As the party ventured deeper into the heart of the dwarven kingdom, they found themselves within a tunnel unlike any they had traversed before. The passage was lined with runes that glowed with multiple shades of ethereal light, casting a spectral illumination on the ancient stone walls. These runes, etched with meticulous care, pulsed gently, their light ebbing and flowing like the quiet breath of the earth itself. Between them, patches of lichen clung to the rock, emitting a soft, bioluminescent glow that added to the otherworldly ambiance of the tunnel.

We moved in silence, their footsteps muffled by patches of velvety moss that carpeted the tunnel floor. The only sound was the distant drip of water, and the soft whispers of their breathing. The silence was oppressive, each of us knowing the other knew something was about to go down. It was expectant, like all of those times I'd been waiting to start a speedrun, my heart paused for the click of a button.

I found my thoughts drifting to the legends and lore of the dwarves. They'd been some of my favorite beings in Lords of Chaos, and I wondered about the stories these runes could tell. In the game they often offered hints and secrets if you had the ability to decipher them. I reached out, my fingers hovering just above the glowing symbols.

Runes of many levels, from many schools of magic, Jeldorain informed me. This whole structure is very old. It might have once been a temple to my kind, though an infernal of all the elements is something I do not recall from any of my past lives.

Beside me, Ike, grunted and coughed. “These runes,” he began, his voice a hushed whisper, “what stories do they hold? What magic powers them?”

The dwarven heroes, who had been leading the way in stoic silence, paused. Mesta turned. “We do nah speak here,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “The chamber is of other times.”

Her words hung in the air, mixing with the paranoia of the moment. I wondered if this wasn’t akin to some anti-PVP zone, where we’d get fried for attempting any hostilities. Assuming we were allowed to engage in them at all. I looked back over my should to where we’d come from. If that were the case, it made sense for them to let the army go.

Jeldorain laughed. You are stuck in their city, surrounded on all sides. There are many reasons it makes sense that they let their soldiers go. Especially if this is a trap.

We continued on, our progress slow and deliberate. The glowing runes guided us forward, flickering at times, flashing at others.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ike whispered.

“Shush it,” Mesta said, her voice an angry whisper. “We aren’t far now.”

As we moved further, the tunnel began to widen, revealing small rooms and chambers that branched off from the main path. In these areas stood statues of various unrecognizable beings, infernal in nature. Jeldorain stirred within me, eagerly assessing the figures as they came into sight. The infernals were large and strong, stony faces etched with the pride and strength of a bygone era. Their eyes, carved from dark stone, seemed to follow us as we past.

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“Infernals,” Kevinar breathed.

Mesta nodded, but shushed us again. “Legend says they are trapped here, and that those are not statues. We best be quiet.”

The tunnel continued to unfold before them, an endless tapestry of light and shadow. The air grew warmer now, and the moss underfoot disappeared into a more manufactured enlacing of stone cobble. I could hear low chatter now ahead, guttural voices speaking in what I recognized as common, though I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

The passageway turned sharply then suddenly broadened into a large, dimly lit dungeon that starkly contrasted with the otherworldly beauty of the tunnel. This place was obviously dwarf-made, in the same way that it was obviously a dungeon. Iron bars and stone walls faced us on all other sides, cells big and small, but the one opposite the tunnel entrance. The doors there looked stout but manmade, and I had no doubt it led up to the king and his court.

The question is, Jelodrain asked, interrupting my thoughts, will they take us through them?

As we entered, I checked our surroundings more thoroughly. In the cells, a variety of orcs and dwarves were confined together, each of them now sullen and quiet as they peered out at our group. The orcs were tribals, almost certainly from above, while the dwarves were obviously people of the kingdom. I turned to gaze at Theor even as he turned to gaze at me.

“Ye stand in the threshold of the king of Khazud-Tharik, last of the Infernulgar. Infernal ye be, by proof of your tongue. Only ye shall pass. Here we must stable yer followers til audience has been met.”

I felt Jeldorain slap himself on his glowing spiritual forehead. The Infernulgar! They worshipped us all in the good times. But I’d thought they’d all gone extinct. Yes. Yes! We should go to their king!

“You said you would take us to the King,” Kevinar growled. “Us, not one. Do the rules of hospitality not extend to the Infernulgar?”

Theor growled back. “We be a cautious and hard people, elf. The lands that we have, we held against many. Our infernals, the lot of them, they were made vicious and mindless, wrecked in mind til we froze them in stone. But a return of the greater beings, this is something that must be discussed between ourselves. Decisions must be made. These are things to which thralls of the Infernal Lord Ryan should not be privy to. Ye ken?”

“Diplomatic, Ryan.” Ike said. “Go with them. We’ll be alright here.”

Kevinar shook his head and muttered. “Ike, I don’t like this. Ryan’s strong, but the world of the deep is not one worth trusting. We need to be by his side when things go wrong.”

We can talk to them. Convince them. Stand up, great leader. Take charge! Jeldorain asserted.

“If any trouble rises up, I’ll handle it,” I said, though doubt swarmed through me. I had a lot of power, a ton of abilities, but if I ran down my specials, mana, and exertion, I’d be as vulnerable as the next hero. Still, Ike was right. We wanted these guys on our side.

Kevinar stared, then nodded.

“Ye’ll be handing over your inventories, of course,” Mesta declated. The dwarves moved forward towards my companions.

“They stay equipped and ready,” I warned, apparating my icechuke for good measure. Mesta glanced over at Theor, who nodded. Muttering arcane words, the doors of an empty cell opened to my friends, who walked in quietly. The door disappeared after.

“Follow, Lord Infernal,” Theor said, turning on his heel. “The king has much to discuss.”