Dungeon Dive

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Dungeon Dive Page 15

by Rohan M Vider


  Talia has cast leap of faith (buff: winged, duration: 7 minutes).

  Talia is winged (can perform a single leap up to 90m).

  Her divine shield collapsed but with her body protected by the boon blessed, it made little difference. She flexed her newly-formed divine wings and leapt. In a single bound she escaped the surrounding minotaurs, covering the distance to the ones that assaulted the party in an eyeblink. She landed on bended knee behind the hobbled creatures and leapt again, this time without the divine impetus of a leap of faith.

  Airborne and with her sword outstretched, Talia spun through the air. Once. Twice. And on the third spin she cleaved through the armoured bull-neck of the first hobbled minotaur, who was unaware of the menace at his back.

  Talia has killed a minotaur knight with a vital strike.

  She landed lightly and, without missing a step, slid forward to engage the second creature, who only then realised something was amiss. He limped around, too slowly. Judgement—unopposed—swept down in an arc of fire and sawed through bone, armour, and flesh.

  Talia has killed a minotaur knight with a vital strike.

  She paused momentarily to assess the battle. Of the two remaining behemoths, one harried Galian, while the other pounded on Elias. Behind the elder elf, was an unmoving form. Obscured by the ranger and his opponent, she could not tell who it was. Lera probably. While Galian bled more profusely, he appeared to be faring better than Elias who looked to be in imminent danger of collapsing.

  Twenty seconds remaining until debuff.

  Talia stepped over the corpse at her feet, and leapt at the third minotaur, the one who battered down on Elias. This one, however, was ready. He turned aside her thrust—barely. His eyes widened, betraying his surprise at the unexpected strength of her blow. The elaborate decorations of his armour marked him as the minotaur squad’s leader. Flowing into her next strike with the borrowed grace and speed of boon blessed, she slashed down the minotaur’s left side. But the creature’s axe was there again to block her strike. Damn.

  This one was no minor demon. He had to be the floor captain’s lieutenant—a lesser demon at least. No minor demon would have the speed or strength necessary to stop blows struck with boon blessed.

  Fifteen seconds remaining until debuff.

  Behind her, Talia sensed the other minotaurs approaching while out of the corner of her eye, she spied the lieutenant’s companion swing away from Galian and towards her. The lieutenant grunted, seemingly in refusal of his soldier’s aid, and the minotaur returned to battering against the outmatched Galian. Behind the lieutenant, she saw Elias stagger to Galian’s aid.

  Ten seconds remaining until debuff.

  Time was running out. Galian barely hung on. She stepped up the pace and attacked with abandon.

  She cut right. The lieutenant blocked.

  She slashed down. He blocked.

  She thrust at his heart. He turned Judgment away, but not enough this time.

  Her blade slid down his axe and punched a hole under his ribs. Judgement came back wet and cauterised the wound on its way out. The lieutenant grimaced, and involuntarily hunched over, lowering his axe. He straightened almost immediately, but for one crucial moment, his balance was off.

  Talia seized the opportunity. Dancing forward, she slipped through the minotaur’s guard and, shouldering his axe aside, rammed her sword straight through his heart.

  Talia has killed a minotaur knight with a vital strike.

  Three seconds remaining until debuff.

  She whipped her head towards the last minotaur. She was too late. Galian lay still on the ground, while the creature raged against Elias. Noooo. A tortured scream of despair stuck, stillborn in her throat. This was not the time to mourn. Darting forward before her boon expired, she jerked Judgement in and out, straight through the back of Galian’s killer.

  Talia has killed a minotaur knight with a vital strike.

  Talia is no longer boon blessed.

  Talia is boon bereaved (all attributes and essence pools halved, duration: 15 seconds).

  A second later, Talia dropped to her knees as boon blessed expired and boon bereaved afflicted her. A debilitating weakness settled on her body, leaving her with barely enough strength to bear the weight of her armour and Judgement. But even now, she could not rest. The remaining minotaurs approached. “Elias,” she whispered, “protect Aveyad.”

