Mark of the Fool

“Holy Heroes, it’s good to have you back with us.” The priest bowed to Cedric, Drestra and Hart. “Though…I must say, your presence here is a little irregular.”

The holy man adjusted his spectacles and peered at the three Heroes as though they were obscured in fog. “I see you are without your entourage and the Holy Saint this evening, has something dire befallen them? As out of the way as the Traveller’s Cave is, it’s rare that news of the goings on in the wider realm reaches us.”

Armour clinked nearby as soldiers leaned in.

Drestra’s eyes flicked toward them. There were six standing at attention on either side of the room; she mentally calculated about three paces separating them from her.

‘Look at how quickly things have changed. I would have never considered checking the distance between me and the kingdom’s soldiers before.’ She let out a tense breath. ‘And it never would’ve occurred to me that they might be here to do someone’s secret bidding, not help and ‘protect’ us.’

It was easy to suspect the worst after the revelations about dungeon cores, but also hard to reconcile since they were now in the presence of Uldar’s priests and these dutiful Thameish soldiers.

Cedric, Drestra and Hart had arrived at the Cave of the Traveller late in the evening and found it significantly changed. In many ways, it was unrecognisable. Where there once was an unassuming hole in the side of a hill in the middle of the Forest of Coille, now a small fortress of wood, earth and stone stood. Some three hundred or so yards of vegetation had been cleared away from the cave mouth, the trees were milled and the lumber used to erect an intimidating log wall that stretched around the hill.

A trench—lined with rows of wooden stakes sharp enough to pierce Ravener-spawn, cultists or any other enemy seeking entrance to the cave—lay in front of it. Two watchtowers soared above either side of the solid gates, each well-staffed by sharp-eyed guards who had immediately ordered the barriers be opened when the three Heroes had appeared. Once inside, the Chosen, Sage and Champion were greeted by soldiers and priests who fawned over them in a way so servile that Drestra longed to be away from their attention.

The camp—awash with tents, wooden barracks and guardhouses—had exploded into activity when word spread of the Heroes surprise arrival, and by the time they had been escorted to the fortified office beside the Cave, the head priest was back at his desk still in a nightshirt hidden under a colourful robe.

Even as he spoke, the expression on his sleep-creased face hinted at…something like worship.

‘All this attention,’ the Sage thought. ‘But what’s behind it? Are you serving us? Or are you puppeting us?’ She glanced up at the dark ceiling. ‘Or are you puppets too? And what happens if your strings are cut?’

The thought of fighting people they were supposed to protect—people who’d helped them before and seemed to have all of their hopes pinned on them—sent a pang through her.

‘Killing our own people isn’t what mother and our kin sent me to do when I was Marked,’ she thought. ‘I’ll do it if I have to, but I’d rather it didn’t come to that.’

“Well, we ain’t got too much news fer yous,” Cedric replied to the priest, while Drestra marvelled at how smoothly he’d lied. Only a slight stiffness in tone hinted at any tension, and if they didn’t spend so much time around each other, she never would have noticed. “We had t’meet up wit’ the Generasians 'cause some trouble cropped up wit’ them bloody cultists that needed sortin’, now we gotta check the Cave just in case.”

Another clink.

Drestra’s eyes flicked back to the guards. Two exchanged glances.

‘Are you planning something?’ She wondered. ‘Is there a conspiracy?’

“Ah, the Generasians.” The priest didn’t hide his displeasure. “Fancy folk who think they’re too good to let our church aid them. Are they even of any help? As I said, we get very little news here, Holy Heroes.”

“Yeah, you could say they’re helping,” Hart’s voice was smooth.

“Well, at least there’s that,” the priest’s tone was less than enthusiastic. “But why do you have to check the cave? We’ve been briefed on the cultist threat, I understood that their activities were mostly confined to the coast.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Hart said. “We want to make sure they don’t use some portal out there in the world—one we might’ve missed—to start ferrying demons into Thameland without us noticing… ‘til it’s too late.”

“What!” The priest paled. “They can do that?”

