The world’s a load of crap! There I said it are you happy now? I was always told that if I had a positive attitude then good things would happen. What troll shit! We’re friends right? You’d tell me if I was overreacting wouldn’t you? Of course you would. Need some context? Okay then, let me tell you how I got myself here, in the arsehole of nowhere, trudging through endless frozen mud. Get ready, here comes my life story and it’s a bloody fantastic one at that.

I spent the first few years of my life in the Narrows, you know? The slums by the capitol? Riven Bastion? Anyway, I lived in a crappy old tumble-down hovel with my mum and three other families. No dad to speak of, the little fuck abandoned mum after he knocked her up. Coward if you ask me. Still, it was home. We might not have had much but it was a good way to grow up looking back. Learned a lot about the necessities of life, fighting and stealing and all that. It was good while it lasted but, as with all good things, it was short lived.

When I was five or six the locals got to thinking that my sweet old mum was a witch. Yeah okay, so I suppose she was a little strange, a troubled sort, might have been a few arrows short of a quiver so to speak but a witch? Never! I could prove it too. She was too bloody inept and forgetful, bless her heart. She’d never be able to remember all the recipes for the lotions and potions and rituals and what not. But still people believe what they want to believe, ain’t no changing that. They let fear control them, don’t they? It wasn’t too long before we were run out of the hovel. Got away lucky I suppose, usually the penalty for witchcraft is death by hanging. My mum’s neck didn’t get stretched so I’d call that a win.

We lived on the streets for a time, begging and stealing to scrape by, before mum heard tell of a place that was hiring and apparently didn’t have all that many issues with the odd outcast or the lack of a fully furnished resume. The Wayward Tavern it was called. Heard of it? It was up north, towards Briar, just on the outskirts of Mystwood. Well anyway, we made the trek up there and tried our admittedly poor luck with the innkeeper, Mikel. Nice bloke, a bit grumpy though. You’d not want to fuck with him that’s for sure but he let us stay if mum worked in the kitchens by way of payment. I helped out where I could but mostly, as kids so often do, I got in the way. The patrons were a rough sort of lot but I somehow managed to stay out of trouble for the most part. One day though I woke up and mum wasn’t anywhere to be found.

Seriously, she’d vanished. All her stuff, what little she had, had gone too. She upped and left in the middle of the night without telling anyone. She didn’t even leave so much as a note. Not surprising now I think about it, she couldn’t read or write. Not like me, Mikel saw to that. He said I was more use to him if I could do my letters. I think he enjoyed playing teacher you know, never had kids of his own you see. He was the one who was obsessed with me having a positive attitude. As I said, he was a good man.

Even after mum left, Mikel let me stay so long as I worked my keep. I was the kitchen skivvy fetching and carrying pots and pans and potatoes mostly. Never knew a man to like potatoes as much as him. When I was old enough he let me wait the tables. I wasn’t too good at it really, a bit clumsy you see, but because I could read, I could spy on a lot of the not quite so legal activities the patrons were plotting, give Mikel a heads up so he made sure he could get a cut. He got a cut of all deals struck under his roof. All deals that was, except the ones struck with the Consortium, even Mikel wasn’t ballsy or Gods damned stupid enough to stick a finger in their pies. Anyway, I digress, what was I talking about? Oh yeah, that’s right, me! So not so good at the waiting tables gig but what I was good at was pest control.

Mikel knew I liked the odd scrap and had a love for anything sharp and stabby so he got me a rusty old sword and a knackered shield and sent me down into the basement every now and then to slice up the giant rats. They used to find their way up from the Underlands from time to time. They could smell all the Gods damned potatoes I kept telling him but he wouldn’t listen. I think he left them there on purpose because he liked to see me happy and I was never happier than when I was dicing those horrible critters. That probably says something about my mental state I suppose… Anyway, they were fairly easy prey if I’m honest, they do pack a nasty bite though. It taught me to be quick that’s for sure but I had my sights set on prey of a higher calibre than vermin. I want to be a mercenary you see. I want to fight for coin, fame, glory and honour… mostly for the coin though. I want crowds screaming my name as I come back victorious from a quest, the blood of my enemies still hot and wet upon me. Seriously… I think my head might be a little bit messed up…

It was at that point that the war broke out. Some revolution or some such, I don’t know the details. There’s this bloke wanting to free the slaves and kill the king, I don’t listen well to be honest with you but fair play to them. The system is broken so why not change it eh? Long live the revolution and all that but did they have to get the Wayward caught up in it? Really messed up a good thing there. It was razed to the ground you see and poor old Mikel, the closest thing I’d ever had to a dad, was put to the sword. It turned out that this revolutionary bloke had visited the tavern at some point so we were soiled goods so far as the king was concerned. He sent his army in and butchered the lot. I was one of the lucky ones, managed to escape, but I was in the minority. To tell the truth I turned tail and ran for my life. Cowardly I know, but there was no way one person could ever win against the whole damned Prymarian Army.

Now here I am slogging through the cold on the hunt for the Iron Eagles. You want to make a name for yourself as a fighter then that’s the mercenary band you join. The oldest and most prestigious mercs going. I heard they were last seen over Rone way so that’s where I’m heading with everything I own in a small, fraying pack. I can’t wait to meet them, the only thing is, I wish I had a bloody horse.

