Dungeon Corp- Crypts of Phanos

by Jaxon Reed

Everyone crowded around the spot Erik pointed out. The tiny blob of yellow indeed appeared to be a young boy, walking down one of the long corridors in the city below.

  Percel said, “You’re right, lad. He’s using Rikker’s preserved body. He’s not wandering around in his ectoplasm form.”

  “Let’s go get him!”

  “Hold on, hold on, lad. Tawny, now that we see him, can y’find him again?”

  She opened her eyes and looked at the tiny figure walking down a subterranean street.

  She said, “Yes. I’ve got him marked.”

  Percel did not bother to ask what sort of spell that entailed.

  He nodded and said, “Alright. Let’s make sure we’re fully geared up and in the right mindset. Then we’ll go down there to confront him.”

  -+-

  Not far from the center, the party approached a large trench angling down into the city below. Powerful warden spells guarded this location, sparkling back at them in the morning air.

  Roberton positioned himself in front of the slope, and turned to address the Dungeon Corps team.

  He said, “Ever since the failed attempt by Prince Synthan, the crown has kept an eye on this, the only known entrance to Melody. In years past, we stationed guards here. However, nothing has ever come out of the dungeon, including those who ventured in. The exception, of course, are the few Children Soldiers who survived the Prince’s expedition.”

  He looked at Percel, who nodded back in acknowledgment.

  Roberton continued. “Over the years, with nothing coming in or out, Queen Elliah’s mother, Her Majesty Queen Ellen, may she rest in peace, ordered a warden spell be cast over the entrance that would alert her court mages of ingress or egress. When Queen Elliah assumed the throne and I entered into her service, that spell passed to me. In all the time in which the warden spell has been active, it has never been tripped.”

  Justen said, “The reputation of Melody as a death pit has kept out even the most adventurous of grave robbers, I would imagine.”

  “Indeed,” Roberton said. “There are far easier pickings elsewhere.”

  He turned and faced the ramp. He stretched his arms out and concentrated for a moment. Those without magical ability could see nothing. Justen and Tawny noticed a slight shift in the atmosphere above the trench. The sparkles winked out.

  Roberton turned to face the group once more.

  He said, “I have deactivated the spell. Before you enter, Her Majesty instructed me to offer you something for your quest. She owns four Rings of Protection, and has decided to loan them to you. She understands they will not help when facing Ludge, but they might assist in other threats you face down there while trying to find the monster.”

  “That is extremely generous of her,” Percel said.

  He turned to his team and said with a grin, “Rings like that won’t make us invulnerable, but ordinary monsters will have a much harder time hurting us while we wear them. You’ll get fewer of these.” He pointed to the scars on his face.

  “I regret that she cannot allow you to keep the rings,” Roberton said. “In fact, I have an additional set of instructions concerning them.”

  “Ah, the strings attached,” Justen said with a knowing smile.

  “Should you come back alive, the queen will expect the rings to be returned promptly to the armory. In the event of death, she expects survivors to bring all the rings back. In the event everyone dies, she retains ownership and should the rings be recovered, they are to be returned to the Royal Armory as quickly as possible. Dungeon Corps quartermasters in every city will also be informed of this royal proclamation. The rings are not be redistributed, nor sold.”

  Everyone accepted the queen’s decision. Percel seemed particularly happy with the arrangement, even if they could not keep them.

  He said, “I never thought I’d ever get to wear such a high-level artifact!”

  He practically danced in expectation as Roberton handed him the rings. They felt heavy, and glowed with a soft blue aura.

  Roberton said, “I’m afraid there are only four, that is all she had in her inventory. I will leave it up to you to decide who gets to wear them.”

  Percel, Erik, Tawny, Nessa and Toby looked at each other.

  Tawny said, “I think Toby will be okay without one.”

  Nessa frowned. She said, “No! Toby deserves to be protected just as much as the rest of us! He can wear mine.”

