We did not war immediately, of course. Our enemies lay massacred behind us in pools of their own filthy rat blood and new threats were not yet on the horizon. We had wandered through another meandering tunnel that proved to have probably been a mining shaft long ago, only to emerge to the overworld atop a hill overlooking Underock Village.

“We made it,” Bleff whispered as if unable to believe it as the morning sun met us.

Its early rays felt warm and tender against my skin but paled in comparison to what Kindra had offered me in the serenity of the underground world.

“What now?” the goblin asked with a hopeful notch to his words. I scanned the trees and meadows surrounding us. The hills in the distance and the mountains overshadowing them many leagues away. Flowers and butterflies spotted the green like colorful drops of paint, and a soft breeze rustled the leaves of great menacing trees that spread their disturbing canopies across the land.

I shuddered and took a deep breath, steeling myself.

“Now we feast on bread, body, and soul.”

“Uhm…sure. I’ll feast on anything, to be honest. I’m rather starving.”

“Be not worried, Bleff. I have the means to feed us.”

Godfrey’s wife and her cooking skills came to mind immediately. Though my bloodlust was a pool one could not fill, the battle beneath Underock had stirred more pressing cravings. I was hungry as I had never been before.

Considering our tired bodies, we still made great haste to reach Godfrey’s home where I was promised I would be able to satiate my hunger. The village was still seemingly asleep with only a few tired-looking amblers washing their faces in buckets outside their huts. Weirdly, they spared us little attention which came as a disappointment considering we had just rid these people of the evil beneath their very feet. I had never felt such hunger so the lack of admiration hadn’t pained me as much as it would otherwise.

Just as Godfrey explained, his hut was on the northern end of Underock surrounded by racks of fish laid out to dry in the cold air. There was nobody outside and the door was shut, so I knocked three times and called out.

“It is I, Shieldfather, Godfrey. Wake up and bring me your wife.”

The door almost was almost immediately flung open and a woman of Godfrey’s age and scarce beauty met me with an angry frown.

“You’ll break down my door, you id—”

She looked up at me with her jaw hanging open. Godfrey’s wife might as well have been his sister for the sickly skin and the thin hair. Her dull grey eyes wandered from my head down to the rest of my body and I couldn’t help but feel the familiar sense of being admired. I pushed out my chest as hard as I could so she could truly take all of me in.

“What…what are you? What is this?”

“I’m Shieldfather. A friend of your husband Godfrey. May I greet him?”

“And I’m Bleff,” the goblin said and the woman gasped and pulled back.

“Eww! A goblin! Kill it!”

Bleff’s shoulders sagged and he shuffled behind my back.

“He’s my companion. No harm shall come to you by his hand.”

Even if he wanted to.

“What do you want? What did Godfrey tell you?”

“What is your name, faire lady?”

“The name’s Wilda and…fair? Do I look like a fair lady to you?”

I did not want to answer that question for my words were of a polite rather than truthful nature.

“Here,” I said, pulling the crab meat from my inventory and holding it out to her in both hands. A few pieces fell to the ground. She eyed it for a bit then grimaced at me as if unsure what I meant.

“Godfrey promised me you would cook a great crab stew with these.”

“He did, didn’t he? That lazy bastard. Goes out all day, catches nothing down there, and then sends me giants to feed them somehow. What use is he to me?”

“Is that a question, Lady Wilda?”

She cocked her head and looked me over again.

“Listen, barbarian, I’m not Godfrey’s maid. If I want to—”

“I’m not a barbarian. I’m a Varian Lord of Tartarus.”

“And he finds your words steeped in ignorance,” Bleff quickly added.

“I do. However, I do not wish to trouble you,” I continued. “I seek no hand-outs, I will pay for the food in coin, work, pleasure, or however you see fit.”

“Pleasure?” she quickly asked.

“Pleasure?” Bleff repeated behind me. “What pleasure?”

I winced at the question for I dearly hoped she would ask for work or coin but it was impolite for a Varian Lord not to offer the warmth of his body to those who helped him. Especially if that help meant the very survival of said Varian Lord.

“I offer you the body of a Shieldfather, Varian Lord of Tartarus to bring pleasure upon your flesh which you have never felt before.”

“For crab stew?” she asked as if not believing her ears.

It was no wonder such a creature would seek out a Varian’s flesh for we inspired not only awe but many other, more physical feelings in the people around us.

“Indeed.”

