The next day dawned bright and early. Too bright and too early, if anyone had asked Clay, but no one really had.

He’d been up early, feeling a bit worn from his lack of a restful sleep. His fatigue had made it a bit difficult for him to get ready and head south towards the baron’s manor, but he supposed it had been worth it to see Olivia.

Of course, he hoped the next time they met, she wouldn’t have to sneak into his house under the cover of darkness. Time would tell.

Syr Katherine and the others were waiting for him outside the baron’s manor. The Baron himself was also there, speaking in low tones with the adventurers. When Clay arrived, Baron Pellsglade smiled broadly and gestured to a pack at his feet.

“Welcome, Sir Clay! I was just telling your companions that I had prepared packages of supplies for you. I also gave you maps of the terrain surrounding Sarlsboro. Charles and the others double checked the information, so you should be able to avoid getting lost.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Clay bowed and then picked up the pack. It weighed a decent amount, but with his newly increased [Might] and [Fortitude], it seemed like he could handle it well enough. He looked at Syr Katherine. “Are we ready to go?”

The [Calculator] nodded. “Yes, Sir Clay. Let us go.” She glanced at the others and then started off on the road heading south. Clay followed along in her wake, with Taylor and Orn stepping along beside him. He noticed that the Armsman was cheerful as he walked along, a massive war hammer slung over one shoulder, while the [Artifactor] was grumbling something under her breath that sounded distinctly unhappy.

Deciding that Master Taylor might need a bit more time to herself, Clay turned to Orn. “So! Did you manage to meet with David?”

Orn smiled, his teeth flashing white against the dark backdrop of his beard. “I did! It was an enlightening conversation. He is a true craftsman, you should know. You and your companions have all been very lucky to have had his handiwork at your disposal.”

Clay nodded. David’s spear and other work had been the main reason he’d survived the Tanglewood, and he had no intention of forgetting that fact. Guild-wrought weapons might be nice, but he had a feeling that a Pellsglade-forged tool was always going to hold its own, no matter the situation. “Absolutely. Did Adam meet with you as well?”

The Armsman blinked. He nodded slowly. “In fact, he did. The man was very… strange, to be honest. He seemed insistent that I would need a fresh pair of boots.” Orn shrugged. “I told him my current pair were fine, but he was rather dogged. In the end, I bought them anyway. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

Clay bit his lip. It sounded like Adam was the same as ever, though he was a little surprised the merchant was willing to try his old tricks with an actual adventurer from Crownsguard. Maybe his rivalry with the new merchant was really making him desperate. He made a note to himself that he needed to visit the old goat, just to see what kind of wares Adam would try to foist on him afterwards.

Taylor looked over at them and sighed. “Well, at least your ambitions were met, Sir Orn. I, however, found myself unable to convince a simple village Rector that my intentions were kind. I don’t suppose you had any more success than I did, Sir Clay?”

The question nearly made Clay wince. He shook his head. “I haven’t had the chance to talk with the Rector, Syr Taylor. I don’t think he’d listen to me either, though.”

“Likely not.” She shook her head. The staff that she carried swung a little with the motion. “Foolish man. As if the gods were going to be persuaded to change their minds just by his bone-headed choices.”

She started to grumble to herself again, and Clay exchanged a knowing look with Orn. The Armsman shrugged elaborately, and then they turned back to the road. There was plenty of travel ahead of them.

The road south was seldom used these days, and for good reason. With the threat of the Dungeon’s Undead crowding the Sarlwood and the lands beyond, attempting to push through the area was as certain a death as could be believed. No one was willing to maintain a road that led straight into the jaws of destruction, and so it wasn’t long before they ran across fallen trees or places where the dirt path had been washed out by storms.

Of course, such blockages didn’t last for long. Orn cleared them away with a contemptuous ease, smashing the rocks to pieces and shoving tree trunks out of their way. Even the washed out portions didn’t offer much resistance; the [Fighter] was more than strong enough to leap the gap with Taylor clinging on for dear life.

