help Ghost. I was wondering if I could trouble you once again with a bit of a journey."

"Journey you say?"

"Indeed, we will be heading into the mountains beyond here, to a place called the Aotulia Volcano. We have heard tell of a strong Naga presence there and believe it to be a base of operations for the Zurhidon. The roads will be perilous, the Naga will be dug in, and the foes we meet will be extremely dangerous. Will you join us?"

"Hmmmm...ok, but on one condition."

"What's that?"

I grabbed a bundle of light purple cloth and flesh. "Can I bring my new friend? I call him Limpy, the one eyed mage! He doesn't eat much, I swear!" It was one of the Zurhidon corpses from earlier.

The elf Ethari grinned, and a slight laugh with a musical trill escaped her lips. Tamun looked at her curiously. She shook her head and made her way out of the hut.

"Excellent, it's settled then! Let us head off to the Aotulia Volcano!" With that, Tamun began packing his things with help from the half-dwarf man.

"Was that a yes for Limpy?" I asked. The Snail of Unlying Truths appeared on my shoulder and gazed forward ominously.

Snail: Do not question the snail.

"I'm telling you, conventional means will work, all we need is..."

FWOOM!!

"Ghost! Will you please stop doing that!"

I looked at Tamun questioningly.

"Thank you. Now I believe that the only way to..."

FWOOM!!

"GHOST!!"

I looked at Tamun questioningly.

"Do you absolutely insist on bringing down the whole mountain!"

"Oooh, is that an option?"

"No! But if you don't stop, it might as well be!"

"Well why didn't you say so?"

FWOOM!

"Stop attacking the barrier and go kill some bunnies or something!"

I raised a finger in objection but the old man appeared quite adamant.

"Bunnies it is then!" I took off after something with large ears.

"How does he ever get anything accomplished..." grumbled Tamun. Now without further distraction, Tamun began casting spells so that he might discover the inner workings of this transparent barrier before us. It appeared that the only way to the volcano was through this crumbled arch in the Savage Lands.

Meanwhile in Ghost land! I managed to catch the bunny and put it in a jar! Jar pets are the best! So now that I caught myself a new pet, I was contemplating throwing more exploding balls of fire at Tamun. It's too bad the barrier kept getting in the way. I think he would absolutely love a game of dodgefire! Well, time to head on back and roast me a rabbit! I had taken a few steps when a rather scantily clad Oak Spirit sauntered on up to me and poked me in the side. I furrowed my brow. This Spirit was bold...too bold...I hooked my arm around the Spirit and raised a hand up towards the sky. "We're gonna get along great!"

That's when the elf showed up. An impressively tall elf at that, I do believe his nose and my nose were quite at odds with one another at this height. Quite at odds? A strange term. Though it is possible our noses didn't like each other and had some unfinished business to attend to. I would have to sneeze in his general direction to confirm. So the elf, with massively beautiful axe in tow, strode up to me and the Oak Spirit. The head of his axe probably spanned his entire torso length. A good 2 or 3 feet by my reckoning. The head was rounded from the back of the haft up, until it curved back down upon itself. At that point, the axe sported sharp grooves that looked like teeth that extended back to the base of the haft. I believe they call that axe an Iron Wheel. Extraordinary crafsmanship and murder power.

The elf himself looked much like his weapon. He was a sharp fellow, clean shaven and fair of skin. His head had that telltale elven angle to it, that slight tilt to the eyes, and a hard look to his face. This elf sported a deep set of emerald green eyes and some bushy brows. His hair fell wildly behind his shoulders. He was wearing an exquisite set of chainmail armor with elven runes carved along each piece. This man was a warden. A very old warden at that. This must have been his Oak Spirit Guardian.

"Greetings oh green one! Your face truly reminds me of that elk I had once tried to ride off a cliff but ultimately fell to its death because it didn't know how to sprout wings!"

The elf lowered an eyebrow and gave me a warning look. He then spoke in a voice that reminded me of a very large tree creaking upon the wind. "It is you that are most green around the gills! Your face reminds me of a Janost boar that's smashed itself against a willow one too many times."

I furrowed my nonexistant brow and stared at the elf. The elf did the same with me, except he had a brow to furrow. His oak just sorta stood there and gave me a funny look. We stared at each other for a good few minutes, until at last I had to conclude. I don't hate this man! I stretched out my arms and set them alight with a golden fire. "Greetings again! I am known as Ghostlord, Lord of the Ghosts, Reaper of Souls, and various titles. Your manners are most impeccable and I am impressed at how well spoken you are!"

The elf relaxed and likewise greeted me in response. "I am Pada! Pada The Great! The manliest of elven men that you'll ever have the pleasure to lay eyes on. Just look at these muscles! They're absolutely rippling with raw manlyness. You are lucky to have stumbled upon one who is so manly, for you are looking at greatness itself! Let us slay that moose over yonder to celebrate our newfound manlyness!" Pada strode off in the direction of the moose, with his oak close behind. I really don't hate this guy!

A few dead woodland creatures later and we found ourselves quickly approaching the barrier where I had parked my friends. They seemed stumped with their magical wall problem still. We strode over to them and like all wise individuals, I proceeded to greet Tamun with the only way I knew how.

FWOOM!!

"Ghost!! I thought I told you to go chase some bunnies or something!"

I held up the jar with the bunny in it. "I did, see this little guy? I like to call him Flakey the Grey."

Tamun looked at the jar and then straight at me. "What in blazes is that thing? It looks like a bearded elephant! How did you put an elephant in a jar?! Why did you put an elephant in a jar?!"

"Well I can see that the grey bunny has offended you, so I shall stuff him back in my Knapsack of Doom."

"And who is this that you've found?" he asked with a more polite tone to his voice.

"My oldest and dearest friend since the great moose culling of 3 minutes ago."

"I am Pada! Pada the Great!! Bow before my epic manhood! You are staring at the embodiment of brilliance itself! Don't be alarmed! Feel free to kiss my muscles for good luck! Go on, feel the power! Feeeel iittt!!"

Tamun gave a hopeless look before letting his shoulders sag. "Ghost, I don't even... Listen, Pada is it?"

"The Great!"

"Pada the Great, you wouldn't happen to have some insight as to how one could deactivate this magical barrier, would you?"

"But of course, one as amazing as I knows all the inner workings of everything! All you must simply do is backtrack to the Hall of Survivors, pass the trials within and deactive the magic core that keeps all this ancient technology running! It's just that simple!"

"Hmmm..." Tamun looked at me. I grabbed a butterfly. He looked at his feet. I stepped on a small animal. Tamun then looked at Pada the Great. Pada had a woman on his shoulder. Tamun looked back at his feet. I threw a ball of molten fire at a fairy in the distance. Tamun then looked back to Pada. The woman had transformed into a boulder.

"Alright..." He concluded. "I have heard tales of this Hall. And though I do not wish to tarry from our task, it seems it must be done. If the rumors are to be believed, this Hall is dangerous. Extremely dangerous. We will need to prepare ourselves before setting out and could use an expert..." Tamun looked at me. I was being attacked by a horde of swallows. "An expert in the field of runic magic so that we do not fall prey to the place's machinations. Will you join us Pada?"

Pada the Great stood there for a moment, pondering the question, weighing each word's significance. At last, he broke his silence.

"The mighty Pada shall join you, but on one condition!"

"Name it."

"I want a harpy feather hat."

"Oh! That will look lovely with one of my Nagaskin Coats!"

