So Olaf, I'll ask again. What are you doing out and about?"

Olaf took a deep breath, and exhaled any remaining smoke that resided within his lungs. He readjusted himself and unstrapped his sword from his back and placed it beside him.

Olaf regarded Durie for a moment, then said simply, "They are back, Durie."

Such a cryptic statement drove Durie to scowl, and curse under his breath.

"Who, Olaf? Who are back?"

Marius, who was used to Olaf's mannerisms, simply sat and waited for the explanation. Olaf looked across at Marius who sat patiently, and smiled at his student.

He looked back at Durie and explained. "The Eldar, Durie. They are back– or indeed, they may have never left. Either way, they are upon the kingdoms of men and are secretly butchering towns in Alturine. Marius experienced a corrupted Eldar first hand, and said there are at least three more with it. You yourself should have come to that conclusion just by looking at this town. It was partly the reason I went ranging around the Black Forest in the first place."

Durie took in the news. He sat on his chair beside the fire blinking for a moment, looking from Olaf to Marius trying to fit together the puzzle.

"But you killed them. You destroyed them; you took away their immortality and left them to die. They are no more and this is our time of peace."

Olaf nodded. "Aye, that is what we all thought. But it would seem the most powerful still remain. Reanimating the dead into Nosaferatu is no small party trick."

Durie's eyebrows rose and then fell. "Well, Olaf, it seems I'm right; you truly do only come out to play when the world is ending!"

Olaf sighed and turned to Marius. "Marius, lad, could you wait in the pub down the street for me? I might be a while, but get whatever you want. Explore Trystem if you wish – just keep out of trouble, and meet me in that pub."

With that, Olaf threw a coin purse over to Marius, and waved his hand at the door which, with a creaking squeal borne from decades of rusted hinges, opened. Marius got up and walked out from Durie's house, but curiosity got the better of him, and as the door closed, Marius went around the back of the house and peered in through a gap in a window.

Olaf recounting to Durie in on the tale that had unfolded in Stonehill. Durie sat in horror and amazement. When Olaf had finished, Durie rubbed his face with his hands, got up, and walked over to a cabinet by the door. He pulled out a bottle, and filled two glasses with the contents, passing one to Olaf as he raised his own, and drank. Marius watched Olaf do the same, then listened as the conversation changed.

Durie began talking about Doflhiem, and a person called Huldain. "I'm tellin' you, Olaf we – no, you – need to talk with my brother and Huldain. Together, you might be able to nip it in the bud before it gets further out of hand. I remember Tavium telling me stories of what happened last time, when the corruption started? All those lives..."

Durie shook his head at the thought, Marius followed the conversation with growing interest. From what Durie was saying, Olaf had fought in the Eldar wars, which meant that the old hero had to be centuries old. Marius knew that Dwarves had long lives, but he didn't know how Olaf could live that long. Marius looked at Olaf through the gap in the window and took in the countless scars, the ancient features, and the hulking frame. His tattoos glowed in the gloomy light of Durie's house, and his eyes twinkled beneath his prominent brow.

The conversation continued on about possible ways to destroy the Eldar. Again, Durie suggested an answer.

"You and Huldain could use magic to destroy this threat, just like what happened south of here when you challenged the Dragon knights."

Olaf scowled and shook his head. "No, Durie. That was too dangerous and the cost was great; the ground is still scarred to this day. No one should wield that much power. Huldain and I swore we would never unleash so much destruction upon the land again. Besides, whether we like it or not, the corruption has already started. Look at this town: the strong are greedy. and the weak are ill. We are too late to nip it in the bud."

Durie swore and threw back his drink. "Then what, Olaf? What do we do? Do we just sit in the shadows and contemplate our situation, or do we face the demons at our door, like we have always done? I'm telling you, man; go to Doflhiem, speak to my brother, the King, ask for aid, recruit Huldain to your cause, and unleash your own hell on these corrupted ancients!"

Olaf nodded. "I was planning on making the trip soon anyway, I am just waiting for the lad to be ready first. Once Marius is ready I will set out for your homeland."

Marius felt excitement bristle within him at the thought of going to Doflhiem.

Durie continued to press his urgency. "Either way, Olaf, you need to go soon. The longer this is left, the more lives are lost and the more powerful these bastards will become!"

Olaf sighed, allowing his great shoulders to sag. "I know, Durie, I just want to be ready for whatever comes next."

Durie shrugged, got up, and took to pouring himself another drink. "You can never be too prepared, Olaf. I just hope you can be prepared enough for what comes along the horizon."

Marius left the window once he was confident the conversation had turned away from the Eldar and Doflhiem. Questions raced around his head as he walked past Durie's forge and out into the street. Marius made his way towards the pub, and once he found it he decided to go and explore Trystem. The town was eerily silent, and Marius felt as though eyes watched him wherever he stepped. As he made his way through merchant's circle, he realized that Durie was not the only Dwarf in Trystem. Other forges bore the same angled features as Durie's did.

Marius marvelled at the craftsmanship that littered the town, and felt mournful for the townsfolk. The smoke laden air drifted through the streets, and Marius felt the crunching of his boots against the frosted earth. His breath steamed up before him, and before long, he began to feel the effects of the cold creep into him. Marius felt himself become heavy, and his feet began to sting with the cold, so he headed back to the tavern Olaf had told him to wait at.

