This chapter should have gone out on the weekend but I got distracted with other things. Anyway, we know so little about the heroes of the dungeon keeper world other than that they come from a land above and they believe in themselves as the good fighting against evil that seeks to destroy them (they're not wrong in that regard). But there's so much we don't know about them so I try to explore some of that in this chapter. This is my own ideas and, to my knowledge, there is no actual canon information on this.
The victorious heroes returned to the fortress amidst the cheers of the guards on duty, accompanied by several congratulations and pats on the back. It was rare that a dungeon heart was destroyed without suffering losses. This was a cause for joy and celebration in the fortress and an impromptu party was thrown in the group's honour in the mess hall.
"Guys, guys it was nothing really, anyone could have pulled it off," Farish said, hands up trying to placate the crowd of youngster asking questions.
"Certainly not anyone young man. After hearing your debriefing you and your men deserve the praise you're receiving. You had a difficult fight on your hands and thought on your feet, your men reacted with honour and distinction," came a booming voice from behind which caused everyone to stop talking and some of the newer recruits to look down at their toes.
Farish spun around and gave a deep bow, "My Lord, you honour me with your words." Before him stood a tall man decked out in heavy plate armour and a two handed sword slung over his back.
"Rise Farish, in the mess hall there is no rank. I am simply another protector of the light like you," the knight said with a wave of his hand.
Farish slowly stood up straight again and then looked around at the others trying to hide his embarrassment, "Large social gatherings are against protocol in a war zone recruits."
"At ease men, given the victory today I think we can bend the rules just a little," the young recruits looked at each other uneasily while Farish looked up at the knight with a questioning look, the knight stepped back and beckoned, "Walk with me Farish."
Farish nodded quickly and fell into stride beside him.
"You've been down here for … how long is it, three years now?" the knight asked as he walked towards an empty corner of the room.
"Four Sir as of last month," Farish replied.
"Four years, half the recruits don't even survive their first, or if they do they return to the surface too injured or afraid to continue fighting."
"Yes sir. I do mourn those who have passed on or were injured but I pity those who are too afraid to fight on in their memory," it had been a sore spot for Farish for three years now. When his first year of service had ended and he'd been given the option to leave, he had seen no reason to. Instead he wanted to fight on for the friends he'd lost.
"You are an honourable and brave man Farish, but not everyone is cut from the same cloth. We should not pity those who chose not to continue the fight, we should sympathise with them for they did not have the strength of will to continue facing down the enemy down here. But also those that return above often prove to be very helpful to us still, some of the best weapons and armour of the knightly order were forged by those who left the depths; if they had not they might not have found their true calling," the knight explained as he took a seat at a small table.
Farish sat too and nodded, "I understand sir but there are already people above who fill those roles. The old and the crippled who cannot fight, another blacksmith won't make the difference in this war but another man with a sword or bow could."
"That may be true, but that is something we will never know. Everyone has a limit and it would be cruel to expect them to carry on beyond it. It is just part of being human."
"I see what you're saying sir," Farish nodded slowly but didn't look convinced.
The knight sighed and then indicated the rest of the people in the mess hall, "A victory that goes as well as yours did is a rare thing. Despite the rules, we have to keep everyone's morale in mind too. We live in an underground fortress fighting horrors from the depths every day. That wears on the mind of any man, even you and I. A situation like this gives everybody hope and hope is what keeps this fortress standing. If there was no hope we'd all just curl up and give up; let the Keepers' forces waltz through and up into the overworld."
"Yes sir, Thesia … err our priestess was saying something similar last night, I mean when we were planning the attack."
"Then she is a smart woman, she sees that hope is important to all of us. Now go and enjoy your party, and try to keep things from getting too far out of control," as he said that he nodded towards three young giants who seemed to be in a drinking contest with Thurg and Haldrun.
Farish gulped at the sight and turned back, "Sir, might I instead request a transfer?"
The knight chuckled, "Denied, now go and sort that out."
Farish nodded and slowly got up. One of the giants collapsed to the ground while a second had begun a shouting match with Thurg. This wasn't something he would enjoy fixing.
Elsewhere there was a knock at a door.
"Yes what is it, come in," Anrakis said with a frustrated sigh.
The door opened slowly and Thesia stuck her head through, "Am I disturbing you?"
"Of course you are, but you already know that so what is the point in asking?" the old wizard grumbled as he set a book down.
She shrugged off the comment and stepped inside, "I was wondering why you weren't in the mess hall celebrating with the others so I came to check on you."
"Celebration, a bunch of kids gathered in a group wanting to hear your story while you eat the same food you do every day; does that sound like a celebration?"
"Come now, you're not normally this ornery … well actually you are but you're not so vocal about it."
Anrakis sighed and stood up, "It was a minor victory, it is no cause for celebration when we still have two far more powerful Keepers on our doorstep."
"Not everyone considers the bigger picture like you do Anrakis," Thesia said and swung her hand around indicating everything around her, "Or maybe they do but everything we do must be done one step at a time. If we aren't proud of ourselves for taking our first step on a road to an important goal, then how can we be proud of ourselves when we take the last step?"
"This wasn't the first step though, nor will there ever be a last step. We can't kill the Keepers and we don't have the man power to keep them from having somewhere to retreat to, the world is too big."
"You sound like a tired old man Anrakis."
"Have you looked at me lately Thesia? I am a tired old man, I have spent almost thirty years fighting this war, the last five in this fortress. I gave up a wife and three children, and the joys of the world above because I thought I was doing what was best to protect them."
"You are, no one can serve and protect better than to do what you are doing," Thesia could see the tired look in his eyes but as a priestess she firmly believed in her words and felt they were serving the best interests of the overworld and her god.
"I thought that way too, but one person cannot make a difference in the grand scheme of things."
"If everyone thought like that –" she began but was cut off.
"But everyone doesn't think like that, that is why I've always hated that argument. If everyone did think the same way then we wouldn't be here in the first place would we?"
"I suppose. But you're wrong; one person can make a difference."
"That is your opinion Thesia," Anrakis sat back down and picked up his book, saying no more.
Thesia knew the conversation was over and left the old wizard's room. She looked at the closed door and muttered, "Maybe it is just my opinion, but I will fight on to the very end because I believe it's what's right." With that she turned and walked away.