  Percel said, “Nessa, lass . . . Rings of Protection are like an added layer of armor. They help prevent injury, though you can still die wearing one. But Toby is the least likely to get hurt due to his size. And if he is hurt, you can heal him. We’ll keep you in the back as always, and you wear a ring to stay safe. That way, you can keep healing us. But hopefully not as often, since we’ll all have a ring and you can focus more on him.”

  That argument won the day, and she accepted a ring from Percel. Then he gave one to Tawny and one to Erik.

  When they slipped them on, the rings sized down to fit their fingers perfectly. The blue aura extended around their entire bodies.

  “That’s amazing,” Erik said, poking himself in the stomach. “I can feel the added protection. How much do these things go for, in the marketplace?”

  “They don’t,” Justen said with a skullish grin. “No one who has one, and the queen is the only one I know who has them, ever sells anything like this. So, you could say they’re priceless.”

  “One might find similar items for sale at the Decade Market,” Roberton suggested, quietly.

  “Ah, true. I’ve never been, myself,” Justen said.

  “What’s the Decade Market?” Nessa said.

  Roberton said, “It’s a special event that happens once every ten years. Merchants from all the nearby kingdoms, including the elves, show up to trade extremely rare and exotic goods.”

  “The prices are extreme, too,” Justen added. “Unless you have access to a royal treasury, it’s usually pointless to go. You’ll leave highly disappointed. I’ve known people who deeply regretted seeing things there that they could never hope to buy. That’s one of the reason I’ve never attended one.”

  Roberton said no more, but by the look on his face it seemed obvious that he had been to at least one, and perhaps bought some things for the queen, too. Silence evidently proved preferential over braggadocio, though, as the elder mage quickly sought to change the subject.

  “Moving along,” Roberton said, “The queen has also instructed me to give you each portal stones that will return you to the palace in Menos.”

  He handed five stones to Percel, who distributed them to the group.

  Percel looked up at Toby, who glanced down at him with a finger in his mouth, and handed two of the stones to Tawny.

  “Take care of his, lass,” he said. “And for the Creator’s love, don’t lose them. These will get us out without having to fight our way back to this spot.”

  “Speaking of which,” Justen said, “I have volunteered to remain up here at the entrance with a group of guards in case I’m needed.”

  Roberton nodded and said, “Justen will provide you with assistance in returning to Menos in case you lose the portal stones. You have a spell on the group?”

  Justen nodded.

  Roberton paused and cleared his throat. Then he said in a bit more awkward tone, “Justen will also attempt to retrieve any royal artifacts should your mission fail.”

  Percel said, “That would be a dangerous quest, lad. Especially attempting to come down into the dungeon alone.”

  Justen shrugged. He said, “Hopefully it won’t come to that.”

  Percel slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Aye. Hopefully.”

  He turned to his team and said, “Alright, people. Make sure you have all your gear. Toby, lad, you get to carry the chow.”

  Toby smiled as one of the soldiers handed him a magical rucksack filled with several days’ worth of food.

  The others checked their equipment. Tawny made
sure her magical daggers were in place, enchanted with Blades of Fury.

  Nessa adjusted the Starhelm Bow strapped around her back, and felt to make sure her magical quiver was also in place and easy to reach. Finally, she ensured her mithril knife remained easy to grasp.

  Erik patted the hilt of his Nikos sword and his own mithril knife. He wore Wall Walker boots, as did Percel and Toby. He opened his magical bag and made sure his enchanted lock picks were still there.

  Percel checked on his engineered spectacles, his own weapons, and at last he held out his hand to glance admiringly at the Ring of Protection making him glow blue.

  “If only we had these in the corps. It would make life so much easier.”

  Justen smiled, his skullish face creasing with the grin.

  He said, “An oi epithymíes ítan áloga tha zísoun oi zitiánoi.”

  “What was that?” Erik said. “What’s it mean?”

