Chapter 21 - The Mountain - Markus

The house was in a state of frenzied activity. When Markus had informed Svala that a new dungeon had spawned to the southeast of the town, he had expected the chimaeras to show a keen interest. Markus had not expected them to demand heading out immediately, although perhaps he should have in retrospect.

Despite his initial expectations that Aela’s family had already decided upon an order of who would be entering the dungeons with him. The chimaera siblings had come frighteningly close to blows when Beowulf demanded that Skadi receive the dungeon heart from this dungeon. Only Thyra had backed down immediately, while Bjorn and Ulf had both looked ready for a fight. Thankfully, Svala intervened and the twins reluctantly backed down.

Trying to put the frightening confrontation out of mind, Markus quickly rummaged through his pack to make sure his supplies were still stowed away from last time. He also stashed his helmet, a spare tablet, a dozen folded sheaves of paper and a case of charcoal sticks into his pack as well. Markus fully intended to take a closer look at the dungeon heart this time and make some sketches if he found anything interesting. After snatching up his sword and shield, Markus rushed back downstairs.

Unsurprisingly, Beowulf, Skadi and Aela were already ready and waiting for him. Svala had been concerned that more than three chimaeras would draw too much attention to what they were doing, and since Aela had insisted on going as Markus’s dedicated bodyguard, that only left Beowulf and Skadi. Considering the earlier confrontation, it was actually something of a relief that the other chimaeras would be left behind and that Svala would be there to keep an eye on them.

The idea of being accompanied by two chimaeras who honestly had very little incentive in keeping him alive after they entered the dungeon, was not a pleasant one. So Markus was particularly grateful that Aela would be coming along to look out for him.

With her change in role from the vanguard to rearguard or bodyguard, Aela had similarly changed her armaments. In near direct contrast to their older brother, both Bjorn and Ulf now had every reason to make sure Markus would make it back alive. So they insisted that Aela borrow what she needed from their supplies.

Aela had taken Bjorn’s round shield and longsword, then slung Ulf’s quiver of javelins onto her back alongside her pack. They had each insisted she take more, but Aela had waved them off.

Markus made a mental note to give the equipment some basic enchantments for strength and durability when they reached the dungeon. Truthfully, he had planned on enchanting everyone’s equipment two days ago but had grown distracted and forgotten.

Both Beowulf and Skadi were nearly identically armed and armoured. Wearing well-worn but maintained dark brigandine and helmets without faceguards. They each also had a sword sheathed at the hip and were carrying pollaxes.

Unlike Markus and Aela, neither of them apparently planned on bringing additional supplies. Markus wondered if it was for a particular reason regarding their fighting style, or if they were just relying on others to provide it for them.

“Finally,” Beowulf rumbled impatiently. “Are you ready to leave now?” He asked in a thick northern accent.

Anabelle nearly jumped out of her skin but quietly nodded. As per Markus’ agreement with the guild, she would need to see them off at the town gate and they would also have to wait for her at the gate once they returned.

“I think so,” Markus adjusted the straps of his pack and jostled it a little to reassure himself that he remembered everything.

Aela nodded, “I packed extra bandages and antiseptic,” she winked at Markus and they shared a knowing look, remembering how he had blinded a giant wolf with it while returning from their first dungeon.

“Then let us get moving!” Beowulf snarled. If the door had not already been opened in preparation for their departure, Markus had little doubt Beowulf would have just crashed through it rather than spare the time to open it.

The five of them quickly set off for the livery stables. Even though the dungeon was conservatively a half-day or more in travel away from the walls of the town, Beowulf had insisted that they hire a horse for Markus.

Markus understood that Beowulf wanted to beat any competition they might have for the dungeon. However Markus didn’t have much experience with horse riding, so he doubted how much faster they would really be able to go without him risking falling off the horse and breaking his neck.

Knowing Beowulf was waiting impatiently outside, Markus paid the groom a little extra to make sure to pick a reliable steed on his behalf. A few minutes later, the groom had returned with a saddled horse in tow.

