“One of the key tenets of dungeon diving is having a good team behind you. That is because no matter how good or extraordinary you are, at some point or another, something will trip you up. Be it a trap, a tough monster, or even just forgetting some supplies. That’s why the guild recommends at minimum eight people for a baseline expedition into a dungeon. Two teams of three act as the frontline, and the last two people guard belongings, hold onto important items, and perform a more supportive role instead. “
- An Adventurer's Guide to Common Tasks, “Chapter 15: Dungeons!”
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Pain blurred her vision as she pushed forward, the frostbolt slamming into her armour and just barely failed to pierce. Fuck! Shit, focus, be professional. Pain later. Driven by instinct, rage and adrenaline, Sophie leapt forward and engaged the targets. Four dazed looking figures stared up at some strange floating red orb, but they barely reacted and she discounted them as combatants for now. What was more concerning was a robed cultist who had shot the frostbolt at her and the lizardfolk that stood next to them. The two reacted with alarm and hostility at her entrance and she rushed directly at them. Seeing the lizard raise his hand, Sophie quickly pivoted to the right and dodged the incoming attack, the spell impacting the ground beside her and singeing the floor.
“I-Intruder.” The cultist managed to stammer out, “S-stop them!”
“Fassst, kill.” The lizardman clicked his mouth as he readied another spell.
At their command, the four dazed looking people awkwardly flailed their arms in Sophie’s general direction, shambling over much like the undead even if their complexion and form suggested that they were still human. She used them as shields and ducked behind one as the lizardman fired. The manoeuvre worked and one was eliminated by a frostbolt through the chest, the person jolting from the blow and seemingly returned to consciousness, dropping to the ground silently before letting out guttural agonising screams.
Sophie ignored them and shoved two of the dazed ones aside, launching a rapid attack against the two cultists. With her almost in blade range, the man panicked and tried to reach for his blade meaning that he would be distracted for just a second longer. Thus, as she closed the distance, she let her senses guide her blow and cut deep into the lizardman’s scaly body. Uncertain of the effectiveness of her blow, she pulled her blade back and thrusted. The soft squelching of flesh being penetrated and the surprised gurgle was more than enough. Ripping it back out she had just enough time to notice the eye that had rolled past her before she had to block the cultist’s frantic attacks.
The man was evidently unsuited to melee combat and it showed. He had no plan behind his attack and his strikes were wild, imprecise and desperate. Blocking a few of them, Sophie backed off slightly and looked for an opening. Perhaps, also sensing the mismatch in abilities, the man tried to back off and that was when she struck. A clean blow that saw the blade cut a clean gash across his neck. He staggered a little from the impact, his brain failing to comprehend what had happened. Sophie took the opportunity granted by his confusion to follow up with a finishing blow. She brought the blade back around for a slash across his face and he practically stood in place from shock before he crumpled. His jaw barely hung on by a thread when he thudded to the ground, trying to spew some no longer comprehensible noises in his death rattle.
Turning away from him, she found the three remaining dazed assailants still closing in. She hurriedly backed away to make some distance when she realized that she had forgotten about the strange orb. Sparing a quick glance at it, she was caught off guard by how enrapturing the sight was. Above a square pedestal was the orb, floating in mid air. Around it and snaking up from the floor below upwards were four wispy lines of blood that seemed to defy gravity and rise up to support the orb. They did not move or drip and appeared almost completely suspended by some supernatural force. After another half second however, she felt her head start to pound with noise and it looked almost as if the orb was staring into her soul. Caught in a mild panic, she ran forward and bashed the orb with her elbow. The blow enough to know it out of place and hurtling towards the ground where it is shattered into a thousand pieces.
Almost at once the time seemed to flow in opposite directions. The blood trails lost all consistency and fell back down to the ground, painting the pedestal and room with a fresh new liquid coating. The dazed individuals however, all began to scream loudly, clutching at their heads as they all writhed in place. Their screams grew louder and louder until there was only silence. The one who had been hit by the bolt, at least, seemed to be conscious and whimpered in pain. Sophie hurried over and flipped them around to find the person looking back up at her in confusion.
“W-w…what…. happened? What happened?” She mumbled up at Sophie.
“Easy, easy. You’re hurt pretty bad. Just… umm… just give me a quick second to think.” Sophie answered.
No longer feeling a sense of immediate danger. Sophie felt her mind calming down slightly, her eyes blinking away the tension of battle. She still had a crisis on her hand however, and couldn’t bring herself to relax. She then started searching around the room for anything that could help, finding nothing but barren stone walls and the bodies that now littered the area. She settled for cutting off the cloth from the cultists, almost gagging at the mangled state that she had left their faces in. Walking back, she nearly hurled as the soft pop of the lizard man’s eyebrow met its end under her unsuspecting food. Sophie fought against the disgust that was slowly building and worked as fast as she could, setting down all the cloth she could before she flashed the survivor a worried look.
“I’m gonna pull it out.” She announced, “On three, okay? One-hng!”
