Chapter Thirty Six: The Salad Course

Everyone seemed to be shouting at once. People climbed over him, and he felt Warwick being taken out of his numb hands. He felt frozen in place with the shock.

In the next moment, the situation came crashing back. Redda Mo was yelling at him to pick him up. Denton was frantically calling his name as he ducked behind his shield and traded blows with the huge stone golem. Pliesson and Randall were struggling with the weight of Warwick’s armor, and had only dragged him a foot or two away.

“Zuglah, you have to restore him before Gamstone summons him! If he leaves the dungeon, we’re finished!” He heard that. With one hand, he grabbed Warwick by the ankle and pulled him right out of Pliesson’s grasp. He climbed his friend’s body quickly while he fished a bottle of Live, damn you! from his sling. Unceremoniously, he poured it into Warwick’s mouth. It was absorbed so fast that he realized that he could have poured it anywhere.

Just as Warwick’s eyes filled with light, with animation, with awareness, his already opened mouth filled with a rushing wind. He gasped and shook.

A distant chorus, so soft and so faint that he could hardly believe how it took over his awareness. But above and behind and through the walls and the cavern and the strife, in the distance that was no real space except his own fears and doubts, he could see a tiny, perfect being of such utter pureness that his eyes wanted to swear off blinking. He knew that if this being was even an inch closer, She would dominate his entire mind and supplant his every earthly desire. He was struck with awe.

The vision faded, and Warwick was holding out Redda Mo. He smiled at Zuglah and said serenely, “And now you’ve met my Lady.”

They turned and marveled at Denton for a moment. “He sure loves swinging that sword,” Zuglah said. He was in a towering fury, trading blow for blow with the tall stone being. He had carved off most of its opalescent armor by now, and the monster was moving with a pronounced limp. When it swung around to deliver its own blow like a mechanical derrick, Denton stood his ground and batted it away with his crumpled shield. “That arm looks broken,” Zuglah observed.

“Oh yes. Broken in about three places. Shall we?” Together, they joined the others. It wasn’t over quickly, but they had learned how to spread out the monster’s aggression between them. Once the majority of the hard white shell was removed, Denton deemed it safe to use their spells. Zuglah stuck to The Ice Blade and Dancing Mana, because the detonations were effective at removing small pieces of the beast. Randall’s lightning was even better. Soon, they had managed to get the injured leg off, then Warwick did the honors of finishing it off with his maul.

Pliesson and Zuglah collected as much of the opaline dust as they could manage, but it wasn’t much. Still, Pliesson seemed pleased, so Zuglah told him that they should save it for when they made potions with Meegar. Pliesson agreed enthusiastically.

As they crossed the center line of the red and white marble bridge, their perspective suddenly shifted. Denton paused in front of them, needing a moment to restore his balance before moving on. As he crossed the invisible line, Zuglah could see why. Gone was the wide, flat pathway upon which they had battled the Opal creature. Instead, they were standing on the thin, tall spire of marble that spanned the Cauldron like the wrought iron handle of a full sized fireplace cauldron. Zuglah felt like he could sit on his robes, and slide all the way to the bottom.

They shuffled slowly down the steep sided marble, and when one of them or the other could wrest their eyes off of the white veins and blood red stone, they began to realize that Gamstone and the entirety of the beginners class was waiting for them at the bottom. It did not make the descent any easier, but it certainly made them much more self conscious about it.

“Well now,” Gamstone ruminated. “That was an interesting encounter, don’t you think? Pearlgammies are half elemental, and half inanimate objects. Makes them perfect for guarding a door, or a bridge. Nice work, removing the anti-magic armor. And for restoring your Priest. Without him, I would not have let you continue, no matter who was watching.”

This made them all look up, to where the balcony rimmed the entire cauldron. It had seemed very short and straight, from inside, but here it encircled them. Lieber Cant was liberal with the optical illusions, it seemed.

After calling them all adequate, the Dwarf opened another portal and led the students back to the viewing area. Denton gestured onwards with a grin.

There was a narrow, winding stone stairway that led from the end of the Cauldron’s “handle” to a sunken landing fenced in on three sices with wrought iron. There were vines and branches poking through in places, leaves and small, colorful flowers. Zuglah could smell meadowlarks and voles, other creatures. It seemed like the second challenge was of a Nature theme.

Again, their passage was limited, but this time by the stone wall on one side and the iron fence on the other. The path seemed to lead them the entire way around the rim of the Cauldron, only to let them down to the next level only a few feet away. They searched carefully, but could find no hidden entrance to make the path shorter. It seemed that they would have to make their way through the jungle-thick vegetation laid out before them.

When they were looking around for any secret passages of hidden secrets, Zuglah noticed how far back the growth of vines was being kept from the entrance. In fact, the vines on the other side looked a lot thicker, with much longer thorns. They had red veins that ran through both vine and leaf. The near growth of vines had yellow and blue flowers, and no sap leaking from the teeth.

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Pliesson was doing the same calculations in his head. “Hey, Warwick? I don’t like the looks of the vines on that side. Do you have a good poison cure?”

Warwick nodded slowly. “I do, but it won’t help. That’s meatweed.”

