Maraxus: Welcome readers to the second part of the chapter. We've engaged in glorious battle against the dwarf forces in order to-

Gnarl: They know what has happened. They wouldn't be reading part two without having read part one.

Maraxus: Wise words, oh wise Minion. As always readers, this story and all credit for it goes to Sunjinjo on deviantart.

Gnarl: Such a wonderful lady. I've known her for quite some time now, and she has created some truly unique and wonderful characters.

Maraxus: Her work in the realm of Overlord stories is extremely impressive I agree. Now, on with the story!

Trick of the Light Part 2

Deeper down, similar things happened. On the level of Ucat Zuden huge tavern brawls suddenly broke out as browns gulped down the mugs they were carrying, broke everything breakable, and rushed at their masters. Even the little ones had always felt the urge to drink the beer instead of serving it to the dwarves, but Estell's pulse really had them turn around. And as a few veterans from Jinx' time joined them things really couldn't be better; soon they had to pull overly enthusiastic youngsters from the chandeliers, and loose groups pulled together into a true horde.

A few of the young ones born in Stodir were too frightened to leave their home in the great tavern hall of Hangvul Ucat Zuden, the clan leader, but then one of them who had dared to accept a weapon from Estell's blues stood up. Scraps carried a huge crossbow, far too large for him, and he could scarcely fire it, but when he did do so it was with murderous precision.

The dwarven crossbows were one of their strongest weapon types; something very similar had felled Lady Jinx before the young Minion had been born. Scraps knew this story.

His arrows thudded into the stomachs of the unarmoured dwarves that tried to stop them, and even pierced the lighter steel breastplates of the guardians from deeper in Hangvul's fortress, and when he found himself unable to reload he simply used the heavy bow as a huge club. There was far more strength in his arms than he'd thought, and he shouted this to the young ones behind him as well. "Can break out! Fight with me!" He saw some take up arms, hesitant or less hesitant, and join him. Soon, and with far more ease than they'd ever expected, they were outside and blinking in dull sunlight and the glow of Ucat Zuden's green-golden torches. And straight ahead that light gleamed off a giant bronze-clad beer bath, suspended in the crater's opening with great chains…

Scraps tightened his grip on the crossbow. "Always wanted to," he growled, and he didn't know his own voice. He sprinted forward and threw himself on the mechanism tightening the chains. Soon he had company, both young Minions and dwarves trying to stop him, but then there were more Minions, some with the same idea. Together they were so much stronger…

The chain shot free, and the beer bath swerved through the crater, tilting and letting out all the beer, together with the few dwarves who'd hoped to be safe in the bath. Screams reached Scraps' frayed ears, and he grinned a bloodthirsty grin, drunk on a new sense of belonging.

Even deeper in the mountain, deeper than the forge, there were not as many Minions… but the Minions that were present were all the more important.

After the blues had passed through, Nitro, right hand of dwarven creativity and master bomb maker, had grown rather nervous. This was too soon, he wasn't anywhere near done with his big project… but the biggest project of all, of course, was his Master's world domination, which would give him comparable or even better chances. And no matter how much of a home Stodir had become to him, he missed the Netherworld… and he'd more than welcome a chance to blow up the mountain.

He had thought of telling his partner, Jack, and saying goodbye, but the pulse had already come. The command was impossible to ignore.

Silt and his group had come along earlier, to show themselves to Jack in Estell's absence, and mainly Clam had sharply questioned the green-clad inventor and lashed out at him for betraying Jinx back in the day. Jack had told them that decision still weighed heavily on him, and he'd gladly re-join Evil if it proved itself worthy… Nitro sincerely hoped for this.

But now he scooped up armfuls of small bombs, bound as many as he could carry to his belts, and sped off to the paths leading up to the forge. Whatever stood in his way – dwarven soldiers, terrified citizens of Stodir, the last tanks streaming into the harbour via the Kel Udos tunnel – he bombed it all without regard, and he realized just how much he'd missed this. Jumping and climbing, blowing up things someone else needed – not needing anything himself! Furious dwarves turned against him, but all heavy weaponry had streamed out of the mountain. It occurred to him what a delicious combination of circumstances this was, and he flared brighter in appreciation of the Master he'd never seen. A siege outside, an outbreak inside… He looked forward to meeting this elf, the elf Silt had been so loyal to.

He looked around, searching for Jack, hoping to take him along or at least still say goodbye, or at the very least not accidentally blow him up, but he didn't see the green top hat anywhere. Then his own fire filled his entire world, and he lost himself in glorious destruction.

Less glorious destruction took place in the harbours at that very moment. The battlefield had turned more or less active again, even despite Indil's bomber beetles around the indrathor's barrel. The elf didn't dare to detonate them yet; it was clear the dwarves were holding back and mainly tried to enclose Kadath's troops, and were very much capable of hitting harder if they hadn't feared for their almost sacred weapon. Indil knew the indrathor could only fire once and then had to be extensively reloaded; the power of firing would almost be too much for the weapon, and the fortress it stood on. In that time she'd easily be able to destroy the cannon, but only if she lived… But it wasn't really a good thing to be encircled and led into Stodir either, even if the dwarves didn't fire.

Then a new horn blast echoed over the battlefield, intrusive and deafening. The dwarven voice followed. "Your Overlord had been captured!" it boomed. "Cease combat, Estell Greenhaze is in the king's grasp! We will cut off a limb for every mech or tank that falls now, every beetle you detonate!"

Nyarai looked up abruptly. She knew about the plan… but this news still scared her. What if things had gone awry? What if Estell was actually captured? She knew Shadow had gotten into trouble in a magical prison earlier, in the grasp of a Ruborian sand mage…

"Whatever you do, it's useless," the voice thundered ominously. "Surrender and enter the mountain, and join your Lord."

The news discouraged Kadath's troops, and even the most stubborn among them – including Nyarai, who refused to believe things had gone wrong – surrendered to the huge ring of soldiers and mechs now forming around them, and were driven to Stodir's entrance like sheep. The elves and Zola put away their weapons. The green and blue Minions turned visible and tangible. Some, at the army's edge, paid for this with their lives as the dwarves indulged in some small-scale slaughter…

…and then a spluttering resounded through the huge speaking horn. It echoed over the battlefield unexplained, everyone fell silent and looked around in confusion, and then the indrathor started turning.

