Sleek gray rock whizzed by at a thousand miles an hour as a man clad in heavy grime covered plates of armor fell. He had lost track of how much time he had been falling for, his loose grip on consciousness making it impossible to even guess. the sun had not shown the bloody dark tunnel its light in more time than a man could comprehend, yet the walls could be seen as if some other force was present, lending its sight to those who came here.
It had been cold when the man began his accent, cold enough to frost his armor over and freeze the inside of his nose. It was growing warm now as if someone had lit a fireplace nearby, the flames growing stronger and hotter, throwing their warmth across a cold room. A light began to become visible far below, a distant twinkle that grew more intense with every passing moment.
The man wondered how he had gotten here and where he had even fallen from as his mind cleared and his senses fully returned. The air around him was deafening, pulling at any exposed skin, and tearing into his open eyes. The rocks were jagged now like thousands of dragon teeth pointed up into the distant mouth of the tunnel. Even a glancing blow from the wall would surely tear him to shreds as he tumbled out of control, but that would not happen.
A heavy armored fist clutched at something around the warrior’s neck, a chain that contained on it several charms and runes. One to the god of man and one to the tree mother the nymphs called their god, the latter being an honorable gift from royalty many decades ago. The third and last charm was simply an oak chip that had been cut and sanded into the shape of a large wolfs tooth, a reminder of home, his little brother had given him before he was carted away to serve the king’s army.
The hand grasped up all three and held them tight as the light had now grown as large as an outstretched fist in the man’s vision. The heat blowing up the tunnel was nearly unbearable when just minutes ago he had been freezing to death, while the wind rushing past him was still a deafening scream. He let out a loud cry as he turned into a headfirst dive and put his available hand on the knife strapped to his chest, the only weapon that had accompanied him down the tunnel.
The blinding light hit him like a burst of warlock magic, as if something had opened up to accept him inside the burning globe he was approaching. At that moment, the wind around him stopped and the temperature was a faraway thought, the long steel dagger leaving its sheath and finding its way to a ready position. The scream caught in the man’s throat as he impacted the light with absolute silence, there was nothing but silence in the blood tunnel now.
“Captain, that was quite a show, not many come to the bottom with any fight left in them” a deep female voice said.
He raised his head up to find himself in a massive chamber so tall the ceiling could not be seen and so wide the walls were only visible due to the small pin pricks that must have been far away torches. They were on a platform of stone and earth, as if someone had taken a mighty handful of the living world and set it in the chamber. The remainder of the chamber was blood, a lake of blood tens of feet deep.
The captain did not have to be told what the dark liquid was, he was all too familiar with the reek, yet this did not have the scent of the dead or the rotting, it smelled fresh and clean. He noticed a small table surrounded by three chairs in the middle of the island about fifty feet away. Armor creaked and popped as the man pulled himself up off his knees and slowly began making his way towards the center, peering around to find the source of the women’s voice.
“Very good Vern, you were always a sharp one” the women’s voice sounded again followed by a girlish giggle.
“Where are you witch?” Vern croaked out of his dry throat.
“How dare you captain, I am no witch” She responded, if there was an insult she had not shown it in her voice.
Vern made it to the chairs and reluctantly took a seat in one, not entirely sure what his situation was but knowing he was at the mercy of whatever dwelled here until he could wrap his hands around it. The chairs and table were plane aside from a small carving that wrapped its way around the side of the tabletop, one he was not familiar with, an old demon carving he assumed. The soil and rock looked as if it had been pulled from the Indigo Plains, hundreds of small flowers woven into the clumpy grass that filled in around the dark rocks.
An odd place indeed he thought to himself as there was a soft thump next to him, an apple, a green apple lay on the ground beside him. He picked it up and examined it closely, not a bruise or blemish on it, as firm and perfect as the ones his parents had made them pick so many years ago when he was just a boy. He felt warmth in his chest at the thought of his family again and how delicious those apples were, simpler times before he had become what he was now.
