The arena stunk of orc blood and the amalgam of Gutrender’s burning corpse and suit. I moved to the wreck and pulled out a cloth, using the extra grip provided by the fabric to yank my weapon free. I left my heavy armour in my pack, opting to use the light set, sword, and shield. Alwyn was on her feet, clapping furiously. The orcs remained silent until she torched a whole row with a jet of flame from her hand. Those not killed outright fought desperately to stop the fire spreading while the rest joined in the applause.

I used the distraction to whisper into the object in my palm.

The arch-sorceress blinked out of existence, only to appear at my side and make me flinch, nearly dropping the small item. Before she could see what I was doing, I popped it away and prayed the message had gone out.

“Bravo, champion! Bravo!” she trilled, raising my sword arm in victory. “I knew my friend would prevail against your king. Does anyone else dare challenge him?”

The uproar died away, leaving only the fearful faces of the broken warriors.

“None?” she asked.

I checked her level. It was still ridiculously high.

“So be it!” she cried. “Brave warriors of the mountain, you are defeated. The Dawnstars draw nearer by the day. Without a voice to bridge the two factions, they will wipe you out down to the last orc. They might even chance going deeper, to root you out and end the threat once and for all. Only I can be that voice. Only I can divert their wrath and allow you to retreat with dignity. Mark, will you stand with me? Will you name me the queen of the greenskins and be my champion forevermore?”

I studied her level once again.

It was unmoved.

Damn.

“No,” I said, reluctantly. “I don’t stand with you. In fact, I challenge you, Alwyn.”

Her oh-so-reasonable face was wiped away and the familiar look of a bulldog chewing a wasp was back. She started to shake with anger, and I backtracked a few paces, waiting for the crippling agony to go supernova in my head, followed by a quick crisping. The putrid green stone on her staff started to glow more fiercely as its wielder lost control.

“I’ll kill you! I’ll kill all of you!” she screamed, raising her arms towards me.

Instead of blinding pain in my head, a fireball burst from her free hand. I was almost too slow to block it, but I just about managed to raise my shield in time. It crashed into my elven barrier, bursting apart harmlessly. I returned the favour with a few torches that arced towards her robes.

She vanished again, appearing at my back.

I heard her whispered incantation and started to run. The swirling pillar of fire blazed to life, taking on a mind of its own and homing in on me wherever I ran. I circled back towards her, calling forth my rat minions. They eagerly appeared, ready to rend and tear, only to find there was nothing there as she vanished again.

“Fuck!”

I felt the increasing heat at my back as the spell neared. Unable to outrun it, I dropped to my knees and raised my shield like an umbrella. The searing column of burning energy hit the metal, pressing me down with its force. The overwhelming heat started to burn my skin and armour, so I activated Spidey. He jumped on her again without fear, providing a distraction that cut off the flame like a valve had been closed. I popped a health potion to undo the damage she’d caused, but I was only delaying the inevitable. She was just too powerful and blinked away, leaving my spider standing uselessly. The sum total of my arachnid companion’ damage was a measly sliver of her health bar. The poison and paralysing debuff ticked away, drastically reduced in effect and time by her level. A series of fireballs ended my eight legged friend, only the smoking tips of his legs remaining.

The smite cooldown ended, and I tried to pin her beneath the righteous light. Spying the opening portal above her head, Alwyn just teleported away again. The beam managed to scour away some dust and orc blood, and that was that. I had nothing left that could touch her except for my bow, which was likely to injure me worse than her anyway. She must’ve sensed my waning gifts as a nasty little grin spread across her thin, cruel lips.

“Well, little fly, you put up quite the fight. Or rather, you didn’t at all,” she commiserated. To the crowd, she said, “Once I’ve ended this upstart, do any of you dare stand against me?”

The orcs shuffled miserably, shaking their heads.

“Do you accept me as your ruler, or must I scour the roots of this mountain of your taint?”

They grunted in the affirmative that she was their queen.

“Good,” she said, slowly turning back to me. “And now for you, little fly.”

“I’ll still accept your surrender, Alwyn,” I offered. “This is your last chance.”

