“What do we’ve got ‘ere!”

The door to the back room slammed open and out stepped a stout Dragonborn. His paunch was so wide that he slipped past the narrow doorway sideways and held both arms high to keep them out of the way.

“What’ve I told you about sneakin’ ‘round my house, little Chaeli!”

Chilly blinked from his place on the bar, as Chaeli materialized in one of the large Dragonborn’s upraised arms. She hung limply in his grip, her arms covering her face as silent shudders wracked her shoulders.

“There there, no need to get all leaky.” The Dragonborn lowered her onto the bar. “Everything’s alright, m’not mad. Honest. Tell old Rahlin what’s scared you so, an’ I’ll beat it up.”

Ralhin, the stout dragonborn and presumed barkeep, smashed both fists together in a resounding crash. A shockwave blasted Chilly back in his chair, as he blinked dust out of his eyes.

“Oi! Trying t’ get some shut eye!” One of the few drunk patrons protested.

“Ah, shut it, Jeff.” Rahlin roared right back. “Put yer head down and you’ll be out before you’re ‘ead hits the table!”

“How can I when you’re smashing your fists around like you’re trying to wake the dead?”

“At this rate, it might ‘en do you some good!”

“What’s a man gotta do to get some shut eye,” the patron groused. “The witch is bad enough, and now we got ol’ Rara beating his meat like his fourteen again.”

There was a general chuckle from the rest of the patron’s.

Rahlin’s slitted lizard eyes narrowed dangerously and he slammed a meaty fist into the bar. A crack like gunfire shook the bar, silencing the rowdy group.

“My house, my rules.” Rahlin growled, low and dark. “If’n you don’t like it, get out.” Little flashes of red flames sneaked past his alligator jaws and tickled up his scaly cheeks.

The rest of the patrons grumbled quietly, but didn’t mount a protest. Chilly noted that none of the patron’s actually left.

“Now then, what’s got you all teared up little Chaeli?” Rahlin turned towards his charge sitting daintily on the bar. She sniffled and pointed at Chilly, and the big lizard turned towards him.

“Oho! If it ain’t the human. Been years since I’ve danced with one of your kind. How about it? Wanna spar?”

Chilly glanced at the stout lizards bulging biceps. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“Ah, you’re no fun. How ‘bout you and Chaeli have a little friendly bout. Ain’t nothing like a good fisting to fix up friendly troubles.” Rahlin grinned wide, his eyes twinkling as rows of carnivorous teeth flashed in the dim tavern lighting.

“Uh,” Chilly said, taken aback, “No. No fisting for me. I’m good, thanks.”

“Then what’re you ‘ere for, human?” Rahlin leaned over the bar, towering over Chilly. Little flames playing at the edge of his lips.

Chilly shot a glance at Chaeli, then sighed. “Just have a problem that I need some help with. Accidentally struck a nerve with Chaeli. Sorry about that by the way.”

Chaeli sniffled, but nodded.

Rahlin gave Chilly an appraising look then turned to Chaeli. “Right, off you go. Break for an hour then you’re cookin’ lunch. Yeah?”

Chaeli nodded and scampered off.

“And you...” Rahlin turned to Chilly, who leaned back on his bar stool. “What problem’s got your fizzle in a tizzle.”

Chilly hesitated, unsure how to proceed. His plan to free Sooty was firmly in shambles. Chaeli was a no go. He wasn’t so heartless as to keep her to her word. Especially now that she was grounded. Asking another was an option, but...

Rahlin watched him mull through his thoughts for a second, then turned and in quick, practiced motions pulled out two polished wooden tankards and filled them with amber liquid. The large Dragonborn turned and slid the smaller of the two tankards to Chilly, who caught it in surprise before it could topple off the bar.

“Liquid courage.” Rahlin rumbled. “Helps with the ladies.”

A thin layer of foam fizzled over the beer.

Chilly grasped the tankard then came to a decision. He lifted the tankard to lips and took a deep draft. A rich earthy flavor with a hint of some kind of berry suffused his mouth. A second later the strong alcohol burned down his throat, bringing tears to his eyes, but leaving a hearty warmth in the pit of his stomach.

