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Chapter 33: Land of The Giants

  The massive skeleton let out a hollow, rattling growl as it lifted its rusted greatsword, the ancient metal gleaming dully in the eerie green light.

  Thorin tightened his grip on his axe and planted his feet. “Stay behind me,” he barked, stepping forward to meet the monster head-on.

  The skeleton swung, its attack coming down like a collapsing building. Thorin barely managed to twist aside, raising his axe in a desperate block. The impact sent him staggering, his boots scraping against the stone floor.

  Kaia raised her staff, chanting as glowing runes flared to life around her hands. “Hold Monster!” she shouted, sending a wave of energy crashing into the giant skeleton.

  The spell struck true, wrapping spectral chains around its limbs. The skeleton shuddered—but then, with a terrible creak, it simply shrugged the magic off.

  Kaia’s eyes widened. “That should have worked—”

  The skeleton swung again, and this time, Thorin barely had time to brace himself. The greatsword slammed into his shield, sending him skidding backward with a grunt of pain.

  “I can’t hold this thing forever!” Thorin growled, rolling his shoulders. His armor was already dented, his breathing labored.

  John narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Let’s end this quick.”

  He stepped into the shadows—and vanished.

  A heartbeat later, he reappeared behind the skeleton, twin daggers flashing. He drove them both into its spine with a victorious grin—

  —only for both blades to pass cleanly through the empty space between its vertebrae.

  John blinked. “Oh, come on! At least pretend to have a weak spot!”

  The skeleton answered by swinging a massive bony fist. John barely had time to register the movement before the blow connected, sending him flying across the room. He hit the far wall with a crack and crumpled to the ground in a heap.

  Kaia gasped. “John!”

  Thorin let out a ragged breath, barely dodging another attack. “He’s fine. Probably.”

  John groaned, rolling onto his side. “Yeah… totally meant to do that.” He pushed himself up, shaking the stars from his vision. “Okay, new plan. Either of you pick up any new skills lately?”

  Thorin grunted. “Nothing useful. And I can’t take much more of this.”

  Kaia hesitated, frowning in concentration. “I think… I might have something. A spell to make allies move faster, but I haven’t had a chance to use it.”

  John’s face lit up. “Now we’re talking! Hit me with the haste!”

  Kaia raised her staff and chanted, a bright blue glow swirling around John. The moment the spell took hold, he felt it—his limbs lightened, his vision sharpened, and the world slowed around him.

  “Oh hell yes,” John grinned.

  Then he was moving.

  He blurred with speed, weaving around the skeleton’s attacks, his daggers flashing as he slashed again and again. But no matter how many times he struck, the thing refused to fall.

  Thorin cursed, staggering back from another heavy blow. “Go for the joints!” he bellowed.

  John’s eyes flicked up, locking onto the creature’s knees, elbows, and wrists. “Oh. That is a good idea.”

  With renewed focus, he darted in low, slashing at the giant’s knee joint. Bone cracked. The skeleton staggered. Another slice at the elbow, and its greatsword arm went limp.

  The creature reeled, unbalanced.

  Thorin saw his opening. Without that giant sword flying at him he could attack. He swung his axe at the giant's knee over and over again.The creature was so distracted with John's numerous attacks it didn't notice Thorin hacking at it's knee. Until with a mighty swing the limp severed.

  It bellowed a thunderous roar at the limb coming off. Thorin stepped back as the skeletal giant fell right at his feet.

  Then he stomped.

  His boot shattered the creature's skull into dust the impact sent a deep, resonating boom through the chamber. The stone beneath the skeleton cracked.

  Silence.

  Then John, still vibrating with speed, pumped a fist. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

  Kaia let out a long breath, steadying herself. “I am so out of mana.”

  Thorin winced, rolling his shoulder. “And I might have some broken ribs.”

  John grinned, sheathing his daggers. “Worth it.”

  ***

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  They moved slower now, nursing wounds and brushing bone dust from their gear. The tunnel beyond the giant’s chamber sloped downward, the walls slick with condensation and veins of moss that glistened in the flickering torchlight. Somewhere deeper in the dark, a faint hiss echoed—wet, sharp, and wrong.

  “I vote we don’t find out what made that sound,” John muttered, adjusting his grip on his dagger.

  Kaia managed a tired smile. “If only it worked that way.”

  They rounded a bend—and froze.

  A trio of skeletal archers stood ahead, lined up behind a makeshift barricade of broken stone and splintered crates. Their bows were drawn, hollow sockets glowing with blue fire.

  “Down!” Thorin shouted, raising his shield just in time. The first volley screamed through the air, slamming into his shield with a force that rattled the entire corridor. The metallic tang of bone-tipped arrows echoed like drumbeats.

  John dove behind a shattered column, tucking into a crouch. “Great. Ranged undead. My favorite.”

