Neverending Nights

Found myself inspired, with LOG2 coming out very soon to move the story forward, and here’s what I can up with…

Part 01
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05
Part 06
Part 07
Part 08
Part 09
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16

Endless gears seemed to swirl and drift through the black void of space. Some connected, some disjointed, some spinning out of control, some rusted and broken.

Then there was a voice, “What is happening? A collective dream? Oh, I know you. I know what you seek.
Look for me down below, and I might help you.”

Blaz’tik sat up, his three hearts pounding furiously in his chest. This was the second time now, that he had found a small place to rest in the dungeon and been transported to the unusual gear-dream, for lack of a better word. It was now Blaz’tik regretted testing his theory if it had been a teleporter or an incinerator as Tawmis suggested, for he had been teleported away from the others – and none of the others seemed to have followed him through.

Not that he blamed them. They probably thought he had been reduced to ash by the shimmering lights.

That’s when the voice from the dream spoke into Blaz’tik’s mind yet again. “I can’t hear you but I know you can hear me. I tried to talk to the other people that have been here before you. They were criminals but I sense that you I can trust.”

Blaz’tik stumbled backwards, “The –tic!- voice from my dream! How are you speaking to me?”

Blaz’tik waited for answer, and finally heaved a sigh of relief, assuming his imagination was getting the best of him, when suddenly he heard it again, “Are you still there? I know a way out but I can’t make it there by myself. We need to work together. Descend towards the bottom of the mountain. We can meet there.”

Blaz’tik paled, even for an insectoid who was already nearly white. “I can hear you, but you can’t seem to hear me?”

He waited, and once again there was silence. Now more than ever, Blaz’tik felt very alone, and yet felt as if there were eyes now watching his every move. The very stone itself was alive, as he had once said, and it was somehow watching him – speaking to him.

Could the voice be the one he thought it to be? But that would be impossible. He was cast down here long, long ago. The stories of his imprisonment and creation, as well as his damnation, were all fabricated tales.

Blaz’tik moved cautiously through Grimrock, using his invisibility spell, now that he had the components for it, when needed, bypassing untold horrors that slithered around, waiting for something to feed upon. He found a small room with a steel door and locked himself inside of it to rest.

Once again as he drifted to sleep, space and time seemed to bend. Blackness swirled, mixed with crimson red, and once again, the spinning gears returned to his dream, preceding the arrival of the mysterious voice.

“I watched this dungeon being built. But they took it away from my people and twisted it. Filled it with traps and riddles. That is not how this place was meant to be. They make all the gates open and cause the traps to spring. It would be simple for them to stop us. Why will they not do it? Are we walking into another trap of theirs? Be careful. You are not the only ones held prisoner here. I, too, was cast down an abyss. I was bound with shackles. They keep all the machinery and mechanisms working in the dungeon.
All but one that sits in the tunnels below. It needs to be repaired so we can leave this place. Only a little bit further. You need to be careful. They live here and they will want to stop you. They fear you might undo their vision. The broken mechanism controls the Portal. From there we can escape. I am still too weak to move but I am glad you are making progress. I need to gather my strength so we can leave together. We can leave together. Leave together. Leave. Together.”

Blaz’tik awoke, once more, with his three hearts beating furiously.

“It’s –tic!- him,” Blaz’tik muttered. “It’s really him. The Undying One is real.”

Elsewhere in the dungeon…

Coy kneeled down, his Ratling eyes always looking for things to salvage. He picked up a small pouch and examined it, “Look,” he said, holding it up to the others.

“So you found a bag,” Tawmis muttered. “Does it have a magic key that gets us out of this place?”

“I know this magic bag,” Coy said, his nose twitching.

“Know it?” Tawmis asked.

“Yes, as in I gave it to the mage,” Coy said. He opened the bag and revealed flecks of grounded acorns. “By the looks of it, he may have passed through here.”

“So that means he wasn’t incinerated,” Taren said, with a nodding approval. “It will be good if we can find him again.”

