The chamber was a broad half-circle, with a large stone pillar in the center of the room along the far wall. Tarn gauged the space to be about a hundred feet wide at its broadest point. Despite looking like stone, the floor underneath felt spongy, his boots sinking slightly with each step.
Unlike every other room they had been in since arriving at the Axe, this chamber had no door at the far end. Even the one they had passed through to enter was now gone, faded seamlessly into the wall behind them.
One door still remained on the entrance wall, and that now opened to reveal a smiling Bog. The orc strutted in confidently, with Narsol, Jental, and Lash in tow.
“You look happy,” Tarn grinned at Bog. It was good to simply have a positive moment, and it did indeed seem as if things had gone well.
“A combat and a campsite, just as you said.” Bog threw her arms around a surprised Jental. “And this one can tear ‘em apart with the best of them! I said she was a pain in the ass, but she’s more of a pain in theirs!”
Bog roared with laughter at this, slapping Jental hard enough to send the woman stumbling forward a few steps.
“Thanks,” Jental said, rubbing her back. “I think. You kill a bit louder than me. Well, louder than anyone. But you do a great job keeping them off my butt.”
“I’m guessing things went well then.” Tarn looked over at Narsol. Lash was riding on the orc’s shoulder, a sign of trust from the gremlin.
“As Bog said.” Narsol carefully removed Lash and placed him on the ground. “We were victorious in combat and used the campsite to restore all AP and increase Jental’s level and abilities.”
Tarn smiled and nodded. Exactly what he wanted by splitting them up. Now they could go on to face Yarex stronger than if they had stayed as one unit.
“And you lead them in the fight. Well done.”
The orc’s expression remained unchanged.
“They fight well for humans…” Narsol paused, his eyes falling on Bog and Lash. “...and others. They acquitted themselves in battle with effectiveness. What they lack in structure they make up for in … improvisation.”
“That sounds like them,” Isca said, her voice laced with sarcasm. Catching Tarn’s amused eyebrow, she shrugged. “What? You all are unorthodox! But you get used to it after a while and come to appreciate it.”
Bog laughed loudly again, pumping her fist in approval of the Kithikin while sliding over to Tarn, leaning into his ear.
“She fits in well now,” she whispered from his side. “One of the team.”
“How about you and Narsol?”
Bog looked over at her fellow orc, her expression shifting from what Tarn had seen before. To this point, Bog had always seemed to regard Narsol with derision, or at least skepticism. Now he saw the hint of curiosity in her eyes.
“He has…intriguing possibilities,” she finally muttered with a laugh.
“Perhaps a change in command structure is in order, however?” Urthin nodded toward the far end of the room, where the single pillar awaited. “Before we proceed?”
Tarn considered for a moment. There might be advantages to leaving them as two groups, but Narsol had been pretty clear about how the endgame in the Axe Dungeon worked. Two teams enter, and one team leaves. Winner takes all. If there was a third party, they might well be left behind by the dungeon or asked to fight someone themselves.
“Any issues with me taking the reins back?” Tarn looked over at Narsol. “I mean, if you do we don’t have a plan B for that and-“
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“None.” Narsol held up his hands. “I can access the features in my interface. Whatever my concerns about you as a leader, the team is yours. I only ask what I have asked of you from the beginning: do what must be done so we can return to Ak Thanon.”
//TEAM STRUCTURE CHANGE //LEADERSHIP ABDICATED //INTENT SYMMETRY DETECTED
//ACCEPT NEW MEMBERS?
//Bog / Bruiser (7) / AP: 100/130
//Lash / Trickster (7) / AP: 80/80
//Jental / Lone Wolf (3) / AP: 60/70
//Narsol / Obelisk (3) / AP: 60/80
Tarn noted the increased AP total for Jental, and he was sure she had a few new abilities to go with it. With that advantage, plus a mostly healed team and a few new items, they were as ready for Yarex as they were going to get.
Now it was just a matter of finding out what the renegade monk had in store for them.
Tarn motioned for Narsol to join him, and together the pair walked forward to the single stone podium at the far end of the room. It was the lone object in the room besides themselves, a simple rectangle of stone about three feet high. A blue crystal shard was attached to one side, while a metal axe had been fastened to the top.
Tarn found it unnerving how the smooth, curved wall stretched all around them, containing no doors, not even the one they had used to access it. If this podium didn’t let them out, he supposed they’d just have to stay here until they starved.
But he had confidence the Axe Dungeon had no intention of denying itself the meal of blood points it had spent so many rooms preparing. Both his team and Yarex’s had been marinated and cooked to perfection, the dungeon would be ready to feast.
“I guess this is it, it seems.” He looked back to the orc. “Well, you’ve been here before, Narsol. How does this work?”
“The axe upon that pillar.” The orc pointed at the waist-high pile of stone across from them, against the smooth wall. “Place your hand upon it, and it will tell you the details of the final confrontation, as well as if you have arrived here first or second.”
Tarn approached the pillar before him, confident in what it would show him. After rushing into the dungeon to make sure Yarex was convinced of the race, they had taken a slower route. Tarn gambled that availing themselves of the Axe’s resources would be more important in the end, even at the cost of advantage.
Time to see how high that cost was. He placed his hand across the blade of the axe. To his surprise, it felt warm to the touch, as if a flame was lit within it. There was a flash before his mind, and then a new set of screens appeared in his thoughts.
The first of the pages simply detailed the participants. Tarn could see the familiar names of Yarex, Vestai, Tona, and Geron all present and waiting. Their positions and status effects were listed as [Hidden] but he could at least see their AP totals and levels.
All were the same as the last time they had faced the group. Tarn smiled as he pushed his thoughts to the next screen. At least that gambit seemed to have worked.
The next listing was the expected ‘advantages’. These too were [Hidden], but he could at least see that Yarex had been able to select three of them, leaving a single slot for Tarn. Tarn tried to call up the listing of remaining ‘advantages’ to choose from but received a mildly painful error for his effort.
//Advantages cannot be seen until the final arena is entered.
Well, okay then.
“Gather up, folks!”
Tarn felt his pride rising as his team walked over across the vast room, each of them showing him even at that moment why he trusted them so. Bog was in the lead, always ready and eager to fight. Lash rode upon her shoulder, his grin broad and beaming with his unique, positive energy. Isca hovered, wings buzzing slowly, as she kept an eye on the others. Jental twirled her knives with confidence, while Aryo rechecked the buckles on his pack, always prepared and ready.
Behind them all was Urthin, eyes on the rear of the room, observing everything and making sure they were not surprised from behind.
As a group, they all waited for him patiently. At his side, only Narsol seemed to be on edge, as the orc shuffled from one foot to the other, arms crossed.
“He has gotten his team here first.” He looked out across the group. All eyes were upon his except Lash, whose gaze seemed to be following a small insect flying around the room. “That means he’s chosen the settings and the rules. The board is tilted in his favor.”
It was true, but it wasn’t the truth. Not the important one.
“But he had to do that – because he needs the advantage. We don’t. We’re a team, not a group of hired mercenaries. And each of us is here fighting to save lives, for what we think is right. He’s not the enemy, but if he is in our way, we’re going to have to move him aside.”
“This is your moment.” Narsol’s voice had a weary edge to it as if a long journey was finally ending. “And in this moment, Tarn Arisfal, we will finally see how much of yourself you will sacrifice to win.”
“Yeah.” Tarn took a deep breath and placed his hand back on the axe. “I guess we will.”