As Deacon continued falling past the layers of rock around him, he thought on the last ten minutes or so that brought him to this circumstance. Jared managed to get the giants attention and ran in the direction of the Shattered Sky. The whole time the giant gave chase it was attempting to crush Deacon like a python. It got tight enough that he could barely suck in a breath. For a Deep Dweller, his speed was impressive. Jared managed to trick the giant by crossing into the magically warded trap field that led to the cliffs entrance to the Jinkbon district.

As the giant stepped over the boundary line, there were eruptions of fire columns and the launching of earth spikes from swirling circles of green mystical energy. The Mastodon ended up stumbling through most of it largely unaffected just based on its sheer size. It took a tentative step back before turning its body around in an attempt to flee. That’s when it crossed the extra large pit trap it dangled in now.

This all flashed in Deacon’s memory as he continued to freefall. He was past the colossus’s knees now and the stone boundaries on either side of him has ended. This just opened into the cavern below him. He could now see the fires of the fort at the Monument to the Fallen. It was easily half a mile away from the point he was going to slam into the ground, breaking his neck, before shoving his asshole through his face. Subsequently, increasing the tax paid to Bael even more. Deacon hoped it would happen faster because the irritating prickle coming from his back was driving him mad.

The further he fell the more details he could make out below him. From up here, it looked like two opposing forces of ants were grouping around a long section of stone. One group to a side. The section of stone was the length and width of the ground that dropped out from under the Mastodon. Oddly shaped like a rectangle and enough to split ground of the cavern almost in half.

“Great, I’ll have an audience when my head bounce up through my ass,” complained Deacon, as he frantically tried to scratch the center of his back between the shoulder blades.

New Racial Ability Unlocked: Astral Glide- You can now extend your soul energy into the shape of translucent green dragon’s wings. This six-foot wingspan allows you to glide to the ground from any height. While not true flight, these wings represent a connection to your bloodline. This is only possible because of your unique race/class combination. This ability costs fifty soul energy to activate and lasts until your feet touch solid ground.

“Fuck you, Fates! I know you are making an astroglide joke. It’s still a cool power and I’m going to use it but fuck you!” screamed Deacon as he triggered his new racial ability.

Glowing green wings that didn’t look like they were fully in this reality sprouted from Deacon’s upper back. They flared out, changing the direction Deacon was falling in. He began to drift off to the left as the ground stopped racing up to meet him. That’s when he caught site of a broken war golem clinging to the legs of what looked like a really pissed off cyclops. The cyclops kept bashing down on the metal head of the construct trying to kill it. Deacon knew right away that was Alfred. If he had to animate that thing, then the situation had become dire.

To Deacon’s right were armor clad warriors flying the flag of House Smitehammer. The flaming hammer and pair of tongs iconography was unmistakable. On his left was a host of the Deep Caverns worst. Several hundred Goblins with Orc commanders garbed in all black armor. They carried their own symbol of Orc tusks on a black background. Deacon was coming in for a landing right in the middle of the conflict. As his feet touched down on the slab of rock that fell from the ceiling, Deacon stutter stepped to halt his momentum.

“Deacon! Is that you up there?” yelled Ralph from over the lip of the slab.

“Yea, it’s me,” replied Deacon as he stared out over the gathered horde.

“You can fly now?” asked Ralph.

“No, not exactly. You see, Typhus cursed me before I left to run into—” Deacon was interrupted by a storm of crossbow bolts coming from some Goblin flyers. He let the bolts phase through him cursing himself for not using his Phantom Shield ability again. The more he thought about it the less cost effective it was. The ability charged her per deflection. In a battle like this it would be prohibitively expensive. He was better off with the no cost intangibility. Shaking off these errant thoughts he stepped forward to peer over the slab at the opposing force.

The Goblins began running toward the slab confident that nothing else was falling from the ceiling. They pulled out ropes attached to hooks. In tight team formations they began tossing the hooks up and onto the slab. It wasn’t that far down from Deacon’s perspective, but the Goblins weren’t very tall, and a ten foot wall became an obstacle. To Deacon’s left near the wall of the cavern, Alfred was wrestling with the Cyclops on the ground. The two figures were large enough that rolling around crushed scores of Goblin troopers that were trying to go around the slab. They made for a makeshift environmental hazard.

Deacon knew what he had to do. Helping Alfred out was first on his list. He was sure the troops with Ralph would be enough to crush even well organized Goblins. That didn’t mean he shouldn’t give them all the possible advantages he could. Deacon was barraged by more Goblin crossbow bolts, some of which were redirected into his bag. The others that landed around him and didn’t break were scooped up by Polterheist and flung down at foes climbing the new stone barricade. All the while Deacon was drawing in an impossibly long breath.

Geen fog blanketed the area just in front of Deacon in a twenty-four yard cone. Surprisingly, several of the black guard Goblins resisted the effects of Phantasmal Breath. The others were not so lucky. Souls were ripped from bodies and swam along the green mist up and into Deacon’s mouth. He even managed to tilt the cloud back up and catch two rows of the flyers. His soul energy bar was flashing, filled to the brim.

“Deacon! Party up with us and everyone back at the fort. We have wounded that need the regen you provide. Let us manage the soldiers,” ordered Ralph as he stood up from climbing the stone.

That’s when chants started coming from the goblins. The two men looked at each then out over the battlefield. Whatever argument Deacon was about to give Ralph died off as the chants got louder and louder.

“Soul Eater! Soul Eater! Soul Eater!”

“Yea, that’s not creepy,” commented Ralph as he slashed down at another climbing Goblin.

“I’m going to do what you suggested. I think I’ve garnered too much attention,” said Deacon as he helped more troops climb up onto the slab.

Once he was done helping the front lines up onto the new elevated battlefield, Deacon used Spectral Jump to cover great distances. He added everyone he could see to his party; this offered them a five percent healing over time effect. Those who were slowly dying from their injuries but not eaten by the enemy began to struggle back up to their feet. Eventually Deacon jumped over the walls of the fort to find Typhus directing traffic. Supplies were finally flowing in from the city.

“Typhus, I’m here. Where do you need me?” asked Deacon.

“Was it you that dropped half the cavern roof on the battlefield? Who am I kidding? Of course, it was you. Ten hells, do you have good timing. Things were deteriorating before you and Ralph showed up. No move that to the back of the fort, it’ll just be in the way. Sorry, some civilians from the docks came to assist after the regional notification hit. We need to get that cyclops off Alfred. Alfred was out there this whole time with no relief. I dare say he’s the hero of this battle, but no one can ever know where he came from. Understood?” asked Typhus not expecting a reply.

“I think I might have something up my sleeve that could help. Smitehammers are out there making a mess. They might just be the answer to a platoon of back guard Orcs,” commented Deacon as he turned toward the second war golem.

The second war golem wielded a long polearm that ended in a sharp blade. The head was modeled after Deep Dweller features. It had overly detailed etchings making up the beard, but the head was capped up like a helm. The metal wasn’t shiny anymore, but Deacon knew the internals had been repaired when he hit with Felix’s Hammer of Repair. He placed his hands on the cold surface but before he triggered Ghost in the Machine, Typhus called out to him.

“There is an altar in the back of the cavern. If you can smash that we can end this quickly. What’s your plan?” asked Typhus.

“I’m going to start the rumbling,” said Deacon before his form glowed green and eyes of the war golem began glowing with an eerie green light.