The Dark Deep Below

Jarad lay sprawled across his bed, his bloated frame making the wooden cot creak under his weight. Though large for a goblin’s quarters, the room still felt cramped around his hulking body—although, in all fairness, even ogres thought Jarad had gone a bit too far with his physique. He snored loudly, oblivious to the world around him, his arm wrapped around a grog he had brought from Kalad. 

Upon receiving the critical quest from General Akrumei, Jarad quickly brushed off the eeriness of standing before his people's conqueror and told the goblin princess, whose name he had now surrendered to the grog's effects, that that useless Ronai was hers to command before being accommodated in his quarters.

From then, he had utterly entrusted the task that pesky goblin general had given him to his extremely observant and zealous subordinate. Surely, he would do just fine or die in the attempt... Either way, it killed two horned rabbits with a single stone.

PAM. PAM. PAM.

A booming knock pounded on his door.

His eyes snapped open, groggy and irritated. 

"Gnaaarg, who is it...?" he complained, burping.

Before he could even sit up, the door burst open, nearly ripped off its hinges as two goblin Keshig—elite warriors of the Khanate—stormed in with their weapons drawn. Jarad scrambled to sit upright, scratching his eyes in confusion as he threw the bottle through his window.

Following close behind the Keshig, a figure strode in with a presence that filled the room with authority, making Jarad experience firsthand what it meant to be sober instantly.

General Akrumei, the famed conqueror of Kalad, entered with an air of cold calculation. His dark armor glinted in the dim light of the chamber, and the green of his skin seemed almost shadowed beneath his sharp gaze.

Jarad's heart leaped into his throat. Every ogre, from the mountains to the lowlands, had heard the tales of his conquest. The general’s brilliant mind had shattered the mighty Kaladian army, taking the cities in the crestlands one after another.

Standing in his presence once would make any ogre experience a wave of emotions: Insecurity, frustration, anger, fear...

Doing it twice on the same day, with the second being half-naked... on your quarters?

He wanted to rise, to greet him properly, but the shock of Akrumei’s sudden arrival left him scrambling for words. "G-General Akrumei, it's an honor, I—"

Akrumei cut him off with a sharp hand motion, his eyes narrowing. “Please,” the general said, his voice a low growl that silenced the room. “I am not here for pleasantries, Paladin.”

Jarad felt the weight of those words like a punch to the gut. He swallowed nervously, unsure of what to say next. The general stepped forward, his boots thudding against the stone floor as he loomed over the ogre.

“I’m displeased,” Akrumei continued, his tone cold. “Princess Mesui, and your subordinate, have failed the mission I gave them.”

Jarad blinked, taken aback. “Failed, sir? But I—what did they do?”

Akrumei's eyes burned with irritation as he crossed his arms. “They escaped,” he spat, “through a tunnel that leads to the catacombs beneath Makeb’s old city. They fled in the dead of night, along with the masked girl and that human in red.”

Jarad’s stomach twisted. 

Akrumei’s glare cut into him like a blade. “I expected better from them, and from you, Jarad,” he said, his voice hard.

"Me?" The ogre shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing for a response. "I—I had no idea, General. I swear, if I had known, I—"

Akrumei silenced him again with a wave of his hand. "Do not make excuses. I don't care for them. What I want now is for you to fix this." He leaned in closer, his tone icy. "Find them. Bring them back to me, you will take your kin with you and enter the old city at once, understood?"

Jarad gulped, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew there was no refusing Akrumei. Not if he wanted to stay in the Khanate’s favor.

“Yes, General,” Jarad finally said, his voice hoarse. “I’ll find them. You have my word.”

Akrumei straightened, giving a curt nod. “Good. See that you do. I won’t tolerate failure. My men will escort you to the ruins' entrance” Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, his Keshig following in his wake.

Jarad sat in silence for a moment, still stunned. Then, anger surged from his cold feet to his head, his forehead's veins tensing up.

"That... murky little... hothead..." He muttered, "I'll kill him!"

He grabbed his paladin cowl and his blunt blade, storming out of the room. 

******

The tunnel was a blend of natural stone and ancient ruins, its uneven walls alternating between jagged rock and weathered carvings. Time had eroded much of the architecture, yet the remnants of carved pillars and faded symbols hinted at a long-lost civilization that once thrived here. The air was thick with dampness, every breath carrying the scent of moss and dust. Dim torchlight flickered against the cavern walls, casting long shadows over the stone. They moved in silence, their footsteps echoing with a strange rhythm that seemed to meld with the faint rumble beneath them.

