I return to my captive friend, companion? She opens her jaws and clenches them shut including her eyes. Resigned to and accepting of her fate, convinced I will kill her regardless of the food shared between us. I study the evidence of her efforts to escape. Her hands are bloodied from desperately trying to free herself, one rock beyond her strength. She tried to futilely free the rocks around the one locking her in.

Recalling I intended to kill her, I am surprised when I don’t and perhaps, she previously read her death in my golden eyes. Fortunately for her, I changed, finding enough humanity to at least not kill someone I shared a meal with. It is an odd feeling I admit to myself, although not abhorrent and in fact civilised. I then notice I am still to acquire clothes.

I reach down and effortlessly grasp the rock trapping my captive friend and throw it back into the hallway.

She cautiously opens her eyes. Once I fix my gaze upon her, I offer a hand to boost her out. Slowly she raises her hand to accept the offer, a small show of teeth, which I identify as a nervous smile regardless of the species. Once out she crouches on her haunches and twists her head one way then the other. I am not sure if she is checking for enemies or searching for an escape. I then recall I didn’t hear the rock crash. So, I place my finger across my lips and throw another rock through the doorway into the hallway, ensuring I can observe this one land.

My rock cast a perfect arch. The strangest creature, round pebbly, rocky body supported on three stumpy legs, eyes blinking between each leg, catches it easily using three long arms and immediately releases it into a large tooth lined maw atop its body. It then scrambles down the hallway out of sight.

“Xorn!” gasps my new friend.

Swivelling my face towards hers, she gulps and swallows under my scrutiny.

“You recognise the beast?”

Her eyes grow wide, and her jaw lips draw back in surprise. Yes, dear, I can interpret and speak your language and I won’t release you from my gaze until you answer my question.

“Yesss, earth and stone eater, powerful, not usually in cavern.” She kneels before me as she finishes speaking ignoring any pain or awkwardness due to the rock pile.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Yes, oh Great One, I tremble in your presence.”

“Will you desert me when you see your clan or the ogre who commands you?”

She hesitates, she knows what she should say, she raises her head instead, pleading in her eyes.

“I accept you will run to them, don’t hinder me or help them when you do otherwise, … I will kill you.”

“Yes, oh Great One.”

My attention returns to my task, and I peer over the barrier of rocks. The leader drives three injured orcs and his two bodyguards to remove the rocks from the doorway to the cavern. I throw rocks to the Xorn or at least into the hallway as I attempt to clear a path. My kobold acquaintance backs away from me, although staying within my peripheral vision. They must act that way when around others stronger than themselves.

“Explain to me your tribe and why you obey the ogre.”

Her head snaps around in shock, eyes wide her entire body trembling. I heft a rock for size and stare at her. I wouldn’t squash her with the rock since I decided not to, fortunately, she can’t read my mind.

“I will tell as long as you don’t tell ogre I tell,” she whimpers. Her petite hands fidgeting under her chin.

“We will not be talking much when we meet,” I reply bluntly.

She bobs her head and reveals the tale of her tribe while I return to rock removal.

“Our tribe is half a tribe, we ran from the beast races outside the cavern, while the others stayed.”

“Who or what are the beast races?”

She tilts her head to one side, “They are the beast races, they have always been.”

“Alright, continue.” It seems beast races are common knowledge, except to someone new to this world, I pick up and throw another rock.

“The orcs attacked first and killed some of us, although we killed as many of them, they are stupid and fell to our traps and tricks. Then they go and return with the ogres, they too strong and too tall. The ogre chief killed our chief and became our chief.”

So, the last words didn’t make too much sense until I replayed them slowly to arrive at the obvious conclusion.

“The ogre chief makes us soldier about, no more sneaking, trapping and tricking. We kill others in Cavern and him now Chief of Cavern and he sends for orc females and ogre females to make more.”

I throw three more rocks, stopped and stared at her waiting for the rest of the story. She returns to trembling.

“He no like you, want to … eat you. You grow no hair, never seen your race before, expects good tasting oh Great One.”

My coughing from breathing in dust cuts short my unrestrained belly laugh. My companion handed me another waterskin, which I thanked her for and drink deeply.

“You no fear oh Great One?”

I hand the water skin back to her, “I am difficult to kill and when killed I will return, well I have been told I will.” I don’t wish to return to my creator as a shade and a failure, hence this is false bravado although I enjoy her reaction. I am reminded of how my Master ‘plays’ with me and in an instant regret my treatment of this small creature. I am sure she will betray me given the chance, even so, she is trying to stay alive around certain death. A situation she must find herself in very often now the orcs and the ogres subjugate her tribe.

“Kill the wretched kobold and attack the Invaders still in the rock room.” My Master’s instructions boom in my mind, and I am unprepared for the shock.

“Kill and attack I command it!”

“I need to remove more rocks yet since you can’t.” I snap back my reply.

“You are wrong, my Xorn is attending to this now.” His smugness washes over me and I shudder, trying to cleanse the unsavoury feeling, unsuccessfully, unfortunately. Still, he doesn’t urge me to any action again.

