The trip through the network of tunnels in the Sewers was largely uneventful but proved to be one of the nosier experiences Skrakch had experienced in recent times. The Goblins marching along behind them had, at one point, decided to sing some kind of marching song. It appeared to consist of the same two lines sung over and over in the same flat and tuneless voice. Those that weren’t joining in with the ‘song’ were complaining and shouting as they hauled the massive parcels of trade goods along. The cacophony of sound was great at keeping away any beast with a modicum of sense, but it definitely made it harder to concentrate.

Normally, Skrakch would find himself having to claw or perhaps whip a couple of the more annoying Goblins with his luscious tail. Things got pretty boring when you went so long without some thrilling combat to spice things up. Instead, however he was needing to turn his full focus on mastering his new Rune. Blazock had demonstrated it in his customary fashion, casting it on him a few times in order for his body to “feel the energy”.

Skrakch had always been certain that was total bullshit. He was sure the only reason the old coot did it was for his own sadistic amusement. Not that Skrakch overly minded of course. Blazock putting him through his paces might be more painful, but it was a hell of a lot cheaper than visiting Survix. And anyway, compared to having his gravity completely inverted when learning the last Rune, this most recent acquisition was positively harmless.

He traced the Rune in the air with his left paw while slowly filling it in with his Mana. The rapidly growing spell started to shimmer a deep purple, distorting the air around it. Skrakch used his right paw to point toward some of the Goblin workers who were currently taking a rest stop from the long journey. He locked in their features deep within his mind. When the Rune was fully charged, he let the Mana run rampant, silver chains erupted from his chest and snaked towards the five chosen targets sinuously.

A couple of them realized and tried their best to dodge the encroaching chains but they were no match for the power of Skrakch’s Mana. The chains doggedly chased them down, wrapping around their bodies tightly. While Skrakch caught his breath from the exertions of his casting, he was happy to observe the effects of his new power.

The spell didn’t appear to fully restrict the Goblin’s movements. Instead, the little green critters seemed to be reacting in slow motion, most of them flailing and trying to get the ethereal chains off them. More impressively though, one of them appeared to be completely still, focusing inwards. After a long moment, Skrakch felt a sense of resistance emerging from his Core.

The fledgling caster did his best to keep his spell intact but, eventually, the resistance wore him down and overwhelmed him. The stoic Goblin managed to break free from the silver chains, resuming normal speed. He spat in Skrakch’s direction, following up with a tirade of Goblin curse words before hurrying away.

Skrakch ignored him. He needed to focus his attention on his remaining captives. He fed more Mana into the spell. The Goblin's attempts at escaping were rendered completely futile. Eventually, though the swelling Mana costs became overbearing, forcing the Ratling to end the spell.

Amusingly, one of the Goblins tripped and fell flat on his face as he was released from the chains, obviously thrown off by the sudden return of his normal movement speed. Grinning to himself at the sight, Skrakch looked over to his Master, hoping for a bit of praise.

“Not bad Rotten One,” Blazock intoned with a slight nod. “Ironically, you’ve taken to the Slow spell quicker than I could’ve imagined. It’s an Arcane Rune, not much different than your Feather Fall or Gravity Runes. Just remember to alter the Rune to accommodate different numbers of targets,” He continued as he paced to and fro, his walking stick clicking on the stone floor. “Now, tell me why my son Quickfingers was able to break the spell so easily?”

“He did the smart thing and channeled his own Mana against mine,” Skrakch replied, glaring at the Goblin in question. Quickfingers was back in line with his brothers although he noticed that the disgusting little creature was smirking smugly. “If I want to use the Rune on someone with any brains, I’ll need to inscribe more Mana.”

Distracted as he was, Skrakch didn’t notice the walking stick until it smacked him upside the head. He supposed he should be used to Blazock’s violent teaching methods by now but it still came as a shock. The old Goblin could move startlingly fast.

