Chapter 02

“We all find our courage when we least expect it,” Svala joked good-naturedly, giving her armour and weapons a final inspection. She eyed Markus and was clearly bemused, “Though if I had put coin on it, my purse would be the lighter for it now.” Smirking, Svala muttered something else too quietly for him to hear.

Markus could still run. Svala had what she wanted, so he doubted she would mind all that much. “I can do this.” The thoughts came as unbidden as the words he had spoken earlier, as alien to his mind as another's own voice, “I have strength they do not possess.”

Markus felt his mind slip for a moment, his eyes bearing witness to an inky black void. A woman's cries of pain and anguish echoing in his ears, growing fainter with each breath. His arms felt a sensation beyond agony, like a great weight was bearing down on them and trying to crush him.

“I-can-do-this!” Each word was an effort beyond imagining, Markus’s chest struggling to find air to give life to the words.

Just as suddenly as the vision had taken hold, he was released from it.

“Coward.” The thought was thoroughly his own, Markus knew this with a certainty that both relieved and shamed him in equal measure. To have another's thoughts in your mind, masquerading as your own, bred an unease he had no desire to feel ever again.

The stranger was technically right, as an Artificer, Markus had one strength the previous party did not. Sigils and glyphs could turn the tide of even the most desperate situations, though he lacked the experience necessary to know how best to use them. He should have prepared better before they left the town, an oversight Markus sincerely hoped he would not repeat again.

All told, there was not much he could do to help fortify Aela and Svala’s arms and armour, lacking the time and tools to make etchings and inscriptions required for his Artifice to function efficiently.

Doing the best he was able, Markus carved crude but functional glyphs of durability into Aela’s pollaxe and Svala’s pair of bearded axes, investing them with as much mana as he could manage. Which admittedly was not all that considerable, given the poor glyph work and low mana conductivity of the base materials.

Svala had waved off Markus’s offer to quickly etch glyphs of absorption into her lamellar, preferring that he instead ward Aela’s armour.

Aela’s gambeson was more difficult by far, and Markus had to settle for staining its surface with blood from his right index finger. This made the glyphs far larger than he would normally have preferred, but there was little to be done about it.

The wards on the gambeson soaked up his mana like a sponge, exceeding his dubious expectations to such a degree that he wondered if it was the glyph size that made the difference, or whether it was his blood. Markus had never used his own blood to make the markings before, but he made a mental note to test it further at a later time.

Having spent roughly five minutes on this additional preparation, Markus could think of no further reasons to delay. Approaching the doors of the dungeon with as much confidence as he could manage, then pulled the right side open and stepped to the side, allowing the chimaeras to enter first.

The dungeon's opening corridor was constructed of rough-hewn stone, more than fifty feet deep, thirty feet tall, twenty feet wide and dimly lit by an emerald paned lantern hanging off one of four hooks to the right side of the entrance doorway.

Aela took point, stalwartly pushing forward beyond the lantern's light, Svala a dozen steps behind her.

Mustering what little of his courage could be found, Markus took the remaining lantern from its hook, tentatively carrying it in his right hand as he hurried after them.

The passage continued perhaps another few hundred feet or more before they encountered a large metal banded stone door.

Aela and Svala had waited for Markus to catch them up.

The reflected light in Svala’s eyes was deeply unsettling in the half-light and shadows cast by the lantern. An unwelcome reminder that for all intents and purposes, Markus had entered a dungeon with two monsters.

“There is something on the other side,” Svala whispered, “It is alone so far as we can tell, we are not sure what it is, but we can smell blood."

Aela nodded in agreement, "Blood and rot."

“Two bodies, one corpse and something else,” Svala wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Reeks of death,” she spat as if she had tasted something foul. “Best be wary and keep your distance."

“R-right,” Markus agreed, his ephemeral courage evaporating by the moment, “I’ll open the door on three then?”

Svala and Aela nodded, each gripping their weapons tightly and bracing themselves to rush into the room beyond.

“One,” Markus took hold of the door’s iron door handle, “T-two,” he stammered, bunching his arm muscles and trying to steady his breathing, “Three!” Markus pulled the door wide, its surprising lack of resistance causing him to lose his footing momentarily.

All the same, Aela nearly leapt through the doorway, a guttural growl escaping her lips as she surged forward with her pollaxe readied to strike.

With a savage snarl, Svala followed her, a half step behind at most.

Before Markus had even mustered the nerve to follow, he could hear the clash of steel and crunching of bone accompanied by northern curses.

Lantern raised high and drawing his sword, Markus was just in time to see sparks fly as Aela decapitated an armoured figure with a savage sweeping blow.

The figure spasmed a moment and fell to the ground with a loud clatter or abused metal plates.

Aela and Svala relaxed somewhat, each now taking in their surroundings and having a heated yet muted discussion.

The chamber was immense. The smooth flagstone floor stretched out beyond the lantern light, and robust pillars towered up into the darkness above like trees of stone.

Markus unconsciously drifted closer to the chimaeras. The unknown dangers lying in wait beyond sight slowly taking shape in his mind. Not two paces from the doorway, he tripped but managed to right himself. Turning to see what he had tripped over, Markus felt his breath catch in his throat, thankful for the reflex as he probably would have cried out like a child.

The mutilated remains of a human corpse lay sprawled by the doorway, one arm cloven free of the body and a savage cut near separating the ribcage from its abdomen. Somehow, the face was largely untouched and revealed he was a young man close to Markus's own age. However, dried blood caked his chin and mouth, and his eyes were frozen wide in terror.

The emerald light of the lantern only served to make the scene all the more unsettling. The armoured robes and shattered stave that lay nearby made it obvious which adventurer had met this fate. It was Garrus Lambert, the second level Mage. Garrus’s equipment would likely be useless now, the dungeon leeching their unprotected magics, assuming he had any on him to begin with. Even his identification would be little more than a thin sheet of mundane crystal now.

