“Please follow me. It’s been ages since I have entertained truly remarkable guests such as yourselves,” Archerbold said.


    Jeze heard the King switch to the Frostsworn dialect. She learned the language herself from her many months of adventuring with the Proven. This surprised her and her teammates.


    “I invite you to warm yourselves by my hearth, brothers, and sisters,” the Dead King said in the Frostsworn dialect.


    “You speak the Language of the Frozen North? How did you come to learn our words?” Dunar asked in his native language.


    Archbold scoffed and puffed his chest out. “Why I had to fight off the Frostsworn savages from invading my lands.”


    The Dead King noticed the scowls on the faces of his guests and quickly added. “I also traded with you noble people and have had the honor to learn your language.”


    Mikal shook his head and whispered to Jeze. “I am certain this will not end well.”


    “Relax, Micky!” Jeze grinned and poked the Healer in the ribs. “Have faith.”


    “I do have faith,” Mikal muttered and added, “That things will go poorly. They always do in this blasted Spire.”


    Archbold led them to a grand hall deep within his mausoleum with a long table covered with plates filled with dust and dirt. The food rotted away long ago. Magical torches on stained scones illuminated the room that was lined with empty burial spaces. Why were the spaces emptied? Where was Archbold’s tomb? Jeze wondered. Where was the Dead King buried?


    “Please sit and make yourselves at home,” Archerbold invited them.


    “If it is all the same to you, your grace, but we will remain standing,” Dunar replied.


    Helga and Rolfe circled the table and examined all the empty nooks and crannies that lined the walls.


    “How rude!” The Dead King exclaimed. One hand on his chest.


    “Apologies, your grace, but you must understand our caution. We are the living among the land of the dead,” Dunar replied.


    Jeze was impressed with the way their Leader presented himself to the Dead King. She had forgotten that Dunar was the son of a warrior chieftain. Speaking to nobles was not new to him.


    “Right, of course. So tell me, what brings you here?” The King asked. He also remained standing.


    The Proven glanced at each other and they silently agreed to allow Dunar to do the talking. The gray-eyed Leader sighed and answered the Dead King’s question.


    “We are from the Adventurer’s Guild and found ourselves in this realm. What is the name of this place?” Dunar stated truthfully.


    Archerbold grinned as he took up and drank from an empty cup. Jeze wondered if the King had gone mad.


    “Allow me then to welcome you all to the City of Avarice. A place of lies and falsehoods,” Archerbold proclaimed.


    “What does that mean? Lies and Falsehoods?” Dunar asked.


    The Dead King shook his head and responded, “Tsk tsk. It is my turn to ask a question. Tell me, have you heard stories about me? King Archerbold the Defiant?”


    Jeze did not, and she was certain that the others didn’t either. One thing Jeze did know was that there were once many small kingdoms that were eventually consumed and conquered by the Golden Empire. Her homeland of Narcadia was once one such kingdom. When Dunar did not reply, Jeze took a chance.


    “The Great Warrior King that stood against the Golden Empire,” she said.


    Archerbold beamed with pride. “Yes! You have heard of my exploits. I was the last King of Galica to stand firm against the Empire. But, alas, near the time of my death, my closest advisors and nobles succumbed to treachery. That was how my great kingdom became a part of the Golden Empire. It was not through conquest, I assure you. I was a mighty warrior king!”


    “Your grace, you mentioned that this was a city of lies and falsehoods. Please tell us more,” Dunar asked.


    Archerbold nodded and prepared himself for his response. “This place is a scam aimed to trick mighty kings such as myself. Did you know I was buried in this grand mausoleum with over a hundred servants and guards? They were entombed alive with me. This was in recognition for the great King that I was. A mighty warrior king that stood firm against the incredible power of the Golden Empire. I was promised immortality and godhood for my deeds.”


    The King drank from his empty cup again and turned to face the others. “What did you think of my swordsmanship earlier?”


    Dunar nodded. “You are quite skilled and live up to your mighty reputation, my grace.”


    Archerbold beamed with pride, and it appeared as if he literally drank in the complement as if it were sweet wine.


    “Were you not granted immortality?” Dunar asked.


