Dungeon of the Old Gods: A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG

by Wolfe Locke

  God of Adventure

  “I am the God of Adventure. I am Lachesis. Mine is the way of courage. Of the brave, and of the bold. Those who offer me their blood will be granted a portion of my essence to guide them. I no longer have the power to do more.

  *Should you bond with the God of Adventure, you will continue to receive guidance from.

  Lachesis doesn’t have any power. I still need to heal myself, and he did offer me the quest. Seonna seems to offer the only way to make that happen without giving up my humanity. I am sorry Lachesis. I cannot choose you.

  John moved toward the broken statue of Seonna and cut open his palm and curled his hand into a fist. When the blood dropped on the stones, it disappeared instantly absorbed. Little by little the statue reassembled, though it still looked rough in comparison to the other statues. John expected the knife and the altar to disappear but it did not.

 

  Thank you for your offering. Without your blood I would have soon passed beyond the veil of this world into the dark nether of Pandemonium.

  Let us quickly be gone from this cursed place.

  *You have bonded with the Goddess Seonna. Your body is currently being repaired by her essence.

  But what of Lachesis? The broken statues will die. I have to help him after he’s guided me this far. John approached the other statue and saw that his palm had already healed. No matter. Just another cut.

  He drew the blade across his palm and blood spilled onto the floor. Just as before, the blood rapidly disappeared when it touched the stones. The statue of the God of Adventure rapidly reassembled. Good. It worked.

 

  Thank you John. I am sorry I have little to offer you. My power has been drained from me by the god who lays below. A dread power that binds us here. I fear that even this offering is too late.

  Before the others protest, let us be gone. There is danger here.

  *You have bonded with the God Lachesis.

  John felt eyes boring into him. A dark and malicious aura of fury filled the room, and John knew himself to be in trouble. He turned to run but found a withered vine had wrapped around his ankles. The vine trailed back to the statue of the God of the Forest, though his statue, and that of all the others were no longer mere stone. They had become animated.

  A roar broke out as a giant stone hand smashed into Lachesis’ newly renewed statue while another did the same to Seonna’s. All the while a dark viscous substance spread out from the statue of the God of the Deep and began to cover them all, while the other gods turned their attention to the petty and impatient.

  Oh my god, what’s happening?

 

  Run John. You cannot save us from this. The covenant is broken.

  Chapter 23: He Who Makes A Beast of Himself

  * * *

  The vines around his legs pulled him in. The voices of Seonna and Lachesis were no longer able to reach him. A sort of dreamlike state came over him as the statue of the Goddess of Temperance and the God of Order exploded into dust as the rampage continued.

  The remaining statues all wanted the same thing. The one thing they could not take without his permission. His blood. All around him voices clamored and shouted each other down as each said some version or another of “Choose Me.”

  All because I chose more than one.. “Monsters. Not gods at all.” John muttered as he strained and put his hands against his ears to quell the sound. Useless. It’s all in my mind.

  He stood silently, facing the remaining pantheon. John’s racing thoughts were quieted a bit as the haze clouding his thoughts grew worse. The vine? Is it drugging me?

  The voices didn’t stop. Free us all. A little blood is all we require. Telling him, commanding him to submit. Help us.

  “Yes,” he agreed absentmindedly. “I can help you.”

  The words sounded hollow. What am I even saying? John clenched his fists against his head and screamed. “No. No. No. I chose. I chose Seonna. I chose Lachesis. My choice. It was mine to choose.”

  The frustration he was feeling welled up within him. He felt the dagger still in his hands and raised it in threat against the gods and laughed at the futility of the situation. The choice never mattered. Is this the true face of Macabre then? Was I not told all of them are liars? Why not these supposed gods as well.

 

  You always have a choice, John, and to each choice there is a consequence. Such is the way in the world above as it is below.

  You may choose not to choose, and that in itself is a choice.

  Whatever path you choose I will always be with you.

  See them as they truly are, not as they appear to be

  Do what you think is right. But see them for what they are.

  John felt a sense of reassurance as the words of the radiant presence washed over him. Some of the haze he had been feeling fell away. He closed his eyes and closed off his mind from the intrusions of the gods. John focused on the words of the radiant presence. In a determined voice he announced, “The choice is mine.”

  When John opened his eyes, the statues were no longer in front of him instead they had been replaced by their true forms. Monstrous visages and horrors alike. These are no gods at all.

  Where the statue of the Goddess of the Dead had been now stood a woman in a brittle looking white dress. But that was the resemblance to a woman ended. Where a face should have been was instead empty holes and twisted pieces of sinew that somehow kept the bones beneath it together. Thin strands of wispy white hair fall down in clumps. As he stared on in horror, the monster growled at him but didn’t move in his direction, her attention fixated on the widening black tar that was spreading through the room.

