"What is this?" Ostrava asked. He had returned to Boletaria with Alvira and was standing in front of two large, wooden doors that separated the town square from the elites' housing quarters. When they'd opened the doors, they'd been faced with an impenetrable wall of fog. Ostrava stuck his hand inside and his eyes widened in disbelief as it was completely submerged. He quickly yanked it back out and whirled around in a panic.

"What do we do now? There is no way we can possibly make it through that!"

Alvira nodded her head in agreement. "It seems for now that traversing through Boletaria won't be an option. Perhaps we could seek guidance from the Monumental?"

Ostrava turned, just enough to give the woman beside him a sidelong glance through his visor. "The what?"

"The Monumental," Alvira repeated, as if that clarified anything. Ostrava shook his head, relaying to her that he still hadn't the slightest idea what she meant. However, she seemed undeterred by his cluelessness. "It would be easier, I think, if I introduced you."

"Very well," he said. "Lead the way."

By the time they made it to the Nexus' third floor, Ostrava was sweating and panting like a dog. He stopped on the final step, hunched over, placed his hands on his knees, and fought to regain his breath. Alvira halted and cocked her head, ever the symbol of patience. Ostrava looked up at her, and though he could not see her expression through her helmet, he could imagine it. His face burned with embarrassment as he straightened his back and rolled his shoulders.

"Ah… sorry about that," he murmured.

"Would you like to take a break?" Alvira asked.

"No, no, it is quite all right; surely the Monumental is not far now?"

"We still have one more set of stairs to take." Alvira pointed behind him and Ostrava's jaw dropped as he noticed the long staircase that had been built into the wall.

"You have got to be kidding me," he groaned.

Ostrava was practically crawling up the stairs by the time they made it to the top. Alvira was thankful for her helmet as she could not stifle a sly smile at the poor man's expense. To his credit, he did manage to pull himself together fairly quickly and they made the walk around the balcony of the Nexus' upper floor unperturbed. Ostrava was both intrigued and slightly disturbed by the doll-like figures slouching against the wall with their heads drooped against their chests. Each of them had a candle set before them that had long since burned out. He was startled when they finally came upon one that addressed Alvira, though they were as motionless as the rest.

"Greetings, Slayer of Demons," the Monumental said to her in a soft, childlike voice. They seemed to pay little to no heed to Ostrava's presence.

"Greetings, Monumental," she replied, respectfully bowing her head to them. "I come to you seeking answers in my plight against the demons."

"I shall answer as best as I am able."

Alvira sat cross-legged before the Monumental and Ostrava noticed that this one's candle was the only one that was still lit. He regarded the figure strangely. Like the others, they were doll-like in appearance with little in the way of facial expressiveness and unblinking grey eyes. Their body was covered by a simple, beige wool robe, and their bald head likewise adorned with a wool cap. A strange energy seemed to radiate from them, but it did not strike Ostrava as malicious or threatening. Still, he watched the Monumental warily as they conversed with Alvira.

"There is a deep fog blocking our path to the Boletarian keep," Alvira explained. "My companion, Ostrava, wishes to travel there, but we do not know how to proceed with this obstacle barring our way."

The Monumental was silent for a moment, then they said, "Boletaria is most aggrieved by the scourge of the demons. I fear there may not be much left to find there."

At this, Ostrava turned cold and descended quickly to the ground on hands and knees so that he could be eye-level with the Monumental. "Surely not all is lost?" he pleaded. "There must be something we can do! Please, I must break through that fog at all costs!"

The Monumental ignored Ostrava's desperate pleas and once more fell into silence. Ostrava clenched his fists and rose to his feet, head hung low in defeat, eyes unfocused as he stared at the nearly lifeless avatar before him. Alvira looked upon him empathetically yet could conjure no words to comfort him. Eventually, the Monumental spoke again.

"There may still be a way to pierce the fog," they started. "Boletaria's outlying territories are not yet as affected by the scourge of the demons. Halt their progression and you may yet push it back."