I barely replied before Wilda pulled me inside by the hand with a surprising strength and vigor then shut the door of the hut, leaving poor Bleff outside.

About an hour later, and with my body even more tired and sore than after the encounter with the Great One, I stepped outside the hut where the goblin was eagerly awaiting my return.

An incredulous grin was spread across his face that I did not appreciate at all. Wilda came walking out after me carrying with her a large pot and some strange vegetables.

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First I washed my face in the bucket of water, then sat down on one of the five tree stumps arranged in a circle around an extinguished fire. Wilda immediately busied herself with preparing the stew, a satisfied smile gracing her face the entire time. She even had a certain pinkish hue to her that made her old face younger by at least a hundred cycles.

“And? What was it like?” Bleff asked in a hushed tone.

“As all moments of flesh shared by a Shieldfather, it was a glorious event.”

A Varian Lord had a ready answer for that question though the word ‘glorious’ might not have applied entirely to the exchange I had with Godfrey’s wife. The word ‘feral’ came to mind.

“Well, as long as you had fun,” Bleff grinned.

I did have fun, so much was true. Despite her age, Wilda had shown me things I had never seen anyone in Tartarus perform. I was now even more eager to return to Hell and show the new skills I acquired. But those things had to wait, just like I was eagerly waiting for that stew.

I leaned against the side of the hut and closed my eyes only for a moment, and yet sleep had come so quickly and forcefully I had no time to resist.

My dreams were a parade of recent events, the old bastard that had plucked me from the Steel Bastion and sent me across realms to this place was laughing as I waded through green jungles, fought ten-foot crabs, hill-sized goblins, and an entire sea of rats.

Images of Hell, the jungle, Underock, and the underground mixed and mashed into a maddening circus until a shining figure washed them all away.

It was Godfrey, my good friend. A hundred feet tall and glistening in golden armor, standing ready to cast away any fears I had and bring sense and compassion to my nightmare.

I woke to my name being spoken in soft warm tones.

As I opened my eyes, the crab stew was happily bubbling away, giving off an irresistible smell that made me grin. Wilda was already handing me a clay bowl that I took eagerly. Our fingers touched, she smiled, and I shuddered but smiled back. Bleff was already shoveling in the stew with great gusto, bits and pieces of crab gathering around his mouth.

It was difficult to look at him, so I asked the goblin to turn away while he ate. His enthusiasm sagged and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes at my words, but he did so anyway, showing that he could be considerate if he wanted to. I felt a pang of guilt again and annoyed by that most ruinous emotion, I said in soft words,

“Oh, just turn back around. And eat decently.”

“I will!” Bleff exclaimed then continued to eat like a rabid animal.

Wilda filled my bowl and I dug in heartily. The stew was otherworldy, quite literally so. Though the iron chefs were masters of their trade, I had never been as hungry as I was sitting in front of Wilda’s hut, which made her stew quite possibly the best thing I had ever tasted. I asked for three more bowls and Wilda happily obliged, satisfied that I enjoyed her cooking so much.

“Oh, will you look at that,” I said, putting down my spoon for the first time and pointing at the figure approaching us from the south. “My good friend Godfrey,” I said as he reached us.

The fisherman smiled, though there was apprehension in his visage, the source of which I could not tell.

“Shieldfather. You’re here.”

“Indeed I am, Godfrey. As you suggested. And you were right once more, as you were so many times before that. Wilda is indeed the greatest crab stew cook far and wide.”

This brought some sincere joy to the old fisherman’s face.

“Nice friends you got here, Godfrey,” Wilda said and the old man’s brows furrowed. I found the reaction quizzical, to say the least.

“You’re in a good mood,” Godfrey told his wife and I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.

“I am, you old sock. Why? Is that so hard to believe that I can be cheerful, eh? That I can have a good day and nice guests?”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying, dear,” Godfrey explained, stowing away his fishing pole against one of the kipper racks. “It’s just that—bah, forget it. I’m glad you are.”

“It might be because Wilda and I shared your bed in payment for the stew. It is not unusual for my partners to lighten up after our flesh takes to dance.”

Bleff spurted out stew through his nose and almost fell over. Wilda gasped and covered her mouth. Godfrey’s jaw hung wide open, and he seemed utterly stunned.

“Have I not told the truth?”

“You did what!” Godfrey yelled out.

His surprisingly loud voice caught the attention of the other villagers who stopped what they were doing and looked over to us. I could not understand his reaction at all.

