Fantastical Fantasy Adventures?

We were lost.

I couldn’t even recall the name of this cursed temple, but somewhere along its sprawling passageways and cavernous chambers we lost all sense of direction. Illumination was at a minimum, as our torches were nearly spent. With what fire remained we lit ablaze some larger lamps, fixing them to the walls as we went.

For hours we wondered aimlessly, and we were all becoming sleep deprived. And somewhere between random tomb thirty six and random tomb thirty seven, we were taken by surprise as large iron gates came crashing down around us. Perhaps one of my ill-witted companions had activated some concealed trap, but that didn’t matter now.
“Can you hear it?” Suruk whispered, placing his gruff-looking hand to his ear. “Movement around us… we have awoken something from within.”

“I hear it,” I said, motioning for everyone in the party to remain silent.
A scampering sound - and it was growing. Little taps against the dusty floor at first, but after a moment it became clear that we’d alarmed some kind of guard formation. Previous to setting out on this expedition there had been no advance warning of hostile activity in this area, so I began to wonder if by some chance our approaching visitors weren’t enemies, but my doubts were soon abolished upon hearing the one sound I hated most. It started out as a shrill squeal before advancing into a full blown screech of noise.

After several tense moments it appeared that the others had taken notice, as demonstrated by their noticeable dismay. “Ratlings…” I said contemptuously, “They are here.” My men collectively grimaced in anguish, clearly dreading my observation.
The abhorrent little things had every exit blocked off, and it wouldn’t take long before they broke their way into the vast chamber, seeking carnage and bloodshed.

I glanced over at my fellow companions, and we readied ourselves for the upcoming confrontation. Some men gave short prayers, while others unsheathed their prized weapons, gazing confidently at them in the dull firelight.

The iron-barred gate which stood before us suddenly made a huge booming noise. We waited with bated breath, clutching our weapons tightly. One boom after another came crashing against the iron, yet we did not waver.

I calmed my tenuous mind by concentrating on my steel short-sword. It gleamed hypnotically in the faint, torch lit chamber, causing me to glare absent-mindedly at its ethereal brilliance. Aye, this was a weapon of magical properties, reputed to have been ensorcelled by the most practiced of enchanters who apparently resided to the east of Merith. The barterer I’d obtained it from said that it had been a treacherous journey, and many wild, aggressive things crossed his path along the way, but the mission had all been quite worth it in the end, since this was now the only weapon in existence with such power. After awhile I’d seen many others similar, so I regarded his story as hog shit. But nonetheless, the weapon was quite effective at slaying with or without some mystical enchantment.

In the cold darkness, we continued to wait, our weapons at ready and our hearts pounding. A dead silence then descended, cutting through my worrisome mind leaving anxious tension in its wake. I snapped back to reality and focused on the sights ahead, between the old gate and out position. Clouds of rising dust swirled about in the dank air, shifting back and forth as each man struggled to contain his heavy breathing. There were eight of us in number, all combat ready and fully willing to die on this day, as we’d been many times before. Most of the seasoned veterans sported unkempt manes of light-coloured hair, sturdily constructed layers of thick leather armour, and many gruesome facial and bodily combat scars. The scars acted as badges of pain and struggle, which were indispensable when it came to bragging rights, clearly the most important aspect of their battle-hardened lives.

The silence was then broken by a torrent of thickly padded rat feet scampering across sanded stone...

A final, gargantuan force seemed to splinter the iron door to metal fragments at that very moment. Men braced themselves as bits of the sturdy door came flying at them in all directions, and some leapt for cover.

“To your feet, grunts! At arms!” I bellowed. Through a cloud of dense smoke the little ratlings came, their mad red eyes glowing menacingly, and their horrendous screech was nearly deafening.

A small group broke off from the main charge and headed straight for me. I swiftly raised my sword to the cavern roof and brought it down upon them, causing their immediate death. One had been completely decapitated, and it’s heavily whiskered head now scuttled along the dusty ground. Another enemy leapt at my right side. He’d been quite stupid to try that, and before he could latch onto my side and drive his curved dagger into my throat I caught hold of his torso with my sword edge, impaling the poor miscreant right then and there. To ensure that the would-be assassin was good and dead, I squashed it’s still-flailing body with my steel plated boot, causing its bone structure to crunch and snap, and then random viscera to gushed out of it’s exposed neck cavity – quite a gruesome sight, even for one so battle-hardened as myself. I turned away in disgust.

