It had been three days since the four of them began their campaign into the dungeon. Closing his eyes against the onslaught of dust, Dúnedain prayed for forgiveness. He wondered when he had talked himself into believing that he was still a good soul. Years ago. Maybe it had only become apparent to the stallion when he talked himself into accepting the gold these four desperate, deranged Coursers had offered in his fa...

Deep into the darker reaches of the tunnel, a small group of four Coursers, dungeon dwellers each, roamed through the dark, damp stone. The silence they listened to was suddenly pierced. The mournful cry was a long and haunting one, echoing off the stone walls like an old, traditional hymn of mourning. Grenwyx stopped, and her abrupt halt brought the whole group to a stop.   “Did you hear that?” Grenwyx as...

The blow came out of nowhere.  Seep woke with his head full of painful red spots frizzing like wool, every muscle in his body aching as if he slept in full armor again and his muzzle pressed into the dirt. He was shaking from the tips of his ears down to his hooves. He rocked back upright, lost his balance, and scrambled until his armor clanged against a cold, stone wall. Even as he choked on the taste of stomach aci...