His Royal Majesty Jonah: What the hell is a rock singer? Is that some sort of bard?
Gretchen: That is odd. I can’t examine its properties from here. What can it do?
I’d forgotten Gretchen and Jonah were still in my party.
Poppy: I don’t know yet. Did you see that weird notification? And what was up with that error? She was at the mage union. See if you can find anything about them.
Gretchen: Will do. So you decided to go with three mages?
Poppy: Hold my beer.
Gretchen: What?
Scrolling through the menu, I found the section I wanted.
Are you sure? Yes/No?
I clicked Yes.
NPC Pritford (Level 44, Fire Mage, Human) has been fired!
NPC Pritford (Level 44, Fire Mage, Human) has left the party.
Popper Note 6
The screaming faded as the heavy door of the mage union closed behind us. I’d had to pay a full day’s wages, but it was worth every damn jack. Besides, I’d somehow managed to score the other two for a mere 100 jacks a day, and neither of them seemed to care. I didn’t expect to have them with me for very long, but at that price, I could afford to keep them indefinitely if I needed to.
Bingo and Granger waited for me in the middle of the street.
“Bingo, Granger. Meet Nale and, uh, Spritz.”
The NPCs all stared at each other, nobody talking or introducing themselves. I sighed. It didn’t matter how realistic they made these guys, every once in a while they’d do something to remind me I was the only real person here.
“Did you find anything of interest?” I asked Bingo.
He grunted. “There’s not a single warrior amongst them I couldn’t defeat in battle. But there are some worthy fighters. Many half-ogres are available who meet your requirements.”
“I found a group of competent archers,” Granger added. “They’re triplets, and you can have them all for a single price. But if you want to hire them, there’s a catch.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s hire some fighters first. We need to go over to the white jacket stronghold, and I suspect we’ll need some muscle with us. After we figure out what’s going on there, we’ll come back and look at archers and sappers.”
I needed to fill up my party as soon as possible, but it wasn’t a good idea to have too many NPCs in an indoor dungeon, which is what the White Jacket stronghold was going to be. Archers tended to get themselves killed indoors, and I didn’t want to hire a bunch only to have to come back here and hire someone else. The spiral with a linear path was one thing, but grinding an honest-to-goodness dungeon with a party of trigger-happy dumbasses was going to be a nightmare. I needed to be able to manage the group. Besides, if I had too many NPCs with me, it would dilute the experience pool too much.
We hired four half-ogres, all plain-old fighters. All four of the lumbering warriors wore full plate armor with reinforced chest plates and helms. Their armor glowed with anti-piercing enchantments, which would help us get through the first length of the spiral. Three wielded swords and carried substantial shields. The fourth wielded a heavy maul that glowed with a Knockback enchantment. The cylindrical head of the giant weapon was the size of a garbage can.
Poppy: Raj, are you doing okay?
Raj: Raj is fine! Raj is making many new friends! Raj visited the river! There are no shells there, but I got some good sand!
The kid’s obsession with shells and sand was weird as shit, but who was I to judge? My mom had collected ceramic teddy bears dressed as clowns and my old man had collected the centerfold posters in old nudie magazines. Come to think of it, it was a lot more normal than most.
Poppy: Okay, we are heading back to The Donut Boater. Meet us there.
Ten minutes later, we all stood in the empty street.
“Raj,” I said. “Have you heard anything about the white jackets?”
The little polecat was fascinated with Spritz the astound. The furry little ferret kept touching the rock giant’s leg. Spritz grimaced with mild annoyance, but she didn’t shoo the boy away.
“Yes,” Raj said after a moment, backing away from the giant. “They are all gone! Their castle is empty.”
“Is that all you know?”
“No. They say something icky and spooky has moved into the castle.”
“Do you know what?”
“Raj does not know! Raj does not want to know!”
As I suspected. I’d completed dozens of those investigate-why-they-abandoned-the-outpost quests over the years, and it always ended up being the same thing. The place crawled with monsters. “Okay, little buddy. You go talk to your friends some more. I don’t want you going in there with us.”