Nyarai's gaze turned with it. She knew they were to Stodir's west right now, and there were fertile valleys to the mountain's north, filled with pastures and fields of crops, where the majority of the browns worked and where their Hive was located… a grin crept onto her face. She grasped a nearby green Minion. "Flitter! Get them out of there!" She pointed at the area the indrathor was now being aimed at; she knew the gunner absolutely didn't mean to hit Kadath's troops, but she didn't want to take any risks with this weapon. The battle for the harbours had already claimed a lot of lives, and though she knew the dead Zola would be triumphantly reborn, she still wanted to limit the number of casualties. The Minion sped off, soon invisible. She looked up. The indrathor turned further, jolting, slowly, and a few bomber beetles fluttered down already. Then the cannon thudded to a halt, and Nyarai pressed her hands against her ears.

Still she was almost deafened by the blow with which the almost godlike weapon fired. The shockwave shivered through the ground and the mountainside, and dust and rockslides came down from the fortress. Numbed, she fell back, against a few elves from Ruvalk, and in a daze she realized the enormous projectile was still in the air… this shockwave came purely from firing it…

And then the projectile hit.

The earth jolted and convulsed like a wounded animal, the scorching heat made it seem like the Ruborian sun had broken through the clouds, the light blinded her right through her tightly shut eyelids. All of it happened all the way on the other side of the battlefield, even far outside the ring of dwarves, and the bodies and body parts and tiny particles that had once belonged to bodies spraying up there now largely belonged to dwarves – Flitter and the other greens had warned their own people and the entire group had moved closer to the mountain – but Nyarai was still more afraid than she'd ever been. She realized she'd indeed have taken the weapon for a vengeful god if she hadn't known any better. It did comfort her somewhat that there were no weapons greater or mightier than the dwarven indrathor…

Then she realized there was someone speaking through the horn again, getting through to her and her battered eardrums in waves. No… this was no speaking. It was shouting, yelling, in rage and triumph. "Advance, Kadath!" the voice called out, and Nyarai's heart leapt as she recognized the speaker, even though she didn't see him. "North, to victory! There's always hope – hope cannot be locked up!"

Hope. Estell.

A huge hole had been blown in the dwarven surrounding of Kadath's army, and a crater hundreds of feet wide had opened in the ground and rock formations beyond it; the entire area was a smoking ash cloud, glowing cinders still coming down like fiery snowfall. They'd easily be able to leave the battlefield through that hole. The elves and Zola streamed towards it as one, north, away from the harbours. Nyarai's legs felt like rubber, but she realized she could still run just fine; faster than ever, in fact.

From the mountain something dark soared down and over the army. Nyarai stumbled to a halt, jumped up and waved wildly. "Shadow!"

Blue eyes lit up, brighter than ever. "Nyarai!" He flashed towards her, embraced her and kissed her, and she could feel his fear. "Nyarai," he uttered. "I thought…"

"You got some of ours," the Zola spoke, "but not many. And not me."

"I had to. It was part of the plan if this would happen."

"They were stronger than we expected," Nyarai nodded, running on. She shivered. "Ariki and Kaalu are dead. He died with your name on his lips."

Shadow nodded quietly. "We'll never forget that."

Nyarai quickly hugged him. "Go, you're needed inside."

He rose. "We'll be there as soon as we can! Everything's going according to plan on the inside, this is going to work!" He soared up, back to the mountain, back to the fortress where the indrathor was once again swarmed by Indil's bomber beetles, not holding back this time. Every explosion set off a dozen more, and soon the copper layers curled off the cannon, molten and deformed. The inner workings weren't much better off, and as Shadow soared past the detonation mechanism was damaged beyond repair. He nodded contently. The dwarves must have more, all the way around the volcano, but this one was out of use.
Far below him Kadath's army streamed from the dwarves' grip, almost all its warriors faster and more nimble than their pursuers, through the cracked crater he'd created in the surrounding plateau. The battle followed them, but Kadath was faster. They'd reach the fields.

Then he looked back up, and his eye was caught by another fortress, higher up the mountainside, small and inconspicuous with distance and the surrounding rough rock formations. Something drew him up there... something beyond the tallest parapets...
...dark, deep eyes... golden armour... a strangely irregular crown...

It wasn't part of the plan, but it was too good to be true.

Shadow shot forward, not restricted by the council chamber's circumstances, completely able to reach king Thorlond now.

The two blue hordes re-joined in the forge. Minions flooded up and down everywhere around them, the majority of them armed... but even now Trickle and Leaky's groups had left a great amount of weapons. The blues who'd hidden them must've had bigger plans...

The two temporary horde leaders met eyes. "There's more Minions."

"Much more," Leaky nodded.

Trickle glanced upwards. "Fancy another trip? To get all of it?"

Leaky grinned. "And then to the fields… what are browns without weapons?"

Estell shot down through the mountain, cloak flapping and Ructa by his side. Everywhere around him utter chaos broke out and his Minions joined him; reds, browns, his blue messengers. Almost all of them were small, but he could swear he could see them grow in battle; almost in actual size, and certainly in confidence and strength. All of them were stronger than they'd thought themselves.

And then there were the veterans from Jinx' day who'd held on to hope for a new Master; they baffled him with pure strength and tenacity. When they were wounded they simply raged on, and their wounds stopped bleeding in minutes, even healing a bit before the blues had reached them. There was so much chaos; anything that could burn burst into flame around them, every door of Stodir's inhabited areas was kicked in, from the inside to let Minions out or from the outside to plunder the dwellings and get at new weapons, anything breakable was broken and all the beer was gulped down. As Estell had heard from Gnarl, drunken Minions only fought better.

Halfway down, Estell threw off Ructa's cloak; it didn't matter if the dwarves could see his armour or his hair anymore. He was received with rasping cheers, and the Minions' enthusiasm went to his head. He was very aware of how fearful this would've made him once, all this bloodshed and random destruction of everything they encountered, but he was no longer that elf; and even besides that, he could clearly remember being dragged through this city bound to a pole, his head shaven, his hand flayed, a pile of humiliated misery. It delighted him to storm through it now, a whirlwind of destruction. He just wished for destructive magic, so he could join his horde with the same vigour. A voice in the back of his head told him he couldn't continue like this, there would be a moment when this joy would fade, and he knew it to be true; he didn't aim to destroy the dwarves. No matter how terribly they'd treated him, he wanted to get them under the blue banner in the end.

Wherever he could, he also dominated individuals, as much for practice with more complex minds as to leave followers in Stodir that might re-join him later, if they'd survive among their own… but he couldn't deny how much he enjoyed the rush of the kill, too.

