The skeleton just stood there, fist to ribcage, motionless.

Ben, broken and bloody and having just been strangled nearly to death, could only gasp as he looked wide-eyed at the saluting skeleton. As he did, another sharp pain exploded in his mind, only this time it lasted for more than a fraction of a second - and it was painful tenfold.

Ben screamed in agony, feeling that his mind was being torn apart. He closed his eyes as if he could somehow turn down the incredible pain -

The pain was gone. The man opened his eyes, looking around him with hard, cold eyes. The hall he was standing in was a wonder of dwarven architecture, with huge marble pillars and wide majestic staircases. Dozens of dark-skinned dwarves stood around him, their weapons poised and ready, while dozens more stood on the balcony above, aiming crossbows and other ranged weapons.

The man cooly ignored the imminent danger and the hundreds of weapons that were aimed at his heart. His gaze settled on the figure of an old dwarf who stood nearby with his hands resting on the pommel of a huge battleax. “I have suffered your wizard’s… probing… for far more than honor demands, King Ghol,” said the man. “I trust that you are satisfied?” His voice, while quiet, was easily heard by every single soldier in the large room. Many of them exchanged dark glances upon hearing their own language spoken by the human.

The king - an ancient Duergar who had lived for hundreds of years, or so the legends said, kept looking at the man for a long moment, his dark eyes betraying nothing. His long and bushy beard was nearly as gray as his skin and he had so many wrinkles that it was hard to discern between his facial features. As old as he was, he was still wearing full plate armor, complete with a horned helm. The bloody broken arrow - the emblem of the Ironheads - was proudly painted on the chest piece of his armor and his ax was radiating an aura of exceptionally strong magic. The man had heard tales about this ax. There was little that scared him in this world, but facing that ax in battle was among his list of things that he knew should be feared.

King Ghol finally looked at another dark dwarf. This one was younger and had the customary wizards’ black robes. He was holding a staff of power and even as the man looked, the light faded from the tip of the staff. The wizard looked at his liege lord. “I cannot penetrate too deep into his mind, my king,” said the Duergar. “His mental defenses are too strong. I can, however, detect that he has no ill intentions toward us or ours. I would trust this… hero of the plains… but I would do so only to a certain degree.” The wizard bowed his head and took a step back, signaling that he had nothing more to advise.

The Duergar King settled his dark gaze back on the man. His voice, when he spoke, was as old as time. His speech was slow, every syllable clear. It was as if every word that he said was a blessing on the earth, and anyone who heard his words must count themselves lucky to have lived to be given such an honor. The dwarves all around straightened, holding their heads up, tightening the grips on their weapons. Many brought fists to heart in the Duergar’s version of a salute.

“They call you the champion of the forests,” said the king. “You are also named the hero of the plains. And I heard another title, naming you avenger of broken promises. Why have you come to my realm, avatar of the surface world?”

The man’s expression didn’t change as the king spoke. He looked neither smug nor contemptuous. He barely moved, but even his slightest motion - flexing the fingers of his right hand - caused an obvious stir in the room (one Duergar even gave an audible gasp, to his eternal shame). Then the man spoke. His words would be remembered for eons to come, then forgotten, until the day came when they would be remembered again…

“King Ghol. Noble Ironheads. I have come to complete my quest for power.”

Ben breathed heavily. The strange vision faded from his mind like smoke in the wind and for a long moment he wasn’t sure where - or who - he was. Finally, it was the pain - physical pain from his injuries, not the agony now gone from his mind - that helped him to come to his senses. As his mind cleared Ben saw that the half-skulled skeleton was still standing motionless in a salute and that the battle was still raging on. The hall was not magnificent and majestic like the one he saw in his mind, but broken and cluttered with debris, and skeletons were fighting his friends.

With a painful grunt, Ben pushed himself up until he was able to lean on his elbows and look around the purple-lit hall. Dismayed, he saw that the words he had spoken earlier had affected only the one skeleton; the fight with the other undead was still happening - and his companions were losing.

Red was a complete mess; the warrior fought valiantly, but even with his superior weapon and shield, and with Milenna to support him with her magic, he was no match for his three level-four foes. The undead fighters obviously remembered how to use their weapons and more importantly - how to fight in a war party. They flanked the mercenary, the ax and mace wielding fighters keeping him busy while the one with the flail darted in and used the long-range of his weapon to strike home. Their tactics proved deadly and Red was bloodied all over; to Ben, it seemed the heavily wounded warrior was fighting on pure will alone.

