His sword arm was numb, every movement sending lightning bolts of pain through his shoulder, but somehow, it kept moving. As if the limb itself was haunted, a ghost of himself, fighting to the last to protect his friends. Teeth clenched in a rictus grin, Antios swung again. The impact of his sword bouncing off a crude wooden shield, or biting deep into bone, forcing him to yell with every contact. Something was incredibly wrong, his shoulder felt like it was on fire from the inside, displaced, every impact increasing the pain, every swing grinding bone against muscle.

Utig was cleaving through the goblins like they were paper dolls, green body parts strewn around the cavern floor. The barbarian was yelling in rage while the last of the goblins either attacked in a pointless show of courage, or fled the devastation wrought by the double blades of his axe.

Antios’ sword fell limply to his side, the numbness was like a swarm of insects, flooding over his hand and up his arm. Havia was crouched over, he could barely support himself, and yet, his arm was under her shoulder, forcing her to step slowly over towards a nearby pillar of stone. With most of the goblins in this area dead, this cavern was now a relatively safe place in the bizarre network of caves.

They had lost Quink hours ago, although it felt much longer, sending Utig flying into a rage and surging through the goblins like death incarnate. Antios had never seen the normally cheerful warrior in such a prolonged and violent state. All they were able to do was protect his flank from the never-ending stream of goblins that tried to take down the barbarian as he searched for Quink. It was exhausting, the sheer number of goblins that they encountered would have been enough to overwhelm them if not for the bottomless well of strength that Utig had shown. They had cleared the waste pit, a large village of sorts, and a myriad run of tunnels and caverns. Finally reaching the strange ritual chamber they now found themselves in. Havia had taken a dart to the shoulder at some point, a poison taking a deadly toll on her as she tried to slash anything that came near Antios’ side. It had been too much, and they had no antidotes to hand, he had used all the healing potions they carried for emergencies, with no effect. The rogue was now little more than dead weight, staring feverishly at Utig in the centre of the chamber. Antios slumped against the pillar, easing Havia down to sit on the ground, he watched as the barbarian yelled again, a reverberating pain-filled bellow of frustration as he killed the last of the goblins with an offhand throw of a broken spear head. He was glad they were friends, the raw power of Utig, in a fit of rage, was the stuff of nightmares.

And then it was gone, as quickly as the rampage had started. The hulking warrior was collapsing, crying, deep, heart-rending sobs echoed around the cavern as he tenderly cradled the lithe form of Quink. The mage had emerged, miraculously, dirt stained and bloody, from a tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern.

“Havia, stay with us. Quink is here, we’ll get you healed.” Antios said as he tried to push himself from the pillar. To his shock, it took painfully long for his sword arm to respond as he strained against the pain and discomfort, forcing himself away from the cold stone and shaking the arm painfully, to get blood flowing properly to it. Worryingly, he couldn’t release his grip on the sword, the cramped muscles refusing to let go.

“Quink, by the gods, I’m so glad you made it.” He couldn’t hide his relief at the mage’s return, but forced himself to sound casual, almost jovial, as he walked towards the couple. Painfully rotating his shoulder, as he took a few deep breaths through gritted teeth. The two were fixated on each other for a moment before they turned to look at him. Tears streaming down both of their faces as they cradled each other.

“Havia could really use some healing, if you’re up for it?” He gestured back towards the pillar with a nod. Quink smiled, reluctantly letting go of Utig, who was determined not to let go in return.

“I’m not letting you out of my reach!” He muttered, like a small child on their mother’s apron strings, it was a ridiculous sight as they both walked towards the rogue. The demure mage holding hands with the trailing giant of a man as they made their way over to the rogue.

Havia’s eyes were closing slowly, dark rimmed and sunken, her skin was yellowed and glistening with sweat. Antios hadn’t been this worried about her in quite some time.

“That’s definitely poison, I think I have a couple of Healing spells in me before we get a full rest.” Quink wiped her dirty hands on her robes before placing them either side of Havia’s face, muttering an incantation under her breathe.

