The Forge held Gavin's arm in his giant fist. Angon was more than enraged; he wasn't himself. Something deep within him had set off anger, strength so great that he no longer had a conscience.

Angon stared down his arm at Gavin, unaware that minutes before he had been fighting to save his life. To the Forge, he was nothing more than another threat, a NEW enemy, so he squeezed his fist closed tighter, and Gavin screamed in pain. He thrashed, trying to free himself, but this only caused greater pain.

"Let me go, Angon!" Gavin pleaded, "I will do anything! Just please let go!"

Words did not matter to Angon. Nothing mattered to Angon. He continued to squeeze; that satisfying crack would come, but that would not be enough, only death would quell the molten anger.

The poor Elf looked up into Angon's glowing yellow eyes—they had turned a shade darker now, almost orange. Gavin pleaded with his own violet eyes.

"Please," he said.

For Gavin knew if Angon crushed his wrist he would never be able to hold his bow properly again. His hunting prowess, his purpose in life, would be gone. Not to mention he would be ugly and deformed. His existence would be pointless, for even his lover back in Windale would reject him—he'd be an outcast.

"Please," he begged.

But there was no getting through that wall of hatred. A wall that had built by the creator of the Forge long ago.

"Let him go, Angon." a female voice came from within the raging machine's mind.

For all the anger inside the iron shell, for all the death imposing destructive strength, there was a small quiet voice pleaded as well. He couldn't explain where it came from or if it was real at all, but something about it made him open his hand just enough for the pain to cease. He still held the Gavin tight, but his head dropped to his chest, and a whirlwind of thoughts spun within.

Who was this voice? Was she someone he once knew? Was she his mother maybe? His creator? A friend from the past that he just could not remember? Then another voice spoke, this time, the voice came from the ground by his feet.

"Angon," Lavina said, "What are you doing?"

The half-elf girl looked up at Angon and was confused. Why were there contours of anger in his smooth metal face? Her eyes trailed over to Gavin and saw the look of fear.

"What's happening?" Lavina asked as she sat up.

"Run for your life!" Gavin ordered her, "The Gargoyle has gone insane and wishes to kill us both!"

"That can't be true!" Lavina shot back and looked at the Forge, who in turn looked back at her, "Is it Angon?"

Angon shook his head and stared hard at Lavina. She was familiar to him; she was his friend—even though he had known her a short time, no more than the length of a day, he knew her. He could not hurt her ever--then he looked over at the Gavin and wondered why the Elf's wrist was in his hand.

"What happened?" Angon asked, releasing the Gavin.

"You evil twit!" Gavin shouted, balling his fist into anger as he replaced his dagger, "You nearly crushed my wrist! You nearly killed me!"

"I would never do such a thing!" Angon said, glancing between Gavin and Lavina.

"I know you wouldn't," Lavina said, putting her hand upon Angon's arm.

The touch held a power within it, for any anger that still resided with the Forge vanished in that instance.

"He did and he will!" Gavin snapped, "You will see, we won't wake up!"

Gavin stomped away, muttering Dwarven curses under his breath.

Angon looked down to Lavina and frowned, "I'm sorry for whatever I did."

Lavina smiled and wrapped her arms around Angon, causing a feeling to erupt in his stomach, such a fluttering that he thought he would lift off and fly away.

"You have no reason to be sorry," Lavina said, resting her head against his chest, "You saved Gavin from the ghouls and me too! You're a hero!"

"A... hero?" Angon asked, "What is that?"

"Someone who does something amazing," Lavina said, eyes closed, and giving a quiet little moan, "Someone who saves the day."

Angon put his arm around Lavina and held her close, not tightly like he did to the Gavin, just enough so he could feel the pressure of her body against him. It was a beautiful feeling indeed.

***

Gonzeelda stopped in her tracks. She felt a vibration under the pads of her bare feet. She closed her eyes and breathed in. She could smell Budge and Weiggs odor from before her, but now she smelled the stench of something more; the stench of a Dwarf. The Orcess looked around through the dark. She had her Night Sight spell enacted, so she lifted her hand. Budge saw this and lowered the summoned torch, and instantly it snuffed out.

"What go on?" Budge asked.

Weiggs stopped too and looked around, "Something wrong?"