“Preferably in one piece,” Tawmis added. “Can you tell which way he went?”

“By the looks of it,” Coy brushed the ground with his hand and looked a little down the hall where he saw a large, seared piece of flesh, “I’d say he went that way after melting the skin off whatever that thing was.”

Silvertan kneeled down, “An ice lizard,” he said, pulling back some of its burned flesh and seeing some of the ice blue scales, “or what’s left of it. I am surprised that our insectoid friend was able to use such a powerful spell,” Silvertan hissed. “He didn’t strike me as someone capable of such powerful magic.”

“It’s Grimrock,” Coy replied. “The magic flowing through the entire mountain that keeps the torches alive, the life stones, all of it is channeling into him, charging him like a battery.” The Ratling paused, “Soon he will be casting very powerful magic – until it either burns his body out, or corrupts him and he becomes one of the horrors that haunts these halls forever.”

“That’s,” Tawmis paused, “a cheery thought.”

___________________________________________________________________________
Tawmis Sanarius – Human (Son of Contar Stoneskull and Yennica Whitefeather) – Warrior
Taren Bloodhorn – Minotaur – Warrior
Blaz’tik – Insectoid – Mage
Silvertan – Lizardman – Rogue
Coy – Ratling from the Isle of Nex – Rogue

Part 01
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05
Part 06
Part 07
Part 08
Part 09
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Tawmis jumped around the corner of the wall, a blast of searing flame right behind him. He quickly pressed himself against the wall, panting heavily. “What is that thing?”

“Would it be a good time to mention,” Silvertan hissed, peering around the corner, staring at the floating, flaming, armored figure, then back to Tawmis, “that the wizard would know what it is called?”

Tawmis stared at Silvertan with his own searing gaze. “No,” Tawmis finally said. “It would not be a good time to mention that. I realize that Blaz got either incinerated or teleported away. And I do realize that it would be useful to have Blaz here to deal with whatever that thing is over there.”

Taren, the minotaur, stood next to Tawmis, having been too slow to escape the blast, and suffered some small burns. “Whatever it is,” Taren snarled, his nostrils flaring, “it does not want us to pass in that general direction.”

“We could try going around it,” Silvertan mentioned.

“Great idea,” Tawmis spat, “except this is the only way forward. Every other way lead to a dead end or back up a level. If we want to get to the bottom of this cursed dungeon, we need to find a way around that thing – whatever it is.”

Another flaming blast shot through the tunnel, striking the far wall, sending uncomfortable waves of heat around them.

“What do we do if that thing decides to come down this tunnel?” Silvertan hissed.

“My first plan?” Tawmis said, smiling coyly. “I was going to throw you on it. You know, since you’re cold blooded. Figured you might cancel one another out.”

“Your sense of humor eludes me,” Silvertan returned with a distained look. The lizard-man looked around and hissed, “Where’s the Ratling? The damn Ratling’s gone! I knew we couldn’t trust him! He’s scattered! He’s left us! Probably knew this was a trap! He probably knew a way out of here!”

“We will deal with that later,” Tawmis growled.

“Deal with it later? We lost the mage already, and now the Ratling is gone too!” Silvertan growled.

“You were the one that wanted to be thrown in this dungeon alone,” Taren reminded Silvertan. “Was that not your plan originally?”

Silvertan now shot the massive minotaur a disgruntle look, but quickly looked away, unable to maintain the courage to lock eyes with the massive beast. “That may have been my plan originally, yes,” Silvertan admitted, “but I see now I underestimated the horrors of Grimrock. So yes, it may have been my plan, and yes I was wrong. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Son of a,” Tawmis whispered.

“What? Is that not a good enough apology?” Silvertan growled.

“No,” Tawmis replied, “look.”

Silvertan peeked around the corner cautiously, and much to his surprise, saw Coy, the Ratling sneaking up on the fiery creature, dagger drawn.