Arsec, though his shoulder still throbbed with a dull ache, walked steadily alongside Ronai. The red flames that once flared brilliantly from his body had dimmed, now a mere ember that pulsed softly where punctured wounds were. He flexed his injured arm, testing it, though the pain reminded him of the earlier clash every few steps.

Ronai nudged him with his elbow. "You good?"

Arsec gave a faint smile, rolling his shoulder slightly. "I'll recover. Just need time."

"Yeah, well, I don't know how much punishment humans can take, but I bet a lot given that spear pierced you right by the heart," Ronai quipped, though there was a hint of concern in his voice.

Arsec smiled, "We can't take too much, I think... it's all thanks to the Red Flame."

"Hmm..." Ronai replied.

"You're a big guy, have you been injured before?" Mesui asked.

Ronai blinked as he tried to remember, "I think so, maybe I've been hurt by Little Ronron several times..."

Mesui and Arsec looked at each other.

Ronai rolled his eyes, "It's my rhino steed, us ogres have a kindred spirit to our rhino mounts."

"The same way we goblins do with our boars, aw!" Mesui commented, elated, "Makes me miss my boy so much right now, goblins are not made for narrow passageways."

Arsec grinned, "Didn't you take me to hunt down a rhino a few days ago—"

His words were caught off as Mesui punched his wounded shoulder with her bow. Arsec recoiled and trembled in pain.

"Y-you hunt rhinos?" Ronai said, shocked.

Mesui was lost for words, trying to hide that fact, but then Arsec lifted his finger as he recovered.

"A-actually, they eat them—Hey stay away!"

The three cubs joined Mesui as they jumped on Arsec's face and began scratching his face.

Ronai's face was filled with disgust, "E-eat... them...?"

"Arsec! Shut up!" Mesui said, "Master Ronai, it's not the rhinos you use, that's for certain! These are woolly and come from the far east to graze in the steppes..."

Ronai gave a small, yet unsure smirk as he decided to keep walking behind Samina's guiding steps.

As Arsec, scratched and bitten by the cubs all over the face, slowly regenerated thanks to little embers, Mesui looked at him with menacing eyes.

"You..." she hissed, "why would you do that?"

Arsec simply shrugged and smiled, as his goblin friend rolled her eyes and kept walking.

The cubs grimaced at him, and Arsec giggled. He then saw Narwa pass, looking at him with curious eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"Just wondering, do you like pain?" She asked without hesitating.

"What?" Arsec repeated.

"You like putting yourself in threatening and painful situations... willingly," she then looked at Mesui and Ronai ahead of them, "...at times even unnecessarily."

"I don't like pain," Arsec clarified, "I'm just having fun teasing her."

"Hmm."

Arsec expected her to say, "Disgusting," but the moment never came; she simply kept walking.

"Don't fall behind, Stinky," she said.

"Yes, yes," he responded, clearing his hair and examining his face, "Right behind you."

Ahead, the tunnel began to widen, revealing a set of ancient stone steps that descended into a vast, open cavern below. The cracked and weathered steps wound down into a chamber stretching endlessly in all directions. As they descended, the full scale of the place became clear. The floor was littered with toppled pillars and crumbled statues, their carvings nearly erased by time. Massive stone blocks, etched with symbols now nearly indecipherable, lay scattered like forgotten relics from another age.

Ronai stopped to examine one of the statues adorning the area, followed by Mesui and Arsec. His eyes widened in confusion and realization.

"An ogre...?" Ronai said, seeing that the statue displayed a horn on its forehead and a similar frame to his.

"Mesui did mention that Makeb used to be an ogre city," Arsec said, "And you were... rather shocked at the suggestion..."

Ronai's eyes filled with confusion, "I wouldn't say shocked... But it's just that our records—they don't show any indication of ogre migration to the steppes..."

"That's because this is an antediluvian settlement," Samina commented, glancing over the shoulder, "Check the writing carved in its cradle."

Ronai tried to read its inscription, but he shook his head, "What is this writing?"

"Wait... Why is it so similar to old goblin writing?" Mesui said, her eyes widening.