  Fighting against the staggering weight of the armour that pressed down on her, she climbed to her feet and swung around to face the onrushing minotaurs. She stumbled forward as many steps as she could manage before she crashed to her knees again. Then, with bowed head, she summoned a divine shield, and waited.

  As bait for the charging behemoths.

  She prayed that they did not rush beyond her to the unprotected Aveyad. She had done all she could. Now it was up to Aveyad.

  Hurry up, Aveyad, she silently urged. We need you.

  ✽✽✽

  Aveyad had completed his preparations. He had fortified the pathways to his spirit and bared his divine spark to the ether, making of it a beacon and anchor for Eld’s benevolence. Now he waited.

  Not long after, an ethereal ley line cascaded down from Eld, and homed onto his revealed presence. As the conduit neared him, he coaxed it to the spark of divinity at his core where it snapped into place. Tethered by his divine spark on one end and anchored on the other by Eld, the ley line activated, releasing a torrent of golden essence.

  The essence, that was the very fabric of Eld, gushed into his being and set his spirit to soaring with divine euphoria. But Aveyad held to discipline and fought off the temptation to lose himself within the glory of his God.

  With the conduit in place, Eld’s presence returned. Guided by his God, Aveyad separated the strands of overflowing essence and wove them into the construct of a portal to the spirit plane. Forged by more than mortal hands, the strands leapt deftly into the spelled construct of a gateway to Godshome. This was no ordinary portal, this was one for the passage of a deity. It was a minor one, and only an aspect of it, but it was a deity nonetheless. The aspect’s summoning was orders of magnitude more complex than other summoning spells, and only possible with Eld’s guiding presence and gift of divine essence.

  He hurried through the weaves as quickly as he dared, knowing that by now, the party was likely hard-pressed. As the last weave fell into place and the portal sprang to life; he felt Eld’s presence depart. “Good luck, Aveyad,” came the far-off echo of his Master.

  Aveyad has summoned a demigod: a level 43 aspect of Aralax (duration: 8 minutes).

  Aveyad’s eyes sprung open to the sight of four hooved feet stomping impatiently. He looked up to see Aralax, the hammer of justice, clothed in the form of a centaur and wielding an inscripted warhammer blessed with the power of the divine. The hammer alone weighed more than Aveyad. The centaur lord threw him a curt nod then galloped away. Aralax headed towards the minotaurs who were attempting to batter through Talia’s defences.

  At the sound of hooves thundering towards them, the minotaurs stilled. The predators, caught in the presence of a deadlier one, abandoned their attacks against Talia and withdrew. They held their axes uncertainly before them as if in the hope that it would ward off the demigod.

  “Begone, spawns of chaos,” roared Aralax. Heedless of the bared steel pointed his way, he raced towards the smaller minotaurs. Not yet completely routed, the creatures tried to halt the centaur’s charge. But their axes clanged uselessly against the divine’s ironskin. Aralax ploughed into the minotaurs, crushing those in his path and laid about with his hammer at those on his flanks.

  It was too much. He was a foe the minotaurs could not hope to defeat. Minor demons were no match for a demigod. They broke, and as one, fled. Not so easily denied his prey, the centaur lord gave chase, while Aveyad watched the spectacle with bemusement.

  “Took you long enough,” drawled Talia as she limped towards him. She was a sight to behold. Her armour was scratch
ed and torn, her face cut, and her eyes were heavy with pain. It was the most bedraggled he had ever seen her. Something about her demeanour seemed off, and even though her words were lightly spoken, some depth of emotion hid behind them.

  Unsettled by her appearance, he was unaccountably reluctant to broach the subject that most concerned him—the cost of their ‘victory.’ Instead he took refuge in their familiar patterns of conversation and scowled down on her. “I’d like to see you finish an aspect summoning any quicker. I sincerely doubt you—”

  He jerked to a stop when he noticed the still form laid out on the ground beyond Talia. “How badly is he hurt?”

  Talia stared at him with a pained expression.

