“Day 2 Morning: Our entrance into the Abyss proceeded with little issue. The stairs down were maintained but unlit. Fortunately we had plenty of torches, because not only did we need to light our initial decent but also the many lamps in the rooms beyond.

We’ll be stopping periodically as we explore to make records of what we find so I expect to make multiple diary entries per day.

The first room felt far too tall for the depth we had descended, proving to me immediately that the space within the Abyss and the physical earth around it weren’t always related. But whether that meant we had descended further than we thought, the room itself was smaller than it appeared or it was somehow forcing itself into a smaller space while magically maintaining its larger dimensions I did not yet know. It was clear to me this would need much more study.

Professor Oliver Lambourne, Direst for the Guild of Explorers.

The sudden sound of clattering hooves made them turn. Atop the hill looking down on them a man dressed in robes similar to the ones Arahn’s lawyer had been wearing at the trial. For a moment Arahn thought it was the same man, but his wild ginger hair clashed so badly with the baby blue colour of his clothes there was no mistaking them for each other. The red-head on the horse was breathing hard from the ride as though he’d run there carrying the horse rather than the other way around.

“I’m looking for Arahn Kays,” he panted looking between them.

Calan’dal nudged his staff in Arahn’s direction. The man on the horse visibly sagged with relief.

“I’m so glad I managed to catch you,” he said, sliding off his horse too fast and nearly face-planting in the dirt. He quickly brushed himself off and started rummaging through his horse’s saddlebags. “The details of your sentence kept changing around at the last minute, so I kept missing you.”

The man produced a fat scroll and a small square box and slid down the hill to join them. When he reached them he handed the box to Arahn and unfurled the scroll.

“Alright, let’s see here. By the power vested in me by the sovereign state of Batherius and by my clients Baxter and Alice Thorten—“

“Clients?” asked Arahn confused.

“He’s a lawyer, I believe,” said Calan’dal. “Am I wrong?”

“Yes, I mean no, that’s correct,” said the ginger gentleman before returning to his scroll. “As hired legal counsel it is my duty to impart details of the recently deceased’s final will and testament, to the partial beneficiary Arahn Kays. Ah, which is you.”

“Mrs Thorten left me something in her will?”

“Well yes, I mean, that’s what it says here.”

“But why would she add me to her will?” asked Arahn confused. “I’d only been living with her a few months. It’s not like we were related or anything.”

“Mrs Thorten’s will wasn’t very long. She left some money to her local bridge club, a distant cousin in Athuria got the house and most of the furniture, and there were a few other bits and bobs that were spread amongst her friends in the village. But for this item, ahem, To my renting tenant, I leave the contents of the box I have left in the care of the Post Office in Pernrith City.”

“Renting tenant?”

“Yes, that’s what it says. You know, it’s interesting actually. I thought it was going to be more difficult to get my hands on it, you know how the Post Masters are, but one of them arrived on my doorstep the morning after her passing. I hadn’t even started filing the paperwork yet. The difficult part was finding you actually. I had to ask around town to find out who her current tenant was as there was no name.”

“Sounds like she wanted to get rid of it,” grunted Morvar.

“How recently was her will updated?” asked Calan’dal curious.

“Shortly after her husband’s death,” said the lawyer. “That was, let’s see, nearly three years ago now.”

“So it’s not me she left this to, it was whoever was renting from her three years ago,” said Arahn.

He held out the box for the lawyer to take back, but the ginger man shook his head.

“As long as I’ve been handling her legal affairs Mrs Thorten has never been without a tenant. I believe if she meant for this item to go to a specific individual she would have said as such. She just wanted it to go to whoever was renting from her at the time of her death. Perhaps she merely wanted to thank her tenant for their company.”

Arahn pulled the top off the small box and removed the object within. It was a pocket watch. Made of simple tarnished brass with a big winding knob on the top and a button to flip open the cover. It looked old and not very well taken care of, and when Arahn pressed the button to open it, nothing happened. He then tried to open the cover by force, then tried again with his thumb pressed tight to the button. Nothing.

