“Ya ready, softmeat?” asked Gutrender, excitedly.

“Can I have a few months to improve my cardio?” I called back, doing a few star jumps.

The goblin chuckled. “Save us da time and get cooked, will ya? We’s hungry.”

“I’m a bit skinny. You could always spend a few weeks fattening me up like a pig?”

“Ya funny, but nah. Go room ta room. If you’s too slow, we stick ya full of arras, got it?”

“So I can’t stay here until you all die of old age?” I replied.

Gutrender turned to someone unseen and nodded, the valves in his suit spitting steam as he moved. The door in front of me clattered open, revealing the first room. An arrow thunked into the ground at my feet, urging me to get my arse moving.

“You know, you can cause an injury if you don’t warm up before exercise?” I yelled.

Two more arrows hit the dirt, perilously close to my toes.

“Ok! I’m going! Jeez, you’re pushier than a door to door window salesman.”

I shut out the jeering that was almost deafening, concentrating on the seemingly innocuous starting room. Either the orcs were playing fair, or they were just too dumb to lay a sneaky trap within, but I made it through the first doors unscathed.

“Is this one of the games where I can climb out and win?” I asked Gutrender.

“Nope. Make it to de end. Dat’s de only way.”

“And how many have made it to the end?”

“Let me fink.” He moved to count the blades on his arm with the spiked mace. “Oh, none. You might be da first.”

That didn’t fill me with much confidence. I was without my gear, but I still had my enhanced attributes. The room I was in was more a corridor, and I assumed by the snaking layout of the crane runners above, the entire thing would be of a similar design. I had flashbacks of Dark Souls and Tomb Raider, except I wasn’t as pretty as Lara or as dead as the protagonist in the former. Yet.

“What do I get if I win?” I asked as a final question.

“Food, sleep, then fight.”

“Great,” I muttered.

The floor ahead of me was caked with patches of dried blood. So too were the walls. The sheets of metal were so poorly fitted together that I couldn’t identify the threat from a convenient slit or grouping of holes. I saw shadowy faces peering out at me from the hidden side, and I took these to be the operators of whatever trickery awaited. My approach was the same as the deserter cave; slow and steady, using my foot in place of my sword to check for pitfalls and pressure plates. I was halfway down the passage when I sensed the throbbing heat emanating from the panels beside me. The gauntlet had steam operated traps, if the creak of expanding metal and hiss of pressure valves could be trusted. The patches of dried blood, both brown from humans and black from orcs, were a perfect warning sign.

To my left, I heard the unseen machinery’s pitch increase, and dived forward into a full roll. The hidden blades swirled out of their slits like a fan, cutting the air where I had been only a split second ago. The sneaky little bastards had a second trap waiting, but with my enhanced agility, I turned the roll into another dive, missing the madly slicing blades by a few inches. I came to my feet, wondering if anyone had even made it past the first obstacle, let alone the rooms to come. If I hadn’t been blessed with my powers, I’d already be a quivering heap of crimson chunks.

Gutrender slow clapped my achievement and ordered the next door open. It rumbled open, and I was left in no doubt what awaited me on the other side. The scorch marks and heat stains on the metal were blindingly obvious. A pattern of square tiles stretched the entire fifty foot length, each about two foot in width. Ash fluttered in the cracks, telling me that people had made it here, and some no further. I spied little scraps of burned cloth and puddles of oil that could only be from the rendering down of people’s bodies. Their deaths had, once again, given me at least a vague idea of where the flame throwers were located.

“Do you know how much stuff you could’ve done instead of wasting time building this?” I asked Gutrender.

“Yeah, but dis is more fun,” he cackled.

“I can teach you how to play cards if you’d like? A bit of Texas Hold ‘Em? Rummy?”

“Move!” he snapped, triggering a fresh shot from the orc watchers that chimed against the steel under my feet.

