Bert was not surprised to see King Dagon outside the Waystation the following day. With a heavy sigh, Bert walked out into the cold to greet the strange King.

“I love the new waitstaff!” King Dagon bellowed as he took a steaming mug from a tray held by the robed form. “Very nice! Yes!”

“So when do we get to the bit you actually care about?” Bert asked flatly.

“Not one for small talk, are you?” Dagon grinned.

“Not really,” Bert admitted. “So?”

“Once you finish your quests, we will talk,” Dagon winked. “Let’s not skip the fun!” He laughed.

“Orbs for the remaining rewards?” Bert asked.

“Of course, else you would leave.”

“Probably,” Bert admitted, crossing his arms.

Dagon just laughed again, standing in the falling snow as comfortably as Bert. That was interesting.

“We have two left. Any requests?” Bert offered.

“Many,” Dagon said seriously, “Many, and more. But they must wait, see?”

“Why?” Bert asked, “Why do it like this?”

Dagon shrugged and then seemed to think of something.

“Now that you mention it,” He stared off into the distance for a moment, “There is something I could ask… oh, but should I?” He laughed again. “Oh, why not?” He turned back to Bert. “Do the Temple next, yes? And do it alone.”

“Why?” Bert asked.

“I will not say,” Dagon said, “But it would be interesting. Much more dangerous… yes. But interesting.” He stared at Bert, “I would even offer an extra reward. Not an orb… but something you could use, yes.”

Bert stared back at the King. It could be a trap. A way to get him killed. Yet, looking at Dagon, the tanned King in the snow, he knew Dagon could kill him easily. There was no point in an ambush.

“Done,” Bert said with a tired sigh.

“Good!” Dagon laughed. “Good! I knew I liked you! Yes!”

The king turned and walked into the snow, leaving Bert to watch as the flakes fell around him.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” Bell asked doubtfully as Bert loaded his storage with food and supplies.

“Nope,” Bert kept packing.

“So why do it?” Bell asked.

“Something, I’m not sure what, but something is telling me this is part of the game.” Bert hesitated for a moment, then nodded and kept packing.

“What game is it?” Bell asked.

“I’m hoping that this is how we find out,” Bert admitted.

“And if you die?” Bell demanded.

“Call me back,” Bert shrugged. “I’ll just be in the Summerlands after all.”

“I don’t know if I could do that!” Bell said.

“I don’t know I’ll die,” Bert grinned.

“If you do, I get to stab you every day for a year!” Bell demanded.

“What?” Bert gaped at her.

“That’s the deal, or I’m going with you!” Bell yelled.

“Fine, fine.” He laughed.

“Fine!” She snapped, slapped him, then hugged him.

“Wish me luck!” He called back as he trotted down the ramp and into the snow.

“Don’t be lucky, be careful!” She called back.

Bert waved over his shoulder and started to jog towards the city.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. What reason did he have to even do this? Anxiety twisted in his gut, and Bert took a moment to calm himself. He had been out on his own before.

He managed okay then, and he was stronger now.

More than once, he almost stopped and turned back. It wouldn’t even be that bad if he did. They would still get the orb if he did the quest with others.

Yet.

What would he learn? What would the King learn?

Bert really hated playing a game by someone else’s rules. Especially when no one would tell him what those rules were or even what game it was.

Still.

Bert sped up, his booted feet crunching through the snow with new energy. There was only one thing he could reasonably do.

Roll the dice and hope that they roll his way.

The gate of the city approached, and instead of a Bard, as he had expected, he saw the King.

“Hello again,” Bert said, slowing to a stop a few feet back. “Coming with me?”

“No!” Dagon laughed. “No! I can not.” He waved it off. “I came merely to tell you there will be no Bard this time.”

“And here I was thinking that was the point,” Bert grinned.

“Ah yes,” Dagon laughed. “A good point, but this game is different now.” He scratched the back of his head with one huge hand. “I will see the story as I see many other things, little Lord.”

“I’m not really much of a Lord,” Bert admitted. “I’m more of a Garbage Man, to be fair.”

“I’m not really a King,” Dagon smiled, his grin several times wider than his face. “I’m more… something else.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Bert said, trying to ignore the smile. “Do they know?” He gestured to the city.

“Some do, some don’t,” The King admitted, and Bert noticed he was taller now, at least twelve feet, and still growing. “None care.”

Bert looked at the colossus in front of him and thought for a moment.

“Which way am I headed?” Bert asked.

“I should know?” Dagon asked, still smiling. “It is a lost temple, after all.”

Bert just stared at him.

“That way,” The King laughed and pointed over the city. “You will know it when you see it, little Earthling!”

