Glonn’s body screamed in agony as consciousness returned to him. Slowly, consciousness returned. His last recollection was him drowning as the river carried him downstream. Then he remembered the circumstances that led to him diving into the river in the first place. He looked at his right arm and saw that only a stump remained below the elbow. Before he entered the frigid water, he had used the last vestiges of the sword’s power remaining in his body to seal his wound. Now it, like the rest of his body was on fire.

He forced himself to sit up and open his eyes. The elf he had been fighting might be nearby. When his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he saw that he was in some sort of cave or burrow. Then, the stench hit him. It stank of decay. The cave was lined the decomposing vegetation that had turned black. He heard water flowing nearby and realized that he was near the river. Chance and the currents must have swept him in here.

As he looked around for a way out, he saw that a statue had been carved out of the stone of the cavern’s far wall. The statue was huge, towering over him and was of a three headed woman with a massive belly. A mouth lined with broken teeth made up almost three quarters of each head, and she seemed to be staring at him with cat like eyes. Over her heads was an inscription in a strange text. He could not read the foul looking letters but somehow knew what they said.

“Phthisis,” he said.

He jumped and winced from the pain his movement caused as the statue’s stone heads turned to look at him. The mouths opened and all manner of foul looking insects spilled from them. The stench in the chamber grew more intense to the point that Glonn felt faint. Sheer willpower kept him conscious.

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“What do you want?” he demanded.

“I have been watching you,” the Goddess rumbled. “You interest me.”

“And what good is that to me?” Glonn asked, unafraid.

The chamber rumbled and was filled with a loud screeching sound that resembled a cackling laugh. “Yes, your spirit, and your drive. Marvellous.”

“Help me or begone,” Glonn said as he struggled to his feet and walked towards a fissure in one of the chamber’s walls. “I have plenty to do.”

“Ah yes, your quest for vengeance,” the Goddess said sweetly. “I can help you.”

Glonn paused and turned around. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “How?”

“You have caught my eye, little man,” the Goddess said. “But you have not proven yourself worthy of my powers yet.”

Glonn looked down at his stump and his blood began to boil.

“Yes, you understand,” the Goddess cackled, sounding pleased.

“So, if I reclaim the sword, you will grant me your powers?” Glonn ventured.

“No,” the cavern rumbled as the three heads turned from side to side. “You need to earn the right to wield her again. First, you must defeat the wielder of the Crown.”

“Why?” Glonn asked.

“He is Coronu’s Chosen,” she said. “Defeating him and claiming Coronu’s Crown will grant you His blessing and go a long way to proving yourself worthy of mine.”

“Which will give me the power to rule?” Glonn ventured.

“Prove yourself to all the Dark Ones and we will grant you the power for vengeance over all who have wronged you,” the Goddess said.

“Where can I find him?” Glonn asked.

“You know where.”

Glonn shrugged and walked towards the fissure.

“Do we have a pact?” the Goddess demanded.

“I don’t give a jot about proving myself to anyone,” Glonn declared as he stood at the fissure. “However, it so happens I have a score to settle with this wielder of the Crown. I will pluck it from his corpse and then we shall see where we stand with one another.”

Glonn stepped out of the cavern and into the morning sun. After getting his bearings, he saw the snow topped peaks through the trees to the east and smirked.

“King of the Mountains?” he scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”