  Kaia knelt beside him, gripping her staff tight. “I’ve got enough for one spell—maybe two, if we're lucky.”

  “Make it count,” John said. “Thorin, you charge them. I’ll slip around the flank and clean up.”

  Thorin grunted in reply and burst from cover. Another volley clattered against his armor as he weaved, shield raised high.

  Kaia stepped out and raised her staff. She chanted a swift, sharp spell, and a pulse of holy light surged down the corridor. One skeleton exploded in a burst of cracked bone and scorched armor. The other two staggered but remained standing.

  John didn’t wait. Shadow Step surged through him, and he vanished into the gloom.

  He reappeared behind the rightmost archer, already mid-swing. His dagger punched into the spine at the base of the neck, twisting sharply. The skeleton lurched, its limbs locking before collapsing in a heap.

  The final archer pivoted, loosing an arrow point-blank. John threw himself to the side, the shaft grazing his shoulder and drawing blood.

  “Too close,” he hissed.

  The skeleton raised another arrow, but Thorin slammed into it from the front with a roar. His axe crashed down in a brutal vertical cleave, splitting bow, arm, and skull in one brutal motion. Bone splinters sprayed the walls.

  Breathing heavily, the trio regrouped near the ruined barricade. Kaia leaned against the wall, face pale but alert.

  “That’s it,” she panted. “I’m dry.”

  John rolled his shoulder, wincing. “Shoulder’s hit, but I’ll live.”

  Thorin crouched, picking up one of the cracked bows. “Not bad craftsmanship. For a corpse.” He dropped it with a clatter.

  They stood in the silence that followed, waiting to see if more would appear—but the corridor remained still.

  John exhaled. “Next time, I vote we skip the room with the glowing-eyed skeletons.”

  Thorin chuckled, rolling his shoulders. “Dungeons aren't a democracy.”

  John smirked. “Yeah, but one of these days, they might be.”

  Kaia pointed further down the passage. “Let’s move. We’re not safe here.”

  John looking at Kaia " Are you good to keep going? You don't look so well"

  With a defiant look Kaia said "Yes John I've been this low on mana before. The headache that comes with it is terrible but we must push on"

  John turned to Thorin and the big man nodded.

  The trio turned and pressed deeper into the tunnel, still wary, still together—ready for whatever the dungeon threw at them next.

  ***

  The tunnel continued to twist and narrow, walls closing in just enough to make John feel claustrophobic. Moisture dripped from the ceiling in a slow, maddening rhythm. Their boots squelched on damp moss, and every creak of leather or clink of metal echoed too loudly in the confined space.

  “Tell me we’re done with surprises for the night,” John muttered.

  “Don’t tempt fate,” Kaia replied. “You remember what happened last time.”

  John groaned. “Right. Don't remind me.”

  A low growl interrupted them. Thorin raised his hand in warning, and they halted in place.

  From the gloom ahead emerged a misshapen creature, its skeletal frame bulkier than a goblin’s, but hunched and animalistic. Glowing eyes fixed on them as it hissed—a feral undead hybrid of beast and man. Behind it, two more followed.

  “Undead wargs,” Kaia whispered. “Those things are fast.”

  The lead creature bolted forward with shocking speed, claws scraping stone. Thorin met it head-on, shield raised. The impact nearly knocked him back, but he planted his boots and shoved.

  John moved to intercept the second one, flanking left and using the narrow corridor walls to his advantage. He waited until it lunged, then leapt up and off the wall, twisting midair to drive both daggers down into its back. The creature screeched and bucked, trying to throw him off.

  Kaia backed up as the third one barreled toward her. She raised her staff, channeling raw light into a burst of force that caught the creature in the face and sent it tumbling. But it recovered fast, claws lashing out.

  “Kaia, duck!” John shouted.

  She dropped low as Thorin barreled through, swinging his axe with a furious roar. The weapon bit deep into the creature’s neck, nearly decapitating it. It collapsed twitching as Kaia scrambled back.

  The warg John had stabbed still writhed beneath him. It slammed into the wall, trying to crush him, but he kicked off and landed nearby, panting.

  “Resilient little bastard,” he muttered. “Let’s fix that.”

  He lunged again, this time jamming his blade under the jaw and up through the skull. The creature spasmed once and went limp.

  The first warg wasn’t done. It and Thorin were locked in a savage struggle—axe vs. claws, shield vs. fangs. Thorin’s armor was slashed in several places, and blood stained the edges.

  John flanked it. “Thorin, brace it!”

  Thorin snarled and rammed the creature against the wall with his shield, holding it in place with brute force.

  John drove a dagger into the base of its spine. Then again. And again.

  The creature collapsed with a groan and a crunch.

  All three of them stood still for a long moment, chests heaving.

  “Everyone alive?” John asked.

  “Barely,” Kaia said. “I’ve got one heal left. Anyone bleeding worse than they look?”

  Thorin inspected his side, then shook his head. “Just bruised. You?”

