by M Helbig
The pixie rubbed his hairy chin. “They’ve been groaning whenever Dumbus does something stupid and making comments on it. They have to be able to see in here.”
“How you know, then?” Dumbus asked. “Dumbus not do stupid since great potion mix up many day ago. Much booming. Big laugh at bind point.”
Alizia swung her lance in exaggerated motions above her head. “Yeah. If only there could be some obvious place they might be.” She thrust the lance a couple of times through the dark cloud above. “Like a place that would be perfect for watching a sporting event from a good vantage point.” She held her other hand out and pointed up. “A place that we currently can’t see into.” She synchronized her upward lance thrusts with her pointing finger. “You know like the ceiling, but the ceiling.”
Marknafian rubbed his chin in thought. “Could be.”
A booing came from the crowd.
Alizia thrust the lance a few more times while standing on her tippy toes. “Now, if only there was a way one of us could look up there.” She stared at the pixie. “If only one of us could, you know, fly. OK, I’m done with this hinting crap. You, with the wings, fly up there and check it out.”
After a wordless, gesture-filled conversation with Dumbus, Marknafian reluctantly fluttered up into the darkness above, cursing Alizia the whole time. A few nervous minutes later, a small explosion pierced through the silence and the pixie flew back into view with his wire-covered blunderbuss in front of him. He immediately flew back in and, even more quickly, shot back out.
“Had to pull out my last matches to see it, but there’s some sort of thick glass up here,” Marknafian said. “Ol’ Sparky barely put a dent in it.”
“Is—is that his name for his—" I put my hands over Alizia’s mouth before she finished the sentence.
“No, it’s his gun,” I said as I let go.
“Ohh . . . well, did he try the other thing? It’s so small it might fit through the cracks.”
Dumbus giggled. Luckily, Marknafian had been too occupied trying to blast through it again to hear. After about the tenth attempt, he finally stopped.
“Any luck, Marknafian?” I asked.
He cursed a few times under his breath as he descended. “Nope. Not even when I found an already existing small hole and tried to widen it. Even stuck an explosive potion in it. Still not big enough for me to fit through.”
“Alizia’s idea may have some merit,” Olaf said.
Alizia’s jaw dropped along with her lance. Fortunately, I managed to catch it before it crushed our diminutive friends.
“No, not to put that in it,” Olaf hastily added. “I mean, put something even smaller than him in it. Like a person or eight.” He pointed back at the rest of the tiny former chess pieces.
“Are they small enough, Marknafian?” I asked.
“One way to find out.” Marknafian shrugged and fluttered down to pick up a couple of the shrunken people. About a minute later, he flew back out of the darkness above with empty hands.
“We are in,” Olaf said in group chat. “The dirt elves have been rubbing their eyes for a while. I think Marknafian’s explosions temporarily blinded them as they have not noticed us yet, but I do not think that will last much longer. What is the plan?”
Marknafian made three more trips for the other former chess pieces while the rest of us tried to come up with what to do next. Olaf managed to use Inspect on a few of the more distracted dirt elves to give us an idea what we were up against. The good news was the highest was only level twenty, with an average level of twelve; the bad news was that with the diminished damage from their size and the dirt elves not having a weakness against anything, Olaf and his allies probably wouldn’t be able to beat a level one.
“Now what?” Alizia asked in group chat so Olaf could hear. “So, spells and physical attacks are out. Poison?”
“All of our poisons have shrunk with us,” Olaf said in group chat. “If we had a lot more on us, we could.”
I relayed the information to Dumbus and Marknafian.
“See if they can find some sort of lever or knob to open up the door,” Marknafian said.
“Sneak to outside,” Dumbus said. “Wear disguise with silly mustache. Adorableness ensue. Then turn knob to open door.”
“Olaf, our two new frenemies just said they think you’re ugly and I’m gorgeous,” Alizia said in group chat. “Also, that you should look around for some way to open the door to let us out so we maybe don’t die.”
“A good idea,” Olaf said. “Regrettably, the dirt elves’ vision has returned and neither mine nor my fellow Thief’s Sneak ability seems to be working. Something keeps dispelling it as soon as we put it on.”
“In three minutes, a new set of challengers will enter this arena,” the Voice said. “Cleanup of the previous participants will begin a minute prior.”
“Thank God,” Alizia said. “With all this physical activity and dampness, I’ve been sweating all over. A nice long bath will do me wonder—One minute! I’ll barely have my toes in the water by then.”
“Dumbus save time by leaving rubber ducky in bag. Sad bath. Two stars.”
“Maybe if we kill these two nitwits, the other nitwits above will accept it as a sacrifice to good taste and let us go,” Marknafian said. “What do ya say, Horus? If it doesn’t work, we’ll at least get a few minutes of pleasant silence.”
Alizia shook her head. “Rookie. Killing me only makes me louder.”
“Make Dumbus spookier.” He formed his mouth into an “O” and twinkled his fingers. “Wooooo! Ghost of Dumbus past.”
“Sacrifice! That’s it,” I said.
Alizia crossed her arms. “Since you and the filthy fairy are the only likely virgins around here, we’re starting with you.”
