My eyes slowly open and make a poor attempt at focusing on a large lumbering shape standing over me.

I can barely register the multitude of noises around me, all of which are being drowned out by a painful ringing in my head. One that is gradually fading.

The other of my senses that is being abused is my smell, with the overpowering scent of blood making it seem as if something was butchered and then immediately shoved straight up my nose.

However, I’ve long since been use to this particular stench, with my occupational history being akin to that of a sneaky butcher, so it’s more familiar than unpleasant.

The looming figure, becoming increasingly more like a person, though all I know as of yet is that it’s human shaped and has all four limbs.

Which means the furry paw doesn’t belong to this one.

After a little time, this blurry form became a slightly blurry Torben, holding up three fingers with a expression in between worry and… Well, it’s all worry.

He appears to be saying something, too fast for me to guess by reading his lips, not that I’m confident in being able to do that anyway. I would use the traditional method of listening, but this damn ringing is too distracting.

It’s like trying to listen to someone on the other side of a door whilst a angry wasp is attempting to crawl through your ear, shouting a loud obnoxious alien language.

I don’t need my hearing to figure out what Torben is asking.

However, I freely admit to being a bit of an unnecessary dick on occasion.

And so.

“Six fingers on you middle hand. One thumb on the right and another three thumbs on the left hand.” With my sentences accented with a slight drawl. I’d probably sound disoriented without the extra effort, since I’m not sure myself if my brain is ok.

This definitely had the desired effect, since Torben’s worry changed into panic and his eyes began to slowly tear up, which certainly would look bizarre with a huge burly man that you’d expect to find in a cave stood over a deer carcass.

However the second his beard began to quiver, and somewhere deep within this, his chin. I knew I fucked up.

Time for his teary coping mechanism.

‘The eternally endless melodramatic bear-hug of death!’

The sobbing mess pulls me towards him as if I had the weight of a child, clamping me to his body with a force likely to crush my ribcage.

Soon compacting my now powdered bones into a new, super dense material. Perhaps someone could make this into a powerful weapon and use it to avenge my mutilated, tear-stained corpse.

Unfortunately for me I won’t simply die quickly, or at the very least have my back break so I don’t endure this any longer.

Nor could I actually say anything other than pained gurgles, which only served to make him more distressed and therefore hold on tighter in a childish attempt to never let me go.

I’m beginning to suspect that time distorts in within this death grip, because there suddenly appears to be a small crowd around us and I can hear again.

Occasionally, someone attempts coax Torben out of his trance to no avail, with someone feeling bold enough to attempt to pry his arms open. Which unsurprisingly was even more unsuccessful that the meagre mumbling of “umm.. Let go. I guess.” from some prick stood in the back.

I’ll make sure to that guys face, so if he finds himself in the maw of an emotionally unstable monster I’ll remember not to save him. Or at the very least, make a half-hearted gesture that shows my unwillingness to do anything productive to help him.

Since my head is one of the only parts of me I can still move, I might as well see what’s happened whilst I was unconscious.

Arching my head to the left highlighted my assailants.

Four dire wolves, stabbed and hacked to pieces. Although they had the element of surprise, while we were… distracted. They can’t fight very well in a confined area, especially since they are vastly outnumbered and surrounded, making it impossible for them to retreat.

Around them were three dead bodies, and a couple more people appeared to be injured. Though only one had an injury serious enough that they couldn’t continue.

*Splash* *Squelch* *Squelch*

Turning my head further left, to the point it threatened to break, allowed me to see exactly what is making that noise.

Kneeling on the back of yet another wolf was Finnian, covered from head to toe in gore whilst carrying a even bloodier mallet, which I vaguely recognise as being attached to one of the games in this room.

The sound is a result of Finnian repeatedly smashing down his hammer into the skull of the dead dire wolf. Or rather, the red paste of brain matter that use to be its skull.

I suppose no one has worked up the courage to inform him of the monsters death, not that I blame them, because I’m sure as hell not doing it either.

“Stop taunting me and die! Just die already! Die! Die! Die!”

Not my problem anyway, so I’ll let Argus deal with… whatever the hell is going on with him. Meanwhile, I need to escape before I’m slowly compressed into oblivion. Very, very slowly.

Ah crap! Now my ear’s itching.

After a couple more minutes I was finally let go, reminding me what it is like to be able to breathe.

Standing up caused my legs to wobble like a new-born fawn, learning how to walk for the first time. But they’ll be back to normal in a couple of minutes.

Torben looks very pale, but seems to have calmed down by now and ignores the ragged cheers from our spectators, who likely have no idea what they were even watching.

“ Oy, everyone listen up!”

I turn towards the speaker, a rough looking man who’s leading the other Black Hound squadron in our group, Lt. Hywel I believe. Provided that my head wound isn’t messing with my memory.

“I’m not gunn’ put up with this off-guard relaxin’ shite again. Nex’ person I see lower ‘is guard, gets used as witch bait.

Maybe couple of them curses will help ye’ keep your ‘ead on straight, 'cause your doing a piss poor job of it as of now!

I wan’ every one of you turds to be ready to go within the minute, or I’ll shove my foot so far up your arse tha’ I’ll be able to use your squawkin’ as a fuckin’ bird call!”

Though this guy has a shit trench for a mouth, he does have a point. We all saw some dusty magic relics and completely forgot about the pressing dangers around us.

Not only were we caught off-guard, it was likely our fault that they came down to this room anyway. It wasn’t as if we were being particularly sneaky.

The thing I’m most worried about is the possibility that the witches know we are here, rather than this being a random group that stumbled upon us.

Additionally, there is the possibility that these wolves have a magic link to the witches, or even that the witches can see through the eyes of their summoned monsters.

Since I have no possible way to rule these out, I have to move through the rest of the ruins whilst expecting an pre-prepared ambush from some witches. I’m also concerned about the fact that Ii have absolutely no idea how witches fight, how easily they die, or any other possible magical bullshit they’d have in store. So if possible, I want to kill as many of them as possible before they’re even have time to perceive me.

I hate being in the situation with another group, since I can’t use any of my very convenient magic, which kind of makes me glad that I don’t need to rely on it.

Within our allotted minute, everyone was ready to leave, including the crimson stained Finnian standing besides me.

Time to kill some witches.