The sound of pickaxes striking rock echoed like a funeral drum deep within the Kharzag Iron Mine. Each strike hammered not only the stone but also my skull—and my already crumbling dignity. The air was heavy, thick with dust and the sweat of dozens of dwarves—and of four completely out-of-place adventurers.
"Faster, strippers!" growled Grorn, the dwarven foreman, a broad fellow with a scar splitting his beard in two. "That ore quota won't extract itself!"
I lifted my borrowed pickaxe, feeling every muscle in my body scream in protest. Beside me, Elara was trying, in vain, to use a light levitation spell to help carry a cart of ore.
"Just... a little... more…" she muttered, sweating. The cart wobbled, rose about five centimeters off the ground, and then crashed down with a loud bang, spilling ore everywhere. Elara collapsed to the floor, gasping. "Mana... zero…" she groaned.
"Another cart destroyed!" Grorn roared, pointing a thick finger at us. "That's going on your tab! Five more coins!"
Liriel, leaning against a wall with her cup of magical wine, snorted. "Manual labor. What degradation for a deity. I should be commanding these mountains to open, not... digging through them like a rat."
"At least you're not the one digging," I shot back, wiping sweat from my brow. "You just 'supervise.'"
"Of course! My presence alone is blessing enough for this filthy place."
Vespera, surprisingly, was the one doing best. Her succubus agility helped her crawl through narrow crevices—but her chaotic tendencies still showed. Suddenly, a shout came from her tunnel.
"Look! A vein of shiny crystal!"
Before anyone could warn her, we heard a CRACK followed by a loud rumble. Vespera ran out of the tunnel, covered in dust, just seconds before part of the ceiling collapsed.
"Oops," she said with an embarrassed smile. "I thought it was sturdy."
Grorn turned red. "You imploded the East Tunnel! That's another twenty coins! Your debt's up to eighty-five now!"
I closed my eyes, trying to contain my frustration. We were more in debt than when we'd arrived. And the fragments in my backpack, hidden under a pile of ore, whispered louder than ever—as if feeding on our despair.
At that moment, a dwarven messenger, panting, ran up to Grorn and whispered something in his ear. The foreman frowned and glanced our way.
"Seems you've got visitors," he grumbled. "Up top. For you lot."
We climbed to the surface, relieved for a break but uneasy. Who would seek us out here? Elves? Ambassador Kaelen?
At the entrance of the fortress, beneath the gray mountain sky, two familiar figures awaited us: Sylva, the sharp-eyed elven huntress, and Gorr, the swamp hunter with a beard full of moss. Sylva held her bow with disdain, while Gorr sniffed the air like an animal.
"The Strippers," Sylva said with a sarcastic smile. "Or should I say... 'Dwarven Underwear Desecrators'? Word travels fast."
My face burned. "What do you want?"
"We heard rumors," Gorr replied, his voice a low growl. "The elves of Lytheria are offering a generous bounty for you. Alive or dead. Mostly dead."
"And?" Liriel cut in, lifting her chin. "You came to capture us? Try it. A goddess doesn't run from mortals."
Sylva laughed. "No, irritating divinity. We hate the elves of Lytheria more than we hate you. They're arrogant, think they're better than every other forest elf. And their Ambassador Kaelen... well, he and I have history."
Gorr grunted in agreement. "They expanded their hunting grounds. Killed my best swamp chewer."
I didn't know what a swamp chewer was, and I didn't want to ask.
"So... you're enemies of our enemies?" I asked cautiously.
"Something like that," Sylva confirmed. "We know you have the fragments. The elves of Lytheria want to use them for a control ritual. If they succeed, their power over the forests will become absolute. And that's bad for everyone—dwarves, hunters, and even fallen goddesses."
"I didn't fall! I was dragged!" Liriel protested.
"The point is," Sylva continued, ignoring her, "we propose a temporary alliance. We help you get rid of the elves—and you give us one of the fragments afterward."
"A fragment?" I asked, suspicious. "Why?"
"Private business," Gorr growled. "Do you accept or not?"
Elara, who had recovered a bit, tugged on my sleeve. "Takumi, we can't trust them. They're... scary."
