Crossing the hills to Axo Mine had a calming beauty to the scenery, vibrant green grass, small creatures scurried about and each hill they reached the pinnacle of, they could see the great cliffside ahead to the east. A large hawk flew overhead, and the two elves stared at it in awe.

  “Aetherscorn afflicts you. Why didn’t you mention it?” Gunnolf questioned Lylen.

  She glanced up at the tall kobold with a glare like daggers, “Like you care. You don’t open to anyone and expect me to throw it out there?”

  “She’s right,” Atzler chimed in. “You’re an ass, Gunnolf. Always cold, mysterious, and aloof.”

  Gunnolf stopped in mid-step and turned on the red-haired man. “I wasn’t speaking to you.”

  Atzler stood his ground, “You’re not in control of us Gunnolf. You don’t get to call all the shots so I will speak as I want!”

  Kill him and be done with it. Be down to twelve! Gunnolf’s hand lowered to the hilt of his tachi. “Do you wish to test your skills against me Atzler?”

  “Stop it!” Lylen broke in. “We need to reach Zarmhel. We can’t do that if we kill one another. Gunnolf, we know a lot about your past now thanks to those knights back in Parcielle. We want to trust you but I need to know, you were apart of the Osinara massacre twenty years ago, right?”

  Gunnolf gritted his teeth and lowered his head but he said nothing.

  “You were described as a mad murderer who killed anyone in that tragic incident,” Lylen continued.

  “I did kill many that day,” Gunnolf admitted.

  “Why?” Atzler asked.

  “We were tasked in seeking a specific target as per our contract. Fulfilling it came at a great price,” he procured his gourd from his waist and took a swig. “I wish to speak no further on it. What rumors you heard about me, have truth and lies weaved in them.” Kill them both!

  “But that doesn’t explain everything. Illisea wants you to pay for war crimes you committed,” Atzler said.

  “Let them try to claim their bounty,” Gunnolf responded.

  Reaching the entrance of Axo Mine, the three of them were greeted by four dwarven guards at the entrance. The sun had neared its pinnacle by now as the sunlight barely reached the boots of the first dwarf.

  “What brings ye ta the Axo Mine?” asked the first dwarf man wearing large leather boots with reddish brown hair spilling from under a steel helmet and long, braided beard of the same color, adorned in a black hauberk and gray trousers.

  “Has an aviar by the name of Zarmhel visited this mine?” Lylen asked.

  The dwarf exchanged glances with his allies, “Och, doth anyone remember one o’ the wee bird men comin’ here?”

  To his left a black haired dwarf with a shorter beard spoke up, “Aye, jus’ before dawn. Requested ta enter and paid up with an odd cut ruby and two hundred Zoa. Mentioned he wanted a gander at the depths below where we stopped workin’ thirty years ago.”

  The first dwarf’s eyes went wide as saucers, “Are ye mad ta let anyone down there?!”

  The black haired dwarf raised his hands, “Those on guard from night shift tried ta warn ‘im but he paid well and insisted on it.”

  “I wonder why Zarmhel would go deep underground like that?” Atzler said.

  “Perhaps he found another artifact?” Lylen suggested.

  The first dwarf had his attention back to Lylen and her companions, “Ah doubt that lass, the only thing be down there after our predecessors picked it clean decades ago be the old bones o’ the dead. We stopped goin’ down that far due to nothin’ worthwhile be left and only the dead haunt that area.”

  “If who we seek went down there, we shall follow then. Would we be subject to paying the same fee?” Gunnolf asked.

  The dwarven man looked down, “Ye be willin’ ta pay to potentially part with yer own lives? Such absurdity. Ah should pound in the skulls o’ those who let the bird man enter. Ah cannae accept payment fer what may happen, lads. Go at yer own peril but be warned, the dead down there be relentless and each ye defeat will cause more ta rise.”

  “I guess we have no choice,” Lylen added. “Maybe Zarmhel will come out?”

  Gunnolf shook his head, “Doubtful. Zarmhel would’ve met us.”

  “I am here to meet you,” the deep voice of Zarmhel echoed from the darkness inside. Entering the light, the aviar was adorned in black robes with a red scroll woven down the center. His wings were folded behind his back as he used a staff with a large green stone embedded into the head of it as a cane.

  The dwarf spoke up, “Ah don’t recommend venturing deep under the mine. Ye be lucky to ‘ave emerged in one piece still.”

  Zarmhel waved a hand before the dwarves as he calmly said, “All will be precisely fine.”

  The three dwarves stared blankly but nodded. Finally, the brown haired dwarf said, “It be yer funeral if ye go back down.” He then brushed past the other two as they followed after and went back inside the mine.

  Zarmhel looked over the three of them, “Excellent work, Gunnolf!” he procured a sack of Zoa and handed it to the kobold. “Now come along, Lylen, Atzler, there is an urgent matter I need aid with. Gunnolf, please accompany us as well.”

  “What are we here for?” Lylen questioned.

  “You will see in due time,” the owl man answered as he led the three of them.