  Not understanding, he raced towards the injured ranger. Who is it? He slid to a stop and stared uncomprehendingly at the crumpled body. It was Galian. Dead. He looked up, whether to berate or beseech Talia, he did not know. Then another wrapped form drew his attention.

  “Aveyad—” Talia began. He paid her no mind and staggered to the second fallen figure. It was Alok. Dead too. Beside him was a minotaur corpse with two deep gouges through its chest. Talia’s work, he realised. He looked desperately for Elias and Lera. Despair took him as he saw another form laid to rest on the floor.

  He stumbled to its side and let out a shaky breath. The wrapped form was Lera. She was still alive, and in the grip of a deep-healing slumber. Footsteps sounded behind him. It was Elias.

  “Champion,” he greeted Aveyad wearily. “Alok and Galian did all that you asked of them. They held the minotaurs back for as long as they could.”

  Aveyad lowered his head in shame, perceiving recrimination in Elias’ words. If not for his plan, perhaps Alok and Galian would be alive. “I—” He gulped in a tremulous breath, then tried again. “I should have saved them.”

  “You couldn’t have. The odds were stacked against us,” said Elias, kindly.

  Aveyad shook his head in denial. “No, it is my fault they are dead. If only I was faster…”

  Silence greeted him. The old elf knelt next to him and gripped his shoulder insistently for attention. Head bowed, Aveyad refused to look up.

  “If you believe that, Milord, then you are a fool.” Aveyad’s head jerked up as if he had been slapped. He stared at the ranger in shock.

  Elias gazed back steadily at him. “This is war, Champion,” he continued more gently. “In war, mortals die. We mourn them and move on.” He added, more wryly, “Despite what you and your fellow champions may think, you are not Gods. You cannot save us all.” He gestured to the fallen rangers. “Don’t cheapen their deaths by robbing it of meaning. You did not kill them. The demons did. Alok and Galian fought as hard as you and I. For our God and His cause. And for this mission’s success. Respect their sacrifice.”

  Elias stood and looked to Talia, who had come up behind them. Aveyad had not heard her. On top of everything else, he did not want to deal with Talia. She must have heard everything.

  “Milady, what are your orders?” asked Elias.

  In an oddly subdued voice, she said, “We recover the essence crystals from the demons. Then we return to the sanctuary of the entrance chamber with our dead and injured.”

  “Your will, Champion.”

  ✽✽✽

  Ilenmon Dungeon (First Floor)

  Floor captain: Sufalyx.

  Floor minions: 54% remaining.

  Roving bands available: 2.

  Invaders: 4 remaining.

  Sufalyx bared his teeth and hissed in displeasure. Puwroc, the fool, had managed to let both champions escape. What idiocy. Sufalyx did not understand what had possessed his lieutenant to split his forces when one of the champions had already been in his grasp.

  Sufalyx sighed. He should not be too harsh on Puwroc though. Sufalyx himself was still confounded by the idea of two champions. And Puwroc had managed to kill two of the champion’s followers, which meant the whole venture was not a complete loss. It was enough of a success that it would mean Puwroc escaped at least some of the punishment he was destined for.

  Two champions. Sufalyx shook his head. He still did not know what to make of that fact. Both so under levelled too, that they had to summon an aspect to defeat a first floor’s roving band!

  Something strange had to be happening in the world above. There was an urgency to the champions’ dungeon dive that he still could not understand. It was apparent in both the early start of the dive—before the floor had fully spawned—and the unusual party composition. Zarr, Crotana’s king, was a cool and experienced player of the Game. His moves were always deliberate and assured. But this dive reeked of panic. Something must have forced Zarr’s hand.

  How can I make use of this information?

  Sufalyx stroked his chin. He would slow the dungeon party down, he decided. He reviewed the creature moulds he had available.

  Ilenmon Dungeon (Creature moulds)

  Existing standard moulds: Giant mantis (S1), dire wolves (S2), dryads (S3), sprites (S4), treants (S5).

  Existing roving band moulds: Forest hags (R1), minotaur knights (R2).