No sooner had I done this, several more groups of ratling enemies flooded into the room, screaming wildly and raising their weapons skyward. They carried crude, feeble weapons of chipped stoned and rotting wood – what an insult. I’d expected at least substandard copper weapons, but this garbage proved to be unworthy of contest. The scenes outlining my peripheral vision became fast-forward blurs, as I focused entirely on the melee before me. I could hear faint noises surrounding me as my men hacked and slashed on either side of the enclosed space, though it was quite clear that none of them were in danger.

At this time, my sword was practically encrusted with dried blood, and still the leprous mongrels came – first in two’s and three’s, but now they came in waves. With but one well timed swing I could slay no less than four of them, causing their torsos to split clear open in a shower of gore, their shaking bodies plopping to the ground in uneven, bloody heaps.
The swirling melee transported my mind to a new plane of understanding, a new frame of mind ordinarily unobtainable by regular, everyday actions, and I reveled in it, it was who I was, an instinctual desire by which I was intrinsically linked. It was as if every action I made, every swing and parry, were part of some predetermined strategy, some choreographed dance of death. This is what I was best at, no doubt, and it surely was an improvement over chopping wood or carving stone all day.

“Rally to centre for maximum affect!” I yelled, without really hearing my own words. “They come in waves far greater than before, we mustn’t lose ground to these rats!” It was clear that my message had gotten across, and now we banded together in a kind of impenetrable wall of slaughter, moving slowly towards the enemy masses. At this point we were now caked in blood from head to toe, eyes wild with battle-lust, and weapons
gleaming red from untold amounts of death. I glanced to my immediate right as Grunnan, a tower of a man who was no less than six and a half feet in height, spun round’ a wild looking, double bladed battle axe which was covered in ornate inscriptions and runes of power. He fought with seemingly little effort, though it was quite clear to me that such a weapon would usually require the strength of two men to wield.
The firelight flickered ever stronger.

We moved forward, and my men said not a word. They understood that all energy must be conserved from this point on, only to be expended on slaying the foe, which now surged at us from all directions. We formed with all our backs facing towards the centre, and slowly progressed onto a narrow stone pathway which lead into the shadowy darkness ahead. There were no railings on this stone path, and one look over the edge produced a sight which extended into darkened oblivion.

Much to our concern, it was here that the enemy began creeping up the wall faces of the pathway. They scurried up the vertical walls with weapons slung around their backs and braced in their mouths, and all we could see of them was their evil glowing eyes. Also, I had no idea where the hell we were going, but I figured that it was probably a bad idea to stop now.

“Where next, sir?” one of my exhausted comrades asked, his grim visage relaying a sense of hopelessness.

“I know not,” I replied, “but we’ll be out of this doom-infested labyrinth soon enough, I can guarantee that!” I laughed then, flashing him a wicked smile while shearing a ratling in two. Perhaps I was crazy.

We kept on heading along the narrow stone path, which was lit by some bizarre green fire fixed onto the infinitely tall walls on either side, casting everything under a strange glow. Perhaps we were slowly traversing the innards of some damned pyramid or ancient temple, and had mistakenly awoken whatever possessed beings resided within. We were never known for our subtleties. However, looting and pillaging sources of ancient treasure rarely necessitated covert operations.

And that’s when I heard it. At first it came as a shrill voice, barely a whisper, probably emanating from some unseen depths in the darkness below. I was the only one who heard it, as far as I could tell, and it slowly began to capture my attention.
“What is it?” Grunnan said, noticing my expression of concern.

“I hear something, a faint whisper, can you not hear it? Sounds to be coming from the darkness below, I swear there is someone down there.”

“I hear nothing,” he replied while clubbing to death several ratlings with the blunt end of his bloodied axe. “Perhaps enemy magic, sire, they’re tricky ones, I tell ye. Play tricks with the mind and such, makes you see things.” Grunnan was not the most fanciful when it came to words, but he did have a point, still, I filed the voice in the back of my mind, and continued fighting.

The little bastards had now amassed near a tomb facing directly in front of us. By some measure of impossibility they had managed to muster the ingenuity to construct makeshift barricades containing deadly cross-bow turrets. They weren’t much for aim, but it was enough to make me and my men withdraw our sturdy wooden shields to protect us from the approaching salvos of missile fire. We crouched low and moved ahead cautiously while remaining fearful of a stray arrow hitting an exposed region of unprotected flesh, though we were quite well guarded after taking up the appropriate formation. “What are we to do now?” asked Ragvalt, the smaller and most agile fighter in the group.