  The mine split off left and right, the dwarves had gone to the right while the sounds of dozens of pick axes were heard in the distance while Zarmhel kept to the left path. Gunnolf felt the sack as they walked, felt like five hundred Zoa by the size and weight of it. He tied it to his sash on his kamishimo and while he brought up the rear, he watched the others as they walked. What could be in this mine for us? The thought began itching his mind. Kill, kill, kill. The mad thought returned once more too.

  They soon came to a large slab on the floor at the end of the long tunnel. It was ten feet wide on every side, four inches thick, the slab was smooth and a dark gray color.

  “That looks very heavy,” Atzler said as they gazed at it.

  “How did you move─” Lylen went to ask but Zarmhel raised a hand, and he chanted.

  “Ogadoth-zwardeth, nithagash, vaskruth. Open the way of the ancient tomb and enter shall mortals.” The slab on the floor began glowing pink and the grinding of stone was heard as it shifted away from them.

  Lylen and Atzler stared in awe as it opened while Gunnolf stood still waiting for what would happen next. When it opened fully, stairs descended below. Zarmhel turned to face the three of them.

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  “Below is riddled with the undead as you have heard. Are you prepared to deal with what we might face?” the old aviar asked.

  Gunnolf, bringing up the rear, gave a deep grin. “I am ready to send the undead into oblivion.”

  “What are we after?” Lylen asked.

  “We will see when we get down there. There is an artifact below based on my resources,” Zarmhel answered.

  Holding the torch overhead Zarmhel led them inside, after a few moments distant grinding of stone was heard behind them.

  “Is that the entrance we came through?” Atzler asked. “I think its closing!”

  “Do not be alarmed Atzler, I can open it once more when our task is complete,” Zarmhel calmly reassured him. “It closes after some time to keep the undead trapped down here. This is a ruin after all, connected to the lost Dryad Empire.”

  Lylen’s eyes went wide, “Really?! How do you know Zarmhel?”

  “I do a lot of studying,” replied the owl-man. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, a long chilling corridor was before them. The floor was cut into small, round tiles covered in moss in splotchy areas. In small nooks on both sides of the corridor were the skeletal figures of humanoids of some kind laying flat within them.

  “This is creepier than the Ruins of Kyros,” Atzler said with a tinge of nervousness.

  “Don’t be a child,” Lylen said sharply. “We can handle ourselves.”

  Gunnolf was still silent as he brought up the rear, keeping a sharp eye for anything that moved. The upper walls on both sides had a faint green tinge to them as the torch light flickered and danced as Zarmhel kept it raised. Cobwebs and tattered remains of tapestries clung there as if still clinging to an ancient era.

  They saw the end of the corridor up ahead, a wide opening cut in a rectangular opening almost wide enough for the four of them to fit side by side, with pitch-blackness that followed after. Something skittered across the floor ahead going out the opening.

  Atzler and Lylen had their weapons in hand while Gunnolf merely watched cautiously, both tanto and tachi sheathed. Zarmhel came to a stop, looking up, he raised the torch to a wall sconce on his left to ignite it and another on the right. Both ignited illuminating the ten paces around them, spilling light through the open doorway. The clacking of bones was heard out in the darkness as the tiny creature skittered from left to right just outside the edge of the torchlights.

  Zarmhel pointed straight ahead, “Something stirs!” he called out as he threw the torch forward through the door.

  A gurgled shriek came as the torchlight chased the darkness away from a skeletal being on the ground as it quickly crawled to get out of the light. It was no more than two paces wide and three long held together by rotting flesh and tendons connecting to bones with a cracked goblin skull for a head.

  Lylen and Atzler had their weapons in hand while Gunnolf darted forth, his tanto drawn. Approaching the undead creature on the floor to the kobold’s surprise was a dark chamber, blue and green glowing off the walls as small stones on the floor provided small bits of light. The tiny crawling undead stopped near two swaying figures in the darkness that caused Gunnolf to stop.

  Atzler was behind him as Lylen launched a small flame from her hand at the first figure, the light before the fire met the being revealed living skeletons with round shields and curved scimitars in hand. The first slashed at Gunnolf whose tanto parried the assault, the next skeleton raised its blade at the kobold, but a throwing axe removed its head, sending pieces of neckbones to shatter in mid-swing. In the darkness ahead, four more bony figures could be seen rising to meet the four intruders.

  Gunnolf spun with the tanto extended shattering sternums and ribs as the next two skeletons drew near.

  A slash struck Lylen from behind, she went to yell while Atzler screamed her name as he darted over and gave a flying kick to the bone warrior, sending it to crash into the wall.

  Zarmhel held out both feathered hands from his large robe and a white ball of magic gathered in it. “Out of the way!” he shouted. “Light of the divine, scorch the foes ahead in purest judgment, Illuminated Blast!” the magical sphere shot forth from the aviar’s hands as Atzler shielded Lylen and Gunnolf leaped straight up and over the sphere that was rapidly growing in size and each skeleton it struck sent bones flying in all directions. The white ball illuminated the path through the room and nearly a dozen skeletons were decimated in its path.

