“Ironclad Lord, most fearsome of fighters, and bringer of change. We beseech your aid on this dark day to deliver us from the evil that has beset us on all sides. With mighty strikes, we plead for you to smite this evil. With cleansing flame, we pray for your fire to engulf us with holy fury. Honored Lord Gratiax, the master of fire and war, grant us your strength. May our souls burn bright in the holy cauldrons of thy forge.”

- Prayer to High God Gratiax, Overseer of Fire and War

Their search only halted when the sound of distant whistles and war cries echoed from the valley below. They had followed what little blood remained to a makeshift trail that headed up to the High Wall, passing by a small stream that streaked its way further down the mountain. The two shared a look and knew what the cries meant. The goblins had finally launched their assault on the caravan.

“Who knows how long they were watching us cross this stretch of land. Traveling near thick tree lines such as these always held inherent risk. But the fact that the greenskins were just waiting, a clear sign a hob or orc has taken charge of their tribe.” Taurox growled in displeasure, “For now we can only hope we accomplish our task fast and that the rest of them can push through. May they be blessed by the stars.”

“Blessed by the stars.” Sophie murmured in agreement.

The minotaur rubbed his fingers against the ground, his eyes scanning the terrain until he stopped facing towards the north.

“Here, they went here.” Taurox said.

“How do you know?” Sophie asked.

“Pay attention, look here. What do you see?”

Sophie was agitated, but contained herself enough to squint down at where Taurox was pointing. Yet, in the brief moment of contemplation she failed to understand, she was looking down at dirt.

“Time to for a quick lesson, little elf. See here? Look closely, the ground is not just disturbed, but slightly muddy.”

“That means…they passed by here, considering we had to cross that stream earlier.” Sophie replied.

“Correct. And it offers us a modicum of hope, there was pressure in these tracks, the greenskin is injured, not just that. See over there?” Taurox pointed slightly ahead, “A heavier step was taken.”

Sophie just looked blankly at the sight, unable to comprehend his message.

“Grah, you younglings don’t think enough. A heavier step, means that the orc didn’t need to just support his own weight, for his gait would’ve stabilized a while back even if injured. Judging by the bloodstains before, the injury was not grievous or life threatening, an annoyance perhaps.” He snorted dismissively as his eyes met her still confused gaze, “Which means our annoying compatriot is currently unconscious and being carried, forcing him to readjust his position.” He finished and stood back up, towering over Sophie once more.

“So we have a chance?” She let out a small whisper.

“Aye, we have a chance. Now let’s keep going, bastards can’t have gone far.”

With a huff of her own the two pressed forward, though Sophie couldn’t help but view the Blademaster with a little more suspicion. If something ever goes wrong with the church, I have to make sure no one else gets involved. I don’t know if I could get away. Since the start she had a few doubts about the inquisition. They had after all come originally to have her hunted down, only barely avoiding that fate by Viktor’s judgment. As long as I don’t turn against them I’m fine, but just what would even be that red line? At what point will they think I’m beyond saving. She shuddered at the thought of what might happen should she reveal the full truth of the events in Melisgrad to Mila or Taurox. Knowing full well that, if they sent a report back, she would likely be condemned as a heretic.

A frosty chill settled around her once more, dragging her from her doubts and steadying her course. Right, focus on saving Aryana first, it's what a knight would do, to be heroic. And I…I am the lily knight, and a maid, remember to focus, focus! Sophie tugged the minotaur’s warhorse forward, the oversized creature neighing in dissatisfaction before obliging and trotting along with her.

The minotaur halted them just behind a bush, the horse acknowledging his motions and dipping his head whilst Sophie edged a little closer. Holding a finger to his lip, the minotaur looked at her before pointing down the path. To her horror, she found a windy makeshift stairway heading to the mouth of the cave, the orc holding Aryana’s unconscious form over his shoulder. A few dark green goblinoid creatures scrambled out to gawk before the orc shooed them away. Seeing her goal, her muscles poised to move when the minotaur firmly gripped her shoulder, holding her down.

“Slow down.” He hissed.