Chilly suppressed a cough, as his nose started tingling.

“You’ve got stones.” Rahlin commented, a hint of respect in his tone before he took an eye watering guzzle of his own drink.

Chilly grunted, then took another, more moderate, sip.

“I’ve got a friend stuck in the fire biome that needs my help,” he said. “He’s been stuck there forever. A slave to the Hellbringer, and the only real way to free him is to kill the boss. Thing is, it's a boss, you know. I could try taking him alone, but that seems sketchier than skinnydipping in the amazon.”

“I need help basically, but the way that the bosses level match means that I can’t just ask Gar-Khan to help me. I would get smashed if I had to fight a level nineteen boss. Besides, I doubt he would listen. He seems kinda busy. Managing a whole village and all.”

Chilly took another drink.

“This the same friend who gave you that bracelet?” Rahlin grunted, indicating to the black iron band wrapped tightly around Chilly’s wrist.

Chilly pulled his hand back protectively. “Yeah, but it’s not what it looks like. He just needed some insurance. He’s been stuck there for a while. Why would he trust a random stranger without a show of faith? To be fair, I thought I would be beating the Hellbringer way before I nearly doubled my level. It's a little useless right now, but believe it or not, it was an upgrade when I first got it. .”

Rahlin polished off his tankard, and turned to fill it. “A cursed item is one hell of an insurance. What did he promise you that could be worth that?”

“He let me kill him a few times,” Chilly said. “Fastest couple of levels I’ve ever gotten. Also he said he’d take the...this, off me after I save him.”

Rahlin turned and raised a brow.

“That’s not the point though. The only people who can help me are kids, and...never mind. I guess I just need to level a bit and then go around asking for people to help me. Or something.”

“Or something,” Rahlin murmured.

Chilly took another deep draft of his beer and reveled in the cacophony of flavors for a moment. The bitterness inherent to the drink was different from all the barely cooked, rancid or overdone meat he had consumed up until now. The complex flavors reminded him intensely of home.

“Look,” Rahlin leaned up against the bar. “Getting rid o’ that bracelet’s a worthy goal, but the guardians are part of the dungeon. Once you free the Ashen Guardian what makes you so sure that it will uphold its end of the bargain.”

“He will,” Chilly said. “Besides. Even if he doesn’t, he deserves to be freed.”

“Freed?”

“Yeah, the man’s a slave. Literally. He’s just banging on this sorry stick of iron for the last who knows how long. Maybe the reason you all think that the Guardians are evil is because you never tried empathizing with their situation.”

“And how’d you suppose we do that? Invite them into the village? We’ve got kids here.”

“I don’t know,” Chilly shrugged. “You can start by trying to talk to them or something. I mean. Don’t you want to be free?”

“I am free, kid.”

“I mean this dungeon. It's a cage. Trapping all of us in it. Don’t you want to see the sun? The sky? The real one, not the fake nonsense in Kellington’s Boughs, or the weird orb thing you have here. Why are you sitting here and running a bar, when you can be out there? Training, and gaining levels in order to search for a way out of the dungeon.”

“Easy. There are far more qualified nutcases willing to take on that job than little ol’ me.”

Chilly raised a brow.

“Ha!” Rahlin chuckled, “You thought you were the only one? Just head past the Bone Pits and you’ll find Cankerton. Sorriest group of nutcases you’ll ever meet. But they are determined nutcases. I’ll give ‘em that. Grinding away to the level cap day in and day out in order to challenge the Desecrator for its cursed throne.”

“Alright fine,” Chilly finished off his tankard. Rahlin quickly slipped it away, and passed him another one. “You’ve still got a responsibility to help out, don’t you? For Chaeli and all the other kids who deserve to grow up away from this place.”

“I tried, kid,” Rahlin shrugged, “Didn’t work out. Now I do what I’m good at, and leave others to do what they are good at.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whiskey,” Rahlin grinned, then gestured to the bar at large. “Beer, people. Keeping this place running.”

Chilly narrowed his eyes. “What would it take?”

“Hmm?”

“What would it take for you to get back out there and work on getting us all out?”

