A 16-year-old boy jogged along a dirt road. He wore a brown leather vest over a forest green tunic. Coffee colored boots kicked dust into the air as the boy tried to keep his pace. The pack over his shoulder chinked from a few trinkets inside and his sheathed short sword attached to his waist patted against his slacks. He moved with purpose, panting and sweating as he continued to move.
Seth Greenwald grew up in his village dreaming about adventures. He grew up listening to the stories of many brave heroes, who fought evil and rescued damsels in distress. His dream was common among the youth of many villages, being brought up by such enchanting tales. Seth’s parents granted him the opportunity to go on an adventure, much to the surprise of the community. They hoped that Seth would learn something from such a journey, no matter how much time it took. His father supplied him with an old but well cared for short sword, and his mother gave him a pack of food and water, and a few good luck charms in the form of stones and figurines of Gods. All of them had yet to serve their purpose, when a band of thieves found him a few days after he began his travels.
Seth’s lungs burned as he continued to push himself and he dared a look over his shoulder. He slowed down, realizing that he had outrun them, before falling onto the ground panting. A few trees and hills surrounded the road that Seth rested on, hiding his view from the farthest horizons around him. Instead, he looked towards the blue sky with a few slow-moving clouds. The sound of grass and leaves shaking in the wind reached his eardrums, and he realized that the world had not paused its cycle of life merely for his sake. Many travelers faced bandits and thieves along the roads on a regular basis. Seth pushed himself up into a seated position, as he understood that he was one of the few lucky enough to escape from thieves without any harm.
His thoughts disappeared as a shadow fell over him. Seth knew he was no warrior, but all boys knew how to wield a sword at least through playing in the schoolyard with sticks and wooden replicas. Quick as his reflexes would allow, and pumped by instinct and fear, he jumped and spun around to face the caster of the shadow. A man with a scarf covering his face, and a dagger in his hand, growled in annoyance at his mistake, edging closer to Seth in order to try and finish the job anyways. Seth unsheathed his sword smoothly.
The breeze continued to blow and the sky remained a crystal blue. Seth knew how he stood, untrained and truly unskilled at defeating another at armed combat. Seth played with all the boys in the schoolyard, but he never won. Still, he prayed to the Goddess of luck, her figurine still in his pack, and thought of the tales he remembered and the heroes he loved to hear about and idolize for courage. From the Solemn Knight who swore to protect an empire until he life ran from his veins thousands of years before, and continued to patrol its lands today, to the True Justice, the knight who fought to protect the innocent although he himself was severely disfigured and sometimes hated. Seth felt his blood boil as he tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, and charged forward yelling. Seth brought his sword down onto the bandit; the bandit slid to the side and took a simple step forward, slashing quickly at Seth’s sword arm. He hissed in pain and placed his free hand on his now bleeding shoulder. Seth watched as the bandit drew closer to his throat in less than a second before a sudden impact sent the bandit flying across the ground.
Seth’s throat became dry as he looked at the unmoving body of the bandit, a large arrow sticking out from his chest. He turned his head, setting his gaze on a man in a dusty green leather outfit, similar to those worn by archers who travelled through the forest and fought in the shadows. He had seen many of them walk alongside soldiers in the army when they came to visit his village, but this one had no emblem embroidered on his breast. The man’s hood hid his face and he held a longbow, and as he ran down from the small hill he had been standing on, his short coat flared up enough to show that he had many other weapons hiding within it. Once on the road, the man sprinted to where Seth stood awestruck.
“Hey,” the man said without any shortness of breath as he reached Seth, “you know how to run right?” He gave a smirk as he patted Seth on his shoulder, “From what I saw, you didn’t seem to have any problems before.”
Seth opened and closed his mouth silently, trying to think of a decent comeback, “I was outnumbered then!” He finally said, “I figured I could handle one on my own…”
The man shook his head, and revealed his short brown hair and fair complexion as he pulled down his hood. His skin seemed strange to Seth, as most of those who remained in the wilderness normally held darker and harder skin than this man did. “Well, it’ll be fine then. My friend should handle the rest when they come.”
“They?” Seth turned his head towards where he had come from, watching as the same band of thieves that had chased him before stalked toward the two of them from their hiding places. Many had hidden themselves behind trees or behind the cover of the hills. As they moved from their hiding places, Seth could see their grins pressed against the scarves and rots tied around their faces.
