It seemed like forever before Skrakch’s shuddering heart stopped beating so frantically in his chest. He’d had a few brushes with death before but they’d always been at the end of a blade, not at the jaws of some giant bone monstrosity.

“Though to be fair,” Skrakch muttered, mostly to himself. “I’ve nearly been eaten by Ghouls before…”

“What are you wittering on about Squeakers?” Zacharias asked. The Halfling was trying to wipe away the worst of the bodily fluids from his leather trenchcoat with an old handkerchief.

“And you!” Skrakch demanded, completely ignoring Zacharias. He pointed a shaky paw at Meekknuckle who was currently slumped in Winifred’s arms. “Since when could you cast such strong magic?”

Panting weakly, Meekknuckle let out a deep groan as Winifred set him down onto some cold soil.

“Me got from vision…” He explained, wiping at his bloody nose. “It very strong…me am smartest Goblin after all…” He continued as he shakily got to his feet. His clothes were torn and stained with blood and various bodily fluids from the corpses. Even his large philtrum was completely caked in the stuff. The small creature couldn’t look any less like a hero if he tried but, somewhat reluctantly, Skrakch had to give him his due.

“I won’t argue with that,” He said, still shaking his head in disbelief. “You pulled our butts out of the fire. Thanks, Meek.”

In truth, none of his companions were looking great, the Ratling noted. His dark vision didn’t give him much in the way of color, but he could still see the dripping fluids on most of their bodies. Worse yet, with their magical healer looking like a wrung-out rag, it was up to more mundane efforts to save the day.

Of course, that’s why the Ratling was adamant about bringing a healthy assortment of potions and elixirs with him on his adventures. Skrakch absentmindedly pulled a few vials from his bandolier, running over the injuries in his mind.

A poultice for his burns, a stamina potion for Winifred and Zach each, and maybe something to numb the pain for Meekknuckle? Too many potions at once dulled the effects, or he’d be happy to pour half his stock down the Goblin's throat. Still, the cost of four potions alone left him wincing at the price. After all, there was a reason Skrakch always seemed penniless, even after a big score.

Frankly, it would be best if he’d been capable of making the more advanced potions himself, but sadly that was beyond him at the moment. The trickiest potions were those that could naturally fill up someone’s Core, but the only recipe he’d ever heard about for those was a well guarded secret of Dray’Mel’s Alchemy Guild. And as much as he’d learned from the Guild Mistress Jeeta, the damned Saxhleel had no intention of passing the recipe on.

If he could make his own, he’d be able to craft some Mana restoring potions, and could help the woozy-looking goblin out and let him do the healing. Still, Skrakch was just happy to be alive at this point.

“Alright you lot, come here. These won’t do much, but they’ll take the edge off.” Skrakch grumbled, holding out three small vials. While each looked similar, the Ratling could tell which was which from the lingering scent of the ingredients inside.

It didn’t take long for his greedy companions to grab one, and after draining their foul-tasting brews, they were looking quite a bit more hale and hearty. Skrakch himself was feeling much better after applying his poultice, his burnt flesh itching strongly as his flesh regrew from under his burns.

“That was quick thinking, Skrakch.” Winifred piped up, a look of contentment on her face as the potion did its work. “I won’t say I owe you my life, but perhaps I’ll buy you an ale if we make it out.”

“Meek agree, Magic Rat make very big boom!” Meekknuckle nodded with enthusiasm. “Me forgive Skrakch, even though it his fault.”

“That’s enough of the mushy stuff lads,” Zach said, pulling a face. “Just be happy we made it out, and be done with it.”

“No thanks to you, oh Glorious leader. You were pretty bloody quick to ditch us, even for you.” Skrakch spat, glaring daggers at the Halfling.

Zach scoffed loudly, giving the Ratling a shove. “Please, I’m the idea man, you lot are the muscle. Just be glad the door was open when we got there, eh? Anyways, I dropped my torch, so if anyone else has one, now's the time to use it.” Zach said, still standing at the ready, peering into the darkness.

“Keep your pants on, I’ve got one right… here!” Winifred exclaims, lighting a torch to reveal the cavern. “By the Gods Above… I bloody knew it!

Skrakch’s eyes took a little while to adjust following the sudden darkness but he soon realized why Winifred had sounded so excited.

It was yet another cavern, but a lot smaller this time. Its purpose was obviously to be a treasury as was revealed by her flickering flame, and Skrakch can’t help but watch with wonder as riches beyond his understanding were displayed. Most of the floor of the cavern was littered with gold coins, interspersed with gleaming jewels. He could barely make out the floor of the cavern, as the cavern was so completely stuffed with golden objects.