Gingerly rifling through the scattered contents of the dead man's torn pack, Markus found a coin purse and pair of six-sided carved bone playing dice. The rest was either damaged by the blow that killed him, or by soaking in his blood.

Stowing these items in his own backpack, Markus approached the creature Aela had felled. Nearly gagging, he had to press one sleeve against his nose to sufficiently subdue the fetid aroma to draw close enough to see the monster clearly.

It was a bloated, pale-skinned corpse. Its thick limbs and stomach swollen with decay, sickly glistening skin pressing painfully around ill-fitting plate armour at least a half size too small for its new corpulence. The wicked two-handed cleaver laying nearby had doubtless been the weapon that had nearly hewn the Mage in half.

Markus didn't understand, so far as he knew, creatures created by the dungeon would rapidly disintegrate on death. The process usually took about a half-hour as the dungeon reclaimed the mana it had used to create the creature in the first place to create yet another creature to replace it. He had never heard of creatures decaying and certainly not so quickly. It had been less than a minute since Aela had slain it, so why then had it bloated like a dead pig in the summer sun?

“Draug,” Svala said matter of factly, clearly understanding Markus' puzzlement. “Walking corpse, a revenant,” she spat and rolled the head of the creature towards him.

Similarly distended and bloated, the creature's face was grotesque to behold, but the decay had only contributed so much. It was an orc. With a sloping forehead and flat nearly skull-like nose, they largely resembled bipedal apes.

“Hard to kill,” Svala continued, gesturing to the deep cuts and puncture wounds scattered across the creature's body. “Cutting the head off seems to work-” She paused a moment, her ears twitching in response to something Markus couldn't hear “-there are more ahead, but they do not seem to be coming for us-"

"Two more corpses nearby and something else," Aela interrupted, her overlong and narrow tongue darting between her lips and retracting as she gazed out into the darkness.

"Are you sure?" Svala looked concerned and had taken a half dozen steps away from the Draug corpse and begun taking deep breaths through her nose, turning this way and that.

"Yes," Aela replied simply, her grip tightening on the pollaxe in her hands and her tail slowly writhing across the stone floor like a snake.

She was clearly agitated and Markus found her sudden need for caution more than a little unnerving. “At least they could leave if things turned bad enough,” he thought.

Turning to regard the doorway out, Markus’s blood turned to ice water in his veins as he watched the door swiftly swing shut of its own accord, its hinges as silent and smooth as when he had first opened it. “No no no no” Markus pleaded, rushing the door and trying to push it back open. Dropping The lantern and throwing his full weight against it proved equally futile, “Damnit!" Markus pounded his fist against the door. “It was a trap!” How could he have been so stupid? This deception was so common that he had no excuse besides his own recklessness for having fallen for it.

“Problem?” Svala asked, her voice clearly sympathetic. She had taken position next to him and given the door a shove of her own, “I suspected as much," Svala commented with a perfunctory nod.

Markus bit back a cutting retort and morosely considered their circumstances.

“We can't leave without destroying the heart,” Svala said matter of factly. She sighed and took hold of Markus’s shoulder, turning him to face her, “This changes very little.” She smiled wanly, “We planned to destroy the heart to begin with, and there were no other passages to take."

Svala was right of course, but it was difficult for Markus to suppress the rising fear and foreboding that the denied exit entailed. “Do or die?” He thought morosely “Victory or death.” Given his fighting skills, Markus did not like the options presented to him, particularly since he was far more confident in his ability to flee danger than confront it. “You’re right-” Markus admitted, sighing deeply. “-It’s just one thing to think it-” He glanced sidelong at the door “-and another entirely to experience it."

Svala smiled, “Come now, my daughter is anxious to press on,” she was right of course, Aela was practically champing at the bit. Pacing back and forth muttering to herself while giving Svala impatient glances. Which was odd, since Markus was the reason for their delayed progress. "I'll be fifty steps ahead, Please let me know when it moves" Svala said to Aela with a slight edge to her tone, then walked forward towards the edge of the light.

Aela moved back beside Markus, her impatience seemingly dissipated with this simple change in activity.

“Shouldn't we stick together?” Markus asked, worried by what he had seen of the Mage's remains and how that would impact his long term survival.

Aela shook her head matter of factly, her tongue continuing to dart out and in again every few seconds.

“So we just wait here?” Markus wasn't even sure she understood what he was saying, but the questions helped keep his anxiety down for the time being at least.

Aela nodded but still said nothing.

A handful of minutes passed by in silence. The only sound was a faint hissing as Aela’s tongue tasted the air. She frowned and glanced at Markus, then back out into the gloom.

“Did something happen?” Markus asked, disturbed that he had not heard anything and only now considered the possibility that it was also bad since he had not heard Svala either.

“Nein...No,” Aela shook her head and glanced at him again “That-is-problem,” she appeared to be chewing her words, working her jaw while trying to decide what to say, “Monster-not-hunting-us."

Markus was relieved but still felt concerned for Svala, who was still disturbingly absent, “What about your mother?” He asked worriedly.

Aela stared at him intently, “Is-not-hunting-us,” she gestured to herself, then into the darkness past Markus's shoulder, “Is-hunting-you." Aela sounded annoyed, her demeanour positively bristling with hostility. Perhaps because whatever this thing was saw Markus as the greater threat and that wounded her northern pride.

Markus didn't like the idea of being so close to her when she was so emotionally compromised. However, the knowledge of a creature out beyond the lantern light actively hunting him down was far more of a concern.

“Come,” Aela hissed, gesturing for Markus to follow, “We-move-now."