"How much have you forgotten your history?" Samina said, turning around, both curious and a bit shocked, "Ogres and Goblins—"

"Share the same ancestry?" Ronai finished the sentence as he glanced over Mesui. The goblin princess didn't know how to react to the ogre's observant eyes, and she giggled and shrugged, "So you were right, princess."

"W-well, it's not that I was right, it is something Akrumei happened to tell me while briefing us, it's not like we pride ourselves on our relation to ogres and orcs every day while sharing fermented milk."

"O-orcs?" Ronai asked.

"I was going to add them to the list, yes." Samina cleared her throat, standing tall as she raised her hand in a poised gesture of declamation, her voice gaining an air of authority. "Ancient attestations show that the further North these migrants went, the more they were shaped by their environment."

Arsec leaned to Narwa as Ronai glanced at the statue's face before walking forward.

"Poor guy, I feel like everything he took for granted is being shattered right now, makes me regret saying we ate rhinos back in the Tulag camp."

"Well, I truly enjoy rhino meat, especially the hind meat," Narwa said as she walked by Arsec.

"I'd go for the ribs if you grease them with a bit of their fat and add steppe coriander, oof..."

"You two shut it or my cubs will scratch that face and that mask to no end," Mesui threatened them, her cubs hissing, bristling their fur.

"I'd like to see you try!" Narwa said, ever defiant.

"Yes, I'm sorry," Arsec nodded with a grin, grabbing Narwa's shoulder, "We're sorry."

Mesui sighed and turned back to Samina, "So that means goblins have used a version of ogre writing?"

"Archaic ogre writing," Ronai noted, "We don't write like that anymore."

"Indeed, that alphabet has been lost to the ogres of the Crestlands." Samina continued, "I believe orcs either write goblin or write in another type of writing, but it is quite esoteric and poorly regulated, I can hardly understand what they mean."

"Erm... Samina, I have a question, what do you mean by antediluvian?" 

Samina was about to respond, but then Ronai stepped in. 

"Don't you know?" Ronai said, "The Great Flood, the Downpour from the Skies?"

Arsec shook his head.

Ronai was about to describe it when the rumbling became too intense to ignore. Added to it, there was now squealing and growing beneath the deep shaking.

"I guess we should deal with that first..." Arsec said, "We can talk history at another time."

Ronai sulked, "I-I guess..."

"Let's hear it over breakfast in the morning!" Mesui proposed.

"Assuming we come out by morning, I feel my sense of time already slipping just by being this deep underground," Arsec complained.

The deeper they went, the more intense the rumbling beneath their feet became. It reverberated through the stone, sending shivers up their legs with every step. By the time they reached the cavern floor, the sound had grown into a low, beastly groan that echoed from the far side of the chamber.

There, at the far end of the cavern, a massive badger creature was relentlessly clawing at a blocked tunnel entrance. Its huge paws scraped against the rubble with frenzied energy, desperate to clear the stones that barred its path. The ground trembled with every frustrated strike as the beast let out a low, guttural growl, its focus entirely on the obstruction before it.

The group stopped at the bottom of the steps, staring at the creature in a mix of awe and wariness. The cavern stretched out beyond them, with countless other tunnels leading off into the unknown, but the badger's attention remained fixated on the blocked passage. It was immense, its fur matted and dark, its claws tearing at the stone with futile determination. After a few scratches, it raised its body on two legs and let out a screech that reverberated across the large area.

Ronai shifted uneasily, his hands on the hilt of his swords. "That thing looks like it's about to lose it." 

"Why is it looking to clear that entrance, that is solid a rock," Mesui noted, "I'm no miner, but that looks like it needs some explosive of some kind, not the claws of a beast." 

"Doubtless, it is the cause of the rumbling and strange noises we heard back in the Library's entrance," Samina said, looking around the large area.

"You don't say, genie," Narwa said.

"I wonder," Samina lifted her hand softly, and the glowing crystal in her hand hovered above them, intensifying its light. The party saw the area clearing, and the once foggy, myriad tunnels now revealing themselves to be dug holes—filled with moss and bones.

"We're in this badger's den," Narwa said, looking at the holes in the cave wall, stepping in front of the group, "that beast is a wilderkin."

"What?" Mesui said.

"Only wilderkin defy their animalistic nature to form social groups, badgers are not social," Narwa explained, "Be alert, those holes are nests, that means there might be more of them."

"How do you know these things?" Samina said.