They fought their way down through Deb Nar, Fer Kin, Ucat Zuden and Noth Bomrek with an increasing number of Minions and power. Almost all soldiers and machines had been drawn out by his army, and what was left offered good target practice for his more hesitant Minions. The majority of Stodir's Minions were overjoyed to be free, and fought with everything they had, but a small part seemed to be absolutely broken by their captivity, like elves whose magic had been extinguished by a lifetime of slavery. Estell kept these Minions close, at Gnarl's advice, and sent them out to the easier victims at times – citizens of the inhabited parts of the city, the visitors of Noth Bomrek's slave market – to let them discover what they were truly capable of.

All Minions were stealing bits of armour to the left and right, as well as weapons and headgear; mainly the latter appeared to be very important to the previously bare-headed Minions. Gnarl informed Estell that Minions grew very attached to their hats, and even identified by them. Stealing or damaging a Minion's headgear was very dangerous to anyone but him, their Master. Soon his Minions wore rolled-up bits of banner as turbans, pieces of copper beer taps, great mushroom hoods, skulls and half-skinned sheep heads from Deb Nar's kitchens and all sorts of headgear from Noth Bomrek's slave markets, from black Radaraz masks to Imperial ladies' plumes. A few of them swished loose bits of banner behind them, in an overjoyed display of freedom and victory – far too early, perhaps, but who was Estell to deny them?

Then they reached Kel Aval's level, the forgers and miners, where Estell knew the red Hive and the majority of the red Minions to be. They were greeted by a cheering crowd of Minions, almost as large as the horde he already had with him and largely red, and a whole lot of dwarven corpses with gruesome injuries. This was the level where the dwarven weapons were forged, and many of the brown smiths under Giblet's leadership had claimed their own work. There were also workers from Kel Udos among them, and Estell recognized a few gruesome drills spinning by themselves. Many dwarves were riddled with suspiciously round holes. The Minions looked more dangerous and professional than the ragtag bunch he already had with him; their headgear mainly included forging masks and even some winged and spiked army helmets. Before his eyes, a slender red snatched a gleaming purple top hat off a brown's head, and as he protested another, huge Minion stepped between the two. Estell suddenly recognized him as Giblet, the smith with the heavy hammer. He raised his eyebrows briefly, but then grinned as Gnarl's overjoyed reactions got through to him.

The adviser was clearly jumping around the mist pool with excitement, and even out of his hearing most of the time, as to not disturb him too much.

Estell halted on an elevation leading up to a huge smelting pool, the opening the molten metal poured from shaped like a dwarven face with open mouth. In the glow of the metal, the surrounding magma and the red Minions he raised his left hand and let a pulse roll over his horde. The enthusiastic chittering and rasping, the playful clash of weaponry and the laughter quieted down. "My horde," he spoke, and he was briefly surprised to hear how far his voice carried in the hot, trembling air. "Today we break out. Today is a red day… a day for Minions, for the wild horde."

Grand cheering was his answer. A little further away a few dwarven smiths still tried to get away from behind a pillar, but a small group of reds soon rained down fire upon them, and their shrieks joined the Minion din.

"But first," Estell's voice rang, "we have to get to the Hive. She's here, isn't she?"

A huge red Minion with a metal hook for a hand came forward and coughed hoarsely. "No, Master," he rasped. "Not since last attempt."

Estell's eyes flared. "Where is she?"

"Eighth level, Master. Datan Dur."

"The royal island," Gnarl spoke. "Of course. No half measures after what happened last time. We almost succeeded, and they know it."

Estell looked at Ructa. "That's an unwelcome surprise." He paused. "But no more than that. Do we have everyone?"

Agreeing growls were his answer. "Then we go!" He leapt off the elevation and purposefully stepped towards the paths leading down to Kel Udos… but then froze. They did miss someone. Aside from the Minions, someone else was supposed to meet him here…

"Where's Shadow?"

For a few heart stopping moments, nobody replied. Then Estell looked around in beginning desperation, and up at the faraway crater, a dim light source half hidden by smog and many crisscrossing paths. Something dark fluttered down from there… in a manner that couldn't be further from Shadow's usual swift, purposeful flight…

"Shadow!" Estell ran forward, and as the apparition came lower he recognized glowing blue eyes – it was indeed his counterpart. He caught him. "What happened to you?"

"Battle… helped them by firing the cannon…" Shadow's voice was feeble, his eyes flickering dully. "They went north. I flew up and saw Thorlond."

Estell stiffened. "Did you…"

"I tried. Didn't work." Shadow looked at him. "Couldn't get in. Couldn't get a grip."

The elf turned cold, strangely at the moment Shadow left his arms. "How… can that be?"

"No idea." Shadow shook himself and seemed to come back to his senses somewhat. "I couldn't see anything. Or, yes…" He straightened his shoulders. "Gold… gold in the dark. And then he kicked me out. He knows what we are, Estell."

"That was today's risk. I think we can handle him."

Shadow seemed to see the huge Minion horde for the first time, and he whistled softly in appreciation. "Marvellous work, all of you."

The young Minions alertly stared at him. "Dark Master?"

"I'm his magic," Shadow laughed. "We only just found that out ourselves."

"Aah! Master's shadow!"

"Literally," Estell smiled. "But this is worrisome, Shadow. If we can't dominate him…"

"Maybe we can. I couldn't take over on my own, but we might dominate him together. If we join up…" Shadow looked at him intently. "But, Estell… about handling Stodir… they were being slaughtered in the harbour. If I hadn't interfered, things could've gone very wrong."

Estell's eyes sparked. "Nyarai…?"

"She's alive. But Kaalu and Ariki died. Kitava's the new chief."

Estell grimaced. "We're not strong enough… not even with the browns and reds?"

"We'll see," his counterpart replied, but the elf could hear his doubt. "We'll see."

Estell looked out over the horde. "The Hive's not here," he changed the subject. "We have to go down. To the eighth level."

"The island?" Shadow narrowed his eyes. "Well, no time to lose. Let's go."

Kadath's army still streamed around the mountain towards the fields, the majority of the dwarven troops after them. It didn't take long before messengers from within the city started reaching them, however, via the huge speaking horns on the mountainside or messengers on foot. Ironically there were even a few Minions among them, who hadn't gotten away from their masters in time and couldn't read the message they carried. Migs, the personal messenger of an old Kel Udos engineer, arrived at one of the army's commanders in his royal mech with the golden fist, and jumped up to hand over his message. The dwarf glanced at it once, and then sounded his horn. A part of the army halted and joined him. "The city's under attack from the inside," the dwarf bellowed.