“This is Amie,” he gave the horse a tentative pat on its flank, “She is a little old, but she will make sure you won’t fall out of the saddle,” the groom assured Markus. Placing down the mounting stool so Markus could get into the saddle without embarrassing himself, he stepped back and waited to hand off the reins.

Nervously getting himself seated in the saddle, Markus tried his best to appear calm. He took the offered reigns and tentatively coaxed the old mare to walk forward. Keenly aware that Beowulf was impatiently waiting for him, Markus still took his time to get used to directing Amie where he wanted to go.

Reassured that the horse did indeed seem to be capable of doing most of the work for him, Markus waved goodbye to the groom and left the yard.

Beowulf was indeed quite impatient. However, Anabelle was just as keen to see them off at the southern gate, so they made good time.

The weather was quite pleasant, although perhaps just a little too cold. Beowulf had set an ambitious pace for the rest of them to follow and Markus would not have been surprised if they reached the dungeon in a couple of hours.

Although initially thankful for the horse, Markus was reminded why he disliked riding. Halfway to the dungeon, his nethers and inner-thighs felt thoroughly abused. Markus wondered if he could negotiate for a short break to recover, but he doubted Beowulf would agree.

Just like the previous dungeon he had cleared with Aela, nothing besides the dungeon’s location and power level were known. It was located just outside a small country estate, so there was at least a well-worn dirt road to follow most if not all the way to it. Unlike the previous dungeon, this one was a significantly higher level. If the guild’s reading was accurate, it was a level twenty-three dungeon.

So while Beowulf was pushing them to avoid potential competition, Markus was kind of hoping they would have some help. As the estate came into view, he suspected they would have no such luck.

An aging steward was waiting by the gate to the estate grounds and he was accompanied by a half dozen armed guards. Without needing to ask, Markus knew that handling this would be his responsibility.

Handing the reins off to Aela and gingerly dismounting, Markus winced and suppressed the urge to walk bow-legged. “Good morning,” he withdrew his guild identification but did not hold it up for the steward to inspect. A level one Artificer attempting to clear a level twenty-three dungeon hardly inspired confidence.

The steward bowed, “Greetings, my Lord. Am I correct in assuming you require access to the estate to defeat the dungeon?” He asked politely.

Markus smiled warmly, “If you would be so kind, I would greatly appreciate it."

The steward nodded and motioned for the guards to open the gates. “You have quite fortuitous timing indeed my Lord. The sudden appearance of the dungeon was quite a cause of distress for the Lord and Lady,” he motioned for the youngest of the guards to see to Markus’s horse, “I hope you do not mind my asking my Lord. But, erm, will you be waiting for additional assistance, or proceeding immediately?"

Glancing briefly at Beowulf, Markus wondered if the steward was more worried by the prospect of monsters escaping the dungeon, or of chimaeras loitering on the property. “We had planned to begin immediately unless you know something we do not?"

Visibly relieved, the steward shook his head. “No my Lord. It is just the danger presented by the dungeon has the household quite upset. Your prudence will indeed greatly alleviate these concerns."

The deep but quiet rumbling in Beowulf’s throat drew Markus and the steward’s attention. He was looking pointedly back down the road towards two figures on horseback.

“Oh, more adventurers!” The steward exclaimed excitedly, “Why this is most fortunate indeed."

Skadi had noticed now as well, looking somewhat angry and disappointed.

“We should probably head over to the dungeon and get ready,” Markus said loudly enough for the others to take notice. If he claimed the dungeon first, guild rules stipulated that he then had the right to turn newcomers away. As long as he entered the dungeon in a timely fashion, latecomers would have to wait for him to extend a formal invitation or act on a rescue request.

The steward had no doubt expected Markus to wait for the other adventurers and form a party with them. He seemed perplexed as Beowulf, Skadi, Aela and Markus entered the grounds and made straight for the dungeon. The steward had no way of knowing that forming a party would be contrary to their group’s intended goals.

Confirming his identity and intent to enter the dungeon along with his three designated retainers, Markus sighed in relief. Officially, the dungeon was now theirs.

“Alright. I should probably enchant our gear before we go...in,” Markus looked up from his identification just in time to see Beowulf and Skadi disappear into the rippling energy of the dungeon archway.

