ArtStation - Medival Dungeon [https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/048/793/804/4k/alex-perekotin-dungeon-4.jpg?1650962835]
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Her mouth widened in protest, Daria wanted to scream at him to use his head. But before she could say anything, that stubborn, arrogant, man, rushed away from her. His footsteps, surprisingly light for a warrior of his size as he disappeared down the left passageway. The only thought that ran through her mind, was perhaps that this was as good a time as any to turn back. Perhaps Lord Gauldryon had changed his mind, and needed her.
But then as she thought more about how he would react, she realized she would have failed him. Failed in her duty to protect Gregor, that damned, insufferable fool.
Sniffing her nose in annoyance at what she would do when she found him, she swung her head back to the right, braids clicking softly. And wondered, if she should do as Gregor had said, and check the right tunnel? It looked old and abandoned, but if there was a chance that enemies lurked within, they could be caught in a vice, their only way out, cut off. If not, and Gregor came up against foes he could not defeat, he could be killed without her.
Hesitating for a brief instant, she eventually let out a heavy sigh, and decided having no escape was not worth the risk. She would do as he asked, and be damned if he died, it was his own fault for taking off like that. And besides that, Gregor of all things was a survivor, and probably knew what he was doing.
Warhammer unhooked from the straps on her back, she neared the second tunnel entrance. Her breathing heavy as she examined shattered wooden struts that had grown rotten, she couldn't help but wonder who had built this place. The rubble that blocked half the passageway, mixed in with a strong stench of sulfur that reminded her of rotten eggs. But what was worse was the light humming sound that pounded her eardrums. Drawn inwards, she felt her thoughts become foggy, her lips dry, and for some reason she had difficulty remembering who she was. Her vision blurred, and that light humming sound grew so strong as to begin a sharp nagging pain at the back of her mind.
Swaying on her feet from a sudden wave of dizziness, she thought she could hear voices within that buzzing drone, and fell to her knees. The skeletal remains that lay to one side of her, of warriors in rusted chainmail that struggled to claw their way forward. Her need to see what was at the end of the tunnel, urgent now, like a siren's call that she had to answer. Blood trickling into her mouth from her nostrils, she crawled on her hands and knees, her mind screaming at her as though it were on fire, when she saw it. A huge glowing white orb that hung in a circular dome, surrounded by dozens of dried out corpses that looked to be made of ash, and its surface marked with runes that flashed gold.
Caught in a wave of ecstasy and pain, she felt herself reaching out for it, utterly oblivious to the carpet of dead, when she felt something. She didn’t know how to explain it, but it pushed her back from the edge. Growling an oath at the agony that flared within her mind, she forced herself up from her knees, saw the globe flash brighter, before she tossed her warhammer to crack against its side. Fracturing in an instant, it smashed into the floor, and released her mind.
Gasping for breath as though having run a thousand miles, she could still taste the metallic tang of blood in her mouth, and stared around a chamber full of desiccated corpses. Most of whom, reached out for the now dead globe like it was their god, their agonized expressions, full of both horror and pleasure. The terrifying thought, that she could have ended up like one of them, caused her to shake uncontrollably. But not so much as the thought of abandoning Gauldryon. He was the one good thing in this world, and she was determined to protect him. No matter that the first time they had met, she had tried to kill him. But then, she had been a different woman, her mind full of grief, her belly empty with hunger, when she found Gauldryon in a deserted town. He had been searching for survivors from a bandit raid, and she had thought him easy pickings. But despite all that, he had taken her in, and trusted her. He was simply that kind of man, kind hearted, and generous, unlike this Gregor. Perhaps that was another reason why she disliked him so.
Gathering herself up, she gingerly walked over towards the cracked globe, curious to learn what it was. The dome around her, somehow darker now as light seeped out of its damaged body. This did not look to be the work of magic, but rather a machine. One with cogs, wheels, and fluid. And one designed to kill intruders.
Gazing back at where she had come from, she couldn't help but notice how different the underworld was here. Where the tunnel had begun has a regular mine, she thought she was now in the remnants of a city. The gray canvas walls around her, smooth and unbroken, and made of a single block of stone. It made her question who had made this device, and why? Why would demons need to protect themselves from the outside world? It made no sense.
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Shaking herself from such undesirable sentiments, she moved on, finding that the passageway continued. This tunnel however was made of smooth white walls, covered in green moss. It was the type of advanced architecture she would have expected of elves or dwarves, not these foul monsters that lurked underground. But on the walls, she could see faint markings in a language she could not understand, as well as drawings. Simple yet fluid, it had a grace that took her breath away as she stared at figures flying through the clouds, and a city that put all others to shame.
