It’s a struggle friend, to say the least; to drag this burning log backwards up this incredibly gradual incline. If I was literally anything else I doubt I would have even noticed it, but as a rat my size, well, these things make a bigger difference to my day to day than you might think. I wonder what this place is. There’s obviously a connection to the hero, or uh, the heroes I should I say. But apart from that, dunno.

  Thankfully a lot of the log has already burnt and chipped away making the load significantly lighter than it was at the start. With my teeth sunk in to one end I walk backwards up the slope, straining my back and neck as I do so, my tiny legs shaking and twitching from the exertion. I wish I had brothers here, many rats could push fast. Wish queen was here to see, queen would be proud of my hard work yes-yes. Well, maybe not. Still.

  Soon enough we reach the top of the incline and I look back down at the significant distance I have overcome, with some pride in my tiny, sweaty body. The log shifts as I let go and begins to roll backwards. With a fearful spring I sink my teeth in again just in time to stop it, catching it before it rolls away all the way down again. Phew. Stepping back I drag it further away from the slope and take a minute to catch my breath.

  Curiously the fire-elemental pops out of the log and gives me a thumbs up and a smile. I wonder if she’s questioning the whole me being a rat thing? I guess not anymore. Might have been odd at first, you know? But I guess it’s just one of those things you get used to pretty quickly. Life can be weird like that. One day you’re partying with your friends in a secret demonic cult and the next you’re inside a burning log being dragged around a stronghold filled with corpses by a giant rat. That’s authentic dungeon life right there, friend.

  Looking around at the place we’ve arrived in I notice it’s a dead end more or less. The circular hall we are in, which lays at the end of the upwards incline is large and spacious with a raised platform in the center. Two large metal braziers sit on each side of the centerpiece, a large white-stone slab covered from top to bottom in human writing and scribbles that are carved into the ornate stone. Depictions of creatures, trash-mobs and other such things sit alongside the many different words. I even recognize some of them. Look, that one there is papa and oh! There’s the great old-one.

  Hmm, some of them I can’t quite remember though. There are dozens, hundreds of creatures covering the four sided mural. Before I get lost in my examination of the piece there is a sound and I turn to look at her, she is talking to me again. Now she points to one of the braziers still filled with wood. You sure? I look at her questioningly. She nods. Uh, okay. Well, you’re the boss. This one looks the same as the brazier in the other room but what do I know? Whatever. There is little else of the log left now apart from ash and crumbling tinder. Pulling her over to the brazier she looks at me questioningly wondering how I am going to get her up there now. Good question. Uh…

Oh!

I nod to her and gnaw off a stem of the wood, not much but long enough that I can carry her without literally burning my eyes out. Holding it out to her she seems to understand and jumps over to the far end of the ashy stick in my teeth. Okay, here goes.

  Taking a few steps back I get a running start, scampering up as much of the angled metal leg of the construction as I can. As soon as I start to feel the tug of gravity pulling me back down to the ground I brace myself and I leap, using my favorite, and only, ability. I shoot up into the air, fairly high for rat standards. Just high enough to wrap my legs around the edge of the construction, just high enough for her to leap off of the twig into the fresh pile of wood inside. My nails scrape against the rough metal as I slide down, losing my grip. Catching myself I land back on the stone floor below with rat-like grace.

  So, uh. Is that it? I look up to the elemental who is making herself at home in the basin, burning into some fresh wood. Breathing deep like a creature that had held its breath for too long, something that just managed to reach the surface a moment before suffocation. Cool. Well, I feel good about myself now. I mean, not that it has a point. She’s still going to run out of wood eventually and we’re all going to respawn in a bit anyways. But, well, you know. It’s about the journey, guy, you know? Yeah. You know.

  The dark room grows brighter and brighter as she burns more and more of the wood, the flames expanding and growing into an impressive blaze. Pointing a finger over to the other side she zaps a stream of fire past the monument and into the other brazier, lighting it up as well too. Firelight bounces off of the smooth stone all around us, filling the white-stone chamber with a yellow glow as if we were both inside of the blaze. The statues so far below seem to glow, their polished eyes and armor reflecting the bounding fire as if to signify the life and passion of the people they once represented. Looking at them I wonder, who were these adventurers?

  That look they carry. That determination, that… fire, for a lack of better words. They all remind me of the hero-party. Even in these old, dusty statues I can see there is something deeper there. Some purpose or calling that was so true that even a stone depiction of them managed to capture it. You know what I always wondered, guy?

  Why do adventurers clear the dungeon anyways? I mean, I know they do it. It’s just kind of their thing, you know? But why? I mean, as far as I know we’re just kind of living our lives down here until the hero-party comes to bash us into mush. I suppose it’s just what it is, I guess. Adventurers kill trash-mobs. We kill adventurers. Well, not really. But you know. In principle that’s how it should be. If there was any balance in the universe, that’s how it should be. But, well, that’s life.

Looking back to the elemental she gives me a smile and a nod and points to the monument. Curiously, I wonder what she wants? I can’t read you know. I’m a rat.

  Just as I think that I feel the ground shake and vibrate, my tiny bones rattling as something greatly heavy is set into motion. The tall monument slides backwards across the stone floor, slowly inch by inch as if moved by some magical force set into motion by the flames. But then I see the truth. Beneath the monument are long metal pipes that work into the side of the stone, into the braziers that are now both lit, steam escaping from the cracks of the broken ancient system. Neat.

  A sharp whistle cuts through the air and I instinctively fall flat to the ground, just in time as the arrow flies an inch above my tiny head. I feel a sharp pain in my ear as part of it is ripped off in an instant from the arrow which is longer than my whole body. It thunks against the monument and flops to the ground with a rattle, broken in half from the impact. Turning around, blood streaking down my fur I see her. That damned elf standing at the bottom of the slope, bow in hand. With clenched teeth and a sound, which I can only imagine being some variant of an angry hiss, she tosses the bow down and runs forward up the slant towards us, dagger in hand. Oh boy.

  She’s fast. I squeak, looking at how I can get the elemental out of here before the thief reaches us. The world erupts into light as fire rampages around us in a circle. As flames dance and twist out of the brazier creating a wall that builds up just before us. A burning magical flame that separates her from us. I see her stop just before it and flinch back at the intense heat. I hear a shout with my one good ear and look at the elemental. She’s yelling at me. People do that a lot.

One hand holding the barrier in place as fire streaks out of her and the quickly emptying basin as the wood burns away with frightening speed. Her other hand pointing to her left, to the passage below the monument. An order to escape on my own.

  I squeak in protest, I don’t want to leave her behind as odd as that sounds since we just met. But she shouts at me again with words I can’t understand but with an expression that I can and I know it’s not my place to argue. I nod to her, she nods back and I jump down into the opening and scurry-scurry down the way into the darkness.

Scamper-scampering forward until I hear the sound of the monument grinding to a close behind me as the fire goes out. Scurry-scurrying forward until I see the step of the staircase in-front of me.

Razmatazz

*~+---SPECIAL THANKS---+~*

Henry Morgan,  Shadowsmage, The Grey Mage, Spencer Seidel