The sound of Aela’s tail sliding along behind them was beginning to wear on Markus’s fraying nerves. It was taking a great deal of mental discipline to not constantly turn and look behind them every couple of seconds. As strange as it was, the faint rhythmic thumping sound ahead of them had become a pleasant distraction, if only because he was now able to fixate on something else.

Aela exhaled sharply, "You're kidding me," she said, shaking her head and kneading her forehead with her free hand in annoyance.

Confused and a little alarmed, Markus tried squinting to see what had caused the outburst but couldn’t see anything but the darkness. Before he could ask Aela directly, Svala rejoined them. Apparently, she had been flanking their progress beyond the light of the lantern to Markus's right.

"That's a lot of draugr," Aela said, clearly talking to her mother and ignoring Markus.

Svala nodded, "I count over fifty smaller draugr and one huge draug." she sighed, "This won't be easy."

Aela smiled, "You're getting old," her tone and expression clearly conveying mischief and amusement, even if Markus couldn't understand the words themselves.

Svala snarled and bared her teeth as a soft growl rumbled from her throat.

Aela cowed her head in response but did not stop smiling.

Seemingly satisfied, Svala huffed and addressed Markus, “There are many Draugr ahead. They seem to be trying to break through a door.” She frowned, “But they appear to have little urgency or intent, only striking it with their fists, many of them appear to now have little more than mutilated stumps. There is a larger Draug as well, it should easily be strong enough to batter the door down on its own, but it stands apart from the others-” Seeing the question take shape in Markus’s mind, Svala shook her head and continued, “-the hunter is not a Draug,” she paused, clearly trying to find the right words, “The hunter is something else, it is not rotten and slow like these Draugr. It has been evading detection from my daughter and me since we entered this room, which is most unsettling, particularly since its focus is upon you. Hunting something that should already be preoccupied and focused is normally quite simple, easy even.” Svala furrowed her brow and scanned the darkness around them, “But it evades us even now."

“It-circles-us,” Aela said “Past-sight-silent.” Unlike her mother, Aela had not lowered her voice at all, seemingly uncaring of nearby Draugr and the creature that hunted them overhearing her.

“So what do we do?” Markus asked in a voice far more steady and confident than he felt a right to be. “The creature seems to be waiting for its best chance-” He shuddered, recognising the trap for what it was, “-when we try and break through the Draugr to save the Priest."

Svala nodded gravely “Most likely. Even if I skirmish with the Draugr alone, there is no guarantee that it would not take this as its best chance at an ambush,” she sighed, “There is no good choice to make here."

Markus had to agree, the mounting dread and foreboding he felt would soon turn to panic if they didn’t do something. Just waiting around in the open like this was making it worse. “What if we approached the door with the wall to one side of us?” Markus ventured hopefully, “At least then it can only come at us from three directions instead of four,” his words sounded desperately optimistic to his own ears all the same.

Aela pointed upward, “Five."

A fresh wave of dread settled on Markus with such crushing weight he almost fell to his knees. She was right, he had been ignoring the yawning abyss above them, and that sudden realization brought with it a cascade of terror fueled nightmares into focus. Slavering jaws, distended and twisted limbs reaching for him with malicious glee. It took all the willpower Markus could muster to stop looking upward, his illusory phantoms still playfully darting to and fro just out of sight.

“I agree-” Svala’s confidence gave Markus the steadying anchor he so desperately needed right now, “If we stick close to the wall, it will at least limit the opportunity for ambush and serve to limit the theatre of battle with the Draugr to a more manageable front.” She pointed to her daughter, “Aela will serve as the vanguard, disrupting their limited cohesion and providing us with the opportunity to cull stragglers on her flanks.” Svala then pointed to Markus, “Do not stray more than a half dozen paces from my side. This strategy limits our exposure, but the Draugr may yet overwhelm you all the same.” Her words weren't condescending, but they stung Markus’s pride all the same. “Engage only what draws too close and keep the light back from harm."

Markus felt a fresh wave of embarrassment, somewhat refreshing in comparison to the mounting dread and terror he had felt just moments prior. There was no specific reason they needed to protect the lantern at all, the possibility of the creature being able to manipulate the lantern as part of the ambush was more than likely at this point.

Two lantern hooks by the entrance had been vacant, probably taken by the previous party, and he had not seen any other sources of light since they had entered this cavernous hall. A fresh shiver ran down Markus’s spine, his complacency could have caused the three of them to meet the same fate. While most chimaeras saw many times better than humans in dim light, precious few could see in the absence of light altogether. If the lantern had been damaged or extinguished, Aela and Svala likely would be just as blind as he was.

Markus put the lantern down and drew his carving knife. “Do you mind?” He asked Svala, reaching for one of the small bone trophies woven into her hair.

Curious, Svala obliged, bowing low so Markus could reach. “What are you doing?” She sounded equally confused and concerned.

Markus sighed, “Something I should have done before we entered the dungeon.” Working quickly, the glyph was carved in less than a couple of seconds, concentrating on the glyph and seeding it with the requisite mana, precious little was needed, only serving to feed his embarrassment at the oversight. No longer trusting the lantern and having limited use for it at the moment, Markus shed his cloak and bundled the lantern with it, leaving both on the ground, where perhaps later he would retrieve his cloak if all went well. A pale silvery glow like moonlight slowly expanded from the glyph, replacing the now absent emerald light of the lantern. “A light,” Markus offered as an unnecessary explanation.

“Ah, a good idea,” Svala nodded in agreement, “I was concerned about the lanterns as well,” she gestured to his bundled cloak, “We have limited torches should the need arise, but I had not known you could provide us with light."

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Markus blushed, “I kinda forgot since there was a lantern already."