The colour returned to Havia’s skin almost instantly, but her eyes were still sunken, her gaze still vacant. Quink took a deep breath and tried again, this time the rogues’ eyes fluttered open, a lot more alert than mere seconds before.

“Well, that felt fucking awful.” She sputtered between dried lips. “Did you go off finding trouble all by yourself Quink?” She asked, whilst reaching into her backpack for her water skin.

“Nothing too bad, fell down a hole, killed a few rats, found my way back.” The mage pointed towards the tunnel she had appeared from, a half-smile on her lips.

“let’s not go down that way please.” She added, Utig comforting her, holding her hand in his as he nodded, tears still streaming, unashamedly, down his face. Antios found a new level of admiration for the barbarian, a man who could fight so ferociously for those he loved, and then show his fragility just as passionately.

“Come on, it’s quiet, but I don’t think it will stay this way for long, those green skins will be back soon enough.” Quink turned to give Antios a curious look as he pointed with his sword to a different tunnel exiting the cavern.

“We should head over there; I don’t recall any goblins coming from that direction.” His sword wavered and he lowered the blade quickly, to avoid it shaking in front of the others. The pain danced a fine line between intense burning muscle and cold, aching, joints. He winced slightly as something in his shoulder spasmed.

“Do you need some healing? I think I’ve got enough mana left in me for one more before I’m out.” He must have looked a state, but Antios shook his head.

“No, thanks Quink, save it in case someone really needs it before we can rest.” He forced a smile before heading over to the tunnel, grabbing a crude torch from one of the pillars on the way.

The tunnel was only wide enough for them to travel single file, Utig brought up the rear, walking with a stoop to accommodate the low, slick ceiling. By the time they had reached the first intersection a small group of goblins had started following them. Utig kept them at bay, his axe sparking off the walls as he swung at any green-skin who got too close. Quink cast a basic shield spell behind them, stopping any more poison darts from finding their target as they trekked forward, but it added a constant drain got the already exhausted mage. Antios could hear clearly when the occasional goblin tried to rush forward, they were quickly chopped down by the barbarian, already worn out from the days fighting. If they couldn’t find a way to shake the goblins at the rear, they would be in trouble when Utig’s strength finally gave out. As the tunnel twisted and turned it widened slightly, suspiciously, the goblins began holding back.

“I don’t think they like what lives down here.” Havia mused as they moved forward, the sound of rushing water resonating around them, slowly getting louder. Somewhere ahead was running water, it might mean a dead end, or traveling through whatever waterways they came across. The tunnels were getting damper, a low level of water covering the floor, rounded edges and crevices warned that these tunnels would, at times, be flooded. Antios’s arm was a dead weight, he dreaded the idea of possibly swimming if they had to, he had no idea how he raised it when the first serpent attacked.

At least eight or nine feet long, maybe a foot wide, the serpent darted out from a crevice near the ground. Luckily, it’s fangs glanced off his greaves, or they would have sunk right into his shin. He stomped down on it, trapping the thing beneath his heel, fighting the panic as he thrust his sword down through its head. The long body writhed and coiled around his leg for a moment before collapsing to the ground. They moved slower after that, but the serpents were everywhere.

After what felt like hours of tense serpent killing, but was probably only half an hour, Antios couldn’t feel his shoulder anymore, or his arm, or his fingers. His hand was like a lump of ice, frozen to the hilt of his sword, unfeeling and unrelenting. A dull, constant throb at the base of his neck, a sharp pain in his ribs and the back of his shoulder, these were the only reminders that his right side was still attached. Havia, one hand on the small of his back, kept him moving forward, using her short sword to hack at any of the slithering creatures that Antios failed to stop. It was an exhausting trek, and soon guttural screams echoed back from where they had come from, the goblins having fallen prey to the serpents, soon gave up following. Leaving the party to fend for themselves against the unending stream of serpents darting out from behind rocks, around crumbling pillars, and from fissures in the tunnels ceiling. They rounded a bend, almost doubling back on themselves with the sharp curve of eroded rock. Antios, tired and in pain, was forced back by the sudden roar of water crashing around them. No longer crammed into a slim tunnel, now a large cavern lay ahead, a waterfall, thundering in the darkness at the far end. A river flowed from the base of the fall, cutting the cavern in half, right across their path. The damp air and pressure of the downfall was enough to kill the flame, already sputtering to death, as the torch in Antios’s left hand was drenched in a dampening mist.