That the warrior was still alive was mostly due to Milenna, though. The sorceress retreated a few steps behind the combatants, blood covering her neck and shoulder. It seemed that her offensive spells were exhausted, but the resourceful woman was not done for; as Ben looked, she cast a spell and a blue glow briefly enveloped Red. Whatever the spell was, either a healing or a protective one, it kept Red on his feet a while longer.

Ben looked to the other side of the hall to see how Shiraz was faring - and his heart nearly stopped. The shadow mage, who used everything her new class had to offer and had successfully managed to harass the dangerous mage for a while - finally found out that her adversary was simply too powerful for her to fight alone. The creature wasn’t able at first to locate the shadowy woman and even suffered a few well-aimed shadow spells, but whatever damage he sustained was quickly healed. Then the mage used a sonic spell that sent a wave of damaging sound that spread from it in a circle - like a ripple in the water after you throw a stone. Shiraz was hit, lost her concentration and became visible enough for the mage to pinpoint her location. Before she managed to counterattack, the undead mage had released another spell. A huge purple fist materialized in the air and crashed down on the sneaky shadow mage, pinning her to the floor and holding her there immobilized.

Ben felt his panic rising upon seeing Shiraz lying crumpled beneath that magic fist. He had no idea if she was alive or dead, but the sight of her there drove him to action. His mind, while still overwhelmed by the strange vision, was completely clear now. He knew what he had to do.

The scout struggled to get up. He wanted to vomit but fought to keep his wits about him and did his best to ignore the pain from his injuries. Then he took a deep breath, cupped both hands around his mouth - and shouted with all the strength he could muster. The words, spoken in the foreign ancient language he somehow knew how to speak, were the same words he had used before: “Long live Ghol Ironhead! Long live the king!”

His shout reverberated in the wide hall and everyone - skeletons included - stopped and looked at him. For Red, it wasn’t a moment too soon - or maybe a moment too late. The ax of one his attackers was buried in his ruined leather armor and when Ben shouted, the warrior slumped to his knees. Milenna lunged forward to protect him with her staff but found there was no need - the guardians, hearing the name of their glorious dead ruler, lost interest in the fight. Their hollow eye sockets were fixed on Ben and just like their half-skulled comrade, they curled their bony fingers in a fist and gave the ancient salute.

Ben wasn’t looking at them, however. His attention was fixed on the guardian mage. This skeleton did not stop everything and salute like the others, but it did turn to glare with burning eyes at Ben. The purple beam of light that connected it to the energy ball intensified and for a moment Ben feared that it was about to cast another devastating spell.

Nothing of the sort happened, though. Instead, the skeleton mage took a few steps toward Ben - and spoke.

“King Ghol is… long gone. Who are you… to call his name?”

The dead Duergar’s voice was exactly what Ben would expect from an undead monster - low and guttural. That it could speak without lungs or a tongue was a marvel, but Ben assumed that that purple energy was what supplied it with the ability. In fact, he was sure of it, after seeing that the mage’s jaw didn’t move as it spoke.

Ben’s mind raced. He didn’t know what was going on and could only guess that the vision he had witnessed had somehow given him the ability to speak the language of the dwarves - and to know things he had no business knowing, like who the Exile was. He didn’t have time to delve deeper into this newfound knowledge, yet it was because of this knowledge that four deadly enemies were now motionless and saluting to their forgotten king. Ben knew he had no choice - he had to resort once more to his bluff skill.

The scout took a few steps forward as well, walking slowly to give himself time to gather his thoughts. As he walked he glanced at Milenna - the sorceress was supporting Red and both of them followed Ben with their eyes. Red’s look was barely readable, as bloody as his face was, but Milenna’s was as shrewd as ever. She was also moving her lips and Ben knew that she wasn’t putting all of her chips on whatever Ben had accomplished - she was preparing another spell.

Ben swallowed. Each step he took hurt - he was definitely suffering from a broken rib or two and there was blood streaming down the side of his face, where the skeleton punched him and ripped his skin open. He bit his lip against the pain, knowing that he had to finish what he started. Resuming the fight was out of the question - they would be overwhelmed in seconds.

