by Tao Wong
“Beautiful! It reminds me of home. Except for the moving walkways. And the floating platforms. And the lack of rocs and harpies,” Omrak said to his friends as he drank in the view before him. As mentioned by the Northerner, the first floor of Porthos consisted of a single, expansive cavern whose bottom and top could not be seen by the naked eye. Low hanging clouds floated through the cavern, occasionally obscuring floating stone platforms, while beneath them, a never-ending mist roiled. Stone walkways, some wide enough to drive a caravan on, others barely large enough for a single person to walk, connected platforms. The never-ending groan of moving stone echoed continuously through the titanic cavern as walkways mysteriously moved, connecting new platforms without rhyme or reason.
“Right. So, nothing like home,” Daniel said with a smile. Already, he had shed and stored his travelling cloak and loaded his crossbow. Omrak glanced at the long-ranged weapon and quickly put on his skullcap to cover his head as well as a metal gorget for around his neck. It was not that Daniel was a bad shot. It was that he was a terrible shot. And yet, he persisted in using that weapon.
“Very well. I shall lead,” Omrak announced and pulled his sword from its sheath across his back. At first, the group were crowded together with other Adventurers exploring the floor, but as walkways split and split again, the initial crowd slowly faded, leaving the trio alone but for another party a few hundred meters behind them.
It was as the group were striding across a walkway four feet wide that the Dungeon monsters launched their first attack. A dozen Imps came screeching down from the clouds - scaled, warty figures gliding down on bat-like wings. The monsters were mostly black with shades of red that highlighted claws, pointed ears, and sharp, needle-like teeth.
“Imps!” Asin called out a second before Omrak and Daniel chimed in. Already, the Catkin had knives in her hand, assessing the arc of descent of the attackers before she threw.
Omrak had his own hatchets, but those throwing axes were precious to him. Rather than waste funds on potentially losing his weapons forever, Omrak much preferred to bat these monsters out of the air. As a trio of Imps neared him, Omrak launched himself into the air with a sudden jump, his attack catching everyone by surprise. A quick swing of his sword caught two of the three Imps leading the charge, slicing part of a wing off in one case and in another, tearing open its body. Not to be left out of the fight, the third Imp swiped a claw across Omrak’s face, foiled by a sudden duck of the neck. Even so, the attack left a light scar across his skullcap.
As Omrak landed, he snarled and shook the monster that still hung on to life off his blade, stepping forwards to quickly stomp on the struggling creature. Behind, the injured Imp managed to land, precariously, on the edge of the walkway before furling its wings and running to launch itself against Asin.
“No. You are mine!” Roaring, Omrak triggered his skill Champion of the North. All around, Imps that had flown past and were returning, and those already engaged with his friends, turned and charged the Northerner. Crouching low and grinding his feet into the walkway, Omrak readied himself.
Even as the nearest Imp threw itself at him, Omrak had time to focus on his friends. Daniel was dashing past Asin as he chased his own attackers. His slow and heavy tread were not quick enough, but Asin had taken the opportunity to attack the fleeing opponents’ legs, hamstringing, cutting tendons and otherwise crippling the monsters. This gave Daniel time to catch up and begin his own attacks, his crossbow discarded and forgotten on the walkway.
Then, Omrak had no further opportunity to review the actions of his friends as he swung his sword in large, looping patterns. The movement itself was not expected to hit any Imps but to keep them away, to distract and anger while his friends dealt with the strays. Of course, facing nearly eight enemies at this time, Omrak could not guard all attacks, especially those that came from behind.
“Face me, you cowards!” Omrak roared as he felt another cut on his back, just below the hemline of his leather tunic. Omrak snarled as he spun around, a light red glow suffusing his body now. This was his other ability, the Rage of Mountains, that took over. It gave him strength, it gave him speed, and it even gave him a slight defense against attacks.
“Good work, Omrak!” Daniel called as he finished smashing down his last Imp and then rushed forwards, using his Shield Bash to stun another. He quickly laid into it while Asin, hopping on top of an unsuspecting Imp, launched herself into the air to stab another Imp, bearing down on its body. Her eyes widened as the creature, in a desperate attempt to get away, twisted in mid-air, taking her away from the platform by a bare foot.
