The Master of the Crypt of Splinters lead them up a different staircase, at the top of which was a long, low passage that Leőn and the Orc had to stoop to walk through. It lead in a gradual but long upwards incline. He lit the way for them with a flaming brand in one hand, his wooden cane in the other, tapping rhythmically on the stone as he hobbled ahead of them.

They followed, reluctantly.

"Do you undersstand what the Sshadow Wastess are?" the old rat asked them as they walked.

The Orc probably did, but he'd gone silent again. Leőn looked at him, and seeing he wasn't planning on speaking, spoke up, "We'd benefit from the telling."

"Thiss iss and alwayss hass been, as far as anyone can remember, a barren wasste. It'ss a pole... are you familiar with the term?"

"Oh, you mean like the axis of rotation?" Like the pivot point of the planet? Like where Santa Claus lives," said Kylie, "sure, I know what you mean!"

The old rat gave her a strange look, "I ssee. I'm not quite ssure what you mean by all that, fae. I meant the affinity pole. The Sshadow Wasstes are a dark affinity pole. Thiss iss the land that iss furthest from the ssun, and for half of the year, it iss sso far from the ssun, that there iss no light here at all. That time will be ssoon."

Leőn nodded, "The Elves are taught that away across the seas, there is Ilúani; the Transcendent affinities belt. The Lands of Light, the birthplaces of our archetype. Or so we're told. It would make sense for there to be an equivalent opposite."

The old rat nodded, "I ssee. Maybe thiss iss sso. My life hass been alwayss been here, after I ran from the ssewers of my birthplace. I know nothing of thosse placess. Dark placess like thiss attract dark creatures. Like me. I wass a young, dissplaced ratman with few prosspects beyond fighting for ssurvival in the underworld of the Lizard Empire, but here I found a life where I could eke out a living in relative peace. I didn't ssee evil in the darkness, rather I wass fasscinated by the opportunitiess that lightless ssolitude could provide me in abandoned places like this one. I meditated long, and grew sstrong in my ssolitude, that iss, until more like minded brotherss and ssisters found their own wayss here. Now we may sseem many, but we are one. We are the sswarm of the Ssplinter. But peace and ssolitude aren't the only thing that drawss creaturess into darkness.

"For ssome, like our neighbourss, the Black Orcss, the Night Goblinss, and more recently their coussins, who fled from the burning cavernss of a Goblin town far away; the Sshadow Landss are a place for the dissplaced, their only choice to inhabit a wasste that no one elsse wantss or daress to follow them into.

"And then there are thosse who are drawn to the darkness for the other affinity it harbourss. The power of thiss..."

They had arrived at the end of the passage. It stopped abruptly, and thick, black iron bars partitioned it from open air beyond.

They were looking out over the wind whipped Shadow Wastes from a high vantage point in what must have been the side of a cliff. A wind like a gale howled and whipped around the cliffside. It was sunset outside the Crypt, and the small weak sun was hanging low on the horizon, a sickly red. It was still bright enough to see what was below, however.

There was a large structure that stuck up from the otherwise flat plain. It was a henge gate, two dark grey megalithic stones stood straight up from the ground, reaching high into the air, with a third similarly giant stone sitting across the top of them. In the opening of the gate there was simply black emptiness.

Around the base of the gate was a city of ruined buildings. The buildings were made of dull grey stone and were cracked and tumbled down from hundreds years of neglect and ruin, yet their stonework was ornate and when they were built they would have been magnificent works of architecture. There were churches with tall narrow spires and belltowers, that once would have had vaulted ceilings supported by decorative flying buttresses.

Gargoyles stood watch over churchyards full of lopsided gravestones, surrounded by rusted wrought iron fences.

There were large square crypts surrounded by decorative columns with domed roofs, carved figures eternally protecting the occupants, or maybe they were statues of the occupants; the relentless wind had whittled away their recognisable features.

There were pyramids of stone, with protective Lizard creatures watching over their ancient royal leaders, surrounded by carved pillars inscribed with pictures and unrecognisable glyphs.