“How did he get over there?” Silvertan instantly asked.

“Does it matter?” Tawmis growled. “We need to keep that thing occupied so it doesn’t notice that Coy’s behind it.”

Tawmis jumped into the tunnel and began taunting the fiery creature, who unleashed another blast. Tawmis dove out of the way again, but once more the blast hit the far wall, sending waves of uncomfortable heat as it exploded.

Coy drove his dagger deep into the fiery creature’s back – hoping, despite having no physical body that he could sever whatever tie it had to life. The armor began to shake and Coy released the dagger and ran for cover, just in time as it exploded.

Tawmis quickly stood and ran over to Coy to help put out some of the fires that had ignited on Coy’s fur from the exploding embers. Silvertan ran over next, “How did you get behind that thing, Ratling?”

“I found a small tunnel, one that perhaps myself, and you,” he pointed to Silvertan, “could have fit through, because of bodies; our bones are more flexible. But there’s no way the human, and especially the minotaur were going to fit. I could have kept going, leaving you three behind – but I won’t survive down here without your help, so I knew I had to come back and help.”

Silvertan wanted to say something – find a way to accuse the Ratling of something – he still did not trust the Ratling – but there was nothing he could say that would have put the Ratling in bad light. His actions were, if anything, heroic.

Silvertan extended his hand to the Ratling and helped him stand. “It was either brave or foolish taking a chance that a backstab was going to destroy that thing. I don’t suppose you found any trace of the mage in this tunnel?” Silvertan hissed.

“I’m afraid not,” Coy replied.

Elsewhere, within the Dungeon, Blaz’tik suddenly woke up.

“That –tic!- was certainly a weird dream,” he said, his mandibles clicking. In his dream he had heard the voice of an unknown creature beckoning him forward. All he could remember from the dream was the voice… and gears… so many gears…

Tawmis Sanarius – Human (Son of Contar Stoneskull and Yennica Whitefeather) – Warrior
Taren Bloodhorn – Minotaur – Warrior
Blaz’tik – Insectoid – Mage
Silvertan – Lizardman – Rogue
Coy – Ratling from the Isle of Nex – Rogue

For the one or two of you who have stumbled upon this site, with no idea what you’re reading… or if you are the one or two, who was bored beyond reason at 3am, unable to sleep and read my previous Legend of Grimrock fan pieces, and are quite surprised that after (over!) a year, I have added another one – and you want to brush up on the previous stories – here’s links to them!

Part 01
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05
Part 06
Part 07
Part 08
Part 09
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14

“Honestly!” Tawmis cursed. “Who does this?”

“I –tic- would assume that the Goromorgs,” Blaz’tik began to explain.

“I don’t care!” Tawmis interrupted him. “It was a rhetorical question!” Tawmis stared at the shimmering lights in front of him. This was the first time they had come across something like this. Not trusting magic, he had thrown a stone into it – only to discover it vanished. It had either incinerated the stone, or Blaz’tik seemed to believe it teleported the stone somewhere. Tawmis was in no mood to find out if Blaz’tik was wrong, and that the stone had, in fact, been incinerated.

Tawmis took a step forward and stepped on the tile. All the shimmering lights around him shifted, changing the path that was once clear to him. “Who does this?” Tawmis repeated.

Blaz’tik was about to continue explaining his answer, but a firm hand from Taren Bloodhorn, the minotaur, placed on the insectoid’s shoulder, told the young wizard not to utter a single word as to who possibly created this death trap.

“There’s a button on the wall to the right,” Coy, the Ratling pointed out. The problem was, there was no clear path to that button at the moment. All the tiles around it had the shimmering lights. Tawmis took another stone from his pouch and threw it with all his might to see if it would pass through the shimmering light fast enough to hit the button the wall. The shimmering lights, naturally, devoured the stone as soon as it passed into it. “I hate magic,” Tawmis muttered beneath his breath. Tawmis stood rigid on the tile and looked back, “All right, Blaz, where do I go from here?”