  John flexed his wrist. “Bit sore. Could use a nap and a donut.”

  Kaia laughed once, weakly. “You’re getting stew. If we’re lucky.”

  The corridor finally opened into a small chamber—a branching point or long-abandoned storage room. Cracked crates lined one wall, and a few broken barrels littered the corners.

  “Let’s rest here a moment,” Kaia said. “I need to recover before we find another pack of those things.”

  Thorin nodded, wiping gore from his axe. “Good call.”

  John sheathed his daggers and leaned against a stone pillar, breathing hard. “I take back what I said. Glowing-eyed skeletons? Not the worst thing down here.”

  Kaia smiled tiredly. “Welcome to dungeon life.”

  "So..." John said cautiously then in a rush " Do you think we can eat undead warg meat or is that a no..?"

  Kaia and thorin both threw their packs at John in answer.

  "OK OK geez I was just curious"

  ***

  Kaia sat down and folded her legs when John asked " I thought you brought some mana potions?'

  Opening her eyes she replied " I did but I'm saving those for in-battle refills. Outside of a fight, a few minutes of meditation should work just fine."

  Kaia sat cross-legged near the wall, staff resting across her lap, eyes closed in focused meditation. The faint glow of healing energy shimmered around her as she murmured quiet words under her breath.

  John glanced over, then turned to Thorin. “So… what now? We just sit here staring into the dark until something tries to kill us again?”

  Thorin grunted. “We could sharpen our weapons. Or check our gear.”

  John groaned and flopped onto his back. “Or we could talk about something that doesn’t involve blood, bone, or monsters.”

  Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  John looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then smirked. “Alright. Universal topic. Important stuff. What’s your stance on… sandwiches?”

  Thorin blinked. “Sand… what?”

  “Sandwiches,” John repeated, sitting up. “Two slices of bread. Something tasty in between. It’s an art form where I come from.”

  Thorin leaned back against the wall, thinking. “I’ve had meat between biscuits. That count?”

  John nodded. “It’s a start. Now, here’s the real question: hot or cold?”

  Thorin scratched his beard. “Hot. Cold meat’s for travelers and thieves.”

  John snapped his fingers. “Exactly! A man of taste. There’s something primal about a hot sandwich. Melted cheese, toasted bread, dripping fat…”

  Thorin made a thoughtful noise. “Back in the war, we’d cook slabs of boar on our shields over the fire. Slap it between some travel bread and that was dinner. Called it ‘Ironplate Bites.’”

  John laughed. “That’s incredible. Sounds like a grilled cheese with PTSD.”

  Thorin chuckled. “We had a sergeant who swore by adding pickled onions. Said it kept him regular.”

  “That’s the other magic of sandwiches,” John said, leaning in like he was sharing a sacred truth. “They’re customizable. Add a sauce? Fancy. Add an egg? Breakfast. Wrap it in paper and suddenly it’s portable cuisine.”

  Thorin folded his arms. “You sound like you ran a tavern.”

  John grinned. “Nah. Just a dad who watched too much cooking TV.”

  Thorin gave a short laugh. “You watched too much TV period.”

  They sat in a brief silence, the kind that came from a shared, odd moment of peace.

  Then John said, “We should invent a dungeon sandwich. Something we only eat after surviving something awful.”

  Thorin nodded solemnly. “With rat meat and fire-roasted mushrooms. We’ll call it the Survivor’s Special.”

  John leaned back against the stone and sighed. “Perfect. One day, when we get out of here, I’m opening a shop. ‘Delicious… in Cave.’”

  Thorin snorted. “You’re insane.”

  “Maybe,” John said. “But you’d eat there.”

  “…I would.”

  Kaia grunted and opened her eyes. She had regained some of the color in her face and looked better. Standing she said, "That would have gone much faster had you two not been talking about food the whole time."

  John shrugged and said "I was bored and the spirit of sandwiches was in me and I wanted to spread the word"

  Kaia suddenly looked shocked and raised her staff and muttered an incantation. John backing up in alarm arms raised "Whoa Kaia It was a joke Im not passed, again."

  Kaia smiled as she let the magic fade, "I know" and walked by John.

  Thorin let out a mighty laugh and followed her.

  "Haha real funny Kaia scare the poor earthling thrown into another world"

  Grabbing his own pack and following them John said to himself "Man I sure could go for a sandwich."

  [SYSTEM MESSAGE]

  Your impassioned sermon on the glory of hot sandwiches has reached the ears of the divine.

  You have been granted the Blessing of the Sandwich Saint.

  


      


  •   +1 Charisma when discussing food

      


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  •   Unlocks passive ability: Divine Layering – All meals crafted with bread provide +10% healing and a temporary morale boost

      


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  •   Reputation increased with: Hungry Spirits (+15)

      


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  Crustor is pleased.

  Shaking his head John runs to catch up.

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