  Available Free Essence: 40%

  None of the existing creature moulds were suitable for what he had in mind. The best way to slow down the champions would be to force them to deplete their essence. For that, he needed creatures nearly impervious to physical damage, and for good measure immune to mental attacks and air magic. While the treants had done a passable job, they would not be as effective a second time around.

  There was no help for it. He would need to create a new mould. The problem was that there was no single creature that embodied all those traits, at least none that were available on the first floor. He closed his eyes and considered the possibilities. There was one creature that came close to meeting his requirements. It had two of the traits he required, but for Sufalyx to create its mould would use up nearly all his free essence.

  Sufalyx grimaced and once more regretted his earlier, lavish feasting. After he created the mould, he would have barely enough essence to convert his remaining creatures. And he would be forced to duplicate the encounter across the remaining chambers, or use less suitable creatures. But it would slow the champions down.

  They would be forced to rest and recover at least once, he was sure. Or take foolish chances. He chuckled. Then he would have them.

  He would do it, he decided.

  Creation of new creature mould (S6) has commenced (duration: 3 hours, essence cost: 20%).

  Transformation of creatures in Chamber 5 to mould S6 scheduled (starting in: 3 hours, duration: 1 hour, essence cost: 5%).

  Transformation of creatures in Chamber 6 to mould S6 scheduled (starting in: 4 hours, duration: 1 hour, essence cost: 5%).

  Transformation of creatures in Chamber 7 to mould S6 scheduled (starting in: 5 hours, duration: 1 hour, essence cost: 5%).

  Free Essence remaining: 5%.

  ✽✽✽

  An hour later, the remnants of the party were camped in the dungeon’s entrance chamber. They had said their final blessings over the fallen and burned the remains, as there was nowhere in the dungeon to safely bury them. Lera was still in the grip of a healing sleep and had been made comfortable in a sleeping pallet.

  Aveyad, Talia, and Elias sat at the campfire, each lost in their thoughts. Aveyad had fought his first battle. He glanced at the empty spots around the campfire. And he had experienced his first losses. It had not turned out as he had imagined. Instead of the glory and pride he had expected to feel, he was left with loss, grief, and… a furious desire to do better. To not fail. To save all his companions.

  Despite understanding—and even agreeing with—Elias’ earlier sentiments, he could not shake off his sense of responsibility. He was the champion. He should have done better to protect the others.

  “Do you want to turn back?” whispered Talia.

  Talia’s words shook him out of his reverie. So lost had he been in his internal musings that he had not spared a thought for her.
But then she never needed help. She was Talia. Confident and assured. No matter the odds, Talia was fearless.

  He glanced Talia’s way, and opened his mouth to reply. But closed it soundlessly when he caught sight of her. She was almost unrecognisable. Talia was hunched over with her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she rocked back and forth. Despite the warmth of the fire she shivered uncontrollably. She looked… miserable. This was not the Talia he knew. This was not a Talia he knew how to deal with.

  He looked helplessly at Elias, but the ranger resolutely avoided his gaze. The elf looked anywhere except at the champions, making it clear that this was something for Aveyad to deal with. Aveyad looked back at Talia. What had happened? What could have put her in this state? If it was anyone else, he would have said it was guilt—but not with Talia. Never with Talia. She did not feel guilt.

  And besides, it was not her fault. No more than it is mine, he realised with a start. Could that be it? Did guilt consume Talia? She had been their leader and ultimately, responsibility for the battle’s outcome was hers to bear. Or so Armsmaster Sirius had taught them.

  He studied her a second longer. She appeared unaware that he had not answered her question. Her gaze remained locked onto the fire. He got up and walked across the campfire to sit down beside her. “It is not your fault,” he said.

  She turned deadened eyes towards him. They were devoid of her normal fire and filled with despair. “Is it not?” she asked, woodenly. “I was in command. I should have realised that the trap in the Pit Chamber was only part of the ruse. I should have known the floor captain would have held something back to throw at us.”

  “True, you should have,” he agreed. At this, some of her old spark returned to her gaze, heartening Aveyad. The old Talia was still somewhere in there. “You miscalculated, Talia. But so did I. We underestimated the demon captain.”

 

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