Name: Davros

  Class: Pyromancer

  Level: 9

  Health:320

  Mana:1065

  Will-8(9)

  Focus-9

  Speed-2

  Force-4(6)

  Presence-1(2)

  Fortune-11

  Active Spells (8 of 8)

  Combustion Bolt

  Wrath Shield

  Blood Boil

  Steam Aura

  Hypnotic Flame

  Burning Arms

  Blood Coal

  Summon Minor Lunar Fire Elemental

  Inactive Spells

  Cauterize Soul

  Passive Skills

  Mask Scent

  Limit Break

  Voidflame Breath

  Traits

  Born of Fire

  Wrath Touched

  Gear Bonuses

  Robe of Inner Fire (+1 Will, +1 Presence, 5% Flame Spell Reduction)

  Follower Bonuses

  +2 Force (Valka Stavrak)

  I looked over my Status and marveled at how much I had grown in so short a time. I had filled out my Active Spells and it was a shame I didn’t have just one more slot available so that I might equip them all. My first Passive skill. More Mana and Health points. I considered what it all meant.

  With more power comes greater risk of Wrath corruption. I need to focus not on the gains, but on my goals.

  And what were his goals?

  Anya had once hinted that in the Age of Heroes the Awakened had been responsible for great things. Terrible things too, most likely, but to him the word ‘Hero’ meant a person who cared about more than just themselves.

  I care for my friends. I care for exploring more of the world. I care about learning more about who I am.

  The goal for right now was the Forsaken Garden. During their read to the Czak Winter Camp, both Anya and Valka had filled him in on all they knew, despite never having set foot inside Bruhle’s solo dungeon themselves.

  “From the outside, it looks like a dilapidated Greenhouse attached to an old manor,” Valka began.

  “What’s a Greenhouse?” I had asked.

  “A place where fancy pants Alchemists like to store their herbs and rare plants,” Igvild had offered.

  “The Noble family that once lived in the Manor died out decades ago. The Dungeon was discovered shortly after the last of the line passed away and the Burgomeister at that time tried to repossesses the property.” Anya said and she pursed his lips as she searched her memory for what else she could recall. “Flesh eating plant creatures, sentient trees and vines, Mushroom Men…”

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  “Lots of nasties that want to kill you, yes. Typical Dungeon. Yet, it is a Solo Dungeon.” Valka interrupted. “It’s the solo nature of the place that makes it difficult to defeat, but also tempting in the rewards it might give.”

  “What makes a Solo Dungeon different from a normal Dungeon, barring the obvious that one does it alone?” I asked. Anya moved Windshear up near Bean and explained.

  “Like with any Dungeon, the Dungeon Core scans any who enters. Normal Dungeons tailor the challenges to a Group by averaging the Levels and taking into account how many Forged vs. Awakened there might be.”

  “Like when Garnak was a higher level when we were in Bleakthorn?” I asked.

  “Precisely. Having two Awakened and two Forged enter the Dungeon together pushed Garnak’s level higher than even Valka and I expected it to be. It is vital information to have.”

  Valka grunted and nodded and rubbed at his shoulder, clearly remembering his close call with Garnak.

  “In a Solo Dungeon, the level of all creatures are automatically double the level of the person delving. If you are not prepared, you are looking at an incredibly difficult challenge.” Anya said frowning.

  “So, as I’m currently Level 9 that means all the creatures in the Dungeon will be at least Level 18?”

  “At least,” Anya agreed. “Bosses or Rare mobs may be higher.”

  “Wow. It would seem wiser to run Solo Dungeons at as low a Level as possible then,” I mused. “It keeps the mob levels from growing too high if they will always be double the Delver’s Level.”

  “True,” Valka had said. “This particular Solo Dungeon can only be accessed by those Level 7-20. If you were Level 21, it would deny you entry. It’s why that old witch can’t just enter the Dungeon herself and fetch the item she wants. There are different sorts of Dungeons all across the Withered Lands, Davros. Your high Fortune could bring you just that. High Fortune!”

  There were other pieces of advice they both gave to me, but it was mostly about not wasting healing potions and never rushing between rooms. Always search everywhere. Never trust anything, etc. Don’t engage a Boss until you were at full health and mana. Sound advice, all.

  I’ll leave at first light. I don’t know how close I am to Level 10, but I want the Dungeon to keep the mobs as low as possible. I’ll take Valka’s advice and not burn my way through everything either. Still, even if I find a chest how would I open it without Igvild’s help?

  Problems for tomorrow. I looked over at Igvild, but the Dwarf was wrapped in his blankets and fast asleep. Rather than wake him, I decided to take a walk around the camp on my own. My memory recall was better than it ever had been in the past and I felt I should be able to find my way back.

  Despite the late hour, many of the Czaks were still seated around their fires drinking, eating or chatting amongst themselves. The Czak language was a rough sounding tongue and while Common was also spoken, the soldiers seemed to prefer conversing in their own language.