Have you ever paused to consider why you're here? What exactly are you here for? What is your purpose? What drives you to continue your existence? To what end do you hope to achieve your goals? How many bodies will there be along the way? These are questions that I ponder deeply, questions that weigh upon my mind as heavily as a downpour weighs upon a farmer during a wet season. Why are you here? Do you consider each effect to have an after effect that changes lives in untold ways? Effects that cause a ripple so great, that not even the sea of time can withstand the colossal tidal wave that you've created? Or do you consider your actions to be inconsequential? Why are you here I ask again? Why?

The statue did not answer back. The statue never answers back. A hand appeared on my shoulder and an elderly voice whispered, rather angrily at that, "Ghost....You've been staring at that ancient dwarven statue for the past...3...hours! Are you ready to enter the Hall of Survivors yet?"

"Are you my conscience? Are you here to work out my inner philosophical disputes? Are you here to answer my untold questions to very unwise people?" Tamun blinked and hoisted his staff above his head, bringing it down hard upon my foot.

"Owww! What was that for? Oh. Heya Tamun!! Are we there yet?"

"We've been here for hours now Ghost...You were supposed to be deciphering the locks to the magical portal that will lead us inside! What, for the love of God, have you been DOING this entire time!!"

I looked up at the statue and then back down the hallway, towards the Hall of Survivor's entrance. "Lock eh?" I then strode off in the direction of the door.

Tamun blinked hard again before muttering to himself. "What the f...."

As I neared the entrance, I glanced back and saw Tamun approach Pada, who was likewise staring at a statue across the room, pondering over its secrets. I heard Tamun say something over the distance and Pada answer. "Are you my conscience? Are you here to wo...." Followed by an ear splitting roar of anger from the old man and a staff hitting a foot. I wonder what riled him up?

So, many moments later, followed by many untold horrors, dark happenings, and killer tadpoles, I reached the entrance to the Hall. There it stood, a towering door (or door outline) set in a stone wall. Runes were carved into the wall, pulsing with a dim light, awaiting a spell or series of events so that they may reveal their secrets. The entrance to the Hall of Survivors was contained within a colossal forward corridor from within a mountain, just north of Varanas. This corridor, spanned nearly a quarter of a mile deep into the mountain. It was a long, straight structure that rose up nearly 200 feet, where the ceiling was nearly hidden from view. A walkway was built over a cavernous drop that seemed to have no bottom, for I threw a young bankteller down there a while ago and I could hear his screams for several minutes before he was out of earshot. The walls parallel to the walkway contained great arches that housed the enormous statues that rose up into the ceiling. The statues were impossible to reach unless you could fly.

So anyways, I rolled up my nonexistant sleeves and was about to Fwoom the door open when I was assaulted, or perhaps it was insulted, by a rather strangely clothed man.

"Oye! Whaddya think yer doin!? Step away from the Hall ye bat toothed, bog licking, man stuffer!" Aha! Insulted, that's what it was.

I raised my hand towards the tiny man and set it alight with a bright flame. However, I was interrupted by the rest of the party as it approached the Hall. Pwnager looked at the both of us before slapping his side and shouting, "Oye Ghost! You've either caught yourself the stoutest child I've ever seen, or else that's one big hunker of a dwarf!"

The dwarf, for it was most definately a dwarf but...largish turned to the rest of the group and shouted his earlier warning. "Stay away from the Hall! All of ye! Ye've got no right bein here!"

Being as I was the voice of reason and an excellent negotiator, I motioned to Pada and asked, "Pada, would you like to do the honors?"

Pada hoisted the axe from the clasp on his back and brought it to bear in front of him. "Gladly." Before he could take more than a few steps, Tamun rushed forward and began doing his funky, non violent thingymapproach again.

"Greetings Master Dwarf, we mean you no harm or insult. My companions and I are here looking to enter the Hall of Survivors so that we may..."

"Nobody enters the Hall!! You'd only befoul it, desecrate it with your presence and loot it of all me ancestors ancient treasures!" Ethari looked at the dwarf with a bit of a gleam in her eye at that last statement.

Tamun held his ground, "As I was saying, we are trying to enter the Hall, so that we may deactive the ancient devices within. It's because of them that we cannot reach our destination. There's a strong power in this place that needs to be dealt with if my companions and I are to continue on our journey."

The dwarf eyed Tamun suspiciously for a while before speaking again. At last, "Hold out your hand." Tamun hesitated and did as the dwarf said. The dwarf took his hand and a link of dark magic bound the two together momentarily. The dwarf severed the link quickly and his expression softened. "Well, it seems that what ye say is true. Thought I cannot say the same about your 'friends'." He motioned at the rest of us. I waved back.

"They are of the same mind as me, I swear it." Tamun looked back and saw Pada and me playing dodge the axe. "Well...most of them..."

"Hmm...I guess you all seem trustworthy enough. You haven't tried to stab me yet, so that's one better than most adventurers."

"I'd like to interject on that point!"

"And I could use some help meself. The name's Bouldershoulder by the way. Warlock."

"Tamun, and this here is Ghostlord, Pada the Great, Ethari, and Pwnager."

"A mage, a warden, two knights, and a rogue. Quite the odd group you've got."

"So does that mean you'll help us gain entrance to the Hall?"

BoulderShoulder raised his bushy eyebrows before speaking again. "Gaining entrance isn't the problem, it's passing the tests that lie within that be the hard part." He moved over to the runic lock conceiling the entrance. "I've been studying this hall for years in the hopes of one day reliving the trials of my ancestors. I can't say my knowledge is complete, but it should be enough..." The warlock touched one of the runes etched into the wall and whispered something alien. A sharp 'click' emanated from the other side and the wall split down the middle before folding horizontally, sliding into some unknown pocket set within the other part of the wall.

"Now, if we're to do this, we will do this by me rules and only me rules. That means, anything I say goes. You will follow my every step and do exactly as I tell you to, got it?"

"I'd like to know what would happen if one of us, say, Pada for example were to not quite dwell upon one such rule."

"Something akin to this, but far worse will happen." Boulder raised his arms and shot a torrent of black energy towards Pada. In an instant, he was engulfed in a shadowy cloud that fizzled and popped. Once it cleared, where Pada once stood, was a chicken. I strode forward and picked up the chicken that was being carefully guarded by the Oak Spirit.

"Pada! You've lost weight! And those feathers! I feel so out of fashion with this reinforced steel. Quick, teach me yours ways and we can be as regal as queens!"

Boulder lowered an eyebrow and pulled Tamun down to his level. "Errmm, is he always like this?"

Tamun sighed and shook his head, "I'm afraid so. But he comes through for us...in a fashion." Boulder nodded and released Tamun.

"Well, let us be off then. The Hall of Survivors is not to be taken lightly. If we are to do this, then we must do it with a clear mind and a strong hammer." Boulder took off through the hulking arch and proceeded deep into the Hall. Tamun and the rest followed while I tucked the chicken under my arm. The Oak Spirit followed me dangerously close the entire time.

One can't help but simply marvel at the beauty of this place. I looked back towards the entrance hall and gazed upwards. Hundreds of years, unblemished stone and magical works, beautifully carved and sculped with the most skilled craftmanship I've ever seen. I simply can't wait to blow it all up!

He's so big. I've never seen a man quite as large as him. I mean look at the size of that thing! He's packin more heat than a desert drought! I've never seen a dwarf put men to shame like that. Why aren't mine that big?

Bouldershoulder peered back over his shoulder and shot me a look. "Ghost, why do you keep looking at me like that. It is rather unnerving."