Clay didn’t have to suffer that indignity, thanks to the [Chant] of Floating Step. Syr Katherine used the same one to skate across the ruined portions of the road as well, somehow making it look much more graceful than he did.

Syr Katherine led them to abandon the road shortly after the third such gap; by that point, it had become clear that the road was no more viable than forging their way through the undergrowth. Orn took the lead a short while later, his armored form wading through the brush and flattening it for the ones that followed behind.

As the [Fighter] cleared the way, Clay walked beside Syr Katherine. He glanced at her and found her studying their surroundings with interest. A question drifted to the top of his mind. “Syr Katherine, what is our plan here?”

The [Calculator] looked at him. “It is our goal to familiarize you with the way most Guild adventurers handle missions of this type. The Council felt it would be wise, after they reviewed your reports on the Lairs at Rodcliff.”

Clay winced slightly. He had spent several weeks destroying those two Lairs, far more time than the Council had expected him to use. “You mean we’re going to head straight into the Dungeon immediately.”

Syr Katherine nodded. Her eyebrow arched. “That is the case, yes.” She looked around as Orn knocked down a small tree. How were they all making so much noise? “Of course, we’ll need to find a suitable place to establish our camp, first, but once we have, we’ll endeavor to breach the Dungeon and cull some of its strength.”

It sounded straightforward enough. Too straightforward, in fact. “How do we do that?”

Taylor spoke up from behind him. “Have you forgotten our lessons so soon, Sir Clay? How disappointing.”

When Clay gave her a half-hearted glare, she just grinned at him. He sighed. “I know the basic theory. The Dungeons have Guardians, just like Lairs. The more Guardians we kill, the less a Dungeon grows and the fewer monsters they can produce.”

Syr Katherine nodded. “That is correct.”

“So, do we know what kind of monsters we’re facing here? Aside from the Undead levies and corporals, I mean.” It seemed like a fairly straightforward question, but the others simply looked at each other for a moment. “You don’t know?”

“It’s impossible for an adventurer to be familiar with every kind of monster, Sir Clay.” Taylor sounded far less smug now. If anything, her earlier grumpiness had returned. “Especially since such knowledge is only occasionally useful, anyway.”

Clay shook his head. As fragmented and incomplete as it had been, knowing the kinds of spiders, lizards, and slimes he would encounter had been extremely helpful when he was facing a Lair. Why would Dungeons be any less important?

He heard Orn chuckling ahead of him. “Don’t fret, young hero! You have three veteran adventurers to help see you through it. We’ll be fine.”

The [Fighter]’s confidence didn’t really help soothe Clay’s worries. He’d seen too many ambushes by simple monsters nearly kill a supposedly higher-level adventurer; even he had been caught a time or two when he’d been overconfident. Just walking into the Dungeon blind seemed like a great way to end up dead.

Syr Katherine glanced at him. She spoke in a low voice. “Not every adventurer enjoys the luxury of time, Sir Clay. Remember, the resources of the Guild are stretched thin. Every week you spend facing one threat might mean you miss the chance to stop another. After all, why do you think the Guild could only afford to send us with you to this place? Even in our case, we are only to stay here until we accomplish our goal. Then we must return to the Guild, in order to greet and train the next group of adventurers arriving in Crownsguard.”

Clay knew the reasoning was sincere, but he couldn’t help but feel that a little preparation went a long way. He shook his head. “You say that there aren’t enough adventurers, but how many have died fighting this way? How many more would reach levels where they could seal Lairs rather than driving them into hiding, if they went in better prepared? There’s only so long that the Guild can keep fighting this way. Eventually, there will be one disaster too many, and then…”

He shook his head again. Syr Katherine didn’t respond immediately, and when he glanced at her face, she seemed to be thinking. Had she actually agreed with him, or was she just looking for the best way to point out the foolishness in his answers?

Before she responded, however, Taylor spoke up behind him. “Perhaps once we make camp, you can look through your own notes about the Undead in this area. After all, you’ve fought with them before, haven’t you?”