“Asin!” Omrak shouted in panic. Acting purely on instinct, the Northerner thrust his sword forwards towards where she fell. Twisting, Asin dodged the thrust but grabbed the blade with her paws, her daggers falling beneath her. With a grunt and a motion that nearly caused him to fall, Omrak continued to swing his sword to bring the Catkin back onto the platform.
Rather than leave him alone, the remaining free Imps pounced on Omrak, claws unsheathed as they tore into his lightly armored legs and clambered up to tear at his arms. The red glow suffused his body further, and for the first time, Omrak triggered his new Skill.
“The Lightning’s Call!” Omrak roared, the red around his body dissipating as it was used up in an explosion of lightning. Imps, both those on his body and nearby, were shocked, the attack striking and stunning the infernal creatures. Using the brief moment of respite, Omrak brought his sword down on one shocked Imp, splitting it in half. Asin, on her feet, stabbed another in its kidneys repeatedly as she held it tight to her while Daniel bashed another to the ground with shield and hammer. Within moments, the remaining Imps were killed, leaving the Adventurers breathing hard and bleeding.
“You’re injured again,” Daniel tutted, shaking his head. A moment of concentration allowed Daniel to place the Healer’s Mark on Omrak’s body before the smaller, narrow-eyed Adventurer began to treat Omrak’s wounds more mundanely. Combining mundane, simple healing practices helped his spells be more effective and ensured that even if wounds weren’t fully healed, they would not grow worse.
“New Skill?” Asin asked as she wandered the walkway, searching for Mana stones.
“Yes!” Omrak said with pride. “It was my pick at my last Level up. But it requires rage to use. The greater the amount of rage I have, the greater the effect.”
“Useful,” Daniel acknowledged as he wrapped Omrak’s leg. Omrak meanwhile pressed down on a persistent wound in his upper arm, stemming the bleeding while he waited for the spell to do its work. “Now, let’s talk about what happened. And what we won’t be doing again. Like jumping.”
Both Omrak and Asin ducked their hands in embarrassment, taking the admonishment silently before listening to Daniel’s perspective of the battle. Soon, Omrak knew, it would be his turn to speak.
The grind as Daniel called it took hours. By common agreement, the group had planned to spend the first half of the day exploring and the second half making their way back. During that period, their main focus was to develop their combat skills and coordination against a new type of enemy. The time taken now, to learn and progress slowly, meant less pain and danger. It was a hard lesson to learn, Omrak mused. One that he had refused to learn until he was coupled with Asin and Daniel.
Perhaps it was their lack of strength. Asin was gifted and skilled, fast with her knives and highly perceptive. But she lacked strength to harm the highly armored. The overly large monsters. Whether it was Creller or Ogre, Asin reached her limit in battling such monsters quickly. Daniel on the other was strong – for a Southerner - but he lacked the ability to overpower his opponents or the courage to trade blows directly. Daniel was a rock turtle, one that hunkered beneath its protective shell, taking occasional bites at its enemy. Rock turtles were hard to kill but easy to outrun. It was just that, often, it was better to avoid them than to antagonise the rock turtle.
Still, for all their caution, all the time they spen
t practising fighting together, both on narrow walkways and on firm platforms, their planning had not covered this scenario.
“Are you sure that this was the way we came?” Omrak groused.
“Yes,” Daniel said, staring around the empty platform. Outside of the single walkway they had used to arrive here, there were no others. A short distance away, barely twelve feet, was another platform. But the walkway to it was nowhere in sight. “That’s where we came from.”
“Well, do we backtrack?” Omrak asked, rubbing his chin. They had done so four times already, searching for a new path back. It was only due to luck and some good guessing that they had managed to reach their present position.
“It’s twelve feet…” Daniel said slowly. In yesterday’s test, the armored Adventurer had been able to achieve that distance with a running start. If Daniel removed his armor now, the distance should not be a problem. Except that the platform was not particularly large. A mistake would guarantee them falling.