“Fool!” Blazock admonished so loudly that several Goblins turned and stared. “It’s not what Quickfingers did, it’s that you aimed for too many targets at once. You must gauge the enemy’s willpower and adjust accordingly. If your foe is wise, focus the full effect on him. And if you face mindless beasts, then you can spread the effect,”

Quick to nod in response, Skrakch still eyed the muddy brown Goblin with anger in his eyes. Quickfingers had a reputation as one of the few Goblins in the village with as light of a touch as he did. It irked him that the creature had escaped so quickly. Skrakch knew there was little sense in developing a rivalry with a damned Goblin of all things, but still…

“Focus!” Blazock demanded. “You’ve done a good job at mastering the basics of the spells I have taught. Perhaps it’s time for you to practice the next step,” He continued, stroking his beard in contemplation. “Spells of the same strength can be combined to great effect, though it will take more of your Mana to manage it. You should practice combining your Feather Fall and your Gravity Runes,”

Skrakch tried his best not to appear over eager but he was thrilled at this new prospect. From all the research that he’d done on spellcasting, all the books agreed on one thing. The act of mastering a combination spell was considered to be the true starting point of a proper Mage. It was one thing to know a basic spell, but a whole other kettle of fish altogether to force together two separate effects to create glorious new magic.

“The trick is deceptively simple. All you need to do is cast the spells at the same time while firmly holding the new spells’ effect in your mind. Easy enough Rotten One?” Blazock grinned, prodding Skrakch’s chest with his bony finger. “The issue is that the two spells need to be cast at exactly the same time. Failure means that you will send the Mana rebounding back inside you. Screw it up badly enough and the shock alone could kill you. The trick is to separate your focus, your very mind, into two halves. Then cast the spells individually, before melding them together and releasing the effects on your chosen foes,”

“Split my mind in two?” Skrakch asked incredulously. “Is there a trick to help with that or is it something I’m just supposed to practice? I can’t imagine it’s easy…”

Blazock laughed, a deep rumbling noise that caused all the nearby Goblins to flinch.

“Each caster must find their own way to manage it. Some consider it a private affair but I shall let you in on my own method Rotten One…” The Goblin stretched his hand skyward, and let out a small trail of Mana, glowing brighter and brighter by the second.

“For me, the solution was simple enough. What controls the minds of mortals? What governs our ability to control our Core?” Blazock reached out with his left hand, as it too began to emanate light. It was an unnatural red glow that hurt Skrakch to look upon.

“I reached deep within my Core and plucked at its very heart, the soul within. And I chiseled and smashed until it shattered,” Hair rustling from an unseen wind, Blazock brought his hands together, the two spells shining brightly as they seemed to fight one another until the shine abruptly faded. Opening his palms, sat a small bead, glimmering in the darkness of the sewers. “I then bound my soul back together, separated yet whole.”

Idly waving his hands, the small bead seemed to float lazily, before drifting back the way they’d come from, any Goblin in its path scurrying out of its way. Watching it drift away, Skrakch was tempted to ask what it was, before a blinding light burst forth, and a deafening blast tossed him on his ass.

Shielding his eyes, it took a few seconds for Skrakch to clear his vision, and look at the devastation Blazock had wrought. The Ratling expected to see rubble and debris, but instead, the path behind them had been forcefully enlargened. The walls had simply been shorn backward, gouged deeply on all sides. For a moment, Skrakch felt a tinge of disappointment, before a cry of pain grabbed his attention.

One of the Goblins closest to the blast was still on the floor, screaming in pain. As some other Goblins rushed to help him up, the issue was readily apparent. Where the blast had touched the Goblin's leg, the flesh had simply disappeared, the bone carved along a perfect sphere. The muscles still twitched convulsively, as blood pumped through empty veins.

Looking back at the sewer, Skrakch realized an oddity that had escaped his notice. For all the damage the spell had done, there wasn’t any sign of debris, the material seeming to have simply ceased existing. Glancing back at his Master, Skrakch met his gaze meekly.

“An example for you. Two simple spells, combined into a complex one. The effect is often more than the sum of its parts. Just know that the price will be steep. Not everyone has the aptitude to take the next step to greatness.” Nodding at his apprentice, Blazock started unhurriedly walking down the path once more, his Goblin children hurrying after him, whilst carrying the wounded Goblin.

Trailing behind, Skrakch felt a thrill run through him. As impressive as the display had been, Skrakch was more focused on his own possibilities. Although he wasn’t exactly sure what effects he could achieve with his own limited spell pool, it was definitely worth trying to master this new ability.

