The sounds of axes were echoing through the plains. The caravan was slowly approaching the forest, and they could already see their clanmates hard at work. A tree fell as they came closer, and a late "Timber!" echoed through the forest. The trek took several hours, as the distance was bigger than expected. Finally, they arrived.

Horn threw himself into organizing the camp with Goran's help. A new coral was created for Gryphons, and the herd was sent off a bit away with some guards and herders watching over. At a similar distance, the other way a crafting space was set up. Thankfully his small mobile crucible survived the ordeal and was already heating up to meltdown some spare weapons into metal for more nails. A dozen crafters were scrambling around freshly cut trees, debarking, cutting into planks, and building very crude-looking wagons. Horn had a shouting match with his sole carpenter, almost punching the dwarf to get across the message that they needed a lot of them and fast, and that quality didn't matter. Even if they break down after a week, it would be a win in Horn's book.

In the middle of two groups, firewood was gathered, and a resting area was being prepared. Some provisions they brought with them were already being prepared into a small feast. Horn worryingly looked over the crates and barrels of food they had, which seemed entirely inadequate for their needs, but he knew they all needed a good meal. The morale was important. He saw several morale update messages waiting for him but was afraid to look into them.

Hours passed as the clan prepared. Some scouts returned with all clear messages, only to quickly turn around and get back in there. Ingrid was nowhere to see, but Horn had enough on his plate. He trusted she did her job and that no surprises would come up.

Finally, as the night began to set in, Horn ordered the end of the work. Slowly the sounds of crafting stopped, and the tired clan gathered around the fires. At a side, five crude wagons stood proudly, with another two almost completed. They were much smaller than the ones they left behind, had full wheels, which fathomed many breakdowns. However, they were ready, an amazing feat for a few hours of work. Another two were in the assembly process and should be ready before they would leave in the morning.

As they gathered, he brought out a book of Heroes, in which all names of the fallen were written. Horn hoped to later change it into a statue, or maybe a Hall of Heroes, a solid memorial to his people. However, for now, the ceremony went through. One by one, his people rose and, saying a few words added a name to the list. The cleansing had begun, as the last of them did his deed, Horn addressed the other races sitting at the sidelines. "Even though you are not of our clan, your people helped us survive. You didn't run from the fight. Your courage is commendable, join us and add to the book if you wish."

He saw them whispering between themselves, then one of the men rose to his feet and said, "Thank good King. My name is Portinus, I speak for thy. We thank for mind, but we good."

Horn was perplexed for a moment, the man spoke gibberish, but then a realization came to him. They didn't know dwarvish, or almost none of them did. He nodded absent-mindedly and wondered how that revelation would affect him. He recalled not having any issue while talking with either Ellaine or Shadow in the arena, and he remembered his people talking with others out there. As the feast began, he took Sigrid to the side, asking for that, "Ch- Horn, the explanation is easy. The grounds of the proving grounds are blanketed in translation spells. Everyone within them can understand all other languages without any effort."

"Huh, that makes sense, but what now? We have a group that we cannot talk to!"

"It is not a problem. Many of our own know trade language, most of the newcomers know it too. You should learn it, I can teach you. Also, I am proficient in nine languages. However, please do not advertise that. It might come useful."

Nodding, he answered, "Good idea, did you learn anything useful about them?"

"Not too much. They are still in shock. Their return to the land of the living wasn't a peaceful one. They were summoned at the Soul Well, we defended, by the necromancers. The guardian allowed the head mage to claim the portal, as he didn't know about his dark magic. The Elf took advantage of that, summoning his comrades, guards, and slaves, throwing the latter into work at the mines. They went through hell, but they don't seem to be dangerous. I'll keep monitoring the situation."

"Very well, let's get back to the feast."

---

Sometime later, Horn was sitting with Goran. They shared a mug of ale; the bitter taste was refreshing after the day of work. They talked about the clan affairs when Horn changed the subject, "So what do you think about your new class?"

Goran took a long sip before replying, "Chieftain, I'm happy with it. I know I'm not the commander I thought I was. You managed to prove that right many times already."

"Stop pitting yourself. You're a great warrior. I really couldn't want anyone else."

"That's not true. I might be adequate, but I'm not great. I know my place, the lessons were hard, but I think I've learned them. I've seen so many perish under my command. I've seen the destruction of my people and was reminded of it again." The dwarf stopped looking into the fire. A grimace of pain went through his face before he added, "Too many dead, too much suffering. I'm tired of it. I'm done with fighting if I don't have to."

That surprised Horn, but nodding, he replied, "I’m fine with that. I might need you and your expertise, but if I can help it, I’ll keep you from the frontlines.”

“Thank you, chieftain.”

A silence fell on them, each dug into their own thoughts. But then Horn asked, “So what do you want to do now?”

“I want to teach the new dwarf about warfare, to teach them how to avoid mistakes I’ve made. I want to settle down, maybe fight a bit in the arena, where it’s only a sport.”

“Sounds like a pleasant retirement. I’ll help you if I can. Did you ever think about marrying?” Just after asking, Horn noticed that was the wrong question. The familiar pain returned to Goran’s face, the same he saw at the mountain pass valley. The pain of loss.