A sign swung in the breeze above the door, displaying a painted picture of a black haired woman brushing her long hair; halfway down this painting, the woman's hair turned into a wavy river. In gold peeling letters beneath the sign, scribed the name: Mother-locke Inn. Marius entered, and to his surprised heard the picking strings and hoarse tones of a bard singing old tunes and ballads in the corner. Shady customers stuck to their booths, and the sickly drunks hugged the bar. The stench of stale beer and smoke polluted the air, and Marius felt his boots stick to the greasy, dark, wooden floor.

Marius made his way over to the bar, and ordered the house ale from a wiry, balding, half blind barkeep that seemed to fit in with his surroundings, right down to the grease. The barkeep mumbled and chattered to himself, leaving Marius to take his ale in silence, and do his best not to make eye contact with anyone as he made his way over to an unoccupied table.

Occasional laughter broke out from groups and bounced over the bard's songs. Marius leant closer to listen to the old songs, but strained as the laughter grew. Three guards sat, in full battle attire, drinking and waving around their swords in a jolly manner, which seemed to contradict the feeling of the whole establishment. They carried on and cheered as four more guards banged in through the front door. They drank excessively, and spoke in a bawdy and shameless manner.

Marius began to feel very out of place, and wished that Olaf would show up at any moment. A louder bang caused Marius to look up, and then down at a bottle that skittered to a halt by his foot; the alcohol within poured out from the neck, and pooled around Marius's chair.

He looked back up as the scraping of a chair and thudded footsteps precluded the staggering, drunken arrival of one the guards at his table. The guard stood in front of Marius with his sword drawn, which he leant on for support as he looked down at his fallen bottle. Snickers came from the other guards as this one looked Marius up and down, taking in the swords and rich clothing.

"I trust you have a permit for these, boy?" He gestured with his sword towards Marius's own blades.

Marius frowned. Unaccustomed to the laws of these lands, he did not have a leg to stand on, although he did know that Olaf would have warned him about anything like this.

Deciding to go with the truth, Marius slapped on a peaceful smile and looked up at the guard. "Well, I am sorry, sir, I didn't think I needed one."

This statement seemed to delight the guard, as he looked at the sword on Marius's back in hunger.

He puffed out his chest and looked down his nose at Marius. "Well, I’m sorry, lad," he said, "but you do. I’m going to have to confiscate your swords and give you a hefty fine."

Marius had remembered what Olaf had said about staying out of trouble, and wondered if refusing to give up his blades and money would lead to a peaceful solution – he doubted it. Marius desperately wished Olaf would show up now, but in his absence, Marius decided upon which path he should take.

Slowly pushing back his chair, he said, "I am sorry, sir, but unfortunately I am unable to give up my swords as they are very valuable and dear to me, and all of the money I hold does not belong to myself as it is actually my master's."

This caused the drunken guard to stare, dumbfounded at what he had just been told. After a while, his brain processed the meaning to be in the negative, and he pointed his sword at Marius. His fellow guards had stopped snickering by now, and stood up to surround Marius and force him to hand over his goods. Marius, having mixed feelings about what might happen next, stood up himself, and looked from one guard to the other. Bracing himself, Marius's hand crept to the hilt of his long sword.

The guard, who now clearly thought the odds were in his favour, gave a leering smile and said, "Right now, boy. Give us the purse and your blades, and you won't get hurt, you hear me?"

Marius once again weighed the odds of a peaceful solution, and not seeing one in the present moment, said, "No."

The effect was quite strange. Olaf's shadowy knights and rangers were a lot faster and harder to fight than actual people.

Upon Marius's response, the first guard yelled out, "Right then!" and swung at Marius, thinking that this would end the conversation. Marius at this point, seeing all of the tells this man gave before he went to strike, decided to reply.

Drawing his long sword, Marius cut off the man's hand, sending the sword and the attached hand flying through the air into a fellow guard, who was about to hold Marius back. The recently one handed guard collapsed to the ground, and huddled over his wound screaming, whilst the other fell back, gurgling blood from his mouth and whispering something about peaches. Marius spun around and looked at the other remaining guards who were staring at their fallen colleagues in horror. Marius flicked the blood from his blade, spraying the floor. This caught the other guards' attention. They charged as one, screaming in hatred and anger at Marius, who was dismayed at this turn of events. He unsheathed Nurlin's blade, and with one slice cut through swords, armour, and guards, leaving a pooling mess of blood in the centre of the tavern.

At that point, Olaf walked into the tavern with Durie, and looked at the mess in surprise. Durie let out a long whistle, then walked over to the blood splattered bar keep. The other customers had decided to either leave or hide behind their tables the moment Marius had said no.

Olaf walked over to where Marius was standing, ankle deep in blood. "What happened here?"

Marius could tell that Olaf had not decided how to feel about this until he had the facts. Marius sheathed his blades and looked up at his mentor. "They wanted my swords and your money. When I said no, they attacked me."

Olaf nodded slowly, then shrugged. "It would seem that they are corrupted. I have a feeling this is a side effect of the Eldar. It’s alright, Marius. I wish this would not have happened, but some things cannot be helped."

Durie came over with three mugs of ale. "It’s such a shame, but I think you are right Olaf. I have observed the guards becoming rougher of late."

With that, Olaf and Durie seemed to forget about the slain guards at their feet, and talk turned to supplies.

"I'm thinking we may take a trip south, Marius, to Doflhiem. What do you think?"

Marius had almost forgotten about Olaf and Durie's conversation, and his thoughts turned towards the Dwarves' capital now. He nodded, and felt, as he had before, excitement at the thought of going to see one of the underground kingdoms of the Dwarf king.