The Quizard Mountains: A Dungeon Core Epic (Station Cores Book 2)

by Jonathan Brooks

  Antone didn’t have any idea, but he couldn’t let the rest of his party know that – especially Gwyndle. He knew from experience that the gorgeous brunette really liked guys with a strong sense of confidence, so he had worked on shoring up his own lack of self-confidence to get closer to her.

  It hadn’t worked.

  Yet.

  But he wasn’t about to shoot down any chances he had with her in the future by showing his lack of foresight and planning on their current endeavor. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, which he sensed the Nature Manipulator appreciated with his take-charge attitude. Ever since she had joined the party a few weeks ago after some incident she didn’t want to talk about in her hometown, he knew that he wanted – no – needed her. Now he just had to ensure he didn’t fuck up.

  “It doesn’t matter where we are – we’re on the right path. See these crushed leaves and this heel mark? And that scrap of cloth on that looks awfully like a piece of Mirve’s robe? This here looks suspiciously like a spot of blood – perhaps this will be easier than I thought. I’m confident we’ll find them soon and these tracks don’t look like more than a couple of days old. Unless they departed in a different direction, they haven’t come back this way. I’m sure we’ll find them – and when we do we’ll take whatever they found out here,” he said with as much assurance in his voice as he could in answer to Queel’s question.

  The perpetually-skinny Healer shot back with venom, “That’s what you said an hour ago and it doesn’t look like we’re any closer. We should have stayed back in Breighton where I was making a good profit off my Health Potions instead of traipsing around this forest all day.”

  He has a point, but that wouldn’t have lasted much longer. Queel had the rare ability to both make Health Potions and heal others with just his power; normally, this would have made him one of the most sought-after and rich individuals on Proctus. He could have been living the life of luxury if it wasn’t for one small thing – the effects of his ability only lasted for 72 hours.

  He had taken to conning others into paying top-prices for his powerful potions – which to be fair – worked extraordinarily well for the first three days. In fact, just one of his small potions was the equivalent of five other mundane potions made by other Healers. Unfortunately, after time expired, every wound that was healed by it started to manifest itself again. It didn’t happen all at once, but after another 24 hours everything was back to way it was before the potion was ingested.

  The same went with his direct healing power. It was invaluable in battle – he was able to use just his power to heal someone of even fatal wounds without having to use his flesh to do it. And it happened quickly – sometimes only seconds – unlike some Healers who took minutes or even hours to heal others. However, the side-effect was literally a “killer”; unless they got healing from another Healer – before the wounds fully came back – then it could kill them. For minor wounds it wasn’t so bad, but if you, say, got your throat cut and was miraculously healed by Queel, it would be a priority to find another Healer as soon as possible.

  No one knew exactly why this happened, but some surmised it was because he wasn’t using any of his flesh to heal. It was like putting a temporary bandage on a wound made entirely of power and as soon as it faded away the wound came back. Antone had heard that his current party member had at first tried to keep healing someone after time had expired –but ultimately gave up when his patient died. Apparently, his ability couldn’t touch the wounds after the initial healing. He was rejected by the community after this happened and traveled around as an outcast that grifted off unsuspecting and desperate people from town to town.

  “You were going to have to move on soon, anyways – you know that. We’ve only been traveling together about a year, but I’ve seen how these villages can turn on you once they find out you’ve been hustling them.”

  “Hmph,” was all the response he got.

  “He does have point though. We have no idea how far they went before they stopped – unless you know something you’re not telling us?” accused a voice from the back.

  He bristled at the accusation and thoughts of punching their Elemental Caster’s face ran through his head before quickly being dismissed. While he wasn’t averse to punching a girl – he had done it plenty of times in the past – they needed her ability to combat Mirve…wherever he was. She had a strong fire affinity and it matched her personality; added to that, she wasn’t afraid to put the hurt on anyone looking at her sideways. Which is what led her to this life in the first place.

  He didn’t know a lot of Klareece’s past – but, from what he had heard – she had burned some random guy on the street who had touched her innocently as he brushed past her. Fortunately, he recovered from the immolation by the quick thinking of some nearby Healers, but after that she was on the run from the Kingdom’s enforcers and the Guardian Guild. Using your abilities to harm another citizen was punished harshly by fines all the way up to death, depending on the severity of it. Based on her attempted murder, she wouldn’t have lived another day if she was caught. She had joined up with the duo a couple of months ago with the thought that with their numbers it would be easier to get around without worrying about looking over her shoulder every time she fell asleep.

  “I know just as much as you do – as you all do. We all heard Glert talking with his party in the common room about this being a big deal. They didn’t say what it was they were doing, but we all know he and his companions work for Cordpower, so it probably has something to do with Power Potions. And where there are Power Potions, there is money to be made. Now, shut up and let me track this motherfucker,” he responded with some heat.

  He was tired of them second-guessing him. He didn’t always show his self-confidence, but when he got angry he showed them a different side than what they were used to. Very rarely, he couldn’t even remember what he said or did when he got really pissed-off – but it usually turned out bad. Which is why he was here with these lawless miscreants instead of being part of the Guardian Guild. Ever since he was young he had imagined joining the Guild and fighting back against tides of monsters. When he received his ability, he knew that his dream was becoming a reality. If it wasn’t for that bitch back in—.

