“I regained consciousness when Sergeant Bluebeard appeared from the tunnel, the girl in hand. I verbally reprimanded him for being a willing accomplice to Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood’s unauthorized expedition. Sergeant Bluebeard was charged with his fifth disciplinary hearing under my tenure. (Filed as his 698th grievance under his permanent career record). I then Sergeant Bluebeard as to why Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood was not present.”

- From Patrol Report. Year 3000, 5th day of BloomingTide. Captain Elric Falmore

The first thing I heard when I woke was a mumble.

The next thing I noticed was that everything was dark, and finally that everything hurt. Someone or something was pinching against my chest. It was hard to breathe.

However, the pain brought clarity to my thoughts. I started to remember what happened. The tunnels. The bridge. The last thing I saw. Crumbling stone and screaming troggs. Falling into the abyss.

Was I dead?

This certainly wasn’t how I imagined the afterlife. The Church of the Light said all who proved themselves would become one with the Light upon death, living in eternal splendor and contentment. Those who did not were damned into the horrible chasm known as the twisting nether, where souls would wail and languish in eternity.

The mumble changed into an incomprehensible chirp. It sounded like…someone trying to say something? I couldn’t make sense of the words.

At the moment, it didn’t feel quite like eternal damnation or eternal bliss. I certainly still had a body. I couldn’t see worth a damn but I could feel that I was laying on some… rocky slope. The pinch in my chest was getting worse. I moved my hands over my chest. It felt like…armor?

I was still wearing my armor. I was still alive. How did I survive the fall?

I could feel the dent in the chestplate. That was the cause of the pain, my armor must have been caved in during the fall. My sense of smell began to return. I could smell something…something foul. I turned my head.

That was a mistake. Even in the dark I could recognize the outline of the dead trogg’s face. The sudden appearance made me involuntarily breathe, deeply. I got a mouthful of something that resembled cow manure and old sweat.

It was too much. I flipped to the side, and emptied the contents of my stomach.

I was alive. Yes, I just swallowed the equivalent of a mouthful of cow manure but I was still alive.

The pain in my chest was unbearable now. I reached to my sides. There were release straps under there. I couldn’t reach it with my gauntlets on, so I removed them. The metal gloves fell with a clank. I tried again and pulled the leather loose. My chest and shoulder plates came undone and fell free.

The pain vanished. I gasped. I could taste the musky cave air. I was still in the tunnels.

How long had it been? Did Bluebeard make it out? Where was I?

The chirping started to morph. It started to resemble words that made sense.

“--lyzing lan----, Analyz--- lang----.”

“Is there anyone there?” I asked.

“Linguistic analysis complete….” I heard in a monotone voice.

“Who… Who are you?” I asked. I still couldn’t see anything. I tried to call the light energy to illuminate… wherever I was. I raised my hand. There was a flash of light that sputtered out immediately. I saw a lot of rubble, dead troggs, and furniture? I also noticed I was in what appeared to be a room, the ceiling completely gone.

I tried to tug more energy from my core, to reignite the light. No luck. I was dry. My last seal must have completely drained me. I should have expected it. I didn’t expect to live through this. It was going to take hours until I recovered enough energy for even a simple light.

“Unauthorized lifeform detected…analyzing… Lifeform analyzed… Titan hereditary detected… communication authorized…,” it said in the monotone unfeeling voice. It was eerie.

“Hello?” I asked again. I searched the ground and picked up a rock. I held it up like a small pummel. I wasn’t sure if it would help, but having even a simple weapon made me feel safe. I had no idea if the thing was a threat an ally or neither.

I couldn’t even figure out where it was coming from. Every time it spoke, the voice seemed to come from… everywhere.

“Salutations lifeform. You are speaking with a construct of the Titan Lorekeeper Beldaron. Requesting identification…

“A wha-… what do you mean?” I asked. I remembered Bluebeard mentioning the Titans… usually every time he cursed or complained. He used it in same vein as the word ancestor. From what I remembered he said they were the ancient predecessors of the dwarves.

“Analyzing…Bluebeard identified as dwarf…earthen variant…your analysis would be a correct yet imprecise definition of Titan,” the thing said.

“Wait, how did you know that?” I asked. I didn’t say a single word. Was it reading my mind?

“An accurate description. My current location prevents direct physical feedback…We are currently conversing through mental channels…Requesting identification,” it asked.

“Wait, you are in my head!?” I asked.

“Negative. I am not physically or mentally present in your being or non-corporeal being… conducting translation…the word ‘spirit medium’ would be the closest fit…Requesting identification,” it said.

