Aldritch didn’t know what to make of the four people kneeling in front of him.

  The dark-skinned elf had a strange mutation in his eyes. Aldritch had known many elves over his life and fought even more. So, he was - or at least, he thought he was an old hand at discerning an elf’s race. But the strange elf didn’t match any of the elven races he knew of.

  Dark-Elves or “Ludrokh'kel” had black or gray skin, red or purple eyes, and white hair - unless they chose to dye it. The cleric had none of these traits.

  Forest-Elves or “Narak'kel” shared his rich brown skin and matted, rope-like hair - but everything else was wrong. Narak'kel were the shortest elves by far, barely reaching five-feet tall. While this elf was easily six feet.

  As for the last race: Royal-Elves or “Thrauk'kel” shared his height and expressionless eyes, but not much else.

  Speaking of his eyes - Aldritch had never seen such solid irises before. To completely lack a sclera was… Fascinating.

  He wondered how the eye worked without a discernible pupil. Could he choose where to look or was his vision locked by the orientation of his skull? Did he have two-hundred and twenty-one degrees of vision like most elves? Was it more? Less? Was his vision monocular or binocular? Elves usually had fantastic kinetic vision - barring disease or injury, was that true for him too?

  The Thrummak (Orc) was also a novel sight. He’d never seen one so composed, so put together. Intelligence wise, orcs were usually on the same level as a gorilla - Though Aldritch had met a few who fell below that estimation. But this one was well groomed, with short black hair and a small patch of hair just below his bottom lip. His clothes, while overly revealing by Aldritch’s standards, were well-fitting and looked comfortable. He even smelled nice - a statement Aldritch never thought he’d get to say about a Thrummak.

  The Kharnak-Vorn (Hill-Dwarf) was, much to Aldritch’s relief, almost identical to the Kharnaki (Dwarves) he’d grown up with. Short, wide body built for explosive strength and above average endurance. This one was a bit rounder than the ones Aldritch knew, but that was common enough to be disregarded. Given enough food, any race could mimic the spherical brilliance of a globe.

  The last person was also the most fascinating. A shiny black coat, eyes that sparkled like emeralds - and stared at Aldritch with mixture of caution and more than a little fear.

  “Ah… I’ve made an error.” He’d been looking forward to talking to someone, anyone really. But the moment he laid eyes on that druu’roth (devil)… Well, that desire vanished faster than a keg of ale at a Kharnaki Goral'vak. (Wedding.)

  Druu’roth were – Are a problem that must be dealt with immediately, before they have the chance to contaminate the world with their foul presence. Every word that comes out of a Druu’Roth’s (Devil’s) mouth is a disease that taints the very air.

  But now that the Druu’roth was gone, Aldritch faced another problem – the people he’d been so keen on speaking with were looking at him like he was the monster in the room.

  Kneeling with one arm behind his back and the other extended was the proper way for a priest of Oakairo to greet a noble from a foreign nation.

  Now, he didn’t know if the people before him were nobles. But then again, he didn’t care either.

  The custom was started a little over nine-hundred years ago. And it was meant to fulfill two purposes - give the “other person” the dignity of a noble, and to make the priest seem as harmless as possible.

  Which made perfect sense to Aldritch… Even though he knew it to be mostly a lie. None of the other priests had ever greeted a foreign noble this way. It was only Aldritch who was forced to kneel due to his natural size and overbearing presence.

  He’d stopped greeting people this way after his ascension to high priest. But if it meant he could set these people’s minds at ease, even for a moment. He would tolerate kneeling before them.

  A silent conversation passed between Sulika and her three teammates. Aldritch waited for them to make the first move with his hand still extended - he didn’t mind waiting a minute or two for them to sort their thoughts.

  The silent dialogue ended with Sulika taking a tentative step forward, placing herself between Aldritch and her teammates. But she wasn’t the only one who moved, no, Ralocan moved to her left side while Derrik moved to her right. Zarud maintained his position at the back of the group, but kept his hand on his axe in case he had to step in.

  Aldritch took all this in without a word and continued to wait and see what would come of it. He hoped they’d take the initiative and explain where they’d come from without him needing to ask.

  In his experience, people - especially scared people - could get paranoid and defensive if they felt they were being interrogated. He couldn’t risk them shutting down and refusing to reveal the answers he sought. Not now, not after he’d finally found someone who didn’t stink of Druu’rothi rot.