Before anyone could move, the badger turned, its massive bulk shifting as it faced the group. Its dark eyes gleamed in the ethereal light, and for a moment, it seemed like it might charge. A low snarl escaped its throat, and it took a step toward them.

"Ok, now it's losing it..." Ronai said, unsheathing his swords, stepping forward as Arsec and Mesui readied their weapons.

Narwa stepped forward, raising her hand. "Wait!" Her voice cut through the tension.

Everyone froze, their eyes darting between Narwa and the creature.

"What are you doing?" Mesui whispered, gripping her bow.

Narwa kept her gaze on the badger, her expression softening. "Don’t attack it," she said firmly. "It’s not dangerous."

Ronai blinked in disbelief. "Not dangerous? That thing is trying to tear through stone—"

“It’s a wilderkin, meaning that if it's tearing through that rock it means there is something there for it,” Narwa explained, stepping closer to the creature. “Besides... this one's a cub.”

The others watched as the badger, still growling softly, seemed to hesitate at Narwa’s approach. It huffed, lowering its head slightly, its massive body still tense but no longer threatening.

Arsec, still nursing his shoulder, looked at Narwa with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “A cub…?”

“It’s just trying to get through. It doesn’t know what else to do," Narwa said.

Narwa nodded. “Look at how it’s focused on that tunnel. It’s not here to fight us—it’s trying to find something..." 

Her mask glowed as she touched the badger's head. She concentrated, closing her eyes for a moment until they popped back open in full realization. 

"...or someone...”

The badger snuffed at the ground, pawing at the stone once more, though with less aggression than before, as if begging Narwa, the one in the room understanding it, to help with the wall somehow.

"Samina? What are you doing?"

Narwa saw herself illuminated by a beam of light, coming straight from the diamond the genie spellsword projected.

"So-sha-nim..." She said, her eyes furrowed, even wary, as she did not take her eyes off the masked girl, "I had my suspicions, but it is clear, Stoaty-girl here is a revenant."

"Samina, back down!" Arsec said, panicked.

"My lord, you stay back, she's dangerous!" Samina said, frantically.

Narwa growled as her eyes gleamed at Samina with icy, wildfire. The veiled genie stared back with equal fury.

"A revenant?" Ronai repeated, now directing one of his swords at her, "That's impossible."

"Wait, wait!" Mesui begged, "Samina, you don't understand, she's been our ally ever since we left the southern steppes!"

"Impossible, Revenants are unrelenting servants to the Verdant Fang, they only exist to perform specific, twisted tasks given to them by their god, their unconditional master."

"That monster is no god of mine!" Narwa yelled.

"As if I'd believe that! The fact that you are not sleeping under the ground means that you are still serving him!"

The badger, sensing danger toward its new friend, stepped forth and growled.

"See?" Samina said, "She's turning the wilderkin against us!"

"Anything to finally put you down, filthy magic abomination!" Narwa defied her, her hands bursting into icy flames before turning into her paws.

Samina did not wait, she immediately commanded her crystal to fire a bolt of violet magic that plummeted straight into Narwa.

Mesui sensed and barely glanced at a red blur moving quickly into the scene unfolding, having mere moments before she fully grasped what was happening.

"Arsec, no!"

The bolt closed in, but at the last second, it veered—exploding into the ceiling above. The cavern trembled as smoke filled the space. When it cleared, Samina’s eyes widened.

Arsec stood between her and Narwa, spear raised, the magic deflected. His arms trembled, veins glowing with the remnants of violet energy, teeth clenched against the searing pain.

"A-Arsec!" Narwa said, her fiery power shut down by the boy's sudden appearance.

"I'm good," he said, as he brushed off the glowing magic still pulsating by his sides, "I'm glad I made it in time."

"Why?!" Narwa complained, "I could've taken her shot and be done with it!"

"No one is fighting here," he said calmly.

"But..."

"No one," he turned to face Samina, "Narwa has been a friend ever since we met her, despite her background, she's no longer a servant of this Verdant Fang."

"That's impossible, they don't have a purpose!" Ronai said, "Every time they finish their task, they simply go back to the shadows of the murky depths they came from."

"And she resisted this!" Arsec said, "Her purpose now is what she makes of it, she's free."

"My lord," Samina began, but Arsec's hand stopped her.

"She's free, Samina, I understand your concerns, but her powers are now her own, not her masters."