“Rope,” Asin hissed, already pulling out the piece of equipment from her backpack. A moment later, she had a series of metal anchors in hand, staring pointedly at the hammer in Daniel’s hand.
“Hey, this is a weapon you know. Not a tool,” Daniel protested, clutching his enchanted weapon. Asin’s snort and outstretched hand offered her view on this.
“Come, Hero Daniel. We must all sacrifice,” Omrak said, gently plucking the weapon from Daniel. Together, he and Asin quickly affixed a series of anchor points to the ground and threaded the rope through it. Asin finished tying herself off within seconds and without a word, leapt the distance. She had not even bothered with a running jump, her powerful legs bunching beneath her as she soared through the air.
“This is going to end in tears,” Daniel muttered, but at Omrak’s urging, he got ready. Rather than completely remove his armor, Daniel took off only his helmet, breastplate and shoulder pauldrons to allow him a little more flexibility. After that, he slipped into the leg harness that Omrak had made of the newly retrieved rope, cinching it tight around his waist.
“Do not fear, Hero Daniel; I shall be belaying you,” Omrak said with a grin.
“Right. Don’t fear,” Daniel said. “Not as if I’m throwing myself off a perfectly serviceable location over an unknowable drop.”
“No, you are not,” Omrak said. “You are jumping off a platform.”
Daniel sighed and backed off a few more feet before sprinting forwards. At the last second, he jumped, covering the distance easily. Too easily, as he soared past Asin and landed over three-quarters of the way on the platform, booted feet vainly attempting to take up his momentum. Omrak grinned as he watched Daniel’s antics, both hands already on the rope. With a vicious yank, he pulled back on the rope, jerking Daniel to a halt a few inches from the fall.
“Owww!” Daniel cried as he fell. Clutching bruised hips, Daniel inhaled and exhaled for a few minutes. Behind, Omrak chuckled as he proceeded to unknot the rope and then bunched it together under his arm. Taking a few steps back, Omrak ran and jumped, landing on the platform safely. For a moment, the platform sagged a couple of inches, a motion that made all three Adventurers pale, before it righted itself. While trapped walkways were around, they had not heard of a trapped platform. Then again, Omrak taught cynically, any group that had experienced one probably had not survived.
“Lighter than air,” Asin growled softly.
“The enchantment?” Omrak asked.
“Yes.”
“Aye, that does seem like a reasonable suggestion,” Omrak said, all of them peering over the edge together. Yet, a part of Omrak wondered if there really was a floor. After all, this was a Dungeon. With a shrug of his broad shoulders, Omrak dismissed the matter. Better to die in a Dungeon, serving all, than at home, starving from a bad winter. “Come. We have much to see!”
“Hero Daniel?” Omrak called, frowning as he turned to find the man standing still and a distance behind them, peering down into the mists. Omrak smiled slightly, glad that his party mates did not suffer from vertigo, unlike some others he had noticed.
“There’s something down there,” Daniel said softly.
“Down there?” Omrak frowned and leaned over the edge. All that met his gaze were rolling mists, cloudbanks of soft whiteness that occasionally rolled aside to showcase other, lower, platforms. But all those were a distance away. “The platforms?”
“No. Well, yes. A platform I think. Or something else,” Daniel said with a frown. “It’s right underneath us.”
Asin squatted down, leaning over with one hand on the ground to stare. Omrak peeked too but seeing nothing, decided to keep an eye on the sky. While they were close enough to the entrance that the Imps were unlikely to attack them, you never knew. They might chance upon a recently respawned group.
“Land,” Asin growled after a long silence, one that almost had Omrak bouncing due to boredom.
“So, I’m not seeing things,” Daniel said with relief. He walked forwards to meet with Asin. “Figure about fifty feet?”
“Sixty-four,” Asin said.
“We have about a hundred feet of rope…” Daniel started.
“Why?” Asin asked, frowning. They might be able to get down, but getting back up would be difficult. Climbing up sixty-four feet of rope vertically without any help would be exhausting.