I stood still, absorbing the whole situation. I had just somehow survived a fall from a height that should have killed me, and now I was talking to a voice in my head. I must have gone mad.

“Negative…I observed the integrity of your non-corporeal self…no abnormalities detected…Requesting identif-,

“Wait, stop, stop, stop. Stop reading my mind!” I yelled.

“Recommending unauthorized lifeform to lower volume of physical feedback…local aberrations are deceased yet more are likely present…unwanted attention ill-advised…Requesting identification,” it said.

Did the thing just tell me to shut up?

“Crude description but accurate interpretation… Requesting identification,” it said.

I sighed. The thing kept asking me to identify myself. I had a feeling it was going to keep doing until I obliged.

“I am Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood, and please stop reading my thoughts. It is unnerving. Um, I have some questions,” I whispered.

“Request accepted…This construct will refrain from reading your mental stimuli… Identification accepted… Salutations Knight-Lieutenant Riverwood… awaiting input,” it said.

I relaxed a bit. I took that to mean I was clear to ask.

“Who are you and where am I?” I asked.

“I am a construct, a copy, of the original Titan Lorekeeper Deldaron. My purpose is to retain knowledge in my memory banks for storage and safekeeping. You are currently located in the lower regions of facility Uldaman. Structural integrity of this portion has decayed 7000 cycles ago. I was notified by current operational room sensors of the sudden descent of debris and aberrations. I believe you refer to them as troggs… Your descent was abnormal. You have been identified as not a threat, hence why communication channels have been opened."

That was a lot to process, and made no sense to me. The last part however, did. “Abnormal? In what way?” I asked.

“The aberrations fell at a velocity commensurate with maximum terminal levels according to the density of the local atmosphere. Velocity at that range was fatal to aberrations. You maintained a steady velocity well below terminal levels. Once you regained consciousness, I attempted to interface with you,” it replied.

“Can you say that… in something less confusing?” I asked.

“Processing request… translating... the troggs fell fast, you fell slowly, I woke you up,” it replied.

Why would I fall slow… Then I realized. I reached to a pouch in my belt. I felt the familiar soft shape. The slow-fall feather! I forgot I had it on. I would have to thank Alamere for reminding me to bring it before we left main camp.

If I ever saw him again. I needed to get out of here.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” I asked.

“Processing… Error… request unspecified,” it responded.

“Wait what do you mean?” I asked.

“Request unspecified… requires clarification,” it responded.

I sighed in frustration. Talking to this Lorekeeper was like talking to a gnome. Singlepipe and I rarely had conversations for this reason. He didn’t understand common phrases, and always needed specifics.

“Is there a pathway that leads to the surface,” I asked sighing again. Then I quickly added.

“In such a way that will not result in my own mutilation, decapitation, or destruction such as the loss of my life, limb, hearing, eyesight, or any functional senses?” If he was like a gnome, as his strange vocabulary suggested, then caution was always advised whenever asking for help.

There was a brief silence. I think it was contemplating my request.

“Yes."

“Can you lead me to it?” I asked, my voice rising with hope.

“Yes. however, I have a request."

Always a catch. So be it. Aunt Tiana taught me that a deal should always be fair.

“Alright. What is your request?” I asked.

“When this facility collapsed, my physical drive was present…Protocols require that my drive be relocated to the facility mainframe and reintegrate with Keeper Archaedeas… I currently lack sufficient motor capabilities to carry out this protocol. My physical drive is small enough that an earthen would be able to lift it with one hand."

“So… you just need me to move you from here to this ‘mainframe’… right?” I asked.

“Correct."

Well that sounded easy enough.

“Okay. You have a deal. I get you to… whatever this ‘mainframe’ is, and you tell me how to get out of here. Easy. Now how am I supposed to find you?” I asked.

“My physical drive is an object consisting of densely packed minerals,” it said.

“So… a rock?” I asked.

“An accurate description of the physical nature,” it replied.

Well that helped narrow it down. All I saw during the brief flash of light were rocks on the ground. Not like it mattered since I still couldn’t see worth a damn.

Then I felt something tugging at my belt. It was the torch! I pulled it out along with some flint and tinder in a survival kit I had in another pouch. With a few sparks I got the torch lit. The dim red light came back into being, illuminating the ground around me.

Well that took care of one problem.

“Is there anything else you could tell me about your physical drive? Like a shape? Patterns?” I asked.

“The shape is in the form of a circle. The surface should be smooth."