“They’re bringing demons from elsewhere in the world and from other planes,” Drestra said. “We wouldn’t want them using a portal and overwhelming us with their armies. So we thought we should be cautious and check the Cave to see if there are any portals we missed. As long as we know what’s on the other side of them we’ll be fine.”

“So yeah, was the entire Cave complex explored yet, or could there be something down there that’s not been accounted for?” Hart watched for the alarmed priest’s reaction.

The man frowned. “Not all of it, admittedly. It travels deep into the earth beneath the portal chamber. There are numerous side tunnels down there that might be miles long.”

Drestra and Hart looked at each other.

“We were surveying it, but found monsters and their young settled in different areas down there—not Ravener-spawn mind you—and some caves narrowed the deeper we went, so we couldn’t chance going further. They need the attention of experienced members of the delver’s guild to get through them,” he explained. “So until that can be arranged, we gated off the deeper tunnels and posted soldiers at their entrances. You, of course, are welcome to have a look if you need to.”

He swallowed. “Cultists, by Uldar!”

“Aye, we’ll get down there nice an’ quick then an’ get things all surveyed out fer yous,” Cedric assured him.

“That would be a relief.” The priest looked at the guards. “We're all at your disposal, of course. Captain, please take your guards and guide Uldar’s most welcomed into the lower tunnels.”

“Yes, sir!” the guard captain snapped to attention. “Right this way, Holy Heroes.”

###

“As you can see, we've added some fortifications.” A guard indicated as they passed through a thick wooden gate. “If Ravener-spawn want this place, they’ll have to bleed for it.”

“Things look a lot different than when we were here last,” Drestra’s voice crackled.

The ‘temple chamber’s’ high ceiling loomed above, lit by a sky-portal hovering in the middle of the room. Wherever the sky was, it was night there: moonlight poured through the portal, pooling on the temple floor. The air filling the space was fresh and clean, leaving those in it feeling refreshed and surprisingly comforted.

What wasn’t comforting was what stood on the two pedestals by the large, stone doors at the back of the chamber. Statues in Udar’s likeness had been raised on each pedestal, each smiling down with an air of sweet benevolence.

Drestra took no pleasure in the statues, her jaw hardened behind her veil.

‘What’s hiding behind those smiles?’ She looked away.

A brief inspection of the floor showed all signs of rubble had been long cleared out, leaving the Thameish god’s temple pristine.

As the guards passed by, they paused, clasping their hands in reverence to the statues and bowing their heads before leading the Heroes through the open doors at the back of the chamber and down the stairs to the massive cavern below. Wooden blockades had been built on the wide steps, each guarded by a squad of soldiers wielding crossbows. Ballistas also fortified the winding stairway, each angled upward, positioned to pepper spears or arrow clusters at any invaders foolish enough to charge from the top of the steps.

If any attackers came from outside, they’d pay a high price in blood while they were trying to break through to the central chamber.

“We’re well protected from anything coming from the mouth of the Cave,” one of the guards said. “…by Uldar, we have good defences against anything dropping through the portals, but not extensive enough to repel an entire army. We’ve had to deal with beasts on occasion, but nothing more dangerous than that so far.”

Hart looked at the guard sharply. “Beasts?”

“Oh yes,” another guard spoke up as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Strange creatures: predators I’ve never seen or heard of before. I’m guessing they come from different places all over the world.”

“Holy Heroes, have you heard about the exploration talks?” the guard captain asked.

“Exploration talks?” Drestra said, feeling the strange mana tickling the air as they approached the enormous, portal-filled cavern. “What’s that about?”

“I’ve only heard rumours,” the captain continued. “You know, my pay grade’s not high enough for specifics, but there was a big argument between Baron Arturius—he’s the local bigwig lord, by the way—some of the priests, and certain representatives of the king.”

“Oh, I remember that,” another guard joined in. “There sure was a lotta shouting that night. All kinds of talk about ‘rights to this’, ‘exploration that’, ‘law this’, and so on. Rumours say they want to fund folk to go exploring through the portals, but command wants to wait until the war’s done. No need stirring up new enemies, if we don’t have to.”