  All of them are monsters, he realized as he looked at the rest. Well not all of them he thought as he looked upon the broken remnants of the Goddess of Temperance. Where her statue had been, was instead the broken body of a young girl in modest dress with a band of flowers on her head. Blood flowed freely from multiple wounds and John knew instinctively that she was dead.

  Elsewhere, the God of Warriors and the God of Order lay dead in similar positions. Gold and silver armor lined with dents and punctures. What a waste. Why though? Why were they here at all with these monsters? As for Seonna and Lachesis, John saw nothing. Perhaps because I’ve bonded with them? Maybe they no longer exist here.

  A growl disturbed him. John looked over at the other supposed gods. First at the God of the Hearth, and where before he had seen merely grey stone, he now saw hanging rolls of fat and stretched skin with a face-stained red from wine. Just like the Gluttonous King. That’s what awaited me if I had chosen him.

  “You have more blood. Choose me as well. I offer what the others cannot. Answers.” Shouted a strangely female voice. John turned to look. He saw webs spread out in all directions, webs that hummed with unfamiliar energy. I’ve never liked spiders. “I said no. My decision was final.”

  “Let go of me.” John demanded, feeling the pull of the vines on his legs. He turned to their master, the God of the Forest and saw brambles and green leaves that vaguely resembled the body of a man. But most disturbing was the foul and fetid smell coming from the vines.

  It’s a carrion feeder. John realized as brambles and the flowers bloomed. But worst of all, John saw a human face looking out at him from within the petals and he moved back in revulsion. The spell was broken. John brought the dagger down and cut himself free.

  The vine whipped back, but not before striking out at him. A few drops of blood dropped to the ground, quickly absorbed by the black tar that had spread. John paid it no mind. He was focused solely on how to get away from the monsters.

  Behind him the door remained barred. The way out seemed shut. A horrid idea sprang to life in his mind. Better to die a man then whatever they would choose for me. John held the knife to his throat, ready to end it.

 

  I am the God of the Deep. I am known as Nemes
is. I accept the offering of blood. I will still grant you a portion of my power. A fraction of my essence to repair your body and strengthen it. You will remain mostly human.

  But I didn’t offer you my blood. The choice was mine, and I chose Lachesis and Seonna.

 

  Yet I accepted. The blood that dripped from your face was sufficient. The cost of breaking the ancient covenant falls on another.

  John looked over at the God of the Forest as the monster fell to the ground and frantically begged for forgiveness. But from whom? The room glowed with golden light

 

  The one who lays below. The radiant one, Aeon. A true god. I have laid a trap for the others so they cannot follow. We will escape.

  Before John could even respond, some of the black tar like substance grabbed at him and pulled him away as the golden light exploded. The last sound he heard was the screaming of monsters and the howls of rage coming from the man in rags. Followed by blissful silence as he passed out.

  Chapter 24: Allies. The Mage, the Healer, and the Rogue

  * * *

  John Younger woke up just outside the Church of the Twelve. What happened? What was that light?

 

  Lachesis - Aeon has claimed the pantheon. It was inevitable.

  Seonna - Ever since the young prince found his way to the lowest floor.

  Nemesis - Human notions can be corrupting. Notions of morality have driven Aeon mad.

  The radiant voice, then? What is it? These three tell me that was Aeon, and they dare to call Aeon mad?

  John felt furious. He got up off the ground and grabbed a hold of the iron knocker and tried to pull the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. The knocker itself was hot to the touch, as if a great fire had burned inside.

  He doubled and tripled his efforts without exerting himself. Then and only then did John realize he no longer felt the lingering pain of his injuries from his time within the dungeon. A drop hit the ground and John saw it hit the stone and splatter in a dark black circle. It happened twice more. That’s me. He raised a hand and found only a thin crust of drying blood under his nose.

  John remembered the actual form of the monsters that had made up the pantheon. Did they drop me off here? Or did Mieruel move me? Mieruel… the name lodged free of another memory. Lumiere

 

  Lachesis – It was Nemesis who saved you from what was coming. Though that foul monster had his own reasons for doing so.

  Nemesis – Survival is as good a reason as any other. There will always be another time to feed so long as I can live.

  Seonna – They are all gone, aren’t they? Mieruel must be pleased he can return to his master.

  So what now? John asked as he leaned against the door and looked out on the city of Macabre.

 

  Nemesis – You have the blessings of three gods, and my No Men will no longer attack you.

  It seemed strange; he had barely seen any of it on his frantic run to the church, but now at least the No Men weren’t attacking him. John had time to look at the dark city.