"But..."

"I will stand for her, and vouch for her, even fight for her, as that's what she's been doing for me all this time."

Narwa was taken aback and looked away, crossing her arms.

"You'll stand for her...?"

As Samina watched Arsec slightly struggle against the pain, her heart twisted in ways she could not explain. The violet energy from her bolt still pulsed through his arms and hands, and every tremor in his body reminded her of the damage she had caused. It was not supposed to be like this—none of this was.

For months, she had dreamed of him. Seen his face, heard his voice, felt his presence long before they ever met. She had interpreted those visions as prophecy, proof that he was meant to be hers—her champion, her destined liege, chosen by the fates. She was supposed to guide him, protect him, and lead him into greatness. But now, mere hours after they’d crossed paths, everything was crumbling.

Her grip tightened and the crystal gleamed intensely, knuckles pale as her emotions churned. He was turning away from her, shielding Narwa, that revenant—a revenant. It was impossible to understand. The vision had shown him by her side, fighting for her cause, yet here he was, standing between her and that thing. It gnawed at her, twisting like a cruel joke.

How could this be? After everything she had seen, everything the fates had foretold, how could he choose someone else? Worse, how could he defend a revenant—one of their enemies? Why her?

The thought struck deep, filling her with a sharp, bitter ache. This was supposed to be her moment, her destiny unfolding as it had been promised in her dreams. But instead, it felt like everything was slipping away, like the prophecies had betrayed her. Was it all a lie? Or worse—was she the one who had misunderstood?

Her eyes flickered to Narwa, that monster in a stoat mask, standing behind Arsec, her icy gaze never wavering towards her,  but weakening as she considered Arsec. Samina’s chest tightened with fury and... something else. 

Jealousy? It seemed absurd, but there it was, curling in her stomach. He was supposed to be hers, to protect her cause, her destiny. And yet here he was, defending this abomination instead. Had he already cast her aside?

Her dreams had foretold glory, triumph, and unwavering loyalty, but now all she saw was chaos, betrayal, and confusion. She had known Arsec for mere hours, and yet the weight of those dreams—the promises she believed in so deeply—felt like they were crashing down around her. She had been so sure of her path, of their path together. But now...

Why her? Why not me?

The fire in her heart roared, but doubt crept in like a cold shadow, whispering that perhaps the fates had never intended for her to lead him after all.

"Samina?" Arsec called.

She blinked, and the crystal above dimmed its light. Her heart ached as she almost involuntarily bowed.

"So-sha-nim, if that is your wish, I will not attack the Revenant anymore."

Arsec let out a sigh of relief.

"She's no longer a revenant, Samina, she's a friend!" Mesui said.

"We'll see..." Samina whispered, unconvinced, as both her and Narwa's eyes met one last time and shared their mutual hatred.

"You too Ronai, relax," Mesui said, touching Ronai's forearm.

The ogre lowered his sword carefully, considering both the goblin and the human until he sheathed his sword.

"Well, it explains why she's been wanting to brawl ever since we met," he said, with a smile.

"Huh?" Narwa said, offended.

Mesui giggled, "Yes! That describes her perfectly! She's always trying to fistfight Arsec whenever possible!"

"For real, they must've fought four times while they were jailed."

Arsec was about to smile, but he felt a heavy presence behind him that sent a shiver down his spine. Narwa was about to snap, but not because of Samina.

"Eh... guys, please let's not joke about that," Arsec said, "Or I'll surely die this time."

Mesui smirked mischievously as he considered him, and Arsec regretted bringing the rhinos up earlier.

Ronai, however, had diverted his attention toward the crater the bolt had formed.

"So, Samina," he said, "I wonder if you could launch a concentrated beam of that same magic toward the rock this... gigantic cub is trying to tear down."

Everyone looked at Samina, who shook her head at the notions that plagued her head and raised her hand at Arsec, Narwa, and the badger.

"We can try it, yes," she said, "Stoaty girl, move or I'll burn you to ash."

Narwa's eyes lighted up in fury, but she was grabbed by Arsec and pulled away, barely giving her time to convey instructions to the cub, who stepped aside.

Samina's crystal launched one bolt, which made a small hole in the rock after a small blast.

Ronai ran his hand across his head, "We had to try—"

BOOM. BOOM. BOOOOM.

"Samina?" Arsec asked.