When Ben was at a distance of 15 feet from the mage, he stopped. Up close, the creature was even more frightening - there was something about its pose and about the way it looked at Ben with those burning eyes that suggested a true intelligence. Behind it, the magicked huge fist still held Shiraz, but now that he was closer, Ben could see through the purple shimmer of the fist. To his immense relief, he saw that the shadow mage’s eyes were open and looking straight at him with a silent appeal. She was alive! He was filled with hope again - and determination.

When Ben finally spoke, his answer was well thought of. For a bluff to be good, he knew, it had to consist of as much truth as possible. He just had to gather the pieces of information he already knew about this place… and hope for the best.

“It is I, the Scout of Sonadin,” he said slowly, using the ancient language without conscious thought. He locked eyes with the burning orbs of the mage. “I come here to complete... a quest.” He almost said ‘quest for power’, but thought better of it. “Who are you to stop me?”

The mage studied him. The purple light from his sphere intensified every few seconds as if it was some kind of an ethereal heart. “I am Throndrefeen... Ironhead,” he answered. Ben wasn’t sure where was the origin of the voice - was it the skeleton, or the floating orb? He kept his gaze on those burning eyes, though, just to be polite.

The voice continued. “I was… entrusted… to guard this chamber against… intruders.” He paused, and when he spoke next his voice sounded… perplexed. “You speak our language... and know of our liege. Yet you bear the mark... of the cursed.”

Fuck. Ben scrambled for an answer. “I am. Your valiant guardians have k - I mean, banished me once from this place. But as I said, I am here on a mission. I will keep coming back until I see it done.”

Throndrefeen cocked his skeletal head in a very humanlike - or dwarflike - manner. “Tell me… Scout of Sonadin… why… are you entitled… The Naked Noob?”

The silence that followed that question was interrupted only by Red, who coughed blood. Ben thanked the heavens that his companions couldn’t understand the words that were being exchanged; if Red understood the question he would laugh so hard that he’d probably lose the few remaining hit points he got left.

As it was, the guardian’s question caught Ben completely off guard and threatened to unravel all the confidence he had built with his bluff. He was blushing again, for crying out loud! Standing there in this cavern and blushing while speaking in ancient dwarvish or whatnot with an undead enemy - things couldn’t get any more awkward.

Ben decided he couldn’t answer the question directly and still keep his dignity. So he ignored it - and moved back to the offense. “What I am is none of your business, Throndrefeen Ironhead. Tell me now, what do you know of the Eye of Paragmir?”

It worked. So to speak. The flames in the mage’s eyes suddenly flared brighter and he took a step forward, raising his wand. “The Eye!” He nearly shouted. “What… do you know… of the Eye of Paragmir?”

Ben swallowed. He didn’t know anything, really, just that this dungeon was supposed to contain a quest about it. He decided to gamble. “I seek it. Do you know where it is?”

Throndrefeen paused and Ben wondered if he was communicating with the purple energy that still hovered in the air. When he spoke, his voice was steady again. “I know... not. But we have waited long... for the one who would come seeking... the Eye. I can help you… in your quest. But you have to... promise us… to bring back the Eye… to this chamber… so king Ghol’s beloved wife would finally… rest in peace… together with the king. Do you… promise?”

As Ben tried to make sense of what he heard, a prompt filled his vision.

You have been offered a quest: The Eye of Paragmir. Find the Eye of Paragmir and bring it back to Throndrefeen Ironhead in the hall of the Duergar, so that king Ghol and his wife Paragmir would finally be able to rest in peace. Personal reward: a power crystal. Additional party reward: unknown. Note: failure to complete this quest may result in the undead Duergar forever haunting you and seeking revenge.

Ben felt a grin spread across his face. Their hopeless situation just got a very encouraging upturn. The scout looked at Throndrefeen. “If I promise to bring back the Eye, will you release my friend?” He gestured at Shiraz who was still immobilized beneath the purple fist.

The skeletal dwarf nodded. “Promise to fulfill my terms… and you shall have no trouble from any... of the Ironhead guardians.”

Ben thought the answer was somewhat evasive - it suggested that other guardians, that were not directly connected to the Ironhead family tree, won’t have any restrictions when it came to attacking his party - but he also knew that he was pushing his luck. And that his companions were suffering as he conversed with the undead. He made his decision. “Then I promise. Tell me what you know of the Eye, and I shall find it and bring it back here.”