“Aye, tha’s all we need, I mean—” Cedric paused. “Oh.”

Drestra stifled a gasp and Hart was silent.

They’d stepped into the immense cavern; the portal chamber. It was now a fortress.

Dozens of portals shone in the air, each leading to a scene of strange wildernesses, burning wastelands, or breathtaking waterscapes. The portals were familiar, but the dozens of fortifications carved into the surrounding stone weren’t.

A scaled-down parapet—patrolled by scores of protectors; archers, priests, and even court wizards deploy

“Is this what it’s like to be in a dungeon?” Peter whispered. “All dark and spooky like this?”

“Oooooo, spooky,” Paul whispered back in a creepy voice. He angled his lamp below his chin, giving himself a ghoulish look. “They’re coming to get you, Peter.”

“Oi, don’t even joke about that,” the other guard said, looking over his shoulder at the tunnel behind them. Beyond Drestra’s forceball light, the passage became a thick wall of endless darkness. “Last thing I want’s for some monster to come sneaking up behind us: Ravener-spawn or not.”

“And that’s how it’s not like being in a dungeon,” the Sage’s voice crackled through the dark, startling both men. “In a dungeon, we’d either be under attack by now, or we would’ve just fended off an attack so Ravener-spawn could surprise us with another one.”

Peter and Paul’s eyes widened.

“Hey, remember when we were arresting folk for brawling, drunkenness and rotten eggs?” Peter asked Paul.

“Oh those were the simple days, weren’t they? Paul said. “None of this endless monster shit.”

Drestra paused, looking at Peter. “Rotten eggs? You arrested someone for rotten eggs?”

“That’s a bit of a story,” he said.

“Then it’ll have to wait,” she said, turning back to the darkness of the tunnel. “Even if this isn’t a dungeon, you said there were monsters down here?”

“Oh, aye, there were monsters,” Paul said. “Or so they said. “Beast-goblins.Andthere were a lot of them.”

“I wonder what they eat down here,” Peter whispered. “Maybe mushrooms, bugs and such.”

“I think they’d like a nice flank off a loud guard.” Paul smirked.

“Then they’ll go for you first.” Peter retorted. “You’re fatter than me. More tender.”

“Shut up you, you’re embarrassing us in front of a bloody Hero,” Paul hissed.

Drestra didn’t mind their talk. The more distracted they were, the more opportunity she had to examine their surroundings for clues…clues they might miss. She just wished she knew what she was looking for.

The tunnel reached into the earth, always curving to the left like it was slowly spiralling downward. The walls were surprisingly smooth and felt like a dungeon in some ways: it didn’t feel hand carved, or naturally worn by the passage of time or water, it looked more like it had been shaped through magic, or even divinity.

“Do you know anything about these tunnels?” the Sage asked.

“Uh, anything specific?” Paul cut off another whispered retort he was about to give Peter.

“Did your commanders say whether or not these caves were natural?”

“There was a bit of talk about that,” Peter said. “Most think the Traveller herself carved them with her power, but others think the wall texture might’ve been from the dungeon that formed here.” He made the sign of Uldar over his chest. “Thank the Traveller that she destroyed the monsters, even in death. If a horde of Silence- spiders attacked Alric—”

“—there’d be no more Alric,” Paul finished. “Lots of people who were fleeing to the ships would’ve been killed too…”

He paused, and Drestra could feel him struggling with something he wanted to say.

“Er, you said you had dealings with the Generasians?” Paul asked. “Did you spend a lot of time down there?”

The Sage frowned, her attention shifting to the two guards, sharpening to a razor’s edge. Slowly, she turned to face them, reptilian eyes narrowing. Tension grew, both guards seemed to notice; their movements tensed as they met her gaze.

‘Are they digging for information?’ she wondered. ‘How much do they know? Are they part of a bigger plot?’

Her mana flared.

‘Are they supposed to be pretending to guide me, but are really here to silence me?’