She yanked almost immediately and the survivor let out a shrill squeal, recoiling violently in pain at the unexpected removal. But knowing that she was running on a limited time frame, she straddled the survivor and held her own as she bandaged the large gash on their back. Hoping that they wouldn’t simply die from an infection, she tucked some lighter pieces of fabric into the wound before wrapping longer strips around them. Every second mattered as more blood poured through. By the end of it, her hands were now covered in red due to her poor attempt at bandaging the wound.
“Thank you.” The survivor said with a whimper, “Who…” Her voice trailed off, her consciousness still faltering.
“Easy, easy. I got you.” Sophie reassured her, “I just need to know what the hells happened here.”
“Hells… here.” The survivor groaned.
“I… nevermind. All I need to know is are there more of them? The cultists.” Sophie frowned, they seem fairly out of it. I wonder if that’s the result of the magic
“Cult-ists?” The survivor looked up in surprise before some slight hint of recognition dawned upon. “More… four…” They grimaced.
“That’s enough. Four cultists?”
The survivor weakly pointed towards the pedestal.
“Four… of the orbs?”
A pained nod. Well, damn. That might be a problem.
“Alright, alright. Just rest now, you took a pretty bad hit. Here, give me a quick moment.” Sophie stood up and went over to one of the formerly convulsing fallen, dropping down to check their pulse.
To her horror, it was faint, almost as if it was close to disappearing. With a bad feeling in her gut, she hurriedly checked the other two to find the same result. Sophie poked and prodded, trying to rouse them with no success, their life signs only growing fainter with each passing moment. Her gaze turned back to the fragments of the orb and survivor. Just what the hells is this magic thing? Pushing away her despair, she touched one of the orb’s fragments, her fingers just barely brushing it and her eyes closing in anticipation. Nothing happened. The fragment was a little cold to the touch but nothing happened. Relieved and disappointed in equal measure, she turned her attention to the next big problem. If the fallen were still alive, she’d have to somehow evacuate them alongside the survivor. Which just doing that alone might be problematic given the distance she explored before she even stumbled into this room.
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They met her concerned gaze with a dazed look, almost like they still could barely process everything that had happened. Sophie considered her options, finding all of them equally displeasing. She could leave the survivors here, take them with her, or guide them back to the camp. Leaving them amongst the bodies of her comrades felt cruel but at least there won’t be a concern of excess blood loss during movement. Taking them along was just risky and a detriment. Bringing them back to camp seemed the wisest and most time consuming, but Sophie could feel herself running out of time. The screams and shouts of pain earlier likely carried far into the rest of the ruin, if not that then the sudden shattering of the orb. But the cult needed to pay and she was but one person.
A dark expression snuck onto her face as she remembered her victory from two weeks prior. Sacrifice to achieve the objective and ensure success. With a heavy sigh, she pulled the fallen but not dead towards the survivor and propped them up near them. The survivor looked at her questioningly and she had to swallow her guilt before she could bring herself to speak.
“They’re barely breathing but alive. So I’ll come back for you guys, okay? I’m gonna put a stop to whatever the hells is going on. Here,” Sophie handed over her water canteen, “It’s all I’ve got. Oh, and this.” She also pulled out a packet of rations.
The survivor seemed confused but too tired to complain, the pain clearly still dulling their mind. Probably for the best, Sophie mused, hopefully she’ll be fine.
“Why… go…?” The survivor managed to utter.
Sophie winced at the question but just pointed at the orb, “I… I’m here alone. There’s nothing else I can do. I have to make sure they don’t sacrifice anyone else.”
“Sac… sacrifice? Sacrifice?” The survivor’s eyes blinked as a revelation dawned upon her face, “Sacrifice? Ugh… Dan… where’s Dan? Goddess… everyone…” They started babbling out random names.
A pulse of something dark emanating from elsewhere in the ruins and Sophie reluctant stood up. “I’ll be back. Promise.” She half heartedly tried to reassure them.
Lost in a crazed babble, they seemed to have completely lost all sense of their surroundings and didn’t even spare a glance at Sophie as she gingerly tried to shuffle away. Nothing I can do, there’s nothing else I can do. She tried to convince herself. Reaching the doorway, she spared one last glance behind her before dashing out into the hallway, hoping that some distance would settle her guilt ridden mind. Three more orbs, the cult, possible survivors. Need to be quick. Sorry.
She left the room and continued blazing a path through the ruins, ducking into different corridors and hallways. On some levels she was thankful that the entire place wasn’t a tribute to the horrors of the cult, that many of the rooms were just dusty ruins. She ended up stumbling across what was likely a former armoury, the Myndiri evidently having built in armour stands using the very environment itself. She admired this small display of culture and was only mildly disappointed that there weren’t, in fact, old Myndriri arms and armours still left within the room.
Taking into account the small size of the potential armoury, the ritual rooms and more, Sophie came to the conclusion that this ruins was a religious site of sorts. Though why the Myndiri carved it into the side of a mountain baffled her, but there was no one left to ask. What didn’t make sense however, was how there were more stairs heading downwards. She had already pushed through about what felt like half an hour of exploration already and just knew that she had barely scratched the surface. Just how big is this damn place? How much time do I have left? How will I even find the other cultists? This place is massive!