A fireball was her reply. Then another. And another. I rolled back and forth, dodging them with ease. It wasn’t a game I could play forever. Her mana reserves were inexhaustible, but my energy wasn’t. Inside my head, I was begging for her staff to destroy my ability to think and feel before the fateful spell could burn me alive. Like all evil fuckers, she seemed quite content to torture me right up until the point my body finally succumbed to the flames. Smite came off cooldown, and I activated it instinctively. She saw the halo of shimmering gold appear, and laughed while activating her teleport spell. When the brilliant glow of power struck her head and upper body, I almost believed I was imagining it. Her cry of pain banished that notion, and she reeled away, batting at the holy heat which blistered her skin.

“How?” she screeched, aiming her staff at me.

I shied away, fearing the pain which had so thoroughly broken me before. When nothing happened, I cracked an eye and found her looking at the weapon in confusion. The previously glowing crystal was now just a dull green stone.

Kur had achieved the impossible and I wanted to kiss those tusked lips.

“What have you done?” she demanded, her face a patchwork of red lesions.

“The treasure you found is now dust. My friend destroyed your stone.”

A flash of fear lit up her features a second before a fireball flew at me. I took the flaming sphere directly on my shield, so she fired another at me. I took this one too, then the next, each one weakening as she depleted her now very finite reserves of magic.

“What have you done?” she shrieked, sensing her diminished level.

“A little gift from your old friend, Ilfred,” I replied, listening to the whispers through the stone I held to my ear. They were little more than the same faint sounds you could hear with a large shell, like the ghosts of tides long since receded. “Did you think there wasn’t a way to curtail your power? Once I’d freed the others, they scoured every scroll in that tower to find the one they were looking for. A hex of their own; secret, hidden, almost forgotten because it had been so long since a sorcerer turned against Kherrash. But Ilfred remembered.”

Alwyn tried to throw another fireball, but all that burst from her hand was a few sparks. “What is this?” She looked at the uncooperative extremity in disbelief.

“A level playing field. I’ll allow you to go and get some armour and a sword, then we continue the fight.”

She looked like a rabbit in the headlights, shocked into paralysis. “But I’m not a warrior.”

“And I’m not a sorcerer. Up until a few weeks ago, I wasn’t even a warrior either. Go and get ready,” I urged, and the orcs dutifully opened the way I had entered.

“But you have your gifts! You’ll burn me with your light!”

“I won’t use any of them. We’ll meet as equals.”

“No we won’t!” she snapped, whirling towards the silent crowd. “You! Kill him! I order it!”

Their impassive faces looked on. They were beaten, and they knew it. So was the architect of their schemes as she screamed obscenities at the onlookers.

“If any of you want to join her, I’ll let you come down too,” I offered the orcs. “Strength in numbers and all that.”

None took my offer. Alwyn was reduced to running at the wall and attempting to climb out. She managed to make it up to the rim without breaking her neck, but the unforgiving orcs prevented her from climbing to freedom. Every time she went to cock her leg over, giving an altogether unladylike view of her underwear as the robes rolled up, they just pushed it back over. Her threats were empty and they knew it. She managed to conjure one small burst of flame that scorched one of the onlookers slightly, receiving a brutal push for her efforts. I heard her leg break as she landed awkwardly in the dust. Her scream echoed around the cavern.

“How long will this last?” I asked the small white stone.

The ghostly whispers that came back were clear; not much longer. Alwyn was like a pressure cooker, each minute that passed brought us closer to the explosion. It wasn’t even a conscious struggle, it was simply her subdued magical power trying to throw off the shackles that the combined weight of the living sorcerers had brought to bear on her.

“How long?” I asked.

The hushed reply had my stomach dropping. Alwyn’s wasted time had, in effect, put paid to my offer of fighting fairly. It was now life or death. Mine or hers. I started walking towards her crawling form, my legs feeling leaden. She caught sight of me and started to whimper, trying even harder to get away, her floppy limb following reluctantly. There was a trail of blood left in the dirt where the bone had pierced the skin, and I had to force the pity deep, deep down. The most humane thing to do to a wounded animal is to end its suffering, but in Alwyn’s case, she would soon be back to full power in spite of the injury. I would be the one put out of my misery, and with forewarning of what we could do to her, I doubted the sorceress would allow it to happen again. I would respawn, facing a much more dangerous opponent.

Still, as I stalked her, my feet leaving impressions in her spilled blood, I hesitated. I’d killed, even executed sleeping men, but I’ll be damned if my oh-so-moralistic code didn’t have me questioning if this was right. I knew that if this was an arch-sorcerer laid before me, I wouldn’t feel as conflicted, and that pissed me off. The woman was evil with a capital E, the blood of tens of thousands on her hands. Without Alwyn’s guidance, the orc hordes could’ve possibly been turned back long before they wrought so much damage. Now I was white-knighting, or simping, or whatever derogatory term referred to a man acting differently because it was a women before him.

