I stared at my forearm, and the quest pop-up:

You have accepted the Quest, “Kill Trox the Goblin Wizard.”

If you complete the Quest within one week, Nissa’s disposition will become “Friendly” toward you and your party. You will also earn (6) Character Points that you can allocate to your base stats.

If you do not complete the Quest within one week, your Blood Oath will activate, and you will die. Your Hit Points will reduce to (0), and only resurrection in the Spawn Room will return you to life.

Damn, not even a chance for a magical resurrection like Sonja? Good to know. I tapped the popup, and I saw the quest appear in my Character Sheet’s “Active Quests” section:

ACTIVE QUESTS:

Kill Trox the Goblin Wizard

Destroy Angelus the Demon Lord

“Now, you wait outside the arena,” Nissa said. “The Ritual of the Crimson Leaf is sacred and can only be seen by the practitioner and the Warriors.”

When she said that, three more gnomes entered the theater from a doorway on the other side and shuffled down the stone steps toward the altar. At least I thought they were gnomes. They are about the same size as Nissa, but these guys wore red, hooded robes with sleeves that hung below their hands and the lower ends dragging along the ground. The hoods kept their faces in shadow. I swear to God, they looked like red Jawas.

Nissa frowned at the newcomers and said, “Er, the practitioner, the Warrior, and my assistants.”

Nissa’s assistants took up positions around the table. I still couldn’t see into the shadows of their hoods. No eyes, no mouths, nothing. It was like a solid wall of darkness blocked their faces.

“I don’t know about this….”

“Time grows short, Paladin,” Nissa said impatiently. “You have signed the contract. You are bound.”

Constantine put a hand on my arm. “Come on, brother. She’s already dead. They can’t do any worse to her.”

I could think of many worse things they could do to her, but Constantine was essentially correct.

I pointed a threatening finger at Nissa. “The contract says she comes back to our satisfaction. Remember that.”

“Yes, yes, now go,” she said, shooing us toward the door.

I gave Sonja one last look and then walked up to the exit. Two more red-robed gnomes stood next to the door. When Constantine, Stephen, and I exited the theater, Nissa cried out behind us, “And don’t come in no matter how many screams you hear.”

I turned around. “What?”

But the gnomes slammed shut the large door, and I heard a bar fall upon it from the other side.

I was tempted to climb to the top of the building and get in that way, but Constantine and Stephen seemed to read my mind.

“Mace,” Stephen said in a warning tone, “just let them do what they need to do.”

“Did she say screams?” I asked. “She said screams, right?”

“Aye,” Constantine said, staring at the closed door.

“If I hear Sonja screaming—”

“It’ll mean she’s alive,” Stephen finished.

I looked at him for a long time and then nodded slowly.

“You might find this hard to believe, pretty boy, but you’re not the only one who’s worried about her. Either we let them do whatever they’re going to do, or we bury her. I don’t like it any more than you, but here we are.” He gave me a sour look and said, “Need I remind you that we’re in this mess because of you.”

Mace instinctively wanted to punch Stephen in the balls, but I had already concluded that Stephen was right.

“I know,” I said and then leaned back against the stone wall. “This is my fault. I should have listened to you guys. I’m sorry.”

Stephen looked at a loss for words, and Constantine grunted with approval.

“What did you do after I ran off?” I asked.

They traded telling me different parts of the story. After I ran toward the illusion of my son, Sonja made the call to retreat up the gravel corridor because she had the tactical sense to know that Trox would send some of his goblins to search for them.

“We didn’t know how to open the Level Two door,” Stephen said, “or we would’ve left your ass behind.”

They ran up the dark corridor as fast as possible, all while hearing the three goblins chasing them. When they got to the exit above Dungeontown, a squad of gnome guards wearing battery backpacks and copper gloves stopped them with blasts of lightning above their heads as a warning shot to halt.

“We’re talking Sith-style forks of it, brother,” Constantine said. “Very impressive.”

“Why didn’t they use the gloves when the goblins started attacking?” I asked.

“Apparently, it takes time to charge them up,” Stephen said. “The gnomes guarding the exit were the only ones with fully charged gloves, and they wasted their juice on us.”

Constantine said they tried to explain that goblins were hot on their tail, but the gnomes didn’t believe them and marched them toward the town for questioning. Once they got near the hut where I found them, the three goblins shot out of the cave entrance and flew over the town, dropping grenades of red fire. I figured it was what they had used to collapse the entrance to Level Two.

“Our guards were the first to die,” Constantine said. “The little lads tried firing at the goblins, but their gloves took too long to recharge.” He shook his head grimly. “The goblins flew by and cut them in half.”

“We took cover in the hut where you found us, and I tried returning fire,” Stephen said quietly, “but I kept missing. And it only seemed to enrage them. They landed and just slaughtered everyone they could reach.” He sighed through his nose and looked away. “It was like they were killing little kids on a playground.”

I nodded slowly, remembering my horror at seeing the goblins swinging their scimitars and pieces of gnomes flying everywhere.