Clay looked back and nodded. “Yeah. They were just rank two monsters, though. Undead corporals leading a small group of undead levies. Nothing we’d probably need to worry about.”

Taylor smiled. “Then I’m sure the rest of the monsters in this area are similar. All the same, we should keep a close watch. No matter what Lord Frensfeld did here, the Dungeon has already had plenty of time to recover—and we’ll be inside its territory all too soon.”

On that matter, Clay felt he could agree. The group lapsed back into silence as they pushed further through the wilderness, heading towards the land of the Undead.

It took another three days to reach a site that Syr Katherine decided they could use as a camp. It was only a simple clearing in the middle of the woods, but the maps put them just a short walk from the destroyed village of Sarlsboro, and she thought it would remain far enough away from the Dungeon to remain mostly safe.

They made camp, which mostly consisted of cooking a brief lunch, and then hiding their supplies. Syr Katherine had them each tie their supply packs to a cord and then hang them over a nearby branch. It was no guarantee that monsters or animals wouldn’t still get it, but at the very least, the supplies would be better protected than they would be on the ground.

As they worked, Clay couldn’t help but worry about the silence around them. There were no animals, just as there hadn’t been in the Tanglewood. The corruption of the Dungeon had swept through this place multiple times over the years; what creatures were they even protecting their supplies from? He was fairly sure that the Undead weren’t going to try to nibble on his travel rations, but he supposed it was better to be safe than sorry.

Once the supplies were secure, the adventurers settled into their equipment and made their final checks. Syr Katherine motioned for Clay to join her. She spoke in a calm voice, her voice cool and prepared. “Sir Clay, this will be your first experience in a Dungeon, so remain close to me and pay attention to my orders. My job is to bring all of us out safely, and also to cull the Dungeon. If we cannot do the first, we will not be able to do the second, and if I have to, I’ll sacrifice the second goal to preserve the first one. Understand?”

Clay nodded, and she continued. “When we enter the Dungeon, there is often an… effect… created by the Curse inside. Be prepared for it to be unpleasant and do not panic. We will not stay there long, and I have planned to take at least a day between entries in order to avoid having it become too severe. If you feel overwhelmed or in danger at any time, you must tell me.”

He nodded again, feeling a creeping sense of dread. Syr Katherine glanced at the others and then checked the hilt of her sword. “Then let’s go. The Dungeon is waiting.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The others nodded, and they set out towards the south, headed through the silent wilderness towards the mission that they had been tasked with since the beginning.

Sarlsboro had always been a place of memories and tragedy for Clay. His father had been born there, as had all the generations of his family as far back as they could remember. The Evergreens had been a Sarlsboro clan, one of the long-standing pillars of the community. They’d served as [Guards], advised the local nobility, and spread through the relationships of the place like roots through the soil. Sam Evergreen had often spoken of the family farm there, and of the network of uncles, aunts, cousins, and other relations that Clay had never known.

When Clay first laid eyes on the place, however, it quickly became clear that he would find no connection there. The entire village was a slowly decaying ruin. Once, it looked to have been two or even three times as large as Pellsglade, even with the newly arrived people. Now, the workshops and merchant houses were nothing but piles of rubble. Farmhouses stood vacant; even the village Shrine had been left a half-burnt shell.

Yet despite the desolation, the most disturbing thing was that none of it was overgrown. There were no creeping vines, no trees springing up in the middle of fields. It wasn’t like his old farm, something being slowly reclaimed by nature and swallowed by weeds and thornbushes. Instead, only grey soil and brown grass of some kind surrounded the abandoned buildings. The occasional trees were black and twisted versions of their natural brethren further north, and not a single leaf decorated their bare branches.

He watched as the brown vegetation waved softly in a breeze that he doubted would ever reach him. A glance backward told him the others had noted the unnatural state of the place, but they were focusing on their own tasks. Quietly rebuking himself, he turned his attention back to their surroundings.

