The air at the front gates of the dungeon was a maelstrom of steel and fury. A one-ard orc, a hulking figure with a great axe, was engaged in a ferocious battle against two armored skeleton guards.
The orc’s muscles bunched and strained with every swing, and his weapon, a massive, two-handed axe, was wielded with terrifying speed and force in his single arm. Beastkin onlookers watched from a safe distance, their expressions a mix of fear and disgust as they stared at the enraged orc, Schalezusk. To the beastkins, seeing an orc was that one of racial disgust and hate against them, after their race pillaged so many villages.
The two skeleton guards, ard with polished tower shields and sharp spears, stood their ground with unyielding discipline. Schalezusk roared, delivering a horizontal slash with his axe, but the guards simply raised their shields. The sheer force of the blow sent a jarring vibration through the stone ground, yet the skeletons were only slightly moved.
"Is that all you’ve got, you mindless husks?!" Schalezusk bellowed, his voice raw with fury. "Let in! Where’s my brother, you bastards?!"
He stepped back and spun, using his montum to deliver a powerful diagonal slash from above. One of the skeleton guards parried the blow with a flick of his spear, the clang of tal on tal echoing through the dungeon entrance, causing Schalezusk to stagger. The other guard seized the opportunity, charging forward and delivering a devastating shield bash that sent the orc tumbling backward.
Enraged even further, Schalezusk’s arm began to glow as blue, intricate marks appeared on his skin. This was his clan’s signature technique, a form of controlled berserker rage that enhanced his physical prowess. "I’ll show you, what a real warrior can do!" he snarled, dashing forward, charging the two guards. The skeletons, sensing the overwhelming force, raised their shields in a defensive stance, their forms unyielding. Schalezusk launched a flurry of swings—a high chop, a low sweep, a feint to the left—but each attack was t by a simple, elegant deflection.
A shield turned at the last mont, a spear shaft caught his axe handle, a synchronized step to the side made his montum useless. It was like fighting two unmoving mountains. However, they paused midway, following an unseen order from Rook not to kill the orc. A new ally is a better asset for our lord’s plans, Rook’s thought echoed in their magically-linked minds.
The orc’s montum was unstoppable; he bulldozed through their defenses, the sheer force of his charge knocking the two skeletons back. He dashed past them, dashing past the market’s front garden and fountain and hurtling up the stairs, only to be t by Rook, who appeared as if from thin air.
Rook, standing high on the landing, made no move to defend himself. Schalezusk raised his axe, roaring in defiance, and brought it down with the full force of his charged arm. Rook didn’t even flinch. He simply caught the axe blade in the palm of his hand, the blue glow of the orc’s rage technique flickering and dying out instantly. Schalezusk’s eyes widened in shock as he tried to push, but the axe was locked in Rook’s grip, not a single one of the skeleton’s bones straining.
With a flick of his wrist, Rook sent the axe spinning away, and with a swift, precise motion, he kicked the orc down the stairs. Schalezusk slamd into the wall at the bottom, the force of the impact planting him into the stone wall behind him, before he slid to the ground.
The orc slowly stood, his rage montarily replaced by a calculating analysis of his new opponent. He pointed his great axe at Rook. "Who are you? Are you the leader of these skeletons?" he demanded.
Rook, his voice calm and even, simply replied, "Please refrain from any violence. This is a neutral establishnt. We do not tolerate any criminals in this place."
"Criminals? How ironic," Schalezusk scoffed, his anger flaring again. "You took my brother hostage! He’s here! I can sll his scent! I swear if you did anything to him, I will gut you like a fish!"
Just then, a seemingly ordinary stone wall opened from behind him, and Simon’s voice rang out. "Brother!"
Schalezusk’s head snapped around, his expression of murderous rage instantly lting into one of relief as he saw his younger brother rushing towards him. "Simon!" he shouted, dropping his axe to embrace him.
As they hugged, Schalezusk imdiately began to inspect his brother, checking for any signs of harm. "I thought they turned you into one of them! They didn’t harm you, did they?"
"No, brother, in fact," Simon said, a soft smile on his face, "they helped find Grandpa’s amulet."
Schalezusk was taken aback. "What?! Really?"
"Yes," Simon confird. "They also helped with food and a place to stay. It’s safe here, brother. You have to believe ."
Relieved beyond words, Schalezusk hugged his brother again. "I’m so glad you’re fine." He looked around at the onlookers. "And you found the amulet... This is an opportunity!"
It was then that Karl appeared in the doorway, his skeletal form emanating a powerful undead aura that made Schalezusk instinctively grip his axe again, his relief replaced by a primal fear. Karl, however, simply smiled and bowed professionally, his expensive suit a stark contrast to his bone-dry body.