“What?!” She almost yelled, “Why? She’s right there. If they get in then…”

“If we rush them now, there’s a chance he just runs inside and alerts the rest, losing her for certain. If we go in quietly, there's a chance for us to catch up still.”

Sophie hissed back at him but didn’t argue, he was right, of course, there was logic behind his words. But, what Sophie saw still sat uneasy in her stomach, Aryana is right there, we can save her now!

“But…” She muttered with grit teeth.

“In time, we shall purge this place. For now we wait. Once they head inside, we’ll take down the guards and enter with surprise still on our side. Have faith.” Taurox said.

Sophie sighed quietly but obeyed, though she did wonder how the minotaur could be stealthy considering his massive frame. Her eyes wandered back over to the cave and winced. The orc carrying Aryana barely fitted through the door, the poor girl’s body slamming into the wooden panel before she got through. The goblins excitedly yammered away whilst trailing their orc, save for two of their number who looked furious that they were the ones left outside.

Impatient, Sophie turned to the minotaur who only held up a single finger before pulling out a small signet ring and walking back to his mount. For a moment nothing happened, but then the ring emitted a barely noticeable yellowish glow that matched a sigil carved onto the warhorse’s armour. With a nod, the minotaur turned away and went back to observing the cave entrance. But, without any other words or prodding, the mount quietly slipped away down the path towards the caravan.

“Curious?” Taurox asked without looking away from the goblins.

Sophie stopped herself just short of nodding, but the minotaur grimly grinned.

“Divine magic, blessed and created by the arcane forge masters of the Argent Curia. Acts as a sort of tracking magic for our mounts. When activated, our rings serve as a beacon for them, within a certain radius.”

She leaned back, slightly amazed at the potential of such devices being so casually used for mounts. Yet her wonder lasted for no more than a second before she heard the sound of wooden clatters. Her gaze shifted back to the two goblins, the two dark green creatures smacking their shields against each other in either some bizarre ritual or boredom. Regardless, when she turned back to the minotaur he only nodded, now we act.

Taurox gestured for her to go around the left and she complied, trying to silently crawl through the foliage above the makeshift stairs without alerting them to her presence. To her shock, when she dared to glance backwards she found the minotaur strolling casually down the stairway, each creak of weakly held together wooden board echoing loudly into the night sky.

The goblins quickly squeaked to attention as they stared in awe at the appearance of the armoured shaggy beast that quaked the very ground ahead of them. The two dark green figures instantly stilled, mesmerized by the strange sight when Taurox nodded up to the air at her. Panicked but willing, Sophie quickly rolled out of the brush and landed smack dab on top of one of the sentries, flailing around her sword in an futile attempt to slash the other.

Shocked or perhaps just too surprised, the goblin barely got ready to shout when the minotaur dashed forward frighteningly quickly and in a single swoop cleaved the creature in two. Acting on instinct, Sophie quickly righted herself, drew her blade and plunged downwards. Muffled gurgles escaped the goblin’s lips before its ugly crooked nose breathed its last. The small dirty body twitched only slightly in its death throes.

Letting out a small relieved sigh, she took solace in the fact that the goblin bled dark blood, far darker than any humanoid, and allowed her to pretend that she didn’t just take another life. Focus, must save Aryana, no one else dies because of me. She turned to the minotaur who seemed to approve of her quick, if clumsy, but successful takedown. The two steadied themselves and the minotaur moved towards the door, Sophie following close behind.

She sucked in one last breath and tried to recall her days back at the estate, the breathing exercise she did everyday before her duties had started. One breath in, one breath out. In and out. Just like before Sophie, just gotta focus. Penning up her emotions for later, she recalled how she had separated her maid duties from her mind, a pitiful attempt to think less about the scoldings and beatings she received from Hilda. But it had worked before and it would work now. She felt a frosty sensation run down her spine and when she opened her eyes again, she gave the minotaur a firm look, she was ready. Just like before, work first, emotions later.

The minotaur pushed the wooden door open, each creak adding another little bit of dread as it pierced the silence. Sophie gripped the sword just a little tighter. Hold on Aryana, we’re coming.

