The Abyss - or "Abyssus", depending on who one spoke to - was dark. To be fair, the Abyss was always dark. In the beginning, this had concerned Benny, but now he was at peace with it.
Well, as much as one could be at peace with anything in the Abyss (which, by the way, isn't much at all).
Benny poured himself a cup of tea from a cast iron teapot. The drink brought him comfort, but he knew it wasn't the same as the stuff back home. In fact, it was nothing like the stuff back home. Benny found it best not to focus on the bitter aftertaste, or what the tea might be made from. All he needed to know was it was wet and warm, and the demons in The Spire brought it to him whenever he rang a strange little bell.
The bell was made of bone, and had no clapper inside to make it ring. Yet, ring it did, summoning a demon with a teapot each time.
While impressive, that wasn't the most amazing thing in Benny's journey through the Abyss. No, that honour went to Benny himself.
In the Abyss, Benny was a "somebody". He wasn't quite at the at the top of the food chain (actually, he was nowhere near it), but he was a leader of sorts.
Well, he'd been left in charge... of some stuff.
It was only until the big boss got back, but Benny was determined to prove his worth. For starters, he was going to make his mark on The Spire. People would remember his moment of power.
The demons in the Abyss were obsessed with bones. In many ways, they had a lot in common with the goblins topside, who created sculptures out of bones and displayed them outside of their homes in Skrillbrat. In the Abyss, demons created all kinds of things out of bone. It was bizarre for Benny to think that, at some point, almost everything in The Spire had come from inside a living being. Bells, chairs, tables (and table decorations), and weapons were just the tip of the iceberg. Demons really knew how to get the most out of the corpses they acquired.
Initially, all of the bone, and the murder that must have taken place to get it, freaked Benny out. Sure, he was (or had been) a knight, but murder for murder's sake (or murder because a demon needed a new bedside cabinet) made Benny feel uncomfortable. But now that he'd called the Abyss home for a while, he'd started to come around to the idea. Soon he'd make something for himself.
Benny had no idea how long he'd been down there, as time moved differently in the Abyss and no-one was concerned with ridiculous things such as clocks or calendars. The demons mostly just appeared to do what they wanted, when they wanted to do it. Unless they were summoned. Such had been the case with his superior. One moment they'd been in The Spire, the next there was just a scribbled list of instructions that put Benny in charge of two whole floors of The Spire. And the library... one mustn't forget the library.
Benny remembered the moment well...
*****
Flashback time - a time in the not-so-distant past...(it could have been a year ago or last week... Benny had no idea)
A small explosion rocked The Spire. Stone, rubble, bone dropped from the walls and ceiling in the room Benny was in. It was the room he spent most of his time in, and he'd started to think of it as 'his'. A lot of the time, Grymmbolt just left him to it, but she'd told him that he could use the room whenever he wanted, and it was handy for her to know where he was.
For most, having a demon know where they were at all times would probably be terrifying. But not for Benny. Not now. When Grymmbolt had found him, Benny had been sure that he'd be torn apart by the demon...
... but he hadn't.
Why? Because he'd proved himself to be useful. That usefulness had kept him and his bones from being turned into a weapon or a musical instrument. That usefulness meant that he didn't hesitate when the explosion hit. As soon as he'd registered that something wasn't right, he raced up multiple flights of stairs to the very top floor.
Grymmbolt's quarters.
With every step he took, Benny felt a little more trepidation. Just like in the living world, explosions in the Abyss rarely meant anything good, but they weren't uncommon. Demon battles were a regular occurrence as so few of the people in the Abyss were able to play well with others.
What was Benny going to find when he met his mistress? Another demon? Several other demon? A mutant monstrosity controlled by other demons? Anything was possible.
Outside of Grymmbolt's quarters, all seemed normal. The stone walls were still grey and dreary. The bone weaponry on those walls remained untouched. Everything even sounded normal. There were no cries of fury or pain. No clash and clang of blades. Nothing.
Benny jumped up and grabbed one of those weapons; a bone sword Grymmbolt had named the Pain-Shard. Demons were always very on the nose when it came to naming their weapons. In Benny's hands, the sword looked humongous, as it was clearly made from the bones of something far larger than even the tallest of gnomes. He gripped the weapon tight enough to turn his knuckles white as he opened the door into Grymmbolt's rooms.
Even though he was dead, it still felt like his pulse had quickened. He still trembled. Panic still rose in him at the prospect of what he'd find. That was the thing with the Abyss; it didn't seem to care that one was already dead, it still insisted on causing as much pain as possible.
