The orc girl’s blue eyes watched closely as Magnuus Thorgrimsbrekt and I talked.

Aleesi, I thought. If I was right, and that was her name.

She glanced back and forth between us constantly, like she was on high alert. Intently, as well, like she was trying to read our minds from our body language. I didn’t blame her. I’d be careful, too, if I was in her place. Every so often, she’d reach up with one slim hand and run her fingers along the edge of a pointed ear. I noticed that she wore a series of earrings down one side, bone and bits of shining metal.

It was the appropriate time for names now, apparently.

Magnuus Thorgrimsbrekt. A mouthful. Bigger than the he was, definitely. As I’d watched him move about his small camp it seemed that the warrior was scrawnier than the other duergar I’d had the pleasure of meeting. Leaner, his bulky chainmail tunic and big axe lending him a certain heft that wasn’t backed up by reality. If we were both standing, the crown of his head would probably have crested at my mid-chest.

Magnuus had cleaned out his small pan by stumping to the lip of the bridge and scraping the blackened, charred bits of past meals over the edge. The fire he made with a flint and steel and several handfuls of dense, dried moss. Or lichen. Is there a difference? There was a small stash of food in one darkened corner by the wall: thick-stalked mushrooms with caps the size of my fist and a couple hunks of something that might have been meat. It had been smoked or jerked, something arcane, antiquated procedure that had given it a dry, cracked-leather look.

“I don’t have much,” the duergar had grunted. “But we can gather more tomorrow.” It came across as the self-conscious attempt of a once-proud man trying to justify a poor offering.

I just nodded, wondering when I’d started reading so deep into things. Maybe, after spending too much time alone, you start to see people different. Like puzzles or challenges, obstacles or assets to be unraveled. Or maybe it was just my natural reaction to arriving in a strange world with absolutely zero knowledge of what to expect.

My lack of knowledge was something I’d have to fix. Soon. But not now. Because now that food was sizzling over our host’s small fire my rumbling stomach reminded me that it had been a long time since I’d last eaten. On Earth… I realized, and the thought was incredibly strange. It struck me hard enough that I spent several long minutes just staring into the fire, marveling. Or maybe I was just unconsciously staring at the food, silently begging those mushrooms to be as tasty as they smelled. Maybe a bit nutty, and a little smoky.

Alright… mostly they just smelled like something warm and edible.

A glance to one side revealed that Aleesi was also staring at the small pan with a glazed look of hunger. Made me wonder when the last time was that she’d eaten. Which made me want to know how she’d ended up in the crazy, messed-up situation that I’d landed in the middle of when I arrived. Literally landed in. Almost literally in the middle of, but luckily not quite. That was the train of thought that snapped me out of my daze.

“What is this place?”

The duergar seemed to have gotten distracted with the cooking, but he glanced up at my sudden question. His eyebrows came together, then he tugged at his short beard. “While we eat,” he said.

I was about to protest. I was in another realm of reality, and I could tell that my mind was still having a hard time grasping the fact. That idea alone seemed to be taking up a lot of my brain’s computing power, like I was functioning at suboptimal levels while I ran a major software update.

Currently downloading the Thorr’un DLC.

It wasn’t just the actuality of my transition, either. It seemed like my senses were heightened, like I was more aware of everything going on around me. The smells that drifted up on the smoke from the duergar’s blackened cooking pan were acute. The sounds — every time one of us scuffed a movement on the stone, or the soft clink of mail whenever our dour cook shifted his weight. Even the sights of the place seemed to slam into my eyeballs with greater detail and clarity.

I was in a whole new world. Only without Aladdin, a magic lamp, a flying carpet or an exotic princess to have my back. Just me, a magic spear, a flying cat and… I glanced over at Aleesi. Huh. The pretty orc girl could be a stand-in for a Disney princess, in a pinch.

Maybe I’m doing better than I thought.

Long story short, my brain was working hard enough as it was without having to deal with a lore dump. And the thought of food made my stomach grumble. Not for the first time. So I just nodded, instead of arguing. If this stranger was going to feed me, I’d wait before bombarding him with questions. Besides, my new comrade seemed a duergar of few words. Not one to waste his breath just to share a few useless tidbits. He’d probably give me the SparkNotes version. Which would be better than my random questions anyway.

