Jeremy pulled off his mask. “Guys, adventurers are coming.”
The three dwarves looked back at him.
“Okay. Good one, Rogue,” Thorg responded. “We always treat other adventurers with caution. The most pleasant, harmless- seeming adventurers will gut you in an instant if they get the chance.” He clapped his hands together. “Everybody. Shields up, draw weapons. What sort of adventurers?”
“Adventurers who are real and not part of training. And they feel dangerous.”
“Are you sure?” Thorg looked doubtful.
The faint sound of music drifted into the passageway, followed by a thick, dark mist that flowed toward them. The music grew louder as the mist approached.
Four adventurers came out of the mist. In their armor, they resembled normal humans, with two arms, two legs, and a head. But they had small, goat-like horns protruding through holes in their helmets, and their hoof-like feet were smaller than those of a human or dwarf.
MEAN KID!
Shothorapet
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Boy
Child Fighter: Level 20
MEAN KID!
Seraporet
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Boy
Child Fighter: Level 19
MEAN KID!
Tothraret
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Boy
Child Fighter: Level 24
MEAN KID!
Shifhorep
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Boy
Child Fighter: Level 21
“What happened to the tuskers?” Tessi whispered. “They were the only adventurers on the fourth floor when we left.”
“Nothing good, I'm sure,” Thorg said. “Stay behind us, Rogue. Everyone, plug your ears. Nrawth use music to subdue their enemies.” He handed Jeremy some putty.
“It would seem you could use my help,” Flint said from behind him. “Too bad. I can't bring myself to bother.”
“You realize what will happen if I die,” Jeremy whispered.
“I won't let you die,” Flint responded. “But that leaves many possibilities.”
Jeremy activated Concealment, plugged his ears with Thorg's putty, and hid behind his larger companions. He might have to use his abilities to defeat this threat. This would raise unwanted questions, but that couldn't be helped.
The music coming out of the dark mist sounded like pipes, but was loud and grating, setting Jeremy's teeth on edge. The putty in his ears did little to block the noise.
The four Nrawth fighters danced towards the dwarves in time with the music. Their dance reminded him of tap dancing. But there was nothing friendly or celebratory about it; rather, it was a show of strength.
Shothorapet took the lead with a big smile on his face.
The Nrawth might have horns like a goat, Jeremy noticed, but their brown, slit-pupiled eyes screamed predator. He shivered.
Shothorapet produced a large bottle of an unknown substance that smelled of alcohol and shouted so they could hear. “Join us, my friends. We have much to celebrate!”
Thorg ducked his head, eyes never leaving the Nrawth adventurers. “Forgive us, but my party and I must refuse. We're leaving for the next floor of the dungeon and have no time for drinking.”
“You dwarves too good to drink with us lowly Nrawth? Your refusal will insult our prince!”
“Please forgive my rudeness,” Thorg responded. “But we are in a hurry. If you give us no trouble, you will receive none from us.”
Shothorapet laughed. “Not only an insult but a threat. It would appear we have no choice but to fight you.”
“I don't know where you're from,” Thorg said, “but in most parts of the universe, starting a fight with dwarves is considered unwise. I suggest you turn around and leave us.”
Shothorapet made a show of shaking with fear. “Oh. You dwarves are so terrifying. What shall we do?”
Jeremy felt mental power flowing from the dark mist. They were casting a spell. He nudged the dwarves as a warning. There was a tingling behind his mind, but nothing more.
Shothorapet drank from the bottle he'd offered to the dwarves and laughed. “Dwarves, so hard on the outside, but inside...” He kicked Thorg's chest, “Like jelly.”
Thorg crashed to the ground, where he lay motionless. Jeremy nudged the other two dwarves again and got no response. All three dwarves were completely paralyzed. He'd be too if his mental resistance weren't so high.
Jeremy watched from behind Tassi, as the mist faded, revealing four others.
MEAN KID!
Slilothreash
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Girl
Child Spellcaster Healer: Level 18
MEAN KID!
Thalastet (Noble Prince) Blessed and devoted servant of Thas, god of music.
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Boy
Child-Fighter: Level 26
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
MEAN KID!
Silothoreasht
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Girl
Child Spellcaster Mind Mage, Level 20
The fourth was different; a younger, barefoot girl wearing a torn gray tunic.
Gorthal
Race: Nrawth
Sex: Girl
Child-Slave: Seer. Property of Thalastet (Noble Prince)
She was being pulled by a chain wrapped around her waist, the other end held by the healer. She didn't resist, but her eyes were so sad as to be completely devoid of hope. Her face and body showed signs of abuse. Jeremy wondered how she'd ended up here. How could the dungeon allow slaves?
The grating pipe music continued, and Jeremy really wished it would stop. The prince danced over to the dwarves, a big smile on his face. He took the bottle from Shothorapet's hands and drank from it, wiping his mouth with a gold, silk-like handkerchief. “I take no pleasure in killing you, my rude dwarven friends. But as future king, I owe it to my people to gain as many levels as possible. You should take comfort in knowing your deaths will contribute to something great.” The prince looked down on the dwarves. “Since I gain more experience if I kill them with my bare hands, I'm thinking strangulation?”
“An excellent idea, my lord,” Shothorapet said. “Would you like our help?”