    The Dead King scoffed. “Yes, a cursed existence as a wretched undead. What is worse, the ruler of this realm, a Lich by the name of Lev Shabuyaton, has created this place to trap us foolish kings who believed that we could rise up as gods. He sends his Corpse Eaters to claim what little energy we have so that he can feast upon our greatness and grow in power.”


    “Lev Shabuyaton! That is the name we got from our research. The key to the Core Tunnels,” Jeze whispered to Mikal.


    The Healer nodded and turned to Jeze. “I do not like this place. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it.”


    Dunar made a show to look around the wretched tomb and say, “But surely you are not at risk. You were entombed in this great palace, which is a fine testament to your greatness.”


    Archerbold drank up the complement with a smug look of contentment upon his leathery gray-skinned face. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    With the price paid, Dunar asked, “We encountered a creature outside with coal black skin and red eyes. It moved extremely fast, and its howl brought terror to the soul. What do you know of this creature?”


    Archerbold grinned, proud of what he knew. “Ahh, yes, you faced the Wendigo. They are savages, you see. In life, they were cannibals. They believed they became stronger from eating the flesh of their fellows. Truly nasty business, and now they are cursed to their horrid existence. But fear not, my friends. The Wendigo dare not enter my halls. You see, it fears me!”


    “Your grace, you are truly a mighty and noble warrior,” Dunar said with a bow.


    The Dead King puffed out his chest as it swelled with pride. Jeze rolled her eyes, but she knew what Dunar was doing. The currency for Archerbold was to feed his ego. In doing so, he freely gave up important information.


    “Where does Lev Shabuyaton reside?” Jeze asked.


    Archerbold scowled at Jeze with disgust clearly etched upon his dead face.


    Jeze cleared her throat and added, “It would please us, your grace, if you would share your wisdom.”


    The Dead King nodded with satisfaction. “The cursed Lich resides near the giant glowing pillar. Surely you have seen it? It is comprised of the poor souls that he has harvested from this grand city of the dead. It is only a matter of time before he will claim me, I fear.”


    Archerbold slumped down in a chair, clearly depressed. The Proven gathered around.


    “I grow bored of this place. Let us leave and fight our way to this Lev fellow,” Rolfe stated.


    “Ya, I agree!” Helga exclaimed.


    Dunar glanced up at the Dead King. Archerbold remained slumped in his chair and was twirling his empty cup. “At some point, we will need to head out. In the meantime, we can still learn more from him.”


    Mikal snorted. “That arrogant, pompous fool? I doubt it. However, I am not sure if we should head out. It would be suicide.”


    “What of the other teams? Maybe we can find them, we stand a fighting chance,” Jeze suggested.


    Rolfe and Helga nodded in agreement. They preferred to do anything but talking.


    Dunar shook his head. “There are too many undead, even for us. Plus, there are stronger creatures that we do not know about. Creatures like the Wendigo.”


    Rolfe and Helga sighed. “Our Will is not strong enough,” the large Protector stated.


    “Ya, sorry for that,” Helga added.


    Jeze rubbed their shoulders. “You are getting stronger. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you two could withstand the Wendigo’s howl and be able to crush its bones!”


    Helga beamed, and Rolfe puffed out his chest.


    “Ahh, that’s why I love you, Jezie!” Helga grabbed the smaller girl in a powerful embrace.


    “None of this helps us!” Mikal snapped.


    “Let us gather more information,” Dunar suggested.


    The Frostsworn Leader called out to the Dead King, “Your grace, we seek more of your wisdom, for you are truly a remarkable warrior.”


    Archerbold perked up as if the compliment was a solid form of energy. “What is your question?”


    “How can we defeat the Wendigo?” Dunar asked.


    Archerbold rolled his undead eyes and replied, “Fire is how you set that creature down. You must burn it.”


    “We thank you, your grace. Your wisdom knows no bounds,” Dunar complemented the Dead King.


    “What other creatures exist outside?” Jeze asked.


    The dead monarch scowled at her. Jeze rolled her eyes and added, “Your grace.”