"I couldn't help but marvel at the size of your shoulders. They're quite massive. I mean I've seen some shoulders in my time, but look at those guns!" Boulder was impressively built for a dwarf. The man was was nearly as tall as Ethari but with the short bodily proportions that is indicative of his race. The one thing that really stood out though were his shoulders. He was aptly named, for his shoulders truly were the size of boulders. The warlock wore a simple cloth robe over his body. It was a ruddy grey marred with the wear and tear of age. The robe conceiled all but the dwarve's impressive arms. His muscles were thick and corded, bulging outwards so much, that he had to cut the sleeves from his garment in order to fit it over the rest of his body. The robe seemed tight about the chest, but some alterations to the fabric allowed the cloth to flow seamlessly over the distance without putting a strain on the wearer. His head was also conceiled with a hood of the same material. The hood had dwarven marks woven into the fabric with a golden lace. It was shallow and fit snugly over the head, only reveiling the warlock's ice purple eyes.

Not even the Ghostlings could compare to this particular dwarf. However, now that I think about it, the Ghostlings weren't designed for size. But enough of that, there are things to destroy!

"Comes from lifting enormous tomes your entire life." Boulder responded. "Some warlocks study from a master, some do field work, and others move massive tomes about so much that you end up looking like a blacksmith on strong stims. Now come, we're about to truly enter the fray."

So here we are, the Hall of Survivors. A cavernous series of winding hallways built with the finest stonework of the ages. We had been walking for nearly a half an hour through the network of corridors before we came upon our first bit of action. So far, the entire Hall appeared as it did from the outside. The ceiling rose up so high that it was barely visible from below and the entire structure was carved out in a dramatically large display so that it looked as if giants once lived here. But anyways, we at last arrived at a small juncture with a bridge spanning to the left. It was across this bridge that Boulder indicated was our destination. This bridge spanned several hundred feet across a darkened chasm, where at the bottom, a bright display of light simmered and boiled.

Pwnager whistled, "Woah buddy, that's quite the drop!"

"Molten rock." Boulder motioned below. "I'd advise ye watch yer step once we begin." We had all stepped onto the very edge of the bridge when Boulder had us stop. At the very end of the bridge we noticed an extremely large statue that looked like a half man, half horse covered in a thick plated armor. It held an impressive lance out from its body in a threatening position. Behind it was a door that was closed off. Before anybody could do so, I called dibs on the manhorse's pointy spear stick. I got many an annoyed look.

"What? Don't you all know the dibs rule? It's like calling shotgun for a vehicle, only instead of riding up front, you get the right to loot said item off of said dib-called-creature's corpse!"

Tamun whispered to Pwnager, "What's a dib?"

Pwnager whispered back, "What's a shotgun?"

Pada clucked, "Where am I?"

I stared suspiciously at Pada. "Chickens can't talk..."

"Bagawk?"

"That's better!"

"Ok, now we are officially ready to begin the assault on the Hall of Survivors. There are trials inside that we must pass. Each trial will test our strength, intelligence, and teamwork. These tasks will be daunting, but if we work together, I'm sure we can make it through this in one piece."

Boulder shifted slightly before continuing. "Now, here we stand at the Bridge of Courage. It is here that the Hall of Survivors truly begins. Once we start, there will be no turning back. Is everyone clear." Nobody objected. Pada made a chicken noise.

"Alright, now let me explain what to expect once we start. Within these halls lie seven trials. The trials are straightforward enough. We must defeat each of the runic constructs that dwell within these halls. Andriol, Glamo, Guldamor, Vrantal, Zygro, Sydaphex, and Andaphelmor. Though simple in nature, each construct is designed to test different aspects of teamwork. These trials were originally designed to weed out the unworthy so that only true heroes would ever be able to progress. We must be smarter than the system and use our collective resources to overcome what is ahead of us."

Tamun examined the ancient dwarven construct up and down. "Do you know how to defeat each of these beings Boulder?" He inquired.

Boulder raised his hand to his chin and thought for a moment. "I know the exact details for three of them and I know vaguely what is needed for two others. However..." His shoulders sagged slightly. "I'm afraid I know nothing of the last two."

Tamun thought seriously for several minutes. The hall was silent save for the soft clucking of Pada every so often during this time. At last, Tamun shifted his weight and looked at Boulder intensely. "I suppose we can chance it. The hall may even reveal more of its secrets along the way...We will however need help."

Boulder shot Tamun a very calculating look. "You don't mean.."

"I do." Tamun replied.

"Do you think they are prepared to delve into a world of magic? Do you trust them enough to make good use of this knowledge? Do you think they are ready?"

Tamun looked back at us. Ethari looked bound determined to do whatever it took. Pwnager was likewise unwavering in his stance. Pada strutted around like he owned the place. I was hanging from the ceiling, upside-down. I'm a bat!!

Tamun nodded. "Show them the Runes Boulder."

Boulder unclasped a small pouch from the side of his belt. "Here, each of you take one of these runes." All of us were handed a rune from the dwarf, though he gave us all different types. Pwnager had a yellow rune, Ethari teal, Tamun red, Pada the chicken a green.

"Now, I'm sure Tamun here knows how runes work," Tamun nodded, "the rest of you however, will most likely need an explanation."

"I broke my rune." I interjected.

"You haven't been issued a rune, Ghost."

"I'd like a second opinion!"

"Now, each of you have been handed a rune according to your style of combat. These are basic runes that apply to your profession. Ethari is a rogue, so she has a rune that enhances her quick striking, dodging, and weak spot attack perception. Pwnager, you are a knight, ergo, you have been given a rune that enhances your strength, toughness, ability to resist damage, and overall survivability. These are just a few examples of how runes function. Oh yes, I forgot Pada was still transformed, let me remedy that."

Boulder snapped his fingers and Pada regained his former appearance.

"Let us never speak of that again!" Pada said angrily.

"Cluck cluck?" I replied. I saw a vein pulse on Pada'a forehead. I don't think he remembers chicken speak.

"Tamun, would you like to explain from here?"

"Of course Boulder." Tamun cleared his throat. "Now, the way each rune works is rather simple. Runes can be infused in almost any number of objects. In our case, the simplest and most effective way for us to utilize our runes, is to infuse them into our weapons and armor, though any object that you carry on you will suffice. Runes are a practical way to enhance one's abilities for those who cannot use magic themselves and are even better in that they can further strengthen even the strongest of magic users. Runes start out as simple enchanted stones. Each of these stones can be upgraded with magical properties from sources within the world you come across. You can upgrade a stone with any number of benefits, but it is best that you pick something that best compliments your style of fighting."

"What if one of us prefers to dance with our enemies?"

"Runes cannot enhance your ability to dance Ghost..."

"Then how do you explain this white dress I bought!"

"Anyways, there are a number of attributes you should be aware of. Strength, Dexterity, Wisdom, Intelligence, and Stamina. Each of these are pretty self explanatory. On top of that, there are resource pools that are tied into your rune. For mages, it is our mind power, how often and how powerful a spell we can cast. Most simply put, this mind power is called mana. A rune that is infused with a high amount of mind power will prevent a caster from fatiguing as often and allow him or her to cast more spells. Next, and most importantly, is the energy shield resource pool. Ghost, have you ever come across somebody that you just couldn't kill right away?"

"Ahh but of course! There was once this wee little tike that I had once blasted with an ice nova. When the chilling frost had cleared, instead of a wintersday ornament standing in the grass before me, there was this unharmed child! I was so perplexed, that I canceled Christmas that year and went on a four month retreat with Count Hibara! Vampires don't make for good roommates though. They snore too much."

"The child was protected by an energy shield from a rune he was carrying." Tamun continued. "Energy Shield is the most important runic resource that one can have. It is this energy shield that prevents you from dying from spells and kinetic trauma. This is a power that must always be prioritized when upgrading your runes. For once your energy shield is depleted, any mortal wound you sustain will kill you. Runes are what allow us to do extraordinary things in this world of ours. They allow us to harness the elemental flow, they allow us to shape the land we live in, they allow us to create our own destinies as we see fit. But they are also the cause of much strife and chaos..."