I contemplated for a moment, slightly lifting the brim of my shield in order to observe the enemy fortifications. “We must spearhead right through., it’s the only way,” I instructed. “Their aim is poor, and our shields will deflect most of the blows, but be alert at all times.”
As I spoke, several spike-tipped arrows came sailing down to punch straight through a few of the men’s shields, though they barely flinched, knowing full well that they were safe for now.

“On the count of three,” I said. The men nodded in reply and we all prepared to make the assault. At the final count we rose and charged furiously into bloody combat once again, shields raised definitely at the oncoming stream of arrow fire. There was little to worry about now, unless the enemy had somehow been concealing trained marksmen. This was child’s play, if not a complete waste of time.
“Strike them down!” I bellowed. “Leave none standing, and watch your backs!”

The green glow had intensified since we’d crossed the center of the room containing the narrow stone path, and we could now see a sickly neon glint in the eyes of the ratling scum. They screeched and squirmed at the fury of our relentless onslaught, though their futile efforts did little to evoke any sentiment of sympathy. Had they not been but utter cowards and spineless bastards then perhaps I’d of felt some kind of pity or consciousness, as we were cutting them down so mercilessly, but it occurred to me that I was merely protecting my skin by exacting such ruthlessness.

And then again I heard it, like a soft calling amidst the chaos of battle. The voice seemed to serene in my battle-frenzied mind, so calming to my exhausted, beaten body that I felt compelled to cease all action in order to focus on it. What was it saying, and why could only I hear it… perhaps I was going mad, and this was merely an onset of insanity. Whatever it was, I could not ignore it, but I also could not cease from fighting, and in no less than a moment later I was swinging my sword around in a whirlwind of death, carving all opposition into sputtering stumps.

“Regroup! They’re falling back into the doorway, we must run them through!” I had lost a bit of my focus in my contemplations, and had let several of the mongrels escape my grasp. They were scampering around in rabid little packs, trying desperately to keep themselves alive. They did not stop us from charging over and hacking them limb from limb, and it was quite clear that they were all but slain by the end of it all.

And as the last of them was hacked down, the voice returned with thrice the previous strength, and it all but permeated by consciousness, causing me to clasp my head in pain. “By what foul force of ratling magic have you been inflicted?” asked Ragvalt, whose reflexes had become so quick and precise from the previous battle that he now moved with at an alarming pace.

“I do not know,” I replied feebly, still clutching my skull as if it were an egg about to crack. “Go on without me, I shall seek the source of this confusion. The enemy is weak enough for me to deal with, should I encounter them, and I trust that you can lead these men from the depths of this hell. I’ll remain close behind, but there is something about this voice that I must investigate.”
“But we cannot go-“
“Now,” I stated bluntly. The men did not protest.

The party clambered away while giving me concerned glances as I continued to wince my eyes in pain. It was as if my senses were being assailed by pure, white noise, yet I could not identify its source. It merely traced across my inner vision in the form of metamorphosing images and strange colours that I’ve never even seen before. Whatever this act of strangeness was which affected me so greatly, I had to do something about it, I had to identify its source and find out why such a message was affecting me in this way.

The men had all left now, and I was alone in the cold, damp cave entrance, surrounded by dead ratling bodies which gleamed hauntingly under dim green torchlight, provided by the wall-mounted torches near the top of the vaulted ceiling above me. The rest of the room was clouded in shadow, and the only visible structure in sight, aside from a small illuminated radius surrounding each torch, was the narrow stone path from which we came, but I began to scan the walls for signs of a ladder or entrance way.

By now the voice had lessened somewhat, but I could still identify it on the fringes of my imagination, and it seemed to blissful, so radiant, almost as if I could never reach it under any circumstance. I wanted to live in it, spend an eternity there, but I had no understanding of what ‘there’ could even be. A part of me wanted to turn around, wanted to go the other way and join the others in our escape so we could be done with this place and continue on as normal, but it was as if some part of me would not allow that to happen, and I needed to do this in order to reclaim my sanity. Well, I moved over to the far edge of the right side of the narrow pathway, and it was there that I discovered a small tunnel which led downward at a fairly sharp slant. A risky climb indeed, but some invisible force guided me onward.

