I'm glad I took my father's advice, that's what I thought as I awoke still falling through the darkness. Unlike other dwarves who awaited the impact of the bottom with anticipation and paranoia. My father insisted that I rest after diving into the pit, it would be the last peaceful sleep I would get. It was also the safest time to rest, right after diving in the pit. For what dwarf could sleep for 24 hours willingly. There were flickers throughout the dark, other dwarves practicing their dwarven fire before reaching the bottom. A skill every dwarf should master, even if they decide not to go through the trials, for bending heat and stone are what we do best. How long I slept for I didn't know but peering down I could see the faint glow of red and knew we were getting close to the bottom. The smell of sulfur hit me like a wave causing me to slightly gag as my eyes burned and watered. The first thing you're taught about the pit is the arrival and how to survive the impact, you could train all your life but nothing was like the real thing. The gravity of the earth much denser then that on the crust is something that killed many unsuspecting dwarves, at least that's what my father often told me. If you're lucky the flow of molten rock would cushion your fall, in fact, most dwarves prayed that a lake of magma awaited them at the bottom, for any dwarf raised correctly could easily survive the heat of pure magma. "This is it!" one of the dwarves yelled, and I nodded in agreement as I began to harness what we dwarves referred to as "The Gift". The palm of my hands heating as I used the familiar skill "Melt", free falling I move towards the edge of the pit my hands sliding along the outer surface of the hole. My father's lesson surfacing in my mind. "It needs to be hotter", I murmur channeling more heat. Unlike the stone above ground, the earth here was much more solid, it wasn't the same as melting normal rock. It needed more heat, sparks began to fly all over the walls as the other dwarves began preparing for the arrival. streaks of melted stone left in our wake. Finally, my hand began to pierce into the walls, forming a trail of molten rock from my hands. "now comes the hard part." My hands penetrated deeper and deeper into the stone as we continued to fall. Now elbow deep into the wall, I begin rotating my body wrapping myself in the molten rock. The durability of a dwarves body depended on the type of training they committed themselves to if your hatchfather taught you anything it was physical durability for this very moment. The more you spin the more layers you have, the more layers the higher chance of survival. The only uncertainty was when to cool the stone, too late and you're hitting the surface still encased in magma killing you. Too early and you don't have enough layers to absorb the impact, not killing you but breaking nearly every bone in your body. Which down here was probably worse than being dead. Now on my 9th layer, I begin to hear loud "thuds" below and know the first few dwarves have reached the end. If they were alive or not I would soon find out. Confident in the amount of magma that hugged my body, I cool the magma as fast as I can the crashes of the stone growing louder, the molten red dimmed until I was left in darkness. Awaiting the crash that was soon to come, sitting in the dark fear began to creep into my heart before the earth-shattering crash shook everything around me. I felt it in my bones, and stomach it vibrated throughout my entire being. Even after the arrival the world still shook, the hard rock splitting open like an egg and I the chick. I wanted to wait and catch my breath but knew I had not the time. Emerging from the stone I scamper away from the entrance as fast as my short legs could carry me as the other dwarves continued to arrive, those slow and foolish enough to stay under the entrance were crushed by the new arrivals. Moving from underneath the hole I finally take in my surrounding. The faint glow of magma from a stream nearby lite the room in a dim red, the walls were splashed gray and the area hazy with smog dominating the area. It was hard to stand the gravity easily doubling or tripling where we stood, making me envy the fairies and their use of void magic. Trying to breathe was a constant battle the hazy smog entering my lungs caused me to wheeze making me slightly light headed. As the impacts stopped the other dwarves looked around seeing how many of us had actually survived the arrival. From each city there were at least one hundred dwarves to enter the trials, now less then half of us remained. Grim looks lay plastered on many of our faces as we looked into the rubble of the entrance, the dust settling slowly revealing the unfortunate dwarves. Each of us saying a small prayer for them before they would rise again as a creature of anger and decay. Finally adjusting to the fumes of the underground I watched the remaining dwarves, it was time to form a herd. Forming a group before entering the pit was considered "a waste of time." because you never truly knew who would survive the arrival. The dwarves now quickly assessing each other determining who was weak and strong. No matter what city you hailed from dwarves were a proud bunch asking another to join your herd wasn't something taken lightly, seeming too eager to join others often left the impression of being weak. Yet the noise from the onslaught of stone would inevitably bring the creatures of the dark, so we had little time for stubbornness. A herd usually consisted of 10 dwarves at least. Soon the large group quickly split into herds, not