by Pirateaba
The adventurers and undead collided in a crash of sound that nearly rendered Ceria deaf again. But she was already running with the other mages, firing shards of ice at one of the Crypt Lords as she did.
—-
All was motion. Gerial spun and cleaved the head off of one zombie effortlessly. He felt like his body was on fire. He felt like his heart was on fire. He was fighting at his best, thanks to Olesm’s skill. And not just him. Around him the captains were cutting through the undead now that they didn’t have to worry about hitting allies in front of them.
“[Whirlwind Cleave]!”
Gerald’s axe scythed through the stomachs of three zombies and a ghoul, dropping them to the ground where the big man crushed their heads with an armored boot. He turned and barely dodged a Crypt Lord’s massive hand, but Cervial raised his bow and loosed a bolt right into the monster’s face.
“[Point-Blank Shot]!”
The flesh around the bolt tore and the big monster lurched back. Gerald and two other warriors attacked it from below as it tried to recover and Gerial caught a skeleton that was trying to attack them from behind. He bashed it repeatedly with the pommel of his swords and watched it collapse as he broke a hole in its skull.
Yvlon’s sword tip exited the neck of one zombie as she struck a skeleton in the head with her shield. The blow shattered the undead’s skull and it collapsed, the crimson light fading from its eyes.
She whirled, and her shield came up to block a ghoul’s slash. She pushed the monster away and it staggered. Gerial saw Yvlon pulled her sword out of the dead man’s stomach and the ghoul folded up. He hadn’t even seen her strike.
Gerial turned and found another Crypt Lord about to spit at him and Yvlon. He tackled her to the floor and the black rain covered another adventurer who fell to the ground, screaming.
“Back, back!”
Someone yanked Gerial to his feet. He looked up and saw Sostrom as the mage struck the Crypt Lord in the head with several fiery bolts of magic. It roared and seized him in one huge fist.
“Sostrom!”
The mage screamed in agony as the Crypt Lord squeezed. Gerial stabbed it in the stomach desperately, but it was too big and wouldn’t let his friend go.
“Move!”
He felt something shove him aside and then Calruz was there. The Minotaur raised his battleaxe and Sostrom fell to the ground, the severed hand still holding him.
The Crypt Lord howled and grabbed at Calruz, but the Minotaur dropped his axe and gripped the undead’s head with both of his hands. He roared in fury as he ripped the Crypt Lord’s head off. The black blood spurted from the stump and covered the Minotaurs’ fur as he hurled the head and bit of spine away.
“Gerial! Back me up!”
Gerial nodded and fended off a Ghoul while Calruz reclaimed his axe. The Minotaur’s skin was fizzing where the black blood had landed and he unceremoniously dumped two potions over his fur and then downed an antidote.
Several feet away, Ceria was in trouble. She’d been separated by Sostrom when the monster grabbed him, and a Ghoul was trying to catch her as she doged backwards.
Gerial sliced a huge hole in the ghoul’s side, giving Ceria an opening. She hit the ghoul with three ice spikes, sending it spinning away.
A zombie struck Gerial from behind, hitting him in the back and knocking him to the floor. It fell on Gerial, biting and tearing as he shouted for help.
Ceria didn’t hesitate. She pointed her wand at the zombie’s back.
“[Flashfire]!”
Instantly, the zombie burst into flames. It stopped clawing at Gerial and started writhing, trying to put out the flames. Gerial shoved the corpse off him and got to his feet. The zombie tried to crawl after him but Calruz ran forward and bashed its skull in with a single kick.
“How many Crypt Lords are down?”
“Two—no, three!”
Gerald had just cleaved the head off of the Crypt Lord he’d been fighting. The last monsterous undead hesitated as its minions surrounded it.
“I will take care of it if you get me close.”
“Done!”
Ceria nodded and she and Sostrom ran towards Lir. The mage turned, and then all three began blasting at the undead, sending charred and broken bodies spinning to the ground.
Calruz looked at Gerial as the other man panted for air.
“With me?”
“Of course!”
They charged into the ranks of the undead. Gerial body-rushed a skeleton and planted his sword in a zombie’s chest as Calruz swung his axe and sent body parts flying. The Crypt Lord raised its head and stared at the Minotaur, possibly seeing a threat in the only creature larger than it was.
It raised its clawed hands at the same time Calruz raised his axe. Gerial knew what he was going to do and ran backwards as Calruz roared.
The Minotaur brought down his axe, cutting through the Crypt Lord’s twisted arms as it tried to block. His axe cleaved downwards, not stopping for bone or sinew as he vertically bisected the front part of the Crypt Lord’s body and struck the ground in an impact that smashed the stone floor.
Even from several feet away, Ceria felt the impact in her bones. The Crypt Lord lay on the ground, bones and skin twisted and torn.
The undead faltered, and then began to attack again. But suddenly they were without their controlling intelligence. Calruz roared, and the adventurers formed up around him. They pressed the undead back, back, until they hit a wall and were ground into paste upon it.
In the silence after the battle, Olesm shakily walked around the few twitching corpses and stared at the Crypt Lord Calruz had killed with his [Hammer Blow] skill. He stared at Calruz as the Minotaur leaned on his battleaxe, panting.