Ostrava's neck snapped up and his eyes glowed alight with hope. Alvira nodded to the Monumental in understanding, stood up and bowed to them again. "Thank you, Monumental. You have been of great assistance to me."

"Farewell, Slayer of Demons," they replied monotonously, lidless eyes aimed towards the distance. Alvira gestured for Ostrava to follow and led him back the way they had come. As they walked across the balcony, his curiosity of the other Monumentals piqued.

"Alvira, why do none of these Monumentals speak?" he inquired.

Without looking at him, she answered, "Because they have long since perished."

"Oh…" he stated sadly.

"The Monumental we spoke to is the only one left," she told him.

"And what exactly is the Monumental?"

Alvira stopped and thought for a moment. "The Monumental is a vessel for a greater entity, so to speak. When the Old One was first awakened, the Monumentals were but men that came together to lull It back to slumber. Those that remained alive after Its defeat transcended to a form beyond humanity and became extraordinarily powerful. The Old One had done so much damage to the world that the very fabric of reality began to tear, so the Monumentals committed themselves to holding it together for the sake of us all."

Suddenly, Ostrava grew fearful as he scanned all the dead Monumentals lining the balcony. "Alvira, if that is true and they are the only one left, what will happen to the world if they too pass?"

"I suspect the world will fall apart," Alvira stated simply and shrugged. Ostrava nearly swooned.

"You are not afraid of that happening?" he asked after regaining some of his composure.

"No." She started walking towards the stairs again and got several feet away before Ostrava noticed. He hurried after her and easily caught up.

"How can you not be frightened?"

"The Monumental is not as frail and helpless as they first appear, Ostrava. Remember, they are an entity of not only great power, but knowledge and experience that is beyond our understanding. They have defeated the Old One before, and I do believe they will do so again."

Ostrava, who had been noticeably tense, relaxed as she spoke. He greatly admired her confidence as well as her strength and wished in these dire times that he could exhibit such laudable qualities. His eyes were focused intently on her before she turned and beckoned him forward.

"Come," she said. "We have business to attend to."

Alvira and Ostrava had made it to the bottom floor of the Nexus (coming down had been considerably less exhausting than going up) and now stood in front of the Archstone of the Burrow King. The archstone depicted a dwarf carved from malachite; in his right hand he held a hammer and set before him was a table with a precious green gemstone that served as the center of the piece. Beneath him were workers toiling with pickaxes and hammers. Alvira ran her gauntleted hand over the archstone and it hummed weakly in response. Ostrava stepped closer and allowed her to slip her hand into his, and soon they found themselves on the side of a gigantic mountain, its rock so red that it looked to be stained with blood. The red stone seemed to seep into the sky, painting it with scarlet hues. The faint ting of pickaxes against stone could be heard in the distance, and further up the mountain, small plumes of black smoke were being expelled from deeper within. There was an uncanny silence about the place that made Ostrava nervous.

Alvira unhooked her halberd from its clasp on her back and held her oak talisman in her other hand. Ostrava already had his ornamental sword bared and his shield half-raised warily as they walked along a bridge that lead into the mouth of Stonefang's mountain. The sounds of the pickaxes steadily became louder as they inched closer.

All about them mining and smithing equipment was discarded haphazardly, some of it destroyed beyond repair. Piles of useless rock and rubble were lined along the walls. There were stray carts filled with freshly mined coal and iron strewn about the place. A huge, stone furnace was lit in the corner with nobody attending it, but at the moment it served as the only source of light. Next to the furnace a few rickety looking anvils had been crammed together. To their left, right, and directly ahead of them were large, brick-lined tunnels leading into different sections of the mine.

They crept through the room carefully, avoiding stray objects as best they could. Despite his best efforts, Ostrava stepped on the head of a shovel, which flung upwards under his weight and smacked against his greave with a loud clang. Ostrava howled out in surprise more than pain and the noise echoed down each adjoining tunnel. Both Ostrava and Alvira froze as the sounds of mining ceased and a low groan traveled out of the right tunnel. Another one was heard up ahead, and soon there were multiple coming from many different directions all at once.

