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Dungeon Crawler Darryl
Interlude: Martin (redux)

Interlude: Martin (redux)

“Ready?” Martin asked.

“They better be.” Corey grumbled, cracking his neck and leering at the survivors being herded like sheep.

Some of the people trembled under his gaze while others seemed offended that they were treated like this. Only one person seemed eager to prove himself, and Martin committed his name to memory to make sure that he would be amongst the first to receive a ticket.

The rest, well, there was a reason that they were going to be tested.

Martin checked the minimap, and saw that the clurichauns were now jogging to the camp at an accelerated pace. Two minutes at most.

Just ten minutes ago he thought that that the camp was entirely unprotected and that intervention was necessary to avoid a bloodbath. Then a group of blue dots arrived in the nick of time, and his contact in the camp confirmed that there were silver stars amongst them.

They cut things close, really close. He assumed that leaving camp nigh unprotected had been a ruse to draw him out, but now he wondered if the situation had truly been so dire that he could’ve stormed it and taken over with no resistance.

He dismissed the thought, hindsight was always 20/20. He decided that the risk of it being a trap had been too great at the time, and Martin wasn’t going to criticize past Martin’s judgement with hindsight knowledge.

Back to the present, and the flanking operation that they were planning.

There were seventeen of them now, and nine were going to prove themselves or die. They were all armed, and some of them even had gold box items now. It should be sufficient for the low-level mobs that they were going to attack.

Martin looked at them, and wondered who was going to survive this day. Some people were going to die deserving another chance and three tickets, but that was the risk of battle. He was more concerned about the ones that were going to live by stalling. They agreed about the reaction if any deserters tried to make a run for it, but spotting the people faking commitment was going to be a lot harder.

Martin sighed, and decided that he was just going to have to wing it. There were no actual rules or arbiters, after all. If he said that someone had been too craven during the battle, then tyrannical or not that was his decision and thus the verdict.

The whole point of his mission was to give the means to thrive to those that could survive, if these people couldn’t even do that then they didn’t deserve to reap three lives for their own gain. Shoddy weapons or not, if they couldn’t hold their own when fighting some low-level midgets taken by surprise, then giving them better gear would just be an exercise in futility.

“Alright, move out!” Corey barked out, and reluctantly the group started moving. He lashed out at the wall with his chain, producing a loud clang that made most people wince. “Come on, start running! This isn’t a nice morning stroll. Get moving! Go! Go go go!”

Some people began to jog, a few people actually started running only to notice that they didn’t have to and falling back, and Corey ran towards the few that were still walking. The stragglers wisely picked up the pace.

Martin began moving as well, easily keeping up with the others while half-strolling thanks to his dexterity score. Small and Tall were having a bit more trouble, especially the rotund Small was panting to keep up after a few minutes.

It didn’t matter though, as neither of them was going to fight. When Martin suggested that they should test these people’s commitment by a trial of fire, Corey hadn’t objected. Against all expectations, the hooligan had even suggested that some of his crew should join this test. Including a few of the people that already got a ticket worth of rewards.

Corey shouted at the group to stop tripping over each other trying to be in the back, and no one obeyed. No one wanted to be the first to arrive, and thus the first to die. He cursed loudly, but no one was going to run ahead as long as he didn’t single anyone out.

“Those with platinum and gold box items, take the front!” Corey shouted. “Prove that we didn’t waste them on you! And if I see any of you wuss out when combat begins, I’ll beat you to an inch of your life before someone slits your throat to claim your ticket!”

People grumbled, but obliged. Martin briefly wondered why Corey was being such a hard-ass especially on his own party, but that appeared to be one of the man’s quirks. He favoured Small and Tall and the biker girl Bea, but seemed to despise the others for some reason. Well, Martin wasn’t going to complain. Less nepotism made it easier to divide the spoils equally.

Corey still forced things into his favour, obviously, and his inner circle had gotten a ticket each before anyone else. None of them gained a second yet, and Corey left the distribution of the other tickets mostly to Martin. Much to the annoyance of the rest of old Epsilon. They still gained a ticket by virtue of being amongst the more capable, but the lack of pressure from Corey hadn’t endeared him to his followers.

As a result, two of the nine tickets they managed to reap had been given to one of the ‘bought’ girls and one of the newcomers. Amongst old Epsilon only the thug named ‘Boots’ hadn’t gotten a ticket after he tried to torture someone, claiming that such a depraved act would surely get them another achievement box. That man wasn’t going to receive a ticket any time soon, if Martin could help it.

The rest got… middling rewards. Thugs or otherwise. Martin knew that getting achievements by lacklustre actions would yield lesser items from their boxes, but he underestimated how much the AI favoured his gains before and now punished you for playing things safe and organised.

His own final box had been pretty good considering, though still a theme that Martin wasn’t too fond of. His golden adventuring box was just potions and biscuits as usual, but there was nothing wrong with that. And his platinum box had been a potion of upgrade, improving his holy symbol’s innate spells with an additional skill level. Which was probably useful, once he started using those.

The Crown of Thorns was biting into his scalp, but it was nothing that he couldn’t manage. Unless, of course, his skill to absorb damage for others would be paired with the thorns digging deeper into his flesh. Which, knowing the dungeon, was probably going to be the case.

The golden cross-shaped shield was better, if he’d ever found himself in close-combat he’d have a means of surviving it. He didn’t have it equipped, keeping it in his inventory so that Corey and the others couldn’t read its description. Just in case they turned on him.

Corey had kept his own gains a secret too. He squeezed himself into the tight leather pants that looked like they belonged to a gay cowboy, but those only gave piercing immunity and some stat buffs. The gains of his platinum box he kept a secret, same for his gold weapon box. Martin saw a flash of gold, but didn’t know what new weapon the hooligan got. Corey was still using his chain, which was more than sufficient for most of the mobs they had to deal with.

