Kaleb held Iridia tight as she came to.

“What happened?” Iridia’s eyes had returned to hazel and her senses were no longer dulled from the hideous stench or the filthy necromancer's den, her nose wrinkled and she choked and spluttered at the sharpness of it all.

“You defeated a great foe, Iridia.” Kaleb squeezed her tight. “I am proud of you.” Iridia didn’t respond as she was lifted and carried over his shoulder. Behind him, he dragged a battered chest on an old rope.

“What’s in the box?” She asked as she flopped on his back.

“Our equipment along with some items of interest, the Elves might be able to use them to identify the demon that is seizing our lands.” Kaleb marched down the tunnels, over the splattered creatures and back to where they had started. Captain Gregor was nowhere to be seen which was a slight concern. Kaleb looked up the hole and grunted, it was steep, too steep to run up, especially with the exhausted Iridia on his back.

“Let me down, it’s fine.”

Kaleb set Iridia down gently and placed his hands on his hips. “No way we are getting up here, especially with you in your condition and this crate…”

“Call for Morgan.”

Kaleb pursed his lips and fished out his whisper stone, clearing the dirt from the surface with his thumb and studying it with reluctance and deepening anxiety, he could find something out he’d prefer not to know, alas, his heart must remain staunch. “Morgan, are you there?” He looked at Iridia as he spoke into the stone. “Morgan, say something if you hear me.”

“I’m here, where are you?”

“In a hole, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, is Iridia safe?”

Kaleb looked at her and nodded. “Safe as houses, Morgan…where is Flencer?”

“He headed off to the wagon with the magic chest.”

“Go fetch him, we need to get out of here, we need a rope or something.”

“Alright.”

Morgan stood up and precariously found his footing, the camp was haunted and had a stench of death. He slapped through the mud and blood, corpses littered the pathways and he found it difficult to find his bearings. He turned on the spot several times trying to figure out which way the wagon was. “Flencer!” he called out in despair, realising quickly this was probably a mistake as he’d alert anything hostile to his whereabouts, however, no reply came.

He stepped over another corpse and peeked inside a large tent. Bodies, death, and that familiar reek; nothing moved. Morgan was positively perplexed, had Flencer been on some sort of insane Dwarven rampage? It couldn’t be, this was the work of someone like Kaleb or another great warrior, The Dwarf was formidable but he couldn’t perpetuate this level of ultra-violence.

After a few minutes of trudging aimlessly through the rows of tents he found the large one he was brought into after being tortured, he recognised the banking and made for it. He breathed heavily as he clambered up the side, clasping at clumps of dirt as he struggled to get to the top. The wagon came into sight, it had been tipped over and the horses were away. He could hear rustling in the bushes behind where the magic chest was sitting alone in the middle of the road.

Morgan moved to the chest and went to open it, but the ring was gone. He struck the chest and flopped on it. “Oh dear, divine, have we been betrayed so soon? Curse that blasted Dwarf and his lies!”

“Who you callin’ a liar?” Flencer was clambering up the hill on the other side of the road, two horses behind him.

“Where did you go?”

“To fetch the horses, lad, they’d scarpered.”

“Where is the magic ring? You took it?”

“I did lad, aye.”

“What do you plan to do?”

Flencer strode passed Morgan and opened the magic chest and slowly he reached in and lifted the seed out to show him. “I put my lot in with your lot, my fate is yours, fair enough, eh?”

Morgan nodded and caught the ring when Flencer tossed it to him. “Sorry I doubted you.”

“I’m a Dwarf, it’s common, you understand being half an Elf right?”

Morgan chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose…oh!” Morgan shook his head. “We need to help Kaleb and Irida, they are in a hole, and we need a rope or something.”

“I have just the thing, let’s go.”

Morgan cocked his head. “Did you kill everyone in the camp, Flencer?”

“Yeah, with me bare hands!”

“How?”

“That’s a joke, lad, I dunno, they suddenly dropped dead…the lot of 'em.” Flencer slapped him on the back and immediately apologised to the wincing Morgan. “Hm, are you ok to come? You can wait here if you like.”

“No, I want to see she’s ok.”

“You’re really smitten aren’t you, lad?”

“She’s kind and deserves better than all this.”

Flencer laughed, “What about poor old, Kaleb?”

Morgan smirked, “The things he afflicts usually deserve it.”

“Right you are, lad! He’s a real bastard eh?” He laughed heartily and shimmied down the banking, Morgan followed with renewed energy.

***

Flencer had cleverly used the rope ladder from the other pit to help Iridia and Kaleb back up.

As they clambered to the lip Morgan hugged Iridia, not caring for the smell or the fact she was covered in a liquid most evil that the composition of its ingredients would need to be understood using a book of demonic occult. “I am so glad you are safe, my lady.”

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“I am glad you are alive, Morgan, It was terrifying down there.”

“What of the guards?” Kaleb was still all business, not letting his guard down momentarily, a true professional in many ways.

Flencer explained to Kaleb what had happened and they deduced that the death of the Necromancer probably had something to do with the collapse of his control. They were still on high alert nevertheless.

“What next?” Morgan still had an arm around Iridia and her arm was wrapped around him, using each other a crutch.

“It may sound odd,” Kaleb bit his lip. “We should bathe, using the tubs here in camp, I want to cleanse us of this filth.” The party nodded in agreement, and one couldn’t complain about two baths in one day.