"I am Karl Leech," he said, his voice calm and polite. "I am the owner of this humble establishnt."
Schalezusk was taken aback. He’d never t an undead with such imnse power that was also so polite. The fear he felt was imdiately eased by Karl’s professional deanor. "O-oh, my na is Schalezusk. I am Simon’s brother. Nice to et you." He said with a confused expression.
Karl just stood and nodded. "Nice to et you as well, Mr. Schalezusk. We’re glad to have you."
"Are you the one who took care of my brother?" Schalezusk asked.
"Yes, we are," Karl replied. "We were hoping to et you a bit sooner, but we didn’t know that your brother has failed to remind you of his current state and location. Thus, we apologize on behalf of my company; we have failed to notify you as soon as possible." Karl glanced pointedly at Simon, who sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, a small, guilty smile on his face.
Schalezusk sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I apologize too, for my brother’s lack of communication and for my earlier actions. We owe you a big favor." He bowed respectfully, then grabbed Simon’s forearm, his expression turning serious once more. "But we really have to go. We have an unfinished business to settle."
Simon pulled his arm away. "No, brother. I’ll stay here."
Schalezusk was taken aback, his gaze flicking between Karl and Simon. He wondered if they had chard or mind-controlled his brother, but then he saw Simon’s resolute expression—the sa look he had whenever he was scolded by his younger brother for his stubbornness. Simon was always the smartest of his kin and was never wrong in his decisions.
"What do you an ’stay’?" Schalezusk demanded, his voice filled with frustration. "Now that we have the amulet, we can use this to take back our rightful place as the chief of the Bloodtusk Clan and kill that traitor, Minur! We can finally avenge our father! Why are you suddenly like this?!" The onlookers, the beastkins and hunter kobolds who had gathered, overheard his words and began to murmur among themselves.
Simon grabbed his brother by the arm, his expression serious. "Do you think we will survive if we face Minur now with just you and ? Use your head for once, brother!" He gestured with both fingers to his temple.
Schalezusk froze. His brother was right. Simon was always the smartest one, but his emotions had always gotten the better of him. He never once listened to his brother but now, as he looked from the powerful skeleton guards to the seemingly effortless strength of Rook and the imnse power of the monster Lich standing before him, he finally understood. This was not a simple rescue; this was an opportunity for a powerful new alliance. Karl, seeing that there were too many eyes and ears listening, smiled knowingly.
"Mr. Schalezusk," Karl said calmly, "why don’t we talk further inside?"
Schalezusk, also seeing the many onlookers, understood and nodded. Karl went ahead first, Simon followed, and Schalezusk, finally at ease, followed them into the dungeon. The massive stone door closed behind them, sealing them from the prying eyes and ears of the outside world.
As they walked through a narrow, well-lit hallway, Schalezusk asked, his voice still low with confusion, "What is this place?"
Karl, leading the way, replied without turning back, "This is an establishnt of comrce, trade, and exchange. We entertain, et the needs of our custors here. Though our company only welcod them days ago, we were fully prepared to accomodate and welco them."
Schalezusk’s confusion deepened. An undead interacting with the living was unheard of, much less running a comrcial enterprise. He opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Karl continued, "We use this path for employees and stocks to reach the second floor. The floor you were about to rush into was the first floor, where all trade and transactions takes place. If you had caused a scene there, you and our establishnt would be in big trouble." Karl glanced back, a serious expression on his skeletal face. "I do hope you understand that the beastkin’s racial discrimination against you is a major issue between your race and the entire race of beastkin."
Both Simon and Schalezusk fell silent. They understood Karl’s words completely. While they themselves had refused to participate in the pillaging their traitorous kin had been inflicting on the region, they were not spared from the sins their race had committed. As the heirs of the Bloodtusk Clan, they bore this responsibility and the weight of their people’s actions.
Karl, sensing the heavy mood, broke the silence with a more cheerful tone. "But enough of that. I apologize for the guilt-tripping. I’m sure you are famished from your journey. We have a variety of als we can present to you." He glanced back and smiled.
Simon’s face lit up by the ntion of food. "Brother! You have to taste their food, it’s really amazing! Their beds, too, are really soft. We can technically live here forever!"
"Ah, so that’s why you forgot about your brother, huh?" Schalezusk said, a playful smile replacing his serious expression.
"Ahhh... that’s not..." Simon tried to explain, but Schalezusk wrapped his arm around his brother, rubbing his head affectionately.
"Ahh, brother, stop!" Simon struggled, but Schalezusk held him tight.
Karl chuckled, amused by the familial interaction. "It seems so things are universal."
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