Aela frowned and shook her head, “Mother thought they might do that,” she said disapprovingly. Freeing the shield off her back and drawing the sword from her hip, Aela laid both out on the ground so Markus could carve sigils into them for his enchantments. “Do you want to enchant the javelins?” She asked.

Markus thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Probably better to play it safe,” he agreed. Carving a basic sigil into the back of the shield, Markus motioned to get Aela’s attention, “Could you carve that into the shafts of the javelins while I mark the sword grip? Just one each is enough."

Aela nodded, took out one of her knives and set to work.

Markus glanced back towards the gate as he worked, “This is just a hardening enchantment and they won’t have much each. I want to keep some mana in reserve, just in case. So if your sword starts getting banged up, we can swap, alright?"

“Alright,” Aela agreed.

With all of the new equipment suitably prepped, Markus carefully enchanted each in turn. He made sure to keep well over half his mana in reserve. The prospect of running such a high-level dungeon was a little unnerving and he really wasn’t sure what to expect.

“Here they come,” Aela hissed quietly in warning.

“Your gear is ready,” Markus looked back towards the gate and saw the two adventurers had dismounted just as he had and were speaking with the steward. “They look familiar,” he muttered absently while adjusting the straps of his breastplate.

Aela flicked her tongue and scowled. “It is the mage and his sister,” she said flatly and returned to stowing the javelins in her quiver.

Markus had forgotten Phillipe intended to tour the frontier towns for dungeons to help his sister level up. They had been alright companions last time, perhaps teaming up again would be a good idea given the high level of the dungeon?

Seeing that Phillipe had noticed them, Markus waved and waited for them to walk over.

Phillipe smiled, “It is good to see you, Markus,” he gave a small bow, “I had wondered when we would next see one another. Ah, but this time it would seem our positions have been reversed.” Phillipe sighed and shrugged in mock defeat, “Ah well. Are there just two of you? I don’t suppose you are looking for additional party members?” He asked hopefully.

Markus made a show of giving it a great deal of thought, “Maybe,” he shrugged, “Two members of our group are already inside."

Phillipe’s hopeful expression fell slightly after hearing that.

His sister, Kassandra, Markus thought was her name, had said nothing so far, although she was scowling somewhat.

“Is it perhaps because you are conducting tests again?” Phillipe asked, looking pointedly at Markus quartzite spearhead

Markus nodded, “I am doing research, or intend to anyway. If I were to invite you and your sister along, I would need certain guarantees of discretion."

Phillipe smiled, “Of course. We would not get in your way and would be willing to forgo the bounty."

Markus shrugged at that, “That’s fine. First, just as before, I would need assurances that both of you will keep knowledge of what happens inside the dungeon a secret. Second, the dungeon heart is mine. I need it for my research. So when we find it, hang back."

“Done,” Phillipe agreed unreservedly.

“Alright,” Markus agreed, “If you agree to those terms, then I would be happy to have you.” He took out his identification and signalled an invitation for accepting party members.

Phillipe and Kassandra promptly accepted and added themselves to the party designated to the dungeon, then Markus closed the open invitation again.

“Alright, let’s do this,” Markus said as he began moving toward the dungeon entrance.

Aela quickly moved ahead of him and entered first with her shield raised.

The possibility of being ambushed while entering the dungeon was probably less likely since Beowulf and Skadi were already inside. But then the thought occurred to him that if there was an ambush, it was probably much better prepared.

Raising his own shield, Markus entered the dungeon.

It took him a few moments to process what he was looking at.

He was standing on the rocky outcrop on a mountainside. A barren wasteland stretched from one horizon to the other below. It was Markus first time experiencing an outdoor dungeon and it was difficult to get his head around it.

It had been a lot easier to accept that dungeons existed in a different or adjacent plane when you were moving through tunnels and underground complexes. It was something else entirely to see an entirely new world on the horizon.

Were the dungeons opening gateways to different worlds? If they could find a way down the mountain, would they find the home of the monsters? Would the world collapse and be destroyed when the dungeon heart was broken?

“Are you alright, Markus?” Aela asked, her shield was still raised and directed towards a ledge farther up the mountain.