    Archerbold sat up in his chair and leaned his elbows upon the grand table. “The weak-willed enter this cursed city as Zombies. You have seen them. They are mindless and need to feed on each other. They are typically the first ones collected by the Corpse Eaters, for they are too dumb to flee. The next rank are the Ghouls. They are more clever. They were perhaps knights or even lords. But, their cleverness only extends to the fact that they know to hide when the Corpse Eaters come. Otherwise, they believe that if they feed upon enough zombies, they can advance. They are fools!”


    “And what of you, my grace? Clearly, you are a mighty lord of this city,” Dunar stated.


    The Dead King’s chest puffed out with pride. “I am a Wight. A powerful undead warrior.”


    Mikal grabbed Jeze by her elbow and pulled her close to him. “This is bad news. We must leave this place.”


    “What are you talking about?” Jeze whispered back.


    “I have read about Wights. They are truly evil creatures that feed upon the souls of the living,” Mikal answered.


    Jeze motioned for Dunar to come to her and Mikal. Archerbold watched with dark eyes. The two whispered into the Leader’s ears.


    “It is rude to whisper at my table!” The Dead King roared as he rose to his feet.


    “Apologies, your grace. My Priest here does not feel worthy to speak in your presence,” Dunar responded.


    Archerbold raised an eyebrow. “Oh? That makes sense. My greatness does have that effect on the lower classes. But what of her? Why does she feel so bold as to speak to me?”


    Dunar pulled Jeze close to her and responded, “Because she is my wife and of noble blood, like myself. But, adventuring has made her forget her manners sometimes.”


    Jeze scowled at Dunar, but his answer appeared to appease the Dead King.


    “Adventuring is a good way to build strength and character. But, one must not let it ruin one’s manners,” Archerbold stated.


    “Wise words from a wise king,” Dunar said with a bow.


    Jeze shook herself free and scowled. With a deep sigh, she asked, “Your grace. What can you tell us of the Corpse Eaters?”


    “Why do you want to know such things? You need not worry about them. You are safe here!” Archerbold snapped.


    “Your grace, we are adventurers. We seek knowledge and wish to make ourselves stronger. We strive to be wise like you,” Dunar replied.


    Rolfe and Helga gripped their weapons and gritted their teeth. Jeze knew they disliked seeing Dunar suck up to the Dead King. It struck their pride deeply, and the two were prepared to rip apart Archerbold and grind his undead bones to dust. She held up a calming hand to them.


    The Dead King nodded and replied, “I support your search for knowledge, and you are lucky to have found me. Or rather, it was fate for us of noble birth to encounter each other in this vile place. The Corpse Eaters serve the Lich. They are magical constructs made of flesh and steel. They are huge, with the strength of a hundred men. It would not be wise to face them. It is best to flee and hide when they approach.”


    “Your grace, allow me a moment to speak to my servants,” Dunar stated.


    Archerbold nodded and drank from his empty cup. Mikal and the others scowled at the Frostsworn Leader.


    Dunar ignored their glares and said, “I believe the undead hide when the Corpse Eaters arrive. I think that is the best time for us to move. It is easier for us to hide from a few then from many.”


    “Are you mad? Did you not hear what he said about them? What if the Corpse Eaters find us?” Mikal snapped.


    “Then we fight them!” Rolfe boomed.


    “Shhh,” Jeze hissed and glanced nervously at the Dead King. “Oh, no,” she said.


    The others looked up. Archerbold was nowhere to be found, but they clearly heard the heavy iron doors close shut. They were trapped!


    “Your grace! What is the meaning of this?” Dunar shouted.


    Archerbold’s muffled voice came through the Iron doors. “Thank you, Frostsworn, for your company. It is nothing personal. You see, I need to consume your flesh to survive.”


    “Then why don’t you face us like a true warrior!” Rolfe cried.


    The Proven heard the faint sounds of chuckling. “I could, but you outnumber me. Plus, I know the Frostsworn to be fierce warriors. I am a wise king and know that it is better for me to starve you out. I will then feed upon your weakened bodies.”


    The magical torches went out, and the Proven were plunged into an oppressive darkness in a room that smelled of dirt and ash.


    “I knew only bad would come from this,” Mikal’s voice said in the darkness.