Grenthille or Grenthille to others. It was a large village of around 50 to 60 families built around the hills beside the River Aren. The flat valleys around the hills serve as fertile grounds for various vegetables and root crops. The nearby river was home to a large population of cod and bass that were unique to the River Aren. But Grenthill's fame came not from these two products.
The hillside served as great places for vineyards and breweries. The grapes grown in that place was richer and sweeter than most other places in the Aren Valley. They were also just a stone's throw away from villages that grew wheat, oats, and barley. The hills, once hollowed out properly, served as excellent places to store and ferment the alcohol the people of Grenthill brewed.
And Stefan stood in the middle of that vibrant and lively village. The air was thick with the scent of strong alcohol and he could see that the large village was filled with many liquor stores and various taverns. Druven and Alric smiled and waved as the three of them passed through the village center. They were heading towards a rather large building that had a nice view of the entire village. It had a large sign outside of it and Stefan read it silently as they stopped right in front of it.
"The Drunken Dwarf. Is this it?"
"Yes. And-"
The doors burst open with a loud bang as a bulky but stout man walked out with a drunk and unconscious man. He threw out the man on the streets as heads turned towards him.
"Keep yer prick in your damn pants!"
The man spat at the unconscious man on the ground before he finally noticed Druven.
"Ah. Druven..."
"What happened? Sexual harassment?"
The man sighed and let out a grunt.
"Started harassing the girls when he got shit faced. Is that Alric with you?"
"Hello, Nuien. Want me to file a report on this person?"
"No, no. It's fine. The local guards will take care of this one. You can leave your horses at the back. "
He gestured for them to come in as he held the door open. Her let out a sigh as he greeted his smiling brother.
"Welcome to the Drunken Dwarf. Mind your step and mind your manners."
Stefan scratched the back of his head while he stared down into the cart. Semilia snored in her sleep while she scratched her belly. Under her back is Riel, who huffed and struggled against the heavy weight of the Elf on top of her. Around them are empty wrappers of food that was supposed to be the two guard's rations for half a day. He kicked the wheel of the cart loudly, but it barely fazed the two of them.
"Hey. Get up."
"Nooo~ Five more minutes..."
Semilia muttered out in a half-asleep voice as she rolled over Riel's face. The mage shifted uncomfortably in her sleep as Semilia blocked the airflow to her face.
"I said... Get up!"
Stefan flicked Semilia's forehead and it let out a crisp sound as Semilia immediately shot up from her sleep. She clutched her forehead while Stefan gently nudged Riel awake.
"W-W-What did you do that for?! W-Where the hell are we? W-What-"
"You fucking- We're having lunch! Don't fucking tell me to wake you up in five minutes! I would've left you here in the stables if it wasn't for Riel! Cough up the bag! I'm paying for those two after you ate their food."
"S-Shut up! You could've woken me up like Riel! Why the hell did you flick my forehead?! Ow, ow, ow, ow! I-I think it's red and swollen now!"
"You're overreacting! Get out of the cart!"
"Morning. You two having a fight again?"
Riel rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes while she slowly sat up in the cart.
"Semila's being a pain in the ass again."
"Well, she's never really been a morning person."
The mage let out a yawn as she climbed out of the cart with a groggy expression. Semilia followed after her and scowled at Stefan as she flattened out the creases in her clothing.
"Are we in the city already? This doesn't look like Arenhein."
"No, we're in Grenthill. We should get some lunch first before spending the rest of our day in the guild. They're probably gonna grill us about what happened back in the dungeon."
"Ah. Right... The dungeon... Will we have to tell them about everything that happened in there?"
Riel looked worried as Stefan took off his cloak. He handed it to Riel to cover herself up before he gave his answer with a serious look in his eyes.
"We'll... We'll have to hide some parts of it. Okay?"
His hand patted Riel's shoulder while she wrapped his cloak around her small shoulders. Then he straightened out the pointy hat that she wore as it sat on an awkward angle on her head.
"Wooow... You're being so nice to Riel but you won't hesitate to use force on me when you get mad. What a nice Human you are."
"Shut up, Sem! Riel's a nice girl compared to you! I can't believe you're an Elf... Aren't Elves supposed to be famed for their grace and beauty?! Where the hell did that go while you slept?! You look more like a bum than a sleeping maiden when you were sleeping in that cart!"