Gonzeelda nodded through the darkness, "There's a smelly Dwarf down here."

She held the scythe, which named, 'Beauty', and tapped the ground once. A small shockwave of energy ran underneath her. She felt electricity crackle between her toes and spread out. A few moments later the power bounced back and filled her head with fuzzy pictures.

Yes, she saw him. She couldn't make out the physical details such as the color of his beard, nor hair, but she could see his shape. A Dwarf was indeed in the cavern and was following them. In fact, he wasn't far behind at all. Did he mean to harm them? And what was a Dwarf doing here so far from Dwarf lands. As far as she had always known, and knowing was her business, the short, stout, bearded men always travelled in packs, but this one—he was alone.

KABOOM

Somewhere behind them, near the beginning of the cavern came the explosion of stone. She spun around in time to see the dust flying up into the air. Thankfully for the Dwarf, it shielded him even from her sight.

"Light the torch Budge," Gonzeelda said, "It's time to hunt a Dwarf."

Budge held up the magical stick once again, and the light sprung to life, the flame dancing about in a wild spin.

"Weiggs, Budge, get him," she ordered, a wicked smile crossing her face, "Catch him and bring him to me."

"Yes, Mistress!" Weiggs said.

"Uh, Okay," Budge said.

The pair of Orcs rushed off across the lake-filled cavern back toward the entrance from which they came.

***

"I don't want him to come with us any longer!" Gavin said to Lavina.

He looked over his shoulder at the thing he called a 'Gargoyle. Angon was sitting at the campfire, poking a stick into the flames and jumping back when small bursts would rise into the air.

"It was a misunderstanding!" Lavina said in Angon's defense, "He wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"No, but an Elf he would," Gavin argued, "You didn't see the rage I saw within him!"

"You are blind, sir," Lavina said, propping her legs up on his back as she lay behind him, her feet in the air above his head.

Gavin leaned forward and shook his head.

"Can you get your legs off of me?" he said, "I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you!"

"Apologies," Lavina said and brought her legs down, spun around and rolled onto her stomach. She looked at him, her chin in the grass.

"Are you going to take me seriously?" Gavin asked, from his seat on the rock.

"I always take you seriously," she said, "Or more so I take you as being a serious willy-nilly."

Gavin sighed, and looked up into the night sky. The stars were out in multitude that night, and he loved to stare at them. That was the only thing he and Lavina had in common—they worshipped the Keeper of Stars, Ellania. She had been quiet recently. When he prayed to her for guidance, he often felt something inside, something that made him feel sure of his choices—but tonight, she wasn't giving him any direction. He would just have to deal on his own.

"Do you feel her?" Gavin asked.

Lavina kicked her legs behind her then rolled onto her back and stared at the stars as well.

"Not really," Lavina replied, "I never really felt anything. I just know the stars are something so much greater than us—that's why I believe in the way of the 'Keeper'"

"There are many things greater than us," Gavin said, "The Gods and Goddesses for one, then there's Dragons, and many other celestial and abyssal beings."

"That's not what I mean, silly!" Lavina said, throwing her legs over Gavin's lap, and cupping the back of her head in her hands.

"Then tell me your beliefs," Gavin said, "For I do not understand them. If follow the Goddess because I believe her demands."

"She doesn't have 'demands', Gavin," the half-elf girl giggled, "I feel as if she follows me. We're like friends in a way—she watches over me because she believes in me."

"You have things very backwards, my dear child," Gavin said, picking up her legs and dropping them on the ground.

Lavina gave a great 'harrumph' and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her.

"I think it is YOU," she said, "You have things backwards. You think Angon to be a dangerous Gargoyle when in fact he is a beautiful creation! He is sweet and kind! He is a hero!"

It was Gavin's turn to 'harrumph'.

***

Angon was amazed by the fire and was unable to explain its mechanics. He poked the stick inside and moved about the embers, and sometimes they would send little puffs of fire to him. He knew enough to stay away from them. When Lavina had first had the fire going, he tried to touch the beautiful flames, but it had caused a 'painful' sensation. Something that was very uncomfortable and made his fingers turn red for a few moments. It was similar to the feeling when the ghouls had scratched his leg—and although the scratches had closed and healed up, he did not like this 'pain' at all.