The genie quietly launched a spray of bolts at the rock, causing it to crack until they all heard the sound of many rocks crumbling.

She looked at Narwa and smirked, "All I had to do is think you were there."

Narwa growled at her before being cut off by Arsec.

"Enough, look!"

When the dust settled, they're eyes lighted up upon seeing a way through. The badger cub, especially, rejoiced and licked Narwa before heading in.

"Come on!" Mesui said, "That wilderkin knows where to go!"

Samina directed her crystal at the entrance, lighting up the path ahead, and everyone went through. 

Ronai was the last one to leave, and as she looked back at the many empty nests, a foreboding feeling filled his mind. He was too troubled with statues and internal conflicts with the party to analyze his surroundings, but now his eyes furrowed as he began to wonder... 

Why was the wilderkin alone?

******

Jarad marched alongside his ogre warriors, their heavy footfalls resounding like a drumbeat on the uneven cobblestones of Makeb's outskirts. The flickering light of the torches carried by the two Keshig escorts illuminated the narrow alleyways, casting wavering shadows on the ancient stone walls, which seemed to close in around them as they neared the entrance to the sewers. The oppressive dampness of the old city lingered in the air, and the faint scent of rot, mildew, and stagnant water grew stronger with each step.

In the distance, the looming mouth of the sewer system awaited them, a dark, yawning passage that seemed to swallow all light. Jarad could feel the weight of Akrumei’s presence behind him, his ever-watchful eyes making the ogre painfully aware of the razor-thin margin for error. Akrumei wasn’t a commander who dealt in second chances, and the Keshig captain’s silence had only deepened the tension. The entire march had been nothing but the echo of footsteps, with nothing but the sound of dripping water and the distant hum of the city above to accompany them.

Finally, as they stood on the cusp of the tunnel that would lead them into the underbelly of Makeb, Jarad couldn’t contain his frustration any longer. His voice, deep and rough, broke the silence like a crack of thunder.

“How?” he growled, glaring at the Keshig who led them. His broad shoulders heaved with barely contained anger, the flickering torchlight casting sharp shadows across his face. “How could four people—Mesui, Ronai, a human, and that masked girl—slip past the palace guard, head out here, and crawl into the sewers? How does that make any sense?” His voice reverberated in the narrow tunnel, the suspicion in his tone clear.

The Keshig did not answer. They remained stoic, their faces cast in shadow until their captain glanced back with a steely gaze. “They went through here.”

“It doesn’t add up,” a scarred ogre muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “There were patrols. Guards posted at every exit. Not to mention, the sewers aren’t exactly easy to get to. They had to go through half the city undetected. Doesn’t sit right with me.” He spat on the ground in frustration, his distrust palpable.

Another ogre, the youngest of the group, chimed in, his voice tinged with nervousness. “And the girl—what about her? She’s not from around here. How’d she know where to go? She's just like us! Even if she knew the way, would you not take advantage of that and simply flee the city?”

Jarad nodded, his thick fingers tightening around the hilt of his blunt sword. The unease that had been gnawing at him since they received this errand grew heavier. Every instinct in his body told him something was off—something they weren’t being told. The way Akrumei had brushed aside Mesui and Ronai’s failure, the casual way he’d ordered Jarad and his men to pursue as if all were a routine task—it all felt wrong, especially the fact that he was there because of Ronai.

"Should I tell the general that you are unwilling to comply?" the Keshig warrior said, furrowing his eyes.

Jarad grunted, and he nodded to his men, "We go forward."

"Good," the goblin said, "Go down until you see the old city's entrance, it is impossible to miss: Two giant rhino statues guard the gateway. You may start your search there."

Jarad signaled a torch ogre to move into the tunnel, and he followed with the rest of the group.

They descended into the bowels of the city. The crumbling steps beneath their feet slick with moisture and moss. Each step echoed faintly, the sound swallowed by the oppressive stillness. The air, thick with mildew, seemed to cling to their skin, growing heavier the further they ventured. It stank of rot and stagnant water, a damp, choking scent that made it hard to breathe. The torches flickered weakly, their flames feeble against the growing darkness. Water dripped rhythmically from cracks in the stone, the constant drip, drip, drip adding to the suffocating tension. The sound mixed with the shuffle of boots as they trudged deeper, the oppressive silence almost daring them to speak. But no one did. Not yet.