A little more panicked than before, she forced herself to close her eyes and sit down. She tried to still her breath and to focus on her surroundings. She used her senses to reach out into her surroundings, hoping that some sounds or signs would present themselves. At first, nothing turned up and she could feel that faint trace of frustration bubbling back to the surface. But when she was ready to just jump back into simply running through the ruins, she could feel it, see it almost. A faint lingering trail of some dark and disgusting. Something that the void within both wanted but despised. Is this… mana? Excited, she pulled out the little box and closed her eyes once more, trying to compare what she felt from that with the traces of mana in the air. It was similar but different, darker and more corrupted. Right trail at least.
Spurred on by the new discovery, she tried her best to follow it. Haphazardly ducking in and out of corridors as her amateur detection skills left much to be desired. Her footsteps stilled as she drew closer to a side room. Within the labyrinth maze of hallways and rooms, the distinctive pale blue light guided the way. Here, like in the first orb chamber, there was a red glow that petered out just a little bit beyond the bottom of the doorway. Bingo.
“You heard it too, right?” A trembling voice echoed from within.
Sophie froze at once and stilled every part of her body. Oh no.
“Yes. But their agony is naught besides fuel for the engine. We continue.” A more sultry, dominant one replied.
“But… but they were screaming! Almost as if-”
“Silence. That there may be an intruder, you are correct. But the Gods have spoken. Our tasks must be accomplished.” The female voice snapped.
There was a barely perceptible whimper from the first voice and Sophie tried to clean closer against the doorway, hoping to catch any other details that could help her beyond faulty mana detection. A dull humming came from the voices and she felt a burst of mana wash over her coming from the room.
Darkness seized her soul and she felt fear battering her very senses. Despair, terror, and horror danced on the edges of her mind and she felt her stomach churn with concern. Her hand trembled slightly and she could feel the doubts creeping back to the surface. I… I … I’ve… She grit her teeth and forced her doubts away. Not now, not now. Focus, Sophie, focus.
“...Arantos!” The feminine voice screamed.
Almost instantaneously, Sophie felt her blood boil. Though she couldn’t understand the other incomprehensible gibberish that the cultist sprouted, she could understand that. Buoyed on by a wave of rage that overtook her, she wasted no time in trying to make entry, trying to push the door open only to feel a tiny bit of resistance.
“What was that?” The man asked.
Lost in her own mind, she reared back and charged the door. Her left shoulder almost shattered from the heavy impact as she smashed her body against the stonework. But time had made the stone brittle. She crashed through the doorway and wasted no time in the attack. Before the cultists had time to react, she had already thrown herself towards the center of the room. With another of the strange orbs blocking the cultists line of sight towards her, she managed to get in range to tackle the pedestal. She felt the wind get knocked out of her as the air left her lungs, her fragile form thrown back after smashing into the marble pedestal. Just like before, the orb was shaken free and tumbled loose, crashing into the ground and shattering into a hundred pieces.
“Nooo!” The female cultist screeched.
“Sh-she, she broke it?!” The man questioned.
Sophie rolled back onto her feet and scrambled recklessly forward, her sword brandishing menacingly beside her.
“You’ll pay for that!” The woman shouted and charged forward with a dagger.
Sophie’s rage and instincts took over once more. Before the woman could even reach her with the dagger, she simply lunged forward with a quick stab and the contest was one. Her own momentum had carried her own stomach onto Sophie’s sword. Pulling it out, Sophie then rushed forward and smashed the side of the woman’s head with her pommel, shoving her out of the way.
Terrified, the man shuffled backwards and fell onto his back, his arms raised pathetically to try and defend herself. Sensing the slight decrease in hostilities and now hearing the screams of two dazed people behind her, Sophie pointed her blade at the man and simply waited.
“Talk. What’s going on here?” Sophie demanded.
“Y-you, you killed her! You killed- ahh, h-how could you?!” The man panicked as she pressed the blade against him.
“Where are the others?”
“W-wha?”
“Where are the others?” Sophie growled.
“They… they’re further inside. Lower levels.” His voice shook, “What are you even, an adventurer? How are you even here?”
“Does it matter?” Sophie clicked her tongue.
“You whore! Lord Arantos will smite you down you-hng?!” The man gurgled as Sophie pushed her blade through his throat.
His eyes widened at the betrayal and for a brief moment, Sophie felt a little bit of dark satisfaction at the reversal of events. These people had betrayed their own comrades in the first expedition, it felt right that this was how he should perish. He evidently was incensed at the promise of peace and life being so suddenly taken away, his expression turning into one filled with hatred as she removed the sword from his neck. He gurgled something intelligible and Sophie just waited until his expression turned to fear. The realization that he was going to die now clear upon his face.
Satisfied by her handiwork, she turned away from the dying cultist and simply left the scene of battle behind. She headed back out in the hallway and furrowed her brows. Lower levels… stars above. Why do I think that whatever caused the rumbling earlier is somehow related to the cult? With a sigh, she continued to suppress her emotions and pushed onwards. Two down, two to go.