“I had a wife and a daughter. They – “ The dwarf stopped, wiping a tear before continuing, “ they were among the refugees heading towards the Soul Well, they’re dead. Orcs killed every single one of them.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want t -, I -, I don’t have words to say how sorry I am. But are you sure? Maybe they made it?”

“I doubt that. They were in the back of the column. King ordered so to make sure we’d hold the line as long as possible. They’re gone, and I didn’t say good-“ Goran spoke slowly when a shout from nearby interrupted him.

“To arms!” Someone yelled.

Horn jumped up, grabbing his axe. He called for a squad to assemble on him, ordered Goran to gather the rest of the clan, then ran towards the voice.

Around fifty yards from the camp, where they placed their sentries, there was a small gathering of five dwarves. They were kneeling over another one, vigilantly watching their surroundings. As Horn got to them, he asked, “What’s happening?”

“Something got Iruv, never seen anything like that, Chieftain.” One of them replied.

Horn looked at the body on the ground and was stunned. The dwarf was halfway between a living being and a stone statue. The upper half of his body just turned into the stone. A look of surprise was still visible on his face, despite a large crack on it. Horn knew there was nothing he could do for the dwarf. He scanned his memory of what could do something like that when he heard a voice from behind.

“Basilisk, not a mature one yet, but quite close to that.” Turning, he saw Herrak emotionlessly commenting on the situation.

“A basilisk? Aren’t they supposed to live in caves and swamps?”

“No, any dark place would suffice. They hunt at night and are attracted to light. One had to notice intruders on his hunting grounds and came to investigate. The sentry didn’t stand a chance.”

“Shit, do you think there are more of them?”

“I doubt it. They are loners, and the one in here probably retreated with all the commotion. We should be safe tonight, it wasn’t mature, so it shouldn’t be a female with young.”

“Good, now tell me how we kill it.”

Herrak's lips rose in a grisly smile, “I admire the need for revenge, but I’d advise against that. It's his terrain, and even if he used up his gaze, for now, he could still cost you a lot. They have almost stonelike skin, a very potent poison, and are great in stealth. You’d be throwing your men's lives away.”

“So you want a shot at it? How much will it cost me?”

“Nothing, we’re unequipped for such beast. The treasure trove it probably hoards isn’t worth the risk.”

“You want me to leave it like that?” Horn asked, seeing the grim faces of his warriors.

“Yes, sometimes you have to cut your losses when you’re still ahead,” Herrak said, with a questioning look.

Horn boiled inside, but he pushed back his anger. The adventurer was right. Hunting a deadly beast on its ground at night was a great recipe for losing more of his people. However, leaving it behind wasn’t something he wanted to do. Him emotions fought against reason, and finally, he said, “Fine, we’re heading back to the camp. But hear this, one day I’ll be back here for its head. That I vow!”

Surprisingly a quest popped up,

New quest: Cavern of Statues

You’ve found a trail of a basilisk on the border of Darkwood. The beast has a lair somewhere inside it. Find it and kill the creature to fulfill your vow of revenge.

Objective: Find and kill the basilisk

Bonsu objective: Find its lair and check its contents

Failure: Fail to achieve the goal within three months

Reward: Increased morale and loyalty of your clan, Hidden

---

The commotion and explanation of what happened took a while. The clan was angry but, after some time, calmed down. The celebratory mood was lost. Groups began to disperse as the dwarves went to sleep.

Horn found Goran watching the dark forest. Standing next to him, he said, “The first day and we already lost one, you were right saying it's not a safe place.”

“My chieftain, it's only the beginning.”

“I know, but we’ll push through. Going back on your story, I’m sorry what happened. If there is a way to bring them back, I’ll follow it. I owe you that much. And if it's impossible, we’ll make sure nothing like that happen ever again.”

“Thank you,”

The two of them stood there watching the dark woods. Horn was torn inside. This world seemed so much more real than the one he came from. It was just mesmerizing, the true emotions he felt in here. It was all polite and fake back on Earth, and here, there was no time for such things. Somehow the words of Miss Tyche came to mind: I hope we meet again in the real world. Despite the clear message, he wondered which one she meant.

---

Just as Horn was about to go to sleep, Sigrid appeared next to him. She produced a scroll, on which was a detailed analysis of his people. She patiently waited as he read through it.

 

The asterisk on the rider had a small annotation, Ingrid’s warriors. That had to be the four heavy armored ones he saw earlier. After this list, there were several more, smaller ones.

 

 

 

 

 

The letters next to the final list were described as a race. H for a human, E for an elf, and G for a gnome. Finishing the lecture, he sighed loudly. Fifty-two out of over a hundred that entered, his clan was gutted by the challenge. Even adding all new arrivals, they were at ninety, excluding him and his champions.

“Was it worth it?” He asked loudly,

Sigrid startled him as she replied. He didn’t notice her waiting around, “Is anything worth it? You can’t know what will happen. All of us support you, and you cannot fault or overthink your decisions. You are a leader that has been successful so far due to his boldness. If you start questioning your every decision, what will happen with those that put their faith in you?”

Horn nodded. The words were what he needed to hear. That surprised him. Again one of his champions took his head out of his ass. He chuckled, then said, “Thank you, Sparrow. Let’s rest now. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of our lives. And I promise you, it’ll be a ride!”