  His thoughts were interrupted as he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. He admonished himself for not paying closer attention to his surroundings while he was following the tracks left by Glert and his Cordpower compatriots as well as the faint tracks of some massive beast. He wished that they had gotten their shit together faster when they made the decision to follow the group, that way the trail would have been fresher and easier to follow. Fortunately, with small amounts of his available power he was able to improve his eyesight enough to pick out what others usually missed. It wasn’t as impressive as the strength he was able to yield, but every little bit helped.

  Whatever he had seen was gone when he looked around even with his enhanced eyesight. He figured that even if it was some sort of creature, their team was strong enough to defeat anything that might attack them. Besides, they were in the middle of the forest – which made Gwyndle more than a match for anything even by herself.

  A hand touched his bare arm which caused him to jump momentarily before he realized it was the one he was just thinking about. A blush crept up his face as the sexy and seductive voice of the Manipulator – coupled with the physical contact – seemed to rush right to his pants without resistance.

  “Antone, you can do this. I believe in you.”

  Just hearing her voice was like an aphrodisiac, but it was more than that. She smelled…intoxicating. He had never noticed it before, but now that she was close enough the smell of her filled his senses with an overwhelming desire. A cloudiness enveloped his mind for a moment before his focus sharpened on the task at hand. No longer did he worry about his own self-confidence – instead, he was purely intent on finding whatever riches those Cordpower fools had found; and then giving it all to
the Proctan-shaped Goddess standing right beside him. He felt no qualms over giving his life if necessary to ensure Gwyndle survived and even became stronger as a result. His other companions were pushed to the back of his mind as if they didn’t even exist anymore.

  With his new-found purpose, he rushed ahead as his eyesight and other senses seemed to pick out signs that previously would’ve escaped him. Without other thoughts and conversations distracting him, the progress they made meant that what normally would have taken half a day instead only took less than an hour as he was practically running toward the end. He heard shouts behind him to slow down, but he was so focused on his objective that he ignored everything.

  “What did you do to him? I’ve never seen him like this!”

  “Yeah, what did you do? I swear if this gets us killed I’m going to come back and kill you again, bitch!”

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything he wasn’t already wanting. Besides, it got us to where we needed to go faster. See?”

  He ignored the conversations behind him as they weren’t important to his purpose. Which, when he looked ahead, he could see that he had found what he was looking for. Almost as by some sort of divine inspiration, sunlight broke through the gloominess of the forest to highlight the clearing ahead. As he paused at the edge, he noticed what appeared to be tree stumps dotting the surrounding area. Whoever is or was here certainly needed a lot of trees.

  Tall and thick grass covered the clearing, marked by trails leading from the stumps to a massive hole in the center. When he heard the others approach behind him, he cautiously started to make his way toward the hole. His prior breakneck approach was forgotten as he didn’t need to follow signs to figure out where they were supposed to go. They were here, and now it required a more delicate approach. Particularly if he wanted to keep Gwyndle safe and sound.

  With his battleaxe pulled from his back, he inched forward as he made his way through the thick stalks of grass. He was aiming his path to intersect one of the others leading toward the hole because it was too hard to see anything in there that might be a possible danger.

  A scream from behind him swung him around in a panic as thoughts of his Gwyndle being hurt rushed through his mind. Relief flooded him as he saw that it was just Klareece being assaulted by eight snakes that had heads three times the size of their bodies. They were hanging on to her skin where they had pierced her through her robes, with one unluckily lodged in her crotch. Quick as a thought, the Elemental Caster lit a stick that seemed to appear as if by magic in her hand and each of the snakes burst into flame. Her control was so precise that her robes didn’t even have any singe marks as they dropped off one-by-one.

  Rustling in the nearby grass prompted Gwyndle to act. With a simple wave of her hand the grass within twenty feet of them appeared to come alive as it undulated back and forth, opposite of the slight breeze blowing through the clearing. Another wave of her hand caused the grass to lay down flat, exposing four more of the large-headed snakes making their way toward the already-injured Caster.

  Immediately, the grass around the slithering forms braided themselves into a rope and slid around their necks whereupon they were lifted into the air. As the snakes struggled to escape, the rope tightened further and further until they started to hear *pop* as each head was severed and dropped to the ground, unmoving. The entire attack had taken no more than twenty seconds from start to finish and everyone was silent as they braced for anything else that might come at them.

  When nothing else attacked, they relaxed a little as Klareece whimpered in pain at the bites along her legs and crotch. They didn’t appear life-threatening, but they must have hurt. Queel walked over and touched her arm so that he could heal her – which was a thoughtful mistake. The already high-strung and now-injured Caster lashed out with a flame to his face which caused him to fall back in pain as his eyes and skin melted from the heat. Klareece realized her own mistake as she snuffed out the fire with a thought, but the damage was already done.