"Suck on a mushroom! You're just jealous 'cause you had to walk all the way to here while I rode on the cart! And why the hell are ya' taking out your frustrations on me?!"
Semilia stomped on the hard earth while she pouted at Stefan. He finally had enough of this conversation and let out a heavy sigh.
"Just shut up and follow me. The guards are waiting for us inside the tavern. Semilia, don't make a scene inside."
"I'm- Why the hell are you always- Argh! Fine! I wasn't even planning on doing anything!"
Stefan just sighed as the two girls followed after him. Riel followed closely after him while Semilia kicked some small stones while she mumbled about something.
Cobbled paths felt pretty nice to walk on compared to the sometimes muddy and uneven paths on the mountain. Stefan also noted how the other houses in the village looked like Halfling architecture but with houses on top of the hill. The Drunken Dwarf isn't built on top of a hill like most houses, but it was still an impressive building compared to those around it. With five floors and such a large size, Stefan wondered just how rich Druven's brother is if he could maintain such a place.
Stefan pushed open the large wooden door at the front and a bell rang with a nice tune. The soft ring of the bell signaled their entry and a young barmaid greeted them immediately as they entered. Her blonde hair looked like the petals of a sunflower and her amber eyes locked onto Stefan as he walked into the tavern. But what caught their attention was her pointy ears and long eyebrows.
"Welcome to the Drunken Dwarf! Are you eating here or do you wish to book a room for the night?"
Her voice brimmed with confidence and she matched it with a warm smile that made Stefan blush. It was a deadly combination that ensnared most of the patrons in the tavern to have lunch in the Drunken Dwarf.
"Oh. It's a High-Elf."
Semilia and the High-Elf locked eyes with each other at the sound of her words.
"Ah... H-Hello there. I-Is this person traveling-"
"Oh! There you are! We've saved you a seat!"
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Stefan ignored the High-Elf's sigh of relief as they turned their heads towards a large table near the bar. Druven and Alric sat with Nuien as a barmaid filled their mugs with drink.
The High-Elf immediately ushered the three of them towards the table. She walked on Stefan's right, opposite of Semilia and her uneasy stare. The three of them sat close to one another as the Elf barmaid disappeared into the doors near the bar. Semilia let out a sigh of relief that everyone at the table noticed. Nuien and Druven in particular, their eyes glancing back and forth from the kitchen doors and to Semilia.
"Ah. Right, right... Sylvia's a High-Elf and that adventurer's a Low-Elf. Must've been unpleasant for the both of you."
"Agreed. The air between the two of ya' is as thick as the muscle on my arm. Thought I'd have to break up a tavern fight between two Elves."
The two Half-Dwarves nodded while a Human barmaid placed mugs in front of them.
"I'll have the same drink as the three of them and an order of fish and chips. Oh, and milk for the young girl beside me. No alcohol for her."
"M-Milk?! I-I'm old enough to drink already!"
"Shut it. You're still 14 and I won't let you drink until you're 16. She'll also have a kid's meal if you serve it."
"No kids meal! Anything but a kid's meal! Fish and fries as well! I-I'll have that!"
"I'll have some mead instead. Water it down a bit, please. Do you also serve salads? You do? Great, I'll have some."
"Oh, then I'll have some salad as well along with the soup and cod I ordered."
Alric smiled at the barmaid as she jutted down the orders while Riel sulked beside Stefan. Semilia let out a sigh as she looked at Nuien.
"So? Where did you find a High-Elf this far east of Aur'threa?"
"Sylvia? She wandered through these parts pretty beaten up after escaping slavers down south. Apparently, she came here from Daegon's Coast after getting captured in Alfheim. Offered her a job after she stayed here for a few months. Best barmaid I've- Ouch! Fine! One of the best barmaids I have!"
Nuien rubbed the top of his head after one of the barmaids smacked him with an empty pitcher. She stuck out a tongue at him before walking over to the bar to get a refill.
"I'm still surprised that you haven't bedded any of the girls in your tavern. You seem close to all of them."
