Corona had a headache. She’d been up late last night, just talking to anyone that would spare her a moment of conversation. Then she’d slept poorly, thinking of Tristan standing there like a statue beside the lever that would open the lock on the dungeon’s seal. He apparently intended not to sleep until the event was over and it was safe to re-open the door.
She had made a report to him that night after interviewing the family of Tavi the Goblin Thief, but neither of them had known fully what to make of it. Narani and the others had all noticed odd things about Tavi when they’d last seen her, but none of it was anything that couldn’t be explained by massive head trauma. Importantly none of what she’d said or done had really matched up to what the Travelers had experienced so far, other than that she was hit by one of the soul gems that Tristan believed they had all come from.
Tavi had also claimed to speak to Valera, who of course had been present in the intro sequence and as a host in the Assembly of the Gods. She had guided all the Travelers through character creation but wasn’t terribly impressive. Corona would have thought that if the girl had been there, she surely would have mentioned seeing all the gods, not just one, and not just that one.
Tavi had appeared to be suffering from amnesia upon waking up but had remembered parts of conversations that had taken place in the past. She had also claimed to be remembering more all the time. If she was a Traveler, then that didn’t make any sense.
Corona had checked in with some of the others, and none of them had inherited memories from the Astrans they had replaced. She’d also thought to have them check their logs, but again found nothing that was from before they had arrived. Some of them had even talked enough that their logs had been cut off.
That all meant that if Tavi was a Traveler, she was a very strange one that was somehow inhabiting the body of the person she’d been intended to replace. Either that, or one of the natives had managed to take the place of a Traveler somehow. Tristan thought it was more likely that something else had happened to Tavi that was intended to be disguised by the arrival of the Travelers.
“It’s like a damn horror movie,” Corona said under her breath. “We’ve got pod people and body snatchers running around, and fuck if I’m not one of them.”
Wernst paused to give her a quizzical expression, then resumed eating lunch. Bravic never so much as looked up.
All three of them were in the prison mess hall. Since the event was ongoing all prisoners were confined to their cells for the duration and meals were being brought to them. Corona had requisitioned the two guardsmen since they were the only ones she knew, and the three of them had been running their own investigation. So far, it hadn’t turned up much of anything.
The problem was, Corona was at best a researcher, not an investigator, and this wasn’t even her world. All her normal tools were light years away, and now she didn’t know how to proceed. She poked at her plate of mystery meat and mashed veggies, annoyed that she couldn’t even so much as identify what she was eating.
Across the table, Bravic finished eating and rose to deliver his plate back to the kitchen. When he sat back down, she was looking at him with an expression that made the stoic man pause. “Guardsman Bravic, it occurs to me that you probably have a lot of experience looking into crimes in this city. Is that correct?” she asked him.
“Yes ma’am,” he said, infuriatingly.
“Please tell me, what is it that you think we should do next in our investigation? What angle am I missing?”
Bravic didn’t even hesitate to think about it. “I don’t think it really matters what you’re missing, ma’am. With all due respect, you barely even know what’s going on here. What matters is what the Arbiter is missing.”
Corona’s eye twitched, but she remained calm. “And if you had to speculate, what is it that Tristan is missing?”
This time Bravic appeared to give it some thought. “It seems to me like the dungeon event is too obvious to be what The Adversary is planning. We have procedures in place to deal with them. That door in there isn’t even the only safeguard. This whole building is meant to keep anything from the dungeon from getting out.”
“So, if not the event, what else might The Adversary be planning?” she asked him, feeling like she was reeling in a particularly stubborn fish.
Bravic thought about it again. “The Arbiter seems convinced that Tavi’s involved. If he’s correct, then perhaps the event is supposed to keep anyone from going in after her. I don’t know what she could do in there other than beat the dungeon…” He trailed off, frowning.
“What is it?” Corona asked, getting excited. The man had obviously just thought of something.
