by Dakota Krout
“Son of a shit.”
Hans glanced at Dale, “You okay there?” Dale just nodded.
“You know what, Cal? I’m not even mad. That is actually really useful information.” Dale thought at me, laughing as I squirmed. I preferred making him needlessly mad. He walked over to the archway, and it suddenly blazed with light. He looked through it and saw the startled faces of a few miners glancing his way. Dale waved and stepped back, explaining to his team what the item was.
Hans was nearly dancing, “The portal Guild is going to be having kittens over this! They’ve had a monopoly on human portal travel for a century! Listen to how quiet this portal is, too! And so stable!” I felt like blushing from all the praise. “The Runes on here, they look like they shouldn't work together at all — like they should just blow up and kill us all — but it is actually working! Miracle?”
~Dale~
The group pressed on, eventually returning to the third floor. They each had two gems on their chains, signifying that they were able to move directly to the second floor. Now they were discussing their options, should they press on to the Boss directly and get the floor keygem? Or, should they mine for a while first? They decided that the best option for them at this time was to attack, getting the third floor keygem.
They followed the curving room, bypassing the honeycomb-like fortifications and the glaring archers therein, dodging arrows when they got a bit too close. The grand door of the Boss’s area loomed in the distance. It was illuminated by the light pouring down through the huge pane of emerald set in the ceiling, creating a sinister environment. Adam shivered as he looked upon the gate, and the others had mixed feelings. Tom glared at the area, he only knew it from stories, but this is where he had lost his arm.
“You’re sure that the reason the Goblin Boss was so powerful is because I was going all out?” Hans glanced at Dale, waiting for confirmation.
“Ninety-five percent.” Dale responded agreeably.
“Does that mean ‘yes’?” Hans raised his eyebrow.
Dale had forgotten that Dwarven mathematics was not common knowledge. “Err. Yeah, it means I am almost positive.”
Tom nodded gravely. “It is good to be a positive person.” The group went silent, Tom staring ahead and rubbing his chin. “How do we get in?”
Rose shrugged. “Go through the wall again?”
“No, we may not always have Evan with us, we should practice other tactics.” Dale looked for structural weaknesses or obvious flaws. Unsurprisingly, it was Hans, the ex-assassin, who came up with the plan.
“If we were to go to that portion of the wall where it connects near the natural curve of the cave, we could press our back to the cave and ‘walk’ up the wall.” Hans announced thoughtfully.
“How would that even work?” Adam’s eyes were filled with disbelief.
Hans walked over to the wall, casually dodging an arrow that sailed his way. Rose sniped the attacking Goblin while Hans demonstrated the technique. “Put your back like this… and push with your legs.” He started walking up the wall horizontally, much to the amazement of the others.
Adam watched, trying to memorize the movements. “I would never have dreamed that this was possible.”
“Neither do most guards. Or the Nobles they are supposed to be guarding.” Hans mentioned, halfway up the wall. He dropped back down to the ground, landing softly.
“I am certain that is harder than you made it look.” Tom commented. Evan nodded along with the statement.
“You want to try something difficult? Do this.” Hans jumped from a standstill, pushing off the wall, then the cave, over and over till he was standing on the wall. “It’s only about eight feet tall, so I guess it isn’t too hard.”
“You are ridiculous.” Rose chuckled, reaching into her bag. “I thought ahead! I bought this rope and grapple yesterday.”
Hans made a face at her. “Boo! Cheater!”
“Doing something in an intelligent manner is not ‘cheating’.” Rose blandly replied to Hans, swinging the rope and connecting it on the first throw. Again, the wall was only eight feet tall, it wasn’t too hard to launch it up to the top. They climbed the wall one at a time. Rose remained on the lookout for more archers, and so went last.
Standing on top of the wall looking down, they could see the Goblins moving into defensive formations. The Goblin Boss… Queen? Amazon? Amazon. Was standing up, and lifting twin Warhammers to taunt the group in.
“Let’s stay up here.” Evan chuckled nervously.
Dale paused from his downward descent, “You know, why not? It’s not like we need to have a knock-down, life-or-death battle every time, right? Rose, can you turn them into pincushions? Hans, what's the range for your throwing daggers?”
The whole group was a tiny bit thrown off, but Dale made perfect sense. Rose shrugged and started sniping the Goblins, who were yelling obscenities and scrambling to avoid arrows. A knife thunked into the Goblin Boss’s neck, severing the arteries. She roared, stumbling around for a minute before slumping to the ground. The group descended, killing the Goblins that had managed to survive the brief scuffle.
“This just seems… wrong somehow.” Tom rumbled as he rammed a Goblin with his shield, finishing it with a hammer blow from his ingot hammer.
Dale patted him on the back. “I think that we have gotten so used to constantly fighting that we forgot our main goals. We are here to cultivate and gain money or items. We aren’t actually here to fight, that is just usually, you know, how it goes.”
They looked around for items, scavenging the weapons that hadn’t vanished before they got to them. They found the treasure chest under a partially collapsed section of wall, pulling out coins, a few Inscribed items, and a keygem each for the floor.