They stood, consumed by the darkness for a moment. The overpowering sound of the waterfall devouring them in the black, while their eyes grew accustomed to the light. No one spoke, everyone was breathing hard, exhaustion threatening to overwhelm them, more deadly than any goblin mob.

“Well, I guess were fucked if anything attacks us now” Havia said, eventually breaking the taboo that hovered around them by laughing into the darkness. A weary, rakish bark, it hinted at how worn out they all were.

“Quink, do you think you can cast a light spell?” Antios asked between harsh ragged breaths.

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“I won’t have any mana left for healing if we need it, not even enough for cantrips.” She replied from somewhere on his left.

“Do it, please. No point in you having any healing left if there’s no one alive for you to heal.” He could hear Quink fumbling in her pack for a focus, then muttering as she cast the spell. As the last word left her lips a circle of orbs, radiating a cold-blue light, manifested above their heads. It cast hard shadows on the walls and reflected ominously in the water flowing past them. Everyone was blinking and looking around getting accustomed to the magical radiance. In the distance, up near the waterfall, a loud splash of water signalled that something had taken unkindly to their presence.

“Run, downstream” Antios ordered, letting Utig take the lead as he watched for whatever denizen of the depths had just entered the water.

The others wasted no time entering the, thankfully shallow, waters and wading into the tunnel leading away from the cavern. Antios waited a moment before following them. He had to concentrate so hard on his right hand to let go of his sword, the muscles spasmed and screamed as he swapped the blade into his left hand. His right arm felt all but useless now, hanging limp and numb at his side. He had clearly torn a muscle or something in his shoulder, and fighting through it had done him no favours. Luckily, he did train with his offhand a bit, so hopefully he could hold back whatever large creature had dived into the water, at least long enough to give his friends a chance.

The water rippled around him, blue reflections of Quink’s magical light blinked in and out of existence as the water ebbed and flowed. He focused, walking backwards, following the sound of his friends, watching the way the water cascaded around him in the now diminishing light. There, ahead of him, a V-shaped line of water, occasionally snaking as it made its way forward. It was at least two feet wide, no way for him to gauge how long it was in this light, but two amber pin pricks of light focused on him from beneath the ripples, moments before the huge serpent’s head lunged towards him. Instinctively, he sidestepped, awkwardly through the water and bought his sword down on the nose of the leviathan.

It rolled from the blow, its wet scales shimmering gold in the blue light before it darted back beneath the water and away. Antios took the opportunity to wade faster down the tunnel. Hoping that the creature was protecting its territory, if it saw him moving away, it might back off. He had the worst luck.

The serpent wound itself between his legs, its wide body tripping him over in the water. He toppled backwards, thankfully he had the foresight to bring his sword up to his chest, as the creature coiled around him, attempting to drown the fighter in the dark waters.

Remaining calm was his gift, most of the time, he fought the panic rising inside him and consider what was happening. Above him, through the crisp cold waters, he could see the trail of Quink’s lights, and the arrow shaped head of the beast coiling round to attack him. Allowing time to slow, he considered the options, holding his breath as the coils tightened.

He could slide the blade up cutting into the serpent, hopefully freeing his arms enough to bring another blow down onto the creature. Or he could push against the coils, using up precious strength and possibly breath. He could fake death, let the creature think he had passed out, releasing him to possibly attack the others.