“Absolutely not,” the prince said. “This I must do myself, for honor's sake. Silothoreasht, release the dwarves one at a time on my signal.”
Jeremy felt Flint yawn behind him. “If only there were a powerful being who could help you guys out. Agree to leave the dungeon, and I'll deal with these creatures.”
Jeremy ignored Flint and wrestled with what to do. These were terrible beings, and there was no question that they deserved to die. He was down an arm, so he couldn't use his bow and arrows. Hitting the prince with a full fireball/lightning blast should do a lot to remedy this situation, but again, this would be hard to explain to the dwarves. Stabbing a few of these creatures in the back would be more believable. And who did he have to kill to get rid of this cursed music?
His thoughts were interrupted by a loud, hysterical giggling from the slave girl.
“I lied! I lied!” She jumped up and down with excitement. “I promised you good fortune on the fifth floor! The truth is, you're all going to die!”
The loud smack of the healer's hand on the girl's face silenced the giggling.
Jeremy looked at the slave girl's eyes and shivered. She was completely insane.
She was also a great distraction. The entire party turned on her.
“I remember suggesting we leave the little brat behind,” Shothorapet said.
“Nonsense,” the prince responded. “The girl is an excellent seer when properly motivated. How are we going to die, seer? Not from these dwarves, surely?”
She was silent until the healer drew back his hand. She took a shuddering breath. “Not dwarves. The masked one! The abomination that will emerge from this dungeon and make the universe bleed!”
Jeremy felt a chill. Did she mean him?
“Nonsense,” snapped the mind mage. “There is no such being, and the horror of the fifth floor is safely in its cage.”
Jeremy dropped Concealment and stepped forward. “Uh, guys. Nobody needs to die. Turn off that horrible music, release the dwarves and the slave girl, and leave!”
The slave girl's eyes bulged when she saw Jeremy. “You!”
“What did you mean, make the universe bleed?” Jeremy asked the girl.
She just stared at him.
“Silothoreasht!” the prince snarled. “You have one job. What is that creature doing here?”
“He hid from me, my lord. I'll deal with him now.” The mind mage turned to Jeremy with the full force of her power. Jeremy felt a slight increasing pressure; the mage's face took on an angry grimace. Shothorapet produced a small device and hurled it at Jeremy. Time slowed, and the device expanded into whirling, jagged blades powered by magic. Too fast and pointy for him to catch, he grabbed one of his knives and smacked the device with his blade, sending it flying harmlessly above him.
It was clear that this situation would not be resolved through negotiation.
Jeremy reactivated concealment, moved to the side, and retaliated, using his Mental Attack skill for the first time. He wasn't sure what to expect. Very little, it would seem. His skill felt diffuse, perhaps for use against groups. He wasn't sure the Nrawth even noticed.
His disappearance sent the enemy party into disarray. He felt one of them cast a finding spell.
Jeremy hurled his knife at the mind mage. It bounced harmlessly off her chest, blocked by her magic shield. He threw the traps Thorg had given him at the Nrawth party, shouting, “activate!” The traps sent out tendrils, entangling the Nrawth fighters, causing them to curse as they struggled to free themselves.
A second thrown bladed object flew through the space he'd been an instant before. He slipped around and behind the enemy party, keeping the mind mage's body between him and the dwarves. He hit her with a lightning attack. Her magic shield provided protection, but her body twitched and spasmed from the shock.
The mind mage screamed and spun around, casting a webbing spell at Jeremy, which he smoothly dodged, and cast lightning again. This time, she collapsed, dropping to the passageway floor.
The slave girl's eyes followed Jeremy, somehow seeing through his concealment. “I see you! I see you!”
The dwarves twitched, recovering their mobility.
The enemy party threw more blades and trap spells where they thought Jeremy might be. He continued dodging them as he slipped around the enemy group and approached the healer and slave girl.
A bladed device boomeranged towards the dwarves. Thorg, still on his back, smacked it out of the air with his sword.
“Get them!” Thorg roared, jumping to his feet. He rushed Shothorapet, bashing him with his shield hard enough to send the Nrawth fighter flying. The three dwarves charged, engaging the prince and his fighters in a furious battle, moving so fast that non-adventurers would have found it impossible to follow. The outnumbered dwarves were skilled fighters, and it turned out that Thorg's claims from earlier about dwarf fighting skill were not idle words. Thorg blocked one attack, while Tessi stabbed the attacker in the chest.
The slave girl continued staring at Jeremy, "I see you! I see you!" She started to say something else when the healing mage drew her sword and slashed the slave girl's throat. She collapsed and died with a sad gurgling sound.
No! Jeremy rushed the healer, casting lightning again. He drew his sword and was about to stab the healer in the back when a thrown axe connected with her head. She went down.
Brosh ran the mind mage through with his sword.
Soon, the prince was the only one left.
“Mercy! Mercy! Please!” the prince screamed, cowering on the floor as Thorg towered over him.
“A king looks after his people! He treats them with respect! From the nobles to the slaves, you filthy Nrawth pig!” Thorg swung his sword again, cutting through the prince's helmet and into his head. The prince's body spasmed as he died.
The cursed music stopped with the death of the prince. There was silence.