“If you are envious of the time I spent with your wife, I will be more than ready to share my flesh with you as well.”

I was in no mood to go back into the hut, especially not with Godfrey, but I felt I owed the man a chance to experience a Varian Lord. Mostly because I was worried my actions had somehow caused tension between the two.

“To what? No! No, I won’t go to bed with you!” He looked at his wife. “Wilda! How could you! How could you do this to me?”

Wilda looked at her husband with a surprisingly calm expression.

“I thought you sent him here to do it. He offered himself. What can I say?”

“My gods…the betrayal! I have no words!”

“What is going on?” I asked, quickly losing my good mood. “What have I done to offend you, Godfrey? Please tell me so I can rectify it.”

“You slept with me wife! And to pay for stew! How could you rectify any of this?”

In my desperation, I looked to Bleff for answers, but the goblin kept shoveling in the stew as if his life depended on it. His eyes strictly fixtured to his bowl.

Coward.

“Tell me, Godfrey, what I should do. Anything! I’ll do anything!”

“Get out of my house! Get out of my house and never come back!”

I locked eyes with the fisherman and sighed deeply. I could not for the life of me understand his anger, but there was no mistaking the sincerity or severity of it. I slapped the bowl out of Bleff’s hands.

“Come, Bleff. We must go.”

“Thought so.”

The goblin and I got up and I bowed slightly before Wilda and Godfrey. I felt my heart was about to explode for in my ignorance I had wronged this man yet again. For a moment, I considered whether I was the demon sent here to plague the old fisherman because that’s what I felt like.

“Never come back, ye here me!” Godrey yelled after us as we took our leave and headed for the dungeon hub.

Though it was a short walk, all the villagers who listened in on our exchange gave me dirty looks or cursed me under their breath. A child slung a piece of dung at me which I managed to duck so it hit Bleff square across the face.

The shame I felt was unbearable. What had I done? There I was a few hours ago fighting for the survival of this very village with the wisdom of Godfrey’s words to lend me aid, and here I was now shunned, hated, and humiliated by the very people I wanted to help. By the very man who helped me.

Was there no right answer to the question of this world? What demon could have thought of such a fate for me? Not even the demon princes could wring such nightmares.

“You alright, Shieldfather?” Bleff asked, seeing me stop short of the dungeon hub.

“What did I do, Bleff? I don’t understand what happened.”

“Well…in some cultures, and with some races, there’s this unspoken rule that…well, you don’t schtupp another man’s wife.”

“What cultures? This one? This race of humans? They don’t want me to share my Varian flesh with them? Why? And why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I really didn’t expect you to…you know, take a roll in the hay with the old missus there.”

“Take a roll…oh, I see. But why?”

“Oh, my sweet Varian Lord,” Bleff grinned. “It’s because…where do I even start? Let’s get drinks and sit down in the hub for a bit. There should be rooms on the second floor. You have some coin, right?”

I was truly and utterly curious and I had a great craving for wine. A barrel of it, no less. But I had other matters of greater importance to attend to. I noticed the priest had picked himself up and wasn’t sleeping in the puddle of mud in front of the church anymore. It was high time I found him and got on with my journey before I harmed anyone else.

“We search for the priest first,” I said and Bleff groaned.

“Let’s just hand in the quest at least. We’ll get a bunch of experience points, maybe grab a drink and then we can keep looking for…Hell.”

“The priest is right there in the church, Bleff.”

“And we’re literally at the hub right now. Please, Shieldfather, just this one thing.”

Another piece of dung hit Bleff on the back of his head and he lurched forward, then yelled curses at the giggling child who vanished behind a tree.

“Fine,” I said, feeling that itching pity that kept irritating me more and more creep up on my soul.

No wonder. I was deeply emotionally disturbed for many, many reasons. Besides, I did need some rest. I had a feeling that whatever the priest was about to tell me regarding my predicament would just drag my heart deeper into despair.

We entered the dungeon hub with Bleff taking point as I somewhat dragged myself after him. It was no great day for a Shieldfather. I paid little heed to the creatures around me until a familiar voice almost made me flinch like a suckling child.

“So, you made it.”

I looked up to see a woman sitting in a high chair next to the crackling fire of the hearth. Her hair was burned, her clothes torn and dirtied with earth and blood. Numerous scratches and bite marks spread across her soot-covered body. Kindra Van Groer looked like hell itself had birthed her into existence and the sight of her caused my heart to pound like Kold’s fists against the Worldforge.

“You fucking bastards.”