There were monuments and commemorative obelisks lining wide paved avenues that lead outwards from a wide flat circular central space where the megalith stood towering over everything else.

It was a Necropolis.

"That iss the dark pole," rasped the rat, "The other affinity that thrives here, is the undeath affinity. That structure is a Lich gate."

In between the ruined churches and tombs and obelisks below there was movement. It was a shambling movement, of thousands of...

"Are they... skeletons?" asked Kylie in disgust.

The old rat nodded in answer, "And more besides."

"how iz de skelly-tonz aliv?" asked Gob, "i fort skelly-tonz iz ded peepl?"

"They aren't alive." answered the old rat sadly, "thiss necropoliss wass built here many hundredss of yearss ago as a place for peace and resst. The Lich gate is possitioned directly on the dark pole, and was ssupposed to protect againsst the undeath affinity. It was ssupposed to protect the remains of the dead and offer them eternal resst. The Crypt of Ssplinters, as I told you, wass a place of darkness and ssolitude and peace. But now it is a Crypt of tortured ssouls and constant haunted moaning, and wailing."

"How?" asked the White Orc, speaking for the first time since his attack on the old rat.

"A Lich Queen." answered the rat, "Sshe was hardly the firsst. This place attractss all ssorts of weirdoss and grave robberss. I've seen some very sstrange visitorss and ssome very unssettling ritualss down there. But that one, sshe did ssomething to the gate. Through ssome powerful magic sshe turned it from a protection to a cursse. The ghostss in this Crypt sstarted rissing out of their tombss, the sskeletons dug themsselves out of the churchyardss, the Lizard embalmed, still wrapped in their linen bandagess, sscratched their way out of their ssealed sstone pyramidss."

"To what purpose?" asked the Orc.

The old rat shrugged, "Power? Dominion? Unfettered evil? World Domination? I don't know. All I know is that sshe will come. Sshe will come for the ghostss in the Crypt and then sshe will kill the sswarm, and claim our ssouls and bodiess too. Then the Orcss and the Goblinss. And then, and then, and then... that is the eternal problem with the undeath. It wants to claim all. Sshe iss the mosst powerful I have sseen. But there iss alwayss balance in thiss world. Undeath will never overcome life. A power will risse to counter herss. I ssee thiss."

"And you think that's us?" growled the Orc, "We aren't your army. We weren't even going to come this way."

"i woz!" said Gob

The Orc ignored him, "Some demented necromancer isn't our problem, rat."

"I ssee..." said the rat, "Alright. Maybe that'ss true. We undersstand. There will be balance, ssomehow. If you are not that balance sso be it, you are free to sstay or go as you pleasse. I doubt my sswarm ever forced you to come here..."

The White Orc turned and walked away, stooped, back down the passage.

"You sank our ship!" said Kylie, "We were double crossed! We had no choice but to come!"

"I ssee. I wass of the undersstanding that your sship crasshed upon the rocks. Your captain wass being paid to bring you here and await your return. The General, Gar-thûn, wass not expected to casst him overboard. Thiss wass regrettable. Or fateful. You may decide."

"How did you even know we would be on the river?" asked Leőn, "We were supposed to be walking from the Mugwar Swamps."

"I ssee." said the Master of Splinters, turning to follow the White Orc back down the passage.

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Gob, Kylie and Leőn all stayed near the iron bars looking out over the Necropolis.

"we got to go dat way to git to de lizerd sitee don we?" said Gob. He'd picked out a particular skeleton and had followed it with his eyes as it staggered around the Nercopolis. In his darksight the skeleton, just like the ghosts Gob had seen earlier, didn't have the bright yellow, orange and red signature of the living, nor was it the ethereal purple of inanimate objects, but rather glowed a mysterious green.

"dat skelly-ton iz juz walkin in sercals... i fink iz a bit stoopid. i don fink dey wood be very danjerus. not lik de leech-zombees or dose grosniks."