“Judging by the pattern –tic- in which the lights moved, when you stepped forward, -tic- I would say that your best option is left,” Blaz’tik replied. After a moment, he amended, “Although, -tic- a step back might also fit the pattern I believe I am seeing.”

“Which is it, Blaz?” Tawmis yelled.

Blaz’tik floundered, “It could –tic- be either one.”

“Have I mentioned how much I hate magic,” Tawmis muttered to no one in particular.

Blaz’tik was, once again, about to answer Tawmis’ comment, but the minotaur’s hand had gone from the insectoid’s shoulder to his mandible mouth. The insectoid nodded his understanding and whispered, once Taren had removed his hand, “If he hates magic so much, why did he volunteer to go into that room before the rest of us?”

“Because, despite his hatred of magic,” Taren explained, “and despite the façade he places up, Tawmis is truly a kind and generous heart. There’s no way he would allow any of us to risk our lives by his command, unless he was to try it first.”

Tawmis lifted his foot to step to the left and just inches before stepping on the tile – he stopped. He looked at the tile behind him. He turned and stepped on the tile behind him, hoping that changing his initial gut feeling was not going to get him incinerated. He waited for the pain but it never came.

“Interesting,” Blaz’tik said, his mandibles clacking with excitement. The shimmering lights had shifted yet again. “What –tic!- made you take the step back rather than go to the left?”

“Because,” Tawmis said, taking in a deep breath. “To the left would have gotten me to the button faster. I suspect the mages were counting on people thinking with that kind of mentality. So I took a step back, which seems the least logical when it comes to progress.”

Blaz’tik studied the new formation and path of lights. Though there had only been nine tiles – three across, three wide – it had taken nearly two hours of Blaz’tik analyzing the pattern before he had successfully managed to direct – with often times, Tawmis being forced to make a choice between two options – to the button, which opened the door on the far end, to actually reaching the door. Once Tawmis made it to the door, there was another tile that disabled the shimmering lights, allowing the rest of them to safely pass through the room. (Though Blaz’tik complained that he would have liked to have known if the stone had been disintegrated or if it had been teleported).

Blaz’tik had carefully navigated them through a number of magical traps, until they came to a room with one of the shimmering lights in the middle, with nowhere else to go. “We must have missed something,” Tawmis said as he began marching back. “A secret passage. A doorway. Something.”

“I’m fairly certain the lizard or I would have spotted something,” Coy said, tilting his head to Silvertan who was leaning against the wall.

“We go back and double check,” Tawmis demanded. “We look again.”

While they discussed matters, Blaz’tik edged towards the shimmering light. He reached his insectoid arm within the light and felt it tingle. He felt the sensation run down his arm, to his shoulder, to his chest, to his entire body.

Tawmis turned towards where he had last seen Blaz’tik and asked, “Is there any way that magic might have – wait. Where’s Blaz? Where did Blaz go?”

Coy turned his Ratling head, his whiskers twitching, “He was here – just a moment ago! He was here.”

Tawmis looked at the shimmering light in the center and whispered, “Oh no…”

Elsewhere in Grimrock, Blaz’tik felt his body tingle again.

He took a deep breath, as if he had been holding his breath underwater and looked around. “Well, that –tic!- was a most interesting sensation. Like being –tic!- torn apart and put back together again in –tic!- mere seconds! So it would seem –tic!- those shimmering lights are indeed teleporters. Now the question –tic!- begs to wonder, where am I now?”

Blaz’tik heard a hissing sound behind him and quickly spun around. His eyes, if they could have, would have widened in fear at the sight behind him. What appeared to be an enormous lizard, whose skin was ice blue. Cold misty air, came out of its nostrils, like smoke, wafting into the air.