So a smooth rock shaped disc. I started searching. The room was big enough to be the common area for a large tavern. His description wasn’t that helpful but it would narrow down the search. I began to walk around.

I noticed several things. Everything was made of some type of stone that was immensely sleek. There were incredibly precise designs on the walls. I had never seen such perfect circles or squares even in elven or dwarven architecture. Besides that, the rest of the room was littered with shelves, whatever contents they held long gone.

Something glimmered, reflected the light of my torch. I stepped toward it and took a closer look. It was Captain Falmore’s sword.

“Have you discovered my physical drive?” Lorekeeper Deldaron asked.

“No, not yet. I found something useful though,” I said. “Didn’t you agree not to read my thoughts?”

“Apologies… It has been 4000 cycles since this construct has last interacted with another sentient being,” it replied.

Well at least whatever I interacted with manners. The sword was standing up, still stuck in the dead trogg. I grabbed the hilt and with some effort, got it free. The weapon was still slick with blood. It wasn’t my ideal weapon but it was better than nothing. Hopefully it would serve me better the next time. I resumed looking.

I was also curious about the being that I spoke, and its odd choice of words.

“That was the second time you mentioned cycles. I’m not familiar with the term. Care to explain?” I asked.

“Certainly. Such questions are within my parameters. A cycle represents a single revolution of this planetary being around its solar parent,” it responded.

I thought about the implications of what he said. I think the oldest elf to ever live had lived up to 400 years. 4000 revolutions… I remembered from the basic astrology and navigation class… that was 4000 years. This thing had been left alone for almost ten-fold the time of the longest living elf I knew. I actually felt bad for… whatever it was. That was a long time to be left alone without talking to anyone.

I resisted the urge to ask more questions. I had to escape, get out of here. I made a quick promise to myself to not partake in anymore crazy endeavors. Don’t be a hero. Get out, have a hot bath, return to Northshire, live a peaceful life.

I continued searching through the ruins. Then I came across something that resembled a disc. It was smooth and part of it was poking out of the rubble.

“I think I found it,” I said.

“Analyzing…Physical feedback detected…Sensory module obstructed… This construct requests you remove the obstruction."

I walked towards it and picked it out of the rocks. The disc was covered in dust, and I swept it clean with a hand.

Then the disc lit up with blue light. I shut my eyes from the sudden flash.

“Hey!” I yelped.

“Obstructions removed… analyzing organism… corruption present… 20%.... within reasonable margins…. Conducting full physical scan… Strength: 31, Agility 28, Stamina 32, Spirit 33, Intelligence 30… aptitude for cosmic force detected….,” it spouted off.

“Could you warn me before doing something like that?” I asked. My eyes still hurt.

“Apologies… This construct was unaware of the sensitivity of your peripheral organs,” it replied.

I took back whatever I said about the thing having manners. This thing was reminding me of Singlepipe with each second, always poking and prodding in places that weren’t his own business. I reopened my eyes. The blue light was flickering vividly, it flicked faster and faster until it shined continuously. Then a figure took shape above the disc.

“Greetings! I have created a projection to better relate to your organic faculties,” Lorekeeper Deldaron said.

Well what did you know. It was a gnome. Well not really. The projection looked like the result of a gnome built by a gnome. It had a mettalic body and odd synthetic eyes. It even had a metal mustache.

“You’re a gnome?” I asked.

“Incorrect…This construct is merely an automaton that has been imprinted from the original Lorekeeper, a titan watcher…it has found the mechano-gnomish structure is far more visibly appealing and appropriate so it identifies as such,” it replied.

Great. I was talking to an ancient dwarven precursor construct that identified as gnome. In my head. If this wasn’t a result of me losing my mind, it was turning out to be one wild story I would never be able to live down.

“And what was that you said at the end?” I asked.

“This construct was conducting a full scan of your corporeal and non-corporeal forms… corruption levels within reason, however recommending corrective action…cause identified as ‘curse of flesh’… I recommend you return to a re-processing plant for immediate dismemberment and purification,” it said.

“Thanks… but I’ll be fine,” I replied. I wasn’t so sure what Lorekeeper Deldaron meant by corruption but I had a feeling it meant something far differently than what I had imagined. I didn’t see how flesh was a curse, and I was a paladin after all. Highly doubt corruption meshed with being able to wield the holy light. I also had no intention of going to this “re-processing plant”. Especially if it involved dismemberment.

“And that part about strength? Agility? Cosmic aptitude?” I asked.

“Biological capabilities…Cosmic aptitude refers to your capability to utilize cosmic force…translating…light energy,” it replied.