I’m getting ahead of myself here, let me back track a bit, let’s see. So yeah there I was running for my actual life, the smell of wood smoke and searing meat fresh in my nostrils. Usually those are comforting, homely smells but when you realise that the wood smoke is the stench of your home burning to the ground and the meat? Well, as I said, I was one of the few to get out of there alive. The bastards set the tavern ablaze with people still inside. The worst part about it was how hungry the smell of my cooking friends made me feel, it made me sick.

I lost it all in that attack, everything I ever managed to scrape together for myself was gone. My home, my friends, everything! At least I still had the clothes on my back and my life, that’s a positive outlook if ever I heard one, Mikel would be proud. What hurt me most of all was losing my bird, Corva. Cutest little rook you ever saw, raised her from a chick, she meant the world to me. She depended on me for everything and I depended on her too. In the panic I lost track of her, I hope she’s okay.

So there I was slogging blind through the mud, trying to get as much distance between me and the Prymarian soldiers as I could. I didn’t know where I was running. I just ran. I only stopped when my legs were numb and my lungs were on fire. I stumbled to a halt and puked up my breakfast all over my boots. Good job nobody saw that eh? How embarrassing. I knew I couldn’t stop for long so I gulped in as much air as I could and started off again at as quick a pace as I could go. I started following the edge of Mystwood east to put as much distance behind me and the Wayward as I could. It wasn’t long before I noticed the bloody tracks.

Somebody else had come by that way and recently. They had been bleeding a fair bit too. I followed on behind but took it real careful like. I didn’t have a weapon or anything so if this person was looking to fight I would be at a distinct disadvantage.

Turns out the bloke’s fighting days were over. He’d taken an arrow to the back of his leg, bled out whilst trying to run by the looks of it. He was lying face down in the muck, all spread out like he fell hard. His own blood had leaked its way down his leg, soaking through his breeches and boot. Tough bloke to run on a wound like that, not tough enough it seemed though.

When I turned him over, I recognised him. I’d served him in the Wayward just last night. I’ve seen one or two bodies in my time, you don’t grow up in a slum without it, but this one hit me hard. This one could have been me. Arrows were flying everywhere when I bolted. Ran like a scared little child, not even trying to help anyone but myself. I didn’t even try to help Mikel or Corva. What does that say about me? Perhaps my cowardice saved my life. Perhaps if I’d have stayed to help I would be dead too now. Only the Pantheon could say and they don’t say a great deal of shit unless you start slaughtering livestock in their name! It was done now so I’d have to live with my choices.

The man’s skin was pale, waxy even, caked in mud and grime but his flat, lifeless eyes still stared, judging me. A disapproving glare. I felt my stomach churn again but, with nothing left to vomit, I retched until my throat burned. My hands were trembling as I wiped at my mouth. I was sweating despite the cold. I came to the acute realisation that I had not eaten or drank for several hours and that this corpse happened to have a rather full looking pack attached. Can you actually steal from dead people? I mean he wasn’t in need of it anymore right? Well, either way, I took it and rifled through. He must have been heading out this morning anyway as the pack was laden with everything you need for a day’s journey, nothing had been touched. Bad luck you didn’t leave earlier my friend.

I was still feeling sick so I sipped at the water skin until my stomach was more settled. The cold wind was chilling me to the core at this point. I wasn’t exactly dressed for the weather. It was then that a really dark thought floated around my noggin… he wasn’t using his armour anymore right?

I stripped off his jerkin, cloak, gloves, helm, and scarf and quickly dressed myself. The jerkin was tight over my chest and the gloves were baggy but they’d do in a pinch. The breeches were ruined by the blood so I let him keep those, nice of me I know. I nicked his boots though, might have been a little bloodied but they were sturdy leather, hard to pass up on those. Apart from being covered in mud the clothes sufficed and definitely helped keep out the chill, at least I wouldn’t freeze to death now. He had a serviceable sword and round shield too so I availed myself of those, never know when you’re going to need a little protection right?

It would have been dumb for me to hang about in one place too long, especially around Mystwood. I said a few words to Thanatos, the god of death, over the now half naked corpse. I can’t say if the words were right or anything, I’m not really one for temple I’m afraid. Mikel hated anything to do with religion so I never really kept up with my faith. Can’t say I miss it much either if I’m honest.

Before long I was back trudging through the endless sludge heading eastwards in the hopes of finding some kind of town to rest my head. I didn’t want to be out by the woods on my own come nightfall, too many bandits around for my liking and I should know, I’ve served a fair few of them at the tavern.

I was once again eating up the miles at quite a pace. I ate as I walked once my stomach had finally settled. I didn’t want to risk retching it back up again. The pack didn’t contain anything too exciting, mainly dry biscuit and stale bread but it sufficed to keep me going until I saw a trail of smoke in the distance. This wasn’t the smoke of a burning building, more like that of a nice warm and cosy fire. My numb limbs were aching for warmth. I set my direction and doubled my pace. The wind was gaining, gusts tugged at my scarf and cloak. If I hadn’t had my icy fingers wrapped up in them the wind threatened to disrobe me at any instant. Normally I’m not averse to a bit of disrobing but in this situation it wasn’t in the forefront of my mind. The helm I’d ‘procured’ was a bit roomy so the wind howled around my ears. I pulled the scarf tight across my nose and mouth and pressed on.