After giving his head a vigorous shake to try and focus on what was important, Markus nodded, “Yeah. It was just a lot to take in, you know?"

“Woah...” Kassandra had just entered the dungeon and apparently had a similar reaction to the view.

Phillipe only seemed a little curious, quickly dismissing the view and focusing on the mountain. “Oh, I see your companions have been busy.” He pointed further up the path towards four bodies that were splayed out in small pools of their own blood.

As a group, they cautiously made their way forward with Aela taking the lead, followed by Markus then Phillipe and with Kassandra bringing up the rear.

While approaching the bodies, Markus made sure to check their mana with his shield. The reading did not seem to make sense. All four bodies still had substantial reserves of mana. But it did not seem like that meant they were faking as the troll had done in the previous dungeon. One of the black-skinned brutish humanoid monsters had been decapitated and still had about the same level of mana as the others.

“Ugly bastards,” Kassandra sneered.

Phillipe sighed, “Tribal Orcs,” he scanned the surrounding mountainside and then nodded “The terrain would definitely play to their strengths. The tribal monsters have a heavy preference for skirmishes to wear you down. Given the level of the dungeon, I would not be surprised if there are a hundred or more Orcs in this dungeon."

The Orcs only wore loincloths and had primitive stone weapons, but they were tall, broad-shouldered and heavily muscled. Resembling ape-like humanoids, the prominent canines protruding from their mouths gave them a particularly savage appearance. The prospect of fighting a hundred of them was fairly daunting. But Markus figured that if the Orcs were only attacking them in small groups, it would be manageable so long as they didn’t underestimate them.

“Why would there be so many?” Markus asked. He was curious to know why Phillipe had been able to so confidently predict the number of monsters.

Phillipe smiled, “Experience. Orcs, tribal Orcs particularly, are generally a low tier monster. They typically inhabit the lower level dungeons. When they appear in higher level dungeons like this one, there are many times more of them."

“That makes sense,” Markus admitted. The higher level dungeons were capable of creating more powerful monsters, so it made sense that they could generate weaker monsters at a greater rate. Quantity presented a danger all its own, so it was not like the dungeon itself was weaker for using them like that. Actually, sheer numbers could easily overwhelm an unprepared group at a pivotal moment.

“If we want to catch up to them, we should probably get moving,” Aela sounded a little annoyed, but it was unclear if it was directed towards Phillipe or her older brother and Skadi.

“Alright,” Markus agreed, “You lead, I will follow."

Aela nodded and began leading them up the mountain path again. A few minutes passed by in relative silence before Aela stopped suddenly and began looking around.

Doing the same, Markus found no signs of any monsters and checking with his shield showed nothing either. “What is it?” He asked quietly.

Aela shook her head, “I thought I heard something."

“Better to be careful than dead,” Markus smiled reassuringly.

Aela had a small smile on her face as she started forward again.

“Wait! Do you hear that?” Phillipe had stopped and was looking around.

Markus heard it too. It was a strange buzzing sound.

“SHIELDS UP!” Aela roared hoarsely as she lifted her large shield above her head.

Initially stunned, Markus copied her. He hadn’t realized what was happening until the first arrows began smacking into the ground around them.

Phillipe and Kassandra quickly moved so their heads would be protected by Aela’s shield, relying on their armour to protect the parts of their bodies still exposed.

Markus watched through the transparent panel with detached curiosity as stone arrows rained down on his shield and shattered themselves from the force of impact.

Aela slowly inched closer towards him and linked their shields together, lifting Markus’s shield slightly to help support its weight.

Arrows were clattering and shattering against the ground all around and normally would have stopped them from being able to see what was happening without risking an arrow or splinter flying through their visor.

However, the quartzite panel in Markus shield afforded him a clear view, albeit intermittently obscured by splintered arrows. A large number of Orcs were firing bows from farther up the mountain. However, that was not what drew his attention. The dozen or so Orcs with clubs and shields loping down the mountain towards them seemed far more pressing.

“There are a bunch of Orcs coming at us,” Markus gestured his head in their direction.