"Follow!" The mech raised a massive foot, and Migs realized at once what was going on and what the dwarf planned to do to him. He rolled away before the machine could squash him, ran out of reach of the troops and stared in horror at the heavy artillery now returning to Stodir. Then he looked the other way. His ears flew up, and he sprinted after Kadath, unsure and unarmed, but certain of the place he was needed now.

Kel Udos' level was utter chaos. Estell and his horde descended amidst thick, viscous streams of magma, across stepped factory floors full of steam engines, conveyor belts, huge cogs and mysterious levers. At times his Minions couldn't resist pulling these, and in effect ovens opened, random machines blew off steam, or belts suddenly ran thrice as fast; this, even besides the horde's presence itself, had the engineers run for their lives rather quickly.
The level was complicated, but Estell had a simple goal in mind. Downwards.

Shadow soared along with him, and the Overlord realized the news about Thorlond had almost made him forget something else. "Shadow, Sora's still alive," he blurted out as he dodged a metal claw grasping at him from above. A level higher a dwarf controlled the machine, but his reds already scrambled up to give him a beating and prevent their Master from being plucked off the ground. A little later one of them threw a bomb down and the entire machine burst apart in a hail of twisted metal.

Shadow jolted. "What?!"

Estell chuckled. "So Nyarai didn't tell you everything either… she was lying, Shadow. She may be a seer, but in the here and now. She saw how badly I was faring and gave me an emotional beating to wake me up."

Shadow stared ahead. "Well, it worked…" His eyes flared. "But that's fantastic."

Gnarl laughed. "So you have two Mistresses now. It's starting to resemble the old situation, Master. Your father had three Mistresses."

"Three…" Estell blew. "We'll have to see how Sora and Nyarai act around each other."
"It seems difficult to me too, Sire, but it did keep the domain nice and lively." The advisor paused, and the group crossed an immense lava flow, across a metal grid. "Personally, I prefer one lover at a time."

Estell nervously looked down at the lava, and almost missed what Gnarl had said. Then he raised his eyebrows. "You, Gnarl?"

"What do you take me for, boy? I was young once…"

The elf laughed. "Ah…" Then he looked up, and caught a green glimpse. Beyond a parapet, a few levels higher, stood a tall man with a green top hat, strangely misplaced in this dwarven oven. To Estell's surprise he was waving, and to his greater surprise one of his reds, not far behind him, jumped up to wave back. "Who's that?"

Gnarl sputtered with laughter. "That's Jack, the inventor! Nitro, are you still friends?"

The red nodded, slightly ashamed. "Been working together for long time."

"Well, he is a traitor… but we'll deal with him later."

"A traitor?" It really got through to Estell how cheerful Gnarl was, if he could even laugh at this. "Was he on our side once?"

"He worked for Jinx. But as the dwarves started winning, he sided with them to save his skin, granting them new designs… exploding and flying and rolling things. He's a great inventor, with a rather dangerous mind."

"Aha…" Estell looked on as Jack turned around with a smile, walking back to where he assumed his working area was.

They hurried on, towards a giant vaulted tunnel leading out of the mountain from this level. Just like the main gate in the south ended in Noth Bomrek's slave market, Kel Udos led to the harbours, so the engineers could release their ships there. Estell caught a glimpse of pale daylight, darkened by smoke streaming in from outside. He grimaced as Shadow's words came back to him. They were being slaughtered in the harbour.

As they walked, two blue Minions came forward through the horde. Estell recognized Silt, and one of the others he'd left behind. "Master, about Jack… we've met with him, a few weeks ago. He said he'd join you if you proved worthy of his loyalty."

Before Estell could say anything, Gnarl chuckled. "Oh, yes? Well, we'll see…"

Nitro coughed. "Worked on something big. Jack will want to use… against you. Will keep working on it and tweak design, so I won't know everything and can't help."

Estell stared ahead, to where more and more daylight broke through the harbour tunnel. "One hazardous mission at a time."

And then he wished he hadn't said that. They were about to get company from the passage; company topped off by winged and spiked helmets, axes and crossbows, and a few mechs towering over the dwarven foot soldiers. A part of the army had come back…

Estell's eyes flashed to the path leading down to Nazush Neth across the crater. He started running, and the horde with him; they could make it…

Flaming arrows ricocheted off the rock before them as they leapt onto the path, and Estell could feel the ground tremble as the mechs joined them on it. But they were faster… elves and Minions would always be faster than mechs and dwarves… and the red Minions soon swept to the underside of the path, to run along upside down, grasping on to any irregularities in the rock. Nitro remained behind a little bit, higher up on the walls, and yanked bomb after bomb off his belts to lob them into the army. On Gnarl's advice, a few other reds threw themselves between the horde's rear and the dwarves' vanguard, formed by flamethrowers; they were all active, but where the reds descended into the flames they didn't just shield the more vulnerable browns, but they were also strengthened by the heat. The reds who had never known real heat, like Wick and Tallow from the fortress, actually got a little growth spurt. The two little ones seemed very put off by this and got closer to Estell again. The majority of the blues blinked right through the flamethrowers and pried at their fuel tanks with long silvery daggers…

Then they arrived on Nazush Neth's level, and Estell truly realized what an impact his plan had had.

The level lay spread out before them, dominated by a huge black bastion right across the crater, hung with red banners and framed by flowing magma. The lower reaches were all arenas and barracks, surrounded by racks that'd once been full of weaponry. Many of those were now outside the mountain or right behind them, but quite a bit of it was also in the claws of his horde, and now in use against their pursuers. As they hurried through the level his Minions made use of every elevation, every tactically placed barricade, to fatally assault the dwarves or at least slow them down. Sometimes they had to deal with archers already positioned there, but when the browns joined in this usually posed no problem. A few of Jinx' veterans almost had to be pulled away from the dwarven troops, but this usually wasn't accomplished before they'd gathered a pile of bodies. The pounding of Giblet's hammer against dwarven helmets and skulls rang out like so many bells. Shadow took control of a mech driver and blocked off a good part of the march…

Estell tried to leap over the barricades as fast as he could, but noticed once again that agility wasn't his greatest asset; he still hadn't properly gotten used to pushing off with his left hand. A few bombs exploded just ahead of him and forced him to use even more swiftness he didn't possess.