Rahlin looked at Chilly incredulously for a moment then burst out in laughter. “A miracle, kid.”

Chilly frowned, getting sick and tired of being brushed off. “Come on, Rahlin. You are one of the highest level people here. Everyone else is around seventeen or below. What would it take? Hypothetically, what could I do to convince you to go out there and free Sooty. Free all of us from this place.”

“Hypothetically?” Rahlin raised a brow, a wide grin still splitting his jaw.

Chilly nodded firmly.

“What would it take to help free a murderous guardian and...” Rahlin turned to contemplate the distance. “You would need to be much higher level for one.”

“How high?”

“My level at least. Level nineteen.”

“That’s it?” Chilly asked.

“Ha! No.” Rahlin said. “You would have to show me that you are worth working with. That there is a chance that together we can actually defeat a millennia old arch lich in his own home.”

“And what would that entail?” Chilly challenged.

“Stones, kid.” Rahlin chuckled. “Big, brass balls.”

Chilly glowered, not a fan.

Rahlin suddenly sobered up, “Get to my level in a week, and I’ll marshall the whole damn village to march on the Desecrator’s door myself.”

Chilly watched the big Dragonborn, swirling his drink thoughtfully. It seemed doable. Hard, but doable. He would have to back out into the Frozen Wastes and farm his butt off. He would need a source of higher level gear, as well as reliable resting places out in the Wastes so that he didn’t have to constantly trek back and forth.

There were things he needed to know if would get this done.

“What happens if one side wins?” Chilly asked. “In the Wastes I mean.”

“Mommy comes out to play.” Rahlin chuckled flippantly, leaning back against the kegs stacked against the wall. “Beyond the Wyrm Tunnels and the Spires there are two sleeping giants. Bosses. You kill too many of their kids, they come out and rampage in the Wastes. Try to avoid that. Makes it a wee bit difficult to stay alive.”

Chilly nodded, “and armor? Do you have some I could borrow, or know where I can get some?”

“...Kid.” Rahlin sighed, but stopped when Chilly shot him a glare. “Old Man Joe has a set or two hanging around. Ask him, he might even make you a pair if you impress him enough.”

“Cool, then it’s a deal.” Chilly said, and reached a hand out towards the bigger man. “I’ll get to level nineteen within seven cycles and you help me free Sooty and all the rest of us.”

Rahlin eyed the outstretched hand, then set his tankard down with a hollow boom.

“Let me give you some advice, kid. I’ve met your kind before. You rip through the lower levels like the devil himself is chasing your tail. You take a couple of hits, but each one only makes you stronger as your levels rise.” Rahlin clenched a meaty fist so tight that subsonic pops resonated through the table. “I’ve had friends like you. You burn bright. You burn fast. You burn out. If you go out there, into the Wastes, you will die.”

A penguin popped into existence on the bar stool beside him.

“Be still within your actions, for others seek to bring you towards their own purposes. Clear your mind and focus upon that which binds you, which drives you. Purity can only be found therein.”

“What drives me...” Chilly muttered, then stood from his seat and faced the larger Dragonborn. “My problem. Not yours. Do we have a deal or not?”

“Death is not a problem you can just walk away from,” Rahlin shook his head. “The monsters you’ve faced. I’m sure they were tough. They had more life than you, dealt more damage than you, had more resistances than you. How did you beat them? Hmm?”

“Likely the same way all kids your level do it.” Rahlin tapped a talon to his temple. “With yer head, yeah? Guess what though. You go out there. Try and get to my level. You’re gonna find some smart ‘uns. You’ll beat a couple. Think yourself king, then one of ‘em will rip your heart out while you’re sleepin’. Save yourself the trouble kid, and save us all the heartache.”

Chilly chewed on the stout Dragonborn’s words. Surreptitiously he gestured to the listening penguins. They immediately broke into a cacophony of voices.

“Hunt the Named One! Be a Void!”

“Burn it all. Just a bunch of cowardly heathens.”

“Burn their tables with passion and they may listen to you!”