“Please,” she begged, rolling over. The pain and exhaustion had finished her. “Don’t hurt me anymore.”

So many lives lost.

She looked so frail and innocent.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

The voices in my head were growing frantic. Their warnings stark.

Her tears tugged at my heart.

“You can spare me. I won’t hurt anyone.”

So many castles, towns, and villages. Just like Astrid’s. The image of the child’s rotating corpse on the spit smashed through my doubt.

“Plea…” Alwyn began, until my sword pierced her heart.

Pinned to the floor by my impaling thrust, she gaped up at me, a trickle of blood escaping her lips. I pulled out my sword, and the trickle turned into a deluge as the severed arteries flooded her lungs. The first dagger I’d looted spoke of a wound to my soul, and as I watched the evil woman die, it felt just like that. What did it say about me that I mourned her more because she was, in a stern, sharp-featured way, more beautiful than my other enemies. Jesus. What a fucking douche I was.

Her eyes glazed over, ending the torrent of blood that had poured out of her mouth. Alwyn lay on her back, the crimson fluid filled to brimming at her lips like the goblets I’d shared with Randulf, her head surrounded by a thick red halo. I found it difficult to look away until I heard the nervous shuffling of a thousand orcs. Turning my attention to the crowd, they stared at me and the death I’d delivered to the very heart of their lair. The dark blood of their kin had seeped through the dust, painting the ground with black stains. Gutrender’s body and machine were still a smoking ruin. And now their fiery mistress lay slain at my feet.

What could I say now? I was weary beyond words, but not from the fighting. “Anyone else?” I asked, the bloody sword hanging limply at my side.

They continued to stare down at me and it was starting to grate on my nerves.

“What do you want from me? If you want war, my friends will be here soon. We can finish this at the foot of the mountain!”

“I think they want you to dismiss them,” said Kur at my back, startling me. “We have no leader, no figurehead. It is within your power to banish us back to the deeps, where we will scheme and plot until another rises to take Gutrender’s place.”

I’d planted many seeds since setting foot on Kherrash, and I decided to plant one more. It was going into dry, tainted, unfertile soil, but I sowed it regardless. I hoped my prayers would be the first droplets of rain.

“If you ever want another way, a better way, where you can live in peace with your women and children, then consider this offer. I will tell the Dawnstars that you are a proud race. I will tell them that you can be more than an enemy. You may never become friends, but picture a future where you trade ore and gems for food and land. Where you will have your own place to call home that isn’t hidden by a million tons of rock, cut off forever from the light. The goblins are your enemy. They use you like cattle, to die at their whims. Seek them out in the darkness, and kill them all.”

No one replied. No one moved.

“Leave, now, and think on what I’ve said.”

They all started shuffling away, not giving any sign that they gave two shits for my corny speech. I figured I had to give it a shot. Who knew what could happen in ten years. Or twenty. A tiny green bud might sprout from the ground, offering a chance at peace between the two races. Kur turned away to join the march of the conquered.

“Hey!” I called.

“Yes, Mark?” Kur replied.

“I wasn’t talking to you when I said about going back down into the mountain.”

He smiled at me. “Where else would I go?”

“With me, out into Kherrash.”

“But they’ll kill me in a heartbeat,” he protested.

“No, they won’t. Not after I tell them who and what you are. You’ll be safe. I can’t promise you won’t get some cruel words and looks, but you won’t get beaten. You have my word on that.”

“Why would you do this?”

“Because I think you can be the first part of a potential bridge between your people and mine. You’re articulate and kind.”

“I’m an aberration. Nothing more.”

“What if they,” I pointed to the dwindling crowd. “are the aberration? What if you are what orcs are meant to be?”

“Do you think that’s the case?”

“Mate, I have no fucking idea, but I won’t let you go back with them to get battered on a daily basis. You can help me with what comes next, and I think that might just cement your place within Milton’s, and more importantly, the people’s minds.”

“What do you propose?” he asked.

“Firstly, I need to loot the bodies and then get the hell out of this place. Do you know the way to the surface?”

“I do. It’s a bit of a slog, but you seem strong enough to make it.”

“Good man. Shall we load up some pork and bread for the journey? You know the way to the kitchen.”

Kur smiled and nodded. “Follow me.”