Tamun was silent for a moment before picking the subject back up. "Runes have many intricacies that can be discussed, including the usage of healing magic to convert mana into Energy Shield, but we will come back to those on a need to know basis. Right now you all have basic runes with general powers. They won't be hard to adjust to, just be sure not to ignore your mental fatigue. You can tell when your mana or energy shield is about to collapse based upon your mental state."

"I have oooonnneee question."

"Yes Ghost?"

"Well, I hate to sound like a materialistic being, for one as immaterial as I, but where's my rune?"

Boulder stepped forward. "You are already infused with a vast amount of power Ghost. These stones contain a meager amount in comparison to what you seem to possess. Besides, the runes react...strangely to your presence."

"Vast power eh?" I stepped forward and let a surge of electricity course through my hand.

"GHOST NO!!"

Oddly enough, I felt strangely compelled to sleep as I did. As if some alien force beckoned me into a dream. I shook off the feeling and let the rush of power explode outwards. Sparks filled the air as an enormous forward shockwave burst forth like a spear, driving itself into the ancient dwarven construct. The energy however stopped short of its target and all was silent. The air grew still and the light of the chamber dimmed. I peered forward, looking straight across the bridge. In the dark recesses of the construct, behind the slit in the plated being's helmet. A reddish eye appeared. The construct whirred to life, moving its limbs into a deadly stance, ready to engage the intruders that had so rudely awakened it.

"Ahh crap." Exclaimed Boulder. "Here we go!"

The guardian raised it's weapon high into the air. A brilliant flash of light swirled around its lance before exploding outwards in a dazzling display of blue. Behind Andriol stood three perfect replicas of itself, each with weapon lowered, ready to charge into the intruders. Boulder closed his eyes and put a hand to the side of his head briefly. Each of the guardians began their charge. The warlock opened his eyes and shouted, "Everyone to the center of the bridge. NOW!!"

All of us ran to Boulder, whom for a dwarf, was surprisingly quick on his feet. We charged forward with him in the direction of the approaching man horse constructs. We stayed as near to the middle as we could. About fifty feet across the bridge, a thick blue barrier materialized where we had been standing. The dwarf stopped nearly a hundred feet from the middlemost construct, delving into his pool of dark magic as he did. "Pwnager!" he shouted. "Stop that horse dead in its tracks! Use your newfound powers!" Without hesitation Pwn lept over his comrades, a feat that he most certainly could not perform before, and ran headlong into the central guardian. He pulled out his sword and shield before making contact. He raised his shield in front of him as he collided with dwarven metal. A resounding 'clang' echoed throughout the hall momentarily before the sound was drowned out by the metallic hooves of the other guardians.

"What of them?" yelled Pada.

"They're fakes! Notice that there is a fourth guardian at the far end of the bridge that is not moving! Watch for the nonmoving one! It is safe to stay in tha..." Boulder's voice was muffled by the rush of air as the two constructs to the side of us galloped on past. A hot rush of wind followed by a blazing trail of fire was left in their wake. The fire looked unnatural, as if it could sear flesh from bone just by looks alone. I looked back at the rest of the group and saw them engage the living metal beast. Pada the Great swung his axe high above his head and brought it down upon the creature's right foreleg. His oak spirit stood beside him, pummeling the guardian with a gnarled arm. Boulder wove dark magic about the creature, engulfing it in brilliant shrouds of darkness. The elf Ethari dove into the fray with daggers in hand, dancing around the beast madly, slashing at it with such speed and ferocity that she was but a blur amidst the action. I unsheathed my sword and lowered myself into a battle stance. A sudden woosh of air caught my attention as a ball of molten fire whizzed past my head. It was the old man casting spells.

"None of our attacks are having any affect!" Yelled Pada over the action.

"They are! Remember what I told you about energy shield? These guardians have them too!"

"Great."

I was about to enter into battle myself when the man horse raised his weapon high above his head. A haunting voice that belonged to no living being rose forth from the plated guardian.

Ec'cal Dagrush Volun Taraskur! You Should Not Have Come Here Mortals!

The being's weapon glowed with a bright blue once again. This time however, Andriol did not summon copies of itself, but instead infused itself with a great amount of energy. It grew larger as it did, nearly doubling its size. The lance in its hand transformed. It grew broader and larger and by the end, where once a golden lance had been, an enormous serrated black sword now lingered. It brought down it's sword arm and swung heavily at Pwnager.

Devastating Attack!

"Pwnager! Get outta there!!"

Pwn had little time to react and was too slow, the gargantuan blade struck him right in the side. A horrified look crossed his face as a sharp wobbly noise was emitted from where he was hit. To his relief, the blade had not struck its mark, but had impacted on his energy shield. Pwnager grinned and lifted up his shield, taking a step forward to strike the being again. As he did however, his strength left him as his legs buckled and he struggled to remain standing.

"Your energy shield is depleted! Don't move!" The dwarf cast a ghostly blue barrier around Pwnager. "Tamun, I can't keep up a Shield of Solid Mind for very long, do you know priest magic?"

Tamun lowered his arms and hesitated before answering, "I know some basics but..."

"Basic will have to do! Cast an Urgent Heal, a regenerate, something! I'll keep him protected for as long as I can!"

Tamun furrowed his brow and shifted his focus to the knight. Strange yellowish magic pulsed around him and Pwnager as he began casting the spells that would restore energy. As he did, I entered into battle. For the first time in ages, I was about to fight something that wasn't a lowly peasant or farmer. An actual being that was infused with energies, energies that could kill. For a moment, I almost felt like I was doing something...good? No, not quite that feeling, beneficial? I was going to be helping other people...I never helped other people. I shook off the feeling and shrugged. Heh, I'm not helping anyone, I concluded. I'm just tagging along for the amusement! You only live once! Or twice? What am I anyways?

I slid my sword back into its sheath and charged forward. Pada noticed me coming and held out his axe. Great minds think alike! I lept upon his axe as he swung forward with the force of a bear. I was angled toward the construct's plated head. A great rush of energy filled me as I surged forward with blinding momentum. I collected all of this energy into my fist and swung heavily. A great 'boom' filled the chamber and a nasty crunch of metal hitting metal followed as my fist connected with the man horse's helmet. As I landed on the ground, I noticed my handiwork. The guardian's head was crumpled and sparked madly. It's energy shield depleted. This was the blow we needed. Pada's axe began hitting its mark, causing dents and tears in the constructs legs. Pwn was back on his feet and using his runic energy to lure the thing into attacking him while the rest began casting their spells anew.

Soon, mighty rents appeared over the being. Heavier parts of its armor were shorn off, it had multiple holes melted into its chest from Tamun's nonstop bombardment. Parts of it glowed a deathly black from Boulder's dark magic. Yet despite the heavy damage, Andriol did not relent. It hacked and slashed with it's weapon, causing injuries that put a strain on the casters. It raised its sword once more, infusing itself with yet more energy. This time, the blueish energy enveloped its body, lashing out at its physical aggressors, becoming ethereal weapons.

Whirling Blade Dance!

The energy weapons struck their marks furiously, Pwnager was knocked backwards, Pada and his oak managed to dodge back before sustaining too much damage, but Ethari was not so lucky. Trapped under the constructs massive legs, she was hit full force with the fury of its attack. The ethereal blades struck her again and again. I could hear the ripple noises of the energy shield being hit by the constant onslaught of the blades.

"My magic won't reach her!" Boulder yelled.