“Well they seem to be a happy bunch, don’t they?” the archer said in a light tone. He shouldered his bow and walked over to the body of the thief he had killed. He grabbed the bottom of the arrow and, with a swift and strong tug, pulled it out of the body without a second look. He walked back to the boy, looking over the red tip of the arrow, and then looked back at Seth, “My name’s Cathair,” he said as he held his free hand out, “what’s yours?”
Seth remained silent, focused more on the band of thieves closing in towards them, while the one person who could handle them asked for an introduction. Seth almost wanted to scream, but whether he more frightened or frustrated he could not tell. To top it all off, he had a pain on his shoulder from the wound of the bandit’s dagger, a pain he did not normally deal with. He found he had not breathed in enough to elicit a good response. A weak curse coughed out between his lips.
“Well that’s rude.” the ranger said, “What kind of parents name their child with that kind of name?”
Seth had little time to correct the ranger, as the sound of a horse neighing reached his ears. He looked off of the road in time to see an auburn warhorse charging down towards the dirt path at the band of thieves at full speed. On the warhorse, sat a man wearing full plate armor over his body, shined to perfection, with a helm over his head with a visor. It looked like a knight, or at least what Seth had envisioned to be one. A tattered cape flowed from his shoulder, keeping the sheathed great sword strapped to his back free and easy to reach. The knight had no emblem upon his armor, and instead Seth could see deep scratches on one side of the armor’s breastplate. The knight charged forward with his horse holding a lance in his hand.
“There see?” Cathair said, pulling Seth’s attention away from the knight and thieves, “I told you he’d take care of it.”
As the knight easily plowed and stabbed through enemies with his lance, and his horse trampled on anyone to slow to react, Seth realized that the archer was giving an understatement. Just after the initial charge, the knight dropped the lance and jumped onto the ground. He unsheathed his great sword and, without mercy or effort, swung it around himself. The giant blade cut through an unprepared bandit, sending him to the ground in two pieces. Another swing came down on a faster bandit, who raised his blade in order to try and soften the blow. The knight’s sword came down on the bandit’s sword hard. The bandit’s blade held strong, but his own arms broke from the strike and his sword embedded itself into his shoulder and his body flew through the air like a ragdoll, rolling and sliding across the dusty ground. One after another, the thieves fell before the band split and the survivors scrambled in different directions. The knight stabbed his great sword through the chest of the remaining thief, before looking around for another victim.
“Great job, Armo!” Cathair shouted and began to clap his hands, “It’s always good to know you never stop practicing!”
The knight turned to Cathair and, after kicking the body off of it, sheathed his great sword and walked towards him. In a low and growling voice that sounded more like an animal than a man, Armo spoke, “You could have helped me!”
“No one came after me. Besides, I was getting our damsel in distress’ name.” Cathair said as he pointed a thumb towards Seth, “You know what his name is? You’ll never believe it, it’s-”
“Seth!” he shouted, unable to keep quiet, “My name is Seth Greenwald.”
The knight moved his helmet in a quick nod, “Sir Armo Blackblood,” he said before turning back to Cathair, “Why not wait until after the battle was over to get his name?”
“Because, I knew you would deal with them easily. I mean, they were obviously evil, right?”
“They weren’t all evil,” Armo said, raising his voice, “I have no idea why, but they weren’t all evil!”
“Well, you killed them, so obviously you can kill non-evil things as well.”
“But I’m a paladin! I’m trained to kill evil things!”
Seth raised a hand at that moment, “E-evil things? Like…orcs?”
Armo turned to him, while Cathair snorted and tried to hide a chuckle. Armo gave Cathair a shove to the ground in response before speaking, “I mean creatures that…have evil intentions, enough so that they emit an aura that few can see.”
“And…you can see that?”
“I’m trained to. And I’m trained to fight at my strongest against such creatures. I’m not at my best against anything else.”
“Oh is that why Cartographers are so difficult for us to deal with.” Cathair interrupted as he dusted off his trousers. Armo let out a growl as he turned back to the archer, making Seth back away slowly.
“Cartographers are crazy, not evil. There’s a difference.”
Seth continued to step away, until he felt his back bump into something, and turned around slowly to see what stopped him. The auburn warhorse stood in front of him, chewing on grass. It then moved towards Seth a bit and bumped its head against his shoulder gently, painfully reminding Seth of the wound on his shoulder.
“Oh careful there. We should try to have Armo look at that before we take you…” Cathair paused as he placed a hand on his chin in thought, “where are we taking you anyways?”