“Hmm,” mused Calan’dal leaning over the boy’s shoulder.

Arahn handed the watch to him when he held out a wrinkled hand. The elf turned it over a few times in his hands, trying everything Arahn had and a few things he hadn’t including gently biting it, before pursing his lip at it while holding it in front of his face by its chain. “How interesting.”

“Looks busted,” piped up Lem.

“So it would seem,” said Calan’dal, handing the timepiece back to Arahn. “Well whatever the condition it’s in, it belongs to you now.”

Arahn couldn’t see how a broken pocket watch was going to help him any but with nothing else to do with it he put it in his pocket.

“Was there anything else?”

The lawyer quickly reread his paperwork then shook his head. “No, I think that’s everything.” He pulled a business card for his legal firm out of his robes. “Well, that’s me then, if you ever have need of legal advice, my rates are reasonable.”

Morvar watched the lawyer leave. He looked to the retreating horse, then to the entrance of the Abyss and back again. After a moment he rolled his shoulders and started walking in the direction the lawyer had left.

“Where are you going?” asked Calan’dal.

“I’m out,” he said with a gruff casualness, raising a hand in a careless wave. “Thanks for the prison break.”

“Hey! We had a deal!” the elf called after him.

“Well I’ve changed my mind,” said the troll. “Not gonna babysit you and your brats.”

“I said we had a deal,” repeated Calan’dal firmly.

The elf raised his carved staff and brought it down again, slamming it on the ground. The grooves that spiralled up its surface crackled with red light. Morvar grunted in pain and staggered, then fell hard to his hands and knees. Bands of light, like those on Calan’dal’s staff had materialised around the troll’s wrists, ankles and neck.

Calan’dal limped forward and moved to stand in front of the bound and kneeling troll using the glowing tip of his staff to tilt the man’s head up.

“Our contract will not be broken so easily,” said the elf, a dark edge bleeding into his manic voice.

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“What did you do?” Morvar demanded through gritted teeth.

“Insurance,” said the elf casually stepping back.

The lights faded but it took a moment before the troll managed to stagger to his trembling legs. He muttered something under his breath that made Calan’dal smirk. Suddenly Morvar lunged forward wrapping a massive hand around the elder’s skinny neck. The elf’s staff fell to the grass, his hands flying reflexively to his attacker’s wrist.

“Go ahead,” the elf wheezed. “Kill me. See how quickly you and kids follow!”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Mmm, could be! Want to take that bet?”

Morvar growled furiously, thick fingers twitching, but after a few long tense seconds he set the giggling elf down.

“Don’t mistake me, elf,” the troll spat as Calan’dal readjusted his collar. “I’ll find a way to make you suffer.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will,” said the elf cheerfully, gently patting Morvar on the arm as he moved passed him. “But not until I’m done with you.”

They gathered around the entrance to the Abyss and Arahn stared down the stairs into the inky void below. He couldn’t even tell how long the staircase was. It felt like as soon as the sun’s light passed through the doorway it vanished.

“Suppose it’s too much to ask that you brought some torches?” grunted Morvar, clearly still angry.

“There’s lights down at the bottom,” said Calan’dal.

“The bottom?” asked Cathran. “You’ve been here before?”

“Just the first room. Had a guy help me with some equipment last week. I told you I’d be preparing for this didn’t I?”

“I suppose…”

“Great, well then lady’s first!”

Cathran’s eyes widened and she hesitated, rocking slightly on the edge of the first step, unwilling to move. Until Morvar shoved passed her: “We haven’t got all day!” The twins giggled in unison and scampered after him. Finally Cathran took a step forward, Calan’dal close behind her.

The moment Arahn moved through the doorway the sunlight ceased to reach him, plunging the stairway into darkness. But not completely. Without the sun to distract him the length of the staircase became apparent, as did the flickering of distant orange light.