Without hesitation, I rushed forward into the thick of the danger. I'm still not entirely sure why I did. She raised her eyes to meet mine as I neared her. The energy around her flickering madly with each blow she sustained. We locked eyes for a moment as she met my gaze. She gave a hopeless smile before her shield failed her.


I heard a sickening 'crack' and a wet 'snick' as blade struck bone and sinew. Infuriated and unsure of what to do, still too far out of reach, I abandoned my suit of armor and lashed out with my ghastly soul. I grabbed the construct and flung it against the far wall. It crashed against the stone with a thunderous boom. I swung back and repossessed my armor, rushing over to the crumpled elven body. Boulder was quicker than I and managed to envelop her with his mind shield. He scooped her small body up within his massive arms. From a distance I could see the little elf let out one last breath of air, and then she was still.

"She's not breathing! Tamun help me or she won't make it!" Tamun rushed over but stopped dead in his tracks as he peered over at the far wall. I turned and looked. Beaten and battered, on the verge of system failure, the ancient construct Andriol lunged forward, creating another 3 copies of itself and preparing to finish off our group. Pada gave me a hard look, his eyes glistening, filled with an elven fury and hatred at seeing one of his own cut down in battle. It was that murderous look that drove me to act with him as one. I rushed forward and unhooked my spiked green shield. Pada waited until the last second and then grabbed hold of one of my shoulder spikes, charging in right behind me. At that moment Andriol swept forward to meet us. Pada reached forward and tapped my shield with his axe. The shield was of elven design and pulsed with a dark green light. The shield reacted to the elf's fury, forming a fiery, ghostly variant of itself that stretched and expanded to meet the size of the approaching being.

Time seemed to slow for the both of us. I drew back my shield arm and smashed it straight into Andriol, pushing all of my kinetic force into a heavy blow. We crashed together violently, causing a shockwave to emanate from our point of collision, forcing the guardian to collapse backwards. Pada swung himself from my back and jumped high into the sky, raising his axe above his head. I raised up my free arm and poured as much magic into Pada's energy shield as I dared. Andriol looked up and raised its weapon to block the attack. The elf was not to be stopped though, for his axe slashed down, breaking the enormous blade in two, and continued traveling downwards, straight into the construct's runic heart. Pada landed the blow, causing a massive surge of energy to burst forth from the dwarven creation. The outpouring of energy sent Pada and I sailing. Pada caught himself midair and landed gracefully along the bridge. I was not so lucky. I was flung deep into the abyss, down to the liquid fire that awaited below. I was too exhausted from the day's events. I could not abandon my armor, I could not become my spectral self again today. And so I fell.



An image entered my mind. I saw a dragon, a majestic, brown dragon atop an icy tower. It's thick neck snaked over an enormous bulk of a body. It's wings were folded against its side, displaying large muscular joints across thin webbed veins. A sharp row of spikes ran along the base of its skull and down its back, growing smaller as they reached the tail which was curled up behind its back legs like a deadly viper waiting to strike at it's prey. The dragon's forelegs held up its mass while it's hind legs sat hunched, much like a cat. Two dark pits in its head concealed sharp, yellow eyes under bony crested brows. A few sharp teeth extended past its closed maw. It looked at me and let loose a puff of smoke from its large snout, a great sadness in its eyes. And then all was dark.

Ethari!

Visions of green and blue. A sweeping sea of reeds bending upon the wind as if provoked into performing a delicate art. Over the sea were darkened clouds threatening to pour their contents onto the land below. A field of green that would become awash with brown. A lush and verdant place now tainted a dark hue from the blackening sky. The wind whipped the grass this way and that, never deciding upon a single direction to flow, only billowing the denizens of the land into a chaotic strife whenever it so pleased.

Ethari!!

I love the rain. It brings so much darkness, but it gives so much life. A blackened cause that leaves behind a nurturing effect. If I could choose to be one thing when I pass into the void, it would be the rain.

Ethari!!!

This time she heard her name. The thunderous clouds within her mind vanished, the beautiful terrace of green turned muddied and disfigured. Her name was called once more and the vision completely collapsed. All she saw was black. And all she felt was pain. The overwhelming sensation of harm came back to her at once and she instinctively sealed herself behind thick mental barriers to escape the pain. It numbed it slightly, but she felt as if she was being shredded from the inside.

Ethaaarriii!!!!

This time she heard the voice loudly and clearly within the confines of her mind. She lashed out at it, trying to drive it away. She was almost successful until she heard the voice again. "Ethari!! Open up your mind! We cannot heal you when you are closed off! Quickly!! There isn't much time!" The voice and pressure in her head soon vanished and she was left to content herself with her confinement. Part of her inner being tugged at her though. Memories flooded into her mind. Daggers, pain, fighting, Ghost, Pwnager... The wisdom of the words she hard heard then hit her. I'm alive. I'm in pain, I will die if I don't let them do something. Her mind was still not clear, but she was finally able to grasp what was happening. Reluctantly, she lowered the barriers around her mind and slowly drifted back into consciousness.

As she did the pain returned in full force. A sharp, slicing pain. She willed her way past it and felt the lids heavy on her eyes and lifted them open as best she could. A dark cavernous ceiling rose up before her. The Hall of Survivors she realized. She attempted to get up but hissed. The pain struck her again and a steady hand pressed her back down.

"Easy young one." It was the dwarf, Boulder. "Tamun how bad is it?" Ethari glanced to her right and saw the bald spellcaster very carefully applying a bandage to her arm. He finished wrapping the gauze tightly and rose up.

"Not good." He said with a somber expression. "I was able to patch up her external lacerations and staunch most of the bleeding but..."Tamun looked at Boulder with a very serious expression. "She needs a professional healer for this. Her insides are still a mess, she has numerous broken bones, and I can only guess at the extent of magical damage she's incurred. I dare not cast any more spells lest I kill her or worse."

Ethari rolled her head to the left and saw Pada pacing back and forth along the bridge. He had a very angry and worried expression about his face. Pwnager sat cross legged sharpening his sword, also in a very agitated mood. In the distance, the hulking shell of Andriol the dwarven construct, lay in a pile, dead. Ethari grimaced and sucked in hard as the pain hit her again. Tamun steadied her with a hand while it passed. She looked up at the old man and attempted to speak. Her voice caught in her throat though as a flood of colors entered her vision from the effort.

"Try not to speak Ethari, you'll only make it worse." Ethari blinked in acknowledgement and then moved her eyes down over herself. She noticed an extremely large cut extending from above her nape and winding along her torso. Her clothes were drenched in blood around the cut as far as down as she could see. The makeshift rags tied around her body were bloody as well. Her hip pulsed and ached, she could only assume that the incision made it down that far.

Tamun must guessed at what she was thinking for he spoke then. "You were slashed four times before Ghost could get Andriol off of you. The first cut is the worst, it hit you right above the neck and dragged all the way down to your thigh. It struck deep and you nearly suffocated. A half an inch deeper and it would have severed your carotid artery. It bruised most of your ribs and shattered a few others. The second cut was shallow, but jagged. It swept straight down your back. This one is likely to cause the greatest pain. The third and forth strikes stabbed right into your left shoulder, severely damaging the muscle and breaking your humerus. If Ghost hadn't thrown Andriol across the room, you probably would have lost that arm."

Ethari gazed up at the ceiling as she ingested the information. Boulder didn't give her much time though as he began speaking to Tamun again. "We'll have to decide what to do and soon. Ghost is dead, we're down another group member, and the rest of us aren't looking very good for wear. If we leave, Andriol will be reborn, as is the nature of the runic magic in this place. If we stay, Ethari will surely die." Ethari was still hung up on the first statement. She gave Tamun a questioning look. His shoulders sagged and he began.

