In a stone archway recessed in a mountain wall, there bloomed red and purple light. A figure barely reaching five feet tall emerged from the portal. He was covered head to toe in robes with a hood. On his hip hung a finely crafted mallet etched with slowly pulsing runes. The figure stepped into the light of day and blocked the suns rays with one hand. All around it him Goblins bowed their heads. The mysterious figure found himself in a wooden fort with mountain peaks on either side of a well-worn path.

“Bring me to him,” commanded the figure.

He was led into a poorly dug tunnel in the right side of fort. The walls were strewn with entrails and ritual circles drawn in blood. After a few minutes of walking he was led to a cave with cages and a table with a Deep Dweller strapped to it.

“Master, you honor me with your presence,” Pumus the Witchdoctor of Hipag said as he bowed deeply at the waist. The Deep Dweller he was standing over had two cauterized stumps below both knees. His face was bloody from multiple abuses, and he was missing fingers on his left hand.

“Is this the Bloodbeard that is giving you so much trouble? Tell me what you have learned,” ordered the hooded guest.

“Apparently the dwarves in the city called Shattered Sky frequently fall to infighting. They have created a stone council of five dwarven families. This one is part of the lowest rated family. The people have begun increasing their navy in an attempt to claim more land on other continents but it’s in the early stages. Their port brings in valuable trade opportunities which is necessary since the precious metals in their mines are almost depleted.

They have one heavily guarded entrance to the Deep Cavern they use to access these mines. Above the city are floating islands connected by railways. That is where the Gnome race calls home. Seems they sequester themselves due to the volatility of their experiments. I didn’t really understand that myself. The sky islands were once a part of the nearby mountain side. The Gnomes developed a method to separate large chunks of the mountain to create small floating towns,” Pumus explained doing his best to not loom over his master. That was lesson hard learned many years ago.

“You learned all that from this one Dwarf?” the guest asked.

“No, from the others we captured. This one has yet to break no matter how many pieces of him I feed to the troops. I suspect his body will give out before his will. I beg your permission to sacrifice him to Hipag. At least the time spent will not be wasted,” implored Pumus.

“I think not. We are leaving to prepare for the assault from the Deep Cavern. If the path is as heavily guarded as you say, I will need you with me to help control the Berith. You have ten minutes to make preparations. How many warriors are in this fort? Remember we only need to hold this pass long enough to slow any reinforcements from the Griffin Kingdom. That’s it. By the time any real force makes it to the Shattered Sky we’ll already occupy the city. Even their precious port will be under our control,” replied the guest.

“One hundred and fifty vat Goblins and three vat Orcs. We lost our Black Guard Orc in one of the village raids. No real loss in my opinion. I’m ready to go now,” Pumus responded.

“You bastards will never succeed! We’ll murder you all!” screeched Daskus Bloodbeard from the table.

“Now the Dwarf wants to talk,” Pumus mused.

The guest pulled down it’s hood exposing his completely smooth facial features. He had yellow eyes, and his pale skin was streaked with green coloring. Staring at Daskus he lifted one finger and jabbed it into an open wound on his side.

“Hairless Dwarf bastard!” screamed Daskus as the finger dug further into his wound.

In a dark corner of the cave deep inside one of the ever flickering pools of shadows hid Typhus’s shadow self. He learned from his attack on Pumus last time that going after him would just get him dispelled by one of those talismans. A Dwarf from the old stories showing up made securing Daskus and getting him out here almost impossible. Luckily, Typhus was already on his way.

“I can see the caravan. They aren’t far ahead of us now,” Ralph shouted back to Deacon who had Tantus riding piggyback.

“Giddy up, Deacon!” Tantus hollered before getting dumped on his back side.

“How about you use that spell of yours to zip up there and tell them to slow down so we can catch up? They are in an awful hurry,” Deacon said as he kept moving.

