“Is this what it’s like to be in a dungeon?” Peter whispered. “All dark and spooky like this?”

“Oooooo, spooky,” Paul whispered back in a creepy voice. He angled his lamp below his chin, giving himself a ghoulish look. “They’re coming to get you, Peter.”

“Oi, don’t even joke about that,” the other guard said, looking over his shoulder at the tunnel behind them. Beyond Drestra’s forceball light, the passage became a thick wall of endless darkness. “Last thing I want’s for some monster to come sneaking up behind us: Ravener-spawn or not.”

“And that’s how it’s not like being in a dungeon,” the Sage’s voice crackled through the dark, startling both men. “In a dungeon, we’d either be under attack by now, or we would’ve just fended off an attack so Ravener-spawn could surprise us with another one.”

Peter and Paul’s eyes widened.

“Hey, remember when we were arresting folk for brawling, drunkenness and rotten eggs?” Peter asked Paul.

“Oh those were the simple days, weren’t they? Paul said. “None of this endless monster shit.”

Drestra paused, looking at Peter. “Rotten eggs? You arrested someone for rotten eggs?”

“That’s a bit of a story,” he said.

“Then it’ll have to wait,” she said, turning back to the darkness of the tunnel. “Even if this isn’t a dungeon, you said there were monsters down here?”

“Oh, aye, there were monsters,” Paul said. “Or so they said. “Beast-goblins. And there were a lot of them.”

“I wonder what they eat down here,” Peter whispered. “Maybe mushrooms, bugs and such.”

“I think they’d like a nice flank off a loud guard.” Paul smirked.

“Then they’ll go for you first.” Peter retorted. “You’re fatter than me. More tender.”

“Shut up you, you’re embarrassing us in front of a bloody Hero,” Paul hissed.

Drestra didn’t mind their talk. The more distracted they were, the more opportunity she had to examine their surroundings for clues…clues they might miss. She just wished she knew what she was looking for.

The tunnel reached into the earth, always curving to the left like it was slowly spiralling downward. The walls were surprisingly smooth and felt like a dungeon in some ways: it didn’t feel hand carved, or naturally worn by the passage of time or water, it looked more like it had been shaped through magic, or even divinity.

“Do you know anything about these tunnels?” the Sage asked.

“Uh, anything specific?” Paul cut off another whispered retort he was about to give Peter.

“Did your commanders say whether or not these caves were natural?”

“There was a bit of talk about that,” Peter said. “Most think the Traveller herself carved them with her power, but others think the wall texture might’ve been from the dungeon that formed here.” He made the sign of Uldar over his chest. “Thank the Traveller that she destroyed the monsters, even in death. If a horde of Silence- spiders attacked Alric—”

“—there’d be no more Alric,” Paul finished. “Lots of people who were fleeing to the ships would’ve been killed too…”

He paused, and Drestra could feel him struggling with something he wanted to say.

“Er, you said you had dealings with the Generasians?” Paul asked. “Did you spend a lot of time down there?”

The Sage frowned, her attention shifting to the two guards, sharpening to a razor’s edge. Slowly, she turned to face them, reptilian eyes narrowing. Tension grew, both guards seemed to notice; their movements tensed as they met her gaze.

‘Are they digging for information?’ she wondered. ‘How much do they know? Are they part of a bigger plot?’

Her mana flared.

‘Are they supposed to be pretending to guide me, but are really here to silence me?’

Drestra counted the steps between her and them, calculating whether she could get a spell off before they lowered their spears. If magic failed…

Her eyes measured the ceiling height.

Too low.

No way for her to—

“Well, it’s probably a long shot, but…” Paul cleared his throat. “But since you’ve met with folk from that big, fancy place…I was wondering if you happened to come across a young Thameish lad by the name of Alex Roth?” He sucked in his gut. “Tall, gangly fella. Likes bad jokes and thinks himself clever.”

Drestra stared at the pair, confused.

“Or a young woman named Theresa Lu,” Peter added. “Dark hair, ferocious look on her face most of the time, like a bear that’s been stung by a nest of bees.”