"Ghost and Pada destroyed the construct, but at a price. Ghost was blasted off the platform and fell. Boulder sensed his presence vanish as he reached the bottom. Pada searched deep into the Hall until he came across Glamo. At that point he was forced back here before he could awaken the second guardian. As far as we can tell, Ghost is gone."

Ethari closed her eyes. She hadn't known Ghost for very long, but losing a partner was always tough. The man had made her laugh, even with his crude sense of humor. Boulder suddenly began speaking again. "One of us can stay here in the hall and attempt to keep it open but if the Hall senses weakness, it will send lesser constructs at us in force. It will take at least three people to ferry Ethari back to Varanas safely, so our only option would be to leave. If we leave though, the Hall will forever be closed to us. We can't stay and we can't go, and I for one, cannot give up this opportunity of a lifetime to leave it all behind!"

Tamun cleared his throat. "No need, I can bring her back myself."

Boulder raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"I still have contacts in the Eye of Wisdom. I shall call upon them and have them teleport us back to Varanas where we can find a proper healer. The rest of you can stay here whilst I am away."

Pwnager got up and interrupted. "No deal Tamun! If she goes, I'm going as well! I've traveled with her for years! I'm not about to leave her in the hands of a bunch of strangers!"

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Boulder on this one Pwn. This is an opportunity that cannot be wasted. We must progress through here if we are to make it to the Zurhidon. You must stay."

Pwnager looked at Tamun in disbelief and then turned to Pada. "Pada, talk some sense into him!"

Pada stopped his pacing and looked at Pwnager. "As much as I wish to leave this place and ferry my kin to safety, the old one is right. This is an evil that must be purged. We must stay."

Furious, Pwnager began to retort when Tamun broke in. "Pwn, she will be fine. I promise you. We will both return in short order. Do not worry about her, she will be in good hands."

Pwnager, still reluctant to let his anger go, relented by giving a slight nod. He sat back down again and pulled out a whetstone, sharpening his blade once more.

"Right then, I must summon my contacts. Best of luck to you all."

Tamun wandered the crowded streets of Varanas, attempting to glean insight as to where his target was. He had left Ethari at the Eye of Wisdom's headquarters where they treated her as best they could. They still insisted that he bring a dedicated priest, for she was infected with a magic that they knew not how to remove. Tamun asked high and low, searching for a healer somewhere amidst the bowels of the city. He came across many, but they were nothing special. Witch doctors, shamans, petty healers that could do naught but treat bruises with herbs and ointments.

The old man was afraid that all of the best healers may have been in Dalanis, a whole continent away. That is, until he happened upon a rather disgruntled man in a tavern called the Royal Goose, whose sign had curiously been painted over with the words Golden Giblets in a rather blood red color. Tamun overheard the man complaining about a priest in town that apparently had a rather foul mouth and an ill temper to him. After agreeing to an exorbitantly high sum, the priest had managed to re-attach the man's hand.

"You'll find tha man in Lower City, Eastern wing, joost look for a display of market stalls. His shop is on the other end past the alchemy stand. I warn ye though, he's a nasty little buggar." Tamun thanked the man and took off. He now stood among a myriad of townsfolk near the marketing stalls. It took him a few minutes to wade through the crowd, but at last, he found the store he had been searching for. It was a rather drab looking place, a rotten wooded house at the side alley of a booming market. The only indication that it was a place of healing was the small painted healing symbol upon the front door. Tamun stepped forward and rapped his knuckles against the door twice. A disgruntled voice called out from inside.

"I told ye Harold, there ain't a cure in the seven hells for yer thrice blasted bull! Stupid can't be healed and if you show up here with the guards again, I'll chop off yer bollocks and feed em to your own cattle!"

Well, thought Tamun, the man at the tavern was right. This healer was definitely ill tempered. The old man shouted back, "My name is Tamun, adventuring mage. I require your healing services!" Silence followed. The only thing that he could hear was the banter coming from the market while he waited. Frustrated, Tamun stepped away and was about to leave when the door behind him creaked open.

"Well, whaddya know. A customer after all. Do come in, I might be offerin to do some healing todays." The man stepped back inside his shop, leaving the door wide open. Tamun turned back and stooped inside. The shop was dimly lit, alembics and other apertures of alchemical science lay strewn about with scrolls of parchment dotting the whole back of the store. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the change in light.

"Weyll don't just stand there bloody gawkin, close the dyoor and lest talk price eh? Guud, now what seem to be tha problem. Bad eyesight? Goin senile? Lost that baby blue in your eyes that you had as a youth? Ermm, can't fix the baldness though, but I see so many problems that can be remedied! Jyust name a few and we can start our negotiatin!"

Tamun looked around and could not figure out where the shopkeeper's voice was coming from. "Where are you..."

"Oye, ya bloody daft! I'm down hyere!" Tamun shifted his gaze down and was shocked to see a dwarf. Not just any dwarf, but the smallest dwarf he had ever laid eyes on. He must have stood a little higher than Tamun's knees. A thick, white, braided beard hung down from the dwarf's face. Intricate loops were attached at the ends, giving it a grand appearance. His similarly white hair stood up on end as if he had touched one too many supercharged conduits. Upon his grizzled face were a pair of goggles, with the leftmost one sporting three additional lenses that could be extended for increased magnification. The dwarf looked more like an inventor than he did a healer.

"Uuhmm..."

"Whot? My appearance? Ye can't be serious? It's all the syame to yu blokes now innit? Ya want somethin and thyen when tha sellar don'na look the way ye want, ya go all gawk eyed and back out am I ryight?"

"No it's just that, I wasn't expecting..."

"Yeah yeah, now what are we here fyor? I en't got all day y'know?"

"Well it's not me that needs healing, it's a friend of mine."

"Then why'nt yu bring yer friend here then?"

"She's hurt badly. She's being watched at the Eye of Wisdom Headquarters," the dwarf bristled at those words, "and she needs someone who is highly skilled in the arts of healing magic to help her." Tamun finished.

"Eye of Wysdom eh?" The dwarf stroked his beard real slowly. "Intrestin Intrestin...myust be sumun of import to be looked aftar by them lot. Wyell, I can'na refuse a hapless patient now cian I? But myost importantly, the pay will be guud, will it not?"

Tamun tossed the dwarf a small pouch of coins. He opened it greedily and counted the contents. "Oh, the pay will be good, I promise you. Let's just call that, a...negotiation fee. There's plenty more where that came from."

The dwarf slapped his side and and yelled out heartily, "Well thank ye Master Mage, thank ye kindly! Take me tu this patien o' yers and we shall set ryight to work then!" The dwarf rubbed his hands together and grabbed some provisions from the shop. Then the two of them set out for the Eye of Wisdom.

A short time later and Tamun led the healer into Ethari's chambers. The elf was in a deep trance so that she would not feel the effects of her magic infection. The dwarf stopped and looked at Ethari curiously. "You din'na say she wuz an elf."

Tamun shot the dwarf a heated look. "Is that going to be a problem?"

The dwarve stared at Ethari with a strange look on his face. His boisterous voice came out rather quietly. "Nay, nay it won't be Master Mage, it's jyust...not what I was expecting." He looked over the elf for a moment longer before shaking himself. "Wyell, let's not dawdle. Gotta see the damages first eh?"

Tamun nodded and let the dwarf go to work. He was silent for a time, taking measurements, examining nearly every inch of her cuts and scars with his augmented goggles, chanting a soft word every now and then. After an hour had nearly passed the stream of curses began.