"Did he really empty the entire level?" he wondered.

"Almost. When he heard about harbour," a little hoarse voice came from the side. Wick and Tallow ran along with him, their heads completely stable as their claws scrambled over rock and decorative magma flows in the wall. Fierce yellow eyes fixated him. "Didn't think you were threat, before. And wanted to exterminate as soon as possible after… didn't have proper challenge in long time."

"Imagine, Sire, a plan that goes off without a hitch. We haven't had one of those in a while," Gnarl remarked dryly. "But hurry, will you! Look for a way down!"

Estell looked around and wondered how the dwarves lived with this heat, combined with their heavy armour – how did they train their armies here? Luckily his Zola armour was relatively light and airy when in the resting position…

The magma was thicker than ever here. As they arrived at the level's edge, a sun shone up at them, so much closer than the actual sun in the faraway sky, and so much brighter. The crater lake was abruptly broken by bridges, silhouetted in black; one leading down to the eighth level, and one leading to the island at the heart of the magma lake. The island…

Estell sprinted towards the path leading down, his heart pumping away, his lungs burning with sulphury air. He was running straight into hell…

No. Hell's in my head. Hell is being tied to a torture rack, chained to a bed. Hell is… powerlessness. Losing control. He clenched his jaws. I'm in control here. Losing control is what others do… because of me.

Shadow soared past him, free from the mech he'd been controlling. "Estell…"

"What is it?" He looked back feverishly. Were the dwarves catching up? Was their flight at an end?

But the opposite was true. The troops had halted at the bridge leading down; mechs, soldiers and archers turned around and marched off. Estell frowned and slowed down. "What…"

"They don't think we'll survive this, Estell. They drove us here." As Shadow spoke, a thundering explosion resounded behind them; the dwarves had placed down their bombs. Part of the bridge crumbled behind them, and a few reds just managed to leap to safety. Nitro laughed wildly as he lobbed back his own bombs, and Estell seriously doubted whether he understood the weight of the situation.

Briefly they just stood there. Estell looked down, to the island in the deep. Ructa joined him.

"Here we are."

The island had seemed a black blot, silhouetted against the magma's blinding glow. Now they were closer it was a castle, a fortress, grand as Kadath's crowning palace itself. Blunt towers, battlements and robust terraces rose up at regular intervals, black basalt and obsidian inlaid with gold… so much gold. As they came closer it started to hurt Estell's eyes. What was it with dwarven kings and gold? The elf started to entertain the thought Thorlond might be more than a little insane.

As small as it'd seemed at first, the royal palace eventually towered over them as they arrived at the second bridge. The Minions were uncharacteristically quiet now, and the same went for Gnarl.

Estell stepped forward – and bumped into something. Something invisible, in midair, blocking his path as unrelentingly as a brick wall.

He backed away. "What's this?"

"The island is shielded, Sire," his advisor spoke. "Hm, that was to be expected… there's a reason nobody seems to go there, why the army left us be… but is it to keep us out, or to keep something else in?"

"There's rumours about something big and dangerous in there, Master," Silt spoke quietly. "They avoid it, even his own people."

Estell placed his left hand against the invisible shield. As he strained his eyes he could just see it… slightly blue and wavy, like a luminous water surface. Then he tried his shadow hand.

It went right through.

He looked up. "…Shadow?"

His counterpart smiled slightly. "Say no more. I'll root out the source."

That turned out to be rather easy. Shadow could see it almost immediately as he soared over the black bridge, straight at the palace looming up before him like a dark dream. The lights of the seven other dwarven levels glistened above him, full of colour and life, but down here all was black save for the gold glinting in the orange light of the magma… and the pale, circular stone embedded above the main gate. He clearly felt the shield's magic deriving from this.

He floated up at it and took a good look at the artefact. It clearly didn't belong here, pale and round as it was. With a jolt he recognized elven script along the edges – this stone was from Evernight! The forest where he and Estell had been born… how had it gotten here? And why did the king rely on elven magic?

He lightly touched the stone, and promptly felt his eyes burning brighter than ever. As he'd first leant his hand to Estell he'd almost felt them scorch from their sockets, but this came close. An abrupt shiver coursed through his body… and then the stone's magic ebbed away.
He looked back. The shield around the island flickered and faded. And briefly, for but a moment, the same pale blue glow passed over the hand with which he'd touched the stone…

Shadow grinned and focused. A smoky shield formed around him, like a black soap bubble. A startled cry from far behind him told him Estell was seeing the same thing. As his counterpart came sprinting towards him, he could hear Gnarl's voice more and more clearly.

"A shield spell, Sire, this is great! Only magic can pass through!"

"You're welcome," Shadow remarked.

"Shadow, what would I be without you." Estell beamed. "This will make dominations so much easier to survive." He stepped forward with glowing eyes, through the royal palace's gates. Had they always been open? Were they being expected?

Were his plans perhaps working against him… was the king expecting them to come here? Was the Hive bait…?

"This isn't the first time things seem too easy," Gnarl muttered, as if reading his mind. "Your father was once lured into a trap by the Emperor before him, right beneath the Imperial Palace of Arcadiopolis, with the blue Hive as bait. Keep your eyes peeled."

They stepped through gargantuan black halls, completely devoid of any decoration. In a way, this was much more imposing than the golden reliefs depicting his father's and Jinx' defeats he'd seen in the fortress. This was the king's preference… nothing? Empty darkness?

"He's here," Shadow hissed. "In the palace. I can feel him."

Estell looked around nervously. In the council chamber he'd tried his best to not be intimidated by the king… but now it'd become apparent Shadow could not dominate him… and now this, combined with their ominous surroundings… "Where?"

"I…" Shadow growled. "I don't know. Everywhere. Multiple places at once." His eyes shot along the ceiling, but there was nothing to be seen; the only illumination came from strange, light magma flows along the walls, viscous and slowly streaming along with them. The ceiling was lost in utter darkness.

Estell clenched his shadow hand into a fist and tried to summon the shield. It worked, flickering and jumpy. He felt the toll it took on his magic. This was something for emergencies. They were not in an emergency yet. He tried to feel his heartbeat a bit less acutely.

Ahead, the darkness deepened. A wider hall awaited them, full of regularly spaced pillars, broad and tall like forest giants. Estell's eyes shot to and fro.

"An enemy could be hiding behind each of those, Sire," Gnarl remarked helpfully.

"I know. You're not helping."