Benny stepped into the room.
... and found it was the same as it always was.
To be fair, demons were not the tidiest of people, and so it was hard to tell if Grymmbolt had been robbed, or if she'd just left everything in an unbelievable mess as usual. It was also impossible to tell if the explosion had been the cause of an injury or death, as there was always so much blood (demon, human, gnome, goblin, and otherwise) splattered around. As far as Benny could tell, everything was as it always was. Everything was as it should be.
Except...
In the midst of all the mess and gore, a small area (one no bigger than Benny himself) had been cleared. Right in the centre of that area, perched on a dismembered finger, was a scrap of parchment, held in place by a filthy fingernail.
"What's that?" a voice said from behind him, the unexpected sound making him jump. Benny glanced over his shoulder to see he'd been joined by Terror, a lesser demon with delusions of grandeur. Her grey skin meant she blended into most of the stone walls perfectly. She could have been following him for ages and he'd never know. The thought worried him more than he ever let on.
"I'm not sure," Benny said, as he moved closer to the note. Pain-Shard remained ready in his hand, just in case the note was somehow homicidal. When he was alive, he would have laughed at such a thought, but this was the Abyss, and if there was anywhere where a note could harm you, it was the Abyss.
"What is it?" Terror asked, as Benny picked up the note, tearing it free of the fingernail. Luck was on Benny's side as it didn't bite him.
"It's a note," he said.
"I know that, don't I?" Terror said, rolling her pitch-black eyes. "What does it say?"
Benny squinted at the note and tried to decipher Grymmbolt's handwriting. She wrote in the demonic script that was used throughout the Abyss; a mixture of images and demonic words, combined with words and phrases borrowed from other languages. This particular note was a mixture of demonic, gnomish (Benny had been teaching her), and forest goblin.
"Well?" Terror wasn't known for her patience.
"It says she's been summoned," Benny said.
"By who?"
"Some gnome."
"Your kind. Have a word wiv 'em," Terror said.
"I don't know every single gnome," Benny said for what felt like the millionth time. In the Abyss, all demons seemed to know (or at least be aware) of each other. For that reason they struggled to grasp that Benny didn't know all other gnomes.
"So you keep sayin'," she said, apparently still needing some convincing. Benny wasn't sure how he could prove that he didn't know everyone. "Read the whole note out loud. From beginning to end."
"Okay," Benny said before clearing his throat a few too many times. Dead or alive, reading aloud in front of others still made him nervous. "It says... To Benny and Terror-"
"She really put you first?" Terror interrupted.
"Yes," Benny said before continuing. "I only have a handful of moments before I am fully summoned by a gnomish wizard. Once I know more details of my location, I will send a message to you both. You will then work together to break the summoning. While I'm away, Benny will be in charge of deciphering the forbidden texts and the library, as well as the top two floors of The Spire. Terror will be in charge of everything else, including continuing our involvement in our current wars and managing the rest of The Spire. Don't let me down. If you do, I'll find a way to break this summoning and make you wish you'd never existed."
"Don't see why you're in charge of anythin'," Terror said. "You've only just got 'ere. And you ain't even one of us."
"That's definitely what it says," Benny said, protesting.
"I know that," Terror replied. "I can bloody read, can't I?!" She sighed. "Still, if the boss trusts you, I s'pose I will too. Just know I'll be keeping a close eye on you. One foot wrong and I'll make you pay."
"Got it," Benny said.
"You better prove yourself. You've only got one shot at this."
Luckily, Benny already had some ideas.
*****
Back in the Shadow Castle, Petal felt light-headed. As she walked through the castle's corridors, she realised that she felt like that quite often. Almost every other day, in fact. Was it something she was eating? Or some kind of spell that was breaking through the boss's defences? She decided to inform Beef of it the next time she saw him. But, that would have to be later as the dungeon was calling her.
This was a literal thing. Every so often the dungeon called her name in a sing-song voice. There was no use in ignoring it, as the song only grew louder and more irritating the longer it look for her to reach the dungeon.
With her clipboard tucked underneath one arm and her axe strapped to her back, Petal marched into the dungeon. Almost immediately, the song stopped.
She was about to start her rounds when she spotted something floating up ahead.
The mutant hammer.
"Oh, bugger," she said. "That's not good."
*****
Morga watched as the goblin approached.
"Look," Morga said, "I can explain."
"Oh, I understand what's gone on here," Petal said. "The hammer tried to escape and discovered the enchantment."
"You can get him down, right?" Morga asked.
"That's the thing... I'm not sure. No-one's ever triggered the enchantments before," Petal said.