In a heartbeat multiple options flashed before his eyes, and he made his choice, sliding the blade downwards, allowing the weight of the beast to add strength to the cut, gouging into the coils surrounding him, before pushing and sliding the blade up into the body of the snake. As soon as he felt the coils give, he flung his almost useless right arm out, ignoring the searing pain as he grabbed onto the serpent before it could retreat into the safety of the now blood-filled waters. Pushing up with his legs, he gasped for air as he broke free of the water’s surface.

The river came up to his chest, which meant it would be tricky for Quink and maybe even Havia to navigate safely. He knew if he didn’t stop this serpent here, it would take them out, one by one, going for the smallest, easiest prey first.

Feeling for the direction the serpent was moving he began to stab with his sword, moving painfully up the coils as the thing tried to get away. Soon the blue light was a mote in the distance. And the serpent was frantically rolling trying to shake his prey, turned attacker.

It was dizzying, he grasped for breath whenever he could. Roll, breath, stab, roll breath stab. Eventually, the head of the monstrosity was near enough for him to attack. But it had the same idea and was much faster. Diving for his midsection, plunging its fangs deep into his chest, he felt a rib break, and the air leave his lungs. Screaming, he bought his sword round, finding the golden-slit eye of the serpent and plunged the blade deep into its skull. It writhed and thrashed as he buried his blade deep, turning it viciously, something cracked, the sound of bones snapping, or metal, and the cold of the water took them both, floating into the dark.

A blinding white light brought him back to consciousness, he felt feverish and in incredible pain, but he wasn’t dead. At least he thought he wasn’t dead.

“Am I dead?” Antios asked, staring up at an immaculate, white marble ceiling.

“Am I dead? Is this the heavens?”

Everything ached, his shoulder, his ribs, his side. Turning his head was incredibly painful.

As he did so Quink appeared at his side, water skin in hand, and eased him back down to the ground.

“No, not quite, but it was touch and go for a while there.” She placed the top of the skin to his lips, squeezing a small stream of ice-cold water into his mouth. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was, taking several deep gulps before raising his hand and easing himself up slightly to look around.

They were camped in a wide, straight, corridor, immaculately cut marble adorned the walls, polished, reflecting the warmth of a small fire not too far away. Utig sat against one side of the corridor looking away into the darkness. Upon hearing Antios trying to get up he stood and walked over to the fallen fighter, kneeling to get a better look.

“Did you see the size of that thing you took down? It was fucking huge, and you got right up into its skull.” He placed something next to Antios’s head, it looked like the hilt of his sword.

“Your blade sheared off in its skull, I couldn’t find it, but I found the hilt for you. And got you these.” The barbarian grinned wide as he held aloft a pair of massive fangs, long as his hand and thicker than his thumb.

“You were so lucky Antios, a fingers width over and he would have pierced more than a lung.” Utig tentatively patted him on the shoulder before returning to his post in the corridor.

Behind where Antios lay, further up the corridor, he heard Havia, cursing in frustration.

“Fuck, I give up, locks, traps, even bloody archery, anything but word puzzles.” She stormed over to stand next to Quink, looking down on Antios as he smiled back up at them.

“You know, I feel like I’m in my grave already, with you two stood above me. What’s got your breeches bunched?” He forced a smile, ignoring how much his head throbbed. Havia’s frustration eased slightly, and she half smiled back.

“Better to show you.” Havia knelt to help him up but upon seeing him wince at the slightest movement turned to the mage. “Will he be ok to stand?” She asked of Quink, who nodded before walking towards Utig.

“Not too long though, both of you need to see a proper healer as soon as you can. I’m not confident all that poison is out of your system. And him, well his shoulder is a mess, and a minor healing can only go so far with that lung.” She slumped down next to the barbarian, letting her robes gather beneath her as she leant against the large fighter’s shoulder. She looked worn, tired out like all of them.

Havia eased Antios, painfully, into a sitting position before they tried to get him to his feet.

“For someone who’s slept about sixteen hours, you sure seem to want to stay in bed.” She joked as he slowly got to one knee. The pain was excruciating, but he clenched his teeth, fought through it enough that by the time he gave up on standing, he was leant against the far wall, the cold marble taking the edge off the fever he could feel creeping back in.

