Nulrok leaned on his staff. He wore a dark hooded robe with silver runes etched along the edges. The mage was standing before three graves. The middle grave had a wooden shield on it. Zaploc, the one-eyed goblin warrior, was kneeling before this grave. A tear ran down his single eye.

“He led us well,” Nulrok said and squeezed the older goblin’s shoulder.

“Aye, I bet he did. Funny though. I figured he would at least live longer than me.”

The next grave was covered with several weapons and armor. It had a dwarven helm and a short spear, and in the middle was a long polearm with rings set on the back of its wide blade. Standing solemnly around this grave were three large and heavily armored orcs. They stood with their tusked heads bowed.

“These other weapons, did they belong to his slain enemies?” One of the orcs asked. This one had grey skin and shoulder-length red hair.

“Yes, I was told that it was your custom to place the weapons of their enemies as a sign of respect,” Nulrok answered.

“Did he defeat them?” Asked the Orc.

“He did, and sadly, he died afterward due to his injuries.”

“A glorious death,” the orcs said as one.

“He would say that he had a good run,” Nulrok added, he nearly choked with sadness.

The third grave had a scimitar and a buckler resting on it. The couple standing before it was a pair of contrasts. An onyx-skinned elf wearing white robes and a pale-skinned man wearing robes the color of night.

“He had a good heart, though he did not always show it,” Annya said, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Aye, he saved my life. In the end, he was a good friend to us,” Nulrok replied.

“That brings me joy to hear.”

The necromancer, Chalal Von Issen, nodded once to the goblin mage and gently escorted Annya away. The orcs also departed.

“I suppose we best head in as well,” Zaploc said. Nulrok nodded, and the two walked on the dirt and rock ground toward a wide entrance. They went into the Dungeon.

“In all my years of service to the Dreaded One, I never once set foot in here,” Zaploc said. The old goblin marveled at the dark stone surfaces.

“We are making many changes, my old friend. Changes that I hope will be for the better for us all,” Nulrok replied.

The mage led them through the massive entrance chamber. It was once a war zone, and now it was empty and grand. The bodies and stains of war were cleaned away. After the battle, Raine had found a library. In it were books and knowledge on how to operate the Dungeon. Using this knowledge, they could clean up the many corridors and discover more of its secrets. Bob, reluctant at first, soon became an invaluable guide and assisted them. They discovered that the staff Nulrok had was able to control the portals. They used them to transport the Dark Elves, Goblins, Orcs, and even the Dragonspawn for a meeting. A meeting on the future of the Wasteland.

Nulrok guided the others through the passageways that led them to the Dreaded One’s chamber. In the end, lounging on the throne was Shaymus. She was flanked by Bob and Raine. Bob had his wings wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. Raine was dressed in her armor. Her sword was strapped to her hip, and her bow and quiver were slung over her shoulders.

“So Shaymus is now in charge?” Zaploc asked.

“She just likes to sit on the throne,” Nulrok replied with a chuckle.

Even with representatives from all the areas of the Wasteland and the Dungeon, the large chamber still appeared to be empty with lots of open spaces. Moving to stand before the raised diaz was Priestess, along with a few Dragonspawn. Zaploc walked over to take his place with the chieftain and the Shaman Shimlock. Annya and Chalal came together to represent the Dark Forest and the Old Cemetery. The red-haired orc, who called himself Gorak the Warlord, came with others to represent the Ruined City. Red Fang and Goloab’s replacements were among the small crowd to represent the Caizene and Scorazon demons. There were minotaurs, other goblins, and orc tribes. Even an ogre or two.

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Raine elbowed Shaymus, and the pale-eyed goblin sat up on the throne. Bob cleared his throat loudly. On the third time, Shaymus snarled at him.

“I believe you are to speak,” Bob said and motioned with his head toward the crowd.

Shaymus’s pale eyes looked on, and her lips quivered. Was she nervous? Nulrok wondered. Shaymus shifted her eyes throughout the crowd that was amassed before her. She remained silent. To her right, Raine took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Greetings, denizens of the Wasteland and of the Dungeon. I am Raine, daughter to the Chieftain of the Mudrock Clan. As you all may have learned, the Dreaded One was defeated by Adventurers, and that our lives are forever changed. We bring you all here today to speak about that change. For the past months, I have traveled with Boogerashikti, the honorable orc prince of the Bloodfist Clan. I fought alongside Tassarion of the Dark Forest. I worked with Priestess of the Scorched Plains. As you all can see, I am a goblin of the Mudrock Clan. We do not need to operate in our separate areas of the Wasteland, but we can and should work together!”