Vespera, on the other hand, looked delighted. "Hunters! How exciting! Do they have stories of blood and adventure?"
Liriel looked at me. "Treacherous mortals, Takumi. Remember the bard."
I remembered Ragnar—the bard who betrayed us to the elves. But we were cornered, in debt, and stuck in a dwarven fortress that was more of a gilded prison. We needed a way out.
"What exactly are you proposing?" I asked.
Sylva smiled, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "The elves are moving. They've tracked you here. Kaelen is camped in the Whispering Vale, a day's march away. He's got a small army, but he's waiting for reinforcements. If we strike now, we catch them off guard."
"Attack?" I exclaimed. "We're four... disasters!"
"Five and six," Gorr corrected, pointing to himself and Sylva. "And we know how to deal with elves."
"But why do you need us?" Elara asked timidly.
"Because the fragments are the bait," Sylva explained. "Kaelen is obsessed with them. If he learns you're on the move, he'll come after you. We set up an ambush in the Sunken Temple, in the caves beneath the valley. It's the perfect place—limited exits, great cover."
The Sunken Temple. The name sounded cold and dangerous.
"And what do we get out of this?" I questioned.
"Besides not being captured, tortured, and killed?" Sylva raised an eyebrow. "We guarantee your safe escape. And we'll talk to Durin to... renegotiate your debts."
That got my attention. The debt was as much a shackle as the elven threat.
Liriel sighed dramatically. "Very well. A temporary alliance with filthy mortals. But if you try to betray us, I'll turn you into frogs. Smelly frogs."
Sylva ignored the threat. "Good. You've got one hour to prepare. Meet us at the east gate. And come ready to get wet."
They turned and disappeared among the rocks.
We returned to the fortress under the dwarves' suspicious gazes. Durin, informed by Grorn, was waiting for us with crossed arms.
"So, you're joining the hunters," he said, unsurprised. "Well, anything to get you out of my mine. But listen carefully: if you survive, your debts will be reduced by fifty coins. If you die, your problem ends. If you betray the hunters and it comes back to me, I'll crush you myself."
Not exactly a blessing, but it was the best we were going to get.
An hour later, we were at the east gate. Sylva and Gorr handed us basic gear—ropes, a few dubious healing potions, and a magical air bubble, a strange item that looked like a glowing bladder.
"For the Sunken Temple," Gorr explained. "Hold it in your mouth. Gives you an hour of air."
"Is it... hygienic?" Elara asked hesitantly.
"Has it been used before?" Vespera questioned with morbid curiosity.
Gorr didn't answer.
The march to the Whispering Vale was tense and silent. Sylva and Gorr moved like shadows, while we stumbled over roots and stones. The fragments in my backpack felt heavier with every step, their whispers growing more urgent—almost rhythmic.
Finally, we reached the entrance to the caves. An underground river flowed into the darkness, and the air was cold and damp.
"The temple's at the end of this river," Sylva whispered. "There's a main chamber, partially submerged. We'll hide in the upper passages. You enter through the water, lure Kaelen into the chamber. When he's distracted, we strike."
Sounded simple. It always went wrong.
We entered the icy water. The air bubble worked, forming a small, breathable sphere around our heads. It was claustrophobic and smelled like old fish.
We swam through the underground river, the darkness broken only by bioluminescent fungi on the walls. Finally, the cave opened into a colossal chamber. It was the Sunken Temple. Stone columns covered in algae rose up to a ceiling lost in shadow. Part of the floor was submerged, forming a large, crystal-clear pool. On an elevated platform in the center stood a black stone altar, surrounded by statues of sea creatures worn down by time.
It was empty.
"Where are the elves?" Elara whispered, her voice echoing strangely through the air bubble.
That's when we heard them. Voices. Elves. They were entering the chamber through another, higher passage. Ambassador Kaelen led them—impeccable in his elven armor, his face a mask of disdain.
"They're here," he announced, his voice clear and sharp. "I can feel the energy of the fragments. Pathetic. Did you think you could hide in this forgotten place?"
We crouched behind a submerged column, hearts pounding.
"The plan," I whispered to the group. "We lure him to the center."
That's when Vespera, ever so helpful, decided to make the first move. She rose from the water, her air bubble popping with a pop.
