Turning to his companions, he continued, “It would be dishonorable to fight alongside such fine fighters without knowing your names. I am Vorrett. I died slaying an ancient red dragon who was brutalizing my village. Even though I died, I was happy to know I took the damned dragon with me. “

Karacus went next. After introducing himself, he told the tale of his death. ” I was killed defending a caravan that was attacked by raiders. When our commander went down, I rallied our remaining force to hold lines. We did, for a time, anyway. There were just too many of them. But, by Moradin, I took down as many of those beasts as I could before I went.”

When Karacus was done, the rest told their stories. Laveron, the elf who saved him, died defending his homeland from an invading kingdom alongside his kinsman, Tromellus. Tromellus nodded, remembering that battle well. The last to go was Merran, the other human. His story was quite different. He was stabbed in the back while in a duel to avenge the murder of his sister. The way he died angered him, for he didn’t even see the person who had interfered in the one-on-one confrontation.

After all of the stories were told, the dwarf realized that he was in good company. He remembered how great it felt to fight alongside honorable warriors. His gaze went to each of them in turn, that’s when he noticed something strange about Laveron. Each of the other fighters were in full metal armor and wielded longswords. Laveron, however, wore leather armor and brandished a short sword. That was not normal among those in the Abyssal Fields. Plus, he had stabbed an opponent in the back. Thinking that they had a traitor in their midst, Karacus asked him about his unusual equipment.

“Normally,” Laveron responded, “I fight with two swords. I use short swords because they aren’t as heavy and are better balanced. As for the armor, the leather gives me better mobility. Metal armor restricts my movement.”

“If you fight with two swords, then where is the other one?”

“I lost it during our mad dash to this building.”

“He speaks the truth, dwarf, ” Vorrett interjected. “He had two when we began fighting.”

Karacus still didn’t trust him, but couldn’t argue with them without proof. Night had descended. The three injured companions: Karacus, Tromellus, and Merran , rested while Vorrett and Laveron took turns on watch. Time passed uneventfully. When dawn began to approach, they each took positions over fallen enemies, knowing they would rise soon. A debate arose about what to do when they woke Laveron said they should be slain as soon as they showed signs of life. Vorrett and Karacus disagreed. That’s when the elf pointed out that their opponents wouldn’t hesitate to do what he had proposed. The human agreed with him. Karacus agreed as well, but he didn’t like it.

The group tensed as the sun began to ascend. Karacus stood over the body of the dwarf who had stabbed him. In the moment when his wounds would heal and his opponent rise, nothing happened. They stood there waiting for many more long moments. Then, unexpectedly, the bodies of the slain disappeared. Each of them were startled. The dwarf looked over at Laveron. He was suddenly very grateful that the elf had stabbed the dwarf in the back.

Laveron walked over to the priest and whispered , ” I told you so.”

As the companions regrouped in the main room, there was only one thing on their minds; a question. What was going on here?

Granted, he always took small steps, which happens when you’re a dwarf, but they were extra small today. He was being especially cautious today. After all, it’s not every day when buildings appear out of nowhere. As he inched closer to the crumbling shack, he noticed that he was the only person moving. When he finally made it, the others had shaken off the shock and followed his lead. Karacus entered the one story house with trepidation. Why had the gods marred the once lovely landscape with these piles of rock?

Movement flashed out of the shadows. He only saw it out of the corners of his eyes but made no motion to suggest that he caught it. Gripping his axe, he kept walking forward. The dwarf peered through the doorway in front of him, but saw only collapsed walls. That’s when the shadows came to life.

A dagger leapt from the darkness, aimed at his unprotected throat. Karacus barely got his axe up in time to deflect the blow. Again the dagger attempted to strike him, but he was better prepared to defend himself this time. With the element of surprise gone, the dagger could not make any decent offensive maneuvers. The dwarf, knowing that a dagger cannot attack by itself, stood defensively until an opportunity to attack presented itself. After one poorly aimed stab, Karacus sidestepped and swung his axe at the shadow. A scream came as he felt his weapon hit something solid. Blood dripped from his axe as the dagger fell to the floor.