From the right, a pair of glowing, yellow eyes pierced the relative darkness of the tunnel and immediately locked onto them. It started hobbling over to them slowly and was soon followed by another. There were more pouring out of the tunnels to the left and ahead of them. Alvira held her halberd out defensively as the figures slowly surrounded them from all sides. As they came into the light, Alvira noted that these were not humans they were contending with, but scale men, which were shaped like humans, but had a tough, nearly impenetrable hide made of stone scales. The demons had been busy here as all these scale men were clearly soul-starved.

Ostrava was panicking. His breathing was out of control, his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest, and he was shaking like a leaf in a storm. He had his shield held out and was crouched awkwardly behind it so that his head was protected. The animalistic moaning and growling of the scale men was now filling the room as they closed in on them. Ostrava let out a high-pitched whimper as one of them grabbed his shield and tried to wrench it away from him. Then, suddenly, Alvira whirled her halberd around in a 360-degree motion that sent all the nearby scale men flying through the air. Ostrava was still trying to catch his breath when Alvira grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him in the direction of the northern tunnel.

While the scale men were durable, they certainly were not quick on their feet. As Alvira and Ostrava pounded through the tunnel, more of the scale men rounded on them, but were unable to keep pace as they barreled past them. All the tunnels looked the same: lined with brick, leading into a junction that lead to more tunnels. Alvira was hopelessly lost, but she kept running, pulling the bewildered Ostrava behind her as she went. She had no choice; if she stopped, they would be overwhelmed.

They finally came into a clearing with a large elevator that had been piled with loaded crates. Alvira flung Ostrava onto the elevator unceremoniously, causing him to lose his balance and crash to the ground. She grabbed at the rusted pulley that operated the elevator and yanked it desperately, and at first it refused to give. With a little more effort, she managed to move it, and slowly the elevator sunk into the darkened depths of the mines. The pulley grinded in her hands as she turned it, but the more she did so, the easier it became as the worst of the rust chipped away. She could scarcely hear the scale men growling and grunting above them; they even hurled rocks at them as the elevator made its way downwards.

The further down they went, the darker it became, until eventually they reached the bottom of the elevator shaft. It hit the ground with a loud thud. All around it was pitch black and neither Alvira nor Ostrava's eyes could pierce the darkness. However, the augite on Alvira's belt made just enough light to see in a small circle around their feet. Alvira took Ostrava's hand so that they would not lose each other and began feeling around the room gingerly with her free hand. There were many loaded minecarts and tables clustered together that they both struggled not to trip over, but it didn't take long for her to find the wall, indicating that they were in a relatively small room. She negotiated around the room until she came suddenly to an open space and tumbled forward. She would have kept her balance had Ostrava not bumped into her and sent them both plummeting to the floor.

Alvira had landed on her back and Ostrava fell across her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and causing her to gasp and sputter. Ostrava had banged his head against his helmet and was groaning in pain, slightly out of sorts. It was only when Alvira tapped his back that he came to and realized his indecent position. He quickly scrambled to his feet and apologized profusely while helping her up. She was readjusting her bow in its sling when a subtle noise hit her ear between Ostrava's frantic cries for forgiveness.

"Wait!" she whispered, and he halted abruptly. "I think I hear something."

Ostrava's heart dropped into his stomach when he heard the noise, too. It was a low, chittering sound, followed by a hissy exhalation. It was the sound of breathing, though it clearly did not originate from a human.

"I hear it as well," Ostrava said, desperately trying to keep his voice down as fear bubbled within him. "Damn it all, if only we could see!"

Alvira took Ostrava's hand again and began down the new corridor they had found. The noise was getting louder the further they went, but they needed to find a torch or something, so they didn't have to stumble around in the dark like fools.

As they reached the end of the corridor, Ostrava felt as if cold fingers were creeping slowly up his spine. The sounds they had heard earlier had stopped and all had gone deathly quiet. While Alvira was distracted with trying to find a light source, Ostrava saw over her shoulder that eight beady red eyes opened and pivoted in their direction.