As I got closer I realised it was a pokey little farm house with a fire burning in the hearth. The kind country bumpkins live in. You know the sort, right? Only have one set of teeth between a family of sixteen. Cousins indistinguishable from fathers, mothers indistinguishable from sisters. In fact, I think they tend to mix and match from what I’ve heard. Still at this point anything seemed like paradise. I slogged through what I would imagine to be fields usually filled with crops but at this time of year they were marshy with the recent rainfall. The land didn’t look the most fertile I’ve ever seen, not that I know a lot about that sort of thing mind you, but the ground was choked with roots and stones and long sinuous weeds creeped in amongst them. The heavy grey clouds looming overhead threatened rain and did little to make this farm look any more appealing. It was a poor farm, home to a poor family by the looks of things. Forced to scrape a living on the very edge of the Mystwood. Usually, I wouldn’t envy them but they had shelter and warmth, two things I needed, so tonight, I was positively green with jealousy.

I marched towards the rickety door as it opened and a stooped man hobbled out. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realised he wasn’t half as old as I first thought. He must have been late thirties I would imagine but the sort of late thirties that showed you had had a hard life. Weathered skin, you know the sort, face like an old man’s scrotum. What I first took to be a limp and a cane I soon realised was a crutch and one leg in a splint. He’d been a bit accident prone that’s for sure and recently too. Whether or not he had done it himself or somebody had done it to him I couldn’t say at this point.

“That’s far enough!” he yelled before I’d even reached the house, “What’s yer business ‘ere?”

“I’m just a traveller seeking shelter for the night. I mean you no harm.” I held up my hands to show my good intent. I didn’t have time for his suspicions I just wanted to get inside. I’d forgotten what sensation in my limbs was like.

“Who said yer can get that ‘ere eh? Who sent yer?”

“Nobody sent me. I was just travelling east and I came upon your farm. Just in the nick of time too by the looks of those clouds. Looks like we’re in for more rain.”

“Heh! The Gods get ready to piss on us again! Never a drop in growin’ season though eh? You can approach.” He waved me over and I followed his lead. Another thing Mikel had taught me, want to get on the good side of a farmer, complain about the weather, works every time.

The closer I got the more I could feel the warmth seeping through the cracks in the stone. I never knew anything could feel that good! The downside was the closer I got the more I could smell the farmer, all stale sweat and sour cabbage.

“What business yer got going east? Got the look of a fighter about yer what with the blade and all. You a merc?”

I could smell his rotten teeth through my scarf, it turned my stomach, but he came up with as good a story as any I suppose so I ran with it, “You’ve got a good eye, I’m a mercenary by trade, just looking for a new crew to join. The last lot I was with didn’t make it.” Half true I suppose.

“Yer must be headin’ for the Iron Eagles then yeah? I ‘eard a rumour they was in Rone. That’s east of ‘ere.”

That sounded like a good enough destination to me. “Yeah that’s right. Just looking for a place to rest tonight if that’s not too much trouble?”

“We ain’t had nothin’ but trouble round these parts of late.” Yeah tell me about it my friend I know that feeling. “Past few weeks our livestock’s been getting stolen see. Just one cow or sheep a night. I got to thinkin’ it was bandits nickin’ some for food. Happens from time to time but never all of my beasts and so quick too! I haven’t any left! I even got to sleepin’ out in the barn with ‘em to keep ‘em protected. Thought I could catch the bandits whats doin’ it. For three nights I stayed in there and a beast was taken each night without a peep. I never even stirred!

Then one night I was awoken with a mighty pain in me leg. Some hideous monster ‘ad me in its claws. It wasn’t no bandits I can tell yer. Fuck knows what it was! I ain’t never seen a creature like it, but it ‘ad me! I managed to swing me lantern at it, smacked it straight in the head. The scream it let out, chill you to the very core it would. Like the scream of a restless spirit it was. All of a sudden it ‘ad vanished and left me there all bloody, leg shattered. I’ll be lucky if it heals by next growin’ season now.”

“Sounds like you’ve had it rough.”

“That ain’t the ‘alf of it!” A stray tear slid down his cheek, “Last night it took my wife! Snatched her straight from outta bed. Ain’t nothin’ I could do about it! Now I’m left here looking after me two boys and the farm with me buggered leg and no way to get me poor Seliah back!” his voice was thick with emotion now, “She was alive you see, when she was took, I could ‘ear her screams in the night. I tried to make chase but I couldn’t keep up what with me stupid fuckin’ leg!” He slapped angrily at his thigh, “It took ‘er down to the pit, I’m sure of it, just in the forest edge there. Maybe yer could ‘elp? Yer look strong and fit, ‘ave to be a good fighter too being a merc. Please ‘elp me!”

“I don’t know-“

Little bugger interrupted me, “I’ll pay yer! I can’t promise much but I can pay yer some if yer just ‘elp Seliah, please!”