Nobody said anything. Zuglah almost turned around on the spot. Meatweed was a venomous, carnivorous plant-like creature that dwelled in the deepest dungeons on Malgros. True, it was considered early business, but in The Tourney. None of them would see The Game or Dungeonworld for at least a decade. For Zuglah, likely much longer.

They turned as a group and contemplated the way forward. The air was heavy with pollen, an ambient glow from the walls and ceiling their only illumination. The gloom was chilling, and the ordinary thorny rose bushes and climbing raspers pushed in from all sides. Ahead, a Plytotroptica Slaast tree loomed, blocking the entire passageway.

Randall looked at the others. “Now what? We can’t get past that.” It was true. Nor could they turn around, unless they were willing to admit defeat. Zuglah didn’t need to even ask.

“We’re going to kill it. Are you up for this?” He directed the last question towards his Cleric. When Warwick nodded grimly, he continued, “Okay. I’ve heard of these, but never fought one. There’s a trick to it. Whatever type of magic we use on it will get used against us. So if we use fire, it will attack us with fire.”

“Easy,” Randall laughed. “So Zuglah and I will sit this one out, Pliesson will continue to be useless, and you can have at it.” Zuglah remembered what he disliked about the loudmouthed Human.

The problem, Denton explained, was that the creature was immune to physical damage until it was smacked with something magic. After that, it was immune to magic until it had been hit with a weapon. Once it had been struck with both, they would be free to hit it at will. “So what type of damage does everyone feel like taking?”

“No lightning.” Zuglah said immediately. He really didn’t like the stuff.

“Everybody says you’re immune to fire, Zuglah. Why don’t you fight it?” Randall suggested blithely.

“We’re all going to fight it. The two of you take turns hitting it with Ice, and Warwick and I will chop it down. It won’t be easy, but it’s pretty straight forward. Any questions?” He didn’t wait for a reply. Drawing his sword, the Fighter strode down the hall until he was just out of reach of the lashing tentacles. He waved his hand in front of his face because of all the pollen. “Let’s not use fire. If this stuff goes up it’ll be an inferno.” They all agreed.

Randall motioned Zuglah to take the lead, so he pulled his Briarthorn knife and cast Ice Blade. It struck the tree high up on its trunk and sank in deep. When the spell detonated, there was no ring of hoarfrost this time, but rather a white rime that stiffened every limb and vine as it traveled outward from the point of impact.

Denton, ever valiant, leapt forward right behind the Ice Blade and struck one of the largest branches a half a moment behind Zuglah’s spell. As the limbs froze themselves, they wrapped around the Human’s legs and chest. And squeezed.

Nobody could help him, not even Warwick. Denton was trapped against the trunk of the tree in a vicious frozen bear hug with teeth that dripped an unknown liquid. “Was that supposed to happen?” Redda Mo asked. Denton was barely visible, with more vines being added every second. As they tightened in place, they froze solid and became part of the ice shell covering most of his body. His face and head was covered beneath his helmet, and his muffled shouts were dwindling.

Well, Dancing Mana wasn’t fire. Zuglah took as tight a reign as he ever had on his mana, and cast it. Three of the silver slugs erupted from his hand, heading straight for the exact vine that Zuglah was targeting. All three of them struck true, but they were not enough to sever even that one limb. Worse, Zuglah could see the damned thing transfer almost all of the damage to Denton.

He looked towards the Cleric, who shook his head frantically. “I can’t help him. Every drop of the Light I send him gets stolen.”

Zuglah and Warwick hacked frantically at the vines with their daggers, but they did almost no damage. Warwick tried hammering on the frozen parts of the tree, but he didn’t dare attack the vines themselves. He’d break Denton’s bones.

“Okay, I know this is going to sound crazy, but why don’t we just light it up?” Everyone turned to stare at Randall. He backed away, hands raised. Perhaps glared would have been more accurate. “I’m not joking around, I swear. I mean, all that pollen? If we both hammer on it as hard as we can, I think we can get it to let him go. Warwick, do you think you can go in there and get him?”

Warwick vowed that he would retrieve their Fighter, no matter what. That was good enough for them.

They backed away until they were completely out of the cloud of pollen, several yards back. Randall looked towards Zuglah and said, “Firebolts, as fast as you can. I’ll light it up as soon as he starts running.” Zuglah nodded.

Warwick took two deep breaths, and with a shout he charged, great maul held above his head in both hands. He dropped it almost half way to his target without looking back. Randall cast his first Firebolt.

The sandy haired Human might have been a jerk, but he could certainly toss the Firebolts. Zuglah couldn’t keep up, but he threw them with as much vigor as he could. It was enough.

As Warwick was barrelling towards the tree creature, Randall’s Firebolt traveled over his right shoulder and struck the Slaast tree, igniting the pollen as it flew. The massive explosion rocked the air all the way back to where Zuglah was standing, throwing spells for all he was worth. Warwick powered through, entering the air newly exploded only moments before with little regard. It was black and smoke-filled, impossible to see or breathe, but he ran on.

The great tree was writhing, all of its leaves blazing. The vines were weaker now, and some broke free to lash out at Warwick as he neared. But finally the great Slaast tree shuddered, releasing Denton to collapse upon the ground. Warwick was there, glowing in a Golden Light that could be seen directly through the plate and mail that he wore. He lifted Denton easily onto his shoulder, turned and ran back the way he had come. He very nearly made it.