Phillipe shielded his visor with his arm and peeked out from under the shield. “Shit, Markus is right!." Waving his other hand, the sound of an explosion erupted a few moments later accompanied by howls of pain. “From the other side as well!” He thrust his arm out back down the path and was immediately met by screams and shrieks.

“Pull back down the path!” Aela hissed as she boldly grabbed Phillipe and dragged him back under the cover of her shield.

Adjusting the angles of their shields and slowly walking back down the path, they could now see the feet of the Orcs as they charged down the path after them.

Looking through the panel of his shield, Markus could see dozens of Orcs flooding down the mountainside. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the open cliffside they had arrived on. Only now, three large Orcs with bladed clubs now stood between them and the gate.

“Fuck,” Markus cursed, “They are behind us too!"

“Hold off the ones in front, we will clear those behind!” Phillipe drew his sword, “Ready Kass?"

Kassandra nodded and took hold of her longsword in a two-handed grip. Releasing a warcry, she set out into the open and towards the trio of Orcs.

Phillipe was right behind her, flames erupting from his free hand.

With more pressing matters demanding his attention, Markus was nearly knocked off his feet and stumbled backwards as the first of the Orcs crashed into his shield.

“MARKUS!” Aela cried out in outrage. “DIE!” She swung her sword outward in a scything arc and the Orc that had knocked Markus down lost its head and toppled over. Aela roared in anger, lowering her shield and driving the rim into another Orc’s throat and crushing its windpipe.

Scrambling to his feet, Markus levelled his spear just in time to catch an Orc in the gut.

The Orc immediately stiffened, but it was still driven forward by its previous momentum and sheered the spearhead through to the other side. The weight of the Orc drove the spear from Markus' grip and he was forced to abandon it and draw his sword instead.

Aela was in the thick of it now. Five Orcs had surrounded her and more were still coming. Even outnumbered, she was not making it easy for them. Aela was a whirling dervish of death, her longsword cleaving through exposed flesh as she shattered bones with her shield.

Markus had expected the archers to stop firing to avoid hitting their own allies, but they didn’t. However, the arrows seemed just as incapable of piercing the Orcs' hide as the group of adventurers armour, so he had to admit that there was little incentive for them to stop.

Quickly moving to Aela’s side, Markus readied his longsword.

Three more Orcs were closing fast, two with raw-hide shields and the last brandishing a large stone hammer. No doubt sensing he was easier prey, all three of them rushed headlong towards Markus.

Keenly aware that Aela was in no position to help, Markus considered his options. Or he would have if he had any and had the time to consider them.

The first Orc smashed its shield into Markus’s own and nearly sent Markus barrelling down the mountain. Stronger than even their powerfully muscled bodies had suggested, the Orc easily matched his strength and began pushing Markus backwards.

The second Orc quickly lent its strength to the first and the both of them combined easily sent Markus tumbling head over heels down the mountain path.

Markus lost his hold on his longsword and would have lost his shield too if it was not strapped to his arm. Even though he had kept his shield, Markus almost wished he hadn’t. The fall had wrenched his shoulder and he was having trouble feeling much of anything past the throbbing pain in his shoulder.

“MARKUS!” Aela shoved two Orcs back, her sword flashing and slashing another Orc’s throat. But more Orcs piled in around her before she could break out to help him.

Before Markus could attempt getting to his feet, the Orc with the large hammer stomped its foot down on his breastplate pinning him in place. The breastplate had absorbed the blow, but it was the hammer that now worried Markus.

Awkwardly pulling the dagger from his belt, Markus stabbed at the Orc’s leg with all the force he could muster. Markus had hoped that he could cripple or drive the Orc back long enough to get his feet under him again. But the dagger bounced off the Orc’s skin like he had struck steel.

To repay him for the effort, the Orc brought its hammer crashing down on Markus's helmet. The stone hammerhead exploded in a shower of shrapnel, the handle of the hammer splitting and splintering from the force of the blow.

Dazed and confused, Markus was only vaguely aware of the blows hammering down on his breastplate, arms and legs. He cried out in pain as the shield was viciously pulled free from his arm.

Another Orc was kneeling over him with a stone knife in its hand.

Markus tried to move but the Orcs had him pinned.

