Lylen took the lead in guiding the three of them through the rest of the ruin. Up sloped walkways, and staircases, Gunnolf and Atzler followed.

  “Do you have any scraps of food on you?” Atzler asked the kobold.

  Gunnolf was silent in response and merely followed Lylen.

  “What a nice guy,” Atzler said under his breath.

  They followed Lylen down a corridor that winded right and it opened into a massive room. It was rectangular in shape and had a ceiling well over thirty paces overhead. The columns were of the same cerulean color but the floor tiles here were white and cut into perfect diamond shapes while daises that were knee high to Gunnolf ran along both walls but were empty. The far end of the room was a familiar sight. The large double doors that Gunnolf and Lylen originally saw when they first approached this old structure.

  She guided them toward the doors and made a left into an easily overlooked corridor, it was only two and half paces wide and the ceiling was abruptly low, only seven feet. At the other end some thirty steps ahead, they could see it would open into another round room.

  “The exit I used is just ahead now,” Lylen said over her shoulder.

  Reaching the round room, it was twenty paces in diameter and had a large, muck sitting in the center of it. It was dark, black mostly and hints of blue and deep violet swirled in it as it was as tall as either elf.

  “What is that?” Atzler asked incredulously.

  Lylen gaped at it, “I-I don’t know. That wasn’t here when I came─” her sentence was cut off as the blob jiggled and immediately a slimy tendril shot directly at the three of them.

  Narrowly dodging the attack as it cracked the stone edge of the entryway into the room, Lylen readied her daggers and Atzler had his axe out while Gunnolf readied his stance, hand on the tanto’s hilt.

  Another life to end if you draw the sword…

  “This is an ooze monster of some kind,” Gunnolf said calmly but stern. “Our weapons won’t affect it much unless we can strike its core.”

  Atzler to the left of his companions made his dash toward it, trying to pick out where the core may be, another slimy appendage shot from it and slapped him back toward the wall.

  Lylen had her daggers in hand as another appendage shot at her and she laid flat on the floor, barely dodging her as it headed for Gunnolf behind her, his tanto was drawn and slashed through it in a blink. The slimy appendage was halfway detached as it was knocked to the side. Swiftly repairing itself as it withdrew back into the main body.

  Atzler got to his feet, his axe was on the tiled floor five paces from him, another slimy appendage struck; his body was flung into the wall behind him.

  Gunnolf had another appendage strike at him, nimbly evading it he dashed forth and there at the center of this gigantic slime ball he could see a round sphere, looking like a tan stone of sorts bobbing in the muck of the amoeba-like entity. Three tendrils formed and shot at the kobold, that tanto sliced through the first while the other two whipped at him, sending him to his back.

  “Gunnolf!” Lylen cried out as she dashed under another attack. She pulled her thoughts together, “Flames that engulf, fire that rages, come to me and consume thy foe in your scorching embrace! Blaze!” A blast of fire and flame shot up from near the shapeshifting goo’s center. It let out a high shriek as they flames reached just over four feet in height and a diameter of barely two feet, but the tendrils stopped emerging from it as it swayed and shifted back and forth along the floor. Lylen screamed in agony as well. Atzler and Gunnolf were back on their feet, the red-haired elf ran by grabbing his axe while Gunnolf darted along the perimeter of the room as the flames died down. “I can’t maintain my focus!” Lylen cried out, her hands felt like they were going to melt.

  Atzler chucked his hand axe, sending it spinning toward the core of the ooze and Gunnolf flanked it as the final bit of fire dissipated, in a blinding flash, the axe hit while the tanto of Gunnolf slashed up the core’s side, the core was split three ways as the dark slime screeched and began flattening. Calmly and silently, Gunnolf sheathed his tanto once more, knowing he resisted drawing the tachi at his side.

  When the last of the ooze vanished away, Lylen noticed that something was off, “Uh, I think it seeped through this crack in the floor.”

  “It’ll likely die of its injuries,” Atzler said as he recovered his axe. “Slimes and goos can’t live without their cores for the most part. Are your hands alright?”

  Lylen felt them ache and they felt singed, “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You shouldn’t have to hurt yourself like this,” Atzler said with concern.

  “There wasn’t anything for options against that thing. In any case, I’ll be fine,” Lylen ended with a half-smile. “My curse isn’t that bad.”

  Gunnolf gave a nod, “Even if that ooze regenerates, it needs time. Come, let us be away from here.”