"They're mindless until their summoner binds them and directs them. Then they're anything but stupid," said Leőn, "and unlike the zombies or the Groshnickes, undead warriors use magic when they fight. Your stupid skelly can probably blast you with a whole lot of nasty business."

"What do you think is going on with White Orc?" Kylie asked Leőn, also still looking down at the shambling creatures and the Necropolis.

"Honestly Kylie, I don't know. For as long as I've known him he's always kept himself to himself. Since the temple dungeon, even more so. There's something very intense about him, that's for certain."

"wot woz dat stuf abot bein da armee jenaral?" asked Gob, "iz we goin to hav anova big battl?"

"Well this is your quest we're on Gob, we're just the support characters," said Kylie, "so you tell us... are we going to have another big battle?"

"yep!" said Gob, "an deres goin to be orcs an goblins an SKELLYS an GOSTS an RATTYZ!"

----------------------------------------

GAR-THÛN.

He stormed down the low passage back towards the Crypt entrance. The rat was up to something. He knew it. He could feel the power of the stooped little creature, and he was sure that rat could defeat any Lich. But he hadn't. That meant he knew something, or he was scheming something. He talked about solitude and peace and being one with his swarm... what was he really after?

Is everyone in this accursed world scheming something? he thought angrily.

It was all too much. All too hard. He wanted to go back to his cave. He wanted to be anonymous again. The orc with no name. Not to be part of anything, just to be alone, with his books, and his alchemy, and...

No... I don't. he suddenly realised, with simple clarity.

It was as if the final piece of a puzzle fell into place in his mind. He didn't want those things. Not really. Those things were easier... easy was desirable. Easy was comfortable. Easy was what people did when it got too hard to do what they really wanted to do. People spent their whole lives doing easy. Since when did the White Orc shy away from hard?

What he really wanted to do, really, was... exactly what he was doing.

He had passed level five! He'd successfully fused a life's worth of skills into a powerful epiphany. He was part of a foundational journey for Gob, a quirky little runt who was on track to becoming a powerhouse; was probably going to be among the most formidable Warriors in the Realm, and probably beyond.

The Ice Princess had called out a name for the Orc he'd never known he had, but had known was his the instant he heard it.

He had immediately accepted the obvious translation: rotten pale bloated one. That fit his story. His past story. A reject, a repulsive colour, left for dead.

The Master of Splinters had called out another name. The same name, but a different story. A story he hadn't lived yet. A story he would never have gone looking for. A story he wasn't even sure he was capable of. But how good had it felt in the Mugwar to rally the villagers under desperate circumstances and push them, and himself, to achieve the seeming impossible, and to defeat the enemy, together!

Gar-thûn. General. A potential future story that thrilled every fibre of his being.

But how could he, the reject, ever be that?

"You ssee..."

It was the rat. He had approached him silently, stealthily. There was no hobbling of the splintered wooden cane now.

"You choosse your path. There iss alwayss the one way and the other. There iss alwayss the path of ssolitude. I have walked thiss path. It iss a path that letss you to pretend you are not angry. Anger desstroys all around it. Alone, what iss there to desstroy... but yoursself. And desstroy you it will. Quietly, sslowly, ssurely, in ssolitude.

"Then there iss the path of the sswarm. Where the many rely on each other. Sspur each other on. You cannot hide in the sswarm. And you cannot sstay angry in the sswarm. You will be challenged. You will be refined. It iss a harder path. You will face your anger, everyday. But you will sshare thiss in the sswarm. You will learn that all are angry ssometimes, but none need be angry all the time. That iss no less true for a leader. In fact it is more sso. I ssee you, Gar-thûn. I ssee the sswarm around you. Sspurring you on, and you them. I ssee a great Orc. A General. A life that began in rejection and in the darkness of the cavess, but continuess forward in greatness and power, where all can witness."