After a minute of black spots in his vision, he could see the opposite end of the corridor, away from the fire, and a large set of marble doors, intricate scroll work adorning their edges. Havia stepped closer, laying a hand on the seam that divided the massive slabs of marble. In the centre of the left-hand door text was engraved, from where he sat it was faint scrawling, Havia was tracing the grooves with her fingers.

“It’s elven, for the most part, bit of Dwarven thrown in, the usual sanctimonious crap, brave warriors this, wise sage that, but there’s a couple of lines that stand out.” She traced her hand along the scrollwork before stopping and reading out loud.

“Utter thee a name for home, to open up this sacred stone. A place of rest, a way to roam, all bequeathed by the name of home.’

She turned and shrugged, wincing as she did so. Then made her way back to Antios and sat down.

“I’ve tried the word home in Dwarven, High Elven, Common, Low Elven and even Gnomish, with no luck. Quink there tried Abyssal, Divine and dragon, though gods know how she can read dragon.” She thrust her chin at the mage, who waved back, her eyes drifting closed as Utig placed a protective arm around her.

Antios felt a strange tugging at the back of his mind, something about how this dungeon had been so far, how it wasn’t populated or organised like a standard dungeon. As his thoughts floated in the haze of pain and discomfort an idea started forming.

“I think I’m starting to figure something out.” He turned, wincing at the discomfort as he looked at Havia, then over at the two on the opposite side of the fire.

“So, this is meant to be Meridath’s dungeon, the first, right?” Havia nodded as Antios warmed to the idea forming in his head.

“But no one had made dungeons before, and this one, well, to say it’s odd, and doesn’t work is an understatement. The first floor had way too many traps, yeah.” He smiled as Havia nodded.

“Way too fucking many.” She agreed.

“Well, the second floor was basically a spider’s nest, but the rest of it was empty, like they hadn’t worked out where or what to put in the rest of the floor.

And the stairs that went down for ever, maybe they didn’t, but were just stupidly deep stairs, that no one in their right mind would put in a dungeon?”

“Wait, what are you saying?” Utig asked from the other side of the corridor, smoke wafting up lazily towards the marbled ceiling.

“Didn’t the note on the first floor say it was the first floor?” he looked tired and confused.

“Yes, it’s the first dungeon, but whoever made it, was testing designs, seeing what worked, I don’t think anyone was ever meant to come in here. Its unbalanced, has a bad layout, and just isn’t working.”

He waved off down the corridor, cursing under his breath as the movement sent a spike of pain through his ribs.

“Look at those goblins, that wasn’t a nest, like you usually find in dungeons, it’s like they had built a settlement here, a community, not expecting any adventurers. Never getting attacked, I mean, we’re good, but we waded through those goblins like they had never fought an adventuring party before. Ever.”

He looked up at the door, a wry smile on his face, despite the pain he pushed himself against the wall and slid to his feet.

Slowly shambling over to the massive slabs of marble that stood between them and possible safety.

“This isn’t Meridath’s first proper dungeon, it’s his prototype, a test, and we already got a glimpse of the clue to this door. The mural on the second floor, Havia, you said it looked like a town where Meridath was rumoured to have lived.”

He turned back to the doors before leaning in close and speaking the name that had been floating around in his head.

“Chelis.”

The name of the small border town left his lips, he thought back to the mural, the simple design, a clear reflection of the town as it used to be, back when Meridath fought the chaos gods, making it impossible to deny it was the same place.

A resounding crack reverberated around the corridor, the seam between the doors widened releasing a golden light that shone blindingly through, filling the corridor in warmth. Antios could hear Utig and Quink getting up, the barbarian nosily picking up all their packs as they moved to stand next to the fighter.

Antios grinned at them as he heard Havia swearing behind him.

“You know, I’d have figured it out eventually you smug bastard,” she said, putting his arm over her shoulder before walking awkwardly into the golden radiance.