Friedrich rushed along the road with his shield on one arm, a sword in the other and a hammer hanging from his waist. Pheston’s hammer, Vigr, dripped occasional droplets of green as Friedrich moved, the nooks and crannies of the engraved hammer holding onto the lake water remarkably well. The young man himself was dry, having relied on his goblinoid self to find the hammer from the bottom of the lake.

With only the road and some rough tracks to follow, Friedrich was convinced that he would be able to locate Pheston before long. He had no doubt in his mind that the old man’s abductors were the same ones that the pair had fled from hours previously. They thought they had lost the trail after killing one of their pursuers at an old ruin, but that one error had proven to be a costly one.

Friedrich pressed ahead, ready to cut down any beast that would dare cross his path. He prayed that it would not be another platoon of demon soldiers, but he would slaughter them all the same. It may require some clever tactics, but he would do whatever it took to rescue Pheston, the one being in Keldracht that had given him friendship and guidance. He owed his friend a rescue.

As he walked towards a fork in the path, Friedrich was dismayed to see that there were tracks leading in multiple directions. He couldn’t discern which were the most recent and opted to transform into a fox to try and sniff out the foul whiff of a demon. After a couple of minutes of contemplation, he turned back into a human and walked down the left path.

“I’ll find you eventually,” muttered Friedrich.

The path brought him to a large tunnel where a derelict wooden outpost sat outside. It was one of the precious few times that Friedrich had laid eyes upon a wooden building in Keldracht, with the vast majority of structures being made from stone or metal.

He stepped inside the ramshackle hut and looked around, but there was nothing he could use to aid him. There was, however, a tattered old book that was missing most of its pages and the other pages remained were faded. He moved to the doorway where there was better light and looked at the first page that was mostly legible.

Day 584. Keldracht has proven far more difficult to tame than we first envisioned. Our hubris got the better of us, it seems. We — fathom. If in another thirty days we cannot make our — call it quits. The Lord of Horns has used our taken most of — one day, we will win.

Upon flicking through the rest of the book, Friedrich was none the wiser as to who had written it, but the fact that he could read it suggested that it was written by a human. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that humans had tried to wage war against a demonic plane before, but there was little success if that was indeed the case. The name that stuck out to Friedrich the most was one that reached out to the spirit of the minotaur mask. He dared not utter the name aloud, lest the minotaur become enraged again. Friedrich needed to maintain full control and could not afford any mistakes that would cost him his freedom.

The young man walked from the outpost and marched into the cave, transforming once more into a fox to see through the darkness. The road continued to run along the cave ground, but there was a distinct damp, almost floral smell in the air that Friedrich couldn’t identify. It was unlike anything he had smelled in Keldracht so far and that gave him great cause for concern.

He picked up the pace, following the road and ignoring all side passages. The further he could get from the smell, the better, but the road seemed to be steering him closer and closer to it. He prayed that it was down another passageway, but his hopes were dashed when he rounded a bend and saw a towering figure standing before the exit back into the open world.

The creature before him was a beast wholly unnatural with a womanly upper half, but all feminine traits bastardised and warped into a twisted appearance that made Friedrich’s fur stand on end. Where there could have been a kind smile and beautiful eyes, was a horrific sneer and piercing white eyes. Smooth skin was replaced with rough scales and instead of two arms, she bore four which ended in claw-like hands. Her lower half was that of a snake, twisted and coiled, perfect for strangling whatever unfortunate prey crossed her path.

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“Kyah!” she called harshly to Friedrich, who was about to turn back into a human to fight before the creature spoke again. “What is this? A creature from Terna?”

Friedrich froze, wondering how it was that she knew of foxes. He did not move towards her, but sat on his hind legs to signal no hostility from him—for now.

“You understand me, fox?”

Friedrich nodded silently.

“You are far away from home where the grass is green and the air is warm. What is it that you do in our realm?”

Friedrich said nothing.

“Could it be that you seek the human that passed through here a short while ago? Was he your master and you his pet?”

Perhaps she knew where Pheston had gone. Friedrich needed to communicate with her, but did not want to turn back into his regular self while his sword was still in his five-fingered hand. She may attack immediately upon seeing a weapon.

“Do not ignore me, fox. I am the guardian of this lair and none pass through without my say so. I am Tha’gura.”

He had to do something. Friedrich approached her slowly while she continued to sneer at him, revealing her jagged teeth that would make even the snappajaws jealous. Friedrich stopped a few yards away from her, should the snake-lady decide she wanted a lupine dinner this evening. Knowing that she was awaiting a response, he nodded to her once again.

“Such loyalty is admirable,” said Tha’gura. “But admiration is not something I would extend to creatures of Terna. Is it that important to you that you are allowed to pass me by and follow your master?”

Friedrich nodded again.

Tha’gura let escape a low hiss as her forked tongue flicked between the points of her teeth. “And if I were to deny your pursuit?”

There was nothing else for it. Friedrich should have known that any attempts to reason with a creature like this were fruitless. As he transformed back into a human, Tha’gura slid back a foot in surprise.

“If you were to deny my pursuit,” said Friedrich, raising his sword. “I would simply go through you instead.”

“Kyah!” screeched Tha’gura, lunging for Friedrich with her four arms.

He bashed two out of the way with his shield, sending them flinging back behind Tha’gura’s head, while one of her sharp claws scratched at his clothes. Her fourth arm was suddenly no longer attached to her body upon the swift slashing of Friedrich’s sword, eliciting a foul scream from the snake-lady as blue blood streamed from her stump.

“Meyan! Fel’kergaru mir te yath!”

Friedrich took a step back, raising his shield and positioning his sword over the top of it. “I will permit you to live if you would simply get out of my way, Tha’gura.”

“Die!” she hissed, unfurling her tail and slithering around Friedrich, who pivoted to follow her upper body.

The Mercian knew what Tha’gura’s next move was to be, he just needed to predict when she would strike and he could counter. A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead as he watched her intently, waiting to seize the opening. She was wise to how savvy he was and only taking one of her arms was not enough to deter her. No, he needed to go for the kill.

In the blink of an eye, Tha’gura constricted her tail. Friedrich jumped into the air, and not a second too soon, transforming into a fox and standing on her scales. He scurried up her back as she reached for him and then transformed back into a human upon her shoulders.

He slammed his shield into the back of her head, making her jolt forwards violently, but he clung on around her neck with his legs. He drew his steel blade high and thrust it into the back of her neck, piercing her scales and shooting through her throat.

Friedrich leapt from her as she fell onto the road lifelessly, all life having left her before her wretched face smacked the stone. He breathed a sigh of relief as he dusted himself off, feeling nothing but disdain for the guardian of these worthless tunnels.

The young man walked through the opening and back into the open air. Knowing that he was going the right way thanks to Tha’gura’s words, Friedrich continued to follow the road. Before he got too far, he happened upon another fork, but this time there was already a sign waiting for him.

It was not a sign etched in wood or metal, but something that gave him much more assurance. There was a single worn boot sitting at the side of the road a few feet along the right path. The boot was very familiar to Friedrich and he knew who had left it there to guide him.

Pheston was still alive and he knew that his friend was coming to save him. And Friedrich was more resolute than ever that that was exactly what he was going to do. Come hell or high water, the old man would be set free.