Magnuus poked at the mushrooms a few times with his fork, turned them over to give them what I supposed was an even sear. Then, he stabbed a meaty stalk with his knife and held it out in my general direction. I hesitated a second, instinctively waiting for a plate. Then I realized that we were going ultra al fresco on this meal, and reached for the offering.

“Fuck.”

My hand flinched open instinctively as Magnuus slid the steaming mushroom off the end of the cooking knife and it burned against my fingers. It fell floorward, flipping several times. Shit. My first meal in Thorr’un was going to be half-raw mushroom with a garnish of rock dust.

And then I caught it.

My hand flicked out, my sensitive fingers lightly cradling it before it could strike the stone and roll away across the grimy stone floor. But… I didn’t… It was like my hands had moved a split second faster than I my mind could react, saving my dinner before my brain had processed what was happening.

I sighed. I guess my new body was going to take some getting used to. I glanced over at Magnuus, who raised his bushy eyebrows at me. “Cheers,” I muttered, lifting the mushroom in his direction. Then, I took my first bite, chewed hard, and swallowed.

Well. It wasn’t bad, if you don’t care about taste. Not that it was gross, more that it just… seemed to lack that particular attribute. Like I was eating a thick chunk of rubber.

I took another bite as Magnuus grunted and speared a second mushroom. “So…” I prompted. “Story time?”

The duergar regarded me, glanced at Aleesi, then down at the morsel of food. He jerked his head in her direction and held out the knife. “For the… orc.” He seemed to chew the word before it rumbled out.

It made me realize how hard it was for him to share his food with the girl. I wondered if that would be part of the story. If not, I would have to ask. Because as far as I was concerned the girl wasn’t going anywhere. Not as weak as she was, still recovering from the spider bite. Call me a misogynist pig, but I was invested in protecting her.

“The time of stories…” My host muttered as I carefully slid the mushroom free, careful not to let it burn me.

I offered the portion to Aleesi and the girl reached out, snatching it up. Her bright eyes were wide and hungry, but she sniffed it carefully before taking a careful, dainty nibble. As the girl lowered her head to her hands, my eyes were drawn to a stud of yellowed bone that was drilled through her earlobe. It was a grinning skull, strangely intricate for something as small as my thumbnail.

Curled up against her leg, Webster perked up his ears and raised his head from her lap as she drew back. Like a dog hoping for a treat. The little microgriffon hadn’t left her side since she’d befriended him.

Traitor, I thought with a quiet snort of amusement. Not that I wouldn’t trade places with the little guy to curl up next to a beautiful woman. I ripped another bite free with my teeth as Magnuus cleared his throat, bringing my wandering thoughts back to reality. Extreme hunger really makes it hard to focus. I was already almost done with the meager meal.

“You have asked what this place is,” the duergar murmured. He paused, and I found myself pricking up my ears in spite of myself. “It is Thirdohr, the World of Stone.” He paused again, and I couldn’t wait any longer.

“So we aren’t in Thorr’un?” I blurted, “And what the hell is going on down here? What’s with the duergar and the orcs and the spiders and…” I trailed off.

My host looked irritated at my interruption, and I swallowed the rubbery bite of mushroom. Got it. Let the dwarf talk. I shot a glance over at Aleesi, and the orc girl actually snorted before glancing down and stroking several fingers down Webster’s feathery back. Guess you didn’t need to speak the language to know someone had put his foot in his mouth.

“As I said,” my host began again. “This is Thirdohr. The kingdom carved beneath Thorr’un by Utr, lord of the Dverga.” His dark eyes seemed to grow hazy, like he was looking into the distant past. “Next, inhabited by the Senvaldr, who built the long tunnels. Then, their younger, smaller kindred. The dwarves.” Magnuus’s voice was almost a sneer as he named the race. “The dwarves lived in the tunnels, built their cities and mined the ore and gems that Utr had left for all Dverga. All was well. But then came the Fall. The dwarves grew insolent, overly proud. They were cursed by Lugni, who coveted their wealth and power. He sent the urekt, the orc, the grimmlin, the goblin, and the sliepnaas, the spider. Up from the Deep Places. Down from the Medgard. And the dwarves were too weak and lazy to hold on to the gifts and bounties the gods had bestowed upon them.”