“Relax, I said you’re safe in this plan,” I said.
Dumbus scowled. “Dumbus demand recount.”
“You’re safe too, Dumbus,” I said. “So, our friends up there are too small to do any real damage to the normal-sized dirt elves. The only way for them to be able to hurt the elves would be to get back to their original sizes; however, the debuff that makes them small can’t be removed by any spells, items, or abilities they have. Through my stupidity, we found a way to remove it. They have to die.”
Marknafian nodded slowly. “And the Light Mage will resurrect them, which will restore them to their normal size like it did with me, and then they can take on the dirt elves.”
Dumbus raised his hand. “One thing, smart friend Horus. Rez take many manas. Lot of time. Dirt elves outnumber new, big friends. Local superiority.”
I didn’t have a good answer to Dumbus’s question. Like nearly everything past my level, I didn’t know a whole lot about the Resurrection spell, but I’d no doubt that Dumbus was right. Olaf relayed it to his companions and they confirmed it. The bishop told us that even with his considerable mana pool, he’d only be able to get two resurrections off before he’d need to start chugging mana potions; however, a few of the other tiny people had some great solutions. One of them was a Shining Knight. He volunteered to go first on being resurrected and would charge in with his twenty-four-hour Invulnerability while the other people got resurrected. They also had a Shaman with them who could use his Exchange Mana ability to transfer his mana to the Light Mage. I hadn’t realized that most of the former chess pieces were such high levels. I vowed that when I got some free time (whenever that was), I’d start learning more about all the classes.
“Cleaning begins in two minutes,” the Voice said.
“Woo-hoo!” Alizia said. “Bath time.”
I glared at her.
“Oh, right,” she said. “Olaf, hurry it up. I’ve already reached my death quota for the day.”
“We just killed the first few of us and are beginning rezzes now,” Olaf said in group chat. “I’m going to have to drop this group so I can be in the same group as them for coordination. As soon as the battle looks won, I will break off and see if I can find s
omething that will let you all out.”
Whatever magic or mundane method allowed the crowd to be heard by us so clearly, also allowed us to hear the battle above. Unfortunately, it was so chaotic and noisy that we couldn’t tell much more than that it wasn’t a complete failure. It probably would’ve helped if we’d known some of our new allies better, so we could’ve told the differences between their voices and those of our enemies.
“Sixty second,” Dumbus said. “Five and nine . . . Five and eight—"
“Stop that, moron. I can’t hear what’s was going on.” Marknafian slapped Dumbus in the back of the head.
Dumbus stopped talking but continued to mouth the countdown.
“Fifty-seven,” Alizia said. “Ninety-three . . . Forty-two . . .”
Fortunately, a door appeared behind Alizia before Marknafian could make it to her. Her curiosity overwhelmed her desire to continue the annoying countdown, and she stopped to see who or what was on the other side of the slowly opening door.
The door revealed a smirking dirt elf, though only Marknafian had had the presence of mind to summon his weapon. (I did feel better later, when I realized he probably only had it out to use on Alizia). The dirt elf spread his hands to form a wall of fire bigger than all four of us.
“Runs away. Orcs be allergic to burning to death.” Dumbus hopped off his mount toward a second door that’d appeared behind us.
“Stop, you idiot,” Marknafian said. “If you hit the ground, we’re both dead. This stupid joust is still going—”
Dumbus’s feet hit the ground and he stared at it. “Dumbus forget.”
Alizia grabbed me and pulled me off my mount. “Sucks to be them, but I don’t think even my awesome tanking can protect you from that campfire of doom.”
As we neared the second door, I glanced back. The wall of fire hadn’t moved, but Dumbus and Marknafian had. They were right behind us and still alive. The door finally slammed open to reveal the gaping mouth of a very large beast.
“Gah. Forest giant allergic to being eaten to death,” Alizia said as she swung me back around.
The wall of fire faded, and the dirt elf beckoned us toward him with a pudgy finger.
Alizia grinned as she summoned her scepter and shield. “That’s not a taunt. I’ll give you a taunt. I Shout at you.”
“That not very good taunt,” Dumbus said as he ran after her. “But me like you still. Fault and all.”
The dirt elf panicked and ran away. “Wait. Alizia, it is me.”
Don’t You Point That Shovel at Me!
I had to turn on Sprint to catch up to Alizia down the narrow hallway. As hard as I had to push myself, it took me about five tries to find something both loud and intelligible enough to get her attention. The only good part was that she hadn’t opened any of the numerous doors we passed.
“Alizia, stop. That’s not a dirt elf. It’s Olaf,” I said.
“That not gnome,” Dumbus said. “Much too tall. Lacking baldness of male-pattern variety.”
“What do you take me for? An idiot?” Alizia asked.
No one responded.
“Jerks. And I know it’s Olaf,” she said. “How dare he try to scare me with my least favorite substance. I’m gonna rub that mustache right off him as soon as I figure out where he’s hiding it in that illusion.”
“Try below nose. Above mouth,” Dumbus said. “That where me keep mustache when in police academy.”