I entered the confined space and was immediately bombarded with the stench of ancient rot, causing me nearly to gag and leave entirely. But I couldn’t leave now, and the more I doubted myself the less control of my body I seemed to have. While placing one foot in front of the other, with one hand shifting downward at a time, I slowly descended the stone column, completely enshrouded by darkness. A strange feeling rose just then, a feeling of concern, or perhaps anxiety, which rose in my gut. Was this fear? I had no clue, as such an emotion had been foreign to me for so long that I began to forget what it felt like altogether. A career of killing and running from the law often granted men a curious power to suppress fear altogether, though to do so entirely would turn someone inhuman. Fear was a good thing, in the right circumstance.

“You think he’s going to be ok?” Ragvalt asked the group.
“I don’t see why not,” Jerral replied, wiping his blade free of crusted blood. “This isn’t the first time this has happened, if you can remember. I remember many a time were he’s complained of head voices. Quite a daft observation if you ask me.”

“Right,” said Grunnan, “and I tried to tell him; the cure to ailments of the mind is always ale, and in copious amounts!” The group shared a hearty laugh.

“Say…” said Jerral in a sly tone, “if he doesn’t return, you know we can always… how should I put this, ‘borrow’ his share of the profits?” Grunnan immediately stopped laughing and gripped Grunnan by the collar of his black velour undershirt, a furious look in his eye.
“It’d be best to pretend you never spoke of such heresy, because I might be inclined to crush the life out of you right now!” he bellowed, catching everyone off guard, especially Jerral. The others paused in a moment of concern, though they mostly felt the same way. Jerral said nothing more.

The group progressed through the narrow passageway in crouched positions, and the light grew brighter with each turn. They could now detect the fresh scent of night air, indicating that an exit was close by. They debated amongst themselves as to where they should wait for their leader, and it was decided that they would remain stationary at the exit opening, regardless of whatever enemy they may encounter. It wasn’t like the ratlings could do much damage anyway.

I closed my eyes, feeling the sound essence wash over me like a strange curtain of confusion. The tormented voice, which sounded feminine in nature, had become much more dull now, but it was clearer, almost to the point that I could discern what it was saying. Perhaps I was getting close, but it was becoming more and more difficult to see anything at all.

And so, I wondered, and climbed downward still, driven by some unknown force of curiosity and responsibility, despite the warnings developing in my logical mind. “Who is there?” I called loudly and suddenly. “Allow me to converse with you, and I shall do my best to find your location.” My words were firm and they resounded throughout the darkened, cavernous space. There was no reply, only the continual, muted wailing between my ears. It was starting to irritate me now, but I couldn’t give up.
I ripped a torch off the wall next to me, this one spouting a plume of blue flame, casting a eerie shade over my immediate surroundings. The ladder on which I climbed downward became quite rickety and wobbly, but it had no problem supporting my weight, though it did creak quite loudly.
After several more steps downward, I reached the sandy floor. The torchlight did not penetrate far enough to illuminate more than several meters around me, but I continued onward through the surrounding unknown.

Each step I took, each breath I heaved, brought me closer to the sound, and it became clearer and clearer, until I could fully understand the words it spoke.

'I’m here… do not forget me… Help me… Please, save me from this torment… I’m here…'

“Where? Where are you? What the hell?” I asked aloud, trying to somehow pierce the darkness by furrowing my brow. Nothing, I could only see nothing. The voice became clear and soft now that it nearly dropped from my mind altogether, but I wanted to keep hearing it, I wanted to help whomever it belonged to. It kept repeating the same message, leading me to believe that it was some form of telekinetic beacon, emitted by an imprisoned spellcaster or extraordinarily devious enemy. Either way, I was going to find its source, and though although my surroundings were enshrouded by darkness, I would not cease until reaching the source of this voice.

“It appears that they were waiting for us,” said Jerrel, as he looked on towards the hungering Wraith spiders. The foul beasts had been lying in wait, that was for sure, and now they amassed into a large, slavering group who sought only death. Jerrel seemed to squirm around in fright, completely abhorred by the numerous monstrosities, but the rest of the six party members remained obstinate as they unsheathed their weapons.
“They’re but simple Wraiths, Jerrel,” said Grunnan, who’d taken command of the group, “so compose yourself and fight!”