"...and the bugled horses they rode in on! Who wyere the ones that did the healin on this poor lass? Terrible!! Terrible wyork! They wen' an butchered the whyole thing! I hyave tons o' work to do, tons...Bunch of incompetent, guud fer nuthin, sons of horse ridden flea biters! I'm syurprised she en' already dead! She sh'udda been brought to me immediately! Blasted Eye of Wisdom, bumbling felchers and....." The dwarf continued like this for a while as he began casting numerous healing spells and taking a variety of concotions for himself. Tamun began feeling drowsy after who knows how long and sat in an armchair in the corner. He stayed awake and watched the dwarf work for as long as he could before slipping off into a deep sleep.

A light tapping on the old man's shoulder woke him sometime later. Tamun snapped awake and peered down at the dwarf. Small rays of moonlight shone through the barred windows. "How is she? Is she gonna be alright?"

The dwarf gave Tamun a soft smile and grabbed a pipe from his bag. "She's gonna be jyust fine Master Mage. Jyust fine. Wounds are all hyealed up, bones all set, negative magic removed, and intyernal damage r'paired. All she be needin now is rest." He took a puff from his pipe before continuing. "She wuz in dyire shape when I gyot here. Dyire shape...Yu have to tell me wut happened. I may'nt be the best priest in tha w'yorld, but I still care about me patients. Wut happened Master Mage, and do nay leave out any details."

"What about your money? Not gonna negotiate for the rest of it first?"

"Ta hell with tha money! Somethin dyark happened here and I needan ta knyow about it. Omit not a thing!"

So Tamun began his tale, telling of his pursuit of the Zurhidon, the people he had met along the way, the disaster in the Hall of Survivors, and finally the death of Ghostlord. He had left him out of the story for it did not seem important to bring up that subject.

"And that's when one of our group members, Ghostlord fell to his death...Ethari looked as if she may die so we all..." The dwarf interrupted him and spoke with a very concerned voice.

"Ghostlord? You're sure? It couldn't have been...What did he look like?"

Confused, Tamun described Ghost in vague detail. "Hulking large man in a suit of green armor, about seven and a half feet tall. Glowing eyes, massive spiked green shield..."

The dwarf lept up and clapped his hands together. "Aye! That be him! That be Ghostlord! By The Great Dwarf's beard! He's alive!! I can'na believe it, it's him!!"

Tamun shook his head. "He's not alive anymore I'm afraid, the fall..."

"Nay nay, he's alive Master Mage, he's alive. A lil magma en'a nough to finish hyim off! But he is in tyrouble. Hall of Survyivors? Normally I'd be furious with ye for exposin an elf to syuch danger, but Ghostlord...Thyis changes everythin. Stay with the elf, Master Mage. I hyave preparations to myake! People to gather!" The dwarf gathered up his things and bounded for the door.

"Wait! Why is Ghost so important? Who are you?" he asked.

The dwarf turned and cocked his head, "Why, I'm a Ghostling didn'ya know?" And with that he took off into the night.

16. From Darkness

In the beginning, there was darkness. And even now. Darkness. Black, lifeless. An enveloping shroud that threatens to smother the world in its embrace. A withering stillnes as cold as the howling peaks of the Ystra Highlands. Darkness. Oh, except for the large blotches of bubbling fire in the corners of my vision. Also the forefront of my vision. In fact, I believe all of my vision is filled with molten rock. Burbling magma swirling lagubriously around my lifeless ...Body? Armor body? Host body armor? Did I mention I like fire? I lifted my head and cracked my nonexistant knuckles. There was something about floating in a pool of lava that was just so refreshing. And scalding! The slow flowing magma seemed deep, but as I uprighted myself, my boots touched stone with a muffled whump. The liquid fire flowed around me, licking at my breasplate just inches below the chin.

Six and a half foot deep river of fire! Convenient Depth!

I peered warily at my surroundings. The fire obscured most of my peripherals and cast awkward shadows in the distance. But from what I could tell, it seemed I had fallen a good 200 feet into a chasm from the bridge. I must have drifted far from my original fall point for the only distinguishing features I could make out from below were two stone arches leading through some distant corridors while a line of golem statues guarded the ancient architecture with their lifeless features. Near the middle of the chasm, lined along either side at regular intervals were stone pipes that dumped a steady flow of lava down into the molten river that winded and curved for what may have been miles beneath this so-called Hall.

This is a flow canal for a metal recycling conduit. Most likely originating from a secondary forge set deep within the Hall of Survivors. I looked back towards the direction from whence I traveled.

If I were to wade my way up the canal, I should come across a pressure regulator connected to a density extractor used to pump the remains of discarded liquid ores back towards the forge for further use. If I were to bypass the regulator and travel up what would most likely be a 70 degree inclined slope for about half a mile, I should come across a primary sluice gate with two secondary sluices on either side. If I know anything about dwarven forges, the gate will be an oversized steel construct connected directly to a flow control unit in order to separate the tougher, magic infused metals left behind from processing. All I needs do is blast the righthand gate with enough force to cause a buildup of lava so that the pressure head on the left sluice will open wide enough for me to pass through unscathed where I can then climb the emergency rails chiseled into the side of the chamber with nothing more than slight armor burn and severe hyperthermia! What? I know a guy.

17. Glamo

Pada the Great unhooked his axe and charged forward. His oak spirit close behind. The massive guardian Glamo towered overhead. The thing's bulk rose skyward upon thick stone legs. The giant was constructed in the likeness of a great dwarven king. Its frame was decently thin for its size, portraying the age of the one it was constructed to represent. Etched within the stone of its body were blood red runes that caused the aged material to glow a radiant but dull red. Its shoulders sprouted fire from thick holes carved near the top while the crown carved into the thing's balding head mimicked the fiery spectacle of its twin shoulders. The most distinguishing feature of the guardian was that of its face. The face was carved with such care that when its head moved, it seemed to ripple in the light as if it were not made of stone, but flesh. Over its enormous hooked nose sat a flowing marble beard that gave its features a more aged personality.

The warlock, BoulderShoulder was locked in combat with a number of smaller guardians that the great gaurdian Glamo seemed to summon from hidden facets within the wall. The fight had begun several minutes ago, but the trio felt that it had been hours. Pada tried once more to loosen some of the stone plates guarding the rune set within its chest. He leaped skyward and brought his curved axe down with all his might. Pada had many years to hone his strength and empower his gear with runes and it showed. Each blow he landed cracked and dented the beast's impressive stone breastplate but the process was draining. Pwnager did his best to assist Pada as he could, occassionaly blocking a powerful blow from the beast or weakening its runic aura, but the guardian seemed unphased from the punishment.

Pwnager glanced at Pada and saw the elf breathing heavily. If they didn't end the fight soon, this place would surely be their tomb. Pwnager sidestepped a stomp from the guardian and his ears rang from the resounding rumble. He scanned his eyes over the room. He looked for something, anything that might work to their advantage. If they could move back towards the entrance of the room, they could possibly use the ramp they had traveled down to their advantage, but a great runic barrier had sprung up behind them when they began the fight.

Think Pwn, Think! What would Drakkar do? Pwn knew the answer already. His old Order Commander, Drakkar would have stood there, clasped him on the shoulder and looked skyward. He would have had ten answers before any battle ever began. He would have a strategy for every backup strategy. Thinking of his old commander, Pwnager looked towards the ceiling and spotted something. Something he should have spotted sooner.

Pwnager swore under his breath. How could I have been so stupid? Pwnager rushed over towards Boulder who was still engaged with the miniature guardians. He stopped within earshot of the warlock after avoiding a crushing blow from one of Glamo's swings. "Boulder! I need you to loosen the stones set within the ceiling!"

