The large, or overgrown, lizard snarled at George. And he wasn’t alone. There were a few more like him that George could spot without turning his head, or his eyes, from the spear.

It looked rather sharp.

The lizard snarled at him again. If he was speaking, George was a terrible listener. He just smiled and not nod in response. Seemed like an obvious thing to do when you didn’t understand someone.

George had instinctively held up his hands but was now contemplating on just giving the book in hopes it would net him his life. Maybe.

He inched his arm down, but a small jab of the spear near his throat and another snarl put it back up again.

Considering that he couldn’t do much and that there was obviously a language barrier, George decided to at least have a good look at his executioners.

The lizards were walking on two legs, something obvious from the fact that they were holding weapons. They had a colourful ridge of scales, similar to a mane, going from their forehead to the back he couldn’t see, and they were mostly green otherwise, with a slightly yellowish chest and belly.

After a few more snarls, even the lizard realised there was a major language barrier. He then turned to another one and produced less guttural and elongated snarls, as if making a proper sentence in another language.

George was still in a dire situation with no way out. If there was a Deity that could help him, now was the proper time for one to appear.

“Look, can’t we figure this out-” George spoke, then was promptly shut up by another jab with the spear.

The stalemate of George’s throat being near a spear tip continued until two lizards appeared. George assumed that one of them was returning, but they all looked terribly similar to one another. George realised that was a bit racist. Or speciesist.

The ‘other’ lizard looked a lot slimmer than the few around him. George postulated that was a female, based on preconceived notions about lizard people gender differences.

She stood right across him, being a bit taller than he was, and put a hand on his forehead. Then she started chanting in a completely different language, but it sounded similar to the chant he used for the spells.

After the chanting stopped, George could feel a jolt on his forehead and his ears rang.

The lizard opened his mouth again, but this time it was different.

“Who are you Human, and how did you get here?”

That was a wholly different experience for George. The language didn’t seem to change, but he could understand it now. It was obvious they weren’t speaking English, but he clearly understood it as such.

“Ummm,” George gulped, trying to figure out if there’s an actual answer, “I’m George, and I… walked?”

The lizard made a grimace, as much as his face could contort into one. “Don’t lie, Human. Nobody lives below us. How did you get here?”

At least George was right, he was getting upwards. That still didn’t help him to clarify.

The woman lizard, or what he assumed she was, answered for him. “Oh let it go, Kr’Thuk.” The last part came out weird, and more snarly than English. Maybe whatever he was on, probably a spell, couldn’t translate names well.

“You see he bears the mark of the Guardian. Let him go.” George was even more confused by that. He bore the mark of what? What was the mark? Was it the book?

“Hmpf,” the spear-holder did his best impression of disapproval and took the spear away from George’s throat.

George ushered a quick “thanks,” then continued, “but what is the mark, and what is the ‘Guardian’? And how do I understand you?”

The lizard woman looked all over George’s body and then into his eyes, then at the book. “You have no idea where you are, don’t you?”

George just shrugged in response.

The lizard woman looked more amused than anything. “Astonishing. Humans usually say they know everything. You are weird,” she said with a chuckle. “Follow me.”

George and the lizard woman started walking slowly, making way through the cavern. Now that his life didn’t seem in immediate danger, he could slowly get a glimpse of his surroundings.

“Umm, I still have no clue what you are talking about. And what did you do, with the forehead and me understanding you?” George’s stance changed from alarmed to inquisitive.

They passed at least several tents and more lizards. Whatever this was, these lizards were living here.

“Are you not a holder of a spellbook, George?” Her way of saying his name was a lot more like ‘Grrrg’ but he decided not to say anything about that. “How can you not know spells?”

George tapped on the book, which was somehow getting cleaned from blood by itself. “It’s mostly empty.”

George could feel the lizard woman get more intrigued by him as he spoke. Perhaps he should start making more sense.

“Then maybe it isn’t your spellbook,” she said bluntly, “powerful magic surrounds a spellbook, and nobody but the owner can glean into its contents. You don’t look like you could steal one, but looks can often be deceiving,” she spoke while looking directly into his eyes. “It’s a great boon if you have killed a sorcerer that would go against the Guardian, and you should be rewarded by him.”

George decided to not provide more about the book until he knew more about everything. His mind wandered when he smelled burning meat. Like a barbeque.

“Before all that, could I have something to eat?” he asked, hoping that whatever they were doing was equivalent of making friends.

The lizard woman just chuckled. “Ha, humans, always wanting something.”

She showed him towards one of the larger tents, and he followed her inside. The tent had a lot of, well it could be called furniture. There were pots, some sprawled out skins, some weapons, and a few really short tables.

The lizard woman sat down at the table at the centre and motioned him to sit opposite her, so he did.

“I am Kr'thra, and we, the Grolari, welcome you as a fellow comrade.”

George struggled to understand her. “Wait, how are we comrades now?”

“We all bear the same mark of the Guardian,” she said, then pointed to a large tattoo on her side. It was nothing he had seen before and looked like one of those tribal tattoos that were ever so popular to get.

A lizard entered a tent carrying some bowls and laid them in front of George. One had water, or what George hoped was water, in it, while the other had some grilled meat.

He looked at the water bowl and saw his reflection. The same tattoo that the lizard woman, Kr'thra, had on her side was sprawled across half his face, going back down his cheek and chin and continuing towards his neck. It was both bizarre and cool at the same time.

So, he was marked by something. And he’s apparently buddies with the lizard people. Could be worse.

“But who is the Guardian?” George asked. Maybe it was the Deity he was supposed to choose for the book to ‘work’ in a sense.

Kr'thra just opened her arms and waved at the air. “Everything around us is the Guardian. We defend the Guardian’s power, and in turn, he provides us with shelter and food.”

So, not exactly a Deity. George is more like a slave. That just became worse.

The Dungeon at Skull Mount woke from slumber and Far Sighted around it. It learned to do so every so often to be prepared for any invasion that might come its way. It cost a lot of mana to do so constantly, but an occasional one was great for gathering information.

It saw a large band of people travelling from the east, the same direction the ones that took out the eastern core came from. They were surely coming to try and finish the job.

The Dungeon started putting more traps on the entrance and alarmed its inhabitants to keep watch for enemies. It was only a few hours until the invaders came, and the Dungeon was adamant to win this time.