Svala's mood sobered somewhat, “That, I think, was the point."

Markus now felt less embarrassed by the oversight, “The first trap wasn't the door after all."

Svala nodded but was preoccupied by reweaving the trophy's leather cord into a more central position in her braid work.

Fishing his canteen out of his pack and tying its strap onto his sword belt, Markus quickly etched the glyph for light into its base and imbued the glyph with mana. Soon The canteen shone with the same ghostly light as Svala’s trophy. Digging through his pack again to find something for Aela to use, he did not really have anything small or robust enough to avoid becoming a liability in combat.

Aela gave Markus a small shove to get his attention, “Can-do-this?” She asked. Aela had removed her arming belt, proffering a dagger’s sheath specifically for his inspection.

It would prove adequate, most likely a similar efficiency and capacity as her mother's trophy, which is to say poor but sufficient for their purposes. “Should do fine,” Markus replied, taking the belt and carving the glyph into the sheath. “Better materials would provide more light and last longer, but these should be fine,” he explained as he worked, the leather was trickier to work with than the metal or bone had been. “These two-” He nodded to Svala and then the dagger sheath he was working on, “-should last about an hour, maybe two at most before I need to recharge them. My canteen should probably last three to four hours.” Markus sighed worriedly, “I think.” He had never used anything but common river rocks before, so he had little way of being sure about any of it, besides a general gut feeling of intuition.

“More than adequate,” Svala replied, slowly pacing farther away from them, seemingly trying to determine the distance of her own light source. “Interesting,” she said, clearly bemused, “Your canteen sheds more light than the lantern."

Just about done with the last light source, Markus looked up and was surprised to find she was right. He was now able to clearly see about half as far again as the lantern had allowed, roughly seventy-five feet in each direction. Handing the arming belt back to Aela, Markus felt his heart skip a beat as she thanked him with one of her terrifyingly toothy smiles. Quickly looking anywhere else to better assuage his nerves, he saw Svala’s grim expression darkening as she looked upwards into the darkness with her luminous eyes.

"This is good and bad," Svala muttered, clearly displeased by something.

"What do you think?" Aela asked, finishing cinching her belt and following her mother's gaze, "Oh," Aela said, clearly surprised, her eyes narrowing, "That makes sense now."

“What is it?” Markus asked, although he was deeply conflicted over whether he actually thought it best to know.

"Must be a giant spider to do all of this," Aela muttered glancing at Markus, her expression darkening as she looked away again.

“Webs,” Svala said matter of factly, still looking upward, “Large webs, a lot of them too."

Markus gulped hard, “H-how big exactly?” He felt he already knew the answer, but a desperate hope drove him onward all the same.

“Big enough,” Svala replied flatly, “Second biggest I have seen,” her expression grew more dour.

"Like twenty years ago?" Aela asked, her voice quavering slightly, though not in fear as Markus had expected, but in what seemed to be restrained anger.

Svala shook her head slightly, "Yes, and we are fewer in number and less prepared." Walking over to Aela, she took hold of her daughter and pressed their foreheads together and locked eyes with her, “My precious daughter, do not give in to anger,” she paused briefly, taking a step back "We fight together, never alone." Svala drew Aela into a tight embrace.

Aela noticeably relaxxed, returning the embrace with equal vigor, "I know mother, I just get so angry when I think about what happened."

Svala rocked Aela for a few moments, whispering quietly to her. After a minute or so, the pair separated from each other and Markus had difficulty in determining if either of them had been upset in the first place, both of them now stoic as statues.

Aela led them forward on their new heading, and it didn't take long for the wall to loom into view. Walking parallel and a half dozen paces from the wall, the first of the Draugr horde was illuminated by their encroaching silver light. The overwhelming majority of them were short and emaciated with overlong arms that dragged the ground. Despite their bulbous eyes and large batlike ears, they seemed to possess vastly inferior senses, just as Svala had said. The goblin Draugr did not respond to the light or from Aela and Markus’s booted footfalls.

The thumping sounds had grown louder now, they were probably a hundred feet or thereabouts from its source, the sound also likely distracting the Draugr in the vicinity. It was not until Aela stood within two dozen paces of the closest Draug, and the horde was fully illuminated, that it had turned, released a gurgling moan and begun shambling towards her with deceptive speed. A half dozen other Draugr joined the creature a few moments later.

Holding her ground, Aela readied her pollaxe for a wide sweeping arc. As the Draug stepped within range, Aela took a step forward and to the side, the blade of her pollaxe cleaving through the Draug’s neck and into its shoulder. Reversing her grip, Aela flexed and stepped forward again, freeing the pollaxe from the first Draug and crashing the hammer into the next Draug’s rotten skull with a wet crunch. The draug grew limp and began weighing the pollaxe down in his grip, so Aela gave it a vicious kick to the chest, sending its remains sprawling into the path of its fellows.

More Draugr were approaching now, clearly excited by the cries of their fellows. Even those closest to the door began disentangling themselves and shambling in their direction.

Markus only had a moment to appreciate that the door they had been beating upon was little more than nailed wooden boards, not even reinforced with metal bands. “This is such a trap,” he thought ruefully, holding his sword at the ready with both hands to better steel his nerves.

As anticipated, Draugr had been slipping past Aela as Svala had predicted, a combination of split-interest and the not too gentle coaxing of Aela’s booted heel.

Svala laid into the first with a vicious backhanded blow that clove through the Draug’s cranium and sent it spinning off and into the wall. With a savage grin on her lips, Svala howled and leapt at her next target, deftly dodging to the side and batting the Draug’s weapon away with her left axe, and shearing through its neck with her right. While not deep enough to sever the neck entirely, the Draug’s head flopped back and the creature collapsed to the ground and lay still.

