The knot in Ted’s stomach twisted again. Assuming Gramok hadn’t gotten them lost, the wide tunnel they were in was the last one before they made it to Valbort. But would they really be safe there?

No matter what Gramok said, these were strange times for everyone. There was no guarantee that the dwarves would be open to heavily armed visitors.

Gramok marched ahead, Cara’s old bow strapped to his back. Ted couldn’t help but chuckle at how much it looked like a toy strapped to the huge orc’s back. Still, it would be some ranged firepower if they got ambushed like that again.

Another grunt from Cara, and she propped herself against the tunnel wall. Her face scrunched up, and she hurried through those two words again. “Rest break.”

Gramok continued a little further on and poked his head around the corner. “Valbort’s just there. They’ll have a doctor.”

“Kalkarka sri!” Cara’s nostrils flared. “We both know there’s nothing more they can do. It’ll heal with time.”

Time, and rest. Thickness swelled in Ted’s throat. He’d died last time he’d left her behind, but better him than her.

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about it. You’re not leaving me behind at Valbort.”

Ted shook his head and looked away. She wouldn’t listen, not about this, not to him. “Gramok, can you talk some sense into her?”

“Well…”

The word lingered in the air. The pounding pressure in Ted’s chest rose. “You can’t possibly believe we should—”

“Explore the ruins without a single point of Night Vision between us?”

The knot twisted tighter in Ted’s stomach. “We’ll get a guide.”

Gramok chuckled. “An orc, a human, and an elf walk into a dwarven tavern. ‘Any guides for the Ruins of Tarkath?’ Good luck with that.”

“Then we wait.”

“Ted…” Cara pulled herself up straight, winced, and started walking again. “This is bigger than me. Besides, I’ll have you guys protecting me. Unless you think you’re not up to it?”

He clenched his fist. “Low blow, Cara, low blow.”

Her eyes shone, even as her face twitched with every step. “It’s okay if you’re not up to it.”

“I hate you.”

“Aww, you say the sweetest things.”

Couldn’t she see how dangerous it was? What if she died?

He swallowed. She knew the risks—hard not to, with a punctured lung—yet here she was, forcing herself onward. He’d do the same for his people, wouldn’t he?

What people?

Eventually, they rounded the corner of the tunnel. Fifty yards ahead, a metal portcullis barred the way, with a wooden gate another twenty yards behind it. Powerful magic permeated both, with neither the magical threads of spells nor enchantments. Whatever protected the gate was new, and very different.

Gramok’s posture stiffened as he advanced. “Be careful what you say, dwarves can be a bit prickly. Probably best to leave the talking to me. I’ve dealt with them before.”

Ted nodded. “Fine by me. The wood elves didn’t want me around even after I saved their village.”

“That’s…” A grimace worked its way across Cara’s face. “Kinda true. Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine!” Gramok grinned and waltzed up to the portcullis. “Yar, Sir Gramok Kadora, selnak prisnarl ul Tonvalbortdelan!”

The gate opened. The portcullis did not. Armored dwarves marched out, four abreast, four lines deep. Unadorned heavy armor covered them from head to toe. They wielded spears taller than they were, alongside wide shields emblazoned with interlocking runes.

The front right soldier barked in Common, “Drop your weapons and step back!”

A chill ran down Ted’s spine. These weren’t ceremonial guards.

“Guys, guys.” Gramok’s voice wavered. “Tell Ardic it’s Gramok.”

The guards lowered their spears and advanced in lockstep. The gate closed behind them.

Twelve heavily armed, well-trained guards? Ted bit his lip. “We should go.”

A distinctly female voice echoed up the tunnel. “Stand down! Do they look like dungeon spawn to you?”

The spears lifted. The guards turned inward, parted down the middle, and backed up to the side of the tunnel. The gate swung open again.

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A dwarven woman dressed in simple clothes strolled out, her chin up high. “Open the portcullis! Lord Tonvalbortdelan will wish to speak with them immediately!”

Gramok bowed deeply. “Steward Frieda! Such a pleasure to see you again. Thank you for—”

“Yes, yes, come, come.” She beckoned, held up four fingers to the guards, and set off again. “You can save your flattery for the nobility.”

They followed, flanked by four of the guards. Past the gate was a courtyard full of makeshift beds. At least a hundred, half of them occupied by groaning dwarves. Ted swallowed. Badly injured dwarves, tended to by a handful of very tired looking medics.

“Dungeon spawn?” Gramok asked.

The steward nodded. “Aye. We’ll do what we can for them, but all our mages are busy repairing the main gate.”

Cara caught Ted’s gaze and raised her eyebrows. Of course she wanted to help.

Ted sighed. “While we’re here… I know some healing magic, and Cara has a fair bit of First Aid knowledge.”

“I’m grateful for the offer, but…” Frieda paused and her lips pressed together. “We cannot afford to hire a healer. We will make do.”

They expected to pay? Ted blinked. “They’re right there… dying. I don’t need payment. Let me save them.”

Frieda stared at him. Her brow wrinkled. After a few moments, she gave a terse nod. “If you are willing, I cannot say no. Do what you can. Please.”

The dwarven medics directed Cara to work through the injured with her First Aid, while Ted was thrown straight into the worst of it. He was ordered to heal them just enough to keep them alive, while the medics did their work.