The priest pulled the body of his attacker out into the light. It was a human. He wore no armor, which confused the dwarf. Everyone here had arrived in the garments that they had died in. If this man wore no armor and attacked from the shadows, then he did not belong here. Of course, neither did these buildings. Nothing angered Karacus more than dishonorable people, so he walked to the door to warn everyone of this new treachery.

Just as he shouted his warning, the quiet morning erupted into pained screams and battle cries. The dwarf watched as his comrades fell from backstabs and shady tactics. He rushed out to help. Fighting his way through the battle, he reached a group of his fellow Fieldmen. They welcomed him in, for they were outnumbered as well as surrounded. “We need to reach that shack I just came from,” he advised. “It is far more defensible than this open ground.”

” Agreed, ” said an elf who just dispatched one of their attackers.

Karacus took up point, leading the way while the others protected his back. He sliced down one man who stood in his way. His fellows fought on with ferociousness, not wanting to fall to these intruders. Soon, a path cleared before them. None wanted to stand in their way. They were still being pounded from their flanks, but nobody wanted to fight the enraged dwarf. After what seemed like hours, they reached their destination. The dwarf entered the building first, to make sure it was still empty, while his four companions held the door. Thinking that they might try the same tactic as the one before them, Karacus swung into the shadows, once again hitting a hidden foe.

This time, the attack came from the other room. A throwing knife struck the dwarf’s helmet. Karacus turned around, slightly dazed, to find a new threat standing in the doorway. It was a fellow dwarf. Another knife was thrown. While the priest brought his axe up to block it, this new dwarf ran in. Pain shot up his arm as he was cut from his attacker’s short sword. Despite being dazed, Karacus managed to defend himself from the rest of the attacks.

Enraged that one of his own race would use such tactics in battle, the priest shook off the dazed feeling and went on the offensive. His opponent was unprepared for this. Suddenly in retreat, the dwarf fell over a pile of rocks as the priest pursued him. The sword flew from his grasp as he hit the floor. Looking on in horror as Karacus raised his axe, he was surprised when the blow never came. Karacus lowered his weapon and looked at his fallen opponent. ” I will not kill an unarmed opponent, ” he said. “You are now my prisoner. You will do exactly as I say from now on.”

“Ye don’t much talk like a dwarf, ” the captive commented.

“That is because I am a man of honor, not a savage like you.”

“That be yer thinkin’. Not mine.”

“Get up, vermin.”

“I can’t. I hurt me leg when I fell. It hurt bad.”

“Then I shall help you.”

Karacus walked over and offered his hand. With one hand, the captive took what was offered, with the other he drew a knife and stabbed the priest in the leg. Howling in pain, Karacus fell to the floor. He pulled the knife out and clutched at his wound. While he was out of it his opponent retrieved his sword. Standing over the prone priest, he said, “I ain’t got no problem with killin’ ya when ya ain’t got no weapon.”

The sword thrust came, but not from the dwarf. Looking down, the attacker saw the blade sticking out of his chest. Too stunned to speak, he simply dropped to the floor dead. The elf stood behind him. Shrugging, he helped Karacus to his feet. ” The others have the door secure. I heard your cry and came back to see if you needed help. Obviously, you did. “

“You stabbed him in the back.”

” I know. As shamed as I am, I do not regret it. It was him or you, and I chose you. “

“You don’t regret it? It was not honorable.”

“A luxury that our foes have. I know it was wrong, but even if I announced my presence, he still might’ve struck you down before I arrived.”

” True,” Karacus agreed, “but I still would’ve awakened tomorrow morning to avenge myself.”

“With all of the crazy happenings here today, I would not count on it.”

The priest could not argue that point. With the help of the elf, he walked into the main room. He saw one of the humans standing watch at the door, while the other human and other elf were treating their wounds. Karacus sat down, leaning against the wall. Tearing off a piece of one of the dead men’s shirts, he wrapped it around the wound in his leg. Looking around, he noted that they all looked tired. “Night has begun to fall,” the lookout stated, as if reading the dwarf’s mind.