Without another word, Raj scurried off back into town.
“Okay, guys,” I said, talking to the group as we walked the two blocks over back to the white jacket stronghold. We were 13 total. Me and Alice, Granger, Bingo and his two gorcupines, Tiatha the druid, Spritz the astound, Nale the arcanist, and the four half-ogres. “I want two of the half-ogres walking point, followed by Winston and Flaky. Then me and Bingo. I want Nale and Tiatha behind me, ready with protection and healing in case anything attacks. Then Spritz and Granger, and then two more half-ogres holding up the rear. It’ll be good practice for when we probe the spiral. If we get surrounded, healers and Granger in the middle. Everybody got it?”
Everyone mumbled their assent. I spent some time looking at Spritz’s skills, and almost all of them seemed useless in battle. However, we could really use someone like her back in Harmony. She could build walls and move rocks with her mind. It seemed one of her spells allowed her to actually move buildings around. I suspected similar mages were likely spread about in union halls around the world. We’d been building up the city the hard way, hiring mobs of laborers to repair the walls brick-by-brick. The existence of Spritz, using a class and magic I’d never heard of, suggested she was added to the game when the city-building aspect had been added. I told Gretchen and Jonah what I’d found so far, and they agreed.
Gretchen: I will go look tonight to see if any more of these things are in the union halls here. Be careful in that stronghold.
Poppy: Yes, mom.
A red sign in front of the white jacket stronghold read, “Closed! The commander is not in! Do not enter on pain of death by order of the Dominion Crown!” The wide, white-washed double doors stood at least fifteen feet high. I eyed the arrow slits surrounding the entrance nervously as the front line of our party approached.
The lead half-ogre, an especially ugly guy named Critical, ripped the sign off the wall. His companion, the maul-wielding half-ogre, was named Vern. Vern swung his maul wide and smashed against the oak door of the white jacket stronghold. The thwump! echoed across the empty causeway. The door didn’t budge. He grunted with annoyance and tried again. And again.
“Yo, dude!” I called up to him.
Vern paused and looked at me.
“Did you check to see if it was locked?”
Vern and Critical looked at each other, and Critical leaned forward and pressed the latch. With a loud groan, the big door pushed open.
“Christ on a cracker,” I muttered as we filed up the stairs and into the stronghold.
I wasn’t worried that the larger members of the party, namely Bingo and Spritz, wouldn’t be able to get through the hallways. Governmental buildings tended to be extra large to accommodate half-ogres, who usually stood only a couple feet shorter than Bingo. However, I was worried Alice’s wide bulk would make it difficult for us to explore. One didn’t usually bring their mount with them on inside quests. I’d bring her for now, but I suspected I’d have to leave her to fend for herself soon.
Entering the White Jacket Garrison at Quibou.
This is a hidden dungeon!
Achievement unlocked! Find a hidden dungeon.
This is a public dungeon. You have no time limit to complete this area.
This dungeon is rated expert difficul
ty.
“Shit,” I muttered. Expert difficulty meant dangerous monsters. My level of 20 was still much too low to go into a place like this. If I didn’t have such a large party surrounding me, I’d be dead for certain. I took a deep breath. This is what you’re here for.
We stood in a large, ornate entranceway made of marble. The arched ceiling had to stand at least twenty feet high. A simple, empty desk sat near the door. A thick coating of dust covered everything. Multiple suits of decorative armor lined the walls, and at the end of the room, twin doors led into the interior of the stronghold. Interior scaffolding surrounded the walls above us as we entered, giving defenders a spot to stand and fire through the arrow slits. Against the far, tall wall, a battered, twenty-foot tapestry depicted the now-dead King Bartholomew. Even in tapestry form, the fantasy version of Bart Hughes, the original creator of the game, seemed morose. Rumors persisted that Hughes, who had suffered from severe depression most of his life, had killed himself, crashing his own airplane on purpose. Whomever had designed the tapestry did a good job depicting a deep, inner sadness.
This room appeared to have been abandoned for a long time.
Alice issued a low growl. “I smell bad things in here,” she said.