"So what happens now?"
"I'll have to ask the boss to come down. He'll be able to put the hammer back in its cell."
Morga didn't like the sound of that. A little while ago, when she thought the wizard was incompetent, she'd been more than eager to meet him. But now? Now she'd be happy if she never laid eyes on him. All magic users were trouble. Apart from Snagthorn. Morga sighed. She missed that old trickster. What was he doing now? She'd be willing to bet that he'd know how to get out of this mess.
As would Hector Cluescavenger.
It was time think. Morga popped a jelly-bean in her mouth and started to chew. The goblin watched her with interest.
"You want one?" Morga asked.
"No, fanks," Petal replied. "I've been feelin' a bit iffy recently. Not sure sweets will help matters."
"Suit yourself," Morga said, and chewed some more.
Morga popped yet another jelly-bean into her mouth. "I know your boss could do it," she said, studying Carnage's floating form as she chewed. "But you seem to know what you're doing. I reckon you could get that hammer down like that." Morga clicked her fingers. "I don't think you'd even break a sweat."
Morga watched as Petal thought this through. It was so much easier to use fear and violence to get people around to her way of thinking.
"I dunno..." Petal said.
"C'mon," Morga said, grabbing the bars now that her hands were free of sweet treats. "There's gotta be something on that blipcoard of yours that can help."
"Blipcoard? You mean my clipboard?" The goblin held the item up proudly as if it was a priceless artefact or held some kind of magical significance. Perhaps it did. Morga had no idea. The strange thing was the first of its kind that she'd seen. For all Morga knew, that blipcoard/clipboard thing could open the bloody door to the Abyss.
"Yeah, that thing," Morga replied.
"I dunno... I guess I do have a lot of stuff noted on it. But... I'm not sure... the boss should really be the one to do this."
"Really?" Morga spat the word out, even managing to send spittle and half chewed jelly-beans through the bars (neither of which appeared to be subject to any kind of enchantments as, unlike Carnage, they just splattered on the ground).
"What?" Petal asked.
"You're gonna drag your boss - the great and powerful Beef -" Morga somehow managed to say those words with complete conviction, despite still having no clue who Beef was or why she should give a shit. "- and get him to deal with this unimportant little hammer?"
Carnage growled at that, but Morga continued.
"If I were you, I'd solve problem myself and show the boss just how impressive and useful I could be."
"Well, when you put it like that..."
"It makes perfect sense?" Morga offered.
"But where would I even start?"
"You must have some idea."
The goblin shrugged.
"Show me your blip... I mean clipboard."
To Morga's surprise, Petal took a couple of steps closer to Morga's cell and angled the clipboard so the orc could read it. The item was covered in the messy scribbles that passed for goblin handwriting. While it wasn't to the same level as Morga's elegant calligraphy, it was still legible. Just about. If she squinted and tilted her head to the left.
There was plenty of information on the clipboard, but none of it seemed to pertain to Carnage's situation.
"Hey," Petal said, "I don't remember writing that."
*****
It was definitely her handwriting, but Petal had no recollection of writing the words at all. Even the language was strange. There was some goblin, which was to be expected, but there were also some strange symbols, and a couple of gnomish and trollish and ogre words thrown in.
"It's well weird," Petal said, as she stared at the writing. "There's no doubt that I wrote this, but I just ain't got a single memory of doin' it."
"What does it say?" Morga asked. The orc was squinting at the page, and Petal wondered if she needed help seeing it. There were spells and eyeglasses for that sort of thing. She decided to mention this to her new friend when there wasn't a mutant hammer suspended in mid air.
"That's another well weird fing... I don't really know. Obviously, I know some of the words, but the rest either don't make no sense, or they're weird symbols."
"Hmm... that is odd," Morga agreed. "But perhaps this is a mystery for another time. If you get the hammer down, I'll help you solve it. I'm pretty good at detective work."
"Sure..." The word came out as a whisper and Petal found it hard to look away from the strange writing. It meant something important, she was sure of it.
"Oi! Petal!" she heard Morga say. "Focus!"
Something small bounced off Petal's forehead. A jelly-bean. Petal was about to let her annoyance be known, but she had to admit that it had proved to be enough of a distraction to get her to look away from the weird words. And, besides, she couldn't stay mad at her new friend.
"Sure, sure, sure," she said, looking everywhere on the clipboard except at the weird note. Eventually, she felt like she'd struck gold. Petal ran a finger over a scribbled note. "I've got something," she said, her face lighting up with a smile that would scare most small children.