Grinning maniacally with murderous intent in its blood-red eyes, the Orc leaned in and began working the tip of the knife through the visor of Markus’s helmet.

Panicking at the thought of being stabbed in the eyes, Markus struggled to free himself. But the Orcs were too strong, their thick strong fingers and corded muscles holding him fast.

There was a sudden explosion and the Orcs pinning him down were engulfed in flames and blasted away.

Markus was sent tumbling further down the mountain before managing to arrest his descent.

Three more explosions thundered in rapid succession.

Scrambling to his feet, Markus quickly looked around for a weapon. But between the multitude of scorched Orc bodies littered the mountainside and the knife still wedged into his visor, he was having little luck.

His attempt to stab the Orc using his dagger made it painfully obvious that his regular weapons would not cut it. If he was going to stand a chance, Markus needed to find his spear. Markus tried pulling the knife out, but it seemed to be wedged in tight.

Aela was still stuck fighting off a small horde of Orcs on her own and more Orcs were joining the fray with each passing moment.

Likewise, Philipe and Kassandra were in a deadlock with the two remaining Orc champions back down the path.

Something smashed into Markus’s thigh and knocked him back down to the ground, the impact stealing his breath away and briefly disorienting him. A larger Orc had suddenly appeared as if from nowhere. It was bigger than even the champions and wore bones lashed to its body as if they were armour.

The bone clad Orc grinned malevolently at Markus, its ruby eyes glinting with malice as it drew a knife from its belt and began stalking towards him.

Knowing that the others were in no position to help him, Markus awkwardly shoved himself back to his feet only to slip and fall as something rolled under his heel. He fell hard onto his right shoulder, the impact causing a fresh wave of agony. Gasping and rolling into his left side, Markus was surprised to find the shaft of his spear laying in the dirt.

Irritated that it was almost certainly what had caused him to trip and fall, Markus nonetheless pushed that thought from his mind and desperately scrambled to take hold of it.

The Orc was growing closer by the moment. It glanced down at the spear, clearly recognizing that Markus intended to defend himself with it. Grinning cruelly, the Orc stomped its foot down on Markus’s fingers just as he was about to grab the spear shaft.

Crying out in pain, Markus recoiled and scrambled backwards.

The Orc bellowed with laughter and made as if to follow him, then it stopped. With an evil glint in its eye, the Orc swapped the knife to its freehand and snatched up the spear instead. Almost immediately, its amusement turned to anger. Thick dark veins webbed outward from the hand holding the spear. The Orc became transfixed on its hand and slowly began inching its knife towards it.

Seeing his chance, Markus got back to his feet, making sure that no loose stones or discarded weapons would trip him up again.

The armoured Orc roared in pain. Its right hand still tightly clutching the spear as it clattered to the ground. With blood still pumping from the stump of its right wrist, the Orc glowered at Markus, the promise of retributive violence in its eyes. It only managed to take one step towards Markus but stopped abruptly as a horn-call peeled through the expanse of the mountain.

Baring its teeth and spitting at Markus, the bone armoured Orc turned and ran. The mass of Orcs surrounding Aela quickly did the same, but several were maimed or crippled the moment they gave her the opening.

Instead of pursuing the fleeing Orcs, Aela tactfully executed those who she had immobilized and then rushed to Markus' side. “Markus! Your arm! Is it broken?” She threw down her shield and sword so she could help him to his feet.

“I don’t think so, I think it’s dislocated,” Markus gratefully took her hand and she pulled him to his feet. He grimaced as Aela firmly prodded and pressed at his shoulder. Looking down the path to make sure Phillipe and Kassandra were not in imminent danger, Markus was almost disappointed to find that they had felled all three Orc champions and were resting.

Aela nodded and appeared somewhat relieved, “It is only dislocated,” she agreed, “I will pop your shoulder back in.” Aela took a vice-like grip on Markus’s wrist and straightened his left arm.

“Wait, what ar-AAAAH!” Markus couldn’t help but cry out in pain as Aela drove his left arm back into its socket.

Aela winced and released her hold on him. “I am sorry for your pain,” she seemed truly conflicted over what she had done.