The dirt elf illusion faded from Olaf, though Alizia continued to chase him in a circle. Our two new possible allies got bored and moved down the long hallway. Eventually, I managed to corral my friend’s mad chase to at least move forward. Dumbus and Marknafian were gone.
“Gotcha, you little twerp.” Alizia dove to tackle him, but Olaf activated Sneak and she missed.
I invited Olaf back to the group.
“Thank you,” he said in group chat. “And I was not trying to frighten you two, I was trying to frighten the orc and pixie away, so you could make your escape with me. Regrettably, I forgot I wasn’t in your group anymore when I explained that in group chat.”
Alizia dusted herself off and shook her fist at a random spot. “I still owe you a noogie. Nobody frightens me but me. Where did you get the illusion, by the way, and can I have one? I’ll even promise not to use it when I wake you up in the morning.”
“You promised not to wake us up in the morning at all,” I said in group chat. “You’re not using this as a way to get out of that.”
Alizia giggled.
“One of my groupmates gave me a disguise kit to get past the dirt elves,” Olaf said. “We knew the fight would take more than two minutes, so they sent me to open the door to get you all out.”
“As much as I want to know more about these disguise kits, I’m more concerned with what’s behind there.” Alizia pointed toward a large door covered with demonic faces and eyes that seemed to subtly follow us as we moved. The door ominously slid open.
“We should wait for the bishop and the other former chess pieces,” I said. “Remember, this is a level twenty-fiveish dungeon.”
“After being trapped for days, sometimes weeks, as chess pieces, their intent is to find the exit,” Olaf said. “One or two of them even expressed interest in leaving the game entirely and suing Pyrite for psychological damages.”
“Well, then I guess we should get back to our goal and see what our new friends uncovered,” I said. “Olaf could you—”
“I am already inside,” he said in group chat. “The room is full of pentagrams, alchemical supplies, sacrificial daggers, and demonic sculptures. There’s a pool of blood at the far end and sitting on the steps in front of it is a huge, brown-skinned man with a massive shovel on his back. He seems to be weeping, and our two friends are consoling him.”
“A crying boss?” Alizia asked. “This I gotta see.” She was almost through the door before she abruptly stopped and looked at me. I motioned for her to continue and she went in.
As soon as we entered, the nine-foot-tall ogre pushed back his unruly mess of curly, gray hair and looked up. A few seconds later, he bent his head back down and resumed his weeping. Dumbus spared him a few soothing words, but it only made him cry more. Figuring he was well distracted, I risked using Inspect on him.
The Mad Shoveler
Level: 25
Resists
Type: Sub-Boss
Light: ???
Race: Ogre
Dark: ???
Faction: none
Earth: ???
HP: 3,500/3,500
Water: ???
MP: 0
Fire: ???
AP: ???
Wind: ???
AC: 150
Special Attributes: Crush Stone, Create Passage
Weaknesses: none
Alizia casually walked up to the platform. “All right, Sargent Dumbus, what’s the situation here?”
“Shovel Guy sad. Dumbus try to cheer up with inspirational message of hope and s’mores. Dumbus fail.” The orc frowned and stared at his feet.
“The imbecile opened that infernal door to ‘see if dungeon gift shop have something can give pretty green lady,’ and once inside we found this fella moping about for Jesus knows what reason,” Marknafian said. “Odd thing is he’s supposed to be the main boss of this dungeon, not the sub-boss.”
“Hmm, I see.” Alizia pretended to flip an invisible note pad. “And who is this alleged sub-boss you were expecting to see here? Pre-emptive follow-up, how do you know who’s supposed to be here?”
Marknafian rolled his eyes at her and sighed. “D’Lorqa Ab’Derananian, The High Priest of Shzzzabelb. And I did my research before we came near this place, in case we accidentally meandered in due to a certain group mate’s penchant for doing just that.” He glared at Dumbus.
“Research. Interesting.” Alizia stared at me and crossed her arms. “Would be nice if we had someone who was in charge of that.”
I ignored her and looked at Marknafia
n. “I thought dungeons were dynamic. The one we were in before changed both style and bosses at around a month.”
Marknafian rolled his eyes. “Only a small number are like that. It was a feature they tried out a decade ago that never really caught on, so they mostly abandoned it. This place hasn’t changed in twenty years, until now.” He pointed at the inconsolable Mad Shoveler.
“Did you try asking him why he’s here?” I asked. “His unusual demeanor might explain why he’s the sub-boss now.”
“Was just about to.” Marknafian fluttered below the ogre’s drooped face and waved his hands. “Hey, fella. What’s the deal? Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else?”
“He demoted meeeeeee
Dumbus wiped a tear from his eye. “Much sad. Sorry for loss. Recession hit everyone. We go. Need alone time. How we get to new guy?”
The Mad Shoveler continued weeping for another minute. I was about to repeat the question when he suddenly cleared his voice and looked up.
“There’s a stairway underneath the pool of blood. The blood will drain away to make it appear when I want to go down to try to visit my old room. It’ll also appear if you manage to defeat D’Lorqa, or probably me, now that this is my room.”
“Can you make it appear for us?” Alizia fluttered her eyelashes at him.