Now, I may have backed myself into a corner here by saying I was a merc but, at the promise of coin, my ears pricked up. Besides he was only an ageing and reasonably overweight farmer, whatever beats the snot out of him I’m pretty sure I could best it. “You can pay?”

“Yes! Yes, I can pay! Please come in!” he grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and funnelled me inside.

The wall of heat washed over me and suddenly I could feel again! All too suddenly actually because I was almost immediately one big cluster of pins and needles, it was horrendous, but hey, it meant I was warm right? The building was one smoky and grimy room with two large straw mattresses, a rug, a battered old table, a couple of chairs and a bench. Over the fire pit hung a blackened and battered cooking pot which had some foul smelling brown sludge bubbling away in it. What delightful cuisine these people made. I couldn’t help thinking that if this was how they lived I wasn’t going to be making much coin on this job, still it was my first paying job, and he hadn’t asked for my licence so technically I wasn’t breaking merc law. It had me all riled up and ready for a scrap. The rush was amazing, my first step towards being an actual mercenary and it just kind of found me. I was grinning from ear to ear and so glad I still had my scarf up around my face, it wasn’t really the best time for grinning.

“What’s your name farmer?” thought I had at least better know the name of my employer. It’s strange, I spent so many years imagining fighting for money but I never really thought about this part, the actual arrangements with clients. I found myself not really sure what to do. It was always about the glory and never about the admin. Feel a bit sorry for the clerks and the aides of the world, underappreciated really.

“Rovis, and yers merc?”

“Just Merc is fine for now.”

“Suit yerself, these are me boys, Fenith and Senor.” He pointed to two scrawny looking pale things in the corner, “No need to be scared boys. This man’s ‘ere to find mother.” He smiled at them with a blotchy face, “I can pay yer forty coppers I think but that’s all we got. Obviously yer can stay ‘ere as long as yer like to rest up afterwards. Please eat some stew.”

I made more coin than that in a night tending bar but still money is money. I wasn’t exactly in a situation where I could be picky what with no home an’ all. Also, that was a whole forty coppers more than I currently had, “That will suffice. Thank you for your hospitality.” Got to start somewhere right?

I stepped over to the stew rubbing my hands together, finally getting feeling back. The so called ‘stew’ was brown and lumpy with some pale stringy bits floating in it. It smelt like soil and mould but food is food when you haven’t got any so I filled a chipped wooden bowl with the slop and plonked it unceremoniously on the table.

This was when it all went a bit tits up to tell you the truth. This was when he actually realised who he was dealing with. It was my own fault; I should have politely declined a bowl of slop but on an empty stomach I needed to eat no matter how repulsive the meal looked and I wasn’t really thinking to be honest with you. I slumped down onto the bench, took off the helm and lowered my scarf. My long hair flopped down, the dyed purple streaks caught the firelight.

“What in the infernity is this?” Rovis yelled red-faced and furious, stalking across the cramped room towards me. He shoved his grubby face close to mine and placed a meaty paw on my shoulder, “Get the fuck out of ‘ere! Yer ain’t no merc! Yer a fuckin’ woman!”

Well, shit! There it was! My first paying customer and he was a misogynistic pig! Typical of my luck eh? To be honest I can’t blame old Rovis, it is against the law for a woman to bear arms. Fucking stupid law if you ask me but still it was realm law. Mikel was never one for abiding by the laws so he let me do whatever I wanted, other people aren’t quite that enlightened, or maybe blasé, about it though. Still got to look at the positives right?

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“I don’t see anybody else offering to help you, do you?”

“I don’t need the ‘elp of some random woman! Bet you don’t even know ‘ow to use that blade do yer? You must ‘ave stolen it I’d wager,” he’d have won that bet, “You ain’t nothin’ but a thief and a liar tryin’ to take me ‘ospitality and leave with me coin. What can you do that I can’t then eh?” Wow, he had all the charm of a particularly virulent yeast infection.

His breath was hot in my face. I felt a blob of spittle land on my cheek. I casually flicked it off and simply said, “Run?” In retrospect that probably wasn’t my greatest idea. It definitely didn’t defuse the situation that’s for sure. Sometimes my mouth can get away from me, I speak before I think. What can I say? I find sarcasm funny. Rovis, it seemed, did not.

He grabbed me by the scruff and pulled me to my feet. I could hear his boys whimpering from their perch in the far corner.

“Get the fuck out!” He screamed so hard I swear a blood vessel burst in his eye. His face and neck were all veins, sinew and fury as he tried to shove me back towards the door. I was ready, my feet were planted. Despite being much stronger than me he was off balance with his dodgy leg, I could have easily overpowered him, or at least that’s what I like to tell myself anyway, but I chose not to. Yep, that was definitely my choice. I stood my ground with my hands up in front of me showing my innocent intent.

“Rovis,” I said as calmly as I could, “Who else is there to help you?”

“What the fuck can you do that I can’t?” Tears were pouring down his face as he screamed. It made him even uglier, all blotchy and red, but it also made my heart break for him. He clearly wanted to save his wife but wasn’t physically able. He was also too bloody pig-headed to even entertain the idea a woman could do what he was unable to. I might have even felt sorry for him if he wasn’t being a dick about it.

“Rovis. I want you to let go of me please.” He still had his fist curled up in my cloak.