  Sulika shoved her fear into the corner of her mind and took a half-step step forward. The Giant was dangerous, that much was obvious. Him kneeling like that gave her the impression he was friendly - Or wanted to appear friendly. But he couldn’t hide the interest in his serpentine eyes.

  They were… unnerving. Despite looking down at him, her reflection in his eyes looked so small. She felt like a rabbit, her body shivering in fear of the predator waiting to gobble her up in a single bite.

  However, given that he’d gone through the effort of introducing himself. She was somewhat confident he didn’t plan to kill them. At least, not yet. After all - Who would bother introducing themselves to someone they planned to kill?

  She reached out an arm to return his greeting and grabbed his wrist. She braced herself for the pain she knew would come the moment he tightened his grip on her.

  There were plenty of large men in the guild, and she knew most of them pretty well. Only a few of them had any interest in controlling their strength when they shook her hand. Some of them even made a game out of it - not just with her, but with any hunter they shook hands with. It was how they got around the ban on fighting inside the guild; Both hunters would put their all into the “friendly gesture” and whoever faltered first, lost the competition.

  So, she braced herself for the pain - Only for her eyes to widen in surprise. The Giant was gentle, almost impossibly so. She could barely feel any tension in his grip.

  “Sulika -” she said in a daze. But she recovered quickly and started over. “Sulika Wysarie. The three men behind me are Ralocan White-Eagle, Derrik Cazzuhk and Zarud. We’re from the Azuris hunter's guild. Are you our backup?” She asked while looking Aldritch up and down.

  He had the presence of a veteran warrior, but his palm was strangely smooth. Almost like someone who’d never trained in their life. The tattered cloth over his body reminded her of an old cleric’s robe, so that threw her first impression into question. Was he truly as dangerous as he first appeared or had the stress she’d been under finally caught up to her?

  Aldritch glanced at the three men who were watching him with equal parts nervous apprehension and hostility. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, they’d attack the instant they believed he’d harm the woman.

  Aldritch frowned as the woman’s words registered in his mind. He didn’t recognize the names she’d mentioned - Azuris? Hunters Guild? What in Oakairo’s name were those?

  “You should ask and find out.” Oakairo muttered from within the depths of Aldritch’s mind.

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve never even heard of Azuris. Is that where you’re from?” Aldritch asked. He’d chosen to focus on “Azuris” because it made the most sense contextually. He wasn’t a master of this new language yet, but that was the beauty of magic: It helped him pinpoint the speaker’s intent. From that, he could deduce that “Azuris” was likely the name of a place - Either a kingdom or the name of a city.

  “Hunter’s Guild” was a bit trickier. The spell told him “Hunter” translated to “One who tracks and kills.” and a “Guild” was a congregation of like-minded individuals who strive towards a goal greater than themselves.”

  That, combined with the way she’d been eyeing the Druu’roth earlier, gave him the impression that a “Hunter’s Guild” should logically be a gathering of assassins who slay devils… Right?

  If that was truly the case, then they were most likely hired to hunt down the Druu’roth - and he’d interfered with that duty.

  She’d also asked if he was their “backup”. The spell had trouble with that phrase and struggled to pick up her meaning. The best guess was “A slang term for militaristic reinforcements.” which would mean it wasn’t out of the question for someone to show up and kill their target.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  He’d gather a bit more information before coming clean about his appearance there.

  “Wow. Um – I didn’t realize they’d go so far as to summon someone from another island. Are you from Jolguay or Emsdows?”

  “No. I hail from Than Kahldur.”

  Sulika’s eyes bulged at that information and took another second to look him up and down. “You’re from one of the Dwarven colonies?” She asked incredulously.

  “You’ve heard of it?”

  “Mm.” Sulika nodded while still staring up at him. Now that she was looking for it, it wasn’t hard to see that the giant had the features of a dwarf. The bulbous nose, wide jawline, and slightly disproportionate limbs were clear indications of dwarven blood… But this guy was easily Zarud’s height, if not taller. There wasn’t a dwarf alive who could claim to be such a height.

  And that’s what was so troubling to her. She’d sensed no lies from him, and her family could sniff out a lie from a mile away. But, so far, Aldritch had been truthful. “You’re really a dwarf?” She asked after debating with herself for a few more seconds.

  “Half dwarf. My mother was a giant.”

  “Ah… Well, that certainly explains the height… and the bluish skin, now that I think about it.” Though she kept that last part to herself. “But your accent is strange. Is Kharrak your native tongue, or did you grow up speaking some other language?”

