“Let’s go fetch our Dwarf back,” Kaleb sighed and made for the direction Flencer was dragged. The party followed behind.

It was hard to make out what the trench truly was and to fathom its tremendous scale. The darkness was suffocating. A wave of bones now hovered above their heads, occasionally the remains of a Half-Elf would drop on them. It was a twisted reality that scratched at the sanity of the party, floating bones and endless roots.

“What kind of madness lives here?” Kaleb muttered in disgust.

“Irin-Mirith is the keeper and revealer of secrets, once we could commune freely with it, it would guide our peoples and help shroud our existence from foe and evil. Now it haunts our visions and tortures our spirits.”

The party were moving at a light run, Gin-rith was panting as he spoke, his older body did not heal like his companions and he had been pushed to his limits within the last hour.

“Why?” Iridia huffed out the question everyone wanted the answer to.

“I suspect…this demon is–ah.” Gin-rith stumbled and was saved by the weight of the buck, holding onto the reigns to avoid a face full of wet mud.

“Gin-rith you sound as if you are about to die, what ails you?”

“Age does, dear Paladin, my body should have broken a day ago.”

Kaleb swung his bright hammer around, revealing roots and bones pressed into the moist mulch along the walls of the trench. The illumination then rested upon the struggling Gin-rith, which elicited a sigh from Kaleb. He forgot that he, like every Paladin, had divine perseverance in addition to some other boon. It could be the power to inspire others, increased speed, or the ability to heal the wounds of others. Kaleb and his neophyte had the blessing of an unbreakable body and will, allowing them to forge on until they were dead.

“I can continue, I am sorry to slow us down.”

Kaleb nodded, “You do well, old man.” He smirked, “You have courage and grit, I respect that.”

Gin-rith started to walk again, and Iridia walked towards him to help.

“Unfortunately, I cannot have you slowing us down, Gin-rith.”

Iridia and Gin-rith looked up as Kaleb approached, “Take the reigns, Iridia,” Kaleb grunted and lifted Gin-rith up and over his shoulder.

“Kaleb, w-what you doing?”

“What must be done, you must rest.”

Gin-rith would not be able to struggle if he wanted, his body flopped over the mountain of a man and with that, they were running again at a faster pace. The trench stretched endlessly, with no break in its pattern and no bend or corner and bones cried from the necromantic alabaster ceiling, begging them to be saved.

A dim light came into sight from the end of the trench, it flickered and danced as they closed in. “What is that?” Iridia panted, still tugging the buck behind her.

“I cannot see, I am facing the wrong way,” said Gin-rith.

“A light at the end of the tunnel,” said Kaleb.

Gin-rith had no answer that carried any weight, “Perhaps, Irin-Mirith?”

The tunnel narrowed rapidly until they had to move single file and the light poured from the door-sized entryway. The buck's antlers scraped against the gritty mud walls. They pressed on through and came into a great circular chamber, in the centre a pit. Kaleb peered over the lip to see a great mass that broiled and spat smoke. A light danced beneath a translucent membrane, formless and shapeless as it shook and jiggled with irritation.

“I see no great tree,” said Iridia.

Gin-rith gently climbed down from Kaleb and looked into the pit, then gasped. “Th-this cannot be Irin-Mirith, I have seen him in my dreams, visions have come to me when we commune. This is but a node.”

“Gin-rith.” A voice with great bass reverberated through their chests and sounded as if it came from every direction at once. It spoke once more. “Gin-rith.”

“Who speaks my name?” Gin-rith stepped back and looked all around the room, it was bare but for the mass that quivered down below.

“The seed.” A root dropped from the blackness above and dangled a body wrapped up as a spider might a fly.

“What seed do you speak of?”

“You play with Irin-Mirith, ignorance is a fool's game, I desire the seed, Elf flesh.”

Gin-rith gave Kaleb a knowing look, who himself looked at the buck where the magical chest hung that contained the Dwarf seed.

Iridia held her spear up and prodded the hanging body to make it turn and swing, “It’s Flencer!”

The body was angrily yanked up and out of sight.

“The Dwarf is mine, the seed is mine.”

Gin-rith stepped forward. “The seed, I know of which you speak, you will release our friend. We will give you the seed.”

“You play more tricks upon Irin-Mirith.”

“No tricks, how could we possibly fool you? You are the life of our forest!”

Kaleb grabbed Gin-rith’s arm and pulled him beside him. “What is this? You speak without my blessing,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

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Gin-rith whispered back, “It desires the seed, not the sword. This is truly Irin-Mirith, but it is gravely corrupted. We must offer it something lest we all dangle from roots. Do you trust me?”

Kaleb released his arm, “I do…continue.”

Gin-rith walked around the pit slowly. “We will give you the seed, buried it is, fetch it we will, our freedom you will grant.”

The mass bubbled and formed itself into shapes that held bright patterns within, in its great wisdom it calculated the consequences with its probing roots that see all and know all, lashing with viney whips in the darkest corners where the most wretched secrets are contained. He bubbled again, finding no seed in its earth or upon the person of any party member. “I seek such a seed in my grounds, you hide nothing.”

“Your powers are great, but you cannot find a seed in your eternal acres, you have not that scope.”

Irin-Mirith rumbled, “The Dwarf offers me nothing, even as I torture him, great pleasure to me are his cries, he will tell me where the seed lays.”