Bert whirled back, eyes narrowing at the thing that was the King. It was not human, not any race he knew. Close to twenty feet tall, with more arms than the average biped had any right to. The more it moved, the more of it there appeared to be.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“What are you?” Bert asked.

“Ah, that, little Lord,” Dagon laughed, “That is beyond your mind to know.”

Bert stared for a moment.

“How many dimensions are you working with there?” Bert asked finally, “Five, six?”

Dagon blinked.

“Interesting thing,” Bert said to himself. “A theory I once read in a magazine said that anything like you would have difficulty interacting with those in fewer dimensions.” He walked towards the King, seeing the eyes widen. “Something about the nature of reality in points of contact.

“Enough!” The King shrank back to his original size as Bert kept walking. “Do not come any closer!”

Bert smiled as he came to a stop.

“Surprising creatures,” The King said thoughtfully, “But that was a risk, little Lord. How could you be sure?”

“I wasn’t,” Bert admitted. “But I did notice the snow.” He gestured at the flakes gently falling around them.

The King looked up and frowned. “So?”

“They fell through you,” Bert said simply.

The King looked at him and laughed. The snow began to land on him as he laughed.

“Very good, little Lord, very good.” His eyes sparkled. “And what does that tell you?”

Bert smiled back at the thing that would be King, “That you have to concentrate to become solid in this world.” It also meant the King wasn’t all-knowing or all-powerful, as much as he liked to seem like he was. That bit he kept to himself.

Just in case.

“That is the problem with you Earthlings,” Dagon chuckled. “You see so much more than you should.” He turned and walked off into the city without a backward glance. “Good luck, mister observant! I will be watching; yes, I will!”

===========

“Dagon, you absolute bastard!” Bert laughed as he stood before the ruins. It hadn’t even been a long walk to get here. The ‘Lost Temple’ was barely ten minutes outside the city, at the base of a mountain.

So much for being lost; a paved path ran right up to it.

So much for being a Temple, it might once have been, but it was certainly not one now.

A woman hung out of one of the marbled archways on the second story and waved.

“Looking for a good time?” She winked.

Dagon had sent him to a brothel.

Someone had taken the ruins and used wood to replace the collapsed sections. In fairness, the original temple seemed to have been built of something like rose marble, so it certainly looked the part.

Braziers on either side of the entrance kept the worst of the cold at bay while incense burned to add a sweet spice to the air above them. The bouncers were staying close to the braziers to accommodate their almost total lack of clothes. They were oiled, with only a thin loincloth to cover themselves. They looked miserable but straightened and flexed their muscles as he approached.

“Welcome to the Temple of Delights!” The pair called as he passed beneath the archway and into a smoky, covered courtyard with several braziers surrounded by low couches, piles of furs, and, in one case, giant pillows.

“Welcome to the Temple of Delight, virile traveler!” A woman sauntered towards him, hips swinging as she carefully arched her back to show off her bare chest as favorably as possible. “Men, women, and everything in between. We can fulfill even the most hedonistic of desires. How can I quench your thirst?” She licked her lips and winked.

Bert kept his eyes firmly fixed on her face, despite her best efforts to direct his attention in other directions.

“I’m here on a quest, actually.” He said, “Something about the Lost Temple?”

She blinked at him carefully. “Can I not tempt you to indulge?” She ran her hands down her body suggestively.

“No, sorry,” Bert smiled politely.

“Oh, thank the gods!” She shivered and snapped her fingers. A thick wool coat appeared around her, which she hugged to her. “It’s too bloody cold for this!”

“Braziers don’t do much with that archway open all the time?” Bert guessed.

“It’s snowing!” She moaned. “And we have to dress like it is high summer! I’m seriously thinking about moving to another brothel. I mean,” She gestured at the surroundings, “Great ambiance, but this place is not suited to winter!”

“You own the place?” Bert asked.

“We have collective ownership,” She said while rubbing her arms. “Equal shares in the project and everything.”

“Nice,” Bert nodded as he looked around the place. “Have you considered switching to a winter theme when it’s this cold?”

“Like what?” The woman asked, “No one wants to have sex with someone all wrapped up in clothes!”

“I was thinking more of a snow-bunny thing?” Bert asked.

“Rabbits?” The woman squinted at him, “Is that some kind of fetish?”

“No!” Bert felt himself blushing. “I meant, well,” He took a deep breath, “Okay, furs everywhere, more fires, heavy fur, and leather to block off the gap.” He pointed at the archway. “Then your people wear thigh-high fur boots, fur wrapping on your arms, and fur cloaks with hoods and such?” He thought about it. “Maybe a skirt or kilt as well, something like that?”

She thought about it, then held up a hand and yelled over her shoulder.

“Dave! Hey, Dave!”