  The city itself was a ruin of black and grey stone buildings. Every single one was at least partially collapsed in on themselves. Green and dark slime pooled in stagnant waters that ran on the shattered walkways that doubled as roads. Above head, stalactites dripped water.

  John saw the No Men had retreated into their corners and darkened alleyways to watch and wait for the next person. The next exhausted and injured adventurer. Briefly, he felt a moment of tension until one of the No Man caught him looking and gave him a wide, broken, and rotted smile and nodded his head before turning back to his post. Well. at least they aren’t attacking me anymore.

  He flexed, fleeing the new strength that moved through his body, tempering his muscles. He wasn’t sure just how much stronger he had become, but he felt at least 2 to 3 times stronger than he had before. He felt powerful. Though how much more power he truly had was unknown, all that he knew was that a compulsion seemed to drive him downward in a way that the voices had before.

 

  Nemesis – You are called, just as we are called. The only way out is through the true master of this dungeon.

  Seonna – Your body has been healed by my essence and further strengthened by the essence of Nemesis within you.

  Lachesis – My power was exhausted. I had nothing further I could give you.

  “Why me?” John asked, seeking answers. “Why is any of this happening? Why was I taken here?”

 

  Nemesis – *Cruel Laughter* Ah. They haven’t told you yet. I did not chose you, though I would have chosen anymore. You’re dead John.

  Seonna – It’s more complicated than that.

  Nemesis – No, John. It’s not. These two were on the brink of death, and death for immortals does not come quickly or easily. They sent out pleas to their followers for sacrifices, for warriors and adventurers to brave the dungeon. And here you are.

  John didn’t want to ask anymore more questions, and the voices offered no more answers. I’ll need to find out more myself.. He walked away, and as he did, the No Men nodded at him as he walked by, treating him as if he was one of them.

  A brief howl of terror went out, louder than any John had heard before, followed by screaming as if somebody was in danger. I need to help them. John started running and realized the yelling was coming from the stairway that led from the floor above. With the changes in his body, he could effortlessly sprint the total distance without even getting winded.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he saw a battle mage, the sigil of his class emblazoned upon his grey armor, attended by a damaged healer whose robes were marked with blood and an elven rogue with an arm dangling uselessly at his side while he held a sword in the other. A No Man lay dead at their feet, and a group of No Men had circled around them, getting ready to attack.

  John did what he could. “Help’s coming! I’m with the Guild. John Younger. I’m here on the Regent’s quest.” He yelled as he battered through the No Men, hoping none of them turned hostile as he barreled through them.

  The trio seemed relieved that John had identified himself and was coming to their aid. “Oh, thank gods it’s you, John. It’s been one hellish challenge after another.” The battle mage aimed his spells at the No Men, allowing John to get through. The relief quickly turned to horror as John’s body began to change as soon as he got closer. Changing against his will.

  His mouth elongated into a hideous maw that salivated and impulsively tried to bite out at the trio. His arms grew long, talon like daggers extending out of his hands. John struggled to move his hands, but it was useless. As if in defiance of him, his arm split open down the middle, revealing a set of teeth sharper then razors, teeth that were meant to bite, sever, and kill.

  His eyes grew white and milky as his vision shifted to see the humans differently. Run. he tried to mumble, but all that came out were growls.

 

  Nemesis – Just give in John. These humans are prey. Not one of them is god blessed.

  Seonna – Fight the instinct, John. You are better than this.

  Lachesis –If you do this you cannot come back from it John. Fight.

  I can't. It's too much. The battle mage attacked first. With a yell of "Monster," he attacked John with a swing of his enchanted sword. The battle mage died first, and John did what he could to make the part of him that was still human small enough to not have to watch as his body rampaged against his will.

  Sometime later, John came back to his senses. His body having returned to a more human form. He felt sick and ashamed, but more than that he felt… satisfied, and that further fueled his shame. I killed them, didn't I?

  He walked, and eventually he came across an open door to a building well-lit with Eldritch torches.

  "You're one of us now, boy." Shouted a vo
ice from behind the counter. "You may as well come in and trade, get warmed up, and drink something to get rid of the taste in your mouth.”

  John stepped inside, and saw it appeared to be a tavern of sorts, very similar to that of the Bloodied Hog. "What is this place? I'm trying to find a way further down, but I seem to have lost my way.”

  The figure behind the counter came into the light, revealing itself as a rotted corpse in the shredded uniform of a soldier from some ancient kingdom. The monster laughed. "You lost your way? Ha. We all lost our way. All the roads lead to hell of some sort or another. There's no up or down here. There's only sideways. They call me Grimes. I belong to my lady of death, and this establishment belongs to me. Now tell me, how badly do you want to go down? And are you sure you really want to?”