Often I had wondered how my friend had such a firm grasp of strategy and tactics, and ostensibly without any formal training at that. It was games from his childhood, of all things, that had schooled him thus, or so he said. But what sort of games were they from his land, that could teach the principles of logistics, battle lines, the correct order of battle, the importance of morale, and so on and so forth?

At times, he would speak with profound depth, though in his delivery I could tell that perhaps the words were not his. Yet, in all of my own studies, I have yet to find a single work that could have been his source of wisdom.

- From the diary of Damien de Savant.

A lifetime of grime and dirt covered the troglodyte, who I could see at such a close remove, was female. Dirty crude skins covered her important parts and small bones jingled in her matted hair, giving her a primitive, and now, dejected aspect. So ugly was she, that were it not for the fact that I had already identified this dweller of the dark as human, I would have seriously considered trying to use my Monster Taming skill on it.

One saving grace to all of this was that the creature had stopped struggling.

“Take me to the surface,” I commanded flatly in their simple tongue, infusing my voice with as much menace as I could muster.

Her Confusion struggled with her terror for a second. However, it was her curiosity that won out. “Surface?” she questioned, eyes growing wide with the unfamiliar word. Oddly innocent, like a child speaking its parent’s name for the first time.

“Yes,” I responded, drawing out the single syllable before pointing upwards.

“The place of the Bright Bright?” she exclaimed, eyes growing even wider in incredulity. Now that she knew that I wanted something from her, she realized that her life was in no danger.. With her fear lessening, she was slowly clawing back a semblance of control and confidence.

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For some inexplicable reason, every word she spoke seemed to draw my ire. I gave it a brief moment of thought. Some people, or whatever she was, just rubbed me the wrong way on a cellular level.

“If that is what you people call it,” was my flat reply. I decided to not expand upon my answer. Hopefully, she would expand upon this Bright Bright thing for me.

“But that,” she gulped as if for dramatic effect before continuing, “That is the place of the fire that always burns, and the winds that cut like blades. No, no, no, only demons walk on this surface, ever since the bad times. So it said,” she blurted, shaking her head.

Annoyed. Irritated. How these emotions could grow. Why was it that they had to talk in riddles? Was it in a pathetic attempt to stir interest in their little lives?

Before I knew it, I had wrapped my hands around her throat and was squeezing hard. I noticed that my shield had disappeared to wherever it had come from. I remembered summoning it before my encounter with the Troglodytes, but when had I dismissed it? Damn, this world and its total blasted disregard for the natural laws of the universe.

Zala was choking and spluttering as she feebly struggled. I lessened my grip, letting her take a strangled breath. It would not serve my cause for me to kill my only source of information for this place. Going forward, perhaps I could curb my slightly homicidal tendencies, if I spoke out the creature’s name.

“Zala” I demanded, the command echoing down into the deep beyond.

Zala stilled her pointless spluttering. Trembling, she continued on for a while, muttering unintelligible sounds that grated on my ears. I realized that my Identify spell had run out and cast the spell anew, allowing me to catch the tail end of her explanation, “No one goes to the surface, the place of the deadly Bright. If you go there, metal man, even you will enter the Lonely Dream.”

This drew a snort from me. I deigned to grace her with an explanation.

“From the surface, I have come, and to the surface, I will return. Show me the way, Lonely Dream or not,” I said firmly. Hopefully, exasperation had not infected my attempt at being menacing.

Was the fool simply prevaricating, buying time while the rest of her people marshaled more of their forces against me? The voices within agreed that it was so, but more to the point, I could feel them urging me to leave this place. I decided that this little interview had gone on long enough. It was time to expedite things.

“Zala, take me to the surface, or I will skin and gut you. Slowly.”