As the steps wound down, narrowing, they finally opened into a massive chamber—a cavern of such enormity it swallowed the torchlight, revealing only glimpses of its scope. Jarad’s eyes widened at the sight. This was no ordinary sewer. The ceiling stretched impossibly high, lost in shadow, and the ground beneath them, while natural at first, gave way to something ancient and ruined.

Scattered across the floor were the remnants of a forgotten civilization. Broken stone pillars lay like toppled giants, their once-proud forms reduced to crumbled debris. Some stood half-intact, reaching up toward the darkness, their surfaces covered in faded carvings, glyphs that hinted at a time when this place had been grand, alive. Intricately chiseled blocks of stone littered the ground, some cracked and broken, others completely eroded by time and the slow trickle of water. What might have been walls were reduced to half-standing ruins, their purpose lost to the ages.

Despite the destruction, there was an eerie sense of order—a stillness that seemed too deliberate, as though the ruins themselves watched the intruders.

Jarad's eyes narrowed as his gaze fell upon the entrance to the old city proper. There, at the far end of the cavern, two massive stone statues loomed, watching over the darkened path ahead. They were carved in the shape of mighty rhinos, their stone hides detailed and lifelike, though worn by centuries of decay. Time had not been kind to them—their once fierce expressions had softened into weathered, unreadable masks, their eyes hollowed out by erosion. But they stood nonetheless, eternal sentinels guarding a forgotten world.

Jarad slowed his pace, his breath catching in his throat. His ogres followed his lead, their movements stiff and hesitant. They scanned the cavern with unease, their massive frames hunched as if the weight of the place itself was bearing down on them. Something was wrong here. The air, thick and stale, seemed to vibrate with a sense of old magic, something long buried but not dead.

The old ogre finally broke the silence, his deep voice trembling with uncertainty. "Should we even be here?"

His question hung in the air, unanswered at first. Another ogre, usually boisterous and unafraid, swallowed hard and muttered, "This place... it's cursed."

The words hit harder than they should have. Jarad felt it too, deep in his gut—a primal instinct screaming that they should turn back, that this was no place for living beings. But pride and fear of the general behind him kept him moving forward. The weight of Akrumei’s cold eyes pressed down on his shoulders, and he could not show weakness. Not here, not now.

Jarad took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to suppress the growing sense of dread. He had led men into battle, into dangerous territory, but this—this felt different. There was no enemy he could see, no foe to fight. Just the oppressive presence of the old city, whispering of things best left forgotten.

But Jarad pushed forward. "Keep moving," he growled, his voice low and harsh. He could not afford hesitation, not when Akrumei was watching.

As they neared the entrance flanked by the rhinos, the air grew thicker still, the silence now pressing against them like a weight. The path into the old city lay ahead, dark and foreboding.

Jarad heard sounds on his back, a cloud of whispers and distorted words.

"Quit whining," He snarled, 

"High Paladin, we haven't said anything... it's, it's this place..." the youngest ogre said.

He gulped and lit his own torch, casting a brighter light over the ancient carvings. As they moved deeper into the ruins, the whispers grew. Soft at first, like the wind, but soon they grew louder, more insistent. They didn’t sound human—or goblin, or ogre.

Suddenly, moans surged from the darkness ahead. The torches lit up shadowy figures emerging from the depths. Dozens—no, more than that—goblins, all dressed differently. Some were in the garb of peasants, others wore the armor of warriors, and a few were clad in finery like nobles. But every one of them had blindfolds tied across their eyes, the cloth adorned with a single painted eye in the center.

Their voices became clear. “Cy-cloth... Cy-cloth...” They chanted in unison, their pace quickening.

Jarad’s blood ran cold. “Cursed murk...”

Before he could give an order, the goblins surged forward, swarming his ogres. The warriors roared in defiance, swinging their massive weapons and hammers, smashing the blindfolded attackers to the ground. But for one they cut down, more appeared, and the sheer numbers overwhelmed them little by little.

Jarad stumbled back, heart racing as he tried to assess the chaos. His men, mighty as they were, struggled under the onslaught. They called out to him, their voices pleading. 

"High Paladin! What should we do?!"

But he stood frozen. Years of drinking, ranting, and idleness had dulled his instincts. He wasn’t the Paladin he once was. His body, heavy with grog and years of indulgence, felt slow, sluggish. His mind spun, unable to grasp the situation. Jarad's eyes darted as sweat ran through his eyebrows and neck.