"Fool! These girls are like my daughters. A-Anyway, Sylvia's one of the older barmaids here and I usually put her in charge of this place when I'm not around."
"Alfheim, huh? She's a long way from home. And she came from the south too, so those traders probably passed by Lir'ze to do who knows what."
Semilia sighed as she shook her head as she wrapped her head around the thought of going on such a voyage.
"Isn't Alfheim the home continent of the Elves and Dwarves?"
"High-Elves, Stefan. No Low-Elves live there and the Dwarf Kingdoms there are in the southernmost part of the continent."
Nuien nodded at Semilia and Druven spoke up with a pleased voice.
"Hoh! Lass knows her places well, I see! She's correct about the Dwarf part. Dwarves used to call it home but after our ancestors lost the war with the Elves, we had to flee to Mirland and settle there. Of course, we don't really care about such pasts but we've had some Dwarf patrons in the past that refused to enter after knowing that a High-Elf worked here."
"Such is the hatred between mortal enemies, I guess. Oh, our salads!"
Alric exclaimed as the same barmaid that hit Nuien brought a tray full of food over to the table. Both Half-Dwarves eyed the steak Nuien ordered.
"Deer? You caught that yourself?"
"This morning when I was out checking my traps in the mountain. I already butchered the animal this morning and I was planning on eating it for dinner. But after you suddenly showed up, I thought it would be a good way to show off."
"Well, you did a good job then. Been a while since I ate deer. But I'm dying for that smoked lamb of yours! Where is it?"
"It will be out shortly. They're probably taking out of the smokehouse as we speak. Anyways, you folks are adventurers, right?"
Semilia and Riel glanced away and left Stefan to answer the question. He shot a look at Semilia, who avoided it by eating the salad in front of her.
"Y-Yes. We're adventurers. I'm Stefan, this group's leader. The young girl is Riel, our Mage and the rude Low-Elf beside me is Semilia. She's only good for disarming traps- Ouch!"
She dug her shoulder deep into his side as she glared at him.
"This idiot's just saying that to piss me off. I'm this party's Arche- Gah! My foot!"
Semilia kicked Stefan under the table after he stepped on her foot. She was about to punch him square on the face when Nuien let out a soft laugh at them. It made the other guests around them look at the source of the deep laughter while Nuien immediately stifled it with his hand.
"S-Sorry... It's just that you reminded us of how Druven and I used to act in our youth. Apologies."
Semilia let out a sigh and calmed down a bit. She still had her hands clenched into a fist though in case Stefan tried to pull anything funny again. Stefan himself just glared at her and sighed.
"Y-Yes. We met with Mister Druven and Alric after we got out of..."
"The dungeon. Our party escaped the dungeon."
Riel finished his words with white foam over her upper lip. She had a serious expression despite that, and Nuien's expression changed.
"The dungeon? I thought that place was closed."
"It was. They're part of the expedition that got wiped."
Druven and Alric's expression soured and Nuien looked at the three adventurers before him.
"Gods... You poor souls. It must've been a rough month for the three of you."
"W-Well... Yeah, it was."
Semilia lied and hid the fact that the "month" they spent down there was just two days at most in reality. Stefan nodded his head in affirmation of her lie while Nuien shook his head at them. Riel just drank her milk in silence and ignored them completely.
"I will not ask for details. All I can offer you now is my sincerest sympathies and some drink. Mary! More ale for the gentleman and the lady! And how's the ribs for my brother?"
A barmaid immediately disappeared behind the kitchen doors only to burst through them once more with a large tray over her shoulders. The smell of mouth-watering spices wafted through the air as she brought the large rack of lamb over to their table. Druven let out a loud "Ohhh!" as the girl placed the tray before him.
Stefan stared at the fish and chips placed in front of him. The crisp but light batter made a nice crunch as he cut into it with a knife. The white fish beneath was soft but not too soft, and Stefan found that nice. Riel and Alric didn't really care about such things and instead dug into the food before them.
"Tasty!"
Riel exclaimed as she took another bite of the cod. She squealed softly as she chewed the delicious mouthful of fish.
Stefan watched as the girl beside him ate happily. He took a bite of the cod as well and gound it delightfully refreshing with a squeeze of lemon. He nodded in content as he swallowed his first bite before he took another bite of the dish. It was a delicious meal indeed, and he felt a bit happy as he continued to take more bites out of it.