"Hello, handsome elf!" she shouted, waving. "Come play with us?"
Kaelen stopped, his eyes narrowing. "The succubus. Capture her."
Armed elves began descending toward the water.
"Vespera, no!" I yelled, but it was too late.
Elara, trying to help, raised her staff to cast an ice spell. "I'll freeze the surface!" she announced.
The spell went off—a weak burst of frost that froze an area the size of a dinner plate near the elves. Then she collapsed into the water, half-conscious. "Mana..." she yawned, her air bubble faltering. I pulled her up, struggling to keep her breathing.
Liriel, seeing the chaos, decided it was time for a dramatic entrance. "Insolent mortals!" she declared, raising her hands. "Behold divine power!"
A golden light flooded the chamber, blinding everyone for a moment. It was impressive. For a second, I thought she had finally done something right.
Then the light focused on the black stone altar… and activated it.
The altar began to glow with a sinister light, and the statues of sea creatures came to life, their stone eyes burning red. They turned toward us—and the elves.
"What have you done?" Kaelen shouted, horrified.
"I… purified the evil altar!" Liriel declared proudly.
"You activated the temple guardians, you idiot!" he roared.
The statues began to move, advancing toward everyone in the chamber. The ambush plan had gone completely underwater—literally.
In the chaos, Sylva and Gorr emerged from the shadows, their arrows and spears striking the unsuspecting elves. Gorr fought with animal ferocity, while Sylva shot with deadly precision.
Kaelen, ignoring the statues, leapt toward me, his sword gleaming. "The fragments, human! Hand them over!"
I pushed Elara behind a column and drew my borrowed sword, feeling the useless weight of the metal against the perfectly forged elven blade.
Then the fragments in my backpack exploded in light. A sharp pain pierced through my body, and a voice that wasn't mine whispered in my mind: "USE US."
Kaelen stopped, his eyes widening with greed. "You feel it, don't you? They want to be used! Give yourself to them!"
I resisted, fighting the pain and temptation. "No..."
Vespera, seeing my struggle, swam toward Kaelen and tried her charm. "Hey, focus on what's important, handsome!" she sang.
Kaelen hesitated for a fraction of a second. It was enough. An arrow from Sylva struck his arm, making him roar in pain and rage.
Gorr, at that moment, was fighting a statue of a sea serpent. With a roar, he shoved it back, making it collapse over two elves.
Chaos was total. Statues attacking everyone, elves fighting hunters, our party just trying not to die.
Liriel, trying to fix her mess, cast another spell at the altar. "Deactivation!"
This time, the light was white and pure. The altar stopped glowing, and the statues crumbled, turning back into inert stone.
In the sudden silence, only the groans of the wounded could be heard. Kaelen, injured, retreated toward the passage with his surviving elves. "This isn't over, Strippers!" he shouted before disappearing into the darkness.
Sylva and Gorr approached, breathing heavily.
"Well, that was a disaster," Sylva summarized, wiping the blood from her blade. "But at least they retreated."
Gorr looked at me, then at the fragments still glowing faintly in my backpack, and finally at Liriel. "You're the worst allies I've ever had. But... effective."
Elara was conscious, trembling. Vespera was helping her stand.
"We got a fragment," Gorr said, pointing to a small black rhombus that had fallen from the altar during the chaos. He picked it up. "As agreed."
I didn't have the energy to argue.
Sylva looked toward the passage Kaelen had fled through. "He'll be back. Stronger. We need to move."
I swam to the edge of the platform and climbed out, exhausted, soaked, and heavy-hearted. We had survived, but the pact with the hunters was as unstable as the ice Elara had created. And the fragments… they were calling to me. And now I knew I could hear them.
Liriel approached, her pride slightly shaken. "I... suppose I overdid the purification a bit."
Vespera just laughed, wringing water from her hair. "It was fun! I almost got crushed by an octopus statue!"
I looked at the group—the exhausted mage, the chaotic succubus, the irresponsible goddess, and me, the ordinary guy stuck in the middle of it all, with a backpack full of problems.
The pact with the hunters had bought us some time. But the price was yet to come. And I feared that, when the bill arrived, we wouldn't be able to pay it.