“I—I didn’t hear you say anything.”
Calmly, Calruz raised his battleaxe and shook the bits of gore from it.
“Not every skill or spell must be shouted.”
The Drake nodded slowly and looked around. The battle was over. He looked at his own sword. He’d hung back and fought with the mages, but he’d still killed several zombies and skeletons. He felt shaky, sick, exhausted as the adrenaline left him. He looked at Ceria as the half-elf downed another mana potion and wiped at her mouth.
“We’re alive. Now what?”
The half-elf grinned at Olesm, threw up a bit as the mana potion ran through her system, and grinned even harder. Blood and entrails had painted her face, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Now? Now we get the treasure.”
—-
On the second day, Ryoka found the dead Gnolls as she was running through the underbrush. The six warriors had been stripped of all their gear, but she saw where they had been stabbed repeatedly before being left to rot. They were freshly dead, but the insects were already gathering and they stank.
She stared at the corpses a long time, until the crawling acid flies chased her away. There was nothing she could do. She ran on, not knowing she was being watched.
1.02 H
“What about this room?”
“Empty.”
Sostrom shook his head as he walked out of another dark room, his staff glowing. Calruz stomped out behind him, growling irately. Ceria tried not to scowl at her friend, but it was hard.
“Not a thing?”
“You can see for yourself.”
Sostrom pointed into the dark room and shook his head.
“Whatever was in here, it wasn’t a treasury. And now it’s long gone.”
“Damn.”
Ceria cursed and kicked at the ground. Olesm peered over her shoulder into the empty room.
“I don’t get it. This is the lowest level, isn’t it? And you said there would be treasure—”
“I did. But who knew this place would be so cursed big?”
“But the treasure’s around here somewhere, right?”
Ceria growled at Olesm and he backed away, hands raised. Gerial put a hand on her shoulder, but she sensed the tension in it too.
“Most likely. We just haven’t found it yet, and we’re all tired. Why don’t you go with Sostrom and check those rooms out?”
Sostrom made a face, but walked with Olesm down the dark corridor to peer into another room.
Ceria made a face and patted his hand with hers.
“Sorry, Gerial.”
“I know how you’re feeling. But he’s trying to be helpful.”
“I know. It’s just—”
It was later. In fact, it was two hours later. The last of the undead had been killed and their remains incinerated with a spell and those adventurers wounded too badly to move had been sent back to the burial room. A few more had remained as guards in case more undead popped up, but the rest had been searching nonstop since then.
Searching for treasure.
“Any word from Gerald’s team?”
They’d split into two groups, one going down the left passage, the other the right. Of all the teams, Calruz’s hadn’t lost any adventurers besides Horn in either battle, so they’d taken a few of Lir’s mages while the other adventurers under Gerald had gone left. Yvlon had remained with the wounded and they were keeping up a stream of communications with several adventurers who ran messages across the vast ruins.
“We just had one come by. There he is—”
Gerial led Ceria towards a panting adventurer drinking water and talking to Calruz.
“Any word on the other team’s progress?”
The man made a face.
“Nothing substantial. They’ve come across more empty rooms same as you. There’s some kind of urns in one room—just filled with dust, whatever’s in them is long gone. Old scrolls in another, none magical. They found a few undead, but nothing else. How’s it going over here?”
“Uneventful. We killed a few zombies but they’re mostly cleared out here as well. Has Yvlon seen anything?”
“Nothing. I’ll get back to Gerald’s side of things if you’ve nothing else.”
Calruz grunted irritably and the man took off. Gerial shook his head as he watched the man jog slowly off into the darkness, a ball of light following him.
“This is where a Runner would have come in handy.”
“This is where a hundred Runners would come in handy. They could search this place faster than we can.”
Ceria kicked at a wall. She knew she was frustrated, but she was exhausted from fighting and irritable from countless annoying questions from a certain Drake. Calruz had suggested quite sensibly – which was surprising – that instead of splitting up, their team should move together closely to avoid unpleasant surprises. The need to check each room and hallway for traps or ambushes had saved them a few nasty surprises, but meant they were moving at a snail’s pace.
The fire of battle had left all the adventurers tired, it was true, but it was more than even that which made the searching arduous. The ruins had become silent once more, and somehow, without the presence of the undead it made everything feel more ominous.
Ceria kept expecting another zombie to pop out of the shadows, and one or two had—but the feeling hadn’t disappeared. The worst thing about an ambush is that you don’t stop worrying after you survive one. Rather, you keep worrying it was only the first.
Gerial was probably feeling the same, but he still tried to be reasonable.
“You know he’s never done this before. And he helped us get through that fight a lot more easily than we would have otherwise. Just don’t snap at him.”
“I know. I know. But he keeps asking and—what if he’s right?”
“Yeah.”
Gerial, Ceria, and Calruz all fell silent. Treasure. They were all certain—had been certain—it was down here. You didn’t have ruins with this many guardians without treasure of some kind. But what if the valuable goods had been knowledge, or something more intangible?