  Percel grimaced, then smiled. He said, “It’s an ancient proverb, in the Old Tongue. It means, ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.’”

  “Oh. Ouch.”

  Erik gave Justen a reproving look.

  The mage shrugged and said, “Sorry. It seemed appropriate.”

  At last everyone was ready, or at least as ready as they would ever be.

  The chasm leading down yawned before them, quickly growing darker as the way descended.

  The five corps members stood at the lip, staring down the incline. Behind them, Justen, Roberton, and the Queen’s Guards watched silently.

  Percel said, “Tawny, lass, cast some light down there.”

  Tawny nodded and threw out her hand. A Globe of Light sailed into the shaft, illuminating a dirt floor and walls.

  The five headed down into Melody, following the light.

  -+-

  Deep within the heart of the giant tree, Sthenos sat on a throne carved into living wood.

  He brooded silently. His chin rested on his fist, pressing against his beard. An elbow rested on one knee. His eyes were fixed on the wooden floor of the room.

  The king’s counselor, Mnester, his black hair pulled back and tied off with a simple leather string, stood quietly in front of the throne. He held his forearms with his hands, and gazed up at his king, waiting for Sthenos to speak.

  At last, the king looked at him.

  He said, “You are sure?”

  Mnester nodded and said, “Yes, Sire. I am quite sure. Dracaena is dead. She never reported in, and I began to make inquiries. I am told she died in an assault on the targets after they sought refuge in the Crypts of Phanos with their Dungeon Corps team.”

  Sthenos’s eyes squinted at that statement.

  He said, “How? How could mere humans defeat the world’s greatest assassin?”

  Mnester bowed his head. He did not dispute his king’s statement, although personally he felt Dracaena had not been the world’s best. One of the best, certainly, but the best? Obviously not, since she had gotten herself killed on this simple quest.

  “From what I understand, Sire, a special spell was used by a mage accompanying their team. Lights of Phanos casts the illumination of every torch that ever shined in that city, all in one place. It’s one of the ancient municipal protection spells humans are so fond of, and it obliterated Dracaena.”

  Sthenos sighed and sat back on the throne.

  “I suppose that makes sense,” he said in a resigned tone. “She was a creature of darkness, after all, having devoted her life to Shadow Magic. Shine that much light at her, and she couldn’t take it.”

  “Precisely my thoughts, Sire.”

  “Very well, they were lucky. We shall try again. Who is the next best assassin? Perhaps we should send in several groups at once, with a prize for whoever gets them first.”

  His eyes lit up with that idea.

  “There is an additional complication, Sire. Elliah has granted Tawny and her brother royal protection. Any further efforts will be considered an act of war by her court.”

  The king’s face flushed in anger.

  “What? She would dare offer them shelter? Does she have any idea what . . . what an abomination that child is?”

  “I suspect by now she is quite aware of who the children are, and the perceived threat they pose to your throne. Therefore she has taken these steps as a political ploy. A power play, as it were.”

  Sthenos drummed the armrest of his throne with his fingers, thinking.

  He said, “What if we sent an extremely quiet and careful assassin, who arranged for them to die ‘by accident?’”

  Mnester shook his head. “Sire, any efforts to eliminate the children will be considered an act of war. Their untimely deaths would be investigated extensively, by magical means if necessary. We are unable to prevent Elliah from noticing, even with planning and forethought, should the two turn up dead. There will be far too much attention paid to them from this point forward.”

  Sthenos sighed in frustration. He looked at his councilor in irritation. Mnester no doubt had a solution for this situation, but waited to be asked by his king.

  “What do you propose we do, then?”

  Mnester allowed himself a small smile. He said, “I propose we wait them out, Sire. In 30 years, perhaps less, Elliah will surely die by natural causes or accident. Human lives are so short. She will be replaced by her daughter who will likely care far less for those her mother protected. At that time we can safely move against the children again. With the monarch’s death, her edicts die with her. And 30 years is a mere trifle, for us.”

