Passing through the shadows back to the Lich’s lair was a miserable experience for Krulm’venor. During that brief trip into the dark, he felt like every bone in his metal body had its marrow replaced with ice. The process was almost instant, but he felt deeply disoriented by the lingering feeling that he’d been lost in the darkness between Mournden and the summoning circle the Lich had built on the fourth floor of its ever-expanding lair for weeks not seconds.

As bad as that little jaunt was, though, it wasn’t as miserable as spending weeks walking back to the surface while he held the severed head of the rock creature he’d slain. The defeated monster couldn’t, or wouldn’t die, and it looked at him with such sad eyes whenever his fires flared to life to fight off anything that thought to cross his path.

The thing tried to speak, but no matter how many times its mouth moved, there were no words. Krulm’venor didn’t envy it, but it lacked the motivation to disobey the Lich. Not anymore, and certainly not for this. Maybe if it had been a dwarven construct, he could have found some flicker of defiance, but now all he could do was use the last vestiges of his willpower to try to block out the worst of the voices that echoed in its skull.

They didn’t even sound like goblins anymore. That was the worst part. Every deranged, half-broken soul in his mind sounded like his own voice now. Like he was talking to himself, or maybe that he sounded like a goblin now. It was hard to say, and that was a subject that didn’t bear too much thinking about.

It was only when he finally reached the Lich’s experimental laboratory that he could set down his burden in a dish of lead prepared for this purpose. The Lich did not trust that even that formidable layer would be enough to imprison the earth spirit until it understood its nature better, so it was held separated from the ground by three drudges that would hold that burden uncomplainingly for all eternity if necessary.

As Krulm’venor watched, the thing’s face began to twist into an expression of agony, and its voiceless mouth opened in a silent scream. That was a moment that the fire spirit understood only too well. The Lich had torn him to pieces and then picked through the ashes for enough of a spark to rekindle him a hundred times as it pried the secrets out of his soul.

All any of them could hope for was that the Lich killed it on accident in the course of its experiments. That was unlikely, with such a durable specimen.

Krulm’venor stood there blankly, waiting for new orders. He worried that if he turned away too soon, the Lich might force him to watch the whole thing, but that was not to be, for he was quickly ordered to another room, and the dancing blue flames showed the way.

“I’ve been busy while you’ve been gone, Krulm’venor,” it whispered darkly in his ear. “All these months, I’ve been thinking about how I could best reward you for all the loyalty you showed me on your recent mission to the dwarven kingdoms.”

Krulm’venor shuddered at those words, certain nothing pleasant was going to follow them. The only thing he’d been loyal to was his own kin, and that would cost him now.

“It’s been such a lonely time for you, and I must confess that your body has held up poorly under the strain. I thought it would do better, but then I thought that about you too,” the darkness in his mind gloated, momentarily quieting the chorus of other voices. “So I’ve decided to make sure you’re never lonely again.”

As Krulm’venor opened the door that was indicated with numb fingers, he beheld a series of goblin skeletons cast in metal. There had to be at least fifty of them, and each was more twisted than the last. Krulm’venor realized that the Lich must have gone through many iterations to find something truly terrible to repay him for his resistance, and that sent a shiver of fear down his spine as he looked at the ugly bronze things and tried to figure out which one he was going to be trapped inside.

For a moment, as the fire spirit looked at the slumped and twisted metal figures, he considered apologizing and swearing that he would do better. Only his pride stopped him from pleading. Well, his pride and his certainty that it wouldn’t do any good.

Instead, he asked, “Which is to be mine, then,” flatly.

The only answer came in the form of a drudge that moved out of the shadows and opened the lantern. Krulm’venor tensed, and he almost ripped the thing’s head off rather than letting it do what it had been ordered to, but before he built up the rage necessary to defy the shadow that was smothering him, it was done. With a single crude motion, the monstrosity plucked the glowing blue coal from his skull and rendering him nothing but a helpless disembodied spirit once more.

Then he was carried over to the largest of the goblin bodies and forced inside of it. A head shorter than his old body, but a head taller than the rest of the bodies in the room, it felt somehow claustrophobic compared to his old body. It was like his fire wasn’t getting the air it needed to truly breathe, and he started to hyperventilate, despite the fact that he had no lungs.