The group formed up as they became literally encircled by the growing amount of wraiths, who looked as though they’d been driven into a blood frenzy. Under the pale luminescence of the moon and a myriad stars, they appeared as sinister arachnids with sharp, venom filled fangs, ready to strike at any given moment. Enemies such as these were not encountered often, as they were quite rare, but most in the band had encountered such unnatural slime. “Make sure to squash them with your boots as well!” exclaimed Ragvalt enthusiastically.

The beasts charged in unison, scampering across the loose desert sand like fish through water, speeding ever closer to the grouped men. Grunnan was the first to strike at a duo of Wraiths, his double-bladed axe hewing both in two without so much as a grunt followed by a clean slicing sound. Their shaking bodies swirled about, kicking up small clouds of sand as they shriveled up and died. The sand clouds were dangerous, as they obscured the rest of the attackers from view, leaving the other men to slowly consolidate back near the tomb entrance. “Be careful for the venom, it’s corrosive!” informed Gannick, the group’s apothecary and medicinal specialist. Though still strong in frame, Gannick was nearing an elderly age, as indicated by his wild white beard which swayed violently as he struck down a wraith with his rapier, skewering its body straight through.
That’s when the poison started flying. You could hear it as the little bastards charged up a load of corrosive venom and spat it out in small streams towards the men. It was a fluorescent purple colour – easy to avoid, yet the volley increased in volume as time progressed. “We can’t keep this up,” said Grunnan, examining several burn holes through his wooden shield, “so we must assault them. Charge forth!”
And so the men went, running wildly into the onslaught of purple poison. Jerral was unfortunately struck across the face with the corrosive goo, and he began to scream wildly at that moment. Gannick ran over to him immediately, forgoing the confrontation with his own group of enemies. “Calm yourself, it’ll only make it worse!” he yelled, but Jerral had worked himself into too much of a frenzy. “Damnit… he’s experiencing wraith fever! No!”

“Well, I’m afraid there’s only one solution,” said Gunnan, while holding off no less than three Wraiths on his own. Their salvo of poisonous death had ceased for the time being, as the Wraiths had been taken by surprise by the assault, so Grunnan, realizing the harrowing and irreversible effects of Wraith fever, had no choice but to immediately decapitate poor Jerral. “He will be remembered as a brave man,” he said before returning to the bitter melee a moment later. Most of the other men seemed not to pay the action much significance, as Jerral had not been well-liked anyway.

The party fought on in the faintly lit darkness, using the light of the moon and orientation of stars as their guide. Many wondered about their leader, and whether or not he was still alive…

And I watched, transfixed by the sight before me. A maiden, possibly of young age, stood before me in a tomb encased by gold fixtures and glass walls. Her features were delicate and expressionless, and she was wrapped in a flowing white covering, possibly made of silk. She appeared to be suspended to the wall of the cavern by some unseen magical force, and it was my immediate instinct to walk over and touch the case, though I knew better. As soon as I’d witnessed the sight the voices in my head had ceased altogether, and it became clear to me that this was their source.

“Oh, poor, imprisoned maiden, how am I to free you?” I asked aloud. There was no response, and she seemed incapable of hearing my words. There seemed to be a strange, directionless white light emanating from the base of her enclosure, like a beautiful ivory pillar shining through the dust-covered floor.

I glanced around me for signs of movement or life, but saw only darkness. Without warning, but blue light from my torch immediately extinguished, leaving the glass enclosure as the only source of light, and it didn’t provide much. I became worried now, and I did not know if I’d be able to make it back the way I came. What of my men? I worried about them as well, and knew that they would not remain forever. Still, this women, she seemed to capture my imagination entirely now, and I focused on her beauty. She needed rescuing, that much was for certain, though it was unclear to me as to how I’d attempt such a feat.

I looked at my hands, pondering desperately to myself. I needed a solution, and I needed to somehow break through the glass and rescue this woman. What was I to do? I could attempt to smash the glass with my sword, but I didn’t want to risk injuring her from flying glass chunks. I had to be very careful, that was the only way.
I then approached the strange chamber, all the while glancing helplessly at the woman inside. Her hair was the colour of straw, her skin seemed only a tone darker than the white silken covering surrounding her.