"I accept," said Garthûn.

title:General(savage/crudealigned):+100spirit[unallocated],+100mind[unallocated], +100body[unallocated], +2honourguard[unselected]:[squire, herald, battlemount, thrall, standardbearer, bard, musician, tacticaladvisor, champion] emerged:leadership emerged:authority

"I ssee. You have chossen well. Now, a trial awaitss, and with it a great reward for a victoriouss General. Follow!"

The Orc looked strangely at the powerful little Master as he descended another staircase, this one very steep, into the darkness of the Crypt.

He was hobbling once again, but he wasn't moving slowly. As they descended, the Orc could hear the viewing whiskers of the swarm below, and soon they arrived at a large open cavern with hundreds of the ratmen.

The cavern wasn't made of the same carefully cut stones of the rest of the Crypt, but rather looked to be a natural cave that the Crypt stair led down into. It was wide and high, and long enough that he couldn't see an end to it in the darkness. The swarm of ratmen stood around the base of the stairs watching the Master expectantly.

"Welcome the GENERAL!" the Master rasped.

SCREEEE!

A pitched shout rang out from the swarm together, and they all stood straight and to attention.

"He will face the creature, and the outcome will determine our path through the underworld!"

SCREEEEEE!

They were clearly excited by this, and the air was followed by whispers and chatter.

The old rat turned to him,

"We are sseparated from the Necropoliss by a high cliff. I showed you the outlook before. The cliff is the reasson we have been, sso far, protected from the Lich Queen. The Crypt of the Ssplinter is at the top of the cliff, and the way down from it is many dayss walk in each direction. It is passable, but it isn't practical. Thiss tunnel iss known as the gate to the underworld. It descendss downwardss to the bottom of the cliff and would allow uss to march on the Necropoliss in force, however it'ss guarded by a powerful creature, who benefitss uss by not letting the Lich Queen'ss forcess into the Crypt, but alsso, dissadvantages uss; for neither does it let uss out.

"You must face the creature!"

SHREE!

"Then I will face it." said the Orc, "Where are my friends?"

"YOU must face the creature." said the rat, handing him a flaming torch on a stick, "You will understand why, when you do."

The Orc gave him a long look. Although he knew there must be a scheme in the small rat's mind, for some reason he trusted him enough not to question this. Anyway it was unlikely there would be a creature he couldn't kill by himself or at least escape from at his current level.

He walked forwards.

SHREE!

The whispers of the ratmen faded behind him as he walked down the long tunnel. It was dark here like the rest of the Crypt, but the moaning and the wailing and the howling wind didn't reach down here. It was still and silent. Until

GRRRRRRRRR... RAR! SNAP!

The extremely large maw of a creature savagely snapped shut right at the edge of the extent of the torchlight.

Thruuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmm

RARR! SNAP!

RARF! RARF! SNAP!

Then a second, and a third.

The Orc had cast his darkradiance immediately after the first snap, but nothing ever lunged at him out of the dark. Whatever had owned those jaws was extremely large, but it wasn't trying very hard to attack him.

GRRRRRRRRRR...

The growl was low and deep. A warning. More curious than afraid, the Orc edged forward, his flaming torch held out in front of him.

GRRRRRRRRRR...

The light of the fire lit up a snarling set of barred teeth. The teeth were each as long as his arm, the jaw opened horizontally and was located next to snarling drawn back lips and a large black wet nose. The Orc realised what he was looking at: whatever owned the nose and the jaws was lying on its side.

A pair of glowing red eyes opened, and

RARR! SNAP!

RARF! RARF! SNAP!

RR! SNAP!

It wasn't one creature, it was three creatures.

Three dog like creatures. But though they snapped at him they still didn't attack. He stepped forward again.

But then he saw it wasn't three dog like creatures after all; it was one enormous dog, with three box-like heads joined at a powerful bulky set of shoulders, to a thick muscular body.

The three headed dog was lying on it's side.

As he approached, out of range of the jaws the creature made to rise,

YEEELLLLPPPPP! AWRRRRR AWWRRR! GRRRR...

The Orc saw blood pooling on the floor beside it, and a large jagged and putrifying gash running up it's flank. The dog was already mortally wounded.

It was dying.