This elicited small applause from the crowd that showed some agreement. But many were whispering and talking amongst themselves. It was the sounds of doubt and of questioning.

“I had a friend that I lost. A good friend,” Shaymus began. The demon-touched goblin rose to her feet. Her voice was louder than she thought possible. She continued, “This friend was brave, an orc prince. Can you believe that? I used to hate orcs. But we fought many battles together, and he became my family. He was a true warrior. But he asked, why do we continue fighting this way? Here in this Dungeon is knowledge. There is magic. We can fix this land. We can make a home. A real home. I am Shaymus of the Mudrock Clan. Demon touched. The Chosen One. In my clan, we have a Board of the Fallen, where we list the names of our warriors that have died to adventurers. To invaders. Is there not such a board in each one of your villages?”

Many in the crowd nodded in understanding. Some tears were shed in memory of lost loved ones. Raine spoke next. She said, “Starting from this day forward, the Dungeon will be opened to all. The secrets and knowledge will be shared among all the tribes and races of the Wasteland. We will ask for representatives to come and meet here. All will share in the decision-making. There is knowledge in these walls that will help us restore these broken lands. Make them fertile. The Gods have told lies to the High Races. Trapped them in unfair deals and bargains. We will let them know that they can reject the false ways. They can free themselves with the Chalice.”

This elicited more animated discussions and mutterings. Many supported Raine’s ideas, and others rejected them. The detractors were concerned about their safety. Nulrok, being amongst the crowd, better understood their concerns. The mage stepped up to the raised diaz. He tapped his staff to the hard floor and got everyone’s attention.

“What Raine shared was our vision. Our goal. But we have matters that we must attend to first. We must find and clear the adventurer encampments. We must strengthen our defenses because once we go down this path, we will invite the wrath of the gods. We will invite war, and we must be prepared. We will be prepared,” Nulrok stated.

This elicited louder applause. Chalal and Annya nodded in approval to their student in the magical arts. The three goblins have completed their first task successfully.

The goblin walked down the paved stone stairs. He remembered when it was a rock-strewn path. The view he was afforded was of a sprawling city lit with magical lights. Above him was the night sky, speckled with stars. He walked with a plain dark staff, contrasting with the rich robes he wore. Expensive and magically powerful rings adorned his fingers. Around his neck was a red jewel attached to a gold chain. In a particular light, one might think that the jewel was pulsating. They would be right, for it was the heart of a high demon.

The goblin got off the stairs to a simple platform. One that he could recall when it was just rocks and dirt. Now, it was paved with cut stones. A well-maintained garden encircled five ornate tombstones. Space for a sixth remained empty.

“Hello, friends,” Nulrok said, and he sat on a stone bench that was between two rose bushes.

He remained thin, and his body was strong, though now his pale grey skin was more wrinkled. His pupilless dark eyes looked upon the five tombstones. His companions, His friends, his family. He sighed deeply.

“Excuse me, Magus?” A young human woman asked as they climbed the stairs.

Even at this hour, many people climbed the stone steps to and from what was once a demon-filled Dungeon. Now a university and a place for learning. A place for knowledge and progress. Probably its original purpose, before the demons.

“Yes, child,” Nulrok responded.

“I see you coming here almost every night after our class, and I wondered if they were your family?” The young student asked.

Nulrok chuckled and answered, “Yes, they were my family. Though not by blood but by a common cause. A common purpose.”

“I don’t understand.”

“This,” Nulrok began and waved around him, “the university, the city. All of this was not here when my friends and I first came here. We lived in a time of strife and of hardship. We adventured together. We fought in wars. We laughed, we cried. Most importantly, we persevered together. We developed a vision together, and we saw it to fruition. Many of them paid the price with their lives, and those that survived honored their memories by not giving up hope.”

“Is that why you visit with them every night? To remember?”

“Yes, and because they are my good friends. I am getting old, and someday I will be with them again.”

“Can I sit with you?”

“Of course,” Nulrok answered and made space for his student to sit on the bench.

“Can you tell me about them?”

Nulrok grinned and took a deep breath.

“You see, this all started with a Golden Chalice….”