While all the chaos of Fort Bone continued with the arrival of new residents, the SkyPatrol fairies' antics, and the auction preparations, Atlas saw an opportunity to take action elsewhere. Slipping out of Fort Bone unnoticed, he assembled a team of twenty seasoned Portal Crushers, including Isabella, and set their sights on claiming the Ghoul Dungeon. They had previously found this dungeon when Alexander had done their decoy ray on Cell Block 21.
The entrance to the dungeon loomed ahead, ominous and dark. The group tensed as they spotted a cluster of dead bodies littering the area. These weren’t just any corpses, though. One had a single arm, its bones brittle and cracked. Another was clad in the tattered remnants of a shirt that read, “If you don’t look like this, YOU are the illegal,” with an image of a Native American on it.
Atlas smirked at the sight. “Looks like these were the remains of those Earth’s Children who refused to follow my ‘fascist’ rules,” he muttered under his breath. He couldn’t help but think, ‘Idiots. The wasteland is unforgiving, and that’s a lesson they learned the hard way.‘
Once inside, the group was immediately confronted by the dungeon’s horrors. The ghouls they encountered were terrifying, reanimated bodies of the dead that lashed out with a savage hunger.
Each step deeper into the dungeon was met with resistance, the ghouls growing in number and ferocity. The battle was intense, with the Portal Crushers taking heavy hits. Blood spilled, and weapons clashed against undead flesh, but the ghouls kept coming.
“Will we be infected and turn into zombies?” asked Isabella.
“No, these fuckers won’t turn you, but they will give you corpse poison. That stuff is deadly if not treated,” Atlas said.
“So, I’m not going to be wandering around asking for brains because I got bitten?” Wilfredo asked.
“I saw antidotes to that in the MediPod,” said Barbara.
Corpse Poison Antidote (3 coins): Bitten by the undead? Cure the poison in your head!‘
Their journey through the dungeon was marked by Atlas’s usual confidence. “Always go right to make sure you don’t go wrong,” he quipped every time they hit a twisty turn, his words met with groans from the veterans and chuckles from the newer recruits.
Atlas fought at the forefront, his weapon slashing through the undead with practiced ease, but even he wasn’t immune to the dungeon’s dangers. He noticed the fatigue setting in on his team, saw the bloodstains soaking through their makeshift bandages, and couldn’t ignore the increasing frequency of desperate cries for healing.
‘The MediPod bill is going to be huge,‘ Atlas thought grimly as he blocked a ghoul’s clawed hand with his sword.
The Portal Crushers fought fiercely, but it didn’t take long to see the problem—their gear wasn’t up to the task. The ghouls were relentless, tearing into their armor like it was made of paper. Plates were ripped away, exposing flesh and leaving deep wounds that should’ve been protected.
“Damn it, they’re getting through!” Barbara cursed, pressing her back against Isabella as she fought to keep the swarming ghouls off her. As a medic, her focus wasn’t fighting, but in a situation like this, everyone had to pull their weight.
Atlas swung his swords with brutal force, cleaving through the chest of a ghoul that had been too close for comfort. I’ve got to get better gear for everyone, he thought, anger building up as his team was being shredded. His own armor was holding—barely—but it wouldn’t last much longer at this rate.
“YEEHAW!” Alexander’s battle cry cut through the chaos as he delivered a crushing blow to a ghoul’s skull, its body hitting the ground with a sickening thud. But even he wasn’t looking as confident as usual. “They just keep comin’!”
“We can do this!” Isabella yelled, slicing through another ghoul with a fluid motion. She moved like a storm, her swords dancing in deadly arcs, but even she couldn’t be everywhere at once. Her arms were tiring, and a deep gash on her leg slowed her down.
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Barbara was doing her best to stay out of direct combat, focusing on keeping everyone patched up. “Stay still for a sec!” she shouted, pulling Alexander close just long enough to slap a bandage on his arm, which was already dripping with blood. “You’re not dying today!”
Hank barreled through a cluster of ghouls, his brute strength scattering bodies left and right. He was a wrecking ball, but even he was taking hits, his armor dented and torn. “Ain’t no quittin’ now!” he growled, throwing a ghoul into the wall with enough force to crack stone.
Atlas scanned the room, his mind racing. We’ve gotta push through, he realized, frustration boiling over. He swung his sword again, sending another ghoul flying.