The number of bodies in Aela’s wake was growing by the moment. Most of the Draugr were too slow, poorly coordinated and primitively armoured to stand against her. Their superior numbers rapidly succumbed to Aela’s vicious attentions, either having their heads split open, bashed in or impaled by the spike of her pollaxe as they tripped or stumbled over fallen kin. A couple of Draug that had slipped past her guard had struck at Aela with their rusted blades, but failed to penetrate her gambeson, leaving only rust-brown streaks across its surface.

Expecting to have a similarly easy fight, Markus was caught off guard as the lone Draug Svala had left him to contend with, proved far more difficult to dispatch than he realized. Missing its left arm and wielding nothing but a short chipped blade, Markus had thought to outflank it and take its head from its shoulders. Sidestepping the Draug had been easy, as it was clumsy and slow to react to his sudden burst of movement. Swinging as hard as he could at the creature's neck, Markus nearly dropped his sword as it impacted jarringly on the Draug’s spine and became stuck.

The Draug rounded on Markus, or it tried too, its body turning to face him, while its head and neck looked roughly ninety degrees to his left. The Draug began swinging wildly in Markus' general direction, coming thankfully short of its mark each time. With no time to spare, he yanked hard on his sword, but it wouldn't give, only serving to drag the attached Draug closer.

Svala moved in close, catching the Draug with the back of her axe, crushing the back of its neck and freeing his blade. Without stopping, she moved on to one of Aela’s stragglers.

Thoroughly embarrassed and desperate to prove himself, Markus brought his heel down hard on the Draug’s head, his heel crushing through the side of its skull with a wet crunch. Suppressing the urge to be violently ill, Markus did his best to stick close to Svala, now more than happy to let her deal with them free of his interference.

With less than a dozen Draugr remaining, Markus was stunned into inaction as a giant Draug lumbered into the fray seemingly from nowhere. It must have been hidden behind one of the pillars, waiting for its best chance to charge Aela. The giant Draug stood over twelve feet tall, armed with a brutal pike and armoured in loose-fitting iron plates, both caked with gore.

Svala holstered her bearded axes and drew better-weighted throwing axes. Taking only a handful of heartbeats to aim, she let them fly one after the other, both axes ricocheting off the giant Draug’s crude helmet with a shower of sparks. Showing no signs of disappointment in the ineffectiveness of her weapons, Svala repeated the attack, throwing another pair of axes at the creature’s head again, meeting the same result.

The giant Draug was nearly in striking distance of Aela now, its pike levelled straight at her, a gurgling rumble erupting from its throat as it roared in anticipation for the kill.

Svala let fly her final pair of throwing axes, impacting the Draug’s helmet just as it made to strike Aela.

As her mother's axes struck the giant Draug’s helmet, Aela leapt to the side and in the same motion cast one of the half dozen remaining Draug into the space she had just vacated.

The Giant Draug’s pike clove through its smaller kin like it was paper, impacting the stone floor with a cacophonous boom and with enough force that the remaining draugr lost their footing and fell to the ground.

Still moving, Aela rushed in close, slamming the hammer of her Pollaxe into the Draug’s unprotected ankle with a satisfying crack, before disengaging from the beast, rejoining Svala and Markus. "His head is too high, I can't get to him effectively through this helmet." She hissed at Svala.

Svala nodded, giving her axes a quick twirl, "Watch over our employer, I'll take care of it." She grinned and charged towards the giant Draug, who was only now freeing its pike from the broken flagstones.

“Is-okay,” Aela said, clearly sensing Markus’s concern, “Kill-many-giants,” She smiled wide and gave him a thumbs-up, “Is-expert!"

“Yeah, okay...” Was all Markus could manage, again driven to look anywhere but those teeth. “Oh shit!” Fuelled more by terror than bravery, Markus let go of his sword and dove at Aela, sending the pair of them crashing to the ground and tumbling away as a thick net of webbing slammed into the ground where they had just been standing.

Aela shoved Markus off her so roughly it knocked the wind out of him and he was left gasping on the floor, looking up in horror as a many-legged horror rapidly descended from above.

"It is here!" Aela cried out, picking up her pollaxe in her right hand, grabbing the front of Markus gambeson with her left and half dragging him to his feet as she rapidly put distance between them and the creature.

The creature resembled a black shelled spider, its eight eyes glinting a malevolent crimson. The spider was huge, with a leg span of easily thirty feet or more. Adjusting its trajectory, the nightmare spider swung itself with deceptive agility and anchored onto a nearby pillar, from which it made significantly faster progress climbing to the ground.

Finally able to think straight, Markus took hold of Aela’s arm and pulled himself the rest of the way onto his feet, reaching for his sword, only to remember that he had dropped it earlier.

“Stay-back,” Aela said disapprovingly, “Not-safe,” she also seemed to have noticed the absence of his sword. “Take,” she drew her dagger and motioned for him to take it.

“Thanks...” Markus said, unsure of what exactly Aela expected him to accomplish with it. There was no way this knife would manage anything against a beast that size.

The pair of them half cowered from the giant spider as it made its approach. Now on the ground, it seemed to be in little hurry, slowly stalking forwards, foul ichor dripping from its fangs, its gaze unwavering.

“Just-wait,” Aela said, “Stay-back." Markus had half expected her to move forward to engage the beast, but she remained by his side clenching and unclenching her jaw.

“Maybe we should circle around to Svala?” Markus suggested perhaps a little too earnestly.

Aela shook her head, “Will-move-faster,” she rolled her shoulders to ease some of the tension, “Giant-Draug-standing."

It was true, Markus could still hear the vicious melee from their current position and had to concede that the only thing worse than fighting this spider, was fighting the giant Draug and Spider at the same time. “Is there anything we can do?” It was proving difficult to keep the panic from his voice and he had no idea if he had succeeded to any passable degree.