“He’s going home,” Armo interrupted and placed a gloved hand on Seth’s shoulder. A flash of light came from within the gloves and Seth’s pain suddenly disappeared. He looked down to his shoulder as Armo pulled his hand away to see that the wound had disappeared under the small tear now on his vest. Seth looked over at Armo in surprise, only to see him climb up onto his horse and turn to Cathair, “We’ll take him home and go on our way. Alright?”
“Sure.” Cathair said and turned down the road, walking at a steady pace next to Armo. Seth remained behind for a few seconds, before snapping out of his reverie and sprinting after them. Home sounded good.
***
The group travelled for the rest of the day, making camp at night on the side of the path. Cathair reached into his pack and pulled out a lute much larger than the bag itself. Seth looked over at it questioningly, but Cathair ignored his stare and began to play on it. Seth frowned and then turned over to the more heavily armored companion, watching as he struggled with his helm, grunting and growling the entire time. Seth blinked in disbelief for a moment as Armo pulled the helm over his head.
He had never seen an Orc before, but knew their description well. Armo had coarse green skin and a small tuft of jet-black hair on top of his head. His eyes were colored red, but the fearsome look conflicted with the laugh lines on his face. Finally, he had a pair of small tusks sticking out from his bottom set of teeth. If Armo was not an Orc, then he stood as the worst case of inbreeding Seth had ever seen.
Armo dropped his helm next to the fire and sat down next to it, beginning to unclasp each piece of armor attached to his body. Seth looked back towards Cathair and then turned back to Armo, “So…uh sorry about the misunderstanding, about evil creatures and Orcs.”
“Happens all the time.” He said simply as he pulled of another piece of armor.
Seth nodded his head slowly, and then began another question, “So, Blackblood…does that mean that you bleed black-?”
“No, shut up.” Armo said with a light shake of his head but a definite smile on his face.
Seth placed a hand on his collar, coughing lightly as he began to look through his pack. He needed a good luck charm, something random but at least a little lucky. He clasped his hand over something simple, but round and smooth. He pulled it out slowly, and looked it over using the campfires light to help. He held a smooth green crystal, imperfect but soothing to the touch. He never remembered putting it inside of his pack, but knew whom it belonged to. His younger sister had showed it to him once, thinking it was something important. A stone imbued with magic, or a precious jewel, and Seth could no persuade her any differently. She probably left it in his pack before he left, and remembered that she was expecting a book’s worth of stories when he returned.
He knew he would have at least one; he then tried to come up with a good title. “The Orc knight and the lazy ranger?” He said to himself, but shook his head. It certainly did not draw any attention as it was.
“Actually,” Cathair began, “it’s the True Justice and the Apathetic Spiderleg. Wonderful little tale. I hear it keeps the children up at night, but I don’t know if its cause their scared or excited…” Cathair said with concentrating look before shrugging his shoulders.
Seth’s eyes lit up as he looked between the two, “That’s who you two are!?” he half shouted. “The disfigured knight sworn to justice? And the scout with monster qualities?” He looked between the two in a pause before squinting his eyes at each of them, “Wait those legends were thousands of years ago…a-and the True Justice was a disfigured human. And the Apathetic Spiderlegs had…well spiderlegs!”
“Legends tend to change overtime, or they forget important pieces of information.” Armo said as he pulled off his last piece of armor. He only wore a tunic and trousers, and Seth noticed a strap of leather tied around his left arm with black feathers and red beads sewn all around it.
“Besides,” Cathair began, “I have to look inconspicuous sometimes. Otherwise I’d get the attention of all the ladies!”
Armo scoffed, “And send them running to the hills…so they could get their pitchforks and vow for revenge.”
Cathair plucked a string on his lute a bit too hard and then glowered at the Paladin, “That only happened one time…”
“And yet they’re still after you? Do you remember how long ago that was?”
“A-anyhow,” Seth interrupted with a weak smile, “we should be close to my home village, right? Just a day’s walk away…?” He began to toss the green crystal in his hand up into the air, and caught it as it fell.
“Well that’s the idea-” Cathair began and then stopped as he eyed the flying crystal for a moment. “Seth, what is that?”
“Oh this?” Seth began as he looked over it again, “Just a little something my sister found and gave to me for good luck.”
Cathair reached over to him for the stone, and Seth passed it to him silently. Cathair looked it over for a moment, and then looked through it, aiming towards the fire. The light passed through and a grin began to spread across his face. “Armo? I think you want to look at this…”
***
The next day, the three stood in front of a cave entrance carved out from the side of a mountain. Cathair held the green crystal in his hand and patted Seth on the back as he stared at the entrance, “I’m so happy we rescued you Seth.”
