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“So, I guess we found the core…” I said, staring at the scene unfolding before our eyes. Something felt off about the whole thing, and it wasn’t until I moved around the window that I figured out what.

“Magnified windows,” Richard said, tapping the glass. “Came across one of these in Passion’s Trial. Awful handy, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I replied, shifting over to an unmagnified area. I couldn’t see a thing. Not the delver fighting for his life, or even the horde attacking him. The enormous globe… looked nearly as large, which spoke to its insane size. It had to be at least as large as the pyramid of Dominion’s Trial. Maybe even bigger. 

“So far…” Aerion said softly. 

“How far do you reckon they are?” Richard asked.

“Best guess? Maybe twenty miles?”

“Right. Was thinking the same myself. You think they’ve got snowmobiles?”

“Er…”

“Ah,” Richard said, looking embarrassed. “Apologies, mate. They’re these contraptions we’ve got back home. Makes short work of the snow. I imagine there’s some magical equivalent here, yeah?”

“Do you mean those?” Aerion asked, pointing to the glass. Richard and I both looked, and sure enough, a group of Hobs appeared to be riding a wide square platform on skis with a mast. Except instead of a sail, there was instead a crow’s nest with a skeleton mage. The contraption was cutting tracks into the pristine snow, and though it looked slow from out here, they couldn’t have been doing any less than thirty miles an hour.

“You think he’s the one making that thing go?” Richard asked.

I shrugged. “Doubt we’ll ever have a chance to find out.”

“Why’d you say that?” Richard asked, turning from the window.

I thumbed to the speeder. “Because even assuming we knew where they kept those things, I’m guessing they’ll be under heavy guard. Maybe even behind a bay door that, in all likelihood, is sealed shut.”

“Hmm,” Richard mumbled as he stroked his chin. “You make some fair points, Greg. Still, I reckon it’s our only way there, yeah?”

“Sorry, but what exactly is your plan?” Aerion asked. “Do you intend to save that delver?”

Richard gave her a look that was equal parts shock and confusion. “Yes?” he said, glancing my way. “Would you, if you saw a fellow delver in need?”

“I…” Aerion looked away in anguish.

“We, er… Don’t have a great track record saving people,” I said, speaking for Aerion. “Didn’t exactly end well.”

Richard’s expression melted into one of anguish and sympathy.

“Can’t blame yourself, mate,” he said, addressing Aerion. “Awful noble of you to even try. I figure that’s about all that anyone can do. The rest’s up to god, yeah?”

“You mean Passion?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Oh, er… Yes, I suppose it’d be, wouldn’t it?” Richard said, giving me a sheepish grin. 

Most people would’ve glossed over that, but I was from the same world, and for him to say that... 

So Richard was religious. Back on Earth. I had to wonder how he took the revelation of Passion being an actual deity. Most religions didn’t exactly teach about gods popping up in your life and giving you powers, after all…

“Regardless,” Richard said, clearing his throat. “We’re three of us, and none weak. I reckon we’ll make quite a good a show of it, so long as we try. But I must try. I understand if you two feel that—”

“We’ll go,” Aerion and I said at once, but likely for different reasons.

I looked at Aerion, who flushed slightly. “As you said, he’s fighting out there, alone,” she said. “Rewards aside, working together and looking out for one another should be the obvious course of action.”

“Right you are, Aerion,” Richard said with an approving nod before looking my way.

“That, and we’re decently strong as we are,” I said. “But with another powerhouse like that? We’ll absolutely demolish this dungeon. That means safety for us, and lives saved back at Basecrest.  Also,” I pointed at the massive sphere, “I’m pretty sure the core lives inside that thing. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it looks just like the one we used to enter the dungeon.”

“Excellent points, all. Hadn’t thought of the core being another entrance myself. So!” Richard said, clapping his hands together. “We all seem to be in agreement. Splendid. Now… How do we get there?”

— — 

The path down to the crater was unmarked, but as luck would have it, another group of Hobs came rushing down our tunnel. Their thundering footsteps gave us ample warning which we used to locate another junction and hide in much the same way we’d done for the previous horde. Or maybe squad was the better word—these Hobs were far too organized to call a horde. They acted no differently from soldiers in an organized military.

Regardless, we followed them after they’d passed. It wasn’t long until they left our passage, making a series of turns that led them to a platform that they all piled onto.

The platform was actually a lift, which lowered through the hissing of steam.

I glanced at Aerion, who nodded.

“Their magic seems quite advanced,” she commented. “Similar to that of my own people.”

“That right?” Richard asked. “I must say, I certainly did not expect steam machines when I first entered Passion’s territory. Downright medieval there, I tell you. Your home must be quite the place.”

