by DB King
Swift as the wind, she reached into her haystack hair and whipped out a little silver pin. Before he could flinch backward, she darted a hand out and jabbed the pin into the soft flesh on the back of his right hand, between the thumb and forefinger.
“Ow!” Marcus exclaimed, swatting her away. Blood immediately welled up from the wound, and he instinctively raised his hand to his mouth to suck at it. She reached out and stopped him.
Her face was insistent as she watched him closely. “Show me the healing power!” she demanded.
Marcus glared at her. “You might have warned me you were going to stick me with a pin!”
She grinned wickedly at him. “Would that have made it hurt less? Come on, show me!”
He shrugged. Raising his left hand, he carefully channeled a drip of water from his finger and let it fall onto the bleeding pin-prick. For a moment, nothing happened, and then, with no fanfare, the wound knitted up and vanished.
Elemental ability: Water
Current Mastery Level: Novice
Level progress: 3%
Progress to Apprentice level: 20%
Ella sat back down, her eyes wide as she stared at him. “Do you know what this means, Marcus?”
“I can heal myself, and maybe even others.” Marcus said. “It’s an amazing power, but are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”
“It means,” she said, interrupting him, “that you are the Eloran, the Dungeon Bearer of legend. It means that the great power of the ancient dungeons is rising again! You’re it, the one who was prophesied!”
“Woah, back up a minute there!” Marcus protested, holding up his hands. “What are you talking about? What’s the Dungeon Bearer? The Elo… who?” Then Marcus’s eyes suddenly widened as he recalled what the red robed woman had called him, the woman who’d given him the ring and the mace.
“Eloran,” he said. “That’s what the red robed woman called me.”
“Red robed woman?” Ella asked.
Marcus then told Ella about his encounter with the red robed woman, along with the ring and mace she’d given him. Ella had no idea who the woman was, or about the items she’d given Marcus, but her identity was clearly important—but it also seemed an unsolvable mystery right now.
Ella smiled at Marcus. “Regardless as to who she is—she was right. I don’t know how she could have possibly known, but you’re Eloran, the Dungeon Bearer!”
“That’s all well and good,” Marcus said. “But I still have no idea what that’s meant to me.”
“Oh, right, I don’t suppose you’d have any notion of what I’m talking about.”
Rising up into the air, she hovered a little way off from him and began to speak.
“In the Kingdom of Doran, there is still a faerie realm, but it’s much reduced from what it used to be. It’s said that a long time ago, the realm of the faeries covered a wide area of land, and that they held great power. At the heart of this realm was the Eloran, a powerful sorcerer and dungeon master whose control over the dungeons was like no one else’s. It was said that he could create dungeons in detail, by hand, rather than having to rely on their own evolution cycles. He had power over the fundamental elements of the dungeons. And at the core of his power was a magic that no one else had. The Eloran had the power to heal wounds and sickness, and to raise the dead.”
Marcus sat up and leaned forward. “But this was a long time ago, right? What happened to the Eloran?”
“He became corrupted. His power was so great that he was able to heal himself, and through this power, he gave himself endless life. He became immortal, living undying for hundreds of years. As the centuries passed, he refined his powers until he became like an ancient god of power and creativity. He knew all that happened within the world, he was invulnerable to attack or wound, and he could create—not dungeons—but whole new worlds.”
She shook her head sadly. “Perhaps no man should have such power. I don’t know. But ultimately it all came down to his intentions. At the height of his power, the Eloran lost his head over a princess from the Southlands, a beautiful, vivacious girl who was the heir to a kingdom that no longer exists. She wouldn’t have him, no matter what he did. In the end, he tried to use his power to have her, and everything he’d created came crashing down.”
“He lost it all? Just because of one act of bad intention?” Marcus was amazed, but Ella nodded.