They took it in turns this time, though Iridia helped Morgan cleanse as his wounds were painful yet not life-threatening. After they were cleaned and smelling acceptable they dressed in simple wares they had found in the camp quarters. Flencer, unfortunately, had to tuck his shirt into his rolled-up breaches.

They headed back to the overturned wagon where Flencer went straight to trying to heave it up right. “Little ‘elp ‘ere, Kaleb,” he strained, the wagon barely coming away from the floor.

“Iridia, help him.”

Iridia blinked a few times and glanced back and forth between the wagon and Kaleb, hand firmly on her hip.

“I reckon you’d be better suited, Kaleb.”

“Iridia, lift it, don’t worry Flencer, she won’t need your help.” Kaleb chortled and went through the equipment trunk and the crate, ensuring their armour and weapons were accounted for.

Flencer wiped his hands on his chest and stepped back. “Alright, my lady.” He shot her a toothy grin through that ginger beard. “Help a poor Dwarf?”

Iridia approached the wagon and hooked her fingers under it. “I don’t see–” she caught herself off guard, the wagon was coming off the floor and she was only just straining. It got a little heavier after a moment but she could handle it. The wagon landed neatly upright, wobbled and settled. Iridia stepped back and looked at Flencer who in turn had a mouth agape so wide one might be able to drive the wagon through it like a tunnel.

“How’d you?”

“She’s a Paladin, Flencer.” Morgan smiled, admiring her handy work, “They are quite incredible sometimes…and full of surprises.”

“I’m not the only one…” She smiled back at, Morgan.

“Well done, Iridia.” Kaleb clapped. “I find a new use for you every day.”

“Like killing Necromancers?”

“Yes.”

“Saving you from other Paladins?”

“Yes.”

“Advising you on purchases, like the shield and grenade–”

“Don’t push your luck neophyte.” He winked at her.

Iridia nodded silently and climbed into the back of the wagon to sit down and contemplate, though she was quickly joined by Morgan.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I just got shot with a bolt through the chest.”

“I suppose you’ll be used to it by now.” Morgan scratched his chin.

She nodded and chuckled, eyes closed as she listened to Kaleb and Flencer debate, or argue when the next meal should occur. “How are you doing?”

“I am fine my lady, just a few scratches.”

Iridia frowned and opened her eyes to lean forward again. “They cut your ears.”

Morgan touched his freshly snipped points that had been surgically altered with great maliciousness and with no care. “Indeed, perhaps they did me a favour.”

“No, they didn’t.”

Morgan sighed and sat back, closing his eyes and nodding off in relative comfort.

Kaleb joined them in the back with the chests before the wagon started to rumble away, Flencer had taken the reins, and they’d agreed to get as far away as possible, continuing down the path that they were stopped on by the guard.

“How did you know I could lift the wagon?”

“You witnessed the divine, for that I offer you congratulations, Iridia.”

Iridia nodded. “Why hadn’t it come before?”

“Because you hadn’t wanted it to come, Iridia, you were finally connected at that moment and now you are truly blessed by the divine heart.” Kaleb ran his hands through his hair and heaved. “You saw the veins reaching out to the world above, yes?”

Iridia pondered then nodded. “I believe so, I saw everyone, it was as if I was buried beneath the world and the floor was glass.”

“Remember when I said everyone was a vessel?”

“Yes, outside your house.”

“Well, now you are the deepest one of them, The Divine Heart holds onto you and if you should let corruption seep in through you, it will drain into the heart and cause it great pain and sadness, the artery that connects you will wither and fester and it will be a tool for great evil.” Kaleb leaned in with wild green eyes, “That is why our duty in the house of Zale is so imperative, that is why we must cut the corruption, and that is why you must not give those who become corrupted an inch for it will bleed into the heart and murder the light within.”

Iridia’s mouth was open with a true fear, one greater than she felt while within the depths of the Necromancer’s den. She nodded, leaning forward.

Kaleb sucked in another breath. “The deeper you’re connected to the divine heart, the more power you will draw into yourself, and the more evil can flow back through you, that is why a Paladin must never falter.”

“What of the heart now?” Iridia’s brow was furrowed, “is it well with all this evil?”

Kaleb waved his hand. “We will discuss further when needed, right now I require that you focus on your own light that wells inside.”

Iridia’s face screwed up and she sat back again. “I am ready to learn more, I will not waver.”

“Really?” Kaleb raised his brow. “Do you remember getting into that lovely, warm bath the first time?”

Irida’s eyes looked up and to the left, she shook her head truthfully.

“Nor do I, we were lulled by evil, not to commit evil mind you, but into a false state of safety, just like that.”

Iridia bit her lip, realising how easily she and Kaleb were tricked.

Kaleb smiled at her. “What did the Necromancer show you in his den?” he decided to change topic, intrigued about the inner workings of his neophyte.

“My father, alive…back home,” Her eyes went a little dreamy, the smells and tastes were so real that she treasured the faux memory.

“Did he play the same trick upon you with a desire of your own?”

“He did.”

“What did he show you?”

Kaleb’s eyes brightened. “None of your business.”

“Hey, I told you mine!”

“Another lesson learned, what you give in this world is not always returned.”

Iridia smirked and noted the advice, she had slowly grown fond of some of Kaleb’s methods, even if he was a big git for doing it. She watched him fall asleep before moving over to sit beside Morgan, wrapping an arm around him and resting her head against his. The sound of the carriage bumbling down the road helped her drop off too.