“No,” Aela replied flatly, her certainty nearly sapping the last of his fleeting courage.

There had to be something, anything, it would be on them in no time at all and all he had was a dagger. “No, that isn't true,” Markus thought, pulling the heat-stone free of his gambeson. He set to his task, a scattered mess of runes taking shape around the central glyph.

Aela suddenly lurched backward, knocking Markus off his feet and sending the dagger and heat-stone skittering across the floor.

Thick webbing spattered against the pillar that had been behind them, faint wisps of smoke trailing from where the web made contact with the stone. There was an inhuman screech, then the sound of many chitinous legs skittering across the flagstones.

Aela rounded the opposite side of the pillar just in time to jab the spider in one of its ruby eyes.

Screeching again, it lashed out with one of its forelegs, easily sweeping Aela off her feet and sending her tumbling backwards. Letting out a malevolent hiss, the spider closed in for the kill, its mandibles raised and exposing a fanged maw.

Barely able to think, Markus scrambled back from it, terror lending him strength and vigour he had never felt himself capable of, near matching pace with the creature. Unable to maintain the rapid pace, Markus slipped as his right hand lost purchase on a loose stone. Driven by desperation, the primitive survival instincts had taken over, death imminent and escape otherwise impossible, buying milliseconds was equivalent in value to decades. Snatching up the stone, he threw it at the monstrous spider. The stone impacted with a wet squelch and the spider screeched in pain, thrashing and nearly impaling him.

Scrambling away, Markus searched frantically for a place to hide. Aela began charging past him. To his own surprise, but so far gone from the point of conscious thought that he barely noticed, Markus grappled Aela, his terror fuelled strength overpowering her and dragging her along with him as he fled.

The spiders screeching and the sounds of its manic skittering echoed through the chamber, the foul stench of burning flesh filling the air.

Aela seemed to have overcome her surprise, halting Markus's flight and pinning him against a nearby pillar.

All at once, the strength had fled his limbs, leaving them leaden and cold. Aela was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't focus, the same words crashing through his mind over and over “ESCAPE!, ESCAPE!, ESCAPE!"

Aela slapped Markus across the face, hard.

The blow left Markus’s left ear ringing, and his jaw painfully numb, but had also somewhat quieted his mind.

“We-move!” Aela stated bluntly, half dragging Markus as he tried to keep his legs moving in the right direction.

Moving past the pillar that concealed them, Markus could see the spider again. It was bucking and thrashing, tar-black smoke billowing from its head as it crashed into a nearby pillar. Dumbstruck, Markus hardly noticed as Aela released him.

“Stay,” Aela commanded, hefting her pollaxe and darting out of his line of sight.

For two whole minutes, Markus watched the spider thrash and crash through the hall, its movements becoming more sluggish and unstable. Misstepping and falling in a crumpled heap with greater frequency as time passed. At first, he had been worried that it was searching for him to seek vengeance, but its progress was too chaotic, having only made twenty or so feet of progress in his direction during that whole time.

After another minute, the spider had collapsed and not gotten back up. The sounds of combat with the giant Draug had similarly grown silent. Loathe as Markus was to let it out of his sight, the thought of being alone was worse. Reluctantly turning away from the spider, Markus briskly walked in the direction of Svala and Aela’s muted voices.

"-threw a stone in the eye," Aela hissed, there was a long silence before she spoke again, "It's the truth! I only stabbed it once! " Aela vehemently insisted just as Markus stepped around the last pillar. Aela glared once more at her mother in sullen silence.

Svala looked Markus up and down, perhaps reevaluating her opinion of him, or maybe just assessing his level of combat fatigue. When she spoke, she addressed neither, all business as usual, “The giant Draug is dead, as are the few Draugr stragglers. We should be able to take a look at that door now."

“Right,” Markus agreed, all too willing to get this traumatic experience over with.

The three of them approached the door, and true to the original assessment, it was nothing special. A simple wooden door constructed with planks and nails, a large iron ring serving as its door handle, with no sign of the hinges, they had to assume it was a push door. Contrary to what they had expected, the door was quite clean and showed no signs of recent damage despite the Draugr beating upon it. It was strange enough to give them pause, unsure of what magic lay upon the door to have so perfectly preserved it.

Aela was the first of them to lose patience, taking hold of the door handle and giving the door a solid shove, she nearly lost her footing as the door swung open easily and her momentum carried her over the threshold.

The chamber beyond was quite small, no more than ten by twenty feet at most, the ceiling a little over ten feet high. It was austere, reminiscent of a prison cell, with no windows or doors besides the one they had opened. A young woman in blood-stained clerical vestments and breastplate, lay unmoving by the far wall, a splintered stave in her right hand.

“Check her,” Svala said to Aela.

Aela obliged, kneeling down beside the body and putting two fingers to her throat to check for a pulse. “Alive,” Aela reported, easily bundling the young woman up and bringing her into the larger chamber. Laying her down on the ground, Aela then stepped back to allow her mother to make an assessment.

The young woman was pale but showed no signs of physical injury. She was about Markus's age, maybe a couple of years older, about twenty-three years or so if he had to guess. She had delicate features and a thin perhaps even frail figure, her raven black hair was cut almost boyishly short, but it somehow suited her.

Svala first applied light pressure to the woman's sides, most likely checking to see if she had any broken ribs. Next checking her arms and legs, collarbone, abdomen, hips. She had given a thoughtful pause when checking the woman's right leg but had said nothing, so it was probably not important. “There is nothing physically wrong with her,” Svala announced, “So she is probably under the effects of mana exhaustion."