An oiled man slinked out of a hidden doorway, eyes burning with desire, until he saw the woman in her coat. He relaxed and summoned his own jacket, stomping over with heavy boots.

“Everything okay, Marlene?” He asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. Hey, listen to this,” She motioned for Bert to repeat what he had just said.

He did, and then the two of them started to call others, getting third, fourth, and fifth opinions. Someone went and got the two bouncers after a while, and then a big closed sign was pounded into the snow outside.

“We have work to do,” Marlene said excitedly while the others bickered about design choices and where to buy the furs. “What exactly did you come here to do?”

“No idea, really,” Bert admitted. “Mind if I just poke around a little to see if I can find anything strange?”

Marlene looked at him for a bit, then seemed to make up her mind.

“Fine, just don’t knick anything, okay?” She asked.

“Promise,” Bert smiled politely.

Bert started at the top of the remains of the temple, checking for anything that seemed quest-worthy. He found nothing besides a few alarming machines, outsized toys, and a couple of wrong turns.

Well, in truth, he found a lot, just nothing that he cared to remember. It seemed the occupants had tried to create a room for all tastes. And some people had some disturbing tastes.

The bed that appeared to be a giant tongue, complete with drool, was one he would not forget in a hurry… as much as he would like to.

By the time he got back down to the ground floor, the entryway had already been transformed. It was substantially warmer, even if there was still a slight chill in the air.

“Find what you were after?” Marlene called as she helped another woman hammer nails into the stonework to hold up another fur.

“Not really. Does this place have a cellar?” He asked.

“Oh. yeah.” She whistled. “Patty, show him the cellar, will ya?”

Another woman waved at him, so he followed her into another winding corridor.

“It’s this way,” She waved him on, a bouncy hairdo and a pair of booted feet the only thing he could see other than her massive fur coat. “We found it a while back and thought maybe a dungeon set, but…” She trailed off.

“Better to be somewhere with multiple exits, and someone can listen out for problems?” Bert guessed.

“Pretty much,” Patty laughed. “Not your first time in a brothel, is it?” She asked.

“Actually, it is,” Bert admitted. “But people are people, right?”

“You’ve never been to a brothel?” She asked. “Religious type?”

“Not really,” Bert shrugged. “Just didn’t have many where I was from.”

“Well, you’re here now, honey,” She laughed. “I could always add extras to this tour if you like!”

“Thanks, but I’m with someone.” He smiled.

Patty just laughed and stopped at a set of stairs revealed by some fallen masonry.

“Here we are,” She shivered. “Cold down there. Will you be okay?”

“The cold doesn’t bother me. Thanks for your help,” Bert waved as she hurried back to the relative warmth of the covered courtyard.

The stairs themselves were rather short. It was less than a single turn until he entered a low-roofed room with pillars everywhere to support the floor above. Other than the pillars, it was completely empty.

Bert moved forward in a crouch, running mana through his shield to make it glow to light the way. He had changed his prosthetic hand into a crossbow the moment he had started down the stairs.

Call him paranoid, but he still wasn’t sure the King was trying to kill him.

Searching back and forth across the massive room, moving between the support pillars as he needed to, Bert looked for anything to show a change in the uniformity around him.

He was just about halfway through his search and half convinced the King had just added this place as a joke when he saw the corroded bronze circle set into the floor.

It wasn’t in the center of the room but rather offset towards the back of the ruins. Still, it was clearly something important. The surface was covered in faded patterns that were lost beneath the corrosion.

Bert checked the stones, pillars, and everything around the massive bronze disk but could find no way of opening it that he could activate. That it opened was not really in doubt as the design was familiar. It looked like an outsized manhole cover.

He tried to pour a small amount of mana into it, to no real effect, so he did the only thing he could think of. He used his shield as a crowbar to lever it up and slide it aside. Once it was slid away, he sniffed carefully at the air coming from it. Anywhere closed up for a long time could easily have built up toxic things in the air. He didn’t smell anything, so he took a small bit of wood from his bracer storage and used the heat rune to light it on fire.

Then he leaned away from the hole and chucked the burning stick inside.

No explosion, no roaring fire. The air smelled okay, but he pulled a small bundle of leaves from his belt pouch; it was one of Scruff’s ideas that he was really pleased with.

The little vine wound itself around his arm and settled in place. The leaves would droop and fade if there was too little oxygen in the air and curl up if there was any type of acid or poison in it.

Bert sat on the edge of the hole for a few minutes, keeping an eye on the little vine. He had named it the Canary Vine, and was delighted to see the name showed even on identify. It was quite an honor to name a new species, after all.

While he waited for the little plant to react to the air from below, Bert considered his life choices.

They had led him here, after all. After a few minutes of consideration, Bert decided he was quite happy with his life.

With a laugh, he dropped into the darkness below.