“Oh my,” Blaz’tik stammered as he reached for his spell components. He threw the sandalwood shavings into the air, squished the forioan mushrooms between his fingers, which gave off a burning sensation, then with his fingers, gestured, making a triangle, followed two symbols running parallel, and finally raised his hands over his head. He had never done such a powerful spell before, and he wasn’t sure if he had done it right – and for a brief moment thought his life was over – until he felt the flame building between his fingers, and an enormous fireball launched from his hands, striking the lizard with so much force that it sent it – and him – flying back.

He quickly scrambled to his feet, expecting the lizard to charge him, and was quite surprised when he saw its charred remains lying there, unmoving. “Well,” Blaz’tik said, “I hope –tic!- Silvertan isn’t upset I have killed one of his descendants!”

Blaz’tik began moving through the dungeon, moving slowly, cautiously, unsure what else he would encounter. While he was glad to see he was right – that the shimmering light had been a teleportation device and not a disintegrator – he wasn’t all that thrilled with the idea of being separated from the others.

TO BE CONTINUED?

Tawmis Sanarius – Human (Son of Contar Stoneskull and Yennica Whitefeather) – Warrior
Taren Bloodhorn – Minotaur – Warrior
Blaz’tik – Insectoid – Mage
Silvertan – Lizardman – Rogue
Coy – Ratling from the Isle of Nex – Rogue

For the one or two of you who have stumbled upon this site, with no idea what you’re reading… or if you are the one or two, who was bored beyond reason at 3am, unable to sleep and read my previous Legend of Grimrock fan pieces, and are quite surprised that after (over!) a year, I have added another one – and you want to brush up on the previous stories – here’s links to them!

Part 01
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05
Part 06
Part 07
Part 08
Part 09
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13

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“I just don’t think we should trust him,” Silvertan hissed between his serpent lips.

“Trust him?” Tawmis chuckled. “Are you not the one that tried to steal from a guard and got all of us – with the exception of you, Blaz – into this mess?”

Silvertan shrugged. “I didn’t ask for any of you to try and assist me,” he replied, his scales shimmering in Grimrock’s flickering torch light.

“Granted,” Tawmis amended, “that rotund guard, Boris lied about what he had caught us doing that night, to save face, since he wasn’t supposed to be in The Fallen Star – a place of… questionable reputation with the ladies of entertainment.” (1)

“I joined –tic!- the fray after you had –tic!- been knocked out from behind,” Blaz’tik reminded Tawmis.

“As I told you before,” Silvertan’s reptilian eyes focused on Tawmis, “I had every intention of being thrown down here alone. I could have survived down here alone. I live in the shadows.”

Taren shook his mighty, minotaur head. “You have seen the horrors that are down here, lizard. Do you truly believe that cowering in the shadows, waiting for these things to pass would have allowed you to survive alone? I have seen the horrors of the undead, who do not see with human eyes. Instead, they see with a hatred for the living. No amount of shadows could have hid you from them.”

“Perhaps,” Silvertan said, the ‘s’ making a slithering sound, “you are correct, brute. Perhaps I would not have survived alone down here, as I thought I might have. Perhaps I believed too much in my own skills, but this isn’t about me. This is about that rat, and how we should not trust him. His name is Coy, for crying out loud. He’s not even hiding the fact that his very name is a symbol of deception!”

“Then perhaps we should be thankful that he’s not hiding what his name means,” Tawmis shrugged as he held the torchlight in front of him. “Speaking of that Ratling, how far ahead did he go and search for us anyway?”

“He’s probably bringing back an army of some horrors to kill us,” Silvertan muttered. “Or there’s more of his kind down here, and he’s leading us into an ambush.”

“You’re not the trusting sort, I take it,” Tawmis finally said, feeling exasperated by Silvertain’s constant barrage and notions of why the Ratling was not to be trusted.

“I am not the foolish sort,” Silvertan corrected. He paused for a long moment, and finally amended, “And I may have some issues with trust as well.”

“Some?” Tawmis replied, sarcastically.

“I just don’t think it’s a wise idea to trust strangers down here,” Silvertan hammered on.

