“What was the phrase the note used again?” Elenore asked Keith.

Keith’s arms were still folded as he mumbled to himself, his thoughts focused on figuring out the barrier’s riddle. Without looking at her, he thrust out his hand, holding the paper the Archmage had left on his door toward her.

She took it and read it aloud for the third time since they’d got there.

Beware the glow I’ve gone to seek,

The power within is not so meek,

If sanity you wish to keep,

Stay far away from Yellow’s technique

Caster knew it by heart at this point. Keith had said every yellow-colored spell, armor, weapon, and turn of phrase they could think of, but it seemed helpless at this point.

“Did you try saying, coward?” She suggested.

“That was your first suggestion, ten minutes ago.” Keith shook his head.

“We could try it again.”

“No, we won’t. Because every time I touch this damn ward, my hands burn like hell, and then nothing happens. So unless you want to be the one getting charcoal fingers, I’m not touching this thing again so it can burn my fingers off a little more.”

Keith was exaggerating, but his anger was understandable this time.

“Well, guess I’m still out of ideas.” Elenore shrugged. She turned, giving the livid assassin some space to cool off.

It seemed like finding the right word to dispel the golden ward that held the massive boulder in place was impossible. The mass of moss-covered stone remained still, separating them from the Archmage within for eternity.

Caster had long since climbed out of the rucksack since there wouldn’t be any Dungeon exploring hopefuls coming down the tunnels to see him. He followed Elenore as she sat with her back against the cavern wall. She took a piece of clean cloth out of her rucksack and calmly polished the dozens of steel portions of her armor.

Caster preferred to make conversation with her over Keith for obvious reasons, mainly because she didn’t immediately call him a Minion and then tell him to piss off. While they were waiting, Caster figured he might as well keep asking questions.

“What do you think the Archmage meant when he said the Dungeon emergency was ‘the most forbidden danger’?” he asked Elenore. She continued to polish, answering as she worked.

“Well, he’s an Archmage, so to him 'dangerous' would be either another Archmage, an Old God, or an Avatar. Or, maybe the Dungeon Core has gone crazy.” Elenore stopped, snapping her head up toward Keith. “Hey, Keith, what’s the Fogrun Dungeon Core called?”

“Dagon, why?” Keith stopped, glancing up at the ward again. Elenore didn’t answer, her suggestion was obvious enough.

Keith took a few seconds, bobbing his head side-to-side. He seemed to understand what she meant. He took a deep breath and pressed his bare hands on top of the center sigil of the golden ward. The scaly skin that made up his palms hissed as the ward’s overwhelming power did as it was commanded – to repulse intruders.

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“Dagon!” He shouted, his arms reeling back after he finished the word.

Nothing happened, and the ward remained.

“OH GODS DAMN IT,” Keith shouted, shaking his hands wildly to cool them off.

“Figured it wouldn’t work. I don’t think some Dagon feller has anything to do with a Yellow technique,” Elenore chuckled under her breath. “It’s just funny to watch Keith get burned.”

Caster stifled his laugh.

“You think it’s an Elder God? The Agency said that the skeleton guy was after me. Maybe it's him.”

“Nope, couldn’t be. The Elder Gods haven’t been able to walk on Perdita since the last Age. That skeleton guy was an Avatar, I think.”

“Why not? If they’re so elder and… godlike, how come they can’t come to kill me?”

“Whew, I keep forgetting yer out of the loop. Like I said before I’m bad at knowing things, but what I know is that wayyy back when, before there were people even, there were these huge creatures that had pretty much infinite power. They made all the worlds and stuff. Then, after a while the first Elder God showed up, and so did people. That’s the First Age. Then, in the Second Age, people started getting these tiny amounts of the Elder God’s powers as gifts. If you ask me, it all kinda went downhill from there. Other Gods got jealous of getting no attention and showed up too. Then the Elder Gods started picking favorites that gave way more powers than the other people – they became Avatars. The Avatars started to make cities and lead armies, so everyone started fighting for more power. Eventually, everything got so messed up that the first Elder God that came to Perdita banished the others and set up some crazy magic barrier so that they could never return, forever. That's what started the Third Age."

"Huh, you sound like you know your history," Caster said.

"Eh, I had a good tutor. Where was I? Oh yeah. The Elder Gods were gone, but people still had the Elder Gods' powers and their artifacts and weapons. After a while 4 big city-states became popular, Mainhelm, New R’lyeh, Cairngowan, and Boyerton. They started having huge wars with a TON of power. Eventually, they killed so many people that most of the time they decide that it would be better to use magic to ‘fake’ kill each other in a place they called The Arena – that’s the place you came from. We call that the Fourth Age. There are a few things that happened and The Hero came along, but since that happened in the last hundred years, there are a lot more details, so I can explain later. But, here we are now I guess.”

How do I not remember this? I don’t know what I know, but I know that that’s not the history I know. No, I need to keep my mind open, the more I know, the closer I get to the truth.

Caster struggled with his thoughts but decided to press on.

“Can you tell me anything about the Elder Gods themselves? Did they have names?”

“Well, they did have names but… I’m kinda superstitious. Most people here in Perdita are. We don’t really like saying their names, makes it feel like they can hear you. But, the first Elder God that came here was a pretty good guy they say. He helped people a lot, gave us magic and all that. Don’t know his name, I don’t think anyone does. They say it was like he was wiped from history like the Elder Gods tried to make everyone forget him. Oh - I know he did have a beard though. We still have a statue leftover from the First Age in the museum in Mainhelm. Lots of people have tried stealing it a couple of hundred times though. Now the second Elder God that came, everyone, knows was a real deceitful guy. We call him Yellow King – that’s not his real name though. He's a big-time liar. Messes with people’s minds when they’re dreaming, mainly artsy types for some odd reason.”

“Wait… what’s his real name?” Caster tilted his head up.

“I don’t wanna say it, I told you it’s creepy.” Elenore shook her head.

“Keith,” Caster turned. Keith was still standing a foot away from the barrier. “What’s the name of the Yellow King?”

“Hastur. Why?” Keith groaned. Elenore looked grossed out from hearing it.

“Try Hastur on the door!” As Caster said the words, whispers came from the corners of his mind.

brokenthronesleeperdreamerdeceitcultnewagefestival

It was a slew of psychotic ramblings from voices too distant to be understood.

Ugh! That is weird. He shivered.

“Told ya,” said Elenore.

As his hands hissed, Keith growled. “Hastur!”

Clever - Knowledge is Power, activated! +3 Arcane