“I thought I saw a chest,” Daniel explained.
Asin visibly brightened at this, leaning over so far that it made Daniel inhale in fear for her. Omrak himself felt the pull of a chest and peered over the side but still saw nothing but mist. Floor chests randomly spawned in a Dungeon, staying available until it was found and then respawning a day later. They always held a large Mana Stone, one that was at least a grade higher than those regularly found in the monsters that roamed the floor. It was believed that Panqua had created these floor chests to attract Adventurers to each floor, to keep them roaming and thus cleansing the monsters.
“We shouldn’t all go down,” Daniel said slowly, rubbing his chin in thought. One issue with floor chests was that they often spawned near the Floor Champion – in this case, an Imp Overseer. The team was probably not ready to combat the Overseer themselves. But, thus far, the group had yet to see it. In a floor like this, close proximity might not mean much.
“I shall go,” Omrak said decisively. Already, he was sheathing his sword and extracting the rope from his inventory. “Asin, anchors?”
“Yes,” Asin said, quickly retrieving Daniel’s axe and pounding the spikes into the floor. His face lined with concern, Daniel readied his crossbow, taking his turn to watch the skies. With practised ease, Omrak had a rope harness rigged for himself and attached to the rope, allowing him to slow his descent. Once he checked the rope and the anchors, Omrak proceeded to slide down the edge, one hand slowly controlling the rate of his descent while the other helped stabilise himself against the rope. It still meant that he swung significantly, winds and movement of his body pitching his body from side to side, but it was less. It reminded Omrak of days on the mountain, climbing with family as they sought to retrieve fallen sheep or hunted Mountain Cats.
“Is he laughing?” Daniel asked Asin incredulously, his words caught in a swirl of wind and carried down to Omrak. A shift in the wind made sure that Omrak did not hear Asin’s reply. But yes, he was laughing. Which proper Hero would not?
Mist engulfed him all too soon, his friends disappearing as he continued to lower himself. His sight blocked, Omrak could only trust in his senses and judgement as he continually descended. In the mist, occasional screeches could be heard, muffled as were the slow groans of moving rock. Out of nowhere, a rock wall appeared, swinging feet away from the Northerner as it travelled to link up with another platform. Mouth dry, Omrak made himself swallow again. To be struck and to die from a stone walkway would not be very glorious. Though unusual, at least.
With a thump, his feet landed on the ground. Quickly, Omrak pulled his sword from his back and spun around, searching. N
othing. No enemies, no creatures. Having been turned around constantly, and without reference to the walkway above, Omrak could only choose to slowly walk in a circle as he searched for the chest. The Northerner left the rope still attached to his body, playing out behind him as he searched.
The plain wooden chest sat in a small depression, light dew covering its exterior. With a frown, Omrak realised that Asin was not here to verify its safety. Yet, his prior experience was still clear in his mind. After a long moment, Omrak extended his sword, placing its edge against the gap and prying the chest open, ready to leap back at any time. When no explosion or cloud of poison appeared, Omrak strode over to retrieve the Mana Stone. It was, unlike those provided by the Imps, of an impressive size. As an experienced Adventurer, Omrak could tell that it was of the same rarity grade as those the Imp contained but at least thrice the size.
“Yes,” Omrak said with a grin. This would go a long way towards repairing their empty funds. With a gesture, he stored it in his inventory before sliding his sword away. This had gone better than he thought.
It was a thought that Omrak regretted moments later when the Imps arrived. Halfway up the rope, his muscles already tired from the torturous climb, the rope constantly swinging as the wind picked up, he had no way to defend himself.
“Careful!” Omrak growled. Daniel, shooting from above, nearly sent a crossbow bolt through Omrak rather than an Imp, his dreadful aim once again making its appearance. Worse, Daniel seemed to be unable to hit the fast-moving Imps at all. Already, Omrak bled from dozens of small cuts, the Imps tearing into his body as they flew past.
“Sorry!” Daniel cried as he placed the crossbow back on the ground in an attempt to reload it.
“Forget shooting. Pull me up!” Omrak cried.