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The mushroom in his mouth tasted like dirt. He quickly spat it out and washed out the taste with water. It was a miserable meal in a miserable place. The Goblin sighed as he threw the bag filled with the remaining half of Arachnea's treasure into his room. Gold flew everywhere as the bag landed on a large pile near one of the shelves. He didn't seem to like this place anymore, and he probably knew why.
A heavy sigh left his lips as he leaned back against his chair. The dungeon was awfully quiet, but it didn't matter to him. Something else clawed at the back of his mind he sat on his chair in silence. There was something happening in the dungeon and the walls of its dungeon echoed it loudly.
Walls and corridors have begun to shift in the darkness and he could feel it all around him. There were other things as well, like the horrors that now climbed upwards through the dungeon or the monsters that began to push deeper into the darkness. But what terrified him the most is the song that pulled at the back of his mind.
Ancient. That was the only way to describe it. A song that called out to him, to Arachnea, to all monsters. He didn't know what it meant or what made it, but it felt wrong to him. The dungeon itself seems to recoil at the sound of it, yet he could tell that it is affecting it greatly.
In fact, the runes on his door looked weaker now, and the walls outside felt different as well. It felt smaller, weaker, and it felt just like regular stone. The crystals that lit up his room have also dimmed, and the mushrooms by the fountain looked a bit wilted. All those things meant trouble, and he didn't like trouble.
Something was definitely off and it wasn't just the dungeon. The Goblin nodded at his own thoughts as continued to sit in silence. He has lived in this dungeon since he was five years old and he is twelve now. A young adult in Goblin culture and a perfect target for adventurers. In all his years of living here, this was the first time he has seen something like this happen.
It was dying. The dungeon, his home, was dying slowly. He didn't know why it's dying, but it is definitely dying. The mana in the surroundings is slowly being sucked away as the dungeon grows more and more empty. He could also feel the tremors under his feet as small sections of the dungeon are beginning to cave in on itself. He let out a groan as he saw one of the crystals in his room flicker one last time before finally going out. That was it, that was the final straw! He had been putting this off for months, but after half of the room went dark, he finally knew now was the time.
He was definitely moving now.
The chair he built by himself creaked as he stood up reluctantly. There were many empty Bags of Holding around him and most of them came from dead adventurers. He knew he could fit all of the treasure in this room in those bags, but the problem is transporting them to somewhere else. His yellow eyes looked around the room for that thing he made a while back when he first lived on the upper floors.
There! In the corner sat a gold chest once filled with jewels. Its bottom was modified with crude bolts and steel axles. To be honest, it looked more of a wagon with a cover than a chest, but he still called it a chest since he built it from a chest. It was his moving chest that could hold all of his Bags of Holding. He pulled it out and wiped away the dust with his hand. Its crude wheels still moved nicely, and he gave it a good kick on its side to see if it held. Thankfully, it did and that pleased the Goblin very much.
And so, the lonely Goblin began to clean his room. And as he angrily tossed treasure after treasure into the many bags he had, there was another that moved in the deepest room of the dungeon.
His withered hands clutched the white staff in front of him as his many familiars and guardians moved across the dungeon. The magic that has been protecting him for centuries have begun to fade as the song grows even more powerful. The dungeon he built can no longer protect him from the malignant stain that sings the Song of the Gods' Twilight.
The shadows of the dungeon ae nothing compared to the eternal night that followed him. And that terrified him. It terrified him, Ereldru'ash the Wizard of Black, that something could bring such horror into the world. He paused for a moment, then with a sound that didn't sound like anything a living person should make, shook his head slowly.
He corrected himself as his thin and elongated fingers scratched the gaunt and tightly wrapped skin over his skeletal face. He was no longer a Wizard after he died centuries ago. He was something else now. Something no longer living. Something more... vile.
He was a Lich. An Elder Lich to be exact.
And he sat alone in his vast chamber. Its walls covered with pulsating masses of black material that oozed out a black liquid that changed the stone beneath it. Beyond the doors to his chamber stood his small army, and they sat in silence as the magical circle behind him slowly pulsed with his magic.