Boulder twisted around and shot Pwn a look. "Can't you see I'm busy!" Sweat poured from the Dwarf's thick brow and his breathing was similarly labored.

"Boulder! This is important, can you do it?"

Boulder blasted the guardians back with a wave of his hand and craned his neck to where Pwnager was indicating. He noticed the web of cracks running along the finely crafted bricks and saw the slight bulge from the weight of the ceiling. Then a smile stretched across his face.

"Good thinking knight! Give me a moment!" A black tendril of energy shot out from the warlock and a cracking noise could be heard throughout the cavernous room. Pwnager then rejoined Pada who was leaning on his oak spirit for support. Pwn needed Pada's strength for the final part of the plan. He gazed up towards a pillar on the left-hand side of the arch leading out of the room. Pwn ran up to Pada and
pointed towards the pillar.

"Pada! I need your strength!" Pada looked up towards the massive stone pillar. He then breathed his response with a twinge of pain in his voice.

"And what pray tell...do you want me to do with that?"

Pwnager shook his head. "I need you to bring your axe down as hard as you can on Glamo's arm when I say. Can you do it?" Pada shifted his weight onto his legs and nodded. Pwnager slapped his arm in affirmative and called out to the warlock.

"You ready?" Boulder gave him a thumbs up. "Okay. let's hope this works." He said through gritted teeth. Pwn rushed forward and infused his weapon with the power of runic aggression. A blast of red energy fanned out towards the guardian and into its chest. The heart of its power. The guardian Glamo's attention was forced upon Pwnager. The knight backpedaled, dragging the guardian closer towards his mark. He knew the guardian would never fall for the trick intentionally, but all it would take is a bit of momentum. Just a slight nudge. Pwn stopped in place and lowered his shield. Glamo didn't hesitate. It raised its massive arm and swiped downwards, looking to smash the defenseless knight into pulp.

"NOW!!" Pwnager shouted. Pada the Great rushed forward with oak spirit in tow. The guardian's arm was mere inches from crushing Pwnager when both Pada's axe and oak spirit slammed full force into the side of its appendage. Confused, Glamo roared as its shoulder twisted sideways and its arm traveled backwards from the force of the blow. It slammed directly into the bottom of the pillar supporting the ceiling. The room shook violently as the solid rock within the pillar groaned heavily before collapsing inward on itself. BoulderShoulder threw out another tendril of dark energy and pulled with all of his mental might once it latched onto the weakening overhang. Glamo took one step forward. The room shook and flecks of dust sprayed from the ceiling. Glamo took another step forward. The top of the pillar gave way and began to tear the stone connected to it. Glamo raised its machined foot once more, hovering it right above Pwnager.

Pwn waited until the last second as the lumbering giant brought its foot down. As the shadow enclosed upon where it intended to land, the knight made a mad dash for Glamo's second foot, pummeling through with his shield with as much force as he could muster. The giant staggered from the blow and lost its balance. A strained creak emanated from the being as it tumbled backwards. A giant crack appeared near the top of the room as the combined efforts of warlock and gravity pulled with all their might. With a thunderous crash, Glamo's hulking body slammed into the back wall bringing down huge chunks of the intricately carved stone. The force of its impact was too much and the ceiling ruptured. Great masses of rock rained down from the ceiling and began pelting the floor.

"Everybody through the arch! Now!" The team bolted as quick as they could and raced for the now awkwardly smashed doorway. Boulder squeezed through a hole in the debris and blasted it open with his dark powers. Pada was through next, though his shoulder was bleeding profusely as something jagged seemed to have struck it. Pwnager was just about through when a particularly large chunk of debris skittered across the floor and pummeled his legs out from under him. The knight panicked and attempted to right himself but his legs would not respond. A sharp crack sounded from overhead and the entire room began to collapse upon itself. The ceiling approaching the floor at an alarming rate. Pwnager suddenly felt himself leave the ground as gnarly hands gripped his plated gloves. He looked up to see Pada's Oak Spirit lifting him to his feet. The Oak grasped him firmly and pushed the injured knight and itself to safety. A deafening crash resounded through the hall as what was left of the room caved inwards. Massive chunks of rock spilled through the arch but the walls held and soon all was silent. Pwnager was just about to slump to the floor in exhaustion when a loud boom to his right caught his attention. A giant, red glowing arm broke through the wall, rocks and stone trickling from the opening. It swiped at the party but could not reach them. The arm whirred and shook before its dull red glow dimmed to but a faint whisper before finally fading. The arm stopped moving, its fingers open like that of the curled legs of a dead spider. Glamo, the second guardian of the Hall of Survivors was no more.

18. Guldamor

Exhausted, but none the worse for wear, the group, headed by Bouldershoulder strode through the last archway that would lead to the next guardian room. Boulder motioned for everyone to stop mere inches from the door. Too tired to complain, Pada and Pwnager halted in their tracks.

"Alright, I think here's as good a place as any to rest up. We should make camp here and attempt to get some shut eye. It's too bad you're not still a chicken, Pada, for I think we're all starving."

Pada gave Boulder a look before sinking down against the wall. Pwnager, as equally worn out as the elf, rolled his shoulders and prepared to collapse to the ground himself. However, a glint of light shimmered just out of corner of his eye and caught his attention. He pointed down towards the guardian room curiously.

"What do you suppose that is?"

Boulder turned to look at the room. "'Fraid I don't see anything..."

Pwn insisted. "Looks like a saw a flash of something just now."

Boulder stroked his aged beard and stared ponderously at the room. "I don't think you understand. I really don't see anything."

"What do y...."

"There should be a big ol' hulkin stone guardian standing right there, but all I see is an empty room..."

Pada groaned as he stood up. He hoisted his axe over his shoulder and moved forward past the arch.

"Pada, what in blazes!"

"Might as well figure out where our missing guardian went."

Annoyed, Bouldershoulder quickly sidestepped Pada and bounded forward with surprising agility. Pwnager sighed and shifted his shield on his back to a more comfortable position before striding forward.

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Y'know. Sometimes a man has to do some pretty terrible things in life in order to get ahead. Me? I'd like to believe that pretty and terrible don't belong in the same sentence. Unless you find yourself an extraordinarily pretty lass who may or may not have done some excessively terrible things in her life such as burning cockroaches or slaying bakers! That's what a like to call a pretty form of terrible! But anyways. It just so happens that destroying some giant, hulking stone automaton seemed to be my ticket to freedom. Listen, if I had known that blasting open some random sealed archway would lead to the death of some giant boulder creature, I might have considered at least asking it to pose for me before doing so! Now I've got a fresh corpse and not a hint of satisfaction! That's what I like to call terrible! What's a ghost to do when his only friend in life is his abusive use of magic and the death of all things surreal when he can't even do it properly!

So Here I sit upon this thing's smashed head, pondering what's next in life, when all of a sudden I spot three cantankerous corpses shambling towards me from a separate arch set against the other side of the room. Normally I would have welcomed said corpses with open arms and with flame at that! But then I noticed that these were no corpses, but rather people. People I recognized. They weren't quite into formalities, so I absconded from doing that, but I was quite pleased to see them nonetheless.

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To Boulder, the sight was nothing short of magnificent. In a disturbing sort of way. When they entered through their arch, they noticed blast marks coming from a perpendicular arch on the right side of the rectangular room. The marks continued to the left for several meters where massive grooves dug into the ground until the visage of what created them was clearly within sight. Smashed against the left-hand wall, crumpled inwards like a piece of paper, stood the remains of Guldamor, the third guardian of the Hall. And sitting atop this destroyed guardian without a care in the world, was Ghostlord.