  Lylen went over to the wall on the most east side of the round room, “Let’s see here,” she crouched to feel the stone blocks along the wall. “I remember that there is a secret exit here somewhere, you just can’t use it from the outside…” Finally, one pushed in and a click that echoed throughout the room and down the corridor they entered from, and several bricks shifted perpendicularly revealing an exit to the outside once more. As Lylen brought up the rear they shifted back as fast, sealing the pathway once more as if it were never there.

  “So good to be outside once more!” Atzler exclaimed. “Thank you both for saving me.”

  Gunnolf stared at him a moment expressionless, before turning his attention to the north.

  “We can head to Walthruhn next or backtrack to Lilthiken,” Lylen suggested. “It’s far too late to head back to Saha’dryr and get there before nightfall for sure.”

  “I just want to get some food in my belly,” Atzler complained placing his arms over a grumbling stomach.

  Gunnolf brought his hand to his chin as he thought, a few seconds and dropping his arm again he said, “Do as you two like, I shall head to Walthruhn.”

  Lylen procured a small area map from her satchel, “According to this, Walthruhn may only be a couple hours away on foot towards the northeast.”

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  Without another word Gunnolf began walking in that direction, aloof if his two companions tagged along or not.

  “There’s a Sacred Tent nearby, right? We can grab some grub there and then continue, can’t we?” Atzler said almost begging.

  “Gunnolf?” Lylen attempted to get his attention when he kept walking.

  “You can do as you please. I will be on my way to Walthruhn to meet Zarmhel. I still haven’t received my payment for the last job I completed for him,” Gunnolf stated over his shoulder.

  “You can’t wait for us?” Atzler asked.

  Gunnolf stopped completely and his head tilted downward, “I prefer to travel alone. If you wish to come along, I won’t stop you either. But know if you get injured or killed along the way, I am not responsible nor will I allow it to slow me down. That being said, I will continue my trek.”

  You can end them both with your sword and bring the number down to fourteen without breaking a sweat. Gunnolf pushed the thought and the itch on his hand away. “I need a drink,” he muttered too low for the elves to hear.

  “A charming fellow, isn’t he?” Atzler said to Lylen while staring daggers at the kobold’s back.

  “Give me some of your money and tail him, I’ll dart over to the Sacred Tent to get you a little food and catch up in a few. We need to meet up with Zarmhel as well,” Lylen told him. Atzler gave her a few coins, and she darted for the Sacred Tent while Atzler followed after the black furred man who strode onward as if alone.

  After about ten minutes, Lylen caught up to Atzler and gave him some dried meat and hard bread before running up on Gunnolf. Atzler was grateful for the food and her efforts, he graciously accepted the snack.

  The land was rocky, with moss covering jagged stones jutting out of the ground and the Kyros Forest was in view to their left, it would be a matter of a couple of hours at most before they would enter this Walthruhn Village. The sight of the forest with the stout mountain peaks of Magress that rose up beyond the thickly dense trees enclosed this area in a tight knit yet vast landscape with the monstrous mountain chain to the south known as the Cloud Reach Spires that seemed to kiss the heavens above.

  Atzler caught up to his other companions and tried to strike up conversation with Gunnolf a couple of times, poking into his past. Finally, after the third question, Atzler tried to answer his own question first to prod the kobold to collaborate in it. “I’m from Garishmarr, a region on the far west of Ellodysia.”

  Gunnolf came to a stop, his head peering over to the red haired elf, looking down.

  Atzler could only give a wry grin in response expecting the kobold to open up.

  Gunnolf huffed and went back to taking strides once more.

  “It isn’t a good idea to keep pressing him, Atzler,” Lylen warned.

  “I’m trying to be friendly to him,” the young man said indignantly. “He’s such an ass, though.”

  Finding themselves walking up to a wide fence spanning well around a thousand paces in each direction, constructed of logs standing upright and bound by rope thicker than double the width of Atzler’s arms, they were at last before the gate to Walthruhn village. The log fence was well over a dozen paces high and a rectangular gate was before them, no more than ten spans wide, with three guards standing at their post and another watchman on top of the wall. All the guards were human men, wearing leather vests with cotton blue shirts under and tan trousers with soft cloth boots and each was armed with iron tipped spears.

  “Who wishes to enter Walthruhn village?” one guard asked, he had some stubble for a beard and his hair was short and chestnut colored, but his gray eyes were hard, indicating he wasn’t up for chatter.

  Gunnolf stepped forth first, gave a short bow. “Gunnolf Fulin, ronin mercenary looking for work as a bodyguard or escorting merchants and their goods.”

  “And the other two louts with you?” another guard asked.