“Because he used his magic to a bad end,” she said. “He killed her, you see. When she wouldn’t have him, he used his magic to take her life. They called him Dungeon Bearer because all the power of all the dungeons in the world rested in his hand. That’s what Eloran means—Dungeon Bearer—in the old language of the faeries. But all the dungeons turned on him, and the empire he built crumbled, and eventually he went mad and made an end of himself.”
“And this healing magic, this power to heal using the elements—it’s never been seen again?” Marcus guessed.
“Until now,” Ella replied. “It was always said that, when an age of the world had passed by, another might come to take up the mantle of the Eloran. Another who might be able to harness the colossal power of dungeon magic. And the prophecy said that was how we would know him—he would be able to heal with elemental power.”
They both sat back and let this sink in for a while. After a little time had passed, Marcus took a deep breath. “If this is true,” he said, “how do I avoid the pitfalls? It seems a dangerous power to have, if it can all go so wrong for him. What’s stopping everything from crumbling down around me too?”
She fixed him with her strange green eyes. “Do as you have been doing. Your intentions are pure, and you desire only to do good for others. Keep doing that. Keep raising up the low, defending the weak. Take care with your dungeons, and be strict with yourself when you feel the temptations to misuse your power.”
“Protect the weak, and do not give in to the temptation to evil,” Marcus smiled. “I guess that’s no more than any man might be asked to do in his life.”
Ella nodded. “Exactly. Keep a watch on yourself, and you should be fine.” She reached out and touched his hand. “And don’t worry. The kind of power that the Eloran reached took him centuries to acquire. You’ve got plenty of time to learn your path.”
Marcus smiled. He took a breath to speak when a sudden sense of urgency gripped him. He felt as if he was being gripped by a desire to flee from some danger. His breath caught in his throat and sweat beaded on his forehead. He sprang to his feet.
“Marcus, what is it?” Ella asked.
He looked at her. “Don’t you feel it?” he said.
She began to shake her head, and then her eyes suddenly widened. “Oh! It’s… outside, I think. At the door!”
They both dashed to the dungeon entrance, and Marcus flung the door open, revealing the entrance chamber outside the grove. The little dark, stone room was filled with members of the Gutter Gang.
Everyone was shouting at once, and Marcus couldn’t make out a word that anyone was saying. He was about to call for quiet when there was a loud bellowing from the back of the entrance hall. Kairn Greymane appeared, in full battledress with his huge two-headed axe over his broad shoulder. He shouldered his way through the press, bellowing for quiet in a voice like a lighthouse foghorn.
Immediately, everyone shut up.
Kairn lumbered up to Marcus and looked up into his face. His expression was grim, and his eyes were hard as flint. “It’s begun,” he said. “The attack has begun. The Sewer Slayers and the ratmen are here, and they’ve brought their friends.”
“Their friends?” said Marcus, drawing his sword. “Well, are there many of them?”
Kairn’s stern face was suddenly transformed by a fierce grin. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Hundreds.”
Chapter 24
“Hurry to the barricades!” Marcus shouted. “That’s where we’ll hold them! Kairn, with me. Tell me what’s happened. In detail! Ella, you should stay in the Grove chamber unless you want to fight.”
“Very well,” Marcus agreed, then turned his attention to Kairn’s report.
“Jay found them out in the corridors,” the dwarf explained as they marched down the corridor to the main hall. “He led a small scouting party out and got a good look at them before they saw him. There are so many of them that they’ve had to assemble in three different tunnels—there is not enough room in any single one for them all to gather together.”
“Anyone hurt?” Marcus asked tersely.
Kairn shook his head. “Not yet, anyway. But they’ll come on hard, and this is no skirmish. They’re out for blood. They’ll exterminate us or die trying.”
“Then they’ll die,” said Marcus grimly. “Tell me about their friends. What did you mean by that?”
“They have an army of murgals in the vanguard. Many, many of them, more than I’ve even seen gathered together in one place. And you know how the murgals hardly ever wear armor? Well, this time they all are.”
“What else?”