“Sonja wanted to rush out to fight the goblins,” Constantine said grimly, “but we talked her into letting Stephen fry a couple first.”

“I think that’s when I showed up,” I said.

Constantine nodded. “Sonja was about to engage that last one, but the bugger decided to jump through our roof instead.” The dwarf set Mourner on the ground near his feet and then sat down with his back against the building. “If you boys don’t mind, I’m gonna nod off for a bit and try regenerating my Magic Points.”

With that, he closed his eyes, and he actually started snoring. I envied him. After the battle and my worry for Sonja, I had so much adrenaline pumping through me that I almost wished for someone or something to fight.

Stephen stood against the building, his thumbs hooked into his rope components belt, while I paced the street outside the theater. I was amazed at the job the gnomes were doing putting their village back together. They still hurried about, but all the fires were out, and the smoke they’d produced was either dissipating or rising through the large opening in the cavern’s ceiling.

After pacing for what felt like a half-hour, I ran over to the ruined building where Sonja had died and grabbed the scimitar I’d used on the goblin. The scimitar was heavy and unwieldy, but I felt better having some weapon than no weapon. At least I knew I could smite with weapons that weren’t my Ancestral Longsword.

When I came back, Stephen caught my eye and asked in an even voice, “Were you the one who killed me?”

His question caught me by surprise, and it must’ve shown on my face.

“I thought so,” he said. “These other two didn’t mention that I already died once, but it’s not that hard to figure out.”

I continued staring at him. Constantine and Sonja had told me that Stephen didn’t know I’d killed him in the Spawn Room during our first incarnation because they thought he’d try to return the favor. I wondered if I would suddenly have the fight I wished for.

“How did you know?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t think Stephen would attack me, but Mace was slapping me on the back for getting that scimitar.

“That I already died once?” He shrugged. “If you hold your finger down on the Rank label on your Character Sheet, it tells you how many times you’ve died. Not very intuitive, so I don’t think Constantine and Sonja knew about it.”

I looked at my forearm and pressed my finger on the Rank label. Sure enough, a pop-up appeared and told me I had died once, and it told me the Skills and Spells I'd lost when I died.

My eyes widened. “I had the Two-Sword Fighting skill?”

Stephen nodded, his face unreadable. “Yep. You used to have two Ancestral Short Swords, and you were a badass with them.”

My other Skills and Spells were the same, but I was stunned to see that I had only been an “Adept” when I died before. At least I had learned a thing or two since my last go.

Stephen seemed eerily calm that I had taken one of his lives already.

“How did you know it was me?”

He grinned. “I didn’t until I saw your face when I accused you.”

“I don’t remember it, you know.”

“I know. And I don’t remember you doing it, so at least there’s that.”

“So why bring it up?”

Stephen stared at the ground for a few moments, then said, “Because no matter how much Stephen would love nothing better than to see Mace brought low, I know that I'm Alec Bryson and that you are Chris Able, my friend.”

And then, out of all the shocking things that I’d seen since waking up in this dungeon, I saw something that topped them all.

Tears formed in Stephen’s eyes.

“So I’m swearing to you right now,” Stephen said, his voice catching, “I will never do anything to hurt you, Chris. Because I can’t watch another friend die. I just can’t. And I’m sorry for choking you yesterday.”

I wrapped Stephen in a tight, brotherly hug, trying not to crush his gaunt body. I think my eyes might have been a little teary as well.

“I swear the same, man. Chris and Alec go way back, and not even a blood feud will cancel that.”

Constantine groaned next to us. “Are you two going to keep making out, or do I need to find another place to sleep?”

“Would you rather stop us from killing each other?” I said, not letting go of my friend. I felt Mace’s revulsion over hugging it out with a Krait wizard, but he could stuff his prejudices. Alec was one of my oldest friends, and I would make sure he knew he could trust me.

Stephen said against my shoulder, “The gnomes are staring.”

I let go and glanced around at the gnomes performing their errands. The ones nearby who weren’t focused on their tasks stared at us with cherubic eyes and gave us a wide berth. Some of the kids pointed at us and laughed. A few even looked like Jack when he was a toddler, so I couldn’t get too annoyed at them.

“Glad we could entertain you,” I said to them.

That seemed to stop the adults from staring but did nothing to stop the kids from laughing.

I turned back to Stephen and said, “Oh, and thanks for leaving behind the torch and the dagger. I’ve got no use for the dagger, but the torch sure helped.”

He stared at me for a few seconds. “What?”

“The torch and dagger. Near the entrance to Level Two. You guys left it in a crevice for me to find. And the chalk scratchings of Sonja’s tattoo on the corridor walls.” I looked at him closely. “And you have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

Stephen gave me a confused look, and Constantine stared up at me with a furrowed brow. Stephen said, “No, I don’t. Because we never left those things for you. We didn’t have time.”

I glanced at Constantine, and he shook his head.

“Maybe Sonja did, and you didn’t notice?” I said.

“If she did, it was some amazing sleight of hand,” Stephen said.

Before I could wonder about that further, a shrill scream came from inside the theater.

It was Sonja.