"Oh, for crying out loud! Whatever you do, don't move a muscle."

"Why?"

"Because as long as we don't move, the Dungeon won't start. And if the Dungeon doesn't start, you get to live a little while longer."

Lowe thought Latham was laying it on a little thick. As far as he could tell, the only thing that had stopped the big man from instantly finishing the Dungeons they had breezed through thus far were the laws of physics. The literally could not have moved any faster.

Latham, though, carried on cursing a blue streak under his breath—and over it—while Lowe tried to orient himself to the new setting.

They appeared to be in the middle of a forest clearing, sitting near a blazing campfire with five or six NPCs alongside them. The fire was frozen in place, and their new companions were captured, motionless, in the middle of a meal. To his inexperienced eye, Lowe couldn't see there was all that much difference in this than in the thirteen Dungeons they'd completed thus far.

"You're being a touch dramatic here, aren't you? This is a Level 20-30 instance. Sure, I'm going to be woefully underpowered for what's about to happen, but it's not going to be one-shot kill territory, is it?"

"Yeah, that was going to be Plan A. But Ros . . . Rosaline used her discretion to make it into a Heroic Dungeon."

"So? I'm feeling pretty damn heroic right now."

"Fuck's sake." Latham's teeth were gritted into a snarl. "Five years back, the Mayor agreed that a new method of XP collection should be opened to allow a second version of familiar existing Dungeons to be released. I imagine you remember there had been a bit of an uptick in unexplained 'accidents' occurring which were strangely connected to those on the threshold of their next level?"

Now he thought about it. Lowe did indeed remember that period a few years back when it was like those on the edge of thresholds completely lost their minds. The Summer of Suckers, one wag had called it. Lowe didn't remember finding it all that funny.

Latham carried on. "Thus, the Heroic Dungeons were born. An opportunity for those who had completed the more mundane versions to be able to gather XP without - crucially - murdering citizens.

"How do you not know this?"

"Dungeon Delving, isn't it? Never took any interest, to be honest. So, I guess what you are saying is that this might be a bit harder than what we've done so far?"

"No. I'm saying this is going to be a fucking nightmare."

*

There are more effective ways to assimilate vital information than being frozen in place in the middle of a wood, but Lowe did his best to take on board what Lowe was drilling into him.

The Heroic version of 'Ambush at Iraklion' followed much of the same storyline as the 'normal' version that they had intended to complete - basically, a standard 'capture the flag' mission. They'd done a couple of those earlier in the day and had perfected the ideal tactic.

Lowe stood stock still while Latham fucked up everything and anyone who moved before taking the opposition's flag from their cold, dead hands.

Apparently, though, this strategy would not be available to them here.

"The moment we move, these fuckers are going to attack. I reckon I can get three of them in one go, but you're going to have to take on one and avoid the other before I can help out."

Without turning his head, Lowe tried to get a read on their adversaries. They were all Level 30s and of the Class. "Any advice for me?"

"Sure. Let me think. Yep, this feels pretty fucking pertinent. Don't enter a Heroic Dungeon without a team of twenty to back you up."

"Excellent. Thank you for that. Anything other than 'I told you so' to offer before we begin?"

Latham growled back. "The guy on the far left of their group -the one with the bow? - go after him. Chances are, if he doesn't one-shot you, your Slugger Skill, enhanced by my aura, will significantly fuck up his day."

"And you'll get the others?"

"I'll do my best, little man. But, and you need to listen to me now, the second the last of them drops, a timer will kick in. We'll have that long to get the flag before we fail this Dungeon."

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"And that would be bad, right?"

"Terminally so, yes."

"Fucking hell. And people do this for fun?"

"Screw fun. People do this for the XP." There was a pause, and then Latham started to speak, obviously thinking aloud. "The thing is, I can't just leave you here while I run and claim it. There's going to be waves of attacks here as well." The Warder's eyes flicked upwards at the enormous red flag that was hovering above the fire.

"So what's our plan?"

"You mean other than entering a Heroic Dungeon with just the two of us and you being as much use as a eunuch in a brothel?"

"Shall we take that as read?"

"Look, as soon as these guys are down, grab the flag and stick as close to me as you can. If I didn't think I was going to need both of my hands, I'd fucking carry you, but we'll make do the best we can. You have any better gear than that?"

Lowe nearly shook his head, then remembered the dire necessity to stand very still. "What you see is what you get, I'm afraid. I've got some decent rings and torcs and the like. But they don't have any particularly helpful stats for combat."