  I wonder if I might purchase an enchanted language book? Anya said those exist too. Imagine! Being able to learn an entire new language just be reading a magic tome!

  It would be a lie to say I wasn’t at least a little bit excited over what might drop for me in the Forsaken Garden on the morrow. I knew it would be dangerous, but perhaps a byproduct of a high Fortune was also a desire to share that fortune with others? Anya had liked the gift I had given her. I would also gift Valka and Igvild something too, if I could. Of course, if anything appropriate dropped for Anya I would naturally pass it her way. It was only being practical and she shouldn’t suspect it as anything else but such.

  As I was thinking about Lieutenant Anya, I heard her voice nearby. She sounded upset and I looked about and saw a large tent set within a copse of pine trees. The tent wasn’t as big as the Graf’s, but it was still a good size. I wondered who it belonged to? A night black horse was tethered to a post just outside it. One of the tent flaps was tied back and by the light of a candle sitting upon a table within the tent I saw Anya arguing with a good looking man with long, black hair.

  Who is that? I thought with a frown. I slowly moved closer. Within moments, I was close enough to hear what was being said.

  “I told you what happened, Smeeve! Whether you believe me or not is up to you!”

  So that’s Lieutenant Smeeve.

  “Really Anya, it isn’t like you to be so distant.” Smeeve reached out a hand to brush a lock of hair away from Anya’s forehead, but she jerked her head away. I frowned.

  “You have it wrong. We entered the Dungeon with two Awakened this time. Both the Dwarf and the boy are more formidable than you would believe. Everything was set to a higher level!” Anya said in a voice devoid of any emotion. She turned so that her back was to Smeeve.

  “That may be so, but even if the Dungeon really was tougher that alone doesn’t account for such a large amount of loot and you know it.” Now it was Smeeve’s voice that took on an edge and it involuntarily made me clench my fists. I couldn’t see it, but my eyes began to glow red. Smeeve reached out and placed both his hands upon Lieutenant Anya’s shoulders in a very familiar way.

  I don’t like you, Lieutenant Smeeve.

  “Which one of them has the high Fortune, Anya? Is it the Beardless runt or that unfortunate boy? By the Eye! With a face like his, I can’t imagine fortune has favored him much.”

  “Don’t say that about him!” Anya whirled around, but before she could say another word Lieutenant Smeeve leaned in and kissed Lieutenant Anya full on the lips. My jaw dropped and I felt my heart sink into my stomach. She didn’t pull away and without a word I slowly turned and walked away as quietly and quickly as I could.

  It’s fine, you fool. Did you really believe…ha! Did you honestly believe even for a moment…

  I stopped and looked up at the Red Moon above. It felt like Imbolc himself was glaring down at the camp. Judging. Seething. Burning…

  Stop it!

  I took a deep breath and slowly released it.

  “I have a Dungeon to run in the morning. I can’t afford any distractions.”

  Like boiling Lieutenant Smeeve’s blood in his veins! Like seeing his reaction when I give him a face as melted and disgusting as my own!

  “Stop. It!” I hissed.

  “Ye all right, lad?” I gasped and stiffened. Igvild was beside me looking up into my hood in concern. “Why’re yer eyes glowing like that, eh?”

  “Igvild…I…I’m sorry. It’s just that...” I looked behind me towards the tent. I couldn’t see what was happening in there now and perhaps I didn’t want to know. Igvild looked sympathetic.

  “It’s alreet lad. Just remember what I told ye. They ain’t like us.” The Dwarf reached up and patted my arm. “They ain’t Awakened. They can’t walk where we do, ye ken?” I slowly nodded.

  “You’re right. They aren’t like us. It’s for the best we stick to our own plans.” Igvild nodded in agreement at my words. “I’m going to burn that Dungeon into submission tomorrow. I want to leave early before the others wake.”

  “We should leave now then,” Igvild said. “Sun will be up in a few hours. We can reach the Gates of Bruhle as the sun rises. I can get us inside without anyone else knowing too.” Igvild chuckled and I smiled beneath my cowl. “We can start building our Travel Chest for when we need to skedaddle. I got a few things to take care of before we march to Bludgard too.”

  “Right. Let’s go.”

  I followed Igvild who took us directly to our horses, Bean and Druvik. They seemed happy to see us, especially when Igvild gave each of them a carrot he produced from nowhere.

  I’ll have to purchase supplies for Bean too. I wonder how long food will keep inside the Three-Pack Ring?

  We were on the road in moments, none of the Sentries barring our way as we were both recognized and General Torlack had likely already informed them of my plans. So what if I was leaving a little early and Igvild was accompanying me?

  I put my heels into Bean and we moved faster, Igvild on Druvik keeping pace.

  I can’t wait to get into that Dungeon! I’m going to win. I’m going to get stronger! I hate you, Lieutenant Smeeve! I hate you!