Exhausting one's mana supply could be dangerous, similar to the body's own energy supply, low mana levels would fatigue the body or even cause it to collapse into a coma. As someone who worked with mana, Markus was all too familiar with the effects.

Svala withdrew the fine cord around the woman's neck, revealing her adventurer’s identification tablet. Svala read the name aloud, “Zoe Chavare,” she smirked, “It looks like we have found our priest."

Markus sighed in relief, that was one thing dealt with. “Now we just have to destroy the dungeon heart, wherever that is.” He just wanted to leave already and forget about the giant spider and shambling corpses. “How should we do this?” Markus asked Svala. while finding Zoe was great in that it completed one of their objectives, they couldn't close the dungeon without finding the heart, and Zoe’s deadweight was going to make that more difficult.

“Should be simple,” Svala said, “It is not uncommon for large chambered dungeons such as this one to conceal the heart within its strongest creatures.” she kicked the corpse of the giant Draug, “I already checked this one.”

The Draug’s head had been hacked open, its brain matter splatter roundabout, clearly showing how thorough Svala had been in her search. Similarly, it was split chest to groin, its multitude of putrified organs heaped around it. She had been very thorough indeed.

“We can watch the bounty while Aela destroys the heart,” Svala seemed quite insistent on that point.

Markus had no reason to argue, so he shrugged and set about looking for his sword. It wasn't too hard to find, in a half trance while channelling his mana, he only needed to walk towards the tiny beacon of its glyph. It lay amongst the remains of small Draug, its edge still as sharp as it had been before, though its mana reserve was slightly depleted.

Markus made a mental note to practice a great deal more on his swordsmanship before he next entered a dungeon. His martial contributions in this endeavour were laughable to put it kindly. Similarly, Markus’s leadership had also left a great deal to be desired. Constantly deferring to Svala may have been the smart thing to do, making use of her evident experience and skill, but it had also been the easy way out. If Markus didn’t start taking charge, it would only become more difficult as time passed.

Most of Markus’s apprehension in taking charge lay in his inexperience, or so he hoped. The only way to address this was to learn as much as he could while the opportunities existed. To that end, Markus resolved to witness the destruction of the dungeon heart first hand, even though the very thought of approaching the spider's corpse filled him with dread. Despite the course of action he had decided upon, Markus found himself dragging his feet, literally, as the combination of fatigue and fear slowed his steps considerably.

Aela had already reached the spider's remains and was preparing an overhead blow to cleave its head open. As she was about to swing, Aela noticed Markus approaching and stopped, lowering her pollaxe. “Why-here?” She asked, a little nervously, her free hand absently drifting to her chest.

Markus had to gulp hard to moisten his dry throat to speak, the spider still looked very much alive to him. “I thought it would be a good idea to see what a dungeon heart looks like,” he said, trying to sound much more sure and confident in his decision than he felt, and failing miserably.

Aela seemed to mull this over for a moment, then looked away readying her pollaxe to strike again. She glanced back at Markus out of the corner of her eye, “Okay. But-heart-is-mine."

Markus didn't understand why destroying the heart was so important to them, the best guess he had was something to do with a northerner rite of passage, or maybe specific to chimaeras themselves. The northerners had all manner of strange superstitions and rituals, some of them quite blood-.

Aela had just begun the downward stroke of her swing and at that moment one of the spider's forelimbs lashed out, sweeping her legs out from under her and sending her crashing to the ground.

Frozen in terror, Markus could only watch as the spider stood back up, its once lustrous ruby eyes now blackened and milky in death. He should have expected this, it was his fault.

The spider bared its maw to screech, but only a rasping gurgle and torrent of foul black ichor spilled out onto the flagstones beneath it.

Aela had shaken her surprise and regained her feet. She screamed a battle cry as she charged, mouth wide in excitement.

The spider made to bite Aela as she drew near but narrowly missed as Aela arrested her charge and drove her pollaxe’s spearhead into the spider's maw instead. Pivoting her stance and twisting the shaft as she yanked it back towards herself again, Aela freed a torrent of broken teeth, chunks of the spider’s flesh and thick ichor as she did so.

Seemingly unfazed by the pain, the spider overran her, knocking Aela down again as its enormous abdomen crashed into her from behind.

Markus felt numb watching the exchange, his feet frozen in place and fingers too unresponsive to grip his sword. As the spider drew closer with agonizing slowness, all Markus could think was, “This is how I die."

Pain flared through his arms, legs and chest like his bones had begun fracturing his muscles. He couldn't breathe, his chest contracting and forcing the air from his lungs. Everything was dark, no sign of Aela, Svala or the spider, just the crushing weight above him and his personal abyss.

“This is how I die.” The thought repeated again, only this time it was alien to him. His body burned like someone had set his insides on fire, the heat shorting out nerve endings and providing sweet release from pain in sudden flares of sensation, leaving only emptiness in their wake. Markus could feel his legs collapsing beneath him, arms falling useless to his sides as he was driven down.

“This is how I die.” The thought repeated again, as the weight of the abyss above crushed his body into nothingness, all conscious thought and sensation obliterated in an instant.

The spider was almost on top of him, its fangs only seconds away from his chest.

Exhausted of all emotion, Markus numbly drew his sword and stepped to one side, hacking into the spider’s right mandible as he did so, the chunk of chitin and flesh coming free as the razor edge of his sword and spider's own momentum drove the blade clear through it.

Just as before, the spider showed no signs of pain or hesitation, turning and smacking Markus with one of its legs, the blow driving the air from his lungs and sending him tumbling backwards.

Aela charged the spider again, "BACK!" She screamed, cleaving through one of its legs and into its thorax.

Again the spider ignored her, closing with Markus, its black bloody ichor spattering the ground with every step forward it took.