  “That’s an impolite thing to say.” Aldritch said, dropping the smile from his face. “Asking about my lineage is understandable and is a common enough question to be overlooked. But do you enjoy making fun of someone’s accent?”

  Sulika’s mouth dropped open out of shock. “I’m… sorry.” She shook her head. “You’re right, that was rude. I guess the events of the last twenty-four hours have affected me more than I thought they did.”

  “Ah, I understand. Exhaustion can affect the mind in many ways. This is a reasonable explanation, so I’ll overlook the issue this time.” Aldritch replied and looked away from her to the three men still standing at the ready. “As I said: I am Aldritch of clan Blackshield. A pleasure,” he said without showing any emotion on his face.

  He’d forgotten how draining talking to people could be.

  Derrik approached with a grin on his face and offered his arm in the standard Dwarven greeting – they grasped each other’s forearms and lifted their arms a single time before letting go.

  Dwarves didn’t appreciate public displays of affection, not even casual ones. So, they limited the amount of physical contact to the barest minimum.

  "Naruk, Kharnak'az. Kharad nor at nakrok gurth'marzhak? (Greetings Kinsman. What brings you to this dreary ass place?)” Derrik asked in Kharrak - The most widely spoken dwarven tongue.

  Aldritch reacted to the new language by stiffening his facial muscles into a smile.

  The language was completely different from the one the woman and the Druu’rothi thralls had been using. Unfortunately, the spell Aldritch was using to communicate only worked on a single language at a time.

  However, not all was lost in translation. The Hillkin’s body language was relaxed, friendly. His tone was one of relief and… amusement, for some reason.

  Aldritch replayed the Hillkin’s words in his mind. “Naruk, Kharnak’az.” Felt familiar on his tongue, but not to his ear. Could he be speaking an offshoot dialect of Torvornak?

  “I don’t believe he is. But “Naruk” was part of a greeting from the southern kingdom. Based on what you’ve heard, it sounds like he could be speaking a dialect from that area.”

  “Thalvornas? The one with the elven queen and dwarven king?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Would you translate it for me?”

  “Tis a simple request for me.” Oakairo replied and sent Aldritch a feeling of agreement. “I believe he said: Greetings Kinsman. What brings you to this… place? I’m not sure if he said depressing or disgusting, the words are too similar.”

  Aldritch nodded in understanding and hoped his Lord was correct. “Vak'mar Khalankorr. Thaag durnar’en maathrakh thaagrok, ka dorun vakthan azgalkar duum thrummak durvak auldrak. (Greeting Hillkin. I was wandering nearby and came to investigate the noise inside the temple.)” He replied in Torvornak.

  Derrik hesitated at the greeting and shot Sulika a quick glance before pressing on in a stilted version of Torvornak. "Durnar? Thaag doruk’eth vakthur tharak dralgan? (Wandering? Didn’t you follow us through doorway?)”

  Aldritch’s eyes lit up at hearing his native tongue. “Norr Vakrith. (Not quite.)

  Derrik gave Aldritch a confused look, but that quickly shifted into one of astonishment. “Dorr’eth… Kharrak thrun ek durvak? (You… Which stronghold do you hail from?)

  “Than Kahldur.”

  Derrik’s face fell and for the first time in centuries, Aldritch felt pity being directed towards him.

  “Sulika, the poor bastard’s a returnee.” Derrik announced with certainty.

  “What – are you sure?” Sulika said, shocked by the revelation.

  “Than Kahldur was a dwarven stronghold about 1,600 miles north-east of where I did my apprenticeship as a lad. I went there once with my master. It was a gorgeous place… And it was destroyed during the first wave.”

  “You mean he -” Sulika couldn’t finish her question. The idea was too horrible to even think about.

  “How long have you been stuck in here?” Derrik asked, voice full of concern and remorse for what he believed was Aldritch’s situation.

  “Well, that makes this situation a lot easier to deal with. If they think you’re from some fallen kingdom, then they might overlook any oddities that may slip out.”

  “I am from a fallen kingdom, my lord.”

  “Than Kahldur – your Than Kahldur has not fallen. You were the sole heir to the last true king of the Dwarven nation. You are the heart of Than Kahldur, and it will continue to live on so long as you do. The place they’re speaking of is not your home… But you don’t have to tell them that.”