“Why do you say that?” Seth replied, focusing a bit on the ancient runes carved on the pillars supporting the entrance.
“You’ll see.”
Armo stepped off of his horse and walked towards the entrance, followed by Cathair and Seth. “You sure we should bring the kid?” Armo asked.
“Better to keep an eye on him than let him run off on his own. Besides, it’s only fair he gets a share of what we find.”
“Right. I just don’t want his death hanging on my conscious.” Armo finished before stepping into the cave, disappearing almost completely in the darkness from what Seth could see.
“How’s it look?”
“Well, it’s dark.” Armo began, “But I can handle that pretty easily.”
Seth heard the sound of a snap echo from within the cave, before a ball of light appeared, growing in size until it was the size of Armo’s head. It shined with a bright light, but gave Seth no pain even as he stared into it. He shook his head as the Cathair entered the cave and Armo continued forward, “Hey wait!” Seth shouted,
“Are you sure I should be coming with you?”
Cathair looked back ready to answer, but Armo placed a hand over his mouth and kept moving forward. Seth looked towards the light, knowing he would not be able to catch up at all if it suddenly disappeared from his view. He broke into a run, chasing after them.
The adventurers stepped through the cave, moving through dark tunnels illuminated by Armo alone. When Seth could see him, Cathair would look down at the green crystal every so often, and nod his head happily.
“You know what that is don’t you?” Seth asked.
Cathair answered, “It’s a map. Damn good one too. With this, we’ll be in and out of this labyrinth before you know it, and with a bit of coin too.”
“What is this place anyways?”
“Haven’t heard a name for it yet,” Armo replied. “People just know it’s easy to get lost forever down hear. Especially without a light.”
The journey came to a stop at a large set of stone doors. In front of it, stood a robed figure with a thick book in his hands. “Who dares to enter the Dragon Dungeon?” It asked in a daring tone.
Seth turned to Cathair, “Dragon Dungeon?”
“Here there be Dragons…” He replied mockingly.
Armo looked towards his other two companions, placing a finger over his visor before turning forward again, “Who are you to ask for our names?” He spoke in a tone that nearly made Seth bow to him. He sounded different, almost regal.
The robed figure remained still and silent for a moment before speaking, “I…am Cartographer.”
There was a long silence between the four of them before Cathair asked, “Say that one more time?”
“I am Cartographer,” the robed figure said, standing a bit taller.
Armo pulled his great sword out of his sheath without a second thought, letting the ball of light float over his head, and grinded his heels into the ground as he stared at the robed figure. “Are you?” He asked growling, “Are you Cartographer? How long have you been Cartographer?” he spoke rapidly.
Seth turned to Armo in surprise, but then noticed Cathair pull out a short sword in each hand. “Lose a river or something?” he asked and scowled, “I figure we’ll see a dragon here, and we have to deal with a Cartographer here too? What are you even doing here?”
The robed figure looked between the two armed individuals, taking a few steps back and holding his book in front of him. Armo and Cathair edged forward cautiously, before the robed figure spun around and pushed against the doors. The doors remained still for a few moments before one of them began to move slowly.
“Oh for the Gods sake.” Armo said as he sheathed his sword and walked towards the door. He grabbed the robed figure and pulled him back roughly. He then pushed the doors and began to make progress on it right away. The sound of stone grinding against stone grew louder as Seth began to swear he saw sparks in front of Armo’s feet.
Once open, the three entered into a large room with a domed ceiling. A few torches were hanging from the sides of the wall, and a bit of sunlight drifted down from small holes in the ceiling. Seth noticed on the far side of the room however, light sparkling off of something in the distance. It seemed to glitter and glow, and Seth knew well enough what he would find if he stood closer: gold, gems and jewels. His imaginings were cut short when a roar cut through the air, reverberating against the walls and forcing Seth to cover his ears in pain.
Seth felt his ears ring when the sight of it came into view. Gigantic and standing tall on its four limbs, it’s blue scales gave off a sheen that seemed as if they had been polished extensively. It’s chest was colored a whiter hue, but no duller in its shine as the rest of its scales. It thrashed its tail roughly, and opened its jaws to show rows of sharp teeth. With a quick snort, it blew a small flame.
Seth felt his knees shake, until Armo spoke, “You know, we would have a better chance of avoiding these battles if we knew how to speak Draconic.”
“Stop asking for the impossible.” Cathair said. He looked over at Seth and placed the green crystal in his hand, “Better stay here kid, it’s about to get fun.”