He could hear the heavy sound of the troll’s feet ahead, accompanied by the energetic pitter-patter of the goblins chasing after him. Cathran was just in front of him, taking the steps carefully but it was the elf that seemed to be having the most trouble even though he was the one who had been here before. The tap of his staff was loud on the stone stairs and as Arahn’s eyes started to get used to the gloom he could see Calan’dal’s hunched figure up against the wall, hand on it for balance.

“Do you, need some help?” Arahn asked hesitantly.

“You’re a good kid you know that?” said Calan’dal, though Arahn couldn’t tell if he was being complimented or insulted.

“Thank you?”

“Don’t worry about me, my knees are old and my back is old and well, my everything is old, let’s be honest and slippery stairs in the dark are not my first choice of terrain.” Calan’dal’s silhouette waved him away. “Go on, go see what’s downstairs. I’ll be with you before you know it.”

The room at the base of the stairs was of reasonable size and built of large square stone bricks. Six pillars supported an arched ceiling and the floor was polished flagged stone, while wrought iron torch brackets lined the walls. The entire room danced with the firelight from the many torches, illuminating the elaborate carvings on the walls.

“Wow,” said Evan and Lem, practically in unison as they stared up at the various scenes depicting vast armies of men in battle with a sky full of waring dragons.

In fact, dragons seemed to be the theme of the room. Each of the six pillars looked like a dragon’s head breathing fire at the ceiling and at the back of the room there were two huge stone doors, reaching to the ceiling and decorated with the images of five impressive looking dragons, three on each door. The dragons on the doors were interesting though because five of the six had large crystals in their eye sockets which were glowing an eerie red.

“Do you think they’re rubies?” asked Evan rubbing his hands together.

“Worth big gold,” added Lem.

“Rubies don’t usually glow,” said Arahn. “Whoa, what?”

As they watched, the clear crystal eyes of the sixth dragon bled red.

“Magic,” growled Morvar as though the word was a slur.

“Oh definitely,” said Calan’dal having finally joined them in the room. He limped over to them as fast as he could, grinning up at the stone door. “And it would seem my hunch was correct after all.”

Before anyone could ask what he meant there was a great explosion of sound, of rocks grinding against each other. Then the massive doors started to move outwards and the group had to scramble backwards out of the way. When they finally came to a stop fully open, Cathran rounded on the elf.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

Calan’dal laughed. “Simple really, we have enough people to enter!”

“What on Alvis are you talking about?”

“When I first discovered the entrance I came down here alone and only one of the dragon’s eyes were lit. I didn’t think much of it until I started planning a full expedition and brought someone with me to help carry some supplies. When we entered the room together I noticed that two sets of eyes were lit.”

“So with six dragons you figured you needed to come down here with at least six people?” asked Arahn.

“Exactly!” said Calan’dal sounding giddy as a school boy. “And here you are and here these doors are finally open, so it worked!”

“You said you had supplies?” growled Morvar.

“Oh yes,” said Clana’dal as though he’d forgotten. “Over there.”

In the centre of the four pillars closest to the stairs was a large wooden chest, and a number of leather backpacks and satchels. Calan’dal limped over to the chest and wretched open the creaking lid. It was full of weapons of all sizes, shapes and styles.

“There’s enough here for fifty people,” said Cathran.

“Well I didn’t know what my eventual teammates would need,” said Calan’dal. “So I bought these second-hand at auction. Got them for a steal too! So feel free to take whatever you want.”

The twins were the first to select their weapons but that was only because there was little for them to choose from. They were too small for much of what was there to be practical. Eventually Morvar managed to dig them out a pair of stiletto daggers, which may as well have been full swords in their small hands. For himself the troll chose a long and heavy, two-handed flanged mace, which he held easily in only one hand.

“I thought you’d go for the axes to be honest,” Calan’dal commented, watching Morvar take a few practice swings with it.

“Breaking skulls is more fun,” said the troll darkly, fixing the elf with a steady gaze.