I wanted to ask more questions but it was time to focus on the task at hand.

“Alright give me a moment, let me get prepared before we depart,” I said.

“Acknowledged…,” Lorekeeper Deldarron responded and the projection vanished.

I laid out everything I had in my four belt pouches. I had no idea what would happen once we left and I wanted to know what I had available.

One mithril officer’s knife. The metal was as light as wood yet twice as strong as steel. That would come in handy. Flint and Steel Kit. Four empty potion vials that were cracked. Seven hearthstone pebbles. Some rolls of parchment with a pen. One blue mana vial. Two small muffins that Alamere had conjured a week ago.

I left the empty potion vials on the ground. I clenched myself before popping open the mana vial. This wasn’t going to be pleasant; it was my third vial of the day. I quickly drank the contents. I felt the same alcoholic aftertaste, but now there was a horrible churning feeling in my stomach. I lurched forward, coughing. Symptoms of potion-overdose. I had little choice though. I needed all the energy before going forward.

I grabbed a muffin and chewed, trying to eat something to keep the potion down. It was tasteless, tough, and did not at all taste pleasant. I was not surprised. Alamere always did a half-hearted job when it came to conjuring food from whatever materials he used. I am pretty sure it was sand this time, judging by the grainy texture of the bread. Bluebeard always provided not-so-helpful-or-nice comments on the results of his work which only made the elf defensive and spiteful. The end result being the rest of us had to stomach whatever food was made.

I swallowed, trying to ignore the feeling that I was digesting bits of rock and ate the other muffin. Time passed and the pain went away. I took a look at my mana gauge. The blue bar read 35%.

Then I scribbled out a note on a piece of parchment. A letter stating, I was still alive. I tied it up, put a hearthstone next to it, then let a bit of light energy flow into the stone.

Nothing happened.

“Why isn’t it working?” I whispered to myself.

“There is currently an arcane barrier surrounding this complex. It remains active and is preventing the use of unauthorized portal connections,” Lorekeeper Deldaroon said.

“So it is interfering with the hearthstone?” I asked.

“Correct. The stone is attempting to open a portal. Access is being negated by the barrier,” it replied.

Great… I was cut off from the outside world. That means I had no way of letting the others know I was still alive.

I stood up. It was time to go. “I am ready. So how do we get to where you need to go?” I asked.

Lorekeeper Deldaron’s projection reappeared.

“The mainframe is located down this hallway. I shall provide directions,” it said then it pointed to a wall.

Looking closely, I realized it wasn’t a wall but a door. The edges of it had faded away with time. I put my hand against it and lightly pushed.

It fell to the ground with a loud crash then splintered into pieces. Whoops, I guess time had taken its toll.

“I recommend avoiding unnecessary audio feedback…

“I got it. I got it. I’ll keep it quiet,” I whispered.

We walked into the hallway ahead. One arm held up the dim red light torch. The other arm held the stone disc. Lorekeeper Deldaron’s projection stood to my right.

We came an intersection. I noticed something familiar lining one of the corners. Small black sprouts with a light top. It reminded me of something I had seen in Aunt Tiana’s herbalism books. I took a closer look and recognized it for what it was.

Ghost Mushrooms. They were rare in supply, mostly because they grew in deep caves which were usually inhabited by relatively unfriendly creatures. Herb farmers hoarded them because of how valuable they were for potions. I knew at least two recipes one could make with just those, some water, and a fire. Aunt Tiana always wanted some to start her own farm.

“Are you well?” Lorekeeper Deldaron asked.

“Yes. Hold one moment,” I said. I moved forward to collect the mushrooms.

“I do not understand the purpose of your efforts… ,” it said.

“Just hold on,” I replied. I took out my mithril officer’s knife and started to cut away. There were five mushrooms. They fell off the stalks and into my hands. I put them away in the empty potion pouch. A little present when I got back to Northshire.

We continued on, Lorekeeper Deldaron would point the way every time we came to another intersection.

The hallways were similar to the one Bluebeard and I had passed through. These however, were sized to normal proportions. It made me wonder what sort of being or beings originally wandered the halls.

“How many ye- cycles ago was this place built?” I asked.

“64,000 cycles based on my memory banks,” Lorekeeper Deldaron said.

64,000 years!? If what it said were true, this place was truly ancient. The historians back at the capital would have a field day if they were here. The dwarves definitely would. Maybe the discovery would be enough to not get me in too much trouble once I got back to the main camp.

Everything was quiet save for the sound of my boots. I decided to pass the time by whispering some questions.