Seth had no complaints as he held the crystal tightly and watched as Armo moved toward. He lifted his visor to get a better view of the dragon, “Is that thing evil…?” he said to himself. “It is evil…yes!” he shouted as he unsheathed his sword once more. He roared as he charged towards the Dragon, responding to the roar with its own. It spread its leather wings apart a bit, waiting as the Orc came closer. Armo’s sword and armor began to glow and shine with a pale light. The dragon roared in pain and forced its head to look away, as Armo slammed his blade down on the closest arm of the dragon.
Cathair, meanwhile, looked over his equipment, “Short swords? Check. Bow and arrows? Check. Transformation?” He gripped his swords tighter as he hunched forward a bit. His back began to grow bumps, and then two orange and scaled dragon wings appeared, sprouting to the side. A silver and spiked tail appeared just under his coattail and slammed against the ground a bit. Finally, eight brown, bony and sharp spider legs sprouted out through hidden holes on the back of Cathairs coat. He looked over himself as the spider legs lifted him up a bit, “Check.” He then let out a sigh as he looked towards the dragon, “And now we fight a dragon.”
Seth watched as Cathair moved towards the angry dragon, moving quickly with his new limbs. There were stories of these two, fighting side by side against monsters fiercer and more frightening than the dragon, some with the power to destroy worlds. They had fought demons from Acatur, ghosts from the Hell Plane, and had travelled between planes of existence. They stood and fought as legends, and would be remembered forever in history. And yet, Seth began to realize that outside, nothing would change as this epic battle ensued. The heroes fought the dragon with the world completely unaware of its happening. And the world would not end in their deaths. It would continue to spin, until new heroes replaced them and took up their mantle.
“That’s…that’s frightening.” Seth heard beside him, causing him to turn and look at the robed figure.
“What part? Spider legs or the dragon.”
“Both, but I’ve seen the dragon before.” The robed figure said as he pulled down his hood, revealing a young and human looking face with gray scales instead of skin. The boy turned to Seth, “Oh my name’s Kot by the way.”
“Right,” Seth replied, realizing that Kot looked no older than himself, “you’re…the Cartographer right?”
“Well,” Kot laughed and his fingernail along his cheek, “I was merely acting as the Cartographer. In order to scare other adventurers away. It is a rather nasty dragon after all.”
“What’s so fearsome about a Cartographer?”
Kot nodded his head in understanding, “Well, I’m told that every once in a while, a strange creature comes into villages saying…well ‘I am Cartographer.’ They make maps in little crystals, like the one you used to get here.” He pointed at the green crystal in Seth’s hand.
“And the reason their feared…?”
“Well, after a few months of travelling around or staying in a village, most of them go berserk and start to transform into hideous creatures.” Kot moved his hands around, wiggling his fingers from his face like tentacles, “They get stronger too. They become capable of powerful magic spells and great feats of strength. Just one can kill hundreds of villagers on its rampage and it takes an army to kill just one.”
Seth nodded his head a bit, and then looked towards the two heroes again. Watching as Cathair lifted Armo high up and threw him into the air, and then watching Armo fall to the ground, slamming his sword against the creature’s scaly neck. “Those two seem to have fought them before though…” He then turned back to Kot, “where do the Cartographer’s come from?”
“Another plane of existence.”
Before Seth could ask for a better explanation, another sound gained both of their attentions. Behind them stood several middle-aged women, and men, with torches and pitchforks. All of them showed wrinkles on their skin and graying hair, and there were many of them.
Seth looked over at Kot, “How…did they get here…? I’m the one with the map…”
Kot sighed, “They must have found the back door…”
“There’s a back door?”
“Well of course. That’s how I get here. The front door is easier to find, but it’s harder to get to the chamber this way. The back door is for…well me.” He then pulled the hood over his head and looked towards the mob.
The eldest women stepped forward, pitchfork in both hands, “Where is Spiderlegs?” She shouted.
The fake Cartographer cleared his throat and then spread his arms apart, attempting intimidation, “Who dares to enter the Dragon Dungeon?”
“Who’re you supposed to be?” someone from the crowd shouted back.
Seth could see Kot’s shoulders sink, before puffing his chest out a bit, “I am Cartographer!”
Even with the sound of battle echoing behind him, Seth could feel the silent reaction start to choke both him and Kot. The crowd visibly tightened their holds on their makeshift weapons and Kot turned around. “Into the fire my friend!” He shouted, grabbed the back of Seth’s vest and started to run away, deeper into the chamber with a dragon and two heroes.
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