“Get out!” A snot bubble splatted all over his top lip with a stomach churning pop.

That was it, my sympathy, as short lived as it was, was over. My moment of weakness had passed. He was a blubbering, disgusting mess that refused to unhand me. I didn’t want to get his snot and tears all over my clothes, or rather the clothes that were currently mine. I grabbed his wrist in a vice-like grip and twisted. Slipping one foot behind his and hooking it back, I shoved forwards with all of my weight. I performed a really awesome roll with my hip and locked his arm up behind his back, slamming him face first to the rough wood floor as I towered over him. It looked amazing. Trust me, if you’d been there, you’d have been so impressed.

“I can fight and I’m offering you help for an honest wage, so let me help you Rovis. It might dent your pride, me being a woman and all, but I don’t see many men lining up to help you here. You don’t have many options. Let me help bring Seliah home. Let me help your boys get their mother back.”

He was just a sobbing puddle of filth on the floor, openly wailing and not even bothering to resist me. I let go of him and helped him to his feet. He hobbled over to the bench and flopped down onto it still bawling his eyes out. It was a bit pathetic really. So stoic a minute ago and now he was crying like a little girl. He mumbled something that sounded like ‘okay’ as he started rubbing at his nose with a grubby sleeve. So I sat down opposite him on a rickety chair to wait for him to sort himself out. The chair creaked a little as I lowered myself into it and I found myself desperately hoping that it wouldn’t collapse, how embarrassing would that have been? On the cusp of getting my first gig and I couldn’t even sit on a chair properly? Shameful! I scooped up the bowl of gruel and started gulping it down while I waited. It was grim, all tasteless and mushy with weird chewy bits in it which I later found out were the less desirable bits of the old farm cockerel. Lovely!

It took longer than I would have liked for him to finally stop snivelling so we could actually have a proper conversation. Even when he did regain a modicum of composure everything was all thick mucus-ridden voice and constant sniffling. I found myself liking this man less and less but so long as I was getting paid I could pretend right?

I got to thinking about what Rovis had already told me. I got to thinking about this so called ‘pit’. The name conjured up all sorts of images. All of them made it seem like a lovely place to visit, you know, a great place to take the kids for a picnic. At least it wasn’t in the Underlands. We’ve all heard the stories, haven’t we? People getting lost down there, walking in circles in the dark never to return to the surface. Those few that do make it back speak of the horrors in the depths of the earth. Those that do come back, come back different, broken somehow. Yeah I used to slice and dice the rats that came up but I was never stupid enough to actually go down there myself. I may not be what you would consider totally normal but I’m not a fucking idiot. I value this crappy little thing I call a life.

So it turned out I could not have been more wrong. ‘The pit’ was Rovis’ cute little name for the Underlands. In particular, the area just north of his farm in the edge of the bandit ridden forest and of course I agreed to the job for forty bloody coppers… maybe I am a fucking idiot after all.

It was truly the first time I was out on my own. Flying the nest, so to speak. Only had my wits to fall back on. Didn’t have my mum, or Mikel neither. Suppose I’d always been protected by someone or other but they were all gone now. Typical isn’t it? The first time it’s just me and shit gets heavy. Pfft figures!

The pit was a large sinkhole that had collapsed into one of the ancient underground tunnels we all know by the quaint name of the Underlands. Did you know there is something quite off putting about standing on the edge of a yawning black hole that is just brimming with things that want to kill and devour you in a whole host of delightful ways? How in the Infernity do I get myself in these situations?

When I tell you it was dark I mean very dark. ‘I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face if it was poking me in the eye’ dark. Oppressing, crushing darkness, the kind that makes you think you will never see the light of day again. It wasn’t hard to see why people went mad down in the Underlands. Luckily, I had come prepared. I sparked the flint and steel that Rovis had kindly let me have, by that I obviously mean I had pinched it from his house without his knowledge, but had every intention of returning it afterwards, promise.

The flash of light as the torch caught was almost painful in the darkness as it danced off of the roughhewn walls of the tunnel. It was eerily silent down here. All sound seemed to be absorbed by the tonnes of rock and dirt crushing down on the rather dodgy looking roof above me. I figured it had held up for countless centuries so what’s another few hours eh? I probably wouldn’t be crushed to death by a cave in, though that definitely would be desirable when compared to what the monsters down here would do to me. It’s a peculiar feeling wishing to be crushed by falling rocks I can tell you.

A nagging undercurrent of tension teased my already frayed nerves. The hard iron rim of my shield rattled endlessly against my arm as I shivered, sending bouncing echoes all around me in the dark. So much for going unnoticed eh? My body felt numb and I was fairly sure that wasn’t from the underground chill. The only thing that calmed the anxiety was the rhythmic scratch, scratch, scratch of chalk on the pockmarked tunnel wall as I laid a trail guiding me back to the sinkhole. I’m clever you see. I’m not going to become one of those ill-fated idiots that lose their way simply because they didn’t think to mark their path. It was about now that I remembered the other stories about the Underlands. The ones that mention the walls moving and changing of their own accord, closing off passageways and blocking exits. It was also about that time when I started praying to the Gods I didn’t believe in that those stories were troll shit.