“Oh I imagine so,” Calan’dal replied.

There were so many different kinds of weapons in the chest that Arahn felt a little overwhelmed. Maces, axes, spears, hammers, several different kinds of swords, how was he supposed to choose? Especially when he didn’t have any combat experience and had no idea how to properly use any of them.

Eventually Morvar pulled a short sword from the chest and thrust it into Arahn’s hands. “Here,” he grunted. “Sharp end goes in the bad guy.”

“Yeah thanks,” replied Arahn, unable to help the sarcasm in his tone, though he immediately regretted it when the troll raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“I want this,” said Cathran suddenly. She’d pulled an elegant looking short bow from somewhere near the bottom of the chest and was still rooting around looking for quiver and arrows.

“Oh that one!” said Calan’dal eagerly. “That one’s interesting. Came as the featured weapon for the auction lot.”

“Featured?” asked Evan.

“Mmm, each lot had at least one decent thing in it, you know, to encourage you to bid on the rest of the rubbish they were trying to unload. Go on, pull back on the string and see what happens.”

Cathran held up the bow, aiming away from the rest of the group just in case and pulled back as though she had an arrow nocked. After a moment there was a ripple of light from the white diamond shaped crystal set just above the grip. The light travelled along the wood and through the string until it coalesced near Cathran’s fingers, stretching out into the shape of an arrow. The light pulsed and then scattered into hundreds of little droplets which faded away leaving a solid iron tipped arrow nocked and ready to fire in the bow. Cathran released her hold on the tail and the arrow sailed across the room, hitting the opposite wall and bouncing off.

“That was quite a shot,” said Calan’dal.

“Horse riding and archery were compulsory classes at Laria Academy.” said Cathran. “I wasn’t top of my grade or anything but at least I can get the arrow to go in a straight line.”

A sudden excited exclamation made Arahn look down. Bored of their daggers the goblin twins had gotten themselves into one of the leather satchels. Lem had her entire head inside the bag, practically squealing with delight.

“Don’t eat it all!” scolded Calan’dal as the goblin reappeared, tiny fists full of what looked like dried meat jerky.

“You’ve got food?” Morvar roared.

“Of course I have food,” replied Calan’dal unbothered by the troll’s anger. “I said I brought supplies. Go on, go through them. Try not to eat everything.”

“This is very light,” mused Cathran mostly to herself when she picked up the bag closest to her. When she opened it though, her eyes widened. “My god!”

“Now I couldn’t get six Neverending Bags,” said Calan’dal. “Which was my original plan, but the price of moonsilk is just ab-surd right now. So instead I got some regular bags and had them enchanted.”

“More magic?” Morvar sneered now looking at the bag in his hand with distrust.

“Yes that’s generally what enchanted means,” replied Calan’dal unconcerned. “I was only going to get the big bag done, but the guy at the shop said if I had them all done he’d throw in the adjustable straps for free and seeing as I didn’t know who I’d be able to get at the time, having the bags wearable by anyone seemed like a good deal. They’re all half weight, so if you put a ten pound weight inside, pick it up, it’ll only feel like five pounds. I could have gotten quarter weight but I was starting to sneak out of my price range by that point and I still needed the supplies. I ended up just going to the adventurers’ guild and having them make me a list of things I’d need. I’ve got rations and water skins of course, good for about a week or so if we don’t go crazy, but also sleeping rolls for the six of us, candles and torches, tinderbox, note books and ink for my research, crowbar, soap and washboard, cooking gear, utility knife, and about a hundred feet of rope and climbing gear. Gentleman at the guild was really insistent about the climbing gear. Something tells me he’d had some bad experiences in the past.”

It definitely sounded like Calan’dal had tried to be as prepared for this expedition as he possibly could. Arahn was certainly impressed. So with a magically lightened bag, full to bursting with gear each and their chosen weapons at their sides the group approached the opened doors that led further into the Abyss, nervous but ready to face whatever lay ahead.