Gonnngg! The sound echoed through the still, warm air across the Foothills. Nine brave warriors gathered around a large fire near the entrance to the Crystal Caverns examining their weapons and armour for wear and methodically counting up supplies and equipment for the expedition ahead. A trio of Berona tigers wrestled with each other playfully nearby over a number of half eaten Kodrag haunches and the odd remains of a large rodent, probably a Kretch that strayed too near their scrum. The mounts were working off the restlessness that accompanied the long pause before the challenge in the mines started. The gongs signalled that the powerful wards barring the entrance to the caves would soon be lowered, allowing entry to the first nine warriors into the base camp just inside the mouth of the cavern.

Somewhere on the other side of the expanse of the great mountain, a similar gong had sounded and nine Magmar warriors eagerly and just as restlessly, marshaled by their entrance to the Crystal Caverns. Nearly half their number mounted powerful, ill-tempered creatures of earth and fire known as the Crion Zorb.

* * *

A dangerous looking warrior that bore many scars on his battle worn face casually walked over and sat down next to a rather nervous looking young novice that wore a hodge-podge of battered steel cutthroat armor. “First time in the caves?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Yessir. I heard we get the chance to face off against third and fourth ranked Magmar warriors in the challenge of the Crystal Caves, so I thought I would come and test my sword against some real foes,” Argon said as boldly as he could, but the slight waver in his voice betrayed his growing uneasiness.

“Well, that you will friend… Bear in mind what lies ahead in the caverns is nothing like fighting them Kretches in the Free Meadows. This is the real thing! We’re gonna face nine Magmars and some of them will be mounted on those accursed four legged slugs they call Zorbs. Careful with those beasties, you don’t really want to mess with one. Once inside, stick close to me and focus on mining. If I get attacked in there, don’t join the fight but scramble to get back to the base with any crystals you have packed. If you get attacked in there on the other hand, slow down and don’t lose your head. I’ll get to you as soon as I can,” the veteran grinned. Clearly, his intention was not on mining.

The young warrior relaxed a little and extended his hand and introduced himself “I’m Argon,” he said, admiring the deep blue vestige of the Seekers Clan that marked the veteran’s stylish gun-metal grey armor. This veteran of the challenge had to be a fourth ranked warrior and of notable wealth to afford a full suit of matching armor.

The Seeker accepted Argon’s handshake in the warrior’s grip. “They call me MindOfTheDark,” he grinned even more broadly. “Check your stores and make sure you have lots of poison and a few Wraith summons. You’re gonna need them!” Rising up, MindOfTheDark quickly walked over to the tussling flury of Berona claws and teeth and extracted one from the fray. The tiger obediently fell in step with his owner and they walked over to where a pile of unattended supplies lay.

Argon watched mesmerized, as his new-found ally knelt on the ground facing westward towards the setting sun and began meditating. The crimson and orange from the skies shimmered off of the veteran warrior’s armor setting him ablaze against the backdrop of the lengthening shadows of the surrounding foot hills. The great Berona tiger lay down nearby and waited patiently. For a long moment, it was as if there was a pause in time. The lights flickered and danced off of a blazing warrior’s armor and slowly waned as the sun finally dipped down below the horizon. As night took over from day, the warrior who called himself MindOfTheDark slowly opened his eyes and looked over at his faithful mount, who answered back with a deep rumbling pur.

MindOfTheDark stood, stretched and methodically began strapping on his finely crafted katana over his back. Argon imagined the Seeker’s opening move as being a swift over head strike or angled spear thrust on the initial sword draw. The wakizashi, he slipped through a sash on the left side of his waist, where he could draw it after his opening strike and bring a secondary weapon to bear against his foe. Yuyami-Ryu! It had to be - the twilight derivative of the dual sword style that locals called the “Dodger” style.

As Argon looked on, there was no sign of a grin on his face now but fierce determination and a cold seriousness about the battles that were to come. Clearly the mental fight had already begun and soon the exhausting discipline and stamina that this swordsman’s style demanded of its disciples would soon take over from conscious thought. The flurries of attacks coupled with feints, parries and high energy dance like retreating motions would be a sight to behold.

Gathering up his own modicum of vials and scrolls, Argon was reassured that he had brought along ample poison and a pair of small amulets to summon defensive Phkadd Wraiths to his aid. He realized he had no idea of what to expect next, and his stomach knotted even tighter but there was no turning back now. Biting back his pride and natural desire to fight, he focused on what he had to do inside. He must be on the defensive, must stick close to the stronger warriors and mine crystals to help his team to victory in the challenge.

Gong! Gong! Gong! The air became electric as the wards came down. It was time to enter. It was time to mine and fight! “For Valour!” nine warriors screamed in unison as they surged through the gates into the awaiting base camp.

Author: ArgonTheHooded