Syr Katherine quickly led them to skirt around the dead village, keeping to the forest rather than stepping into those fields of decay. Clay couldn’t tell whether she was avoiding monsters or trying to bypass some sort of trap, but he had to agree with her that trying to pass through the place seemed… unwise.

As they reached the southern edge of the village, the green trees around them began to wither as well, slowly being replaced by the same blackened branches and brown weeds. Clay tried to step around them when he could. Even brushing up against them felt wrong; the papery feel of the grass whispered as he touched it, and the bark of the trees was glossy and sickeningly smooth. It was hard not to shudder each time it happened.

Then, just as they reached what looked like a road heading south, Clay paused. His ethereal senses began clamoring for his attention, alerting him to something even more unnatural than he’d been experiencing so far. He noted the others had also stopped, looking at him, and he tried to keep his voice low. “Monsters are close. That direction, I think.”

He pointed south and west of their position, at a spot he couldn’t see through the unnatural trees. Syr Katherine peered in that direction and then looked back at him. “Your senses, Sir Clay?”

“Yeah.” He shifted his grip on his spear. Why weren’t they getting into position? “Don’t know how many or what they are, but something is on its way. We should—”

“Sir Orn, guard our flank. We’re going to continue moving, and I don’t want to be interrupted.” Syr Katherine waited until the Armsman had nodded and then turned back to Clay. “If you sense any more, let me know immediately. Especially if they are directly ahead. We cannot afford to be distracted or slowed down.”

Clay stared at her in astonishment. Orn moved out to their left, and then they continued down the road. He couldn’t help but glance back at the monsters he knew were trailing them now. Were they just going to ignore the threat? Doing that in the Tanglewood, or even in Rodcliff, would probably have gotten him killed. What kind of madness had he signed up for?

His senses were growing more and more flooded with enemies as they walked. A second group of monsters was now keeping pace with them to the east, and another was to the south and west again. The original group had swung around to trail after them from the south. Clay was starting to feel like a fox that had put itself right in the middle of some [Noble]’s hunting party, with enemies on all sides.

Each time he pointed out a new threat, however, Syr Katherine simply adjusted their course to avoid it, and continued forward. She had assigned Taylor to watch their eastern flank, at least, and she was keeping a wary eye on the road ahead, but Clay couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t taking things seriously enough. How long was she going to ignore—

His thoughts cut off as three more groups entered his range. All three of them were coming at them from straight ahead, and all of a sudden, they were approaching his companions at speed. “They’re coming. We’re going to be surrounded!”

Syr Katherine simply nodded. “Form a circle. We’ll take them here, and then keep moving.”

The others took up their positions with a clear lack of anxiety. Clay felt himself breathing quicker as he stepped into the circle, with Orn to his left and Syr Katherine on his right. Taylor was behind him, her curious staff held in her hands. What were they doing? It was like they wanted to—

There was movement in the trees, and his thoughts broke off as the Undead arrived.

They were silent, save for the noises they made brushing through the paper-grass and the soft sounds of their bones sliding against armor and weaponry. He saw dozens of levies staggering along in a horde, their makeshift weaponry clutched in unfeeling hands. Behind them, he could see the indistinct forms of the corporals, their halberds poking up over the heads of the mob that they shepherded forward.

They were not, however, alone. As Clay watched, other forms were stalking through the forest, low to the ground and ethereal lights dancing in their eyes. He felt a burst of shock as he recognized a small pack of Undead hounds, all creeping along at the flanks of the levies. Were these another Undead monster on their own, or did they have masters too?

The corpse dogs weren’t the only newcomers, either. Along the road to his right and left, he saw skeletal horses being ridden by spear-wielding riders. They seemed almost indistinct as they approached; thick mist gathered around them, shrouding their arrival. Levies crowded the ground in front of them, and they waited without advancing, filthy banners tied to their speartips flapping in the breeze.

As the Undead gathered around them, they came to an abrupt halt. For a long moment, they simply stared at the circle of heroes, as if studying them for the coming battle.