Up ahead, on the left, there was a break in the endless stone tunnel, a recessed doorway. The ancient, rot-ridden door was secured with a huge but heavily rusted padlock, the key probably long lost into history. It hadn’t been opened in hundreds of years at least so it definitely wasn’t where Seliah had been taken but still my curiosity was piqued. Something was telling me to explore. Telling me I had to open it. Almost willing me to.

I slammed the rim of my shield against the ancient lock expecting it to fly off, you know all impressive, like they always do in the stories. That was not the case, not at all. In fact, it took four or five strikes and a major dent to my pride to break it. The door eerily swung in on creaking hinges and I was instantly slapped in the face by the smell of mushrooms. Not nice fresh fluffy white mushrooms, that wouldn’t have been too bad, but the stink of mushrooms when they start to turn slimy and black. The stench was oily in the air, instantly flooding my senses, clammily sticking to my clothes.

To say the room was dark is the most underiest understatement ever, even with my torch I couldn’t see many details. It was like the walls were wriggling as the flames danced. Just as I plucked up the courage to take a step inside, it was like a voice willing me on, something within moved. A slithering, winding tentacle slapped and flopped across the floor reaching for the doorway, for me.

Blood roared in my ears and my heart pounded out of my chest. I was frozen in fear. I don’t mind telling you if I hadn’t gone for a piss in the forest earlier, I would’ve definitely been going then. The tentacle was slow but getting closer all the time. I had to do something, I had to act. My muscles were like stone, immovable, unresponsive. I was trying to reach out, trying to slam the door before whatever it was could escape from what was now feeling more and more like it’s prison. The fear gripped me tight filling my head with white noise and panic. The tentacle was reaching out too, though for freedom or myself I couldn’t tell. The tip of it brushed past my leg in what felt like a lover’s embrace, delicate and gentle. A stabbing tingle. I felt an undeniable feeling of fury and hatred coursing through my body from where it touched. The dark feeling burned like fire through me. All of a sudden I felt my arm dart out and slam the door shut, slicing the tip of the tentacle clean off. My legs had a mind of their own as I scrabbled desperately away from the door. It was like I was watching my life unfold without being able to do anything. Just watching as I ran down the dark corridor, scuffing, tripping, panicking, just an observer. With a voice in my head saying ‘thank you’.

I ran and ran for what seemed like an eternity until stumbling, I fell flat on my face. I heaved in lungfuls of air, gasping and wheezing. I’m a fairly fit and healthy person but a desperate sprint for your life, it really takes it out of you, especially two in one day! I had fallen in a shallow puddle of mud which was currently soaking through my clothes and the chill was creeping into my bones.

I stood and collected my bearings, I had run deeper into the Underlands away from the entrance, away from safety. Looking around I had stumbled into a large, cave-like room with a ceiling so high the torchlight couldn’t find it. The smell of decaying fungus had gone and been replaced with a much more familiar smell, a metallic smell, blood. The puddle I had fallen in was not mud at all but congealing blood. Human blood? Seliah’s blood? I didn’t know at this point but I knew I had to find her and I knew I had to get out. I started to tiptoe deeper into the room to follow the trail of blood.

Remember that feeling you had as a kid when you woke up in the dead of the night, laying there in the darkness, convinced you just saw a shadow move at the foot of your bed, for me it was a fusty pile of rags in a crowded shack, but you get my meaning. The dread of the unknown. The feeling of loneliness, of being lost. Like you are all alone in the world, just you and the shadow. Remember that? Well that’s what I was feeling at that very moment. The only difference was that I actually wasn’t alone. I knew in my core that there actually was a shadow in there with me. I could feel it in my bones. That instinct you have that tells you you’re being watched; I just didn’t know by what. I felt eyes on me, all around me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Shit, the hairs on my hairs stood up! I had the feeling I was being stalked. Hunted like prey.

The room was littered with rubble, ancient roots and other detritus, namely bodies. The brittle bones were strewn across the stone in unceremonious heaps, pennants of withered flesh clung to them, desiccated and leathery. Most I didn’t recognise but some were beasts I knew, deer, horses, wolves, giant bloody rats (I swear they haunt me). The fresher looking ones, the ones that still stank of decay, the ones that boiled with bloated red maggots, were those of sheep and cows, Rovis’s livestock… Wait a minute, wouldn’t it be called deadstock now? Is deadstock even a thing? Anyway, it looked like I was in the right place at least, a happy accident. Well not so much happy but you get the gist.

It wasn’t just a room now, that much was certain. What I had unwittingly entered was in fact a lair. Now, I’m not up to date with lair etiquette but I’m fairly certain that the occupants generally don’t appreciate off the cuff house calls. I was just hoping against hope I would go unnoticed and what with my luck so far I was sure that would happen… yeah right!

My breath came heavy and loud no matter how I tried to keep it in. The borrowed armour squeaked and creaked. My boots scuffed against the rough stone. My scabbard jingled and the torch crackled. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t move silently and it was really pissing me off.

That was when I heard it. A gentle snuffling whimper from somewhere to my right. I held the torch up higher to try to get a look. All it showed were more dancing shadows and more bleached bones. I padded as softly as the clumpy boots allowed, bloody things, over to where the noise came from.