The cave was dark, surprisingly so considering the torches that lit up some of the walls. It felt like, every time they turned a corner, the light from the previous torches would seem to dissipate, leaving only a dark corridor until they reached the next lit section. The cave was mercifully dry despite the humidity in the air, ensuring that Sophie could at least lean against the walls without having to try and ignore the feeling of wet sleeves the rest of the night. The downside was there were still plenty of little critters that unnerved her. From the glowing creatures that sporadically hung around in clusters from the ceiling, to spiders the size of her face that almost made her piss herself. Not only did it bring back the awful memories of how one crawled all over her in the Mistveil, it was far larger and therefore far worse. Even Taurox had seemed disgusted and Sophie could only pray that there were no more larger arachnids within the cave system, even if she had a sickening feeling bubbling up within her stomach.

The hideout itself was some poor attempt at recreating surface life, with all sorts of hallways leading into a branch of halls that all had small sleeping quarters carved out from the cave itself. Little doors had been shoddily attached and, whenever they moved to check within, Sophie worried that the next creak would be their last as the sounds echoed throughout the cave. For now however, she sat content in letting Taurox open most of the rooms before he slaughtered the inhabitants within with rapid precision. It was chilling watching the minotaur work, she knew he was formidable, peerless even in his dances against orcs and undead alike. But, to see him so casually disposing of an entire colony of greenskins still made her realize that he wasn’t just a master of blades in a duel or combat. He seemed perfectly poised to be an assassin as well.

Pest removal, Sophie remembered him calling it, the duty of slaughter made trivial by how quickly they searched down the corridors. Thankfully at least, all the killing seemed to suggest that they took Aryana further into the cave using only the main path, all the side branches up here being just more sleeping quarters for the goblins.

They headed down a series of carved steps, the sounds of drum beats from within the cavern growing louder the further down they got. She shared a look with Taurox and he seemed to agree, we’re getting close. A sickening thought stayed within her head. The idea of Aryana being strung up and sacrificed for some strange orcish ritual disgusted her. Another person I was supposed to protect, lost. She scowled and pushed the intrusive thought away, instead choosing to look at the strange effigies and symbols that gradually increased in number the deeper they went.

Some depicted a two headed demonic looking figure with gnashed teeth, its four arms wielding heavy blades of varying lengths. Others showed more scrawny goblins, hobgoblins, and their orcish brethren fighting against some unknown evil, the creatures wielding a fantastical array of makeshift weapons. But it was the last style of effigies that disturbed her, a large gelatinous blob looking monstrosity that stuck out a multitude of appendages much like the void monster. Behind the blob stood a deformed looking feline God with traces of orcish features as well, but there was no mistaking the depiction. It was Arantos.

Her blood froze at the sight, a slight lapse in her focus as her muscles twitched in anticipation of striking the effigy down. Not now, saving first. She calmed herself and continued downwards with Taurox, the two freezing as heavy footsteps echoed from ahead. Tribal beats of some shamanistic ritual slinked through a right side corridor, the two sharing a look. They’re definitely preparing for something, could be where they took her.

The two pressed their backs against the stairway and looked down into the hallway. A small procession of goblins carried a board with what looked to be a mutilated man spread in a star chained to it, his innards spilling out like some macabre fountain fixture. Ugly looking effigies dotted the sides of the board and even two hobs in full shoddy iron plate armour followed along, though curiously carrying what seemed to be ceremonial lanterns instead of weapons.

Sophie’s palm gripped the sword tighter but Taurox held up a hand to stop her before shaking his head. That man was already dead. Her mind raced as she tried to calculate how long it had been since they entered after the orc, and how much time would it take for them to dissect the poor girl. A quick gesture from Taurox snapped her out of it. His eyes radiated uneasiness and soon she understood why; they could either trace where the procession had originated from and hopefully save Aryana there, or head to the ritual room and pray they ended whatever dark sorceries were taking place hoping that the orc took the freshest victim there. But, not both.

Sophie just blinked for a moment, her mind running through the possibilities and only halfway realizing that Taurox hadn’t moved yet, he’s letting me decide?! To her horror her stomach churned at the thought of being responsible for her charge’s death should she choose wrong. However with a gulp and another deep breath, she nudged her head towards the ritual room. Into the maw we go. If it is a ritual, then the fresher the captive the better, hopefully we’re not too late.