  Aldritch turned his attention back to the conversation taking place outside his head. I’ve been here almost as long as I can remember. He said, finally.

  “Okay… Then you need to come with us. We’ll get you out of here, find you something to wear that doesn’t smell like the rancid ass of a — I mean, we’ll get you some fresh clothes and a hot meal. How’s that sound?” Sulika asked.

  Aldritch almost laughed at her slip up but pushed the urge back down. “What do you think?”

  “The choice is yours. I’ll go along with whatever you decide.”

  “Not like you have a choice.” Aldritch quipped.

  “Stop speaking to me and answer the lady. You clearly already know your answer.”

  “Sounds like a grand idea. I’ll follow you then.” Aldritch smiled down at the odd woman with the charming green eyes and made an ‘after you’ gesture with his empty hand – The ground beneath their feet rumbled and the entire temple shook.

  Sulika realized then what she’d been missing. She’d been so caught up in figuring out who/what the giant was – she’d forgotten about the damned cultists!

  “Has anyone seen the cultists?” She asked, while fighting to maintain her balance against the sliding floor beneath her feet. The temple was making so much noise she had to shout just to be heard.

  “No!” Derrik shouted.

  “Not since he showed up and put us on our asses!” Zarud yelled while pointing at Aldritch.

  “Uh… I think I know why we didn’t notice him leaving.” Ralocan called from a dozen feet away. He held in his left hand the empty robe the cultist had been wearing and in his right was one of the horned-man’s horns. “They probably realized it’d be easier to escape if they weren’t so obvious and ditched them.”

  “How would you “ditch” a horn? Aren’t they usually attached?” Derrik muttered.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt the mystery, but can we talk about this outside?” Aldritch said without a trace of fear or panic to be found in his voice. In fact, he hadn’t even yelled, yet they’d all heard him just fine.

  “I dunno if you noticed or not, but the entrance is still blocked. How in the nine hells do you expect us to get out?” Zarud pointed out.

  “You can just go out the same way I came in.” Aldritch replied while motioning to a big hole in the easternmost wall of the temple. The sight of nothing but purple sky and miasma brought a bevy of questions to Sulika’s mind, but those would have to wait.

  She pushed Derrik ahead of her and grabbed Aldritch by the wrist and tugged him along – or tried to. What actually happened was the moment she tried to pull him, it felt like she’d tried to pull a tree out of the ground with her bare hands.

  Aldritch gently freed himself from her grip and motioned for her to go on. “I’ll follow you.” He assured her.

  Sulika watched him for a second more before yelling for her guys to get a move on and following closely behind them. They arrived at the hole in the wall a few seconds later and looked down; the hole led to a sheer drop into the miasma filled abyss below. But just six feet to the left of the hole, they could see the edge of the cliff the temple was sitting on.

  They also saw the source of the sound. It was coming from the mountain itself, as the precipice was crumbling beneath them. Pretty soon, the entire temple would take a dive straight off the damn mountain and there wasn’t much they could do to stop it without Oladi’s nature magic.

  “Careful everyone. If you fall, you’ll have a hell of a long time to wave goodbye.” Zarud said with more than a little fear in his voice.

  “You aren’t funny!” Derrik yelled. “You know I’m not good with heights!”

  “If you do fall, try to faint. Maybe then you’ll wake up surrounded by your family.” Ralocan said and lightly elbowed Derrik in the shoulder.

  Aldritch watched the three of them banter for a few seconds before his patience wore thin. He grabbed the complaining dwarf by the back of his belt and hurled him out the opening to safely land on solid ground.

  He looked at the three remaining members of the team and they stared back at him. “Are you going on your own or do you need help too?” He asked while taking a step forward.

  “Try it and I’ll –” Zarud’s mouth was forcibly shut as Aldritch placed a single hand on his shirt and lifted him off the ground without an ounce of effort. A second later, the hulking half-orc joined Derrik on solid ground, though he landed much less gracefully than the Derrik had.

  After throwing Zarud, Aldritch was now out of patience and, by the sound of the temple, so was the mountain. He wrapped an arm around Sulika, tossed Ralocan over his shoulder, and leapt to safety.

  He released them both the moment he landed and took a step away to give them space to collect themselves. He heard rather than saw the mountain finally give way – the precipice gave in to gravity’s demands and finally went on that trip it was always pushing to go on.

  Unfortunately for Sulika and the others, the mountain took the temple and all its precious gold with it on its one-way trip to the ground.

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