“Seliah?” I hissed so quietly it was no more than a breath, “Seliah is that you? I’ve been sent by Rovis. I’m here to take you home.” Another wordless whimper. “Seliah?”

I turned the corner and at the edge of my torch light I saw her. A pile of bloody rags surrounding a bloodless corpse. Cold, blind eyes staring into mine. Bloated tongue lolling on her lips. A ragged crimson wound around her neck. Small black beetles nibbled at her once pretty features. She’d been dead a while.

I crept closer still. A whimper sounded over my shoulder. My heart plummeted. My shadow had found me.

Reaching for my sword, I span to face the noise. A weight struck me hard from behind. It threw me down. It was all I could do to stop my face smashing into the stone. My sword and torch went flying along with the shield. The loose helmet sent echoing clangs darting around the room as it tumbled across the stone. I turned to face my attacker whilst clambering backwards over strewn bones. The torch had rolled a fair way. It’s flickering light barely reached me. I could see a vague shape clambering towards me. Pouring over the bones like a river over rocks. The human-like whimper still echoed through the cavern, taunting me. I was barely breathing; fear had gripped my chest so tight. My throat had closed up and my eyes refused to shut. My fingers tingled and my legs were numb. I could taste bile. That disgusting tentacle thing seemed like a fond memory now.

Sprawling across the floor I desperately tried to escape. My legs were water. They couldn’t take my weight. I was crawling on my back, like a frigging crab, unable to pull my eyes away from the shadow. My fingertips touched something cold and hard. The rim of my shield. I flicked my eyes to it as I grabbed it. That was it, my weak moment, my concentration broken for just an instant and my hunter knew it. It was its time to strike.

Two scythe blades darted out to part my head from my neck, not something I was all that excited about happening. I rolled bringing the shield up just in time, still they hit like hammer blows driving the shield right into my head. That bloody hurt I can tell you! I saw stars as the strikes rained down in a blind frenzy.

In all the madness I had to do something so I kicked out with all my strength. I hit what felt like a tangle of branches, but these branches writhed. Legs maybe? Who knows but I kept kicking until I felt something squishy and leathery take a solid blow from my boot. A high pitched screech echoed in my ears and suddenly the weight lifted from my chest. I hopped to my feet as quickly as I could. My head was spinning and my legs were still shaking. I saw the putridly pale arse of the creature disappear into the shadows, scuttling up the vertical wall like a bloody insect.

I scrambled for my sword which lay nearby as I touched my fingers to my forehead. They came away bloody. Almost taken out by my own shield, the irony was not lost on me. My torch had managed to wedge itself under a pile of rubble a few feet away.

Before I took two stumbling steps the creature slammed into the ground next to me blades flying at my face. I was more prepared this time, I met blade with blade deflecting the strike. That was when I realised, I wasn’t matching blades at all but sword with… well arm I suppose. The scythes were a part of the monster, sprouting out of its limbs. Not metal but something just as hard, and my guess was just as sharp too but I wasn’t overly eager to test that particular theory out.

It was quick, very quick. Much faster than any rat I’d killed. It was all I could do to keep my feet under me. It was pushing me back, away from the torch. Forcing me away from the light and into the darkness. I had to act and soon before I was blinded.

I swung my shield up to defend the blows to my left as my sword arm did all the work deflecting strikes from the right. My arms were lead. I could hardly breathe. I had tunnel vision. I could only focus on the scythes as they danced around me looking for the killing blow. One glanced off the rim of my shield and sunk into the flesh of my shoulder. Burning pain engulfed my arm as I screamed through gritted teeth. The creature screeched a joyful victory and raised up for the final attack.

That was it, my moment to strike. The beast had thought it had won and it very nearly had. I was dead on my feet and bleeding. My shield arm was next to useless and my sword arm was aching with fatigue. You know when people say that when they are on the brink of death time seems to stand still? Well it bloody does it turns out.

I could smell the sickly scent of decay mixing with the musky putrid stink of the creature’s breath. I could hear its feet scratch and scrape against rock and bone. I could suddenly see in perfect clarity despite the darkness. Its pale and sinewy body was stark before the blackness behind. I could make out a maze of blue veins pulsing just beneath the surface. Its face was a hideous mass of mandible, fang and maw, no eyes or ears to speak of. Probably gave them up in order to have extra teeth or something. As it screeched thick slobber splattered across my face like hot rain. Its scythe-like arms glinted in the flickering torch light. Seemingly hundreds of insect-like legs skittered and writhed under the thick-skinned leathery body in a blur of movement.

There! That was it! My way of evening the odds. Its skin was too tough and its blades too quick. The numbing feeling in my face from the spit told me I’d rather not get closer to its face, but its legs on the other hand. Take out a few of them and I’d like to see it come at me so fast! Where the legs joined its blubbery body there was a small, pinkish gap between armour plates. That was my target, my only chance, it just meant I had to get close. That could be a problem.

My body suddenly felt light as a feather as the last burst of energy I had coursed through my muscles. I slid my feet forward as I raised my shield through a scream of pain in my shoulder. I smashed it into the creatures face as I hacked my sword down with all my might. I put everything I had into the blow. All of my weight and strength, all of my fear and my anger. I let out a roar of defiance as the blade struck. I was off balance. I fell in a heap and rolled away flopping onto a mass of dry bones with a crunch, my eyes squeezed shut waiting for the oncoming reprisal.