"Sorry, Sire." A nervous laugh.

Then the jingle of little bells resounded in that darkness. Estell yanked his spear off his back. "What's that?" Behind him some Minions put up their ears and tried to look around him.

Ructa stepped closer to him.

Slightly insane laughter joined the bells. It didn't have a pleasant effect on his nerves, but Estell had to admit the whole didn't sound very dangerous… and what came dancing from behind the pillars looked rather innocent as well.

It was a brown Minion, thin and bony, but clearly not a newborn. He wore a jacket and jester's hat of blue and silvery fabric, a hat with golden bells pulling down the tips. As he came closer Estell could see his right eye didn't glow, but had a softer yellow gleam to it instead – that, too, was solid gold.

"Quaver," Gnarl uttered. "Our court jester…"

The Minion didn't look too good. He danced towards Estell and the horde, slightly convulsing at times, and giggling softly all the while. "Gold, gold, gold," he sang. "Even more gold."

Estell realized Quaver was staring at the amber gem around his wrist, and gently brought the Minion to a standstill. "No gold, Quaver. This is the amber gem. I'm your new Master."

"Amber? Gambling amber, enchanting amber." One eye glowed feverishly, the other gleamed in a way that had Estell shivering. Gold in the dark. He looked around; the hall was still only lit by flows of pale magma, thicker here. He suddenly realized they weren't magma at all, but molten gold. He now knew he'd never look at the metal the same way again… no wonder Quaver had gone mildly insane…

"Warm amber, calm amber." The jester took a deep breath, and Estell sent out a calming pulse with the jewel. The eyes turned to him. "Master?"

"Yes," Gnarl spoke instead. "This is your Master. Quaver, we're back. We're getting you out of here."

"We've come for the red Hive," Shadow spoke.

In reaction, many hoarse little voices replied from the horde, and Quaver smiled faintly as he recognized the hordes. "The Hive…" He leapt up, so suddenly Estell jolted. "The Hive! Follow me!" He grasped Estell's hand and pulled him along. "Come, come… come with me and set us free, lead us away with fire and death, with the Hive, beautifully red…"

"Does he always rhyme like this, Gnarl?"

"Most times," was the answer. "I think it's a good sign right now. Quaver, he doesn't have fire magic. You'll have to wait a bit for fire and death," he chuckled.

Pillars on both sides, endlessly fading away into the dark… but now a light dawned ahead of them. Flickering, changing… golden, like a strange subterranean sun. Estell was so fixated with this he didn't realize hallways started to his sides too, and dwarves were appearing from these. Only when they uttered surprised cries did they elf look away from the light ahead, and laid eyes on the king's personal servants – clad in blue and silver, like Quaver, and half of them armed with long spears. The other half bent under the weight of a huge metal platter full of raw meat; ribs and haunches so large they could only belong to hornbeasts. But Estell's attention was mainly with the spearmen now rushing at him. He turned his own weapon around in his hand and stepped forward. Shadow already shot from one head to the next to disorient the dwarves and briefly pit them against each other, and Estell's spear slid through blue and silver cloth and flesh like a hot knife through butter. The Minions almost weren't needed. Finally the plate clattered to the floor and the meat rolled away to all directions, and the surviving dwarves ran back into the hall. Estell and his horde remained behind.

"Blue and silver," Estell remarked. "The king was clad in black, red and gold, mainly gold…"

"Blue and silver are the colours of Kel Udos," Gnarl spoke in mild wonder. "What are those colours doing in the palace of Datan Dur? Up in the fortress everything is black and red as it should be…"

The scent of meat was overwhelming. A large part of the horde lunged at it, and the reds roasted chunks of it in their glowing hands before eating it. The browns just attacked it raw. Estell noticed their teeth were larger and more irregular than those of the reds, perhaps because the latter always ate cooked food. Ructa looked at them in amused disgust for a while, but then looked up at the Overlord. "The real question is, what was the purpose of that meat?"

"Good point." Estell looked up at the golden light. And as he looked on, a slight tremble coursed through the floor, and a faint rumble and hiss resounded…

Quaver pulled his leg again. "The Hive is there, Master."

Estell stepped forward, against everything his mind and body screamed at him. "Of course it is. Right, here we go."

Sora shielded her face against the sunlight, harsh to her, even with this watery little sun. Then she looked down and realized she herself was shining brighter in her subtly golden armour. She looked back at her weapon and smiled. She was the real sun here. And she'd see Ruborian light glint off her qala-kizh again.

She stood in one of Stodir's exits on the level of the slave market, and the fields were straight ahead of her, to the north. A winding mountain path led down to them.

She'd said her goodbyes to Uthred and Rakka in the fortress before she'd come here. The two would remain in Stodir, but Uthred had promised her he'd use his influence to help her whenever he could. It didn't seem probable to him they'd succeed in killing the king today, but later… with the strength of a full horde, perhaps the Netherworld… and maybe he'd even be able to help them reclaim that. As a high-ranking member of Datan Dur and the king's trusted friend – to a certain level – he could exert his influence over the troops and the Ruling Hammer there.

Her protector had warned her about the battle raging now, however. He'd looked out over it from the high and mighty fortress, and clearly seen the dwarves had the upper hand on the harbour battlefield. "Estell's army is playing a dangerous game," he'd said, even before she'd had the chance to tell him Estell had broken out of his cell. "They're clearly a distraction. They're not there to defeat us… they're only dancing with us, to and fro, swift as they are. I wonder where the Overlord is now." He'd roared with laughter as she'd told him of Estell's full plan. "Of course… he draws the army out, plays his little game inside, and as soon as the attention turns inward again he slips outside… he's a slippery creature, that Overlord."

A slippery creature… as Sora sprinted down the mountain path and passed a few outposts, only manned by a few bored crossbow gunners and unmanned pylandos cannons of moderate size, she had to admit she agreed. The Estell she'd seen in the fortress was very different from the Estell she'd left behind in Napata. She'd been so afraid he wouldn't make it. He'd had so little faith in himself. But whatever had happened… whoever he'd met on Maesmaer… it'd helped. There'd been a darkness about him she'd never felt before. She realized her new faith in him was founded for the first time.

The fields rose up to meet her. Green and gold, dotted all over with the browns' wooden shacks. She could see groups of Minions, working the fields, tending to sheep and hornbeasts and swine without harming them, so counterintuitive, so unnatural.
Not for long. She hoped.

They hadn't taken up her weapons. Kniff hadn't made his decision yet. But now they no longer had a choice.