I had never been much for history. And the names and places that the duergar referenced were all utterly foreign to me. But I was transfixed. I had chewed the cap of my mushroom to a pulp and finally swallowed. The duergar’s voice was slow and even and rhythmic, almost like he was speaking his way through a poem. I didn’t interrupt now, waiting for the story to continue.

‘That was when we, the duergar, rose from our deep mines to hold the sacred city of Khazzad Bharush ur-Godall against the three living curses to our realm.”

I vaguely recalled that a notification naming the place had blinded me at an inopportune moment when I’d arrived. To me, the name seemed overly long and complicated. But the duergar said it with a natural rhythm, a flow that gave it a kind of majesty.

I grunted, sticking the last bite of mushroom into my mouth. “Sacred city…” I mused. “Are you some sort of priest?”

Magnuus stared at the pan, speared a small ball of the dark, chewy meat and held it out to me. I was more careful this time, but still snatched it greedily. “A Gotrek,” he muttered. “A holy warrior.”

The meat was stringy and tough. Unlike the mushroom, it had a taste. Don’t ask me for details. I swallowed my first bite out of obligation to my stomach and clenched my teeth against the flavor. Anything that tastes this bad must be good for me, I thought. Probably make me grow up big and strong like Magnuus. Considering I was already a foot and a half taller than the duergar, I wasn’t holding my breath.

“What does a holy warrior want from me?” I asked, when my host seemed lost in the flames. “What’s stopping you from going home? You obviously know your way around the history. I’m assuming you know your way around the tunnels, as well.”

Magnuus scowled as he looked up. “Obviously, elf.” He grimaced and glanced away. “But I cannot return. Like the dwarves before them, the duergar have lost their way. Their deeplord, Vali, has given himself over to the same greed and indolence that took our dwarven cousins. I was…” He spat a harsh duergar word that I didn’t catch. “Exiled. Cast out. I would have been executed had I stayed.”

I blinked. “For what?”

The duergar eyed me darkly and didn’t answer. He spiked another ball of meat, glanced at Aleesi and grunted in her direction. Again, he used me as an intermediary to transfer the food. I guess his generosity didn’t extend to directly handing the orc girl her meal. Which I supposed made sense, given his story. As far as he was concerned, it seemed, the orcs were a living plague brought down on his people by the gods themselves.

Made me think of the mutants back home, how some of the doomsday cults had called them a divine punishment. Yeah… I wouldn’t be keen on breaking bread with a mutant, either. When the dwarf kept quiet, I tore another shred of meat with my teeth and chewed pensively.

“So why do you need me?” I sucked on a strand of the leathery stuff that got caught. “Not much I can do about your whole… exiled warrior deal.”

The duergar frowned, like my commentary wasn’t helpful. “Undying make good allies.”

There it was again, the title he kept using on me. “What does that even mean?” I demanded. “You keep calling me undying. I’ve already died. I promise. At least once.” My mind snapped back to the wrenching, twisting pain in the Integration Pod.

“And yet here you are.” The warrior spread his hands. “It is in the name. Undying are not impossible to kill. But you come back. Again and again.”

I scowled. “And you know this because…?”

“Years ago, Undying first came to our city. They were hired by our cousins, the greedy dwarves, to retake the holy citadel.” The hazy look came back to his deep brown eyes. “They were fearsome, terrible foes. Now…” he shrugged and shook his head slightly. He met my gaze. “You have not come to take my city away from me. And I would like to have a fearsome, terrible ally by my side.”

I considered, chewing my inner cheek. Maybe Undying is what these people call humans integrated by way of the AvatR system? People entering Thorr’un from outside? But that doesn’t make sense. AvatR was only released a couple of years ago… And Magnuus is telling it like it happened decades in the past. “How many times do the Undying come back?”

“How should I know?” The duergar looked frustrated at the question. He seemed like one of those people who likes to flex their knowledge and grows irritated when they don’t have all the answers. “I am not Undying. However, I know that in the time of war I faced one Undying in combat seven times.”

I blinked. Holy crap. “And you…?”

“Seven times I slew him.”

I crammed the last bite of meat into my mouth to stop me from blurting out something stupid. This duergar was one bad motherfucker. When I finally managed to swallow the chewy ball of shoe leather, I asked, “How do you know that I’m… you know… one of them? Undying?”