“It occurred to me that sometimes when you beat a dungeon you don’t come out where you started. Nobody’s ever beaten this dungeon though, so we don’t know where they’d end up. The thing is, that the dungeon is a replica of this city, just upside-down, and we believe that the boss is probably in the ducal keep. It makes me wonder if they might end up exiting into the real keep.”
Wernst let out a guffaw and slapped the table. “That’d be rich. Run through the whole dungeon just to end up in the Duke’s throne room. He could congratulate them personally before sending them back here.”
Bravic nodded. “Normally I’d say that if there was any one place you didn’t want to end up, it’d be the keep, but they do have Wyse with them.”
Wernst sobered up fast at that thought. “You’re right. Wyse would do anything to catch the Duke off guard like that.”
Corona pushed back from the table, leaving her plate. “We have to tell Tristan.” she said, making her way to the door.
Tristan still stood where she’d left him, looking for all the world like he’d only been standing there for a few minutes. Corona quickly recapped Bravic’s speculation, watching as the gears began to turn once more in Tristan’s head. Eventually he nodded but didn’t step away from the lever.
“I need you to go warn the Duke of this possibility. I can believe that Arven would be involved with this matter for a chance to confront the Duke, but a simple assassination cannot be what The Adversary has planned. It might be Arven’s payment, but it’s not the end goal. The Duke is the only other person in Altria besides myself that could stand up to him in a fair fight, so if he knows what’s coming he should be able to deal with it, especially with his wizard to aid him,” Tristan told her.
“You’re going to stay here?” she asked.
“Yes, I can’t discount the possibility that this is meant to pull me away from my post. The Adversary likes to show that you are weak where you should be strong, and this place should be the strongest in all of Altria. The Duke can secure his keep, and I will ensure that nothing makes it in or out of here. Now go, we can’t afford to be too late.”
***
Corona couldn’t believe it.
The three of them had practically run all the way to the keep, but for the past hour she’d been waiting in the entry hall with a bunch of merchants and nobles waiting to see the Duke. The Arbiter’s badge had impressed exactly no one, and she couldn’t help but feel like the assembled rich assholes in the room were laughing at her. Wernst had excused himself and gone off to alert the guards, but Bravic had stuck with her.
“Xander, am I doing something wrong here?” she asked.
Guardsman Bravic didn’t seem to realize she was addressing him at first, “Ma’am?”
“Yes, Xander?”
“Is there a reason you’re using my given name, ma’am?” he asked, his tone still as disinterested as always.
“I’ve decided to refer to you as Xander until you stop referring to me as ‘ma’am,’ guardsman,” she explained.
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Bravic processed this, a very tiny frown alighting on his face for just a moment. “I see. I don’t believe you are doing anything wrong, Adjunct. This is how the court works.”
There was a small, polite cough behind her, and Corona turned to see the sallow face of William Strumald standing there, looking pleased. “A pleasure to see you Adjunct. I had been hoping to hear if the Arbiter had made any headway on my investigation.”
Corona had to repress a shudder at seeing this man after hearing Wernst talk about him. If the guard was right he had intentionally allowed an incredibly expensive item to be stolen as bait, purely so that he could witness the pain it would cause when his tracking spell inevitably identified the thief.
Whatever else this Tavi character might be guilty of, she was glad that the girl had somehow managed to foil his plans for her to an extent. Still, as much as it sickened her, she would need to handle him diplomatically if she didn’t want to make the situation worse.
“He has, actually. We took statements from both your guards confirming your account, and Tristan was on his way to question the thieves when a dungeon event began. Both thieves are inside the dungeon, but Tristan believes they may be involved with The Adversary’s plot.”
Seeing a way she might use this man to her advantage, she continued. “That’s why I’m here actually. The thieves are in the dungeon with a priestess of The Adversary and Arven Wyse, and we believe that they may have a way to escape the dungeon and enter the keep. I’ve been trying to get an audience with the Duke to warn him, but the bureaucracy is getting in the way.”