  Still screaming with pain, Queel was conscious enough to use his ability on himself. Even knowing that it would start to fade after 72 hours, Antone was still impressed at how quickly and completely the healing restored his party member’s face. It even somehow regrew his eyebrows!

  When it was finished, Queel looked exhausted but Antone knew that his groupmate still had a lot of power left in him to heal. As he recovered from the hellish wounds to his face, their Healer glared at the one who had caused it, “And for that, you can suffer – I’m not going to heal you. You better hope you don’t get hurt anymore because I’m not going to save you, bitch.”

  This infighting wasn’t good for their teamwork or morale, but Antone was past caring as long as it didn’t detrimentally effect Gwyndle. He turned back to the way he was going, ignoring the apologies and pleas Klareece was making toward Queel – it wasn’t his problem. To his wonder, the way forward was clear; the grass all the way to the hole had been flattened in a swath that allowed him to see any danger nearby. A few small furry forms with antlers on their heads were struggling against the same grass they were formerly hiding in. Within moments, they were choked out just like those damned snakes from before. While their heads didn’t pop off, they did emit some weak but satisfying strangled screams as they died.

  He glanced back at the Nature Manipulator who returned a smile that made him feel like he was floating among the clouds.

  With a lightened heart and bolstered resolve, he led his party into the dark recesses of the sloped pathway in the ground. He didn’t know what this place was or what it had in store for them – nor did he care. All he cared about was keeping his Gwyndle safe and making her rich in the process.

  Chapter 10 – Portable happiness

  When Brint woke up the next day, he did so in a panic. The unfamiliar, non-scratchy sheets his fingers curled around as he sat bolt upright weren’t the ones he was used to in the small hovel he called home. Nor was the usual smell of unwashed clothing and rotting food present, which usually overwhelmed his senses until he acclimated to it. He could still smell the clothes he was wearing, but the rest of the place was…sterile, but with an earthy smell.

  It was black as the darkest night inside wherever he was, and he started to panic as he thought that someone had taken his eyes. Reaching up to his face, he was relieved to find that they were still there – but it didn’t explain everything else. Just as he was thinking that he must have been captured and imprisoned somewhere, his memories of the last couple of days hit him like a sledgehammer.

  When he was done processing the events that led him here, he reached out with his ability to manipulate the sensor orb that he could “feel” floating above his head near the ceiling. With a blinding flash of light, the room around him was illuminated even brighter than a sunny day. He immediately turned down the brightness level and spent the next minute working on getting his vision back. While he did, he mentally reached to where he knew the orbs were in the surrounding rooms and gradually increased the brightness levels.

  Brint was a little shocked at how easy it was to sense and direct the orbs even when he couldn’t see them. He couldn’t remember being able to do that before – he always needed line-of-sight. Now, however, as he closed his eyes and reached out with his mind, he could “feel” the drones nearby that were waiting patiently in what he suspected was Whisp’s now-finished Workshop. Stretching out ever further, he got a vague sense of other drones nearby, but they were apparently out-of-range of this new facet of his ability.

  “Finally! I’ve been awake for almost an hour! I would’ve woken you up earlier, but I couldn’t even find my way out of my room it was so dark. Next time leave the hallway light on at least,” Whisp shouted as she ran through his doorway. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her, looking as refreshed as he felt…and alive. She was alive, he was alive – they were alive. With the sleep he had gotten, he felt a renewed sense of purpose as he threw himself out of bed.

  He looked b
ack at the sheets and saw how disgusting they had gotten – flakes of dried blood, dirt, and even a slight dampness that was probably leftover from the water inside The Milton’s Core Room. He hadn’t noticed it last night because he was so exhausted, but he really needed a change of clothes.

  He looked at his best friend and saw that other than a few wrinkles (probably caused by sleeping in them) they were none the worse for wear. The material they were made out of appeared extremely durable – more durable than his own linen rags. Connecting with the Molecular Converter seemed even easier and faster today and he ordered up some new clothes like the “T-shirt and jeans” Whisp was wearing. He automatically sent some drones to get it and ordered up some breakfast as well. It took a little longer because he had to specifically think about what he wanted and how it was made – there wasn’t anything on the list that he recognized otherwise.

  Whisp was bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement, like a kid eager to open presents on Mid-year Day. Brint smiled to himself as he remembered when he was really young rushing downstairs in his old house, so eager to open his gifts that he ended up falling down the stairs and breaking his ankle. Fortunately, they lived near an old Healer who fixed him up like nothing had happened and he got his presents – albeit later than he normally did.

  His parents kept the gifts from him for a week, ostensibly to teach him a lesson on restraint and patience. He never really learned that lesson, but he was more careful in the years following that incident.

  “Go on, check it out. I’ll be there with some food soon,” he told the excited girl.

  A high-pitched squeal of excitement was expelled from the newly-reborn Inventor before she raced off without argument. Brint waited as he could feel the drones getting closer to his room with their cargo. He stripped out of his old clothes, at some points literally peeling them off as sweat and dried blood had adhered them to his body. I really need to bathe – I wonder if The Milton would be mad if I washed off in his Core Room.