"Here we go," Sora panted, shooting down like an unleashed sunbeam.

As they stepped through the passage the glow became searing, blinding, and Estell could barely see what was in front of him, here at the heart of the palace. Then his eyes started adjusting.

Gold. Mountains of gold, too high to wrap his head around, some to the ceiling; Estell had to lay back his head to see the tops. Rivers of molten gold in gullies and cascades of scorching gleam, splashing down and painting the black walls. Coins, chalices, statues, weapons, bit of armour, staves, rough chunks of ore, all piled up in disarray, so very different from his own carefully displayed treasury. It seemed as though Thorlond didn't care what shape his gold took, as long as he had as much of it as possible. The effect was strangely ominous, and the elf shivered despite the heat. "He's insane," he muttered. "He's nuts."

"Maybe that's why I couldn't dominate him." Shadow floated next to him, a welcome darkness in this all-consuming glitter. Then he abruptly looked up; a tremble had coursed through the air, completely separate from the quivering of the heat. "Estell… what is that?"

"You have nothing to fear," the elf spoke with a faint smile. "You're intangible." He looked around to his horde. "Minions, stay close. Don't fall into the gold," he added, as he saw three browns admiring their reflections in one of the calmly flowing, but lethal streams. The red with the gleaming purple top hat actually took off her headgear and dipped her horns in, so they were blindingly gilded.

They stepped forward between the golden mountains as quietly as they could, and Estell could only hope he'd learned from his adventure in the caverns beneath Maesmaer. He didn't plan on causing clinking avalanches and attracting the unwanted attention of whatever dwelled here…

…unless it caused the avalanches itself, of course.

It happened barely a hundred feet to his left, well inside the treasury. Something huge and dark emerged from behind one of the golden mountains, and a swishing tail set everything adrift…

Estell widened his eyes. "But that's…"

"…but those are extinct!" Gnarl exclaimed. "They haven't been seen since the Darklords' war, over three thousand years ago!"

"…that's a dragon," Estell finished, infinitely more calm than he felt, and absolutely unable to believe his own eyes or words.

The beast had halted, curiously sniffing the air. Black skin glistened in the golden gleam, covered in delicate scales, fading into deep hues of green and blue at the slender legs and narrow, fingerless wings. A muscular chest and short neck led up to a flattened, crested head with a toothy beak. The beast's eyes were strange; narrow, without pupils and masked with a long blue-green stripe, resembling a sharp, narrow Zola mask. They glowed right at Estell, brighter than the gold, almost white-hot. Between those eyes was a golden shard, strangely misplaced on the glistening black skin.

Then the beast rushed forward, all those tons of flaming muscle…

Estell widened his eyes and clenched his fist without thinking. The shield spell flared around him, globular and impenetrable to the fire that was inevitably coming now…

The dragon reared up, opened her beak with a sharp hiss… and spat. A clear fluid splashed against the smoky shield and the gold around Estell's feet, and small amounts rained down on the horde behind him. Estell lowered his arms as the heat and searing glow of fire didn't come, and then looked back. His Minions were screaming. Around his feet the stricken gold turned black. An elegant chalice withered away on itself and was then eaten away in great round bites…

This dragon didn't breathe fire, but acid. That wasn't necessarily good news.

"Shadow," he uttered, as his Minions backed away and the wounded were taken care of by the blues. The dragon followed the horde with keen eyes, and the Minions picked up the pace. They'd fought their way down through Stodir with pure reckless abandon, but they hadn't counted on this. "Shadow, dominate her!"

His counterpart shook off his own stupor and shot forward, but something stopped him before he reached the dragon's head. He fell back reeling. "Doesn't work," he uttered, shocked. "Estell, am I losing my touch?"

"You had no trouble controlling the mechs," the elf shouted. He ran around the dragon, struggling to keep up his flickering shield. "Browns, with me!"

The Minions were clearly afraid, but the browns obeyed him. A few of them had already introduced themselves on the way down, and thanks to their wildly varying headgear the Overlord could keep them apart even easier than the other clans. "Scraps, aim for the eyes." The young Minion with the crossbow nodded and scrambled up a nearby gold pile to get above the dragon. "Raglam, Lash, on her back. See if she has weak spots." The duo, both equipped with mushroom caps on their heads, ran beneath the blue-green legs and climbed up along black flanks. The dragon started turning to snap at them, but Estell leapt forward himself too, stabbing at her lower jaw. His blue spearhead shot away, as did the arrows Scraps let fly now; even if he did hit her eyes, the dragon simply blinked and the crossbow bolts ricocheted off her eyelids. Then she reared up again, flapped wildly and blew him down. She opened her beak again, and Estell wildly rolled away to avoid the acid – he couldn't keep up the shield like this.

He looked up. The Minions on her back didn't have much success either; the scales were small, but as good as impenetrable, in any case to the short axe and the kitchen knife the two browns carried. Scraps' arrows hadn't found any weak spots either.

He gazed into the white-hot eyes. Then his own eyes found the golden shard, sharply glowing against her black forehead. Gold in the dark. "The shard!" he shouted. "Raglam, Lash, the shard!"

The two immediately moved towards the dragon's head, and Lash put his knife beneath the gold. Briefly Estell thought he could hear a cry, so low-pitched, so deep he felt it rather than heard it… then the golden shard clattered down amidst a chaotic collection of coins and crested helmets.

The dragon froze to a complete standstill. Raglam and Lash desperately clung to her head.
Then the white-hot eyes slowly turned down to the shard. A furious, hissing growl echoed through the treasury… and a flood of acid descended on the treasure, darkening it and making it wither as if a sickness rested on it. The dragon used far more acid now than when she'd still worn the shard… Estell backed off slightly and called his Minions. The horde re-joined him, and the duo on the dragon's head dropped off and ran around her, giving her a very wide berth. The beast raged so wildly she scarcely seemed to notice. She hated that shard, that much was clear.

"Estell? That was no normal gold." Shadow looked on from just over his shoulder. "It wasn't magical, but…"

"It wasn't on her forehead for nothing," Estell nodded. In a flash Thorlond's crown came to mind, irregularly shaped and with glittering holes along the entire circumference, as if angular shards had been removed from it… shards similar in size to the one now being eaten away by the dragon's acid.

Then, as abruptly as it'd started, the dragon ceased her aggression towards the gold, and her eyes flashed back up to Estell. There was even more purpose in those white depths than before.