He dropped the stick on accident, and the fire was quick to consume the piece of wood. The Forge sighed and looked up at the stars. Lavina had told him they were all suns as well. Each was very far away and had their worlds like Anhsook Del Iris, floating about them in the empty place called 'space'. Angon smiled thinking of this, not because it was a beautiful thought, but because he pictured the pretty girl's peach-colored face and red lips. He didn't know where they travelled, but he hoped he never had to leave her side.

Just then he saw something moving in the sky. His eyes shot up, and he stared at a red ball of fire that looked much like a miniature sun shooting through 'space'. Suddenly it popped into his head—Lavina told him that when you see one of these 'shooting stars' that you are to make a wish and Ellania would make it come true. It was time to make that request, and although he could want for anything, even to know his purpose, or how he came to be. Instead, he spoke another one.

"I am Angon," he said, staring up, "I wish to be on a journey with Lavina forever."

The star continued on and kept going for some distance until he could no longer see it anymore.

"Did it work?" he wondered aloud.

"Did you make a wish?" Lavina asked, startling the poor Forge. He nearly fell from the stone he sat upon.

"D-did you hear it?" he asked.

"So YOU did make a wish!" Lavina said, with a giggle, walking up to Angon and walking behind him.

Angon tried to follow her, but his neck would not turn far enough. She leaned an elbow on each of the Forge's shoulders and rested her chin on the top of his head.

"I did," Angon said.

"Don't worry," she replied, "I didn't hear. You're not supposed to tell anyone anyway. Or it will never come true."

"I am glad then," he said, "That no one heard it."

Lavina giggled, "I'm happy to hear that. I hope your wish comes true, just like mine."

"What was yours?" Angon asked.

She danced around in front of him with a little spin that caused her short skirt to twirl, and then plopped to her knees, before him.

"I can not say!" she said with a huge smile and tilting her head to the side.

"So it will come true," Angon said.

"So it will come true," Lavina repeated.

Angon smiled and for a moment imagined that she had made the same wish as he; that she wanted to spend forever journeying with him as well.

"I made a wish too!" Gavin said, walking into the light of the fire and glaring at Angon.

"Good for you, Gavin!" Lavina said, smiling at him.

"My wish was for the Gargoyle, that's you 'Angon'," he said pointing to the Forge, "That you will go away and leave us to our journey."

Angon's yellow orb eyes narrowed and he stood up.

"Then the Gavin's wish will not come true," Angon said.

"And why is that!?" Gavin snapped.

"Because you told us your wish," Angon said.

Lavina stood up and crossed her arms before her chest.

"AND because I will not send him away ever!" Lavina said, "He's here to stay!"

A huge smiled spread across Angon's soul. At that moment, he did believe Lavina made the same wish he did.

***

Buster ran around the edge of the lake, trying to keep as quiet as he possibly could. Dwarves did not know stealth! Dwarves were meant to yell, curse, brawl, drink and belch—and not a single one of those were done quietly.

He could hear the Orcs laughing as they went along.

"Dwarfy-dwarf," one called, "Where be you?"

"Yeah," the other called out, "We just want play. It is truth!"

The fetter it was truth, and Buster knew it. They were faster than he was, and he knew he would soon have to battle them. And despite the fact he was sure he could defeat two of those stupid puke green creatures, he wasn't so sure about the female. It large bust, long legs and flat belly couldn't seduce him, or likely any self-respecting Dwarf on the face of Anhsook, but it was her weapon that he worried about—that scythe. And if he killed her little henchmen then he knew she would come looking.

Buster tried to think as he ran, but that was also something a Dwarf was unaccustomed to. He could jump into the dark water and try to swim—even though he had never tried once in his three hundred and twenty-seven winters. However, that plan seemed folly, for he knew monsters often lived in dark places, and especially those hidden under the surface of dark water. So what else could he do? What other choice did he have but to fight?

"Aw, fetter," Buster hissed as he heard the Orcs catching up to him, "Sheeva protect me."

He spun on his heel, skidding backward and almost flipping onto his bum. He turned the shaft over in his hands and swung the hammer, causing it to glow light blue—for it was a magical hammer and one that could cause serious damage to any enemy he struck. It wasn't called Hellsmasher for nothing.

"Come on ye then!" he muttered as the pair of burly Orcs came into sight.