"High Paladin!"

And then he saw it—the only path of escape lay deeper into the ruin. His heart pounded with fear, not for his men, but for himself. His survival instinct took over, and he turned, ready to abandon the fight, to flee into the depths.

But as he moved, he came face to face with something far worse than he could have imagined.

From the deep shadows of the ancient ruin, a form began to emerge, slowly at first, like a nightmarish specter dragged from the recesses of a forgotten nightmare. It wasn’t a simple creature; it was a being of immense, primal presence. A spider-like monstrosity, towering over Jarad, its grotesque body glistened with a layer of coarse, bristling hairs that shimmered faintly under the flickering torchlight. Each leg was long and spindly, ending in jagged, razor-sharp points that scraped the ground with a sound like nails on stone. Its movements were unnervingly deliberate as if it enjoyed the terror it instilled.

But it wasn’t the creature's hulking body or its deadly limbs that captured Jarad’s attention. 

It was the eye.

One enormous, singular eye dominated its face, an orb of incomprehensible size, its sclera as black as the deepest void. At its center, a slit iris glowed with an unnatural, sickening white light. That light pulsed rhythmically, almost hypnotically, casting a strange, otherworldly gleam that seemed to suck in the very air around it. The cavern dimmed compared to that foul illumination as if the world recoiled from the creature’s very presence.

Jarad,  a high-ranking Paladin who had once been a beacon of life to his people, now stood utterly paralyzed. His muscles refused to obey his frantic commands. The sheer, suffocating presence of the eye locked him in place as if the creature had seized not just his body, but his very soul. His breath caught in his throat, his chest heaving with mounting panic, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. His heart thundered, every instinct screaming for him to run, to flee this nightmare.

Yet all he could do was stare.

The eye gazed deep into him, as though it sought something beyond flesh and bone, beyond the mere essence of his mortal form. It was searching, peeling back the layers of his mind, probing his darkest fears and most hidden desires. Jarad’s thoughts began to unravel, one by one, until his mind was nothing more than a chaotic blur of images and sensations. All sense of time, place, and self dissolved under the eye’s overwhelming stare. The world around him, the damp ruins, the sewers, his men—it all faded into a blur of insignificance.

The light from the creature’s eye began to swell, its white glow intensifying into something far more grotesque. It wasn’t just a brightness—it was a foul, invasive force, slithering into his consciousness like a living thing. Jarad gasped as it took root inside his brain, twisting his thoughts, and reshaping them. His vision flickered, his reality warping as something else—something terrible—pushed itself into his mind.

In an instant, he was no longer in the cavern. Instead, he saw visions, flashes of twisted, alien landscapes. His perception was drawn to a singular, haunting image—a pale, almost angelic figure suspended in a sac of transparent, organic matter. It was beautiful in a way that defied comprehension, its smooth, porcelain skin glowing faintly, its body curled into a fetal position. Strange tubes and veins pulsated around it, as though this being was cradled in some otherworldly womb.

Jarad’s heart pounded in his chest, but not out of fear. Against every shred of reason, every ounce of logic, he felt a pull toward the figure. A deep, unshakable yearning gripped him. 

He wanted to free it. 

Needed to free it. 

The compulsion was overwhelming, drowning out every rational thought he had left. His lips trembled as the vision grew more vivid, the sac pulsating with life. He knew nothing of this creature, this strange, ethereal being, but an irrational desire consumed him—a need to release it from its prison.

The word rose unbidden from his throat, a whisper that carried the weight of an ancient, forbidden power. “Cycloth…”

The name felt alien on his tongue, yet it came with an eerie familiarity, as though it had been waiting in the depths of his mind all along, just waiting to be called. The word was the key. The eye pulsed brighter, the world around him buckling under the strain of its malevolent light.

Then, without warning, the light erupted, flooding his vision with its sickly, overpowering glow. His body convulsed, his mind shattered under the weight of the being’s will. Jarad tried to scream, but no sound came out. The light was everything now, burning through his very soul, warping every corner of his consciousness.

"Cycloth! Cycloth!" he muttered, steadfast.

Back on the surface, the two Keshig who had escorted them paused at the tunnel entrance. One of them turned to the other with a grin, eyes wide with a sudden, manic gleam. The other coughed, a shudder running through his body before they both steeled themselves and continued their vigil in silence.