“Blaz,” Silvertan turned to the insectoid. “Isn’t there any kind of magic that you can do to see if the Ratling is lying to us? A Detect Lie or Detect Evil kind of spell?”

Blaz’tik looked at Silvertan. “Those sound –tic!- like rather silly spell names. There is one that’s similar to this ‘detect lie’ you mentioned, but it’s called Detellius.”

“That’s excellent,” Silvertan hissed. “Can you cast it on the filthy Ratling next time he shows up? I’d like to ask him a few things to see if he’s telling the truth.”

“I would love to cast such –tic!- a spell, however,” Blaz’tik explained, holding up his insect like arms, “I have none of the –tic!- spell components that are needed.”

“Naturally,” Silvertan sighed.

“What spell components do you need, insect?” came Coy’s voice, directly behind Silvertan who screeched out and slammed his own body against the wall.

“How did you get behind us?” Silvertan spat. “You were trying to backstab me, weren’t you?”

“With what,” Coy asked, with a wide smile. “My teeth? I have no weapon, if you haven’t noticed. However, much like my ‘brethren’ as you’re so fond of saying, I am a pack rat, and do have some components that might be useful to a mage. I have a pouch of sandalwood shavings, forioan mushrooms, two whistle leaves, and a small pouch of grounded herder spores.”

“Those –tic!- components,” Blaz’tik said, his insect eyes somehow wider with excitement, “could indeed –tic!- prove very useful!”

“They’re all yours,” Coy said, removing his belt and pouches and handing them over to Blaz’tik.

Tawmis looked at Silvertan and whispered, “Do you trust him now?”

“Even less,” Silvertan replied. “Even less.”

TO BE CONTINUED?

(1) See the very first post of the story! Boris, the guard Silvertan had tried to rob, did indeed like to the king and say that Tawmis, Taren and Silvertan had been caught trying to rob Houralus Survine, one of the Royal Men of Curvia (which was the rich side of town)

Tawmis Sanarius – Human (Son of Contar Stoneskull and Yennica Whitefeather)
Taren Bloodhorn – Minotaur
Blaz’tik – Insectoid
Silvertan – Lizardman
Coy – Ratling from the Isle of Nex

With the announcement of Grimlock 2, and the reveal about the Ratlings – how could I not return and tie my story to it all? It’s posted on the Legend of Grimrock forum here! Please enjoy! Comment! Good, bad, what you liked, disliked, whatever! I love comments!
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For the one or two of you who have stumbled upon this site, with no idea what you’re reading… or if you are the one or two, who was bored beyond reason at 3am, unable to sleep and read my previous Legend of Grimrock fan pieces, and are quite surprised that after (over!) a year, I have added another one – and you want to brush up on the previous stories – here’s links to them!

Part 01
Part 02
Part 03
Part 04
Part 05
Part 06
Part 07
Part 08
Part 09
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
======================

“The gods favor you,” Silvertan said, walking along side Tawmis Sanarius. “You were dead.”

“I am thankful, perhaps, that the gods, as you say, favored me,” Tawmis replied, casting a side glance at the humanoid lizard, whose silver scales reflected against the torchlight. “I am more thankful that my dearest, and only friend, refused to give up on me.”

“What did you see,” Silvertan asked, “when you were dead?”

“Darkness,” Tawmis shrugged. “I don’t remember seeing anything. I remember closing my eyes, seeing darkness – then feeling this sensation going through my body – and my eyes suddenly saw a light blue – that was all I could see. Light blue. Then,” Tawmis paused, “I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry at first. I couldn’t see anything. It looked like I was peering through a painted canvas that had had all of its colors smeared.”

“Comforting,” Silvertan sighed, “that there is nothing after death.”

“Or,” Blaz’tik’s insect like clicking interjected, “our mortal minds cannot –tic!- conceive what is there beyond death. We have no way –tic!- of comprehending what is beyond. Most believe –tic!- that our souls look just as we do, and –tic!- we ascend to some heaven. But what if that is not the case? What if –tic!- we are forms of energy that ascend?”

