The carriage rolls into what I can only describe as an underwhelming little city. Small houses and various businesses crowd Daywark's walled interior. It's a wonder that this place was ever given proper fortifications, an anomaly owed to its ancient relevance as a forward base for military operations in the war of a thousand arrows. Now it is little more than an unremarkable hamlet clinging to its status as a city.

  The only noteworthy structure in Daywark is the lord's estate. A towering building that dominates the far side of the city. The carriage parks within its meager courtyard. I hear a rapping on the door, and give my consent for the driver to speak.

  "Speak."

  "We have arrived, Your Excellency."

  I can see that. I suppose intelligence is not a requirement for carriage drivers, is it?

  "There is a pair of soldiers here to escort Your Excellency to the acting city lord."

  Only a single pair? This place must be poorer than I thought, considering that is all they can spare to greet a bishop. I exit the carriage with the help of my paladin, his gleaming armor and imposing stature making the two Daywark soldiers look like children.

  Without bothering to speak to the two lowly guards I allow them to guide me into the estate. We move upstairs and into a study, one with a window overlooking the quaint town from above. Seated behind a large desk is a weaselly looking man. He adjusts his spectacles as I enter, but doesn't rise nor give me much in the way of a respectful greeting.

  "Bishop Saxon. I didn't receive notice of your visit, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

  The gall on this man! He may be working as a city lord, but that doesn't put him above me in station. I keep my anger concealed as I take a seat in the chair across from his desk.

  "I do not see why I should have to send notice of my arrival. To whom am I speaking?"

  "James Benson, acting city lord of Daywark and royal steward."

  Hah! So that is why he has such confidence. He must consider the crown to be above the church, but that is not the case. Our two factions are at best equals, but the church has the heart of the people. God is on our side.

  "Hm. Now, I am here to investigate rumors surrounding strange and possible heretical happenings in Daywark. What can you tell me, steward?"

  James bristles at my hostile wording. Mentioning heresy is akin to threatening to bring down the righteous hammer of the inquisitors. To his credit, he does well to keep his hostility limited to a stiff smile and a clenching of his hand.

  "Daywark is a pious city. There is nothing heretical happening in this town, and whatever nonsense is going on just outside of it is not in my purview."

  "And what is going on outside of it, steward? What is happening with the dungeon?"

  "How should I know? I don't stick my nose in that awful dungeon or the failing guild that monopolizes it! If you're so keen on learning more about it perhaps you should speak to Miss Hawthorne instead of bothering me with your posturing."

  I open my mouth to speak, but can't seem to find the right words. How can he be this aggressive in the face of a bishop? He must not fear the wrath of God.

  "Where can I find this Miss Hawthorne, steward?"

  "I'll have one of my soldiers show you the way, Bishop Saxon."

  Hard stares are exchanged as a guard approaches me with the intent to escort me to my destination. I rise from my seat with thoughts of reporting Daywark as a den of sin lingering at the forefront of my mind.

  Perhaps this uppity steward needs to be reminded of God's authority.

  ~

  If Daywark is a backwater village, then this guild is a den of lowly criminals. The amount of common rabble carrying weapons in and out of the building is appalling. They're clearly not mercenaries, yet they wear armor and carry blades so casually.

  Unlike that awful steward, Miss Hawthorne actually shows me a proper welcome with an entourage of four much more refined looking men. I'm led up to an office on the second floor of the guild hall, wherein the woman waits.

  She is a red haired woman with a fierce gaze and fine clothing. Her tomboyish sense of style doesn't hinder her beauty in the slightest, and I find myself wondering if making a vow of celibacy was a mistake.

  "Welcome, Your Excellency."

  "Be at ease, Miss Hawthorne. You may call me Saxon if you so wish."

  "I prefer to use your proper address, but thank you, Your Excellency."

  Drat. She's already putting up boundaries to stop me from getting familiar with her. Why must the most beautiful women be so difficult? I take my seat and she follows suit, sitting behind a desk much more humble in size than the one in the estate.

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  "So, what has brought you here, Your Excellency?"

  "I've heard tell of a place called a dungeon. Word of treasures and strange creatures coming from within it have spread all the way to the enclave. I want all the information you have on it."

  Miss Hawthorne's face twitches almost imperceptibly at my words. She clears her throat before speaking. I get the feeling she doesn't want to hand everything over.

  "That is a bit difficult to do, Your Excellency-"

  "I am not asking, Miss Hawthorne, I am demanding. His Holiness has concerns that this dungeon is something not of this world."

  "I... I see. Then I suppose I have no choice, as I am a God fearing woman."

  With the threat of an inquisition coming down on her head she finally sees sense. I watch with an aloof expression as her soldiers and attendants bring in a plethora of documents. She sifts through them, idly picking a collection of pages for me to have a look at.