There were weapon racks, each holding exotic weapons larger than the ratling himself. Delicate vases lined the walls, ornate paintings decorated each inch of the cavern, but above them, all was a gigantic carved picture of a Human face.

Whoever had engraved it into the stone walls had a masterful touch, the work of art perfectly replicating the look of some nobleman Human. It even had the condescending sneer that Skrakch was so familiar with. Oddly though, one of its eyes was closed, leaving it in the state of a permanent wink.

Twisting about to get a better look at the treasures, Skrakch wasn’t surprised to see a mirroring engraving sprawled on the far side of the opposite wall. Rather than a portrait, however, this engraving was a written passage. Unfortunately, it was written in Seotada, a long-dead language that he had only the barest of knowledge of.

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever seen such a bald-face trap as this one.” Zach laughed, gesturing to the gold. “I haven’t the faintest idea what that says, but I’m not touching anything until we figure out what to do.”

Letting out an impressed whistle, Winifred cautiously kicks a gold coin, watching it roll away safely. “I’ll admit, trap or no trap, I’m tempted to risk it. Look at the amount of gold in here! There’s more bloody coin on the floor than in the entirety of Dray’Mel.” She turned on Zach. “Still not seein’ that Dragon’s Blood ye promised tho,” she added bitterly. “Ye don’t want to know what I’ll get like when I start feeling the itch.”

While the Ratling watched his companions argue over what he was pretty sure was fool’s gold and the promise of Dragon’s Blood, he turned an appraising eye towards Ornn, the hulking construct standing stock still behind them.

In truth, Ornn was looking the most damaged out of all of them, having taken a massive blow to the chest. It didn’t take a keen eye to spot that the Golem was missing a huge chunk of his “flesh”, though the mute didn’t seem that bothered by it.

Not that it ever showed emotion, Skrakch corrected himself. No, it was just a tool and a rather impressive one. Judging by the now exposed runes uncovered by his chest, the level of Runecraft far exceeded anything Skrakch could manage.

Distracted as the amateur mageling was, he barely noticed Meekknuckle limping over to him until the Goblin began prodding at Ornn’s chest. “Magic Rat have way to help Ornn? Meek think he need special rock for chest. Last time Ornn get hurt, Ornn ate lots of special rock.”

Skrakch took a moment longer to memorize the exposed runes as well as he could before shaking his head to in disbelief. “The magic involved is beyond me, so I’ll not meddle with it. You’d be best to ask your Father.”

“Plus, something tells me Ornn will be fine, he’s tougher than the rest of us combined. Now help prop me up, so I can take a stab at the scrawl written on the wall.” Skrakch grinned, holding out an arm. “The sooner I crack this death trap, the sooner we can get the Hells out of here.

It didn’t take long for Skrakch to lose himself in his studies, scanning the wall over and over in his search for a clue, all while standing on Meekknuckle’s shoulders. The young Goblin tried his best to stay still, but Skrakch was quite animated as he tried to transcribe the text. Hells, the Ratling was so distracted he barely flinched as Zach snatched a vial from his bandolier, the roiling liquid mana inside a deep swirl of colors.

“Alright, second to the last test. If this Corrosive potion doesn’t set off the death trap, who knows. Maybe we’re rich boys!” Zach exclaimed, before chucking the vial towards a pile of gold.

Skrakch sighed but decided not to bother telling him that he’d grabbed a simple tincture of Flaxweed which would do wonders if you’d had a dodgy pie the night before but wouldn't do anything magical at all.

The vial shattered as it came into contact with the gold, little bits of liquid splattering over the riches and sending the gold pile tumbling down, making noise so beautiful Zach had to fight off the urge to shed a single tear. “Alright, one last test. Hey Meekknuckle, get over here. Why don’t you go grab a handful of the good stuff?

“Me busy, me help Skrakch. You go grab coins, stupid half-man…” Meek mutters, holding Skrakch upright. “Who care about stupid coins anyhow?”

“As much as it hurts me to say it, Meekknuckle is right,” Skrakch announces. “As far as I can tell, the ancient script is saying something simple. ‘Show me only Wealth’, whatever that means.”

As they all stared at the resplendent items before then, Winifred let out a long sigh. “This puzzle better not be about teaching us the meaning of friendship, or any of that nonsense. I can honestly say, I hate all of you fuckin’ idiots.”