"Estell…" Shadow started, but the elf slowly shook his head and shifted his spear around in his hand.

"No. I want her. Permanently." He sprinted forward, his shield back up, his shadow hand outstretched…

But the dragon gave a furious hiss and reared up as he got too close, and he wasn't agile enough to avoid her as she swept her wings off her back and hit him so hard he landed in the nearest pile of gold so harshly his breath was knocked from his lungs. He rolled over, and almost into a broad, viscous stream. He was almost turned into the world's most expensive corpse… but then he pushed off with the back of his weapon, and tried his hand at another attempt. If only he could touch her…

The tail scythed his legs away. The paws knocked him out of the way. The whirlwind of her wings forced him down. And every time the dragon airily leapt away, sometimes flew a little way, and rained down acid on him and the horde. The Minions sped out of the way, but the blues were very much needed too. At times such amounts came down the victims were beyond saving, but a few newborns also seemed very proud of their first scars and holes in their ears.

"Quit messing around, Sire! You're needed on the fields! Think of the Hive!"

"The Hive…" He looked around wildly, but only saw glittering gold. "No time! I'll worry about it in a minute!" He swore as the dragon descended before him hissing and spitting, and shielded himself just in time. "If only I could get those wings to…" He smacked his forehead. "Minions!"

The horde flocked to him, still wildly on the move to avoid the acid. By now they stood in the middle of a blackened, withered battlefield amidst the golden hills. If they survived this, the king would certainly want their heads.

"To her back! To her wings!" He gestured wildly, then rolled away below a swishing tail.

The hordes obeyed, and more Minions than ever flowed to the dragon together. Many of them were whacked aside or eaten immediately, but other took their places, and a few managed to hold on as the dragon leapt away. The flying seemed to be harder already with these Minions hanging from the membrane, and as she landed more joined them. Reds slowly scorched through the skin, and the hot, trembling air soon whistled through holes.

"No worries, Sire, the blues will heal that in the blink of an eye," Gnarl assured him. "She'll fly effortlessly again soon."

The beast wildly jumped around, but didn't manage to get airborne again; not for more than a few seconds at a time. Estell nodded with a slight smile, tightened his hand around his weapon, and stepped forward. He jumped out of the way of the tail and wings – Scraps' heavy crossbow barely missed his head as the Minion desperately clung to the membrane – dove beneath a claw, and shielded himself with a brief, smoky flicker as the dragon spat acid at him. She landed on her forelimbs and wings and stared at him, a low rattle in her throat, seemingly wondering how to get rid of him. Then her black jaws lunged at him, far more swiftly than Estell could've foreseen. He just had the time to outstretch a hand, reflexively, and for a fraction of a second he saw that hand be lost all over again, bones splintered and sticking from the stump like broken twigs…

Then shadowy fingers closed around her tongue, and he and Shadow flashed away from the world.

What they found on the inside of the darkly scaled, angular dragon's head rather surprised them. There was no darkness here, no enormous treasure to guard, no fire or lakes of magma or even any trace of acid. They'd arrived on a grassy mountainside, strewn with pale flowers, and the dragon lay before them – smaller than in the real world, younger. She raised her head, and white eyes leered at them playfully.

Dragon? Shadow inquired uncertainly.

"She's… young? In spirit?"

She can't defend herself very well, mentally. Even the crabs gave us more trouble. Shadow manifested smoke along their sides. Maybe she's just… not very smart?

"We'll have to ask Gnarl." Estell blinked as the dragon rose and spread her wings, curiously looking at them as if surprised they were working again. In the real world the Minions still clung to them, and they were full of holes…

She dodged their controlling smoke twice, fast as lightning, but Estell and Shadow didn't have the impression she was serious. The dragon didn't realize what they were here for. The dragon just wanted to play… maybe the same had been true in the real world? In any case after they'd removed the golden shard…

Then their dark magic enveloped her completely, and the dragon's pale eyes briefly stared at them through the smoke before they closed.

They emerged back in the real world with laboured breathing. Not much time had passed; Minions still dropped down from the deep green wings, to land in the gold sliding and clinking. Many of them stared at Shadow with wide eyes. "It's okay," he smiled. "This is just how we do things."

"That easy?" Gnarl sounded surprised. "Well, I've always heard dragons are ten tonnes of flaming muscle powered by a brain the size of a gooseberry…"

"It seems that's true." Estell stepped towards the dragon and laid his good hand along the beak. White-hot eyes looked at him with affection, and the creature was actually purring. He smiled. "The dwarves didn't think we'd survive the palace. Probably because of this beauty. Well…"

"…they hadn't met you yet," Gnarl chuckled. "But now you must hurry, Sire. Look for the Hive."

They walked on through the treasury, between disorienting landscapes of gold. There wasn't a single other material present, not a single gem. It started to feel like the Ruborian desert; endless golden dunes. But even those were broken by rock formations at times, or changed colour in the fiery light of sunset, or the silver gleam of moonlight. This treasury always bathed in the same unchanging glow…

And then a massive golden dais came to sight, topped off with something finally breaking the endless golden monotony. The Hive; basalt black, covered in trumpet-shaped, deep red openings.

The reds ran towards it, chittering in elation with their little hoarse voices. Sear beamed next to Estell, and the Overlord perked up as well. Finally – one of the two things they'd actually come to Stodir for. He felt as if time was starting to run out on him, and it was a relief to be able to take at least one Hive home with him…

…if he indeed could.

"Ructa? Can you sing a gate here?"

The plant singer frowned and looked around. "No earth. No, that'll be hard…"

"But there's no good spot outside the palace either…"

"Sire?"

Estell looked down. Quaver stood next to him, looking up with his two similarly coloured, but very different eyes. The solid golden eye rolled in its socket listlessly, and Estell wondered how heavy and uncomfortable it had to be. "Quaver, get an eye patch," he remarked. "Better for the socket."

"Scabies would keelhaul me, Sire, we Minions don't steal each other's styles." Before Estell could ask what he meant by this, the jester spoke on. "Can those gates be opened on water?"

Estell looked at Ructa questioningly. She thought about it. "We can always try."

"Follow me, Sire."

Maraxus: A dragon. He fought, and now controls… a dragon.

Gnarl: Didn't see that one coming did you?

Maraxus: Oh come on, like you did either.

Gnarl: True, it's not like you see a dragon every other day.

Maraxus: I have no idea what to expect now. So we'll bring it to a stop for now and resume this battle next week. Please review and we'll see you then.