“Yes, it will be a tight fit,” the Lich whispered. “I had to make room for a lot more than you in there, after all.”

“What… what did you do?” Krulm’venor asked as the fire began to spread to his bones, and the goblin souls hidden away inside slowly came to life to feel his heat. In his last body, they had been processed, and so they were incomplete and fragmented, but here every one of them was whole, and it hungered for him.

“I’ve made sure that you’ll never be alone again,” the Lich responded. “Now that you’ve had a chance to bathe in the souls of your old tribe, I trust you’ll have no problem integrating this much strength into you for the dark days that lie ahead.”

Krulm’venor wanted to answer, but he couldn’t. The first goblin had already latched its teeth into his throat and was trying to murder it. The fire spirit fought back with every ounce of strength he had as an all-out melee quickly developed in his soul between the part of him that was still mostly dwarven and the dozens of tainted goblins that were trying to devour those parts.

Physically he only stood there trembling as his violent and inhuman screams echoed down the hallways of the labyrinthine lair. As he struggled, the fire in his eyes and in his chest began to burn brighter and brighter, and soon he erupted into a nova of flame that filled the room with a blue fire and burned away everything flammable into ash.

The shadow of the Lich retreated briefly from the brightness, but even as Krulm’venor started to get a handle on the unruly parts of his soul, he noticed something strange. All of the other goblin skeletons came slowly and shudderingly to life as their eyes filled with fire and their limbs began to spasm and jerk.

A few seconds after the first one came to life, it charged Krulm’venor, leaping into the air to pounce. He raised his arms to defend himself, but it vanished almost as soon as it touched him, filling up part of the empty space inside of this strange body that he’d found so constricting until now.

While he struggled to understand what had just happened and why his soul was being flooded with even more goblins bent on devouring him, another one of the smaller goblin bodies merged with him, followed by another and another.

Less than a minute later, the fire spirit was lost in a sea of screams and pain inside his own head. He’d been able to subdue a dozen of these creatures, but there were a hundred now, and they were all trying to murder him. The only shame was that none of them could die, not on the battlefield of his mind. They could only keep killing each other over and over as he endured both the agony his tormentors inflicted on him as well as the pain he inflicted on them in return.

All he could do was fall to his knees and scream as the Lich left him to get acquainted with his new body.

Once that little game was over with, the Lich turned his full attention from the tormented godling and back to the interesting specimen he’d brought with him from the deeps. The Lich could easily explain the purpose of Krulm’venor’s new body another day, but the dwarf wasn’t completely stupid, and it was confident that he would figure it out in time.

The whole thing had been created using tricks it had discovered as it studied the strange shadow entities that Krulm’venor had been kind enough to feed it. The 66 bodies were one, but thanks to the divisible nature of fire, they were also many. The godling would become a terrifying army unto himself. At least, he would if the process of integrating so many other souls that were needed to operate and drive so many other hands and feet didn’t drive him completely mad first.

The Lich believed that the experiment would be a success, though, and if it wasn’t, he had many other dwarf souls stockpiled now. It could just keep trying until it found someone strong enough to endure the unendurable, and then it would have its third horseman of the apocalypse complete.

Now it needed to figure out how to yolk this earth elemental to a body of lead and stone, and it would have a fourth, which would give it the weapons it needed to battle with any champion of any god that might oppose it.

The Lich studied its trembling soul and noted that it, itself contained many smaller pieces that might have been the souls of its gnomish summoners or ancestors, locking it into place. It would start there, in its examination, and expand outward. After all, when unraveling an intractable knot, one needed only to find a single loose end, and eventually, all would be made clear.

Clear was a harder concept when working with stone than with fire or water. It couldn’t even chain the thing to a body until it understood the creature’s true name for the binding spells. There was a monstrous strength, hidden in that pathetic, half-shattered head, and the Lich desperately wanted to add yet another element to its dark collection.

No, it didn’t just want to. It needed to. The storm clouds of war darkened the horizon now, and as soon as the first battle was fought, all the other gods that were in league with the lord of light would send their followers to strike against it. The Lich needed to be ready for anything because hiding would never be possible again in a few more days.

After that, it would consume the world, or it would be struck down in the attempt. There was no third option.