Lindley dreamed of himself inside a massive cavern, looking down at a complex words of magic carved into the floor. The place was completely void of the living and the dead. This profound silence was only broken by his own hurried heartbeat as he looked around in fear.

All around him were strange symbols, magical signs engraved from the mouth of the cavern to the base of a stone staircase, spiralling upward.

It twisted over forty yards up through the air, stopping less than a yard short of the cavern's ceiling. He followed the signs and symbols around and around until he reached the foot of the stone staircase. At the center of each step was a symbol that kept on emitting faint golden light.

In his short existence, he had never seen runes like those before. He felt the urgency to turn back, but the need to forge forward won him over. After a brief pause he put his foot squarely on the first step.

Immediately his foot touched the step, the rune flares brighter which scared him further. With his eyes always moving to the next runic shape, he continued his climb until he reached the top. Here, the air felt thinner.

Lindley squeezed through a passage in the stone ceiling and found himself staring at a shrine inside another cavern. A cavern above a cavern? Strange but epic.

In every direction, he could see great chambers of countless statues carved from the same ancient stone as the walls. He knew where this path would eventually take him. It was the same place every time, but still he walked through unknown chambers, always hoping that the next turning will be the way out.

Once more, Lindley found himself in an enormous chamber, where a stretch of wall fifty yards long had been savagely ripped open. Picking his way over the rubble he entered the forest of statues.

Inside this place we're carved images of warlocks, sorcerers, rogues, mages, barbarians, knights and the others stood in anticipation of whatever was to come.

He was wondering about the statues when their eyes came alive, giving him a sudden jolt which startled him awake. Slowly, he opened his eyes and found himself in a close space of darkness.

He realized he had been dreaming. Was he dreaming about acquiring the mage class too? He quickly uttered the word, calling up his system. He smiled when he saw the mage class and the magic skill, Saving Grace, whatever that was. Now, he knew he could learn magic.

With his squinted eyes, he looked around and discovered that he was in a cavern. A cavern? He wondered how he got into the cavern, but there was something that seemed familiar to him about this cavern. Something...

A few seconds later, after his eyes had fully adjusted to his surroundings, Lindley realised that he was inside his childhood cavern. He used to play the hide and seek game inside it when he was younger.

The hollow cave.

Quickly, he checked his body and heaved a sigh of relief. The hilt of the Harbinger sword lay, hard and unyielding, beneath him. He drew further comfort from the feel of the blade, his only ancestral possession.

He stirred and was about to leave when he heard the voice of someone not far from him. He remained still and listen carefully. He could hear the voices now.

"What did you see, Byram?" came the sudden grave words, loud and close.

"A village scorched to ashes, Borden. The whole village. Never seen that before." A slightly deeper voice replied.

"Was it a raid?" The one addressed as Borden asked again.

"Can't say, Borden. Can't say."

"What do you mean?"

"Raids always leave marks behind, Borden. But in this village, there was no signs of any raid at all, yet everyone in that village is dead. No weapon's marks, not even a stray arrow was to be seen anywhere."

"I'm finding that hard to imagine. The whole village burnt to ashes?" Another voice asked.

"Yes... the bodies were burnt beyond recognition but they weren't looted." There was a brief pause. "See this ring, I found it on one of the hands."

"Byram, are you saying the whole village caught fire by itself, huh?" A voice, deeper than the rest, asked sarcastically. "And the rest fell over just because they were tired of standing up, eh?"

Tensed, Lindley continued to lay still, peering into the darkness.

"Enough, Elford." The voice of Borden sounded out again. "Hmm... powerful flames that can destroy a village like that, can only mean one thing."

"Dragons!" Calder's voice was lower still, and grim.

"Dragons?" Borden's voice rose almost jestingly. "How so?"

"What else could it be?"

"A powerful wizard." Byram quipped in. "A warlock."

"Hmm.."

"I doubt any warlock would go around burning a whole village to ashes for no reasons."

"There must be a reason."

"True, there's always a reason."

"What of a dragon lord with a score to settle?"

"Or a contracted one?"

"Hmmm, strange but certainly possible." There was a brief silence, and the voice continued. "If any of you think of a better answer, let's hear it."

"I can't think of any other reason, and I believe we can all agree with me."

"Alright then, let's agree it was a dragon riding warlock. So for now, we have to tread carefully."

"Aye." Came the reply in chorus.

"Alright, let's go."

"You can all go. I'll stay this one out."

Then there came the sounds of scrambling and scuffling by the mouth of the cave, and then clattered and were still.

Lindley waited for a long time, but heard only the sound of the wind. They must have all gone. Carefully he rose, stretched his stiff arms and legs, and crept forward in the darkness, around the corner—and almost onto the point of a sword.

"And who might you be, boy?" The man that was holding the sword said calmly. He wore tattered leather armor, old leather gauntlets and helm. He had a heavy, stubbly beard. "You're from that village, aren't you?"

"Please, don't hurt me." This close, Lindley could smell the stench of an unwashed man in armor, the stink of oil and wood smoke. "I don't want any trouble."

"And why should I do that? You're just a kid, and..." Byram squinted at the partially displayed blade under Lindley's cloak, and then stopped.

"What?" Lindley asked puzzedly, with a degree of caution.

"By the living gods! Is that the Harbinger Sword?" Byram asked in utter surprise. "Gardu's beard! Shouldn't it be in the tomb of Godric, the godking of Azmar. How come it's in your possession, boy? Now, hand it over."

The half-knight held out his hand for it.