Drestra counted the steps between her and them, calculating whether she could get a spell off before they lowered their spears. If magic failed…

Her eyes measured the ceiling height.

Too low.

No way for her to—

“Well, it’s probably a long shot, but…” Paul cleared his throat. “But since you’ve met with folk from that big, fancy place…I was wondering if you happened to come across a young Thameish lad by the name of Alex Roth?” He sucked in his gut. “Tall, gangly fella. Likes bad jokes and thinks himself clever.”

Drestra stared at the pair, confused.

“Or a young woman named Theresa Lu,” Peter added. “Dark hair, ferocious look on her face most of the time, like a bear that’s been stung by a nest of bees.”

“Has herself this big, scary, three-headed dog,” Paul jumped back in. “Friendly to most, but he’s a bear-killer. About the size of a pony.”

The Sage continued to stare at them, her jaw dropping behind her veil.

“Oh! Oh! And they’d have a little girl with them.” Peter raised a hand like he was trying to catch the teacher’s attention in church school. “No older than ten…no wait, maybe she’d be twelve by now? By Uldar, has it already been more than a year? In any case, have you met any of them? I figure at least the dog would leave an impression. They’re from our town and—”

“Wait, you’re from Alric?”

“Born and bred, the both of us,” Peter said with pride. “Anyway, that bunch was going—”

Drestra suddenly burst into laughter so hard, both guards jumped a foot.

It had the sound of dry twigs snapping.

‘Oh for the sake of reason, Drestra! Come on, really? A plot? These two? She remembered how they’d reacted in the priest’s office when the Generasians were mentioned. ‘You must be losing your mind. You can’t start jumping at shadows!’

The Sage kept laughing at herself—almost delirious with relief—she doubled over with one hand on a knee, and the other holding her fluttering veil in place.

The two guards were looking at each other in the way folk often do when confronted with a strange and unpredictable creature. They took a few steps back.

“Uh,” Paul cleared his throat. “You uh…you alright there, Holy Sage?”

“I’m fine, forgive me,” she apologised after a few more moments of uncontrollable laughter before she could finally straighten up and wipe tears away. “Apologies, I might’ve caused a cave-in, laughing like that!”

“Oh, this tunnel’s stable, Holy Sage,” Peter said. “It’s just…you know…infested with beast-goblins. A lot of beast-goblins. And maybe a lot of other monsters.”

“And I might’ve attracted them all?” Drestra asked, suddenly feeling light. Giddy, even. To think she’d been frightened at something so simple! “I must apologise again. I should’ve kept more control over myself.”

“Oh, uh well…I guess we all need a good laugh sometimes?” Paul offered, in the sort of gentle tone one might use if they were questioning another’s sanity.

“Yeah, I mean…maybe we just said something that would be a funny joke to someone from Crymlyn Swamp,” Peter suggested. “There’s no accounting for the humour of strangers. Er! Not to say, you’re a stranger, Holy Sage, or anything—”

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Drestra waved her hand, turning back toward the dark tunnel ahead. “And could you hold that thought for a moment?”

“Oh, sure,” Paul elbowed Peter in his ribs, shooting him a hard glare. There was a slight clink of armour against armour. “Did we offend?”

“No, I just need to concentrate,” Drestra said lightly, preparing to chant a spell. “We’re about to be attacked, after all.”

“Wait, what?” both guards asked as one.

Screams were their answer. From around the corner ahead, a horde of beast goblins tore past a jutting wall shrieking and howling like the Ravener itself was behind them. They charged straight for the Sage and guards, eyes wild, and fangs bared, starved for blood and flesh.

They were instead offered their fill of lightning and flame, and the relieved laughter of a half-delirious Hero.

###

“You hear someone laughing?” a guard accompanying the Chosen whispered. “Sounded like a ghost.”

“Maybe it’s the Traveller’s spirit or some other lost soul trapped down here,” the other whispered back. “Oh, Uldar guard our spirits.”