I almost expected my host to frown again, but this time he actually chuckled. He gestured at me with his knife. “It is written in your face. In your questions. You are not of this plane, this world, Jondalar.” It was the first time he’d used my name, and it felt strangely… normal. “You are a stranger to Thorr’un. Perhaps you are from… Urth? Ert? That was the homeland one of the Undying claimed before we broke him on Turgem’s Anvil.”

I nodded slowly, not sure how much to give away. Also, I was trying to resist the urge to imagine what Turgem’s Anvil might look like. “And you’d be willing to trust me? An alien in your world?”

The duergar’s eyes turned from me to Aleesi and back. The orc girl was laying back on the duergar’s bedroll, her body having apparently giving up the fight against exhaustion. I guess brushing up with death really takes it out of you. “I have already broken bread with a godless savage,” Magnuus grunted. He speared some meat and passed it to me. “In light of this, an Undying is practically a brother.”

My stomach rumbled as I glanced at Aleesi. I swallowed, gritted my teeth, and passed along the morsel of food. I didn’t have much to say to Magnuus’s comment, but the pale warrior continued.

“Besides. You have made a sacred promise to help me. I happen to know that Undying are bound to these oaths. These quests, as I believe you call them.”

I grimaced. “Find that out in another torture session?” Bound to quests? Hermes hadn’t mentioned anything about that. Then again, the god hadn’t told me much of anything before he threw me in the deep end.

The duergar grinned, darkly. “The Anvil can be quite persuasive.”

I wouldn’t consider myself squeamish, not after what I’ve been through, but I hoped I never had occasion to see my new ally’s Anvil. “And you’d trust me not to kill you in your sleep?”

When I’d first met Kyle, that had been one of my chief concerns. I may or may not have locked him in a closet every night for the first few weeks of our friendship. Just to be on the safe side. Because as far as most Survivors are concerned, the safe side is the only side. I had a place to stay, a small stockpile of supplies and some actual weaponry. People those days were killing for less.

Now the ashen-skinned duergar chuckled. “Do you know your way out of here?”

I looked away, out over the edge of the bridge. “Fair enough.” The darkness suddenly seemed to press in around me, the cold air heavy in my lungs. The glowing lights that had delighted me earlier seemed far away and alien. “Fair enough...”

I turned back. “Any more food?” My stomach had stopped rumbling, but I knew that it was only momentarily satisfied. Like a small child, it would wake up in the middle of the night and decide to voice its displeasure.

Magnuus sniffed. “No.”

I glanced down. The pan was empty. Abruptly, I realized that my host hadn’t left a single bite of food for himself. Shit. I swallowed, felt like a dick, and wondered if this was my Charisma score of 7 coming out to play.

Take a -5 modifier to general etiquette and social awareness.

Magnuus had the frame of a bigger man, and the shadow he cast on the wall as he hunched over the flames was a fuller outline of his lesser figure. Like he used to be brawny and thick in the not too distant past, but hunger and survival had taken their toll. I recognized the look. It was a common one during the chaotic times, back home. When people had started to go hungry. Just before things got really bad.

But despite his obvious need, the duergar had fed a ‘godless savage’ and a total stranger before himself. Truly, I didn’t know what to make of him. I swallowed uncomfortably. I met the warrior’s eyes. “Thank you.” It was all I could say.

The warrior’s dark eyes sharpened. He sucked in a breath, like he was going to chastise me, then just dropped his shoulders. “You have a lot to learn, Undying.”

I had no response to that. I just shrugged. It was true.

“You’ll take first watch.”

Then, before I could ask how long before I could sleep, or what I should be watching for, my host rose from the fireside, stumped over to the nearest wall, and sat back. Nestled in a shadowy crook between the crumbling wall and a pile of rubble, with his heavy axe propped up against the stone beside him. His eyes glittered briefly in the dark, then his long nose dipped forward and his chin rested on his chest.

I pushed myself to my feet. The small fire was burning low. The light of the blue and green and white-glowing plants was no brighter, but felt closer as I stared up. Far away, beyond my sight, the cavern ceiling doubtless arched like the curve of the heavens. Millions of tons of stone, probably, between me and the true vastness of the open sky. It was strange, though. For a moment, I could just pretend that it was there, close enough to touch.

Just me and the sky. Alone.

By the time I realized I wasn’t alone, it was too late.