  “We’re with him,” Lylen encouraged. “Also seeking employment and shelter.”

  “Cause no trouble, else you will be thrown to the in the Pit. We’ve had our share of bad luck lately and need no more.”

  Gunnolf strode passed them when they gave a nod and fully pushed open the heavy gate that swung to the right. Lylen and Atzler followed behind until they were inside. Atzler stared with his jaw agape, each building was a little cottage with oak trees scattered throughout it with a bubbling brook that ran through the whole village. A stable was the nearest structure to them, it was holding a few galcudos and a young human boy, around the age of fifteen or so tending to brush out their shaggy fur. The boy eyed the three that walked by but was quick to keep working when the others noticed him staring.

  Passing by some of the cottages, the smell of fresh bread lingered in the air, and it caught Atzler’s nose swiftly. “We should find an inn! I bet this village has some great food,” he said with a wide grin.

  Lylen spoke up to Gunnolf, “Fair warning, if you aren’t careful, Atzler will eat you out of your wallet in a hurry. His stomach I swear is an abyss!”

  Gunnolf huffed. “Not my problem,” he replied coldly and found a cottage with a sign dangling from a short chain above its round doorway. It read Moon Lady Inn and the sign had an etching of a crescent moon and feminine figure cradling it. The kobold ducked his head to enter as he turned the handle while the two elves followed. Inside the front room was simple, a small fireplace with a chimney of gray stone to their right, recently used likely the night prior, only ten paces to the counter where a thin, blonde haired woman sat wearing a woolen dress with stripes of red. Her sun-dark complexion accented her dress and hair elegantly as her green eyes focused on the three newcomers. The smell of meat and bread wafted in from the doorway behind the counter and to the right of it.

  “Welcome to the Moon Lady Inn, would you three like to reserve a room this afternoon?” her voice was sweet for a human and her eyes lit up, like full teacups. “It’s rare we see kobolds in this area, so I’d be honored to have such an exotic guest!”

  Gunnolf got close to the counter, the fur atop his head kept his eyes a mystery but he placidly asked, “Has an aviar visited your inn recently?”

  The woman blinked, “Aviar? Do you mean one of the bird-folk?”

  Gunnolf nodded.

  The woman shook her head, “I have not had one visit my inn in more than half a year. I apologize that I am no use to you for that. They do have a colony in the Magress Mountains if you wish to visit it.”

  Gunnolf crossed his arms in thought. Why would Zarmhel leave a note asking to meet here if he isn’t here?

  The woman’s eyes widened as she remembered something, “I have a note here for someone…” she fumbled around under her desk a few seconds and looked it over before asking, “Do you know what temperature Crystal Sturgeon are found swimming around this time of year?”

  He gave a curt nod as he replied, “Twenty-seven.”

  She procured a folded paper from under the counter. “I was requested to ask that silly question to make sure it got to the correct person. It’s written in a language I don’t know but I found it on my counter yesterday afternoon with a small bit of money for me in exchange.”

  “Interesting,” said Gunnolf.

  The woman shook her head, “I get odd requests like this fairly often from all sorts. It’s none of my business to intrude further, I simply do what is asked.”

  Gunnolf’s eyes widened behind the fur that obscured them, Perhaps Zarmhel found a way to visit here and went unnoticed. He gently accepted the paper and looked over it, it was written in a script he didn’t recognize either. He gave a short bow, and said, “How much for a room with food?”

  “For you alone or the three of you?” the woman asked.

  “The three of us,” Atzler chimed in before the kobold could answer.

  Gunnolf indignantly flung his head toward the two elves. “Inviting yourselves?” he growled.

  The blonde innkeeper went on with her words, “I charge twenty Zoa per night per person typically but the three of you sharing the last room I have and it’s a bit quaint I ask only forty-five altogether.”

  Gunnolf stared vacantly at the elves. Even with his eyes hidden Lylen knew those eyes were staring through her and Atzler as she awkwardly shifted herself. Gunnolf reluctantly dropped the coins on the counter while staring at the both of them, almost annoyed.

  The woman smiled happily as she collected them, “Thank you very much.” She turned her head to the doorway to the right as she called out a man’s name.

  A stout man stumbled through the doorway, balding head with a crown of black hair around the sides and a stubby beard. It would be easy to think of him as a dwarf, but his accent was plain, and he was still a few inches taller than most dwarves, being roughly five feet in height. “Yes, my wife?” he responded to the innkeeper.

  “Take these three to the last room under our roof, please. They paid their fare. The last available room is in the back on the second floor.”

  The man nodded, “Yes, my love.”