I had two options, and I opted for the first. Tucking my arms in, I pushed off and started running like the devil was on my arse. The trigger plates opened the hidden valves, the blasts of gas igniting a fraction later. I was already past the cones of flame that roared out in my wake. I didn’t slow even as I reached the end of the passage and slammed into the door with a resounding gong. I’d managed to throw my arms up in time, but my forearms and pelvis had crashed into the metal. A small portion of my health vanished, but it was better than the alternative and pre-cooking myself for their plates.

Gutrender glared at me.

Alwyn smiled.

The next door opened and I moaned. A gigantic tear in the cave floor waited before me. As much as I hated embarrassing myself, I got on my hands and knees and crawled to the edge, expecting a pit of stakes. What I found was nothing. Literally. There was no bottom to the crevasse. The darkness eventually swallowed the sides of the hole. I picked up a small rock beside me and dropped it in, ignoring the dark laughter that rang all around me. I could hear the click-clack as it rebounded down, and down, and down, growing fainter until it could be heard no more. If I’d had a torch, I could well imagine the sputtering flame getting smaller and smaller until that too vanished from sight without ever touching the bottom.

“Fuck me,” I whispered.

“Time ta swing, softmeat!” Gutrender yelled.

I looked up and saw what he was talking about. A framework of pipes suspended above the nothingness would see me across to safety. There was one major problem, and my gut churned as I looked at the source of my disgust. Baked skin hung from the pipes in various places, some even consisting of full hands that had clutched the pipes when the steam was directed through them. I imagined their owners lying broken into a thousand pieces at the bottom of the chasm. How long had they managed to hold on for before the pain became too much and they let go, leaving their palms and finger skin behind?

I was about to find out.

Standing beneath the first pipe, I gently tapped it. There was no steam currently surging through judging by the chill it carried. I almost facepalmed when I made to climb aboard without thinking.

“Idiot,” I muttered, slipping off my top and tearing it apart. I wrapped the strips around and around, padding my hands.

“Oy!” Gutrender snapped as my insulated mittens grasped on to the frame.

I monkeyed my way out, carrying the momentum forward with each swing.

“Burn ‘im off!” yelled the goblin king.

I heard the hissing release of opened valves and the joints across the frame started to spurt clouds of steam indiscriminately. Trickles of boiling water started to stream down into the abyss.

Even with the layers of fabric between my hand and the pipe, the heat started to radiate through from my compressive weight and my skin started to burn. I forced the agony away, taking the brief respite between swings to maintain my composure. Each grip ticked up the temperature by a couple of degrees, and by the time I was nearing the other side I could feel how mobile the skin of my palm was. The liquid beneath the blister moved around as I grasped on, the nerve endings screaming. I was two pipes away and my resolve started to fail. My brain begged me to let go, to not grab the next pipe, so I screamed at it to shut the fuck up. I felt both sacs burst, soaking the linen with serum that made my precarious grip almost impossible. On the final swing, I felt the entirety of my skin tear free under my bandages, and I couldn’t hold on any more.

I fell into the waiting darkness.

The deadly descent was arrested by my underarms crashing into the other side, the impact slamming the rock into my chest. I started to slip backwards, and I scrabbled with my torn hands at the dust, my toes cutting themselves against the sheer face of the chasm. Managing to find a shallow groove, I stopped the slide and tried to draw a breath into my battered lungs. I was still in mortal danger, so I just clung there for a minute or two while I collected myself. The orcs were silent, waiting breathlessly for me to pitch backward into the depths. Testing the strength of my foothold, that was actually a toehold, I was able to push myself up slightly. Scraping back and forth on the ground before me with my skinless hand, I discovered a small divot. I slipped my fingertips into it and pulled, slowly, very slowly, inching up to safety. When I finally managed to get a knee over the rim, I hoisted myself over and slumped to the cold stone.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, trembling from the fear and pain.

“Bravo!” Alwyn cheered, “A reward is in order!”

She was talking directly to me, not the orcs, judging by her raised eyebrow. My quickslot bar and other abilities became active, and I gratefully took a health potion. The repairs were hidden beneath the bandages, and I sighed with bliss as the scorching throb abated. I wanted to cast my rat swarm on Gutrender, but I needed to pick my moment. They might do a bit of damage before he and his bodyguards put them down. It just wouldn’t be enough to make it worthwhile. My illuminated bar faded to grey as Alwyn reinstated the hex.