In response, the mage raised his bony hands and the purple fist that held Shiraz was instantly gone, leaving the shadow mage gasping on the floor. Ben started to go to her but stopped to listen to Throndrefeen, who was speaking again. “There is… a chest… in a hidden room in this chamber. Open it to find… the help you seek. Also… I give you this… wand. Use it well…” The skeleton mage retreated until he stood once again beneath the floating purple orb. “Good luck... Naked Noob... Scout of Sonadin. I assume… you shall… need it.”

And with that, the beam of light that connected Throndrefeen to the orb vanished. The flames in his eyes died away and he stopped moving, once again standing silent and vigilant. Ben heard heavy footsteps and when he looked around he saw the other four skeletons walking back to resume their posts by their leader, their shadows stretching across the rubble. Half-skull even paused on the way to pick up the ax that it dropped when Ben hit him. All of them were missing some of their bones, but they were still in fighting shape, ready to face the next challenger who stumbled into this chamber.

Now that the danger has passed, Ben became aware of several blinking icons that demanded his attention. First things first, though. The scout half ran half stumbled toward Shiraz, stopping only to pick up the wand left to him by Throndrefeen, which lay on the floor by the skeleton’s feet. Then he made the rest of the way and reached the shadow mage, who was weakly trying to raise herself to her knees. He was appalled by what he saw - the magical fist that hit Shiraz had left her with multiple cuts, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Her skin! It seemed to change color, darkening before his eyes. Ben kneeled next to her, gasping in pain as his broken ribs protested. He ignored the pain and reached to support the shadow mage, who seemed to struggle to say something.

“What? What is it? How can I help!” Ben leaned closer to hear what she was whispering.

Shiraz managed to grab his shoulder. Her words came out in a broken whisper - not unlike the voice of the undead guardian. “What… the fuck… was that?”

Ben looked at her, dumbfounded, and was amazed to see her cracked lips turn in a smile as she continued speaking. “Tell me... all about it… next time we meet,” she whispered.

Ben’s mouth opened - and stayed open, as Shiraz suddenly disappeared.

“Eh - “ he said. There was only a puddle of blood where the shadow mage had been.

“Hey Ben!”

He turned, still not comprehending, just in time to see Red disappearing from sight as well. Milenna was still there, smiling broadly. “I have no idea what just happened, but it was magnificent,” said the sorceress, her melodic voice echoing in the wide hall. “Can’t wait to hear the whole story!”

Ben just blinked and then Milenna laughed. “Just check your prompts, fearless leader. Until we meet again.”

And with that, she too disappeared.

Ben was left alone with the skeletons in the purple illuminated hall. His mind, so engrossed in the fierce encounter and its aftermath, couldn’t grasp what was happening. With nothing else to do, he did as the sorceress suggested and checked the blinking icons.

The first prompts that were waiting for him were skill level-ups that he got during the fight and the ensuing conversation with the guardian mage. He was thrilled to see that he raised his crossbows skill to level 4, his perception to level 20 and his bluff to level 12.

The next prompt was by far the most personal he ever got. And while it shed a bit of light on his newfound knowledge, it also left Ben utterly confused.

You have learned a new language: Nefereeth. Few - if any - in this world have mastered this long-forgotten language that was used by the ancient Duergar, yet you - a fledgling noob - suddenly know how to read and speak it. How is that possible? Don’t ask us. One thing is clear, though, oh mighty Scout of Sonadin - there are things about you that you must discover. Do it quickly, before this hidden knowledge turns into a double-edged sword. Bonus for this unlikely feat: + 2 to intelligence.

Ben didn’t stop to think. He just moved on to the next prompt:

Success! You have completed a hidden quest: The Guardians’ Challenge. Though unable to defeat the Ironhead Guardians with brute force, you have found a way to convince the skeletons to lay down their arms - and even help you in your new quest. Shared XP received: 4,400 (base 2,400 + 2,000 for courageous leadership). Personal XP received: 1,100. Current XP: 3,100. Points to next level: 2,900. Leadership + 1

3,100 XP? But that would mean -

A new prompt jumped in front of his eyes, blocking the rest of his vision:

Private message from your DM: Hey Ben! You just reached level 3! Good job! Sadly, you will have to wait with your level-up just a bit longer, as your four hours are up. I’ll email you to schedule our next session. Stay safe in the real world, it’s dangerous out there.

Yours truly,

DM Raxlon

Without further warning, the world disappeared.