Ahead of them, Cedric fought to keep a straight face realising that there were smaller tunnels connecting the passageways, since the delirious laughter coming from the right, was being made by Drestra’s crackling voice.

‘Be bloody well more believable if it were a ghost,’ he thought, gripping the haft of his morphic weapon. ‘Didn’t think she could even laugh, never mind like that…’

His brow creased.

‘Matter of fact, ain’t it more believable that it’s a bloody ghost? Mimickin’ her bloody voice?’ he thought.

His expression was grim as he offered a silent prayer to Uldar and felt the holy energy spreading over his weapon, sheathing it in divine power as he watched.

‘Callin’ on him don’t feel natural like it used to,’ the Chosen’s spirits were low. ‘At least he’s still lendin’ me his power, even if he’s up t’somethin’.’

Cedric raised his spear and walked cautiously into the dark, poised to strike ghosts or anything else lurking there with his and Uldar’s power.

Hart paused, listening to laughter echoing in the distance. Behind him, the two guards drew their swords and slammed down their visors.

‘Huh,’ the Champion thought. ‘Drestra’s finally gone mad. Well, it was just a matter of time I guess.’

Shrugging, he continued leading his escort into the darkness.

The Sage dusted off her hands while stepping over piles of beast-goblin and agarici bodies. The latter were colossal, lumbering, humanoid-like fungi with shocking power behind their blows: blows that felt like they came from a sledgehammer, but were still no match for Drestra’s own power.

“Well, would you look at that,” Peter lifted his visor, gaping in amazement. “Almost feel sorry for those bloody Ravener-spawn that have to face you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Paul poked one of the smoking mushrooms. “I’m just glad I was behind all that magicy stuff, and not in front of it.”

“It looks like the beast-goblins were feeding on the agarici,” the Sage noted stepping past the last corpse. A glance at one of the mushroom-creature’s sucker shaped ‘mouths’ revealed a scrap of something green clinging to it. “Or maybe it was the other way around.”

“Well, now worms will be feeding on all of them, if we leave them here,” Paul said. “When we get back, we’ll put in a request to have them taken away. The air could turn nasty if we leave them rotting down here.”

“They already stink, ‘can’t imagine how bad it’ll be if we just left ‘em,” Peter’s nostrils flared.

“Let’s move on,” Drestra said, ready for what came, monsters or whatever else they might uncover as they kept going.

“Right you are, Holy Sage,” Peter said, following her down the tunnel, his lantern held high, candlelight dappling the walls.

Irritation flared. That ‘Holy Sage’ business had been irritating even before she’d learned that this whole thing could be built on a foundation of secrets and lies.

Now, it made her want to heave.

Drestra,” she corrected the guard.

“Mm?”

“No need for all that ‘Holy Sage’ business,” she said. “Just call me Drestra.”

The two guards looked taken aback for a moment.

“Alright, Hol—Er, Drestra,” Peter finally said. “After what you just did to those monsters, I’d call you ‘queen’ if that wasn’t probably treason. Is that treason, Paul?”

“How should I know? Paul sounded mildly annoyed. “Anyway, no one’s going to be around to hear you creep out Drestra when you call her ‘queen’, so go right ahead. Call the powerful mage weird names, mate. Just let me step back into the tunnel about a hundred paces or so.”

Drestra gave another crackling chuckle as they walked along. “Oh, that reminds me, I did meet a Theresa Lu with the Generasians and, indeed, I met her boyfriend: Alex Roth, and her big dog Brutus! I haven’t met the little sister, though.”

“Well that’s—Wait, boyfriend? Hah!” Paul chuckled. “Well it finally happened, did it?”

“What finally happened?” Peter asked.

“Oi, what good is a guard who has less eyes than sense,” Paul glared at him. “Those two’ve been making goo-goo eyes at each other for years.”