He did as he was told, healing as efficiently as possible. This wasn’t a sprint, and every mana point wasted might cost a life.

For what felt like a lifetime, he played a slow-paced whack-a-mole with their HP, cycling through those losing hit points, barely staving off their deaths.

Slowly, oh-so-damned slowly, the medics managed to stabilize them.

Some of them.

None of them died by falling to zero hit points. Some injuries were eventually lethal, and treatment didn’t always work. Each time was a punch to the gut, no matter how hard he told himself there wasn't anything more he could have done.

Mend. Why would anyone ever lock such magic up?

Lives slipped away less and less frequently until, at long last, one of the medics gave them thanks, and said they could take it from there.

Nodding, Ted stumbled to the wall and collapsed against it, every inch of his being drained.

Cara joined him, wincing and clutching her side. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

They shared a look.

They’d done what they could.

Ted took her hand in his, but the silence hung there, oppressive, scathing, judging them both. He had to say something. “I got two levels of life magic. You?”

“One level of First Aid. I got that a while ago though, so, one and a half?”

“Cool.” Ted bit at his lip, his mind going places he wished it wouldn’t. “Whatever did… that… I hope it doesn’t respawn any time soon.”

“It feels good, though, doesn’t it? Helping people?”

He shook his head. “We lost a few.”

“And we saved a hell of a lot more.”

“Good for them.” Ted pulled himself up and nodded to Gramok and the steward. “Let’s go.”

At least his new robe repelled blood.

Steward Frieda led them up a flight of stairs to a fortified building set into a rock spire. The heavy metal door groaned as it opened. Inside stood more soldiers, all on high alert. The steward nodded to them as she passed, and strode into a large, noisy room.

Ted ducked in through the doorway. A large table dominated the room, with a detailed map of Valbort laid out upon it. Ornately armored dwarves huddled over it, their heads uncovered, all deep in conversation except for one. He stood at the head of the table, silent and grim, his gilded armor gleaming in the room’s magical glow.

Frieda stepped forward and stiffened. “Sir Gramok Kadora and company, for Lord Tonvalbortdelan!”

The silent dwarf looked up, and a smile almost made it across his lips. “Gramok! It’s good to see you.”

“Ardic?” Gramok kneeled and embraced the dwarf. “Where’s your father?”

Ardic scoffed. “My father, Lord Tarpranakrinil, and the rest of my esteemed family are very well, last I heard. And this is a council of war—Lord Tonvalbortdelan, please, or at least lord, in front of my men.”

“Of course, Lord Tonvalbortdelan. So, the old man got a new Lord-line and left you this old chestnut?”

Ardic exhaled deeply. “Indeed. The dungeon spawn attacks began several weeks ago. I… Is it the same elsewhere?”

“It is. We’re searching for a way to stop it.”

“I should have known you weren’t here to help us.” Ardic sighed. “We can barely hold the line with the troops we have.”

Frieda took another step forward. “My lord, they helped save many of those injured in the last attack, free of charge.”

“They did? Definitely not Lord Kadora’s men, then. What do you need?”

Gramok glanced at the map. “Maps, leading below the Ruins of Tarkath.”

Ardic recoiled. “Below the ruins? If you really wish to die, be my guest. At least do the courtesy of writing a suicide note for your father.”

A dwarven soldier approached. “My lord, what troops to put on the East Gate?”

“The East Gate?” Ardic blinked, his face blank, and turned to Frieda.

There was a long pause, and the tension in the room rose a few notches.

Eventually, she bowed her head and answered. “The gate is narrow, the rock firm, and the runes fully intact. A few of the older men or boys could watch it.”

“Yes, yes,” Ardic said. “You’re right. Do as she says.”

The soldier hesitated and glanced at Frieda.

“She’s my steward, and I gave you an order. Carry it out, and then find Sir Gramok here maps of the ruins, and whatever we have from below. Good maps! He’ll be in the tavern.”

The dwarf snapped a salute and marched out of the room.

Ardic shook his head slightly and sighed again. “Gramok, Edwin, Cara—you’re welcome in our town, however long it’s still standing for. Frieda, I need you here, commoner or not.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Gramok bowed, and headed for the door.

Ted looked around, unsure of the protocol here. Seeing Cara already leaving, he gave a quick bow and hurried behind. The sooner they were out from under nobility, the better.

“I assume we’re headed to the tavern?” Cara asked.

“Of course! It’s not a bad tavern, all things considered.”

Ted snorted. “We’re not here to drink. We get the maps, find a path down, and move on. That’s the plan.”

“Sorry, Gramok, I gotta agree with Zero Fun on this one.”

“What? The tavern is the best place to gather information!”

Cara gently punched him on the arm. “Best place to get a drink, too.”

Gramok waved his hand. “Pfft, who’d want to drink mushroom beer, anyway?”

Ted shook his head and looked away. Those two didn’t know when to shut up.

At least Valbort had plenty more to see than another cave. A row of oxen and carts. A forge, overflowing with activity. Another plaza, surrounded by ornate stone buildings, with a marble statue looming at the center.

Ted froze, staring up at the statue, unable to believe his eyes.

It couldn’t be.

“That statue…” His stomach clenched into a ball of pain. He dragged his arm up and pointed at it. “Who is that?”