"As I told you on the way here, I don't want you to kill it." I say, eyes narrowed as I look across the beaten down street from my place within the alleyway, eyes locked on both the flaming point of exclamation, along with the metal surface it's housed upon.
Carrie-Anne the crow who stands alongside me casts a confused side-eye in my direction. "Just to be clear, we're talking about a door, right?"
I nod in response. "Yeah. And please, be careful."
FrontDoor might not exactly be the most polite entity I've ever met, but that doesn't warrant a death sentence. In the end, they're ultimately just doing their duty... even if their duty happens to be particularly backwards. What good are doors, really? They compartmentalize the world and its people. We'd all be so much better off without them! No, no, that's genocidal thinking unworthy of a noble paladin. No matter how much I might disagree with the way that they live their lives, if anything this journey has taught me that there are more more valid ways of living than just my own. I am in no position to judge.
The crow at my side simply shrugs and swiftly flies over to the knob, gripping it with her taloned feet, seemingly working a series of small and elaborate metal tools with her beak.
-How dare you! Face me, you coward!
"I have nothing to prove to you." I say as I step out from the alleyway. "There are people inside who need my help, and I cannot allow you to stand in my way."
"Um... who are you talking to?" The bird asks over her shoulder. I don't answer, my eyes still locked on that broad metal frame.
-Don't think that you've won! You won't escape me next time...
Those final words fade into complete silence as the door swings open with a metallic click. An open door is no longer an obstacle, after all. It might as well not even exist, and lacks any power to hinder you. I can't help sigh with relief. I was honestly a little worried for Carrie, having sent her out alone to deal with that villain, but it's clear that she is quite skilled, and more than capable of taking care of herself.
Well, FrontDoor, or Neo-FrontDoor as they have apparently taken to call themselves doesn't matter. What's important is what lies beyond them, within the small darkened structure ahead. I waste no time in rushing across the street, warily looking to the opened metal door as I pass, just in case they had a few tricks left up their sleeve, but pass by unmolested.
I find myself standing within a human home. It's nowhere close to as large or as nice as my master's, but the basic elements are still there. There is a filthy metal stove, a filthy, unmade bed and... well, a lot of generally filthy things, to the extent that the filth itself could be considered its own thing, as there is certainly more of it than there is furniture.
"There, you got inside. Are you happy now?" Vile asks, riding atop the back of Slave.
I shake my head. "No. The quest isn't finished yet. The waypoint is right here, but I can't tell what I'm supposed to find."
The structure isn't all that large, and there certainly aren't any missing children visible within it. There is another door set on the far wall, but I can only imagine that if my destination was through there that there would be another quest marker atop it. I can tell that the quest wasn't mistaken, either. Even through the dust and garbage, I can clearly detect human scents, and a multitude of them at that.
"Wait, stop!" The crow calls to me as my nose leads me towards the corner of the dank, windowless room, to the right of the main entrance.
"What? What is it?" I ask, and that's when I see it: A small square wooden panel set within the floor, with a rusted handle atop it. I barely stop myself from rushing forward to examine it when I remember Carrie-Anne's warning.
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The black bird floats over to it, hopping about the sealed opening on her thin, black clawed feet, studying it closely. "A trap door." she muses, eyes locked on a thin, barely visible wire running across the wooden surface. "And a trapped one, at that."
"Well, yeah... of course it's trapped. It says so right in the name!" Slave says.
"No, despite the name, most of them are neither trapped nor intended to be traps." her rat rider replies, "They can be designed to be hidden and drop people who stop on it, but even standard non-hidden trap doors still share the same name."
I frown a little. Despite the ominous name, it hasn't attacked us and doesn't seem too dangerous. Still, it's difficult for me to trust any sort of door at this point, much less one with 'trap' in their name. Carrie takes out her mysterious and elaborate tools once more, and with a audible twang as the wire is snapped under tension, she smiles, taking the handle in her feet, and with some exertion lifts it up and out of the way.
Quest completed! Squire gained 3200 Experience Point(s)! 750 Gold(s)!
I fully intend to run inside, even if it might be unsafe, but am stopped dead by the intense scent wafting from the underground chamber. It doesn't delay me for long, only a few seconds, during which my three allies are all standing around the now wide-open passage, staring inside.
"Um... Squire?" Slave says just as I begin to rush over to her side, "You should probably stay over there."
"What? Why?" I ask, tail wagging excitedly, "I want to see!"
"No." Slave replies simply. "You really, really don't."
That's when I really take in the scent. The scent which flowed throughout this entire city, but this is clearly among the primary focal points. The smell of rot. Not the sort that comes from spoiled meats or vegetables, either. Instead, it represents the decay of something far, far more precious.
It's at this moment that the far door swings open and the dark room, only partially lit from the opened front door is now flooded with light. Beyond it I can see a walled in yard, a series of raised horizontal wooden poles from which dried meat hangs. Frighteningly familiar smelling meat, the sort which I've never tasted, of course, nor ever seen so ripped from the bone. Standing between us and newly cut flesh, however, is a man. I think. The basic elements are of course there, the arms, the legs, the body, the clothing and even the scent. It's just the eyes that are all wrong. They're glassy, almost but not quite empty, yet what remains within then can hardly be considered human, and barely qualifies as bestial.
He wears little across his broad frame, just a filthy and bloodstained apron which is worn ragged, along with some brown pants which clearly hadn't been washed for quite some time. Far more significantly, however, is the large, rusted clever which he holds at his side. Or at least he did at first. As I meet his damaged gaze, it comes down towards me with remarkable speed. I squeeze my eyes shut, purely on reflex, only opening them once more as I hear a sudden clang, and feel that my own flesh is, somehow, uncut.
A small black cat stands between myself and the human, the blade of the tool settled between her ears. The faintest trickle of blood leaks down into her golden eye, but it's little more than a scratch in response to what would have been, to most creatures, a mortal blow. Her aura burns with an unsettlingly familiar red energy which threatens to consume the feline as she glares intently at the man towering above her.
"Don't even think about it!" Vile growls to the cat, and all at once the red energies fall away. Slave's defiant posture remains, however. "What are you doing?"
"We can't let him get away with this..." The cat growls between gritted fangs, as she claws at the bare arm of the man, inflicting even less damage that I would have expected to her opponent.
The rat just looks confused for a moment, clearly contemplating her options before she finally smiles her broken smile and raises her paws, arcs of electrical energy dancing between them. "Fine." she says, "I never liked running away from a fight, anyways."
Carrie similarly stares at the man, only with a wicked grin rather than an angry glare, clearly ready to fight.
The only one who doesn't take on a battle stance is me. How could I, after all?
---
Vile: "At last we reach the intense boss battle against... some guy."
Carrie-Anne: "It does feel a little bit anti-climactic, doesn't it?"
Slave: "I don't mind. Humans in general are a lot bigger than we are, this one especially."
Squire: "What are you all talking about That's a human! We can't fight him!"
Slave: "The boss music clearly disagrees with you."