The minotaur nodded in response and they snuck down to the hallway, making sure no goblins were following the procession before sneaking up a fair distance behind, just barely out of sight. Dank, barely furnished cave pathways were slowly replaced by more dug out and sophisticated openings clearly made by something more precise than the goblins. The ceiling here too was dug just a little higher than before, the minotaur crouching down a little less, the air a little bit more circulated, but not by much. The stench of blood, iron, mold and rock dominated her senses and only her desire to see this through kept her going.

A few goblins occasionally wandered in front of them but their soft squishy skulls meant nothing against the unstoppable force of the minotaur. Together they followed the path until they arrived at another split in the cave hallways, the sounds of tired groans and pained gasps echoed from a pathway below the intersection, the guttural sounds of bizarre mating rituals bringing a sickening rise of bile to her mouth. Not only were there more than one source of sound, some were even human like. Turning to her companion she saw the minotaur also stiffen up, his posture more predatory as a sneer worked its way across his face.

Yet it was seeing the hatred slowly build up in the minotaur that she also had another horrid realization of her own. Prisoners, sacrifices, Arantos, altars, rituals, and prisoners. This feels a little too familiar, a little too much like the recreation of what happened at the barrows, and the sacrifices…like what the people of Melisgrad were for the tower. Her heart slowly hardened with each sound or sight that assailed her mind, the connections slowly forming between the different occurrences, just what the hells is going on? Disgusted, she turned away to follow the minotaur when a series of pain screeches echoed below, the gut wrenching noise stripping away what little doubt she had left. Purged. This place needs to be purged before they can repeat the ritual, it needs to be purged and exterminated. With a new scowl etched onto her face, she readied herself.

The drums were now deafeningly loud, supported by a bevy of goblinoid voices throatily ringing throughout the cave. They were now surrounded with the husky echoes of a few far more prominent orcish voices. Anxious, Sophie adjusted the straps of her new cuirass, tightening the straps on her boots, with her hand nervously holding the sword as her muscles warmed themselves up for another round of combat. Pain, pain was the only feeling she could ever recall whenever she battled, pain from loss, from fear, and mostly from her own mistakes. The aches from beyond combined with those of her wounds and she felt the tension stretch her very body like a slime, her willpower spent holding herself together.

“We can only save one or the other.” Taurox whispered.

Sophie’s eyes shot up and she stared at the minotaur in confusion before the horrid truth dawned on her. If we save Aryana, getting her out would take all our effort much less having any manpower to spare rescuing prisoners seems unlikely. If we started a prison break, the confusion and chaos would mean they take the ritual elsewhere…saint damned hells!

“I know.” She solemnly whispered back.

The minotaur grunted in response and soon they emerged into an opening in the hallway. Just beyond lay a great hall, decorated with a ludicrous amount of trinkets, effigies and ornaments, most of which were made from carved wood or bones, from where she dared not find out. Surrounding them were six massive twisted stone pillars that held up this chamber, each surrounded by a pair of armoured hobgoblins, their short crudely sharpened halberds occasionally directed at their runtier brethren. Dozens upon dozens of little dark green goblins chanted out of sync whilst they swayed hypnotically to their own chant. They were guided by a pair of orcish shamans standing over what looked like an altar set upon a raised podium, their feathered bony outfits caked with the blood of countless sacrifices. Two slits on the side of the podium ran down into canals inlaid upon the hall’s floor, the little openings flowing red with the blood of the slain.

The chained man was next, the shamans squeezing his entrails as if they were cleaning out just another animal, pushing the viscous red blood down into the slits for it to flow into the little rivers. Just beyond the stage was an ornate stone throne, whereupon a scantily clad orc, protected by only a leather harness and strategically placed furs and whose body was riddled with scars, sat proudly, like a priest officiating a ceremony. Surrounding her were two other orcs clad only in furs and loincloths, each with a figure slung over their shoulders and large clubs in their other hands. Sophie’s mind blanked and she could only spare a glance with the minotaur, but the two were of one mind, there she was. The question now is, how the hells do we get her out of here?