Taren shook his large minotaur head. “No. After death, we ascend to an arena, in which we fight, day in and day out, until we are worthy to be reborn, and returned to this world.”

“That’s all you minotaurs believe,” Silvertan sighed. “Everything is resolved by fighting.”

“Strength and honor,” the Minotaur corrected. “A warrior who kills dishonorably, should perish quickly for his actions. Your enemy deserves an equal chance at combat. If you disarm your enemy and they insist on combat still, you throw your weapons aside and fight them hand to hand.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Silvertan spat.

Tawmis saw Taren’s nostrils flare. “Listen, we all come from different walks of life, with different beliefs. Let’s not find out what happens when we die until we get out of this cursed dungeon?”

“I can help you,” hissed an unknown voice.

Tawmis reached for his sword that was not there. His eyes peered into the darkness, where he saw two, red eyes peering back at him from the shadows. Tawmis’ eyes adjusted to the darkness, and saw that there was a prison there, with a hunched over humanoid figure.

Tawmis gazed for a long moment, unsure of what he was seeing. “What are you?”

“I am a Ratling,” the creature responded. A scar over its left eye, and sharp, pointy buckteeth in the front clearly looked like a rat. Its fur was tannish-brown, it’s ears had nicks in it, having seen plenty of combat.

“Ratling?” Tawmis asked. “Why have I never heard of such a thing? Is it the damn magic in this dungeon that shaped you to be large and intelligent? The way it has shaped those cursed snails we keep running into everywhere?”

“No,” the Ratling answered. “I come from the Northern Realms, the Isle of Nex.”

“The Isle of Nex,” Taren answered. “I have heard of it, and your people. You are raiders, for the most part. Scavengers, like your rat brethren.”

“Not all of us are like that,” the Ratling hissed. “Although we are quite skilled at scavenging.”

“How did you –tic!- end up in that cell, that far down in –tic!- the dungeon?” Blaz’tik asked.

“I stumbled upon beasts known as scavengers,” the Ratling began to explain.

“Well isn’t that ironic,” Silvertan muttered beneath his breath.

The Ratling heard, but continued on, as if he hadn’t. “Once harmless mites that came into this dungeon by dirt and dwelling in the hair of prisoners thrown down here – as you mentioned with the snails, being exposed to the mysticism of Grimrock transformed them into the ravenous swarm! Well, I was desperate for food and had snuck into their lair and stolen some of their larva, I was going to feast on when I was discovered. They chased me, and my only choice was to slam this gate behind me, since they were too large to fit between the bars. Little did I know, in my panic, that it would lock.”

“And you want us to let you out?” Tawmis asked. “And what? Stab us in the back?”

“No,” the Ratling explained. “I would be indebted to you. I know alone, I will not get out of here alive. With the rest of you, I have a chance.”

Tawmis looked at Taren, who shrugged, “We can’t let him starve in there.”

“You just said his people were raiders,” Tawmis countered, surprised by Taren’s response.

“What would you do if you found me in a prison and did not know me for who I am?” Taren asked.

“Really? You’re going to get all deep and philosophical with me?” Tawmis shook his head and turned to Silvertan. “Get the lock undone. And be quick. If he’s telling the truth and he encountered these scavenger things, I don’t want to be around if they come back.” Tawmis paused, and turned to the Ratling as Silvertan began working on the lock. “What’s your name?”

“Coy,” the Ratling answered. “My name is Coy.”

“Isn’t that ironic,” Silvertan muttered beneath his breath again, as he opened the chamber.

“Welcome to the party, Coy,” Tawmis smiled.

_____________________________________________________________________
Tawmis Sanarius – Human (Son of Contar Stoneskull and Yennica Whitefeather)
Taren Bloodhorn – Minotaur
Blaz’tik – Insectoid
Silvertan – Lizardman
Coy – Ratling from the Isle of Nex