“You mentioned you were a construct…a copy of the original Lorekeeper correct?” I asked.

“Yes."

“Where is he, or she, or whatever it is now?"

“The original Lorekeeper’s whereabouts are unknown. I do not possess sufficient information in my memory banks. Although there may be information available once we reach the mainframe."

“And the Lorekeeper was a Titan? Were they dwarves?”

“Incorrect. Dwarves are a derivation of the original earthen. A titan creation. Like yourself."

“Wait so the Titans made the dwarves? And humans? Who were the titans?”

“Yes. The Titans are the makers. I do not possess sufficient information in my memory banks to answer your remaining questions. This may be rectified once we reach the mainframe."

For someone who was supposed to hold knowledge, he didn’t seem to know very much .

The hallway stopped in front of a door.

“The mainframe can be found through that passage,” Lorekeeper Deldarron said.

I placed a hand on the door. I checked the hinges this time. It looked sturdy enough. I still had to be careful. I placed ahand and applied some slight pressure. The door creaked open.

The space inside was completely dark and void of light, save my flickering torch. I could feel a sense of nothingness and openness so I knew this place was far larger than a normal room. After a while I was hit with a sudden rank stench in the air. I walked a good distance in when my foot nearly kicked a trogg.

It was definitely a trogg. The creature was lying down face-up. Its eyes were closed and it made a soft purring sound as it breathed in and out. I waved my torch around then saw more sleeping by pillars or resting against the wall. This was no room. It was a cavern and it was infested with them.

“This construct has detected multiple aberrations in the vicinity…current calculation at 36…45.."

I didn’t say anything and I really did not want to know how many of those things were in here. I was not going to wake these things up.

I stepped back. Slowly, trying not to make a sound. I squeezed back through the door and out.

“This facility is currently contaminated with aberrations…caution is advised."

“You could have warned me before I stepped on one. Is there any other way to the mainframe?” I asked.

“There is a detour. However, it will take significantly more time,” Lorekeeper Deldarron responded.

“Yes… lets,” I said.

I looked at the door and decided to close it. Even at a whisper my voice echoed down the halls. I did not feel the need to wake those things up.

I pushed it shut. There was a cracking sound, then the hinge crumbled and the door fell. The crash of stone upon stone reverberated through the hallways.

At that moment, I briefly dwelled on whether or not some mighty being hated my guts.

I didn’t dwell on this too long because I could hear the familiar noise of a pack of angry half-naked troggs being woken up. I ran.

“I have detected multiple…,” Lorekeeper Deldaron started. “I know! I know!” I interrupted.

I started running. The noise turned to howls. I could hear the familiar thumping of feet.

“I must not fall into the hands of the aberrations…. The aberrations will cause irreversible damage to the physical disc of this construct,” it said. Great, at least we were agreed on that particular subject. I certainly didn’t want to imagine what the troggs would do to me. I saw the bite marks on the orcs. They did not seem to die pleasantly. I kept running.

“I have detected you will not outrun the lifeforms at your current physical capabilities… I will recommend an alternate course of action."

“Really?! Please explain!” I said. I kept running.

“Follow my instructions at the next intersection,” it said.

I followed. I could hear the troggs on my back. I had no idea where I was going and hopefully neither did the troggs. I wasn’t going to put that theory to the test by stopping anytime soon though.

Then we came to another door. This time I just pushed through. It fell like all the others in a heap of debris.

In the room were an assortment of artifacts and things I couldn’t recognize. Staves shaped in strange shapes. Piles of armor. There was something however standing in the center. It was a large mirror.

“Okay. Now what?” I huffed.

“My memory banks indicate this room used to serve as an ancient Titan proto-transport device. The device in question is currently located in the center. It has been deactivated but remains functional."

“Great! So, it is some type of portal? Where does it lead? Because the last thing I want is to be teleported into the middle of a pack of troggs or light-knows where else!” I huffed.

“The device has not been used in 13,000 cycles. I do not possess sufficient information in my memory banks to-,”

The screaming got louder. I could see shadows dancing from the hallway.

“Just tell me how to use it!” I yelled.

“Sufficient physical force should activate the device for a single use,” it said.

In a different time, I would have contemplated the sanity of jumping through a supposed ancient portal without knowing where it led. I heard stories of mages testing out their portals, landing in the middle of the ocean or the top of a mountain. These weren’t ordinary times. Quite desperate I would say, and as the old saying goes, desperate times called for desperate measures.

I took a deep breath, charged, and jumped toward the mirror.