Within the confines of the coliseum, there was still one competitor who didn’t quit the field. Still collecting and separating grains of sand, Caphida student of the Crimson Summit crawled along the ground. Streaks of blood could be seen leading up to his current position as he toiled away at his task. In the entryway stood that same woman in red robes with the extended cuffs. The cuffs met in the middle of her torso as she stepped forward into the arena proper. She spoke to Caphida in that same raspy a carton-a-day voice.

“Why are you still doing this?” asked Keola Ash. The Late Morning ranked student of the Crimson Summit and official leader of the school here in the Crystal Cascade. Caphida didn’t respond and just kept counting. She was soon joined by the other student who was in attendance to offer an explanation.

“Honored teacher, he works as a man possessed. Caphida just keeps counting grains of sand,” explained the student said.

“And if there were no sand?” Keola asked beginning to give off waves of heat in a very recognizable pattern for all the students of the Crimson Summit. That is when the one explaining the predicament ran for the doors. The area around Keola’s feet began heating up. The sand around her melting into a red-hot slag. She poured on the heat traveling around the arena at incredible speed then stopping before Caphida. His shins were now covered in a sheet of white hot glass and his fingertips were blistered. That did manage to stop the bleeding from his legs. In a matter of minutes she turned the arena grounds into glass.

Caphida stood for the first time in hours. He was exhausted and wobbly on his feet. He looked at Keola and bowed his head while cupping his hands. Then Caphida reached down to remove the glass from his legs until Keola stopped him.

“Ten years at my feet before you’ll ever earn a new rank. Five for the humiliation the school has suffered and another five for me saving you from your fate. Am I understood?” Keola asked.

“Yes instructor,” was all Caphida said.

Cyrus Cullep was almost done packing his belongings. His personal carriage was outside awaiting his arrival. He would take his precious things to lake house. There he would begin the second phase of his plan. Cyrus didn’t understand why the champion didn’t stay dead or how he managed to summon that damn dragon. None of this mattered to Cyrus as he had many plans within plans. The inevitable pounding on his front door began.

“Cyrus Cullep, you are hereby charged with crimes against the crown. Come quietly and you will be treated fairly,” came a voice from outside.

Cyrus just scoffed at the notion he’d be treated fairly. He knew that he’d be dragged to the dungeon and quietly executed. Cyrus had seen to that same fate for many of his rivals. The gathered Inquisitors outside were just an act of theater for the citizenry. No this time he prepared a little surprise for those who came for him.

“Now would be a good time son,” Cyrus called out.

Screams could be heard from Cyrus’s office window. The ringing of steel was followed by the sickening thud of a bodies hitting the floor. Cyrus closed the dimensional bag at his side after putting the last of the rolled velum within. He’d have to read while they traveled. This High Priestess Ruby had some interesting theories and plans in motion he doubted Efimeo truly understood. If she was to bring about a new age of slavery for the Vasilly Empire, Cyrus would not be caught in that net. He needed to understand his sons connection to this group of lunatics. Hopefully, he would be able to extricate him from within.

Out in the courtyard stood two winged monstrosities. One each had one black wing and one white wing. Strangely enough they were on opposite sides from one another. Between them stood a wingless humanoid with the same cloth covering his face. He was shorter than the two with wings but still had the stretched out limbs covered in taught muscle. This one had a tail that ended in spade tip.

“Are we ready to go now?” Cyrus asked as he stepped over the bodies of town guards and Inquisitors alike.

“What about the woman?” asked the tailed Efimeo. Cyrus’s lover stood in the doorway clutching a bag in horror at the sight before her. Cyrus just climbed in through the carriage door and turned to speak.

“She meaningless. Do whatever you want with her,” with that he slammed the door shut and instructed the now freed driver to go.

Several days later the Deep Dweller caravan had stopped at a quaint mountain town on their trek east. They were stopped for provisions. Deacon decided to stretch his legs and Sophie insisted on going with him. It was like that for the last few days. No matter which carriage Deacon would switch too, Sophie would end up in there with him. He would have to bring it up very tactfully in conversation.

“So what’s your deal? You just going to keep following me around now?” Deacon asked realizing he blew the whole tactful thing.

“No. It’s just. I feel safer with you is all,” Sophie replied sheepishly.

“Bullshit. Most of the bad shit that’s happened to you lately was because I was around. Would you like to try again?” Deacon shot back.

“I have a bad feeling. Ok. Call it woman’s intuition.” Sophie said.

“Story of my second life. I guess third now. We left the capital behind. We are finally on our way to the Shattered Sky. We’ve had several days without incident. Maybe, just maybe, we’ve caught a break in the madness,” said Deacon. Almost as if the universe was waiting for him to say it, a horn blew from the other end of town. Small black arrows began raining down over the walls of the mountain town from the eastern side. All the members of the caravan pulled an assortment of weapons. Typhus ran up to Deacon huffing and puffing.

“You are not going to believe this. I don’t believe this. It shouldn’t be possible,” Typhus spat out between breaths.

“Out with it man.” Deacon said as Sophie laced her fingers within his.

“Goblins. Not just any Goblins. These seem to have dragonfly wings. I’ve never seen anything like it. My shadow self was scouting the pass for us. They have set up a fortification several hours up the mountain.” Typhus said catching his breath as the rest of the Regulators joined them.

“So what? We smash some goblins and continue on. This should be a breeze for us,” Deacon commented.

“He doesn’t understand,” Sophie interjected.

“Deacon, there haven’t been goblins seen on the surface since the war in the Underdark. They should not be up here. Never mind flying versions.” Ralph added straitening his armor.

“How bad could it possibly be?” Deacon asked as he crested the top of the wall to see a tightly packed group of goblin flyers colliding off of each other in the air. Every now then they would fire small crossbows at the wall. It didn’t appear anyone was hurt, and they were coming in fast. Deacon took an unnaturally deep breath. Then he blew out a twenty three yard cone of green gas that engulfed all but one of the Goblins. Their bodies started dropping out of the sky as soul energy raced back along the gas into Deacon’s open mouth. The last Goblin turned tail and flew back eastward. His Phantasmal Breath had ended the current engagement. The rest of the Regulators just gawked at him.

“What?”