Eventually pulling her gaze away, she found her heart beating rapidly, though she did not know why. The moment she exited the tunnel, she paused, and stared down in amazement, when she heard a high pitched scream.
~*~
With that insufferable woman out of the way, Gregor walked along a torchlit path. The tunnel, made up of a rich brown limestone that looked golden in the flamelight. The shadows that crept up beside him, revealing his huge hulking form, and greatsword held out in front of him. Anything that dared to approach, would have a hard time surviving what Gregor would do to them. Not when he was so close to seeing her again.
Jaw clenched tight to stop himself from gnashing his teeth at the thought of all the time he had wasted, he sniffed the air, nostrils flaring at the familiar smell of unwashed bodies. When he heard a voice whisper in his ear, “Welcome home, Gregor. You are finally ready.” The violet coloured eyes that flashed into the back of his mind, showing him the image of a beautiful woman casually resting on her throne.
Rage building up inside of him, he hissed, “where have you been? Did you know Kira was down here?” As well as a thousand other questions. But the sorceress simply waved those questions aside. “You know what you must do now. Kill my brother.”
But even as he thought to ask why? She smiled, “it is the only way to save her.” Her words, igniting a simmering heat in his belly. She had known. Had known all along where she was.
Furious that he had not realized this before, he wanted to pummel the stone, he wanted to scream that he would find her! But if there was anything he had learned in his lessons with the dragon, he had to temper his rage, channel it into a weapon of incredible power. But before he could think to do that, it dawned on him that he recognized that foul stench. Goblins. Dozens of them by his guess. All gathered together in a cave ahead of him.
The thought that they were down here as well, irked him. He should have known that creatures such as that, would enjoy this infernal darkness. But if anything, he was eager for the battle. Eager to release his pent up rage. The woman’s voice, like hot knives in his skull as she purred. “Be careful, my sweet.” Her voice, somehow stronger in the underworld as he muttered back, “I will find you!” The totem poles he next came upon, standing tall to either side of a cave entrance. Their primitive skulls assembled together from their blood, feces, and bones to ward off enemies. But Gregor was an altogether different breed of monster. Feet hitting the stone pavement, he could hear the sound of guttural voices as well as pickaxes.
“You tink, masters, come soon?”
“Shhh, no talk, you workz now. Or I tellz, masters, you bad.”
“You iz bad, noz me, I cutz many shinies.”
His first instinct upon hearing those nassally voices was to rush right in, and murder the puny mudsaps. But as his breathing slowed down, he noticed glyphs on the rock walls that sparkled with magical energy, bones attached to a tripwire, and a cleverly disguised pit that blocked the way forward. He could also make out over twenty goblins in the gloom, the pitiful green skinned creatures, wearing nothing but dirty loincloths as they toiled in the dirt. Their spears and bucklers lay down beside them. The brown stew that sat in the middle of their campsite, bubbling over to reveal bones, fur, and red meat. And if not for the fact they were in the underworld, he would have said they were cooking rabbits, but no rabbit had six eye sockets as the tiny skull popped into view.
Palms heavy with sweat, he considered simply going back and finding Daria. Maybe she had found an easier way through this place. But even as he studied the traps laid out at the entrance to their hidey hole, he couldn’t help but come up with a better plan.
Almost chuckling to himself at the devilishness of it, he skipped back a few steps, picked up a stone, and began screaming in agony. The goblins gathered about the cook fire and walls, staring up at him in shock, before they let out wild cries of furies, and hurtled forward with upraised spears.
Waiting until the very last second as they came for him, Gregor could see the hatred in their golden eyes, when he tossed the stone, and triggered the magical protective runes. The concussive blast that struck outwards, blowing debris in his direction, and causing the creatures to explode in a spray of blood and guts that ripped through their frail bodies. The ground littered with dead bodies.
Half laughing in joy to see their decimated ranks, he waited for the dust to settle, his cheek stinging from a cut, and immediately rushed inside. The pit full of spikes filled with three dead goblins as he leaped over and sliced down the remaining survivors. But even that did not seem to satisfy him as he looted their corpses finding water skins, some bread, and spoiled meat that he tossed away. He could also hear more voices further on, as well as heavy plodding footsteps. The thought of facing more however, only made Gregor smile as Lost Flame swung up into a ready stance.