“He will not for he does not know!” Gin-rith was spurred on by the bravery of the Dwarf, who was suffering through much torment and would not release the location of his seed, the source of his love. It seemed to Gin-rith that Paladins were not the only folk that harboured such legendary resilience. That resilience would soon subside however, Gin-rith needed to have him freed from the clasps quickly.

“How can he not? He is the holder of its secret.”

“We have cast a spell that will reveal to us the seed, we must cast it by the forest edge.”

“You seek to flee,”

“You can stop us anywhere, when we get to the edge, come Irin-Mirith, I will give you the seed.”

It roiled and rolled in the pit as it considered the offer, deals it was not fond of. Still, the seed it held in its mind's eye with an untameable lust, to have the spirit of the Elf grow from seed within so that he may enjoy the flesh and mind all the same of such a rare creature, it tantalised its core and put a quiver in its roots. “Very well.” Flencer was dropped and the roots around him loosened.

Iridia crouched beside him and pulled him free.

Kaleb frowned at Gin-rith, “What will we do when we get to the forest edge? when this thing comes for its side of the deal.”

Gin-rith smiled and nodded. “Let me keep my own secret, I assure you, my goal is to have you and your party free of this place, but some things we need to keep within. It will come at a cost though.”

Kaleb shook his head. Everything came at a cost now, he had decided to find Flencer and now he would pay the price of such freedom somewhere down the line.

“Ginny!” Iridia cried, “Something is wrong with, Flencer!”

Irin-Mith let out a low grumbling laughter as his light faded and the mass melted away, leaving a quite unremarkable hole behind.

Gin-rith crouched beside Flencer and inspected him. His forehead was dotted with green spots and the whites of his eyes were a milky-green. “Seems he has bound our deal with murder thorn.”

“What is that?”

“Affliction from the root, a disease that takes the life over time, Flencer has a few days to live if he is not cured.”

“Who can cure it?”

“Irin-Mirith.” Said Kaleb with a sardonic chuckle. “Am I wrong?”

Gin-rith sighed, “You are not wrong, but not all right, our botanists can save him.”

“We are too far away now, we cannot go back,”

“No, but they are hermits that live alone throughout the woods. Some are alive I know of it, I can send a message to them, but…”

“But what?” Iridia looked up at Gin-rith.

“They may not get the message, they may get the message and decide they care not.”

Kaleb stroked his beard, “If we take the deal to have Irin-Mirith cure Flencer, he will want the seed first,”

“Indeed, a tough decision.”

“This is not a tough decision, Flencer would rather die than lose that seed, we will take the chance on a cure.”

“What if he dies?” Iridia stood slowly.

“Then we continue the quest without him, I will deliver the seed to the Elves and tell them of his trials and what he did to make amends, perhaps it will help us gain entry into their kingdom.”

Gin-rith shushed them. “Silence, speak in hushed tones.”

Iridia nodded and looked back at Flencer. “He is still.”

“He won’t move until cured, we should put him on the buck, for over your shoulder…you two seem to be of similar strength.”

Kaleb shrugged, “We need to get out of here first.”

“I can help with that,” Gin-rith raised his staff, roots coiled around their ankles and the hoofs of the buck.”

“What is going on?”

“Take up, Flencer, Kaleb.”

Quickly, Kaleb bent and hauled him over one shoulder, the short fat man was denser than he looked.

The roots pushed up and lifted the party, like the stilt walkers in the great circus they stood high until their heads hit the soil and bone above. The roots then shot up with great power, pushing them through the bone and mud. Their mouths filled with earth, not Gin-rith’s, for he knew what to expect. Like seedlings watered, they sprouted from the ground with a gasp and pulled themselves from the dirt like an undead creature awakened from death slumber.

“Ugh!” Iridia spat mud out and wiped at her tongue. “Why didn’t you warn us?”

Gin-rith chuckled. “Too many questions if I do.”

Kaleb came out last with Flencer, he pushed him off and coughed. “Right, I’ve had enough of this bloody forest!” He led on his back and looked up. “The sky.”

“Indeed,” said Gin-rith, “Seems we travelled out of the cave, or the cave was never really there…”

The party re-organised, ensuring everything was accounted for and flopping Flencer over the bucks back. “How long does, Flencer have?”

“Usually a week, but it can vary.” Gin-rith cocked his head: “Many do not live through this, even with the aid of our botanists, but..” Gin-rith thought, “A man, a Human I once met, he told me great wisdom when we played a game at an old inn, he said; always roll the dice when it presents itself, this is one of those moments.”

“Roll away,” said Kaleb as he wiped dirt from his knees without much success.

Gin-rith stabbed his staff into the soil and cupped his hands around his mouth, he raised and called with a deep squawk. The trees went swayed in the breeze and Gin-rith waited with hands on hips. He looked over the party and cleared his throat, “Sometimes it takes a moment.”

Kaleb raised his eyebrows at Iridia and she shrugged.

After a minute, the branches above fluttered with life and a vibrant blue bird swooped down and landed elegantly on the tip of Gin-rith’s staff. “I will have it fly to the botanists, I will request they meet us by the Al-Ridith well spot.”

“What is that?”

“A crumbling temple outside the control of this forest, you will find it off the road, atop a hill,”

“You can show us?”

“In case I can’t.” Gin-rith smiled and then whispered to the bird before sending it flapping away. “For now, I must find where we are in this wood, we haven’t much time.”