“It’s, oof, fine,” Markus tried to reassure her but it was difficult with the pain radiating from his shoulder. “Maybe you should use the spear,” he gestured to his spear still laying in the dirt. “I don’t think I am strong enough to use It very well yet."

Aela had been retrieving her sword and shield as he made the suggestion. “Are you sure?” She looked anxious and uncertain “What weapon will you use if I take the spear?"

“I think I should probably just stick with my shield,” Markus grimaced as he considered his contributions to the engagement. He had only managed to kill a single Orc close to the outset of the fight and been left all but cowering for the remainder. “It will serve better in your hands than mine."

Aela slowly nodded but obviously held some reservations as she took up the spear.

His left shoulder felt stiff and still hurt. Using the shield and trying not to aggravate his injury would be difficult enough as it was. Some of the muscles had probably torn when he fell, so it was for the best that Aela had the spear. Strapping the shield to his good arm pretty much proved it. Even the limited motions and effort caused his shoulder to ache painfully.

“That was a close call,” Phillipe sighed as he and his sister rejoined them. “Three champions, a chieftain’s bodyguard and who knows how many other Orcs-"

“Fifty-seven,” Aela hissed.

“What? Oh, really?” Phillipe looked incredulous at first, did some quick math on his fingers and then slowly began to nod in agreement, “No, I think you’re right. My apologies,” he bowed his head before returning to his original line of thought, “What I am most curious about, is why the chieftain ordered the retreat. No offence intended, but we were hardly presenting a strong enough resistance to warrant it."

Aela glanced briefly at Markus before looking further up the mountain, “Beowulf and Skadi must be close to the heart,” she murmured quietly. “We should hurry. Beowulf is strong but stubborn."

“One of our absent companions I take it?” Phillipe observed.

Markus nodded, “They were pretty eager to get started."

“Bloody stupid running off on their own,” Kassandra muttered.

Markus was considering making a comment to the effect of the pot calling the kettle black but was interrupted when the horn sounded again. “Alright, let’s try following the same route the Orcs used to retreat. Maybe we will be able to see something from up there on the ridge."

He had expected some pushback on the idea but was surprised when not even Kassandra voiced an objection. The three of them just nodded in quiet and agreement and began the difficult advance up the steep incline.

Markus regretted his suggestion almost immediately. Keeping his balance was painful at best and torturous at worst. The need to use both his arms to keep his balance kept painfully aggravating his shoulder.

Unlike before, Phillipe and Kassandra had now unwittingly become the vanguard as Aela hung back to keep pace with Markus. She seemed at odds with herself. Simultaneously worried for her brother and Skadi, impatient to come to their aid. But Aela was also unwilling to leave his side, no doubt fearful that Markus would topple back down the incline at any moment and break his neck. It was not an entirely unfounded fear, Markus had nearly lost his balance a number of times already and although he had managed to right himself without needing her assistance, he was not confident enough to wave her off.

“Well, fuck...” Phillipe cursed and held both his hands out ahead of himself, “let’s try to even the odds a little!” A small fiery orb sped away from his outstretched fingers and streaked out of sight. “Brace!” Phillipe called out as both he and Kassandra ducked down and leaned forward.

Unsure of what to expect because he was only halfway up the incline. Markus did the best he could manage and leaned so far forward he nearly faced first in the rocks and dirt.

Aela did the same, wrapping her shield arm over him protectively and holding him fast against the mountainside.

A couple of seconds later, an explosion like the whipping crack of a thunderclap rocked the mountain and was shortly followed by a blisteringly hot wave of air that no doubt would have knocked Markus off the mountain if Aela hadn’t kept him firmly locked in place. Debris, both large and small rained down all around them.

When Aela withdrew her arm and restored Markus's line of sight, he saw Phillipe leaning heavily on his sister for support. Whatever magic he had used must have depleted most of his remaining mana to tire him like that.

With Aela’s help, the pair of them quickly reached the ridgeline alongside the others. Now they could see for themselves the devastation unleashed by Phillipe’s magic.

They were now standing on a ridge overlooking a large basin in the mountainside. At the far end of the basin was a large cave. To the right of it was a well-worn path leading outside the basin. Orc bodies littered the ground everywhere. some were not quite dead and were crawling or staggering towards the cave.