“Well, there’s the ratmen, of course. There’s flamethrower cohorts, berserker units, ballistae, and well-armed spear units too. And then there’s the Sewer Slayers—someone had the bright idea of armoring them like heavy knights and putting them on the backs of wargs to serve as steeds. There’s at least two hundred of them.”
Kairn counted off on his fingers as they walked. Apparently, he relished the opportunity for a fight. “And then there’s the city guard,” he said cheerfully.
“The city guard!?” Marcus was surprised.
“Oh, yes,” said Kairn. “A good showing of them, considering their reputation for cowardice. I don’t know how many exactly—maybe fifty or a hundred, armed with crossbows and axes and man-high shields.”
“Anything else?” said Marcus. He had the feeling that Kairn was not quite done yet.
“Oh, the spiders,” the dwarf said. “Forgot about them. I hate spiders, I do, but they’ve managed to round up about fifty big battle spiders, all done up in that rusty plate and mail they favor. I think that’s about it.”
They had reached the main hall of the Gutter Gang’s lair now. It was empty, as everyone was down at the barricade, awaiting the onset of the battle.
Kairn grinned up at Marcus.
Marcus gave him a wry look. “Kairn, how many fighters do we have?”
“Oh, thirty-four, I think,” said Kairn cheerily.
“I thought there were thirty-five?” Marcus asked.
“Yeah, there were, but Barron hurt his foot and he’s useless now. Thirty-four.”
“Thirty-four warriors, against an army of hundreds!” said Marcus, glaring at the dwarf. “So why are you so damn cheerful?”
Kairn grinned at him, showing a line of crooked yellow teeth. He reached up a beefy hand and slapped Marcus on the arm. “Because we’ve got you, my friend,” he said. “We’ve got you. We can’t lose!”
Chapter 25
Marcus had to admire Kairn’s confidence, though he was not sure that he shared it. The Gutter Gang were outnumbered and under-equipped. And if that wasn’t enough, they had wargs and battle spiders and the blasted city guard on their side too.
Well, I’m ready to give it my best shot, he thought. Perhaps Kairn’s correct, and my power will be able to turn the tide. One way to find out!
He had grabbed the ornate mace that the mysterious woman in the city had given him. His sword hung by his side as usual, but something told him the mace might find a use in the coming battle. After all, being armed to the teeth was never a bad idea.
Followed by Kairn and Ella, Marcus strode purposefully down the corridor toward the barricade. The Gutter Gang had done good work to reinforce it. A stout wall of thick timbers was reinforced with piled stones at the front. Kairn had armed his warriors with slingshots, and each person had a row of smooth, round rocks in front of them. The Gutter Gang were drawn up in ranks, six abreast, with enough room between each person so they could move freely.
Kairn had trained everyone who was fit for fighting. A few people who were not able to fight had stayed behind with the three young children whose parents lived with the Gang, but everyone else was here at the barricades. The dwarf had trained them well. They stood in absolute silence, awaiting orders, faces stern and ready for the coming battle.
With the armor and weapons Marcus had brought down to the Underway, the Gang were well-equipped. Because of the influence of the dungeon magic on the Gang, they were strong and capable. The combination of these two elements and Kairn’s training had turned the Gang into a formidable force. But would it be enough to shift the odds in their favor?
Still too few, Marcus thought, still unsure. He couldn’t help doubting their ability to fend off such a huge force as had been gathered against them, but he shook off his doubts.
He glanced back at Ella. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I think,” she said slowly, “that if you place the dungeons on the outside of the barricade, the enemies are going to go in. They’re here for the dungeons, aren’t they? It’s knowledge of the dungeons that has prompted them to raise such a big force. They don’t fully understand what the dungeons are, I don’t think. If they did, they would know that they can’t expect to realistically take control of them from you.”
Marcus nodded. “They’re being driven in by Xeron,” he said. “The Diremage has encouraged them to come and fight here, and to fight the dungeons, but it’s you he wants. I’ll bet there’ll be an elite team embedded within this army whose only mission is to seek you out. The others will be looking for plunder, through the dungeons. If we give them the opportunity to go into a dungeon, they’ll take it.”