Isabella grunted in pain as a ghoul managed to get past her guard, its claws slashing across her side. She twisted, taking it down with a well-aimed strike. “We’re gonna need a new plan after this!” she called out, breathing hard.
Barbara was already on it, tossing a healing salve her way. “Catch!” Isabella grabbed it, applying it quickly before diving back into the fray.
“Enough of this!” Atlas roared, his voice booming over the din. With a massive swing, he plowed through a final cluster of ghouls, the bodies dropping like ragdolls.
And then, there was just one left. The final ghoul, standing between them and the victory.
Wang Bo stepped forward, fury in his eyes. “Dragon pierces the heavens!” With a single, crushing blow, his staff caught the creature in the head, black blood spraying across the floor.
The room went silent. For now, they had won. But as Atlas looked around at his battered team, the weight of their injuries and broken gear hit him hard. This can’t happen again.
“We need new armor,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. And we need it soon.
‘‘‘
After what felt like an eternity, the last ghoul had fallen, and the group stood victorious, but battered.
“Looks like there isn’t a boss in here,” said Isabella.
“Cell Block 21 has already cleared it once. So the boss is gone. We are just dealing with the mobs that have been spawning,” Atlas responded.
“Right on!!” Wilfredo cheered, “That was one hell of a fight.”
“Fuck yeah,” agreed Stu as he drank from a bottle of water.
“Let’s link this bitch!”
“How many coins in the chest?” asked Isabella.
“About 450,” Atlas said.
“Nice,” said Wilfredo.
“I’ll split it up like regular hunting for percentages.”
The dungeon linking went smoothly, especially because of the bonus to speed that Atlas had.
“Keep an eye out for anybody trying to gank us while I do this,” Atlas said.
“Got it.”
‘‘Dungeon Link Successful‘‘
The dungeon was theirs, but the cost was high. Their armour was in shreds, and many of them had sustained injuries that would take time and resources to heal.
They gathered the remains of the ghouls they had killed. The bodies of the ghouls were harvested mainly for their claws, as the bodies themselves were unusable. After that, the team headed back to Fort Bone. There, the wounded were treated, the MediPods buzzing with activity as they repaired torn flesh and broken bones. Tons of corpse poison antidotes were purchased for future use.
‘Oof, the costs are indeed huge,‘ thought Atlas.
‘‘‘
Then he headed to the Wasted Tavern. Atlas, despite his own exhaustion, stood in front of his team, a beer in hand. The tavern was loud, filled with the relieved chatter of the Portal Crushers who had made it back alive again,
“It was a tough fight,” Atlas began, his voice carrying over the noise. He raised his mug in a toast. “But you all did it. And nobody lost an arm!”
One of the newer recruits, still nursing a bandaged leg, looked up, puzzled. “What? Why did you say that?”
Atlas grinned, mischief in his eyes. “Well, let me sing you the ballad of John the Amputee…”
---
Laughter erupted in the tavern as Atlas launched into the song, his voice loud and playful. The veteran members joined in, their voices blending in a raucous chorus. The tale of John, the unfortunate Portal Crusher who had once lost an arm in battle, had become a staple of their victories—a reminder that things could always be worse.
As the song echoed through the tavern, the doors swung open, and John himself walked in, Lark on his arm. He paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing as he realized what was happening. The tavern fell into a hushed silence, the only sound being the soft plucking of a lute in the corner.
“This is ridiculous,” John muttered, rolling his eyes as he turned on his heel and walked back out, Lark laughing quietly beside him.
The tavern burst into laughter once more, the song picking up where it left off, louder and more boisterous than before. Despite the bruises, the bloodshed, and the battered armour, the mood was light, filled with the camaraderie that had carried them through the darkest parts of the dungeon.
Atlas took a long sip of his beer, feeling the burn of the alcohol mix with the satisfaction of another hard-fought victory. They had claimed the Ghoul Dungeon, and while the battles had been brutal, they had survived, and they had done it together. But even as the celebration continued around him, Atlas’s mind was already turning to the next challenge, the next battle, and the ever-present need to keep his team strong and ready for whatever the Wasteland Apocalypse threw at them next.
Tomorrow, he’d start working on getting that new armour, but tonight, they’d celebrate. After all, they had earned quite a bit with the new dungeon linking.