I unsheathed my sword, and pointed the heavy hilt towards a flat surface between three bejeweled spheres that were outlined by glimmering clasps of gold and silver. It was quite an ornate design, and I nearly felt bad for damaging such a display, but it was necessary to ensure that this woman was rescued.
As I cocked back my sword arm to prepare to break the covering open, I froze. It was as if I’d been struck by lightning, and my heart seemed to stop beating. At that moment, a torturous pain shot through my mind, cutting through my nervous system as if every fiber of my being had been stabbed with burning irons. I couldn’t move, and I could not scream. But I could hear, however faintly. I listened intently as the sound of sand shifting upon sand swished and swept behind me. Though some kind of extrasensory sensation, I could suddenly detect an exceedingly malign presence, something I had never felt before. It was as if the sum of evil itself had manifested in this very room, and it was lurking in the unseen depths, inflicting me with this horrid pain, as a child might torture a small animal for fun.

And then an echo of a voice began. “Insolent fool!” it hissed menacingly, “Thought you could scamper down into my dwelling and capture my eternal bride? Quite a fool indeed!”

My immediate reaction was to leap out of the light in order to gain a better position on this surprise enemy, but I stood motionless, paralyzed by some unseen force. Clearly whatever was doing this was a caster by nature, and although i couldn't see his body or face, I could see his shining, razor-sharp talons from the reflection in the glass.

“That’s right!” it continued in a harsh, crackling voice, “It must be difficult to move now, it must be difficult to think, with all this FEAR!!!” His voice had now increased to a booming level, amplified by magic, and his sharply taloned hands twisted maliciously as he spoke.
I could not move, I could not think. The fear surrounded me, encircled me, submerged any sense of logical thought. I could do nothing, I could see nothing, I could not save this woman and I could not save myself. It was as if a small glimmer of hope which existed in the center of my mind was being overthrown by this shadowy force, being drowned in a dark sea of despair, slowly fading into oblivion…

I struggled for words. “Who… are you? Why?” I stammered.
“I own this place you so casually broke into! You and your stupid friends thought you could make off with my goods? Bah! I am that which works from the background, slowly manipulating the subtle forces which interact with your realm, and I am so good at what I do,” he said in a sly voice, grinning wickedly. “Do not try and struggle, it will all be over soon, so soon. I’ve taken my time with you, years, decades, centuries, who really knows anymore? It matters not, nothing matters anymore. I’ll make an example out of you… An example for all the would-be thieves who’d even dare disturb my slumber and defile my possessions! Not to mention all my dead ratling guards, though they were kind of worthless anyway… Never mind that, prepare to meet your doom!”

My sword arm fell lifeless and limp, and my knees crashed into the sand below. I felt so utterly helpless, so completely lethargic. I needed sleep, I needed time to think, time to recuperate, time to get stronger, time to put that all off and do it another day. My mind became all detached and disorganized, images and feelings all scrambled in some vortex of confusion. Where was I? Why was I even here? Was I the problem, and were we the problem? It now felt as if everything I’d ever thought of or done was false, and that somehow my life had been about completing some mission, some extremely important, special mission which I had completely and utterly failed. This world was no place for me, there were no tasks needing my use, there were no lands to explore, no inventions to create, no people to meet, only me and the consuming blackness, the malignant void which continued to permeate my entire mind, threatening to drive me into the very depths of insanity.

“Ahhhhh!” I screamed, trying desperately to rid my mind of this garbage.
“Feel it! Live in it, mortal! Suffer! Grovel at my feet and I shall consider offering you a swift death…”
As if I hadn’t heard that one before.

And that’s when I saw it…

Without warning, the glass shattered completely, sending flying chunks everywhere. The bits careened past my face, nearly cutting the skin. The maiden!
“Back, foul wretch!” she commanded.

“Ahhh, what the fuck?” the monstrosity screamed. “How can this be? Your bonds had been sealed with my strongest magics!”
“Idiot. You forgot one thing…” she said confidently, and apparently she could fly. I had regained some semblance of movement at this point, and the first thing I did was crawl into a corner to recover.

I watched in awe. The golden maiden, who seemed to radiate with a beaming golden aura, slowly hovered towards whatever shadowy master had contained her. Her hair and clothing seemed to flow freely, as if in some violent wind, yet the air in this damp cavern was stale and calm. Magic users… nobody understood them.
“What are you talking about?” he shrieked. She smiled, and pointed directly at me, or rather my backpack, which was laying in a heap at my feet. And then I finally noticed, it was glowing as well…

“The Doom Stone! Shit!” he said suddenly.
“Yes indeed, the Doom Stone. And you just couldn’t get rid of it, could you?” she replied sharply. Apparently I’d stumbled across an item of particular importance. And then it occurred to me, this was more than just an important item, it was a relic… a legendary one. I’d heard about such stones, and how evil spell casters usually kept one or two nearby for the purpose of undoing their dark spells, kind of like a big eraser, though I could never understand why.