Strumald’s eyebrows rose very slightly, and a thin smile carved itself out of his face. “This does seem like something my cousin should be made aware of with all haste. Let me see what I can do.”
Corona watched the man walk off, entering one of the side rooms after speaking briefly with a guard. Maybe that would finally get her somewhere. She’d already told this to the seneschal when she’d first arrived, but it hadn’t seemed to have an impact on the man. There did seem to be more guards about now though, so perhaps Wernst had succeeded in his task.
The man in question rejoined them a moment later. “The guard is on high alert, expecting a possible threat from within. Not a one of them can stop Wyse if he’s at full strength but he’s been in prison for years, so I doubt he will be even if he’s managed to break his curse.”
“He’s cursed?” Corona asked.
Before either guard could respond the Duke’s seneschal reappeared at the top of the grand staircase. “Adjunct Corona, the Duke will see you now.” he announced.
That was fast, but she supposed that nepotism was a universal constant.
Corona and her escort were taken through the central hallway and into the Duke’s throne room. Inside, the man himself sat on the titular chair, looking bored. Off to one side stood William, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Adjunct Corona, the Traveler; Guardsman Arnold Wernst, and Guardsman Xander Bravic.” Announced the seneschal. The keep was equipped with a spell that revealed the names and titles of anyone entering the throne room to the seneschal but given that Corona didn’t have any real titles she assumed he was allowed to improvise a bit.
“Adjunct, you have something to report I’m told? Something about that fool Wyse coming to kill me?”
Corona took a deep breath, then launched into her explanation. The Duke seemed disinterested at first, then Corona noticed him stiffen when she mentioned Bravic’s theory that the prisoners might appear in the keep should they beat the dungeon. Strangely he seemed to become distracted after that, and she wrapped up her report by informing the Duke of Tristan's belief that any attack on the keep would be tangential to whatever was actually happening.
When she finished, the Duke was quiet for a very long time. Finally he swore, breaking the silence. “Gods damn Licane, he could not have picked a worse time to take a trip to the capital.” The Duke then rose from his chair and began pacing, apparently deep in thought.
Corona glanced over at Bravic, who read the question in her eyes and whispered, “Licane is the court wizard, I didn’t know he was out of the city.”
The Duke suddenly halted, then raised his voice. “Everyone out. Not you Adjunct. Everyone else, out now. You may return when the Adjunct departs.”
Guards and nobles scattered around the room looked at each other in confusion but began heading towards the large doors Corona had just come in through. Wernst and Bravic both hesitated, then withdrew as well. “We’ll be right outside waiting,” Wernst assured her. Bravic just nodded.
A minute later she was alone in the room with the Duke, who had sat back in his chair with an air of impatience as he waited for everyone to file out. As soon as the doors were shut Corona noticed that all the sound of people murmuring and moving was cut off as neatly as if it didn’t exist. She intuited that there must be some spell on this room keeping noise from entering or escaping when it was sealed.
“Adjunct, I need you to deliver a message to Arbiter Tristan, and say nothing of it to anyone else. It may be that nothing comes of all this, and if so you will never speak of it again except to me or him, and never in the company of others. Do you understand?” the Duke's dark eyes bore into her as he spoke.
“I… I believe I do, yes. What is your message?” she asked.
“Simply this. I do not believe Wyse and his compatriots will emerge from the dungeon in or near my keep. I believe they will emerge in the wreckage of Astraea’s Cathedral, on the second floor of the crypt, at the base of my great grandfather’s tomb. They may in fact have already done so,” he said.
“Why would they exit the dungeon there?” she asked, forgetting for a moment that this man was likely not used to being questioned.
The Duke pondered his response for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I suspect Tristan will ask that as well, and may not be moved by less than the truth… Very well, tell him that there is and always has been a second entrance to Altria’s dungeon located there. It was sealed long ago, but it is likely the true entrance of the dungeon.”
