Owen and Ferros’s POV

“Fuuuck” Owen screamed as he was tossed through the air into a frozen tree by the wolf mini-boss they were fighting.

“Confessor, are you alright?” Ferros asked, sounding concerned.

“I’m fine the beast merely caught me off-guard.” Owen lied. He had seen the mini-boss coming at him but wasn’t fast enough to block its attack and thus was sent flying. He played it off well but eyed the mini-boss warily as he stood up keeping his back to the tree.

“Rooper formation now!” Owen shouted.

“Sir!” Ferros replied as he leapt into action.

For such a simple name the Rooper formation was a terror to be unleashed upon the enemies of the Inquisition. Normally done by three or more agents but equally effective with two. The lead agent would draw the enemies attention while the others would circle around and cut the targets tendons then use the severed tendons as ropes to hold or choke their opponents.

The wolf mini-boss however didn’t react, either uninterested or unbothered by their actions and chose to let them move into position. It just stood there keeping Owen in its sight and ignoring Ferros.

“Come on, you mangy fleabag.” Owen yelled while pounding his right fist into his left palm. “Let’s see how tough you are.”

The taunt looked like it worked as the wolf mini-boss leapt forward at Owen fangs bared and forepaws coated in ice. Owen prepared to grapple the wolf while Ferros, seeing his chance, lunged for the wolf’s hind legs.

Just as quickly the wolf turned mid jump and caught Ferros’s blade in its powerful jaws. Not losing momentum it proceeded to toss Ferros around like a ragdoll. Knocking him into the frozen trees that surrounded them and forcing Owen to duck and dodge out of the way of the mini-bosses improvised weapon.

“Paladin hold on, I’ll get you!” Owen screamed as he ducked again.

“I’m trying sir.”

Owen didn’t even get close. As he tried to help Ferros the mini-boss had apparently had enough and bit down, shattering Ferros’s blade and sending him crashing into a nearby tree. Owen wasted little time putting himself in between the mini-boss and the stunned Ferros.

“I really hope Roslyn is having as much fun as we are.” Owen grumbled before charging back into the fight.

Martyr Roslyn POV

Martyr Roslyn was having a criminal amount of fun toying with the goblin blood mage. At this point it had stopped being a fight and devolved into an old fashion torture session. The once formidable looking blood mage now lay crumpled on the floor, his arms bent at impossible angles and his legs served at the knees. The staff he held no speared him through the lower back pinning him in place on the ground, the empty pits where his eyes used to be dripped blood onto the ground, as Roslyn looked down at him from her seat atop a small pile of blood-thrall corpses.

“Well, I have to say I haven’t had this much entertainment in years. So, for that I thank you. It's really nothing personal, blood mages just seem to bring out the worst in me.” Roslyn said in the sweet voice of an old lady.

“I think I also owe the dungeon an apology. You were nowhere near the level of power or the depravity of the blood mages that helped create me. I can see now that my anger was misplaced and that you didn’t deserve most of what I did to you.”

The goblin didn’t respond. The pain he was in was too much. Any stray twitch sent waves of pain rocketing across his mutilated body, yet he lived. Roslyn that was her name, she was keeping him alive he could feel it. Her power coursed through his body keeping the majority of his blood from leaking out. Why wouldn’t she end this? She had already won.

“I can see great things coming from this place in the future, great things indeed.” Roslyn continued. “A new generation of fighters and scholars. As a matter of fact, I think I will request that the Inquisition and the Guild share joint access to this dungeon.”

Feeling better than she had in years, Roslyn hopped off her corpse chair and looked off into the distance.

“Ah, this has been an enlightening experience. To think I got so worked up over a blood mage as weak as you I’m kind of embarrassed right now. So, what do you say we forget this happened huh?”

When she didn’t hear an answer Roslyn looked down at her opponent. The poor wretch was bleeding from its empty eyes and unable to move with a staff through the middle of its body, not to mention the crippled arms and missing legs.

Roslyn's face scrunched up in a wince. “Right, I did a number on you. Well, if it makes you feel any better since you're one of the mini-bosses I would have to have killed or disposed of you eventually if me and my friends wanted to continue to the boss. So how about this I just finish you off and go about my business? Sounds good okay, exsanguinate.” With those words Roslyn drained the remaining blood from the goblin and stored it in a flask at her waste.

“Now then time to head for the swamps. If I remember correctly the last three mini-bosses should be in that direction somewhere.” Roslyn smiled. “I wonder if Owen and Ferros will beat me there? Oh well only one way to find out.”