I return to my labour and notice the rocks grazing my hands. Scrapes and scratches were new to my previously impervious skin. Annoyingly this harm confirms human emotion weakens me physically. I am ready to burst through and confront them, the Xorn is now in the rock room happily, well I assume so, feeding. My kobold companion squats silently observing me, glimpsing at the Xorn occasionally, concerned about a creature or monster three times her size eating its way towards her I suspect.

Clearing the last rocks quickly I roll into the other side of the rock room, pushing off the rocks to stand, dropping two spears at my feet and readying a third while charging towards my foe. Three orcs rise to meet me. Were they resting or waiting for me? His deep throaty laugh, echoes from the cavern, his two bodyguards stand by the entrance or is it exit, impassive, their black eyes following me. Their chief has escaped the rock room.

My spear throw aims for the orc without a shield, it explodes through his chest, any armour previously worn set aside due to his rock relocating labours. The spear thrusts of his two companions I avoid by stepping back and grabbing for one of the two spears now at my feet.

One of his companions pauses and reaches for a shield. The other grunts in gurgled agony as I throw a second spear puncturing his chest. I cannot avoid his spear thrust and I am sure he swears at me as he dies. The wound isn’t deep, although the most grievous dealt with me in one strike since arriving on this strange world, needing me to gingerly extract it from my thigh to minimise the pain.

The third companion charges me with a long-bladed weapon and shield. The entire length of the weapon is like an endless spear point, and he wields it in a swinging, slashing arc while positioning his shield to deflect my thrusts. As a witness of my strength, he modifies his shield facing to deflect rather than block. I recoil from the weapon, it is Nehal’s weapon, the sword and as I name it, I remember the cuts and thrusts it dealt me.

The orc growls revealing his pointed teeth. He recognises my fear, and he assumes it is due to him, he drools, and his penis visibly engorges. What is it with these disgusting beasts? I cringe and step back until I brush against the wall. He overshadows me and nods toward my spear. I grasp it loosely, disappointed he is cautious. I flick the spear away, his eyes following it across the room, I deliberately ensure it clatters against the wall to complete the distraction.

He wavers for a moment, then his knees fail him, and he falls forward. I contemplated throwing the rock at his penis as punishment, instead, I chose his head. Reaching for his sword, I find satisfaction in slaying him with Nehal’s favourite weapon.

As I grip the weapon, I instinctively adjust for weight and balance and twirl it easily using my wrist following through to stab him accurately between the narrow gap offered between helm and hauberk, innately and confidently understanding I severed his spine. His body twitches once and then death. I scramble to recover his belt and scabbard. My Master is quicker, and his laughter fills my mind.

“Too slow minion, others, more powerful escaped you, capture them and return them to me, hurry!”

His words in my mind distract me from the after-battle. He wants them captured? How?

The Xorn is feeding, and my kobold friend now peeks over the rock barrier, and I wave at her to join me. While my Master is distracted once again by the feast I delivered, I stride out of the rock room in pursuit of his enemies, three spears in my left hand, a sword comfortable and familiar in my right hand.

{You have exited the Quest Dungeon of Azizos.}

On either side of the path I follow, are piled up rock walls. A new path cleared hastily by throwing rocks away from it, without thought, or any consideration for stability.

The first weight strikes me between my shoulder blades, and I resist falling to my knees. I am basalt! Rocks continue to rain down upon me from behind and I glance at my attackers, his two bodyguards, belly laughing loudly as they embrace their task. I discover my body can now bruise, consequently, I feign serious injury and fall forward, shielding my head with my arms. Blunt force trauma to the head, bruising of the brain as it dashes against first one side and then the other of my skull. The skull of basalt hardened skin and bone. My arms tighten around my head.

Four ogres jog up the path towards me, clearly disappointed, patting the rock they carry before they throw it away. I am relieved and reassess my enemy, the ambush lured an overconfident attacker into a position of weakness. Distracted, my arms falling away from their task, I curse my foolishness as a thrown rock glances off my head and I stay conscious long enough to witness happiness on the face of an ogre and it isn’t pleasant. It is the face of someone about to enjoy a meal or who recently finished a delicious meal. So, orcs are rapists and ogres prefer to feast. My last random thought concerns my kobold companion, odd and then I blackout.

Character Sheet: Aphrodite Name: Aphrodite Culture: Greek Mythos Race: Human Superior Spirit: Human Body: Living Basalt Soul: Dungeon Dominate Sentient Dominate: 14% Monster Dominate: 11% Dungeon Dominate: 58% Hominine Essence: Level 10 Avine Essence: Level 10 Dragon Essence: Level 0 Strength: 65 Grasp: 65 Toughness: 65 Constitution: 65 Vigour: 65 Endurance: 65 Dexterity: 65 Agility: 65 Quickness: 55 Wisdom: 75 Perception: 55 Mettle: 55 Intelligence: 50 Willpower: 20 Power: 20 Charisma: 20 Glamour: 50 Beauty: 100 Languages: Greek Kobold Orc Gifts: Regeneration Prolific Fertility Shadow Hide Silent Step Spear: Level 2 Halberd: Level 1 Bow: Level 2 Sword: Level 15