Lowe could be wrong, but he was sure Latham muttered 'fucking noob' under his breath. "Shit, I haven't got anything in my inventory low enough you can wear." He cursed again. "Look, just keep an eye out for anything that drops in here. Equip anything you come across. At least, with this being Heroic, the chances are it will be infinitely better than the crap you are wearing. You never know; we might actually get lucky. The loot table, in this sort of instance, can be pretty tasty. Makes the chance of almost certain death more palatable. You ready?"

Lowe absolutely wasn't, but as this was his fault, it did not really feel like his place to comment. All this just so he would be able to enter the building in which sat a priest he needed to interrogate stalking his ex.

His life had become quite odd of late.

"Go on the count of three. Give me a chance to prepare Slugger."

"Remember, take the archer down and then kite whichever of these others homes in on you."

"Kite?"

"Fucking hell. Run away from in a faintly tactical manner."

"Cheers."

"Then loot, equip anything decent, grab the flag and then get behind me." Latham's voice became a hair more sombre. "Keep your Mana stores high; this ain't going to be pretty. If all else fails, try to take non-immediately lethal injuries. Gut wounds, rather than headshots, if you can. Give yourself a chance to heal."

Lowe thought he'd heard more rousing pre-battle speeches, but before he could make that point, Latham was counting down, and there were suddenly more pressing concerns.

*

On three, Lowe turned and threw a Slugger punch at the man holding a bow with a quiver full of arrows on his back. As he did so, in the corner of his eye, he saw Latham instantly eviscerate a man with an axe across his lap before spinning to decapitate an unarmed man standing to his other side.

He would have liked to watch how the dealt with the last of his opponents, but things at his end had all become intense. Because the archer had dodged his punch and was preparing to launch an arrow into his chest.

Lowe just had time to turn to the side, catching the projectile in his shoulder, the impact flinging him yards backwards. Roll with the Punches kicked in, the sudden healing forcing out the arrow. Alarmingly, though, between that and Slugger, most of his Mana was already gone.

Lowe was just getting himself back to his feet when a second arrow hit him, this time in the stomach - look at me, Lowe thought, I managed to take a guy shot. Good to see that part of the plan working out just peachy - and then Latham was there, all flashing blade and chiselled jaw, and the clearing was very quiet.

"Come on, remember the plan. Loot, equip, flag and fucking shift." The Warder looked down at the arrow and pulled it out with a quick jerk. "Well done. You remembered."

"Yeah, that's me. All about the details."

There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the loot - should he survive, the eight gold would doubtless be put to good use. But the Cape of Wrath he picked off the archer added +15 armour to the +5 from the suit he was wearing and, as Latham snorted: 'every little helps.'

As he passed Lowe the flag, he asked, "You see the timer, right?"

Lowe thought it would be hard not to see the giant crimson number counting down at the right of his vision, and he nodded rapidly. "We have until then to get the flag?"

"And to protect outs. So let's go."

It was about all Lowe could do to keep up with the bigger one who moved with appalling grace and speed, leaving a trail of devastation in his wake. Lowe was struck, over and over again, at the size of the gap that existed between the highly Classed and mortal beings. And it wasn't just the Level disparity, Latham appeared to have a Skill that allowed him to increase his movement to an astonishing degree - if Lowe had to put money on it, he would have said it was a Legendary version of Blur - and it seemed to charge up each time Latham took an injury.

And my word, did Latham take a pasting on the journey through the woods. As a connoisseur of a good kicking, Lowe always prided himself on his ability to get hit and keep moving forward. Latham, though, made him look like a whingy child unwilling to prance through a field of stinging nettles and bear traps.

Time and time again, the was hit by arrows, blades, clubs and axes - many of the blows intended for Lowe - and he did nothing less than give complete and utter death in return.

"You see the golden glow?" Latham pointed to a light shining a little way to the left, turning the gesture to a punch that caved in an attacker's skull.

"Sure."

"Safe zone. We get there, we can take stock, and the timer will stop."

A crossbow bolt took Lowe in the knee, and he found himself stumbling forward. Without missing a step, Latham stooped, snatched the falling man around the waist and hurled him towards the Safe Zone.

Lowe crashed through a bunch of trees, adding a broken collarbone to the shattered kneecap on the list of his woes.

He shuddered to a halt in the middle of a glowing circle, briefly losing consciousness as Roll with the Punches took a deep breath and plugged up various holes and fractures. Lowe came to just as Latham appeared through the trees with a ridiculous smile on his face. "Well, this has been fun, hasn't it?"