Tantus just shrugged and cast his spell. He quickly shot past Ralph who was ahead of the group. The road was still dusty from the caravan’s passing and Tantus began to cough. This close to the mountains the road went over rolling hills and grass lands with only the occasional tree dotted here and there. Tantus just about made it to the last wagon before someone on the wagon called out a halt. All the wagons slowed to a crawl except the one in the lead. It kept moving at a blistering pace. Deacon and the others finally caught up to the caravan in the next few minutes.

“What’s the rush? We were barely gone two hours?” asked Ralph through panting breaths.

“Typhus got word that Daskus is being held prisoner by the Goblins and he ordered us to double time it. He grabbed that tattooed lady and the poison mistress and took off in your wagon,” answered one of the Deep Dwellers.

“Ten hells! How long ago was this?” Ralph questioned hoping onto the wagon followed by the rest of the group.

“About twenty minutes,” replied Earl Tirebrook.

“Catch up when you can. I think my future-self warned me about this. I have to catch up to them,” Deacon said before leaping from wagon to the next in the chain. He landed on the canvas rooftop of one before bounding off and jumping to the slat wooden roof of the next. Three jumps and he was at the front. The carriage he was looking for crested the next hill and began to disappear down the side.

, Deacon knew using Spectral Jump wasn’t going to cut it. So he needed more speed. That meant four legs. He jumped off the leading carriage and searched internally for that feeling of being a small worm on a big hook. The transformation was easier this time only he found his visions split into eight and his momentum forward all but halted. His legs hit the ground with loud thuds, and he could feel a difference in temperature between his body all eight of his legs. His face pushed forward through a portal, and he could see the mountain pass, the fort, Typhus snapping the reins, and the road far below him.

“Shit, I took the soul of that Dungeon Boss. Shit, how big am I?” Deacon asked himself as he pulled his enormous body into this world fully.

Typhus was now having trouble controlling the horses pulling his carriage as the looming Plane Weaver Empress came closer. Sophie jumped up on top of the carriage and began hurling magic swords from the tattoos on her forearms. They sailed through the air at the hulking monstrosity before their target disappeared in a burst of orange light. Far below it was a ram with purple horns trotting after them.

“It’s Deacon!” Sophie screamed to Typhus.

“Of course it is,” replied Amanda who just popped out of the carriage followed by Alfred.

“That creature seems impossible,” commented Alfred.

“Definitely Deacon. Tell him to hurry up we are running out of time.” Typhus answered.

As Deacon caught up with the carriage he changed back and used Spectral Dash to close the distance. He made a mental note to check his slate for any details about that boss monster. Primeval Alpha Shift had to have a list somewhere of the things he could turn into. Then Deacon remembered the description of the dungeon boss. It had Alpha in its designation. He would have to be more careful in the future. That one changed ate up fifty percent soul energy out of his three hundred percent max. That was the equivalent of a Greater soul. The second highest just under a Deific soul. Shape shifting into that should be saved for really big problems.

“I’m up to speed. How far out are we?” Deacon asked as he was helped up into the carriage.

“About ten minutes away from the pass according to Typhus,” Sophie answered.

“What in the ten hells was that giant spider thing?” Amanda asked.

“The corrupted dungeon, long story. I’ll tell you about it later. What’s the plan?” Deacon queried after giving his answer.

“There isn’t one. He said he’d take a page out of your book and just save his brother,” Sophie responded.

“Let me talk to him. I think, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, that’s a bad idea. What he’s just gonna drive up to the door and tell them to let him in? Nonsense,” Deacon said before climbing back outside the carriage to reach Typhus.

“They’ve been torturing him, Deacon. I’m gonna kill every last green skinned animal in that fort. You hear me, every last one!” screamed Typhus.

Deacon didn’t know what to say. He doesn’t have close family members in this world. Just his friends. Was this what he warned himself about? What did he say exactly? Tyhpus must stay strong.

“Typhus. Do you trust me?” Deacon asked.

“How is that relevant right now?” shot back Typhus.

“Because I got a really good look at the fort when I was that giant spider. There may be a way to get you into the fort without you carving through every Goblin in there. I have a plan,” Deacon said squeezing Typhus’s right shoulder with his left hand in an attempt to reassure him he wasn't alone.