“Has herself this big, scary, three-headed dog,” Paul jumped back in. “Friendly to most, but he’s a bear-killer. About the size of a pony.”

The Sage continued to stare at them, her jaw dropping behind her veil.

“Oh! Oh! And they’d have a little girl with them.” Peter raised a hand like he was trying to catch the teacher’s attention in church school. “No older than ten…no wait, maybe she’d be twelve by now? By Uldar, has it already been more than a year? In any case, have you met any of them? I figure at least the dog would leave an impression. They’re from our town and—”

“Wait, you’re from Alric?”

“Born and bred, the both of us,” Peter said with pride. “Anyway, that bunch was going—”

Drestra suddenly burst into laughter so hard, both guards jumped a foot.

It had the sound of dry twigs snapping.

‘Oh for the sake of reason, Drestra! Come on, really? A plot? These two? She remembered how they’d reacted in the priest’s office when the Generasians were mentioned. ‘You must be losing your mind. You can’t start jumping at shadows!’

The Sage kept laughing at herself—almost delirious with relief—she doubled over with one hand on a knee, and the other holding her fluttering veil in place.

The two guards were looking at each other in the way folk often do when confronted with a strange and unpredictable creature. They took a few steps back.

“Uh,” Paul cleared his throat. “You uh…you alright there, Holy Sage?”

“I’m fine, forgive me,” she apologised after a few more moments of uncontrollable laughter before she could finally straighten up and wipe tears away. “Apologies, I might’ve caused a cave-in, laughing like that!”

“Oh, this tunnel’s stable, Holy Sage,” Peter said. “It’s just…you know…infested with beast-goblins. A lot of beast-goblins. And maybe a lot of other monsters.”

“And I might’ve attracted them all?” Drestra asked, suddenly feeling light. Giddy, even. To think she’d been frightened at something so simple! “I must apologise again. I should’ve kept more control over myself.”

“Oh, uh well…I guess we all need a good laugh sometimes?” Paul offered, in the sort of gentle tone one might use if they were questioning another’s sanity.

“Yeah, I mean…maybe we just said something that would be a funny joke to someone from Crymlyn Swamp,” Peter suggested. “There’s no accounting for the humour of strangers. Er! Not to say, you’re a stranger, Holy Sage, or anything—”

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Drestra waved her hand, turning back toward the dark tunnel ahead. “And could you hold that thought for a moment?”

“Oh, sure,” Paul elbowed Peter in his ribs, shooting him a hard glare. There was a slight clink of armour against armour. “Did we offend?”

“No, I just need to concentrate,” Drestra said lightly, preparing to chant a spell. “We’re about to be attacked, after all.”

“Wait, what?” both guards asked as one.

Screams were their answer. From around the corner ahead, a horde of beast goblins tore past a jutting wall shrieking and howling like the Ravener itself was behind them. They charged straight for the Sage and guards, eyes wild, and fangs bared, starved for blood and flesh.

They were instead offered their fill of lightning and flame, and the relieved laughter of a half-delirious Hero.

###

“You hear someone laughing?” a guard accompanying the Chosen whispered. “Sounded like a ghost.”

“Maybe it’s the Traveller’s spirit or some other lost soul trapped down here,” the other whispered back. “Oh, Uldar guard our spirits.”

Ahead of them, Cedric fought to keep a straight face realising that there were smaller tunnels connecting the passageways, since the delirious laughter coming from the right, was being made by Drestra’s crackling voice.

‘Be bloody well more believable if it were a ghost,’ he thought, gripping the haft of his morphic weapon. ‘Didn’t think she could even laugh, never mind like that…’

His brow creased.

‘Matter of fact, ain’t it more believable that it’s a bloody ghost? Mimickin’ her bloody voice?’ he thought.

His expression was grim as he offered a silent prayer to Uldar and felt the holy energy spreading over his weapon, sheathing it in divine power as he watched.