The rest of the trek through the Sewer system was largely mundane. Skrakch became fully absorbed in practicing his new spell. It wasn’t long before the warband arrived at their destination. In the center of the path, the stone floor simply fell away, a massive cliff suddenly spreading before them. Walking up to the edge gingerly, Skrakch peeked over, inhaling swiftly at the sight of a deep ravine, its depths seemingly endless.

Even with his superior vision, he could see no end to the drop. It seemed as though the chasm lead into the very bowels of the World itself. The drop was a steep one, resembling an unending abyss.

Skrakch reached for his bandolier and grabbed an empty potion bottle. Tossing it into the depths, he waited for the sound of the glass breaking to reach him. He waited… and waited…

Instead of the unmistakable sound of smashed glass, the Ratling began to hear the rhythmic beating of a drum. At a steady pace, the noise was getting louder and louder until it was all that Skrakch could hear. Jumping back from the chasm’s edge, Skrakch turned to his Master. Blazock was standing nearby, a small frown starting to deepen his features.

Skrakch scurried away, stepping behind the motley assortment of Goblins, doing his best to blend into the shadows. Some of Zacharias’ magic would be great right now, he thought to himself. He’d already gotten what he’d wanted out of his visit and he was more than happy to stay out of the limelight.

The drumbeat reached an ear-splitting crescendo and from his hiding spot, Skrakch was able to see the first creatures as they started to crest the chasm’s edge. One long leg stretched out, a small claw digging into the stone. Then another, and another, before a large hulking beast pulled its gargantuan weight into the Sewer proper.

Standing on six legs, the creature’s massive body could’ve easily weighed more than four standard humans. Yet its head was tiny, with beady eyes that looked about in a daze. It had two spiked mandibles which it clicked together rapidly. Most impressive of all, was its gleaming blue exoskeleton that covered the beetle-like critter’s entire back.

Strapped to the giant beetle’s back was a rather familiar sight. Skrakch felt his stomach drop. An idiot like Zacharias would no doubt say that the rider looked exactly like him. But Skrakch knew that was far from the truth. The Brown Iskrin rider was far inferior in the looks department. Not only that but the poor bastard was crisscrossed with deep, ugly scars. He’d probably been whipped since he was a Pup, Skrakch thought darkly.

He watched as more beetles scuttled up the chasm’s walls, each with a brown Iskrin riding on their backs. They fanned out with practiced movements, swiftly and efficiently directing their mounts to cover the rift’s entrance.

Skrakch had to admit that the procession was quite an imposing sight but it was surprising to see that it was the brown Iskrin that were being sent to collect the Tribute. They were mostly slaves, not warriors.

Interrupting this train of thought, one of the Iskrin started to beat upon its drum once more. The sound echoed almost painfully in the confined area. Wincing at the sound, Skrakch froze momentarily as a large shape burst from the chasm, a beetle twice the size of the others flying through the air on rapidly beating wings. The mandibles of its brothers began to click in reverence, some even rearing back in their excitement.

Atop this creature’s glorious crimson back stood another Iskrin. Standing at least twice the height of the brown warriors, this Iskrin had blood-red eyes and a glossy white coat. While the brown Iskrin were mostly nude, the albino was garbed in red silk robes with various depictions of combating Ratlings upon it. His tail was crooked and hairy and it curled around his body. The Albino posed upon his mount’s back, standing with grace as he stared down imperiously at Blazock.

Worse yet, was the feeling of roiling Mana that emanated from the Albino Iskin’s Core. It assailed the Goblins and Skrakch alike with the sensation of being buried alive. Struggling to breathe under the might of its Mana, Skrakch collapsed to one knee as his head spun, his sight starting to fade.

“Enough of that,” Blazock calmly ordered. A wave of power swept through the gathered villagers. Feeling the pressure lift, the Goblins were quick to recover as they dragged their spears upright. Gasping for air, Skrakch watched as the Ancient Patriarch beckoned the Albino Iskrin downwards. “I’m surprised to see you again Crown Prince. To what do I owe this honor?”

“I have come to collect our wayward slave,” The looming Albino announced, his gaze snapping over to Skrakch. The Ratling in question withered in fear as his breath caught in his throat.

Resisting his urge to scream in panic, Skrakch settled for freezing in place and casting a terrified look towards Blazock... only to notice the grin playing across the old coot's face.

The bloody prick was enjoying this.