Dungeon Deep, Dungeon Blood

2

"Why don't you jussssst kill him Lordnessss?" Lissard slurred into his master's ear. The plan had gone better than Lord Fear had hoped. The old fool had barged into the dungeon and straight into his trap. A magical cage had been waiting for him in the very first room of level one! Once Treguard had stepped into to it...bang! He was his prisoner. Lord Fear had used a similar spell to trap Hordriss. However, there were no snotty dungeoneers to release Treguard. The best part though was seeing the old fools face as he transformed Sidriss back into Lissard. How he had laughed!

"Because there are rules even I cannot break." Lord Fear said irritably. Not that he hadn't tried. A nice slow death with gloating and a large side of sadism thrown in. However since he was a senior mage as Treguard suffered he could feel the dungeon becoming unstable. Treguard was the Dungeonmaster, it could not or more probably would not exist without him.

"But Lordnesss..." Lissard insisted. Lord Fear sighed.

"The Dungeon needs a Dungeonmaster and Treguard is it. Clear?"

"No."

"Well tough."

"Doesss this mean the dungeon will remain closssssed Lordness?" Lord Fear considered.

"Well, however unlikely it may be if the Powers that Be re-united they might just be powerful enough to open the way."

"They might be provoked to act if they findsss out you have the dongeonmassstersss lordnesss."

"Yes." Lord Fear said thoughtfully. It would surprise many of the Powers that Be that the tower of Marblehead actually had a library. With books. This was Lord Fear and Lissard were now. Lord Fear was feeling particularly grumpy at having to do research, but unfortunately it was necessary. He knew the information existed, it was a question of where to find it. Whilst he would usually use his underlings to perform this kind of research, he didn't trust they they wouldn't miss something relevant. Besides he wasn't sure most of his employee's could read. He had found a very promising line of enquiry. Sadly he had to send Sylvester Hands to follow it up, but if it turned out well, he would have a more permanent way to ensuring Treguard's co-operation.

A lone rider on a dusty road approached the small collection of houses. The sun was sinking in the sky, bathing the landscape in a warm red glow. It had been a hot day. The sun shone unrelentingly on the already baked soil. On either side of the dirt track traversed by the rider, fields of golden corn swayed in the minute breeze. It was clear to the rider that these fields hadn't seen a drop of rain for some time and the farmers tending the fields were worried the crop would be spoiled. The horse's hooves kicked up dust from the ground, both horse and rider were covered with a thin layer. At the edge of the village the rider reigned in the horse, and spent a little time surveying the area. Smoke issued from thatched roofs, mud covered walls and small fences partitioning small tracts of land on which the inhabitants let their animals freely roam. The houses also grew their own food, it was either that or starve. In the distance the rider spotted a sign, a crudely drawn hand painted sign that signified the house it was outside was an Inn of some sort. An Inn was the best place to start as it was usually the centre for gossip and news. Gently kicking the horse into movement, the rider made towards it.

The interior of the Inn was quite small, and yet a surprising number of people had managed to crowd into it. Most were labourers who worked the land, they had finished a hard days work and jostled the busy innkeeper for more ale. Hot days were good for him, it meant the labourers would spend more money to quench their thirst.

"Oi!" One of them, the worse for drink, shouted above the noise. Although the inn was small, it had a sort of bar, behind which Elfrid, the innkeeper, kept most of his alcohol. The barrier had been useful, more than once, in separting him from the more enthusiastic of his clientelle. He rolled his eyes and stopped just in front of the speaker.

"Yes?" He asked genially. The labourer gave him a conspiratorial look and leaned forward. "Who's that?" He asked, not very quietly. He was referring to a stranger who had come in a few hours earlier. He had caught Elfrid attention not just because he had arrived on foot, but his unusual garb. Apart from a long grey cloak, the stranger had dressed primarily in green. He'd paid for a small bottled of wine and had kept to the corner of the room ever since.

"Not sure." Elfrid replied. "Looks like he's trying to drown his sorrows though." Now he came to think about it. There had been something unusual about the man, his forehead crinkled as he tried to remember what it was. When the man had removed the hood of his cloak something had stuck him about his appearance. Now the man was sitting in the shadows he was damned if he could remember what it was.