‘Callin’ on him don’t feel natural like it used to,’ the Chosen’s spirits were low. ‘At least he’s still lendin’ me his power, even if he’s up t’somethin’.’

Cedric raised his spear and walked cautiously into the dark, poised to strike ghosts or anything else lurking there with his and Uldar’s power.

Hart paused, listening to laughter echoing in the distance. Behind him, the two guards drew their swords and slammed down their visors.

‘Huh,’ the Champion thought. ‘Drestra’s finally gone mad. Well, it was just a matter of time I guess.’

Shrugging, he continued leading his escort into the darkness.

The Sage dusted off her hands while stepping over piles of beast-goblin and agarici bodies. The latter were colossal, lumbering, humanoid-like fungi with shocking power behind their blows: blows that felt like they came from a sledgehammer, but were still no match for Drestra’s own power.

“Well, would you look at that,” Peter lifted his visor, gaping in amazement. “Almost feel sorry for those bloody Ravener-spawn that have to face you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Paul poked one of the smoking mushrooms. “I’m just glad I was behind all that magicy stuff, and not in front of it.”

“It looks like the beast-goblins were feeding on the agarici,” the Sage noted stepping past the last corpse. A glance at one of the mushroom-creature’s sucker shaped ‘mouths’ revealed a scrap of something green clinging to it. “Or maybe it was the other way around.”

“Well, now worms will be feeding on all of them, if we leave them here,” Paul said. “When we get back, we’ll put in a request to have them taken away. The air could turn nasty if we leave them rotting down here.”

“They already stink, ‘can’t imagine how bad it’ll be if we just left ‘em,” Peter’s nostrils flared.

“Let’s move on,” Drestra said, ready for what came, monsters or whatever else they might uncover as they kept going.

“Right you are, Holy Sage,” Peter said, following her down the tunnel, his lantern held high, candlelight dappling the walls.

Irritation flared. That ‘Holy Sage’ business had been irritating even before she’d learned that this whole thing could be built on a foundation of secrets and lies.

Now, it made her want to heave.

Drestra,” she corrected the guard.

“Mm?”

“No need for all that ‘Holy Sage’ business,” she said. “Just call me Drestra.”

The two guards looked taken aback for a moment.

“Alright, Hol—Er, Drestra,” Peter finally said. “After what you just did to those monsters, I’d call you ‘queen’ if that wasn’t probably treason. Is that treason, Paul?”

“How should I know? Paul sounded mildly annoyed. “Anyway, no one’s going to be around to hear you creep out Drestra when you call her ‘queen’, so go right ahead. Call the powerful mage weird names, mate. Just let me step back into the tunnel about a hundred paces or so.”

Drestra gave another crackling chuckle as they walked along. “Oh, that reminds me, I did meet a Theresa Lu with the Generasians and, indeed, I met her boyfriend: Alex Roth, and her big dog Brutus! I haven’t met the little sister, though.”

“Well that’s—Wait, boyfriend? Hah!” Paul chuckled. “Well it finally happened, did it?”

“What finally happened?” Peter asked.

“Oi, what good is a guard who has less eyes than sense,” Paul glared at him. “Those two’ve been making goo-goo eyes at each other for years.”

“Well, Paul, unlike you, I don’t go paying attention to every teenager in town making goo-goo eyes at each other! Now who’s the bloody creep? Maybe I should be stepping a hundred yards away from you. Anyway.” He smiled warmly. “Good for those two. Glad something positive came out of all that mess. Theresa’s mum and dad told us that the four of them went ahead so Alex could reach that fancy magic university. Hah, nice to hear he’s having a good time. He deserves it since he got such a bloody rough birthday gift.”

“Hm?” Drestra cocked her head. “Birthday gift?”

“Yeah,” Paul grunted. “The boy has the worst luck. First there was what happened to his mum and dad. And then the Ravener comes back on his eighteenth birthday, right as he gets his inheritance. Got fired too, but I think that might’ve been his own doing!”

“Oh?’ Drestra frowned. “Fired from wha—”

Her mind ground to a halt.

“Wait… When did you say his birthday was?”