It never came. The tension eased out of my body and I cracked open one eye. The creature was jibbering and writhing on the floor. Thick red blood oozed from four neat wounds on its belly. The four severed limbs twitched and flicked themselves independently around on the floor. It was gods damned creepy! Bleagh! It still makes me shiver to think about it even now.

I hauled my dead limbs under me and dragged my equally dead body upright. My shoulder was a searing mess and my shield was damaged to say the least, just splinters of wood and a leather strap, useless. Discarding it, I strengthened my grip on the short sword and stalked around the beast to the sputtering torch. Picking it up, it burst back to life, pouring light back over the scene of carnage. The feeling was beginning to return to my face by now. Gods knows what was in that creature’s spit but I didn’t fancy a larger dose that’s for certain.

I circled wide around the monster on my way to investigate Seliah’s body. The creature was still flopping about like a fish out of water, letting out keening, sorrowful moans. I could have finished it off I suppose but I favoured the ‘let it fucking suffer’ route. Maybe not overly ethical but I’m not going to lose any sleep over that, not after what I did to Seliah and what it tried to do to me. The thing deserved to burn in the Infernity.

Seliah had been drained, exam… exsandu… exsangui… had all her blood sucked out… I forget the posh word for it now. Her neck was a bloody mess. Looked like chopped steak where the creature’s teeth had mashed their way to her artery. It was a bad way to go that’s for sure. Poor woman didn’t deserve this. Nobody deserved this. I’d failed her. That hurt. Looking back, she’d been dead longer than I knew she’d existed but still, it hangs heavy. Still, a job’s a job so I slid my sword into my belt and hoisted her up onto my good shoulder. She was light, just skin and bone really, but still after the hammering my muscles had taken it hurt to lift her. She stank too. She stank of rot and shit. Nothing romantic about death I’m afraid. From the richest king to the poorest beggar, when you die you are likely to let loose if you catch my drift. Death sure is a good equaliser. Thanatos be praised!

I shoved her body around a bit to get it in as comfy a position as I could before turning and coming face to face with the maw of a thousand teeth. Mucous dibbled thickly onto my boot as the creature slowly opened its mandibles and let out a deathly hiss.

I had nothing left. I had spent all my reserves kicking its ass the first time. I didn’t even have my sword in my hands. I was about to give up when from nowhere my arm shot forward thrusting the now blazing torch into the beast’s open mouth.

The scream was horrific! It’s still ringing in my ears even now but the stench was the worst. Burning hair, scorched fat and puke all rolled up into one. Okay I admit I added the last bit myself but the other two smells came from the thing.

My feet were thundering across the bones and stone somehow controlling themselves and I plummeted headfirst through the darkness. The torch was still lit but smothered in bits of burning monster meat it created more smoke than light. I was pelting down the tunnel faster than I ever thought possible. Before long I was flying past the door from earlier, making sure I stamped hard on the severed tentacle.

I began to pass my chalk scrapings before I started to slow. I wasn’t slowing by choice you understand, I wanted to be out of there quicker than ever. In fact, I wanted to be lounging on a feather bed somewhere with several well-muscled and scantily clad hunks serving me wine and roasted boar but you have to keep your dreams realistic right?

I began to choke for air, gulping in as much as I could but it wasn’t enough. Coughing and spluttering I collapsed into a wall and coated the floor in yet another pile of vomit. I’d like to blame that one on Seliah’s smell but I think that’s probably a bit unfair. I mean she was dead, not much she could have done to help it was there.

It wasn’t much further until I was breathing fresh air above ground. I had gone into the Underlands and survived! Okay, only by the skin of my teeth, but survived none the less. Got to count that as a win, right? The relief was palpable the only issue was I only had a corpse to share it with me.

I carted her remains back to her family, she deserved proper burial rites and her family deserved to know what happened to her. Rovis was obviously distraught but still he was good to his word and gave me the coppers. He might have been ugly as sin but at least he was honourable.

“I’m sorry for your loss Rovis. I truly am. She’s been dead a while. Probably not long after she was taken by the looks of her. Still… I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for what you did. Thank you for bringing her home to us.”

I turned to make a fairly quick exit; the lads needed to grieve. I slipped the purse of coins on to the table as I left. Stupid frigging conscience! They would need the money more than me soon. The farm was in a sorry state and with Rovis injured and Seliah dead there was just the two boys to do all the work. Lean times ahead for that lot.

“The name’s Refeyn by the way,” I said as I shut the door behind me.

So here we are, me with a sliced-up shoulder, a gash on my forehead and a red itchy patch on my leg where that frigging tentacle touched me, with no shield and meagre coin plodding ever onwards towards Rone in the vain hope the Iron Eagles are still there, if they ever were at all, and you… you are a presence inside my head. Maybe this is what people meant by being broken by the Underlands? Still, you seem nice enough though so I’m not worried. Heh, who am I kidding? I refer you back to my opening statement, ‘the world’s a load of crap!’... and I still wish I had a bloody horse…