The Duke sneered, glancing at one of the doors the nobility had just left though. “My… cousin, you are familiar with. His side of the family left Altria many years ago… If my son… It doesn’t matter. His great grandfather was responsible for the creation of the dungeon, and they left Altria in shame after his execution.
“By design or by chance, the dungeon was connected to two places. My ancestor’s tomb, and the place where it was made in secret, a basement below the inn our family built here at Altria’s founding. That basement is now beneath our prison, and Duke Talcion’s desecrated tomb was sealed with powerful enchantments.
“If the dungeon is defeated, I suspect the victors will exit there, and it is likely that the protections in place there will not work for that sort of exit, or an outside agent may have already disabled them.”
“I understand, sir,” Corona said. “To be clear, you’re not worried about this Wyse fellow showing up here then?”
The Duke laughed a mirthless and hollow laugh, then shook his head. “Adjunct, the last time I saw Arven Wyse I had him cursed and thrown in the blackest pit I could find for killing my only son. Shortly thereafter, my wife took her own life.”
“Not a day passes that I do not pray he escapes and comes for me. Only then will I have MY justice, the Law be damned.” The Duke sighed, slumping in his chair, seeming almost burnt out. “The irony does not escape me, but no. I am not worried about Wyse coming here. If he does, I will deal with it. Personally.”
The Duke gestured for her to go, but as she turned away he said, “Oh, and tell Tristan that the other entrance is known to be generally safe from the effects of a dungeon event. It’s a pity Licane isn’t here. If he was, I’d have him attune the Arbiter to Wyse’s instance and send him in after them. Having Tristan kill Wyse would be nearly as good as doing it myself. Alas.”
Corona shuddered at the look in the man’s eyes. It was a cold hatred, and disturbingly it reminded her of Tristan for reasons she couldn’t quite place.
***
“How much longer?” Cassara demanded.
“That depends on how long you intend to keep bothering me.” her partner responded. “At least another hour. Custom daemonics isn’t exactly an easy task, you realize. If you rush it, you end up with a daemon that falls apart the first time you ask it to do something even slightly outside its normal parameters.”
Cassara growled and resumed her pacing, double checking that Nemesis was where she’d left it. She was starting to wonder if she’d made a mistake bonding with the item. Her plan to sleep in the Exchange was working, but the thing always seemed to show back up sooner than she expected, and sometimes from directions she swore she hadn’t sent it in. It was making her sleep fitful and prone to being interrupted. Even though she’d rested she now felt more tired than she had the previous day, and that was making her irritable.
To his credit, her partner had been hard at work. He’d barely slept himself but claimed not to need much. She’d seen him drink some sort of potion on occasion and assumed it was helping him stay awake and focused. The entire time he had been steadily producing more and more papers full of diagrams, arcane symbols, and sometimes just plain writing.
He’d found an old chalkboard with faded prices and specials on it and wiped it clean. On it, he’d drawn lines in a strange pattern, and used a skill to adhere small bits of paper with words on them to it. He would occasionally move papers from one part of the board to another, muttering to himself as he did so.
His papers had also spread themselves out over the floor in all directions, slowly reducing her available area for pacing to barely a meter long strip in the corner opposite where she’d placed Nemesis. The man would step carefully around the room, examining papers he’d placed there hours before and shaking his head in disgust before stripping the ink off them with magic and re-writing his malgorithms upon them. Cassara often couldn’t even figure out what he’d changed, but then she had never been good at demonology, and this man was clearly a master.
“Go get some rest,” the man told her, without looking up. “We’ll need you to be in top form when I finish, and you look exhausted.”
She ground her teeth but couldn’t disagree. She was so tired, and it had only been a little over a day in Altria’s timeline, even if it had been longer for her. Annoyed, she pulled out her token and prepared to enter the Exchange. At least she could take a moment to torment that useless sister of hers. That had proven to be a remarkably good way to blow off some steam.