“Well, Paul, unlike you, I don’t go paying attention to every teenager in town making goo-goo eyes at each other! Now who’s the bloody creep? Maybe I should be stepping a hundred yards away from you. Anyway.” He smiled warmly. “Good for those two. Glad something positive came out of all that mess. Theresa’s mum and dad told us that the four of them went ahead so Alex could reach that fancy magic university. Hah, nice to hear he’s having a good time. He deserves it since he got such a bloody rough birthday gift.”

“Hm?” Drestra cocked her head. “Birthday gift?”

“Yeah,” Paul grunted. “The boy has the worst luck. First there was what happened to his mum and dad. And then the Ravener comes back on his eighteenth birthday, right as he gets his inheritance. Got fired too, but I think that might’ve been his own doing!”

“Oh?’ Drestra frowned. “Fired from wha—”

Her mind ground to a halt.

“Wait… When did you say his birthday was?”

ed from the capital—had been chiselled from the rock running along the spiralling path leading deeper into the earth. Ballistas were strategically positioned, pointing at specific portals. It seemed the soldiers were ready for predators or anything else uninvited that wandered into the cavern.

Yet, what really drew Drestra’s attention wasn’t any fortification, it was an inviting stone shrine—shining with divine light—standing where the Traveller’s body once lay. As the Sage took in the details of the Traveller’s shrine, her senses felt the Cave’s unique mana.

It was comforting, warming and welcoming her, and for—a few peaceful moments, she was lost in it as it pushed away her inner turmoil.

‘God, church, kingdom…’ she thought. ‘All of it feels insignificant here. Ironic, considering this place was once a Saint’s. If only mother and the others could be here…they’d…they’d…’

She frowned.

Why did the Cave’s power have a familiar feel to it? It hadn’t felt like this the last time they were here. What’s changed?

“We built this up good,” a guard interrupted her thoughts, leading them deeper into the earth. “We had to after that forest beast crawled out of a portal. Nasty thing. Killed some good folk, I hear. I wasn’t here at the time, though. Back then, we were still stationed in Alric.” He looked at another guard.

“Right after that, some of us got called to help shore up the Cave’s forces, and we’ve been here ever since. Maybe Command forgot about us, eh?” He punched his companion on the shoulder. “Well, at least it’s an interesting post. Portals are really something to look at.”

Hart was peering into the deep shadows at the bottom of the cavern. “What’s down there?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

###

It was a long trekto the bottom of the cavern and—by the time the Heroes and soldiers finished the trip—light from the portals high above was barely visible. The guards provided illumination from small candles in metal lanterns on their belts, while Cedric and Drestra cast forceballs to brighten the way.

In the glow of flickering flame and magic, they reached one last—extremely well-fortified—guard station. Two dozen soldiers, three priests and a Thameish wizard all garrisoned the station, with several sentries keeping watch on a number of tunnels.

The cavern’s lowest level was honeycombed with passageways going off in all directions into the pitch-black beyond. Most were sealed by heavy gates whose massive hinges were secured in stone, but there were three barricaded so thoroughly, it would take a battering ram at least the size of a mature tree to break them down.

“These are the tunnels we haven’t finished exploring yet,” the guard captain pointed. “Monsters, tight spaces, potential cave-ins, or all three, take your poison.”

“Then that’s where we’ll be lookin’,” Cedric said, eyeing the barricades. “Hmmmm, if there’s potential for a cave-in, we better not all go down the same tunnel.”

“Yeah,” Hart agreed. “If someone gets trapped down there, the others can still help.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Drestra said.

“Oh, but you can’t each go off by yourselves,” one of the guards said. “Let two of us escort each of you.”

The Heroes looked at each other, their faces unreadable.

“Well, can't really see a reason to refuse,” Hart said.

“Aye,” Cedric agreed.

Drestra didn’t answer, letting her silence stand as her agreement. She didn’t want anyone accompanying her, but there was no subtle way to refuse the guards’ offer.

So, in the end, two guards were paired with each Hero and…as misfortune would have it, she got the two chattiest ones.

“Well, if we’re going into the breach together, I suppose we’d best introduce ourselves proper,” one of the guards said. “The name’s Peter.”

The other guard smiled. “And I’m Paul.”