“Beowulf, Skadi and the dungeon heart are in there,” Aela pointed to the cave then looked expectantly at Markus to decide what they should do.

Besides Aela, only Kassandra was in any real condition to fight. Markus was injured and Phillipe was low on mana. It made their choices rather simple. They had to press onward and hope that the six of them would be enough to defeat the boss monster protecting the heart.

“We should push on while we have the upper hand,” Phillipe reluctantly stopped leaning on his sister for support, “If we do not, then this will all have been for naught."

Kassandra nodded in agreement, “Better to strike while the iron is hot. I still have most of my mana, I could probably kill the boss myself,” she boasted, much to her brother’s chagrin.

Aela scowled at Kassandra, “I am still in fighting condition as well."

Before either of them could pick a fight, Markus redirected their animosity elsewhere. “Alright. Aela and Kassandra will clear a path through the remaining Orcs, while Phillipe and I will follow. When we reach the cave, we can decide how to proceed from there."

No doubt guessing what Markus was doing, Phillipe was quick to lend his support, “I agree. We should get moving right away,” he gently nudged his sister to help him down into the basin.

Taking his lead, Markus turned to Aela, “Help me down the ridge?” He asked somewhat sheepishly.

Aela smiled and nodded, “Alright,” she swapped the spear to her shield hand and offered her arm for Markus to lean on.

Leaning on Aela still hurt, but it hurt significantly less compared to scaling the incline on his own had. With her support, reaching the bottom only took Markus a fraction of the time compared to the climb minutes before. Grateful for the assistance, he squeezed her arm appreciatively before they separated, “Thanks, Aela."

Aela smiled and nodded as she returned the spear to her primary hand in preparation for their assault.

After sharing only a brief glance with one another, Aela and Kassandra began methodically culling the Orcs in their path while Markus and Phillipe cautiously followed behind them.

The Orcs were in no condition to put up a fight. Those that could walk had already rushed into the cave, leaving their crippled and dying kin to their inevitable fate.

Markus held little sympathy for the monsters. He knew that if their positions were reversed, the Orcs would feel no sympathy for him or his companions. On the contrary, the Orcs would almost certainly revel in the act of killing them.

It wasn't for the first time that Markus wondered why the dungeons came into being and what purpose they were intended to serve. He hoped that analysing the dungeon heart would prove enlightening on the subject. However, Markus was also keenly aware that the dungeon heart may provide no answers at all.

Nearing the cave, distant sounds of battle echoed from within and were accompanied by the guttural shouts of more Orcs. Only a few Orcs had managed to escape Aela and Kassandra’s rigorous culling, so it seemed Phillipe’s earlier estimations on the Orcs numbers were correct.

“I don’t suppose you can manage another one of those explosions again?” Markus asked although he suspected he knew the answer already.

Phillipe regretfully shook his head, “Even if I had the mana, which I don’t, such an explosion in a confined space would be suicide,” he shrugged apologetically.

“Well...It sounds like Beowulf and Skadi are still putting up a fight inside,” Markus turned to face the others, “I’ll give us some light." The cave already had a number of lit torches dimly illuminating a spiralling passage descending downward. But thinking of his first experience in a dungeon had left him feeling paranoid. So Markus enchanted the buckle of everyone’s sword belt to emit a clean white light.

“I will take the lead,” Aela announced and readied her shield.

“I’ll take second,” Kassandra added while eyeing Aela antagonistically.

“I guess that leaves us as rearguard then,” Phillipe tactfully interjected before either of the pair could say something they would regret. He gave Markus a quick thumbs up while Aela and Kassandra weren’t looking.

Markus had to fight the urge to smile, instead loudly clearing his throat and falling in alongside Phillipe. WIth his mana so heavily depleted, Markus and Phillipe were in pretty much the same position in terms of combat effectiveness.

However, with that in mind, Markus really hoped that the fighting would already be well in hand before they reached the boss monster. Particularly since the last thing he wanted, was to fearfully watch a fight turn sour from the sidelines, and have no way of changing the outcome.