Marcus jumped over the barricade and placed the Bladehand dungeon on the right of the barricade and the Harpy dungeon on the left. He kept the Pirate’s Cove dungeon in reserve. In his cloak, he also had the Cursed Pestilence dungeon, though his instincts told him very clearly that he should only consider using that as a last resort.
The doors to the dungeons glowed invitingly, and Marcus was pleased to find that the dungeons had provided a little scattering of gold nuggets across the floor in front of their doors. The greedy ratmen would surely be drawn in to fight, but Marcus was less sure about the murgals and the Sewer Slayers. The murgals were stupid, single-minded creatures who wanted only to kill. The Sewer Slayers were human, and less likely to be drawn easily into a trap.
The ratmen were just the right mix of stupid and greedy to be drawn in by the chance of a quick win. They were cunning creatures, clever builders, and inventors, yet they lacked the capacity to think clearly and critically about a problem. Faced with a dungeon doorway, they would plunge in, looking for loot and not thinking beyond that.
Marcus was relying on it.
After he’d placed the dungeons, he scrambled back up the barricade. Instead of immediately jumping down, he gazed out at the Gutter Gang for a moment and spoke in a clear voice that carried through the wide corridor.
“Gutter Gang! We have been waiting for this for a long time. The Sewer Slayers want to end our occupation of the Underway—they want to end our very lives! But we’ve trained for this, and we have the power of the dungeons. We’re vastly outnumbered, but we have the advantage of the dungeons, we have the advantage of the high ground, and a good defensive wall. And we have the right! There’s no excuse for the Sewer Slayers and the ratmen to evict us! Today, you will see magic happening! I will use my dungeons to their full advantage, and the effects may be strange and unexpected. Do not fear! Anything that happens will be to our advantage. Fight with me, and when our enemies come, they will break their army against our wall like the sea on a wharf!”
The Gutter Gang cheered and clashed their weapons together, and the noise boomed through the high-r
oofed tunnel. Marcus leaped down, his mace in one hand and his sword in the other, and at that moment, the Gutter Gang’s war cry was answered.
A guttural roaring carried through the inky darkness of the Underway beyond. Hundreds of voices yelling out a wordless, threatening battle-cry. The enemy army was coming, and judging by the volume of the sound, they’d be on them soon enough. Within the wordless shouting, a deep voice boomed in command, and the first wave of enemy fighters flooded into view in front of the Gutter Gang’s defenses.
The vanguard was made up exclusively of murgals. The monsters were troll-like, but much smaller. They hunched over, their flat, noseless faces thrust forward and their big white eyes gleaming in the faint light.
As Kairn had said, they were armed in chainmail and many of them had rusty pot-helms. The murgals did not often wear armor, however, and it clearly slowed them down.
Marcus clambered up a little way so that he could see over the barrier, and two others of the Gang peered through viewing-holes that had been deliberately left during the building process. There was no gap in the defensive wall—the usual entrance and exit gate had been blocked up with rocks and timbers.
“Hold!” Marcus shouted, putting a hand up. “Hold until I give the order!”
Marcus watched the oncoming tide of murgals until he reckoned they were within slingshot range, then roared the order to the Gang. “Fire!”
A rain of rocks hurtled through the air, whistling as they sailed over the barrier. They crashed into the mass of murgals on the other side. As soon as one flight was in the air, the Gang were already reloading and flinging another volley over the wall.
And with each volley, a cluster of murgals collapsed with sudden squeals. Marcus watched as many of the murgals went down. They were packed tightly together, and the flights of rocks smashed helms and skulls and evil-looking faces under their weight. Dark blood fountained out and splattered the others. The second flight of stones overshot, and most of them clattered ineffectively onto the ground beyond the advancing murgals. In the shadows beyond, Marcus could see a mass of dark moving figures, but there was no sign of the second wave advancing just yet.