  “We must run on!” Zarmhel called out as he darted forth first. A wide entryway was at the back of the room before the magical orb crashed into the stone wall.

  “Can you move, Lylen?” Atzler asked.

  “I think so,” she said out of breath as Atzler helped her up and both headed after Zarmhel toward the opening while Gunnolf kept striking down anything that dared to get within arm’s length. Another three skeletons met Gunnolf’s tanto as the blade shined white against each one it struck on the way out of the room. The last skeleton tried to thrust its blade into Gunnolf’s back but his tanto parried it from over his shoulder and with a spin he disarmed it before giving a slash down its sternum which made it crumble.

  “That seems to be the last of them,” said Zarmhel as he looked over everyone after examining the room they left behind. “Is everyone alright?”

  Atzler felt Lylen’s back, the cut was through her clothes, and dampness was felt.

  “It’s sore,” Lylen admitted.

  Atzler applied one of his clear half-spherical medicines to her back. “It isn’t much, but I hope this clear gel helps.”

  She nodded and thanked him as Gunnolf watched their surroundings carefully. The corridor ahead was dark but more of those glowing stones of now red, blue, and green gave off some light as Zarmhel held the torch. The passage beneath was less of the mountainous stone carved walls as granite stone walls replaced them with each step. The three of them followed after the wide and looming birdman.

  They passed by rooms with rounded metal doors sealing off their entrances while Zarmhel kept a slow yet steady pace forward.

  “Should we explore a bit?” Lylen asked. “This is a ruin and who knows what treasure we would find down here.”

  Zarmhel turned his head mostly around to her, “And risk fighting more of the undead? Be grateful we got by those skeletons mostly unscathed. I do not pay you to explore.” His head turned forward again, “We should be nearly to our destination now.” He opened the door at the end of the corridor; its creak of the iron hinges were piercing to the ears to where even Gunnolf lowered his head enduring the high pitch.

  Stairs descended further within, each step led to the walls opening a little wider, the ceiling became higher. Zarmhel was taking in the environment in such awe. “I still wish I understood why we are here,” Atzler complained.

  “These ruins were once the part of Ilix, if my research has been accurate,” said Zarmhel. “An artifact should await us at the end of these hallowed halls.”

  “Zarmhel,” Lylen began as he turned his head to see her out of his right eye. “Why are you after this artifact and what was the point of turning the other one we found in Kyros Ruins into the Dual Elders of Lilthiken?”

  “So many questions,” he replied. “It will help us fend off Illisea for war is once again at our feet.”

  “So, there is truth to the rumors as of late,” Atzler chimed in.

  “You three will be paid well for this task I need you for,” Zarmhel assured as he continued forth. “More importantly, the fate of the Low Lands may depend on the actions we are about to take. Certainly, you know by now the Princess of Illisea is missing?”

  Lylen nodded, “Yes, that worries us because the Illiseans who escorted her here have been desperately for her and it seems war will be inevitable if the King finds out.”

  “That is precisely why we must prepare for such. We must assume the Princess is dead,” Zarmhel ended in a cold tone.

  Atzler’s jaw fell open, “But we don’t know that for sure though.”

  The aviar said nothing more on the subject and continued onward while Atzler stopped, and then Lylen stopped beside him. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, but we should keep going.”

  Gunnolf came in behind the both of them quietly and silently prompted them to keep moving.

  “Alright, I’ll keep going,” the elf man said.

  At the bottom of the stairs, the landing was over twenty paces wide and two large gold stones embedded into the ceiling gave a glow that shined upon a large stone door of stone etched with various symbols and markings. The door was ten paces high and nearly seven across. Three counterclockwise swirls with a round hole two inches in diameter was on the right side of the door. The left had two wavy etchings with a crescent moon shape pointing down beneath them. The bottom center of the door had a twisted face embossed on it with an open mouth.

  Gunnolf studied the door carefully as Zarmhel approached it and knelt down to reach inside the face’s mouth. “I feel the gemstone inside,” said Zarmhel. “O pistirs, nommus Nikros. Srei dna wolla truner orf sersuctiron fo odom.” With the last of the words spoken, the door began grinding against the walls while the etchings began glowing purple. Zarmhel removed his hand as the door faded as if it never was there while a large, violet amethyst was at his feet. It glowed gently as he picked it up, it was as large as a fist.

  “This is most pleasing,” the aviar said contently as he examined the stone. “The Malkirath Stone is in mortal clutches once more.” His eyes peered to the next chamber.

  “Well done,” said a voice behind them all.

  Gunnolf looked over his shoulder and gave a start

  before his teeth showed recognizing the man behind him. “What is the meaning of this?!”

  The man he had encountered back at Basgere Cave stood only six steps away from the kobold. A wide brimmed brown hat concealing his face and long tan coat hiding the rest of his features. Over his shoulder was an unconscious woman in a white dress.

  Zarmhel cheerfully greeted, “Welcome Phantasm! I see you have secured the necessary tool.”

  The man gave a nod, “It wasn’t easy, and she attempted to escape twice but all is well.”