“Looks like we got what we came for, ready to test the portal system?” Dale looked around with a goofy grin.
“Are we sure we won’t just explode when we go in it?” Adam questioned, making the grin drop from Dale’s face.
“No… “
Evan stood forward, “I’ll test it, you’d be coming here for my benefit anyway, else you’d just fight floor-by-floor as usual.” Before anyone could nay-say him, he stepped forward holding the topaz keygem. He entered the portal and exited onto the first floor, much to Dale’s relief and a series of miner’s amazement. The entire group tumbled through the portal, blinking owlishly in the sudden bright light.
“I’m gonna send a runner to explain this to the Guild, then we go back in?” Dale looked around to several nods of acknowledgement.
Rose coughed, “I’m going to run to the latrine…” This spurred a series of other minor things they wanted to do before re-delving, so it took about half an hour before they all reconvened.
“You know,” Dale thought aloud, stepping through the portal, “this isn’t making me sick. Going through the big portal outside always makes me nauseous.”
“Could be anything.” Hans leaned against the wall. “A difference of perspective moving through, like going from facing south to east suddenly. Could be a fluctuation in gravity, going from a low to high pressure zone. Or, it could simply be that the portals aren’t all that great out there. They found a design that worked and never tried to improve on it, maybe.”
They moved into a honeycomb fort and killed the guards, ending the fight with only minimal injuries. Feeling quite pl
eased with themselves, they settled down and ate a picnic lunch that Adam pulled out of his bag while Evan began mining. They cultivated for hours, staying in the dungeon far longer than they normally did. A few groups had found them, to their great surprise. They would run in yelling war cries, only to be stopped by a lazy wave and a ‘hey there’ from Hans.
They finally left, exiting the portal at the entrance to the floor, not bothering with the Boss a second time. They were cheerfully selling their wares and ore to Tyler when a courier ran into the tent at breakneck speed. “Mr. Tyler, the council… um. Your Grace, we have been looking for you as well.” Dale nodded motioning for the lad to continue. “The council is having an emergency meeting, they need you both as soon as possible.”
“The church?” Dale asked, moving to the door.
A head shake, “The Guild tent, sir.”
“Let’s go everyone, I’m sure you’ll want to hear about whatever this is, and I hate re-telling stories.” Dale motioned them all to follow, they took off at a jog. Entering the Guild tent, they could hear concerned muttering coming from the war room. Dale threw open the flap, marching inside. “What’s happening?” He looked around, noting an absence. “Has Father Richard been informed of this meeting?”
Frank responded grimly. “He is the reason for the meeting. His quick reactions saved us, but he may well pay with his life.”
“…Explain.”
“There was a person brought in, the one who collapsed. He had been injured by whatever was coming this way. That man… he had some kind of disease. Soon after treatment, he collapsed into a death-like state. Growths appeared on his body, and then... he woke up. He went mad, attacking anyone nearby. It was horrible.”
“A disease? That’s what we are here for?” Amber interrupted, scoffing, “At the earliest stages of the B-ranks, we are immune to disease.”
“Not. This. One.” Frank ground out. “Listen, when that man woke up, he was not right in the mind. He flew into a mad rage, attacking anyone who came near. He used any weapon he could get his hands on, but was not shy about using tooth and nail. Father Richard captured him, obviously suffering no physical injury. This did not go… well.” Frank swallowed, voice hoarse. “When he no longer had a chance to escape, he… the sick man… he ruptured his Center.”
“Oh god.” Chandra’s hands went to her throat.
“Father Richard placed the building under Celestial quarantine instantly. You see, he survived the after-effect, but the man seemed to release some kind of dust, or possibly seeds of some kind. They settled on every surface, and many of the people still trapped in there are showing symptoms that the man came in with.”
“Could it be necromancers?” Brianna interjected. “Who has the means to do this?”
“Wait, please back up. What do you mean that a man ruptured his Center?” Dale commanded the group's attention.
“It is a forbidden suicide attack. That is, it is forbidden to teach, but obviously it is hard to punish those who use it.” Hans growled grimly, the council showing surprise at his knowledge of secret lore. “The person using it shatters their Chi spiral, and all the Essence contained in their body leaves in a single instant. It is an attack powered not only by the refined Essence, but also by any corruption they have in them. Fire cultivator? Crack the Center and you have a fireball powerful enough to melt Mithril. If a Mage were to use the technique, it would have an effect similar to a volcano erupting.”
“Correct.” Frank agreed, continuing his assessment. “We do not think this is related to the rumors of necromancers. The Spotters have their own theories.”
A squirrely man stood up, “Thank you for the introduction. Father Richard brought an infected person close to his barrier so we could do our job. The growths forming on this man have been seen before, but at that time they were a mere curiosity. We saw no reason for it to remain here, as the person the growths were found on was dead when she was brought to us. We… we sent the corpse via portal to… to Spotterton.” He finished brokenly, stifling a sob.