Chilly closed his eyes. The consensus was clear. The penguins didn’t like these people. Though what the penguins thought was most amusing was likely not the safety route, but their voice mattered.

They called these people cowardly heathens. Hiding on top of their mountain and languishing as they stagnated. Content to stay trapped because changing the situation was too grand of a task.

A glance around the room revealed dozens of tables. He had almost forgotten the danger that they posed. But it made sense. An entire community slowly corrupted by tables. Become lax, and weak as the tables waited for the prime opportunity to lash out. It was a corruption he would root out in time.

And lastly there was the issue of the Named one. The apparent object of myth and legend was roaming free. Getting stronger and preparing to endanger everyone in this village. The villagers wouldn’t listen to him. They would brush off his warning, and he had frankly had enough of that. At the very least he would wait until level fifteen to create a hubbub. He would go out there alone, and deal with it himself. With the penguins’ help, it should be possible.

Chilly opened his eyes.

“Do we have a deal? I get to level nineteen in a week, and you help me get us out of here. All of us.”

Rahlin looked at him for a long moment. Long enough that Chilly’s outstretched arm began to burn, but eventually the big Dragonborn reached out and grasped his smaller hand in a crushing grip.

“Deal.” Rahlin rumbled. “Don’t die, kid. No shame in just living peacefully for a bit.”

Chilly nodded absently, “Do I need to pay for this?” He gestured to the two empty beer tankards on the bar.

“I’ll put it on your tab.”

Chilly nodded again, then turned and was about to leave when he spotted a penguin doing a rain dance on one of the top most kegs behind the bar.

“Would you like to join the church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster? Join, join, JOIN!”

Chilly squinted, and saw that in between the penguin’s toes was a small purple worm, wriggling as it peeked over the edge of the barrel.

“Having second thoughts?” Rahlin chuckled, “You can stay and drink some more if you’d like. On the house.”

Chilly tore his gaze from the wriggling purple worm.

“No, that’s alright.” He stepped to the door but paused with his hand on the handle. “Your tables. You should get rid of them. I’ll be back.”

Then he stepped out to the light.

Outside, Chilly immediately made his way across the rope bridges back the way he came. The first order of business was having a little chat with the Winter and Spring guardians. He needed to know what their deal was, and how he could help them. Besides, they might have information that could help him.

It wasn’t too long before he heard a faint screeching in the distance, and immediately reoriented. A couple of minutes later, he looked down at a ring of frost, and an irate maiden angrily screaming.

[Come back sister!]

He turned to a penguin. “You can understand her right?”

The penguin nodded, and Chilly took in a deep, steadying breath.

“Hey down there!” Chilly called down from the canopy. The Winter Guardian paused her relentless march. “Hi! My name is Chilly. I wanted to talk to you, if you had the time.”

[What is this? Silence pest, or I shall rip you limb from limb.]

Chilly turned eagerly to the penguin at his side, who gulped.

Frowning, Chilly continued. “Yeah, so that wasn’t very friendly. I want to help you. I’m already trying to help Sooty in the fire biome, if you know who he is.”

The winter guardian perked up. [Lies! Sooty would never speak to a pest such as you.]

“Doesn’t believe.” Karan the penguin translated from the side.

“Well, he did!” Chilly called down, reaching out with his hand to reveal his black iron bracelet around his wrist. “Look, I’ve got proof!”

The Winter Guardian peered up then gasped. [What shoddy work. How far has he fallen...]

“Do you believe me now?”

[I do. Speak your piece human.]

The penguins gestured for him to continue.

“Well, my name is Chilly. May I know your name, and can I have your promise that you won’t zap me the moment I come down to talk to you?”

[You may call me Tel. Come down if you wish. I will judge you myself, and freeze your very soul if you are unworthy.]

“Tel,” loimprevisto translated. “Danger.”

“Alright, nice to meet you Tel. I’ll stay up here if you don’t mind. Let me cut straight to the chase. I wanted to ask you if you needed any help. Sooty is enslaved to the Hellbringer which is just patently unfair, so I offered to free him. I haven’t gotten around to that yet, but it is a work in progress. Anyway, is there anything that I can help you with?”

[I don’t need your help human!] Tel spat.

