Chapter 1

"How much further?" the young man groaned, his breath coming in short rasps. The boy walking by his side laughed.

"You can't be tired already, Eric! We only rested a couple of hours ago!"

Eric looked sourly at the boy, wiping sweat soaked hair from his forehead. "Easy for you to say, Bobby. You're not the one wearing plate armour."

"Think of it as character building," a female voice interjected. Eric tutted and rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Wow, he must be tired. Maybe we should take a break," a second female voice opined, quiet and gentle. Eric turned to them.

"Don't worry about me, ladies," he said between gasps. "You'll find that this cavalier is."

Eric's sentence ended abruptly as he collapsed in a noisy heap onto the dusty ground. The two girls rushed to him as Bobby sniggered.

"Stop it, Bobby," the gentle voiced girl reprimanded, her voice pleading rather than stern. She turned to the other girl. "Is he okay, Diana?"

The dark-skinned girl tapped Eric briskly on the side of his face. "C'mon, cavalier," she said with a smirk. Finish your sentence!"

Eric's eyelids fluttered. "I don't feel so good."

His friends had all gathered round now, expressions ranging from amusement to annoyance, and in Sheila's case, concern.

"We don't have time for this," Hank said with a bite of impatience. "We're stuck in the open in unfamiliar territory."

"Well, I'm so sorry, almighty leader," Eric began, standing uneasily. "But some of us didn't make the team, and some of us are wearing nearly twice our weight in metal. Perhaps-"

"Perhaps you should stop whining," Hank said shortly.

"Please don't fight," Sheila said in a small voice. It had been like this a lot lately; Eric and Hank had been at each other's throats for weeks now. It seemed like they were taking their frustration at being stuck in this world out on each other, with the others stuck in the middle. Hank was finding the mantle of leadership hard to bear, particularly when his friends made stupid mistakes. They had all made them, it was just that Eric's were more frequent and more spectacular than the others were, the signalling of the most evil multi-dimensional entity being the icing on the cake. Sheila suspected that it was down to Eric's upbringing; he had always been known as a spoilt rich kid, never respecting other people's advice or requests. It was a mindset he had struggled to escape from, but with limited success.

Still, Sheila knew that Hank was just venting some anger rather than showing leadership right now; Eric did whine, but he was finding the climate and terrain difficult, and given his uniform, it was entirely understandable. Unfortunately, neither of the young men seemed to be in much of a mind to listen to her pleas.

"Whining, am I?" Eric said, his voice rising. "Well, if I'm whining, I may as well make a proper job of it. I'm sick of this world. I'm sick of having to lug this stupid armour, and this stupid shield, around every godforsaken landscape this world can throw at us!"

"Well-"

"I'M NOT FINISHED!" Eric bellowed, cutting Hank off. "I'm sick of listening to you, blindly following Dungeonmaster around, never realising the obvious; we are never going to get home! Not on his advice!"

Diana put an arm around Sheila as she began to sob. "That's enough, Eric," she said softly, but Eric waved a hand dismissively.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought it! That little creep is hiding something! We didn't get here by accident, something had to have brought us here! Tell me this," Eric began, his voice dropping in volume. "How are we supposed to get home if we don't know why we're here?"

Presto and Diana looked at each other; they had evidently also harboured such thoughts. Hank looked upwards and sighed.

"Eric, Dungeonmaster is the only guide we have in this place. He may be cryptic, and he may even be selective with the full facts sometimes, but what would we do without him?"

"Hank's right," Sheila said.

"There's a surprise," Eric muttered sarcastically.

"But you are too," she said, shooting a guilty glance at Hank. "You're both right. How many times have we nearly got home?"

The others looked at each other uncomfortably. Presto shrugged, and Sheila looked down, tears glittering on her lashes.

"We've been so close, so many times; if Venger doesn't destroy the portal, then there are strings attached-"

"Yeah, like 'go home and ensure the destruction of an entire world'," Eric said gloomily. The he admitted, "Even though I hate this place, I couldn't live with that on my conscience."

"There have been times," Presto said quietly, "that I've thought we should just hand over the weapons to Venger on the condition he sent us home, if he could."

The others looked shocked, but Presto merely shrugged with a faint smile. "We were dragged into this world and expected to fight. No one asked us."

Eric nodded fervently. "That's right. We were just kitted up in these stupid outfits and sent on one wild goose chase after another. We don't owe this world, or Dungeonmaster, anything. He owes us answers."

"That's enough," Hank said, but his voice lacked conviction. "The people of this world trust Dungeonmaster, and we should too. Yes, we've gotten close to home but never quite made it, but if it wasn't for Dungeonmaster, we wouldn't have even got that far."

To everyone's surprise, Eric nodded in agreement. "That's true," he sighed. "I just wish that our only ally in this crappy world wasn't some midget that won't give us a straight answer."

"I'm sorry if I have been unreasonably cryptic," a voice chimed in, and Eric grimaced at the predictable chorus of 'Dungeonmaster!' All the kids looked uncomfortable, however, wondering how much their mentor may have heard. The diminutive mage smiled easily, however.

"I fear that I am only going to add to your anguish," he said, a touch dryly. "She who sleeps in a prison of her own making must be awoken, by one whose heart has not yet been claimed."

"Riiight," Eric said, rolling his eyes. "Where and when?"

"The where," Dungeonmaster said gravely, "Is in the blue city of Ethron, to the north of these plains. The when," he continued, "is as soon as possible, for she may be able to return you to your homeworld. But beware, for Ethron and its surrounding lands are governed by Venger."

The youngsters looked at each other in alarm; they had fought Venger many times, but had always avoided the lands he had dominion over.

"So who's this woman we've-"

Hank realised he was addressing thin air; Dungeonmaster was gone. Eric smirked unpleasantly.

"Now there's a surprise," he said. He looked at the others. "Well, I suppose we'll just have to do what the man says.but not before a break, okay? This heat's killing me."