“It… has its perks,” Aerion said diplomatically, though while her feelings toward Order’s territory might have been a tangled mess, I could sense that she held a lingering attachment for the place. I couldn’t wait to see it some day.

We didn’t dare join the Hobgoblins on their lift, but we did watch approximately how far down they went—about what felt like ten floors—before taking the wooden ladder that had been installed in its own little shaft next to it. 

“Y’know, back on my world, this wouldn’t have passed muster,” Richard said, huffing as we climbed down, one rung at a time.  “There, we have emergency stairs, not ladders. I mean, just imagine trying to fit a squad of those hobs in here if the lift’s broken! It’s bloody bonkers!”

I had to agree. Forget Hobgoblins; the ladder was barely big enough for us. Whoever designed this thing clearly didn’t intend the lift mechanism to break. And who knew? Maybe their particular combination of steam and magic meant that it never did?

All I knew was that climbing this thing was a massive pain in the ass. I’d hoped that my Vigor and Dominion stats would speed up the arduous task of climbing down ten floors, but this seemed to require more finesse than sheer strength and stamina, and so we all proceeded at a place that could only be described as glacial.

It took so long, in fact, that another squad of hobs passed us by on the lift, shaking our rickety staircase and drowning us with steam. I had never felt the urge to cough so badly as I did in that moment.

Thankfully, I managed to reign it in, as did Philip and Aerion, and the steam passed without the Hobs being any wiser.

Wet with sweat and cool steam, we finally reached the bottom floor. Or at least, as far down as the ladder went.

I expected the ladder to dump us into yet another series of halls. I could not have been more wrong.

Whatever this space was, it was massive. Easily five stories in height, and maybe four football fields wide, we’d entered into a warehouse of colossal scale.

“What in the world…?” Richard muttered. I was thinking the exact same thing. Why build something like this?

“Look,” Aerion said, pointing. “Over there.”

The squads of hobs that had passed shuffled aimlessly on the far side of the space.

“I’ve not a clue why they made this place so big, but boy am I thankful for it,” Richard said. “We’re right out in the open and none of those buggers have even caught a whiff!”

“That, and Hobgoblins have pretty terrible eyesight,” I said. “Question is… What are they waiting for?”

My question was answered a moment later when one of the walls on the far side revealed itself to be a door as it slid open, bringing with it the biting cold of the outside air.

The snow was so blindingly bright on the other side that all of us were forced to avert our eyes. Even with my eyelids almost fully closed, I could barely stand to look at the sight.

 When the door finally closed and we could see again, one of those snow-ships we’d seen earlier had suddenly appeared. 

Pandemonium broke out the moment it came to a halt, and for a moment, I thought I was watching a mutiny occur.

The hobs that had been idling around suddenly broke out into a frenzy of action. Each punching, kicking, and shoving each other to get to the barge. They were so violent in their motions that I thought their goal was to destroy the barge.

A dreadlocked Urukai-Predator commander onboard the ship kicked off the marauding hobs, bringing his boot down to smash a hob’s hand. The hobgoblin in question screamed in pain and fell back into the throng, only to be replaced by another hopeful.

Tiring of this, the commander barked a command that I could hear even from this far away.

“Order!” he shouted, but while the hobgoblins’ intensity might have decreased a bit, they showed no signs of obeying.

The commander, seemingly had enough, jumped off the ship and into the fray, and for a moment, we lost sight of him in the throng.

“You reckon they did him in?” Richard asked.

“I’d be shocked if they did,” I replied. “Aerion and I fought one of those on our way here. They’re no pushovers.”

Aerion nodded vigorously. “Agreed. I’d be surprised if—”  

Like a switch had been flipped, the roars and the shouts suddenly silenced, and a bloody commander jumped back onto the barge.

“One by one. You’ll get your turn.”

Now cowed, the hobs piled onto the barge until it was full. Then the bay door opened briefly to allow them to set out into the white snow before slamming shut behind them.

The handful of hobs that had been left behind resumed their normal lethargy, ambling around aimlessly.

“Well,” Richard said with his hands on his hips. “That’s that, I suppose.”

“Right,” I replied. “We should see if we can find another exit. Maybe they’ll have other vehicles that can ferry us there.”

“Mates?” Richard asked with a big grin as he turned to face Aerion.

“Yes?” Aerion replied uncertainly. 

For some reason, I had a terrible feeling about what he was about to say. Aerion, it seemed, shared my worries, and for good reason.

“Pardon, but you sound like you know your way around machinery, eh?” Richard said, turning to Aerion. “You, er, wouldn’t happen to know how to pilot one of those contraptions by any chance, would you?”

Comments

ThoMiCroN

Snowmobiles were invented during WW2 so Richard is at least from the 20th century.