He took a moment to regain his composure. “The symptoms described are the same as what was reported, and the growths are becoming more prominent and recognizable. There is no mistake, they are a variant of the mushrooms from the dungeon. Specifically, the Glade monster.
“No.” Dale whispered in horror.
The Spotter nodded grimly, “It is the only explanation. We have been hearing reports of entire towns being killed off. Anyone dead was left where they landed, rotting away. We now think that anyone who survived was infected, and joined the hoard. It’s madness. The victims are not rational, all they want to do is either kill or infect others.”
“That can’t be all! They have to have some goal, some destination!” Amber smacked her palm on the table, cracking it down the center.
The Spotter hesitated. “They have been following the river. The river exits from here, and lower down the mountain connects to another river that — we think — is coming out of the dungeon. It could be that they are attempting to re-enter the dungeon.”
“Could we just… let them?” Brianna silenced the room with her question.
Tyler spoke up for one of the first times ever at a council meeting. “I don’t think that would be wise. We’d need to let them into the town, the dungeon is almost at the center. If there were anyone around, I’m sure they would be attacked. Are we sure that that is what they are after? If not, this place becomes inhabited by contagious creatures. If re-entering is their goal, what happens when the dungeon begins to create a copy of these things? I’ve heard stories of the Distortion Cat that broke in. Yes it was defeated, but within days there were Cat variant Mobs in the dungeon.”
“Good God.” Frank whispered. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“It’s already from the dungeon, isn’t it?” Brianna scoffed. “It knows how to make the disease!”
The Spotter gave a half-hearted nod. “Yes, but… this version is mature, fully developed. It would - potentially - be a disaster if the dungeon began to replicate this.”
“What do we do?” Tyler broke the silence that followed the Spotter’s words.
“There may not be a problem coming our way, so we need to send messages to the Kingdom and the nearest towns. If they do come for us… we need to eradicate them.” Dale grimly announced. “Close everything, all businesses and leisure activities. We need to gather everyone and make an announcement.”
An hour later, Dale walked to a platform with the other members of the council. There was an agitated, muttering crowd that grew slowly larger as people exited the dungeon or filed in from other activities. Dale walked to the hastily erected podium and began to speak.
“Hello everyone.” As he spoke, the roughly three thousand people in the area quieted down to listen. There were only about seven hundred people that fought in the dungeon, the rest were traders, merchants, cooks, waiters, or any other number of support staff. “We have a serious problem.”
“You’re droppin’ the tax? About time!” Someone called out, making a low rumble of laughter roll through the crowd.
“No.” Dale’s frank answer and serious tone stopped the chuckles. “It is possible that we are going to be coming under attack within a few days.” A rumble of a different sort sounded. “There are — what we are estimating to be — a few thousand infected people on their way here. Violent, vicious, extremely dangerous, and contagious people.”
“What do they have? Plague?”
Dale answered this question, since it was heard over all the others. “They have a disease of a mystical nature. It originated here, from this dungeon.” He paused, gathering air in his lungs to continue his proclamation.
“We are calling it ‘Dungeon Madness’ until a better term is found.”
“No!” Minya stepped forward, shaking her head. “Dungeon Madness is a different, much more dangerous problem. We don’t want to confuse people.”
“Whatever, Minya! We’ll call it ‘Mad Dung
eon Disease’ then!” Dale decided to get this over with. “Currently, there is no known cure. Unfortunately… it seems to be effective against everyone, even Mages.” This — more than anything else he had said — caused the icy touch of fear to affect the listeners. At the Mage rank there was no more sickness, no more injuries from age or other human ailments.
“Then let’s get the abyss out of here!” This comment was generally accepted to be a good idea.
Dale shouted over the noise, quieting them with his words. “I won’t stop you from leaving right now. I will say this though. If you are here now, and you make your living fighting in the dungeon… if you leave us… if you leave the people who are going to be relying on you… I will not let you come back. You can make your living elsewhere. Someplace more safe.”
A roar of outrage sounded from nearly every voice. It took several minutes before order was restored. Dale continued, trying to explain himself. “If you are not a fighter, it is understandable that you leave and actually encouraged. Those of you who fight for a living, let me ask you this. Where will you go? This dungeon will make you rich and powerful if it is not converted into a disease spewing disaster center! If you are not willing to fight for others, fight for your own future! Fight for your greed, your self-serving desires!”
“What do we get out of it?”
Dale’s shoulders slumped. “A place to live, money, and power that is there for the taking? That isn’t enough?”
“No!”
“...What about half taxes for six months?” There was a pause as people took in his words, and faces lit up. A few people nodded, some clapped. Then a voice rang out!
“…Death to the infected!” Was the roar of bloodlust and greed following Dale's offer.
“For Mountaindale!”
~Twenty-Three~
The mostly-tented city was emptying out, hundreds of people leaving per hour. To their credit, most of the fighters remained, as did the Guild cook. The cook was having a grand ol’ time, his favorite phrase being, “I knew you’d all come crawling back! Them pansy waiters won’t stick around to feed ya, but ol’ cook-ie will always be there for you!”