The door was pushed open and dead quiet fell in the middle of a word. A tall, slim figure stood in the doorway. It was impossible to tell what the figure looked like as the setting sun was behind them. The figure appeared to survey the crowded inn, his gaze seemed to linger on the corner where the stranger sat. Then the figure stepped in removing the cloak's hood. Elfrid could see her properly now. A tall slim woman, with short black hair. Soft brown leather boots failed to make any noise on the dirt floor. Her gear looked expensive. She carried a bow on her back and had leather epaulets embossed with a celtic knot and edged with blue. The arm guard she wore matched the epaulets and marked her out as an archer. A more obvious sign was the quiver she wore at her belt. On the other side sheathed in a leather holster was a long knife. She wore trousers, also with a celtic knot design, which was not such a rare sight, but to see her so obviously armed caused the patrons of the inn to stare. She had a grim, icy expression on her face as though she had judged everyone in the room and disapproved. As she made her way to the bar, she could feel many eyes on her. Gradually however the noise level returned to normal. Elfridd approached the woman. He was unsure as to how to proceed.

"Can I help you miss?" He asked trying to sound as haughty as possible. The woman gave him an amber stare which reminded him of the expression his cat wore before it scratched him.

"I am looking for Dun forest." The woman had a deep voice that seemed to be full of quiet command. Purposefully she put a gold coin on the bar in front of him. He went to take it, her hand caught his by the wrist and held his hand firmly. Despite himself he was impressed, the young woman was strong.

"Dun forest?" He repeated. He frowned, the name struck a note with him, but he couldn't remember what it was. It felt like meeting someone he hadn't seen for some time, but simply couldn't remember their name. The woman sighed and released the man's wrist. The look of confusion on the man's face was becoming a familiar sight. As soon as she asked for Dun forest, a blank look would cloud their gaze.

"I would like a room for the night and stabling for my horse." She told the him. Elfrid suddenly looked happier. The conversation had turned to business, a subject he was much surer on. The gold coin she had given him would more than cover it, he told her. She also took some wine and settled in a corner of the inn. After a while, it seemed that the occupants of the inn had forgotten her presence. They would glance about and even though they seemed to look straight at the her, they couldn't see her. The woman took a long draft of wine. She felt the alcohol course through her veins relaxing her limbs and soothing her mind. How was it possible to lose an entire forest? She wondered. Maybe it wasn't exactly on the scale on Sherwood, which covered a sizeable amount of England, but it was still a forest. Rivers ran through it, there were villages in it, it should be quite hard to lose track of. Yet there seemed to be no sign of it. Asking for directions so far had not yielded any positive results. She had been riding for a number of days, yet there seemed to be no sign of it. True, all she had was the forest name, it was possible she was looking in the wrong area. Her researches however had lead her to believe that the forest was nearby. She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes briefly. It had been a long day, which had followed a number of days, now stretching into weeks in which she had had no success. People she met on the road would not talk to her. Farmers had had a bad season the previous year and needed this years crop to be bountiful so they would be too busy to talk. Her only choice as far as she could see was to continue on her way early in the morning. Opening her eyes once more she looked at the labourers standing at the bar all shouting for more drinks. A cup smashed, there was a roar of anger, before Elfridd calming voice seemed to settled the matter. A man came towards her, she narrowed her eyes in his direction. He had a crop of wild looking brown hair that was showing the first signs of grey, and was dressed brightly in green. He paused by her table.

"May I mistress?" The figure asked. She indicated the empty chair opposite her with a nod.

"You seek the forest of Dun?" The man had an eager face and a slightly pleading tone in his voice.

"Yes." She replied leaning forward slightly to get a better look at the figure.

"No. It is not the forest you seek. It is the castle within it."

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"My name would mean nothing to you, I think." He said smiling slightly. "But I can help you. The path to the forest is lost. Together we may be able to find a way."

"What do you want from me?" She asked coolly, in her experience no-one offered their help for no reward.

"I...want to go home." The man said. "And judging from the bow and knife, I think you might be able to ward off anyone or...anything that might want to prevent us?" He smiled knowingly. She sat back narrowing her eyes suspiciously. He didn't seem to be a threat, and from the tone in his voice so far he had been honest.

"Why should I accept you as a travelling companion?" She asked.

"Forest of Dun is my home. Once there I will be able to guide you to what you seek."

"What makes you think I am seeking the castle?"

"All strangers seek the castle." He replied knowingly.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"You do not know me." The man smiled. The woman glared at him. It was a burning unsettling stare and the man found himself witheringly in it's heat.

"Call me Pickle." He relented. The woman raised an eyebrow but made no comment.

"Cat." She told him holding out her hand. He looked at it briefly before taking it.

"We start early tomorrow morning."