  Sthenos brooded over these statements. Mnester could almost read the king’s thoughts by his body language. He did not like the idea of letting his brother’s bastard son live any longer than necessary.

  But, Mnester knew Sthenos did not wish to engage in war with the humans. Such efforts would be disastrous for the kingdom. Humans were much more willing to die, especially for causes they deemed noble and just. And, even though elves were superior to humans in every way . . . there were many more humans in the world than elves.

  Sthenos said, “Very well. I will hold elimination efforts against the abomination and his sister until after the death of Queen Elliah.”

  “It would probably behoove us, Sire, not to bring about her death prematurely, either.”

  “Of course not, Mnester. I’m no fool. Any premature death of their monarch will result in a magical investigation by her daughter, and if we are found liable it would mean war. No, we will wait for her natural death, then make our move.

  “But Mnester . . . I want those two watched. I want to know what they are up to at all times, whether by scrying or spying.”

  Mnester nodded. He said, “Yes, Sire. Of course.”

  He backed out of the throne room bowing, making sure his front remained facing the king. On the other side of the door, he turned and headed down a narrow passageway toward his own nook carved into the tree.

  On the way he thought about Tawny and Toby, those two elusive figures wandering loose in the Queen’s Land.

  Where are they now? he thought. What might they be doing at this very moment?

  He shrugged and considered the best way to try and cast a scrying spell without detection.

  Chapter 13

  The cook yawned and carried a bag full of eating utensils to the supply wagon. With fewer people, all the forks and spoons were simply not needed anymore. He looked and found a place for the bag, setting it down in the wagon.

  Walking back to the main campsite, he passed by Lady Lexa’s magical carriage. The sound of stone scraping on stone stopped him in his tracks.

  Cautiously he peered inside to look. There a stone sarcophagus sat, its heavy lid slowly sliding over to one side.

  Choster sat up and yawned. The cook’s eyes grew wide.

  The vampire smacked his lips and noticed the cook staring at him.

  He said, “What’d I miss?”

  “Th-th-they went into th-th-the dungeon.”

  �
��Already?”

  Choster hopped out of the sarcophagus and made his way toward the rear of the wagon.

  The cook, already scared stiff, yelped and ran away before he made it out.

  Choster jumped down to the ground, stretched and looked around in the twilight. He could see clearly even with the sun down and shadows lengthening across the landscape.

  “I suppose I should go find them,” he said.

  Poof!

  He turned into a bat and flew off in the evening, searching for the team.

  -+-

  “Hold on, hold on. Let’s rest a moment.”

  Percel leaned up against the old leeward side of a building along a subterranean thoroughfare and tried to catch his breath.

  They stood in what used to be something of a yard, slightly off the street. The grass had long since crumbled into dust. A decrepit fence used to surround this spot, but had fallen into disrepair.

  Everyone panted. The air they gulped in did not smell good at all. It felt dank, musty, and stale in their lungs. It felt like air that had not circulated in years.

  The street looked grimy, what they could see of it from the ball of light Tawny kept floating above them. Dirt and fetid chunks of decayed organic matter were strewn about in all directions.

  A ceiling soared high above, a solid dome of dirt forming the top of a giant subterranean bubble for the city. No light, no wind, no weather of any kind ever reached down here in this land of perpetual gloom.

  So far, by Percel’s rough estimate, they had fought their way through well over 100 zombies. Maybe even 150. There were so many, he had probably missed several.

  Plus, they had dispatched a handful of ghouls and at least a dozen skeletons.

  Mercifully, the undead creatures were all unarmed, save the ghouls who had crude weapons. And, they were all woefully inadequate fighters. But their sheer numbers were exhausting, even with the Rings of Protection helping prevent serious damage.

  Percel figured they had traveled a mere six city blocks in as many hours. This was the first moment they had to rest from an almost nonstop onslaught of the undead.