“Why bother keeping around a trinket whose main purpose is to dispel your evil machinations?” I said stupidly, somehow forgetting that just moments ago I lacked the ability to speak at all. I stared at the shining gloves of the bad guy as I said this, trying to discern some humanoid form. When the bright woman came close to him, or it, as I should say, it became clear to me that there was no form at all, it was simply the sharply taloned hands, and that’s it. “You’re a pair of hands?” I asked, foregoing the first question.

“Quiet!” the digits beckoned. “I’m more powerful than you can imagine! I’m ancient, and unimaginably omnipotent! Just you-
“Show him the Doom Stone!” interrupted glowy woman.
“Right,” I said, opening the bag. The gleaming object, which was shaped like a spiked cross, left my grasp as soon as I brought it into the open. A moment later, it seemed to explode with brightness, causing me to shield my eyes and fall to the ground. There was sound too, an ear-splitting sound, and a strange wind seemed to come out of nowhere as well.

“Ahhhhhh!” the taloned hands screamed in a blood curdling fashion. The glowing Doom Stone then collected all nearby light energy, focusing it into one extremely powerful sphere of hot white. The evil hands were held in place by some restraining spell, courtesy of the floating maiden, allowing the Doom Stone enough time to power up.
“I need you to yell Doom Stone!” she bellowed over the windy noise and shrill death screams of talon hands.

“What?” I cried.
“YELL DOOM STONE!”
“DOOM SON!” I blurted stupidly.
“NO, DOOM STONE!”
“DOOOOOOOOOM STOOOOOOOOOONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I bellowed at the top of my voice. That did it…

A kaleidoscope of intense colour burst out of the stone, sending shockwaves through the large room. A solid brick wall broke my fall, the maiden went flying off into the ceiling, and shadow doom-talons seemed to completely disintegrate. My ears rang for a good twenty minutes after while I lie there, barely holding on to consciousness. This strange fight had been unlike any other I’d ever experienced, and was still trying to make sense of it all. I couldn’t see the maiden now, though my vision was still somewhat blurry. I struggled to return to my feet, and somehow my strength returned fully. The bastard had been draining my energy the whole time, which made it nearly impossible to do anything helpful, aside from opening my backpack and unleashing the awesome power of the Doom Stone. I considered how much I could sell it for. Was probably priceless!

“I won’t let you sell it…” the maiden said softly. She was floating down from the darkness above, bringing with her that radiant golden glow.
“Huh..?” I replied in an alarmed voice.
“It’s not one of my most noble abilities, but I can read minds,” she stated. I stood dumbfounded by her presence, completely unable to think of something to say. “I suppose I must thank you for freeing me. Nobody has ever tried… I am so grateful you came!”
“Well your voice,” I said, losing my train of thought.
“… I’m glad you heard it,” she said, smiling.
“I had to help, it’s my nature, I just knew something was wrong. I’m glad you’re alright. What was that hand thingy?”
“You don’t want to know…” she said, glancing sadly at the sandy floor. “The spirit of a very evil person, I suppose. It’s gone now though, you vanquished it. And for that I am eternally grateful.” She flew close to me then, and embraced me suddenly. My eyes grew wide with emotion, yet as I began to react to this unexpected excitement she kissed me gently on the cheek and broke away, slowly ascending the darkened heights.
“Wha… where are you going?”
“I’m sorry… I must leave. I will see you again, but I can’t now. You must understand… I need to do this with no time to waste…” She spoke with words of truth and innocence, so I begrudgingly nodded and waved goodbye. So much for happy endings, but at least the lady had left me with a hovering ember, which provided me with enough illumination to clearly see the rest of the way, and perhaps it was a memento of her upcoming return. I wondered about her and worried as I scampered up the old ladder and squeezed through rough-hewn hatchway, but some part of me knew she’d be safe. She’d probably melt more faces than I ever could, since steel swords were no match for skilled, mana-efficient Icebolts. At least I needn’t worry about the evil spirit returning.

Besides, I had a group of warriors outside who were probably bored stupid from killing spiders and ratmen all night while I meandered with golden flying women and a pair of evil hands, so I got the hell out of that damp corridor with no time to spare.
The only challenge now was to not get lost… Shit.