What if the dead had just congregated here because this was a glorified graveyard, and the only goods were the few bags of gold and jewels they’d recovered from the dead adventurers? It was a good haul for a single team, but wouldn’t even recoup the losses of their expedition.
Ruins could potentially be sources of amazing wealth, like the Ruins of Albez where magical items were still hidden under the rubble. But sometimes ruins were just old.
You heard stories, sometimes, of adventurers who would fight their way down to the lowest part of a dungeon, sacrificing all they had, losing friends and bleeding each step of the way to discover they’d cleared out an ancient storage house for grain, or the living quarters of some subterranean people.That was the nightmare that hid behind the dream, and Ceria and the other adventurers were living it right now.
“We’ve still got a ways to go. There’s plenty of chances the vault is just ahead.”
“Sure.”
Ceria nodded and Calruz grunted. She sighed, and was about to stand up when she heard pounding feet.
All three adventurers grabbed at their weapons and the others down the hall turned, ready for battle. But the woman who ran towards them was beaming and waving her arms.
“We’ve found something! Possibly a treasury!”
The shock that ran through Ceria was electric. She smiled and the other adventurers whooped and cheered.
“Where is it? How big?”
“It’s right at the other end of the ruins, down the other passage.”
The woman pointed back as she explained.
“We’re not sure it’s a treasury, but it has every signs of—they’ve found a huge pair of double doors. Sealed. Magical runes of warding on the fronts and Lir says some of them look like warnings.”
Ceria frowned at the same time Gerial did.
“Wait a second. That’s doesn’t sound like a vault to me. It sounds like a guarded treasury, the kind that has the nastiest monster waiting right behind the door. You didn’t try to open it, right?”
The adventurer rolled her eyes.
“We’re not idiots. Lir and the other mages are already setting up traps near the entrance with Cervial’s team. Yvlon wants a hallway full of traps before we crack the seal.”
She grinned.
“Cervial’s group even has two beartraps. Don’t know how they carried them all the way down, but they’re setting them up. Even if what’s inside is as big as an Ogre, it won’t be able to ignore that.”
Ceria had seen the iron and occasionally steel contraptions used to hunt bears and larger monsters. They were nasty, vicious, and she’d nearly stepped in one more than once. She shuddered, but it was a fine weapon to use.
“As soon as you lot finish on your side we’ll seal off this passage with a spell and open those doors. Yvlon is going to join us and we’ll see exactly what’s inside. Lir says the runes might be warning of the undead guardians, and if so, we just killed them all!”
“Or more could be inside. Wait for us.”
“How soon until you’ll be done here? Gerald wants to know.”
Ceria and Gerial looked at Calruz. He shrugged.
“We’ve found nothing of worth so far. Give us a few minutes to gather everyone and we’ll follow you.”
“Well hurry up. Gerald wants to crack the seal this instant and the other two Captains are the only thing holding him back.”
The woman grinned and dashed back as the other adventurers began to chatter excitedly. Ceria and Gerial exchanged a look.
“Warded doors? That’s right out of one of those classic stories you hear about. Odds are three-to-one it’s trapped or something nasty is lurking inside. Gerald better not open them before we get there.”
“He’s no idiot. But Yvlon has the right idea. Regardless of what’s in there, we can turn the passageway into a killing field. Even ten Crypt Lords wouldn’t survive a fully spelled passage if we combine resources.”
“Hey, hey everyone!”
That voice came from behind the others. They turned to see Olesm running towards them, beaming in excitement.
“Olesm? You’ll never believe
this, but we found something! A vault, sealed by magic over on the other side of the ruins.”
The Drake skidded to a stop and gaped. He grinned.
“Really? That’s great news! But we found something as well!”
“You did?”
Ceria exchanged a glance with the others, but they followed as Olesm eagerly led the way back down the corridor. They stopped at a huge opening in the wall, possibly where doors had once stood. Olesm pointed in.
“Look—but be quiet!”
He pointed and Ceria gasped as she stared into a massive room. It was some kind of crypt. Well, the ruins were a giant crypt. Only this was the crypt inside of the crypt. What that all meant was—
“Tombs.”
“Coffins.”
Hundreds of them. Each one was stone, spaced apart evenly in a room that was so large it made Ceria feel as if she was standing outside again. She could barely see the far wall. The only light in the massive room came from a single staff. Sostrom was just inside, staring at one of the walls.
“This is the place where all the dead go.”
Olesm whispered loudly in Ceria’s ear.
“It must have countless tombs, probably with a lot of important people! And probably treasure if they bury their dead with their valuables like we Drakes do!”
That was true, but Ceria stared at the tombs and had another thought.
“They could all be undead in those graves. There’s no telling how many of them reanimated with the Crypt Lords about.”
The other adventurers crowding behind her groaned and grabbed at their weapons. Gerial shushed them while Olesm whispered.
“That’s what Sostrom said. But he found something else in there as well.”
He pointed, and Ceria saw the mage looking up at something on the wall. She nudged Calruz and he nodded, so Ceria slowly approached with the others.
Sostrom jumped when Ceria put her hand on his shoulder. He whirled, staff raised, and relaxed when he saw her face. He bent down and whispered to her.
“Ceria. You nearly scared the piss out of me.”