I climbed to my feet and met the gaze of Gutrender who seemed less enthusiastic than when I’d entered the gauntlet. “Open the doors then!” I ordered, drawing a twitch of his eye. “I haven’t got all day.”

The way opened itself, revealing a large, open chamber. The bare stone floor held no plates or anything to worry me. What had me hesitating was the series of small, dark holes all around the perimeter. They reminded me of the first matriarch I’d fought and how her offspring had caught me completely by surprise. I hadn’t seen a single sign of vermin since I’d been down here; no skulking shadow, no little poo pellets. I expected rats were a particularly crunchy delicacy for the orcish hordes and the little blighters never lasted long if they did scurry into the mountain. The arrows plinking at my feet pushed me inside, and the doors slammed at my back. The crowd jostled and fought for position as they followed my progress from above. I sensed an even greater excitement in the air, and that in turn set my alarm bells ringing.

“Tick-tock, softmeat!” Gutrender said, igniting a long fuse. “You’s still alive when it done, ya live.”

“When what’s done?” I asked, and wish I hadn’t.

The little wagons that trundled into view from a dozen holes were the size of radio controlled cars I’d played with when I was younger. Their little chimneys puffed as they rolled on, almost cute in their toy-looking way. That was until I noticed the packages that each carried, their fuses fizzing too.

“Oh shit!” I spat, trying to work out what to do. They had been released in a certain pattern that forced me to run away. I’d seen the damage the explosives could cause, and the orcs picking up hundreds of shields with little viewing holes didn’t fill me with hope. The first exploded, knocking me flat on my face. It hadn’t contained any shrapnel, but the next ones to blow sure did. I felt the slivers cut the air, dangerously close to my cowering form. They sang a tune as they ricocheted against the steel walls. Not that I could really hear it as the successive concussions nearly deafened me. The once clean air was filled with smoke from the filthy chemicals in the sticks.

The next group appeared before I was even on my feet, one right by the side of me. I picked it up and tossed it across the room where it blew up two of the others. A smile formed on my lips and I picked up another, tossing it up into the crowd. The orcs bleated in terror, trying to push their way clear, but it was far too late. Various bits of orc and armour splashed and crashed into the arena. I hit the deck in a safe spot just as the rest detonated. A couple of slivers embedded in my lower legs and I bit down on my lip to divert attention from the pain.

I jumped up again, running towards Gutrender’s platform. A hundred bows were trained on me, and he shook his head slowly in warning.

“I just wanted to share then fun!” I explained.

The furious goblin king ordered the next wave, which had twice the amount of its predecessor. I quickly worked out their routes, realised I had nowhere to go, so I did the only thing I could; I picked up two of the orc shields and turned them into a shell at either side of my body. Kneeling down, I pulled them in as tight as I could to myself. I was still exposed on two openings, but it was my only play. The cracks of explosion battered against the steel, knocking me around like a ship on a stormy ocean. I felt the shrapnel pepper my body, and cried out in pain. The blasts subsided, and I breathed in the acrid smoke. Laying the heavily buckled shield down, I looked up groggily at the timer and almost fainted with relief when the fuse sputtered out.

In a daze, I staggered towards the next door, picking shards of black metal from all over my bleeding body. Alwyn once again unlocked my abilities, and the desire to change into a bird and fly away was almost overwhelming. In the back of my mind I knew all that would be left of me would be an arrow riddled, half-transformed abomination laying dead on the ground. Using the shadows between rooms, I healed myself in concealment as much as I could.

I stepped through, ready for the next trial.

Two more hours of jumping, dodging, hurting, and healing passed in a blur. Much the same as the deserters, the effort put into the further rooms was far less intensive. The greenskins never imagined anyone would ever make it that far.

Standing before the exit, I hammered on the door. “I’m done! Get me the hell out of here!”

Gutrender’s twitching eye was working overtime as he ordered it opened.