Beside Clay, Syr Katherine spoke in a low voice. “Lesson one. Monsters in lower level Lairs have a tendency to eat one another, competing for resources as the Curse grows. In higher level Lairs, and in Dungeons, such competition disappears. Instead, the monsters will cooperate.”

Clay spared a moment to glance at her. She sounded like she was discussing the weather, not looking at a small army of the Undead. When he caught sight of her expression, however, she was just studying the enemy crowding along the road with mild distaste. Orn didn’t seem all that worried, either.

“Lesson two. On an approach to a Dungeon, conserve your resources when you encounter lower level threats. [Feats] and [Charms] have a daily limit. [Styles] and [Sigils] last longer, but they can still be expended. Even arrows and other weapons can run out. You will need them for later. Use [Chants] where possible. Do not waste strength.”

Clay blinked and turned back to the monsters. They were leaning forward, preparing to charge. Her advice was well-timed, even if most of it didn’t really apply to him. His [Experiences] didn’t have an expiration attached to them, and the only magic he could even use were [Chants]. Then again, it explained a lot about how the Ruffians had fought, and why they’d been so interested in using [Chants] during their long patrols around Rodcliff. Baron Pellsglade and the other heroes from home had been just as enthusiastic to put them to use, even when they had access to the power of an adventurer.

Those thoughts faded as he heard Syr Katherine begin a [Chant] under her breath. Taylor began one as well behind him, and to his left, Orn sighed and started what sounded like the Canticle of Ice. Clay blinked in surprise; he hadn’t expected the [Fighter] to use any magic at all, but Orn was at least a level seventeen adventurer. His [Stats] were more than high enough to allow him to use the same magic that Clay had mastered in the Tanglewood.

Clay began the Canticle as well, belatedly catching up to his teachers. His various bonuses aided him as he prepared, and he continued to watch the Undead gathering ahead of him. Killing the levies was useless, but if he could strike at the back ranks…

He made it about halfway through the [Chant] before the Undead charged. They flowed forward in a wave of snarling corpse dogs, thundering hooves, and staggering bones. Clay set himself, still continuing his [Chant], and wondering if he’d even be able to finish it before they were all overwhelmed.

The first to reach him were the dogs. Two of them leaped at him, snarling and snapping. He swung his spear, hoping to push them away and gain time to finish the [Chant].

They both shattered, tumbling backwards in a shower of bones and rotten flesh.

{Corpse Hound slain!}

{Corpse Hound slain!}

He blinked, temporarily stunned by their lack of strength. Were they just some kind of distraction?

Beside him, Orn moved. The Armsman stepped forward, his hammer clenched in one large fist. A mob of levies and hounds raced in towards him, their teeth and weapons outstretched.

Then the [Fighter] swung his weapon, and nearly a dozen Undead went flying backwards. Not a single one within the reach of his arm survived; even those just outside the range of the swing staggered slightly as the wind from its passing knocked them off balance. Clay felt his eyes widen, and his mind shot back to those times when he had sparred with the man. Had Orn really been holding back that much? Or was something else going on?

He turned back as the levies closed in, their weapons reaching for him. They were moving so slowly now, but he didn’t give them the chance to speed up. With quick, efficient swings and stabs, he began knocking the Undead back and down.

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

Clay frowned. Why was this so easy? It was like they weren’t even trying. Had one of the others used a spell to slow them down? A pair of levies rushed in together, a pitchfork and a club clenched in their bony hands. He retaliated with a broad swing, not as strong as Orn’s, but just as effective.

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

As he struck, he heard an unearthly whistle stretch through the trees. The bones of the hounds he had put down began to shiver and reassemble themselves. They were just like the levies, then, only tools for the real monsters in the back.

He looked up and saw them, tucked in behind some of those unnervingly smooth trunks. They wore cloaks that were ragged and falling apart, and their eyes were hollow. Each one had a bow in their hands, and they were fitting bone-white arrows to the strings. Part of him wanted to call a warning to his fellow adventurers, but it would have broken the [Chant]. Instead, he pushed harder, hoping to finish before they could fire.