“You can eat Vern, I promise it’s not going to hurt you” The women’s voice came again except for it was right beside him this time, “Does it remind you of home?”
Vern broke his gaze upon the piece of fruit, whipping his head around and clutching for a knife he no longer had. It was a tall woman, as tall as he was at least, clad in a loose dark dress that came down fast fer feet to drag on the ground. She was a beautiful woman, a nymph, her light blue skin as vibrant as sunshine and her long black hair shining in the dim light around them. Small moth wings, the color of her hair with deep blue eye shaped spots on them protruded from her back, she looked down and smiled at him.
“Who are you?” Vern demanded in a low tone.
“I am the lady of the lake” She stated, smirking at him.
“What is your name?” He questioned.
“Gwen, my name was once Gwen, but that was so very long ago” She stated somberly.
Gwen took a few steps forward and placed herself in one of the chairs, crossing one leg over the other while clasping her hands together and leaning forward slightly. She studied the tense man in front of her, he had not noticed the rent in his armor or missing helm yet.
“You died Vern” she stated bluntly.
“What are you talking about?” He questioned, his hand subconsciously placing itself on the large hole just under his breastplate.
“Ran through by an orcish man mauler I’m afraid, nasty way to go, he bit your head too” She answered, wincing as the last few words came out of her mouth.
Vern touched the top of his head and felt the deep grooves of a scull sized bite that ran all the way around his head. As he did so his hand found something hard and jagged in one of the wounds, a chunk of broken off tooth from the beast that had ended him, he tugged hard to remove it from the bone. Vern examined the tooth for a moment, collecting his thoughts and piecing together the memories he had of his final battle.
“That’s a canine, a nice payday for whoever recovers my body” Vern said with a chuckle, “What is this then, Gwen? Where are we?”
“This is the lake of blood, Vern” She answered.
“Where the blood of the damned is collected?” he questioned in an uneasy tone.
“That would be correct, oh great warrior” Gwen answered with a smirk.
Vern looked around again, fear beginning to swell in his chest, he had not always been a good man but surely, he had not been damned to a place like this. War brought the worst out in men, it made them do terrible, unforgivable things and he had surely done what he had to over the years. Images of the witches he had burnt and the beasts he had driven out of caves and swamps to be slaughtered passed through his mind as if he were living it all over again. He had even killed a nymph once, not so beautiful as the one that sat before him, regardless a dark nymph was still a special being.
He caught her gaze and stared into Gwen’s eyes for a moment, she still had a smirk on her dark blue lips as she fidgeted slowly with her hands as if eyeing him up like an animal. The fear grew to dismay and defeat quickly as Vern had a realization of how helpless he was. The man growled as he looked down at his feet, and then to the apple still clutched in his hand.
“Why the apple?” He asked.
“The apple?” She questioned quizzically, “That’s it? No profound statement, or why am I here?”
“I understand why I’m here” Vern stated as he looked up and straightened his back, a tightness about his face.
“A peace offering Vern, it’s been many years, and I thought you might like one” She stated, leaning back in her chair.
“Why would you make peace with a damned soul?” He asked.
“I don’t, if you were damned you would have been drained and tossed in the corpse grinder by now” Gwen stated in a more serious tone now.
Vern looked at her, confusion plastered across his face ad he took a deep bite out of the piece of fruit, it tasted nearly too good to be of the mortal world. Several streams of juice made their way down his short beard as he crunched away, preparing his next question. Gwen looked to warm up as he ate smirking and playing with sparks of blue magic across her finger tips.
“Why am I here?” Vern finally stated, setting the apple core on the ground beside him.
“There's a monster in the lake and I need someone to take care of it” Gwen stated nervously.
“What happens if I die again in the lake?” Vern pressed.
“I don’t know, that’s never happened before.” Gwen answered quietly.
“And what do I get if I slay said beast?” Vern continued questioning.
“Whatever you wish Vern, I could even give you a house in the sky” Gwen offered.
“I’ll need my sword” Vern stated, wiping his sticky hands across his thighs before heaving himself up out of the chair and gazing out into the lake.
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