saying anything to each other and simply nodding to one another in silent agreement to survive together. Feeling a slight nudge I'm greeted by Bolmer, his pack now in tatters and significantly smaller than before the arrival. With him I recognize several other dwarves from Curuz, some struggling to stand not adjusting to the thick air and harsh gravity. My father insisted that you could judge a dwarf's worth by the hardness of his hands, not having the time or patience to inspect each of them we all nodded in agreement before setting off on the first objective to surviving. Each herd walking in a separate direction in the vast area, no herd was shameful enough to follow another and after walking for a few hours we were the only herd in the area. "We should travel east, that will be the fastest way to find a wet spot." Bolmer remarks, trying to lead our herd. Of course, if he had sound direction there would be no problem. "Well, my hatchfather says the quickest way to find a wet spot is due north!" A deep voice proclaims before the other dwarves begin to voice their opinions. All dwarves are raised to lead the herd, being a leader is in our blood. Yet a leader amongst leaders is bound to be a follower, whether they like it or not. "Enough!" I bellow, "we haven't the time to argue like children." My bark caught the dwarves off guard each wearing a sour look. "When lost follow the flow of magma. Let us be on our way before the creatures come." I had no intention of standing idle in the area, the paranoia from the uncertainty of the darkness was already setting in. Wrapping my boots around my neck I take my first step into the river of molten rock. The warm liquid oozed between my toes as I began transversing over the hot river. Beside me Bolmer and the other Dwarves followed reluctantly, lava walking with the current. Our first priority was finding a wet spot, easier said than done. The wet spot is a pouch of water untapped in the earth, often made into wells when close enough to the surface. No matter how tough a dwarf you were no one could survive without water, thus when beginning the trials every dwarfs first priority is securing water. The other dwarves seemed to struggle to stay above the lava, their packs heavy with the intense gravity I'm sure. "Must we really travel over the lava? We can just follow the stream on land." A dwarf muttered as he struggled with his pack. Looking at him he was thin for a dwarf, his hands still soft I assumed. For no dwarf complained about hard work. "Don't complain about carrying your own weight, it makes you look weak." Another dwarf piped, he carried the largest pack amongst the bunch and the biggest hammer. I wondered if he was capable of swinging such a mighty hammer, it easily doubling the size of his head. "Where's your pack." A deep-voiced dwarf grumbles in my direction, his tone dismissive. "Don't tell me, you lost everything in the arrival." The other dwarves snort and sneer at the remark before I could reply I see the faint glow of moving embers in the distance upon the river of lava. "Hold!" I bark, wielding my hammer. The others sense the bloodlust and rush to take up their weapons as well. The lava rippling as small serpents skated across the surface before floating in the air completely ignoring the immense pressure of the gravity that crippled our movements. "Fire Serpents," Bolmer hissed beside me with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. Be it from the immunity they possessed to our flames or the fact they were forged from mana and fire I felt unease at their presence. Not waiting for them to strike Bolmer charges forward shouting his war cry, following close behind him the rest of the herd. Maybe it was my hatchfathers lessons that stilled my body, or perhaps the instinct of not charging an enemy I have yet to face in battle. But I waited and watched as the serpent let out its supernatural growl before lashing out its tail. Our herd closing in on the snake ten more began to rise from the lava as if we were intruders disturbing their nest. Suspended in the air they darted forward, with a bellow the dwarves began to swing their mighty hammers hitting only air with their wide swings. For the serpents were much to fast for them, whipping them with their bodies molded by fire. The assault was unorganized and chaotic making me glad I didn't join in the attack. The serpents continued to whip their tails at the dwarves to no avail simply bouncing off of them, after a few moments they realized their fire was ineffective because they began latching themselves onto an unsuspecting dwarf before digging their fire-born fangs into his body. Us dwarves may be able to repel heat and fire, but no dwarf had it running through their veins. The unlucky dwarf shrieked in surprise before he began sinking into the lava, struggling against the serpents before disappearing underneath the surface as he howled in pain. The demise of the dwarf gave me shivers while causing the others to panic, their attacks ineffective as well as their unorganized positions they attempted to flee. Darting in each direction splitting up the crumbling herd. The first to run being Bolmer, the serpents didn't give chase for they were preoccupied with the three dwarves that carried valor and continued to fight against the beasts. I wished to join them in fighting off the snakes, but saw no favorable outcome and joined in the escape leaving them behind. Darting across the river of magma towards the closest mass of land. The shame of fleeing from my first fight heavy in my steps as i ran alone into the darkness of a nearby tunnel.