Slice

A large figure stepped through a door that was hanging from its hinges, and stopped to survey the room beyond. Bodies lay strewn about the chamber. Several had been fried, though many bore sword wounds. Most were cat-people, though an Elven corpse was upside down against the far wall with an apparently broken neck. At least four dark elves were interspersed amongst fallen stone pillars and chunks of granite ceiling.

The Golem picked its way through the carnage, towards the center of the room. It stopped in front of the golden throne, looming over Harvey, who was slumped in the chair with his eyes closed. There was a large gash down his side, congealed blood around the wound appeared as a black stain against the colorful material of his robes.

"Where did they go?" the Golem asked.

"Eh? What? Oh it's you. Bugger off, can't you see I'm healing?"

The large outline leaned forward, red eyes boring into the recumbent figure. "Tell me where they went."

"Or what? Are you threatening me? Hahahaha!" Harvey laughed. "Come on stony, just try it."

The Golem made a noise. If it had had emotions it would have been feeling angry. It raised a fist. "Tell me now, or I smash your moldy head into paste."

McVon sat up and sneered. "I don't think so."

The fist moved, a blur as it plummeted down. Harvey reacted with equal speed, throwing his hand up, palm out. The fist met a blue wall of energy which stopped its flight cold. The two remained motionless for a long moment, each straining to best the other. The red eyes of the animation boring into the lifeless ones of the immortal wizard, as each put their strength into the contest.

Finally the Golem stepped back. Harvey heaved a sigh and settled into his chair again. He looked at his dungeon counterpart for a moment, and then waved at a pile of rocks near the wall. "They went that way, through the rubble. Into the Under Plains."

The Golem looked at him for a second and nodded before turning away. "Next time," it said.

"Yeah, right," replied Harvey. He watched the Golem start to dig through the collapsed ceiling, a calculating expression on his face. "Oh, you may want to tell your masters he had The Girl with him."

The animation stopped digging a moment and looked at him. "The girl?"

The wizard nodded.

The Golem thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. "Not my problem, she doesn't fall within my mission parameters." It started digging again.

Harvey smiled to himself and closed his eyes, letting the power of the throne pulse through him as he listened to the sound of burrowing. It had been a good day.

~ * ~

Gerald swiveled about. "Over that way, just beyond the bottomless pit, is the Dark Lake. The fetid waters of which lap up against the Goblin Forest where the reserves stay."

"Reserves?" Cuthbert cocked his head to one side.

"Aye. Under the black…" Gerald glanced at Dreth and revised his words. "Under the trees of the Goblin forest is where the dungeon creatures wait until they are assigned for duty."

"A waiting area?" Dreth asked.

"Why not? You don't think the denizens just appear out of thin air do you?"

"I never went there," said Cuthbert, a tad bitterly.

"You didn't?" The goblin scratched his head, dislodging several small insects. "Come to think of it, there aren't usually many undead there."

"Blatant discrimination," huffed Percy.

"Wait. You live in this place?" said Dreth. "I thought you roamed this land, acknowledging no master and all that."

"Yes, well in the night maybe, but I have to sleep somewhere don't I? And I don't acknowledge any master. The missus now, well she's another matter."

"I see." Dreth looked at Redthorne, who was sagging badly. "How far away is this forest of yours?"

"You have to venture through the bla… er, none light sands, avoid the giant scorpions, then it's just five minutes down the road, first on the left. Can't miss it, bloody great big forest. Trees everywhere."

"How about you act as a guide?"

"Sorry, I'm a bit busy…" Gerald looked up into the pointy end of Dreth's sword. "Love to, love to. Let's be off shall we? Mind that rock now, wouldn't want you tripping up and skewering me would we?"

Percy and Sprat helped Redthorne to his feet, and they all set off after the goblin, into the Under Plains of Dume.

~ * ~

"Down here, it's just ahead," said Garret.

Slice Gutgood peered along the passageway at the dim light coming from the entrance. "Good," he said. "Go back to Harm, tell him we've found it. We'll investigate."

"B…but Harm said to wait for him," stammered Garret, who was rather cowardly for an elf warrior.

Slice knocked him to the ground with a backhanded swipe. In contrast to his two companions, he was large and muscular. Far more so than usual for one of his kind, and he had used the extra weight to help him bully and kill his way up to squad leader rank. He didn't intend to stop there either. "Do as I say, or I'll throw you in first," he snarled.

Garret whimpered, but picked himself up and scampered back down the tunnel.

"Are we certain this is wise?"

Slice looked at his remaining companion. Primrose Slyeye looked back steadily. If Slice was honest with himself, Primrose unnerved him. The other dark elf was small and slim, slightly smaller than normal if anything. And Primrose! What sort of name was that? Yet there was something about him that halted Slice's usual response, which would have been to knock him around the head and yell at him. Instead he just growled. "I am in charge here. Do as I say."

Primrose merely shrugged and gestured for Slice to continue.

Glaring at the scout, Gutgood pulled his sword out of its sheath and stepped forward carefully. Primrose sauntered along behind, seemingly at ease with the world.

The door was hanging off the hinges. Inside the room was a mess. Half of the ceiling had fallen in somehow, semi-burying a variety of victims. Slice saw some of the cat-men they had run into briefly once, as well as four members of the previous raiding party. One elf was lying against the far wall.

"Looks like we missed the fun," said Slice, nudging a cat man with his foot.

"What's that over there?" said Primrose, gesturing with his sword.

"Looks like some kind of throne. Maybe there's someone on it."

"After you then, oh glorious squad leader."

Resisting the urge to break the others' arms, Slice closed in on the sitting figure. It seemed to be a human in long colorful robes. He was apparently asleep.

Grinning, Slice slid up to the man and placed his sword against the throat. "Wake up!" He said.

"Ah. Slice…" Primrose started.

"Quiet you!" Slice jiggled his blade. "I said wake up."

The man opened his eyes. Dull, gray eyes. "I'm in a good mood today," he said. "So if you remove your sword and your person from my presence, I will allow you to carry on living."

Slice laughed the low throaty and confident laugh of thugs everywhere who think they have the upper hand, and yet are about to find out they have just picked on some kind of super being from another dimension.

"Well, so be it."

Slice screamed as he was picked up by an invisible force and thrown upwards, to smash against the ceiling. "Wha…!!"

"I did warn you." The voice floated up from below.

Slice screamed again as his armor burst into flame, charring his flesh. The smell of burning meat reached his nostrils. He thought he could vaguely hear Primrose shouting. The tatters of his clothing fell away, dropping to the floor far below and lessening the pain slightly.

The reprieve didn't last. There was a giggle, from some unseen creature, and his burnt skin was picked at and stripped away. Agony shot through Slice, searing his being as his flesh was slowly peeled back, to reveal muscle and bone below.

Blood dripped down like rain as the invisible hands pulled at his now exposed ribs. A crack echoed around the chamber as one was snapped off.

Darkness began to close around Slice as something dug into the hole in his front and, with a wet sucking noise, ripped his heart from his body. The last thing he heard was a quiet voice.

"Delicious."