Markus still felt nothing, unsure if he was even breathing. He shakily climbed to his feet and readied his sword again. “I should be dead,” Markus thought sluggishly, the words echoing through his mind. A racking cough forcing him to double over for a moment, his vision swimming as he stood upright again.

“RUN!” Aela screamed desperately.

Markus looked away from the spider, Aela was racing towards him, her legs pumping hard. The spider was closer, she would not make it in time.

Markus stepped backwards, his movement abruptly arrested by the cool stone surface of a pillar. Markus had little choice but to press his back against it as his legs grew ever more unsteady beneath him.

Axes began erupting into the spider’s right side one after another in rapid succession, severing two segments of its legs and biting deep into its midsection, but the spider was relentless.

With one final burst of speed, The spider launched itself at Markus, its maw of broken teeth and shredded flesh opened wide for the kill.

Unable to keep himself upright any longer, Markus collapsed, watching numbly as the spider drove itself into the pillar above him with a sickening crunch and then careened a few dozen feet to his right and out of sight. He wasn't breathing, Markus was sure of it now. His vision was growing darker, bright spots of light dancing across his field of view. It was so strange, Markus had been going through the motions his entire life, but now that it was literally a matter of life and death, he could not remember how to breathe for the life of him. Markus’s nostrils flared, mouth opening and closing, but still nothing.

Svala had crouched down next to him, her eyes looking him up and down even as her clawed fingers clutched at his throat.

Markus thought she really needn’t bother, a minute or so longer and he would probably be dead anyway, there was little her choking him would accomplish since he was suffocating anyway.

Releasing his throat, Svala took hold of his arming belt with both hands, bunching her muscles briefly, she tore the leather in two. Clawed fingers now taking hold between the outer sleeve of his Gambeson, she tore it open in one savage pull, its toggles tearing away like wet paper. Svala gently but gingerly began probing his ribs.

Fresh stabs of pain accompanied her touch, Markus was so unaccustomed to the sensation that he couldn't help but gasp. The fresh wave of oxygen crashed through his senses like a flood through a drought scorched riverbed, his body now sending a deluge of information for his brain to process, chief amongst was the pain. Everything hurt, but Markus wasn’t sure which hurt more, his head, which felt as if Svala had buried one of her axes in it, or his chest, which brought fresh waves of agony with each breath.

Svala had been patiently trying to get his attention. However, Markus was finding it difficult to concentrate, his left hand pressed to his head in a vain and apparently futile attempt at lessening the pain.

“-be worse. Your ribs are cracked but not broken.” Svala was clearly relieved, “They will heal,” she said matter of factly. “You can let go of your sword now,” Svala said jokingly “The dungeon heart is destroyed, my daughter took care of it."

Markus looked down at his left hand. Sure enough, he was still holding the hilt tight in his grip. Markus tried letting go, but his body wasn't listening, probably too much interference from the white-hot poker someone was raking through his brain.

Svala smiled reassuringly, “I felt it as she destroyed it, you can let go."

Markus's arm shook and his wrist spasmed with the effort, his sword guard and blade clattering against the flagstones. “Cant” He groaned, his fingers refusing to release their hold as fresh waves of pain began radiating up his arm.

Svala’s expression immediately turned serious. She gingerly took hold of the blade in a firm grip with one hand, while turning it to better see the cause of the problem. She hissed in annoyance, now probing Markus's wrist with her free hand, her touch made him recoil in pain. “Sprained wrist,” she said matter of factly, clearly dissatisfied. Svala carefully laid his hand down again, now leaning in and carefully examining his fingers. Her nose twitched. Narrowing her eyes, she slowly began prying Markus’s forefinger from the sword hilt.

Markus cried out, his hand erupting in a riot of pain that alternated between the sensations of being bludgeoned to a bloody pulp and the splintered bone being drawn out through his skin.

Svala hadn’t turned away, instead now taking firm hold of Markus' forearm and pinning it in place "Aela! Alcohol and bandages out of my bag, NOW!" She called out urgently.

A few moments later Aela appeared, sparing only a moment to see what the commotion was about, she then began rummaging through the pack on her mother's back. Withdrawing a battered dish plate, an equally abused canteen and a fraying bundle of cloth.

"Soak the bandages and put them aside, we have to free his fingers." Svala nodded her head from Aela’s bundle of items then to Markus's hand.

Taking her right glove off using her teeth, Aela flanked Markus's hand opposite her mother, placing the metal plate between them and the cloth on top of it. Unscrewing the canteen, she poured the nose burning contents over the cloth, thoroughly soaking it and turning them brown like mud. Aela then removed her other glove and leaned in over Markus's hand. “Sorry,” she said sympathetically, and Markus's hand erupted with pain.

Everything had begun slipping away, Markus was aware that someone was screaming, but he wasn't sure who. Markus found himself staring down, fixated on his mutilated hand. There was blood everywhere, his flesh raw, torn and exposed.

Svala had taken the sword from him and carefully laid it out of his reach.

Aela then grabbed a piece of Markus's broken arming belt and jammed it into Markus’s mouth, working his jaw shut with her powerful grip and forcing him to look away from his hand.

Seconds later, a fresh wave of agony washed over Markus as something washed over his hand like fire, Markus’s imagination forming an image of his now melted stump in his mind. The accompanying pain after that point was nothing in comparison, likely Svala tugging the last chunks of scorched meat from his bones.

“-ok-now,” Aela's words were fading in and out of his hearing, “-dressed-clean."

Shivering and unable to keep his eyes open, Markus slumped to the side and would have fallen if Aela hadn't quickly taken hold of him and arrested his fall.

Everything went dark, the voices around him growing more distant and incoherent. Markus felt himself slipping, a sweeping chill taking hold in his chest numbing the pain, and then he let go.