Before Ostrava could say or do anything to warn Alvira, a fireball had been hurled at them. He screamed and ducked below it, and Alvira instinctively dove forward when she heard the blast fired. The fireball impacted with some loaded crates and lit their contents with an explosive force, creating more than enough light for them to see the foe before them.

The demon was a giant, black spider with an armored exoskeleton that gleamed in the light of the burning fire. A thin, clear fluid dripped from its giant fangs that Alvira could only assume was lethally poisonous. Its legs extended about the entire chamber and the room was encased in a thick webbing, nullifying any attempt at getting around the creature to search for weak spots. The Armor Spider gnashed its teeth and let out an odd, high-pitched growl at the trespassers. Just as Alvira and Ostrava attempted to rise off the ground, it sent another fireball at them, forcing them back down.

"How are we even going to get near it?" Ostrava cried as it spat yet another volley of fireballs at them.

"Crawl!" Alvira yelled back. "If we remain still, it will kill us!"

"It will do the same if we move closer!" Ostrava argued.

Then, Ostrava screamed and slammed his head against the ground, trying to lower himself more as a wave of fire washed over his back. He heard a deceptively calm crackling sound, followed by a bang that momentarily blinded him with white light. He could feel molten heat at his back, meaning their only escape route was now entirely impassable. Death was upon him once more, only: would he choose to throw himself to the flames, or would he fight for his life and die with honor?

The demon screeched, and in that moment, Ostrava preferred to let himself burn.

Only, Alvira grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the gargantuan, soul-eating monstrosity. Despite the flames licking his heels, he resisted, trying to slink backwards away from the beast.

"It's okay, Ostrava."

Ostrava blinked through the ash and cinder, gaze falling to his silver-clad partner. Though her eyes could not be seen, he could feel the determination in her powerful grip.

"I won't let you die."

Those words were spoken with such strength, such conviction, that he could not deny their truth. This woman didn't know him at all, and yet she had protected him from death twice, nearly sacrificing herself to do so. Not only that, but she had pledged herself to his cause, an entirely selfish endeavor. She would slay demons for him.

"… Why?"

The question was drowned beneath the demon's manic shrieking. It was restless, desperate, hungry. Its teeth grated at them as they drew ever closer, acid-like saliva dripping from its maw at the prospect of devouring them both.

"I cannot believe you convinced me to crawl towards this thing and not away from it!" Ostrava complained to himself as they cleared the tunnel and entered the junction. Both he and Alvira shot to their feet as the Armor Spider stamped down its two long front legs angrily. The beast seethed and hissed as Alvira charged and hacked uselessly at its legs, her halberd merely bouncing off them. She didn't like it, but she was going to have to go for the demon's head and look for a soft spot or a chink in its armor.

To her left, Ostrava was struggling with the spider's other front leg. It was raising and dropping it on him in a fast series of blows and the poor knight was barely dodging each strike. He was backing himself up into a corner and managed to get his leg caught in some webbing. When he tried to pull free, he found his struggles only worsened his situation as more of the sticky strings got stuck to him. He swung his sword furiously at the silken strands, but his weapon was merely too dull to cut them. He heard the spider hiss and spit as it brought its leg down again on its ensnared prey. He closed his eyes tight, held his arms protectively over his head and clenched his jaw so hard that he became dizzy.

Alvira lunged forward, swiftly cut through the webbing with the sharpened blade of her halberd and pushed Ostrava out of the way. However, there wasn't enough time for her to escape, and the Armor Spider's leg pierced right through her back and into her chest, leaving her impaled upon it. She dropped her halberd to the ground and uselessly tried to wrench the spider's leg free from her body. Her ears started to ring, and her vision became blurry as she choked on her own blood. She could vaguely hear Ostrava yelling her name as consciousness quickly drained from her. Soon her heart stilled in her chest, her limbs went limp, and she slipped away into death's familiar embrace.