  I idly peruse the pages. Documents outlining the structure of the dungeon, passages leading to valleys and a forest. Descriptions of towering trees that can't possibly exist. Illustrations of monstrous beings far too horrible to exist. This can't be real.

  "What is this nonsense? I know of this place producing strange things, but this right here is an abomination. You expect me to believe this is anything more than fiction?"

  "That is a woodwalker, Your Excellency... They are very real. Two men lost their lives to the beasts. We have since kept our distance from them when possible."

  "Beast? Those are monstrosities!"

  My face starts to warm as I imagine what sort of vile mind conjured up such a thing. If this is in fact real, then His Holiness was right to have me investigate! This is an affront to God!

  I rise from my seat with all the grace of a rampaging bull. Miss Hawthorne's brows raise as she watches me draw myself up with a prideful huff. This woman is either attempting to make a fool of me, insane, or she is telling the truth. Even if the third is the case she is no better than a corrupted mind driven to sin by the promise of otherworldly riches.

  "I'm afraid this dungeon of yours goes against all that is righteous, Miss Hawthorne."

  My coldly delivered verdict sours Miss Hawthorne's expression.

  "And no, I will not be condemning you and your little guild, but do keep in mind that defending your source of income will be seen as defending a portal to the devil's playground."

  "Your Excellency! Please reconsider, this isn't anything nefarious, from what our adventurers can tell the dungeon is some sort of natural phenomenon-"

  I turn away from her as she speaks. She sputters, aghast at my behavior. I do not owe someone tempted by forbidden fruit any respect. I motion to one of my paladins and he leans down, letting me whisper my orders into his ear.

  "Take half the men and check the interior of the dungeon. Bring back any information you can find, and kill everything you come across."

  He salutes me by placing his clenched fist against his chest and bowing his head in reverence. I move past him and out of the room as Miss Hawthorne shouts at my back. Something she says does catch my ear.

  "We have the backing of the crown, Bishop Saxon!"

  The crown? Does she think having the name of the prince and princess on her side will do anything when it is His Holiness himself siding against her? Hah!

  "Miss Hawthorne, our discussion is over. I am leaving."

  I march out of the guild hall with my paladins flanking me.

  Hopefully I'll have good results to report back to His Holiness by the end of the day.

  ~

  Two mercenaries in decent armor guard the door to the dungeon. My men outdo them in both stature and equipment. Our gilded armor reflects the sun's light in a most inspiring fashion, while their dull plate looks barely maintained.

  "I'm sorry, but all the delve slots for today are full-"

  I cut off the guard speaking with a punch to the throat. He crumples to the ground while the other mercenary takes several steps back. His wide eyed gaze is one of a lesser being seeing greatness. A reaction common to those faced with our holy might.

  We walk into the dungeon's door unimpeded by the standing guard. Inside there is a strangely ornate room made of stone. I take a quick glance at the stone tree in the center of the chamber before spotting the two open doors on our left.

  Words float in the air on a partially visible blue barrier. I place my gauntlet clad hand on the barrier and find it does not budge.

  "Is this witchcraft?" I murmur, eyeing the floating words.

  Apparently this door leads to a place called Green Valley. The text informs us that there are currently six people inside with a maximum of six allowed entry. I turn to my men and give them a searching look.

  "Do any of you have a holy talisman with you?"

  One man near the back of the group steps forward. He holds out a rosary made of solid gold. It shines with a brilliant light as he passes it to me. I turn, presenting the rosary to the barrier. My voice is but a whisper as I speak--Praying to God.

  "Hear me, Holy Father, and guide me through this obstacle most foul with your merciful grace."

  I have my eyes shut as I pray. When I finish my prayer I hear a cracking sound, and look up to see the door itself start to fracture. Pieces of the stone frame break off and dust falls as the structure around us is shaken slightly.

  "Something is wrong--Step back!" I shout a warning.

  My men and I all stumble backwards as a chunk of the ceiling falls next to the door. The shimmering blue barrier remains intact, but the frame around the door is failing. I narrow my eyes in confusion as God's might is pressed against the strange barrier.

  Then there's a sound like glass being shattered, except so loud I feel my eardrums ache.

  Several moments pass before I open my eyes to see dust drifting through the air. I blink, sitting up with a pained grunt. My lungs burn as bits of rock cloud the air. I can see my men strewn around me. They're all still breathing, but battered by whatever just happened. My head is pounding as I turn to face the door we were trying to get through.

  There is no longer a door. Now, there is just a mass of stone rubble. The other door is unaffected. The door to Green Valley is no more, as we can see the structure has collapsed onto the entrance. God's wrath was quite potent.

  "Our prayers were answered, Men! The hellscape can be cleansed!"

  My men offer muted cheers as most are still aching from the blast.

  While my lungs are burning, I am blessed to see God's might.