“Doesn’t need your help.” Poidude translated.

“That’s cool. That’s cool, but if I do find a boss out there, past the Wastes, is there anything extra that I should know about that would maybe kinda help you out?”

Tel’s eyes narrowed. [What is this? A trick?]

“Trick?” poidude the penguin translated.

“No trick! I genuinely want to help out. I’m trapped in here, same as you, and I figure you are just a wee bit more qualified at taking out the Desecrator than little old me. Not to mention I think slavery is wrong, and it kinda looks like you got what Sooty’s got, just with no visible collar.”

Tel gave him a long look then began walking away. [I must go. Take your empty promises elsewhere human.]

“Hey!” Chilly jumped, not waiting for the penguins to translate. “Wait! Let’s talk about this.”

He hopped down from the branch and immediately shivered violently as he stepped on the frozen earth.

Spoiler :

He was taking cold damage over time, but didn’t let that stop him, and quickly jogged to catch up to the Winter Guardian.

“Hold up! You are walking after your sister, right? That’s your curse. She is the other guardian. She plants the flowers, and you have to follow in her wake and destroy them.”

[Leave.] Tel shot him an angry look, then waved her hand and a wave of snowflakes sliced into Chilly like knives.

Spoiler :

Chilly grunted as he stumbled, his regeneration struggling valiantly to keep him alive in the frigid environment. “I’ll take that as...” he shivered. “I hit the nail on the head.”

“Leave.” Nobody translated helpfully.

Tel turned with a huff, and strode away, spring flowers withering in her wake.

Chilly groaned, but followed after her. It was only normal for her to be a little aggressive after not having a proper conversation for who knows how long. It would have been better to talk to Ria, the Spring Guardian, but she was harder to find than the screaming banshee before him.

[She is not my sister.] Tel said, once Chilly caught up.

“Ria is not her sister.” Nahlcal translated.

[We are one and the same. When we refused to become a vessel for that creature’s soul, he ripped us in two to satisfy his twisted sensibilities.]

“One lady, two bodies.” Nobody translated. Chilly blinked in surprise.

“You are trying to fuse into one again?” Chilly asked, keeping a careful watch on his life, which was slowly but steadily falling.

[Indeed, though the task is impossible while our heart remains broken.] She turned to Chilly. [If you truly wish to help there is one thing you can do. Go past the Frozen Wastes and collect each half of our heart from the Endless One and the Brine King. Return it to us, whole and hale, and we shall be eternally grateful. For now, however, I must go.]

She marched off, and Chilly turned to the penguins.

“Broken heart.” Poidude said.

“Two pieces in two bosses.” loimprevisto added.

“Bring back heart whole to free.” Karan finished off.

Chilly nodded then flinched as a wave of cold soon followed by a rage-filled scream washed over him. Just then, the Jaws theme began to play with chilling intensity.

Tel stood frozen in place, radiating waves of cold, as her face contourted into a murderous scowl. He looked past her and saw something that made his heart drop.

In a clearing, past the trees, lay the broken and mutilated remains of Ria. Her sundress was torn, and her throat was entirely missing. Above her, hunched a tall figure. It stood on digitigrade legs with two broad antlers sprouting from its head. A deer-like head ended in a snout full of sharpened teeth that still had bits of fresh, bloody meat hanging off of it.

The Wendigo raised its head, drops of red blood falling to stain Ria’s torn summer dress.

The creature slowly straightened to its full height, its horns scraping against the canopy as it let out a soft, grating chuckle.

Tel erupted in a wave of unrestrained rage. Cold buffeted him as he stumbled back. Grass flash froze, and tree trunks popped as their sap froze. The Wendigo withstood the assault with only a nonchalant smile. Its sharp, bloodstained teeth glimmering in the sudden snowstorm. Then with an unconcerned shrug, it turned and loped away, past the trees.

Tel screamed unintelligibly, summoning up a wave of frozen earth that carried her after the undead beast.

The air abruptly warmed as Tel passed.

“You kabanos!” The penguin slapped Chilly with a floppy Realm Walker.

Chilly fell onto his back, shivering.