Bingo grunted. “She is correct. This smell is unfamiliar to me.”
I suddenly felt very exposed, and I realized I, stupidly, hadn’t donned my armor yet. I removed my Viking helm, plopped it on Alice’s head, and pulled the beetle breastplate from my bag. I pulled the light but awkward armor over my shoulders. I felt the speed enhancement take effect. The spiked, chitinous armor also imbued Damage Reflect, though I found out the hard way it only worked with physical damage, not magical. The armor itched terribly, and I didn’t like wearing it, but I could wear it over my dress and slip it on and off easily. I slapped my helmet back on, and the now-familiar lightness of the helmet’s Feather Fall enchantment took hold. I clutched my battle axe in my hands.
“Where’s my armor?” Alice asked.
“I didn’t bring it,” I said.
“What? Why?” she asked, sounding dejected.
“I told you why. It doesn’t fit in my bag, and you can’t just wear it everywhere. You can barely walk in that stuff.”
Alice looked like she was about to cry. “But I like wearing it.”
I patted her on the side. “I’m sorry. Maybe next time.”
“What are we looking for?” Bingo asked.
I read the quest again, and it said simply, “look for clues.” I remembered how Gretchen had figured out how Sandra the Learnt was a polecat and not a human. This quest was part of a world event, so whatever we were looking for, it would probably be something subtle. I wasn’t too good at subtle, but I was the only one here, and I had to try.
“Look for anything out of the ordinary,” I said. The innkeeper had mentioned the commander, so maybe whatever the hell we were looking for was in there. “See if we can find the office of the commander.”
We moved forward, a loud, clanking line of armor. With the half-ogres and gorcupines in the party, we’d never be able to sneak up on anything. Two sets of doors sat against the far hallway. After inspecting both, it appeared the left door led to both up and down stairs, and the right door led forward into the next hall. This next hall was barely wide enough for Bingo.
“No,” Alice said, anticipating what I was about to say. “Don’t leave me alone in here.”
“I have a very important job for you,” I said, sliding off Alice’s back.
“No,” she repeated, stomping her foot. “I can fit through there.”
I nodded at the hallway. “Yes, you probably can fit. But you can’t turn around, and if we’re attacked, we’d be sitting ducks. Listen, Alice. I’m leaving you here with Spritz. I want you two to guard our backs. If you see anything, message me.”
“No, no, no!” she repeated, her voice rising. Then, a whisper. “I don’t think Spritz likes me.”
I rubbed the side of her massive, purple head. She nuzzled me, her eyes pleading. “You will be fine. See all the dust in this room? It means nothing has come in here in a long time. I just need you to make sure our escape is clear.”
“I’ll be fine, but what about you?”
Spritz put a heavy, granite-like hand on Alice’s rump, causing her to jump with surprise. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s let Popper and the boys have their fun while we keep them safe, okay?”
I gave Spritz a thankful smile. Alice grumbled as she and Spritz returned to near the entranceway of the room.
“Go on, then,” I said to Vern and Critical, and the two half-ogres stamped into the next hall, the rest of us following.
“I’m a girl. I know how to have fun,” Tiatha said, startling all of us. It was the first time the druid had ever said anything without first being asked.
“Okay then,” I said. “Let’s go.”
If this area followed the pattern of most dungeons, we’d soon meet a monster that would set the tone for the rest of the building. This hall led to a series of doorways, and after a quick inspection, it became clear this area was used for training and feeding the white jackets. A cursory glance at a few closets found stores of food, mostly the tasteless traveler’s biscuits. I grabbed a handful and stuffed them into my bag. The cafeteria seemed to be nothing but a featureless room with long tables and chairs, and the training area appeared to be bereft of equipment save a few nicked-up training dummies.
The cooking area just past the cafeteria held more interest.
The place was trashed. While everything we’d seen so far appeared abandoned and neglected, this was the first room we’d found with signs of post-abandonment life. It appeared a fight had occurred here. Several cast-iron pots lay scattered, and a chopping block had fallen on its side. Dark bloodstains covered the walls and counters.