He managed it just as they loosed, sending a flurry of ice spears back at them even as they shot. With so many targets, Clay decided to divide his shots and hope that he took as many of the monsters down as he could. He’d never used magic against the Undead before, and didn’t know if they would have some kind of resistance. There was only one real way to find out.

The arrows showered down on Clay and his companions…and seemed completely ineffectual. Some of them missed cleanly, while another struck his armor and bounced off. In return, three of the archers fell, along with an equal number of corporals, as his ice spears found their marks.

{Wretched Corporal slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Condemned Forager slain! Soul increases by 20}

{Corpse Hound slain!}

{Wretched Corporal slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Condemned Forager slain! Soul increases by 20}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Condemned Forager slain! Soul increases by 20}

{Corpse Hound slain!}

{Wretched Corporal slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

{Rotted Levy slain!}

The bones of the hounds and levies at his feet abruptly went still, and about half their companions that were still standing tumbled to the ground as well. He heard the adventurers still finishing their own [Chants] and took the time to shout at them. “Aim for the ones in the back! They control the dogs and the mob.”

Without waiting to see if they answered, he started the Refrain [Chant]. He’d gotten most of the targets in front of him, but if he could finish the rest and then help the others, maybe they would still get out of the fight without any casualties.

Then he heard Syr Katherine complete her [Chant] and glanced to the side to see its effect. He froze as twelve different ice spears formed above her head before lancing out towards the distant targets in front of her. Corporals twitched and died as they were impaled; the archers tumbled to the ground in droves. Even the Undead on horseback collapsed, their skeletal mounts becoming nothing but a pile of bones.

Behind him, the earth trembled as Taylor completed her own [Chant]. A glance backward saw entire groups of Undead being swallowed by the earth. The Undead levies that had been facing her collapsed, and the scholarly woman shook her head in disappointment at the apparent lack of challenge. A heartbeat after that, Orn’s [Chant] sent a handful more ice spears into the forest, skewering the last handful of corporals lurking there.

In a matter of moments, the Undead were practically swept from existence. Only a handful of the mounted Undead were still standing on the left, and Orn stepped forward with a grin to face them. They charged across the road, spears ready to strike.

The Armsman moved with brutal precision, smashing horses and riders alike with three sharp swings. Only one of the riders avoided instant destruction by swerving away from the [Fighter] and heading back into the forest.

Clay completed the Refrain a moment later and sent his ice spears after it. He struck it half a dozen times and watched as it fell.

{Skeletal Rider slain! Soul increases by 20}

{Weary Horse slain!}

That quickly, the battle was over. There were still a few levies staggering about on Taylor’s side of the circle, and the [Artifactor] swatted them aside with an almost petulant motion before walking into the forest to kill the corporals that they were attached to. Orn looked around for more riders to kill and shook his head as he found nothing.

An arrow bounced off the Armsman’s plate armor, and Orn grunted in annoyance. He looked over to see one of the archers still standing. “Missed one. Sorry.”

As Clay watched, the [Fighter] bent down and picked up a small, fist-sized stone. Then he reared back and threw it, hurling it with enough force that it seemed to crack the air. The archer’s head shattered a moment later, and it dropped to the ground.

Syr Katherine nodded as Taylor finished off the last corporal and then turned to Clay. “Lesson three. A well-trained companion is worth their weight in gold. Do not forget that you are not alone in your fight, and do not take someone who is unprepared into battle.”

He nodded, still a little stunned by how quickly it had all ended. It was one thing to know that his teachers were impressive in the Academy; it was another to see the clear difference in their skills on the battlefield. Even just seeing how his own abilities had changed made the Undead that had once paralyzed him with fear seem almost unimportant. Was this how the adventurers saw all the lower-level threats?

Before he could say anything more, Syr Katherine turned back along the road. “Let’s keep moving. The Dungeon is still ahead of us, and we don’t want them to have enough time to send more lower-level threats against us. The quicker we move, the faster we can finish our real business.”

They set off down the path again, leaving the corpse-strewn battlefield behind them.