The food stores were ransacked. The wooden crates with the Dominion royal stamp had been ripped open, and scattered rice grains and dried-out husks of corn crunched underfoot as we walked.
“There are footprints,” Granger said after a moment, pointing to a faded area in the dust.
I squatted down to examine them. They were odd prints, round with three, large toes. Almost duck-like. If the feet were any indication, the monster was about human-sized. Granger kneeled beside me. I summoned Tiatha over to also take a look. If anyone could identify the creature from the odd footprints, it would be either the hunter or the druid.
“Can you tell what this is?”
“No,” Tiatha replied. She stood and returned to her position.
“It is light on its toes,” Granger said. “There are at least five of them, probably more.” He pointed to the back of the kitchen. “They sneaked up on their prey there, a dwarf. Probably the cook, who may have been the only one remaining while the others were in the spiral. A battle ensued, and the cook got a few good bonks in before being killed there.” He indicated the blood on the wall.
I nodded, examining the blood on the wall and the bloody frying pan. This was all game setup. We were meant to find this scene here. Blood and gore didn’t normally last beyond the 24 hours or so after something was killed. The skeleton would persist for many days, a week or more, but after a while, it would turn to dust the moment someone or something touched it.
“See the shape of the footprint?” Granger continued. “This is no manner of creature I’ve ever come across, but it has webbed feet. It is an aquatic creature.”
That was odd. A large river separated Quibou from Castellane, but it stood a good half mile away, and this stronghold was in the middle of the town.
“Okay,” I said, standing. “Let’s keep moving.”
We didn’t find anything else of interest on the first floor. The entire place appeared to have been cleared out. The second and third floor was much the same. A large barracks stood abandoned, with nothing left but mattresses and linens. Footlockers stood at the end of each bunk, and we spent some time popping them open and sifting through the
contents. Most contained clothes and the occasional jack. I looted a total of 46 jacks and a small knife that glowed with an unidentified enchantment. A few officer’s quarters stood locked, and we bashed the doors in. These rooms contained finer items, including an enchanted ring I also pocketed. Most of the other items were either silver or gold. Valuable, but not enchanted. I took a pair of gold candlesticks that I thought would be worth the most, but I left the rest. I didn’t have the pack space to take everything.
It didn’t appear as if the commander’s room was on this floor.
All that was left to explore was the basement. After checking on Alice, who appeared to be regaling Spritz with the story of the tournament battle against the chinchillas, we entered the wide stairwell leading down.
“Shit,” I said the moment darkness surrounded us. I’d forgotten torches. I was going to have to run to the store and pick some up. “We need light.” Way to be prepared, dumbass.
“I got this,” Nale said. The auric arcanist muttered a few words, and an odd yellow light filled the passage, giving everyone a jaundiced appearance.
“How long will it last?” I asked, trying to keep the uncertainty from my voice.
“Uh, I should be able to keep this up for a long time,” the auric said. The light flickered ominously. “As long as I don’t have to cast anything else, that is.”
We proceeded down the steps. I immediately sensed danger. The air felt much warmer and humid. A sound of something—distant splashing, maybe?—wafted toward us.
“Be careful,” I called down to Vern and Critical. “There’s something…”
Critical was dead before I finished the sentence.
Several things happened at once.
The moment the two half-ogres hit the landing, four creatures jumped out of the shadows at them. Small compared to the half-ogres, the turtle-like demons moved incredibly fast. They walked upright on two legs, but each of them sported a large, dark turtle shell. Their beaked faces were almost avian, and the four beasts slashed out with long, dripping claws at the half-ogres. They’re like human-sized Gameras from the Godzilla movies, I thought. I’d never seen anything like them before. One of them caught Critical across the waist, and the half-ogre crumpled like a sack of rocks. Vern reacted at the last possible moment, parrying with his large maul. He pushed his two attackers away, but not before he’d been slashed savagely across his exposed neck. He fell to his knees, not quite dead.
The Hobgoblin Riot: Dominion of Blades Book 2: A LitRPG Adventure Page 14