And, intimidatingly enough, other crawlers too. When he claimed his ticket, Corey had the guy lie down and punched down as if he were a karate master breaking through bricks. Said that it would be over faster if he struck while the guy’s head couldn’t bob back. Turned out that his punches were strong enough to turn human skulls into goop with one hit, bobbing or otherwise.

The rest of the rewards weren’t as great, and perhaps that was why Corey hadn’t pushed for a second ticket. If he didn’t get kills in a more respectable way, he was probably going to get nothing but doubles and shit items. But if that meant that more people got a ticket at all, that was fine with Martin.

Not that more tickets would’ve mattered, as neither of them were going to be fighting this time around. That honour was reserved for those that still had to prove themselves. Martin, Corey and his inner circle were going to stand around, only intervening if things went south or if anyone made a run for it. And the three girls, including the one in a maid uniform who claimed a ticket, were allowed to abstain from the fight to heal the survivors afterwards.

Martin: Fairies are almost there! Pick up the pace and be ready to engage! No loud noises until we attack!

He didn’t know if everyone saw the message, but it would have to do. He couldn’t exactly shout it with the clurichauns literally around the corner. Corey seemed to have the same idea, as he stopped shouting at the people like some drill sergeant to instead just leer at them menacingly.

The clurichauns didn’t share their idea. Banjo music loudly echoed all around for a while now, and they could now hear the sounds of running and snotty noses underneath the cacophony of several badly tuned banjos playing what was barely a melody.

Then the hallway in front of them lit up a bright orange, and the whole group staggered when the wave of hot air hit them a moment later.

“Holy shit, they just toasted like a dozen mobs with one attack!” Smalls said. “Do they have freaking grenades or something?!”

“Get moving!” Corey shouted. “The fairies ain’t stopping either!”

It took him kicking someone’s butt hard enough to push the man two steps forward, but the group began running again. They crossed the corner and brandished their weapons, some of them screaming a hoarse battle cry as they threw themselves at the clurichauns.

Martin was one of the last few to join the four-metre-wide tunnel turned battlefield and see what was going on, and in just those few seconds things escalated.

The first thing he noticed was the stark light and dark contrast. The people defending the other end of the hallway were standing underneath a powerful torch spell that was almost like a waning sun. Meanwhile the grey-skinned midgets were running across blackened cinderblocks and the ashes of their own comrades to get to the humans, creating an almost symbolic battle of light defending against the numerous eager forces of darkness.

That first impression was quickly discarded, however, as it was nothing but a coincidence. The clurichauns had no such dark theme on their side, where the light grey cinderblock background made the darker grey leprechauns look normal-ish in the light of the torches that Small and Tall were holding aloft.

The second detail was how neither side was faring poorly against these creatures. On the other side he could hear the redhead girl cackle in delight as she killed multiple clurichauns with every swing of her powerful club, turning them all into paste as powerful players were wont to do. She was flanked by two others with exotic weapons with some magical powers to them.

But his side wasn’t doing much worse, as even a good hit from their mundane weapons sufficed to kill these creatures. They had been hesitant at first, but his people gained courage once they realised that they were winning. As the hallway was barely wide enough for five people to fight side by side, some were even struggling to get to the clurichauns.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

It seemed like he didn’t have to worry about desertion, at least not right now. Martin couldn’t help but smile. If this experience would carry over into future courage, then everyone here would be worthy of their tickets.

Two of the gold-boxers had withdrawn from the frontlines, but that was to be expected. The one called Poncho still preferred the use of his bow, so after the initial engagement it was no wonder that he slinked back to shoot his black-feathered arrows through gaps in the line. The other one, Gunther, was now wielding a pike with enough reach for him to stand two lines back if he wanted to. He allowed someone else to take his place in the front, and awkwardly stabbed at the clurichauns with downward thrusts as if he was harpooning fish in a barrel.

The two in front weren’t wasting their weapons either. Earl was waving his dagger around as if the clurichauns were water, and to his blade they might as well be. There was barely any resistance as he slashed through them, even slicing through bone with ease. And Ger, the only man not from old Epsilon to have claimed a ticket, was swinging his mace in broad swings with much the same effect as Elise on the other side.

Third, he noticed that the pellets that the clurichauns were firing at the defenders were arching oddly towards Darryl, who was holding up his shield almost as if it was a giant magnet attracting the projectiles. Some kind of skill, assumedly.

They didn’t have anything like that, but they probably wouldn’t need it either. The clurichauns weren’t firing at them at all, so there was no reason to worry there. With almost two dozen clurichauns dead before them and his men seeming more invigorated than ever, this wou-

And then Ger’s head exploded.

The fairy didn’t even laugh or bask in the glory of her kill, she just shouted at the clurichauns to fire at will while she conjured up another magic missile.

The magic missile struck Earl, and did absolutely nothing. Even the thug seemed surprised that he still lived, before remembering that his golden box cape granted him immunity to force damage. He then grunted in surprise and began slashing at the clurichauns that used his confusion to hug onto his legs.

The rest of them weren’t faring as well as him. Two of the people without tickets were felled by a barrage of pebbles that the clurichauns fired at them, and the grey midgets immediately jumped through the gaps in their ranks to encircle the survivors.

This, combined with the Taint debuff that they all had, broke morale faster than victory bolstered it before. Some people tried to make a run for it, and were immediately clamped upon by clurichauns. Others tried to defend themselves, but the clurichauns were swarming them with abandon.

Martin trembled as he saw people die in front of his eyes, dying fast and ugly deaths that they couldn’t prevent in any way. He told himself that there were going to be people dying during this battle, but to see them killed by gleeful little monsters right in front of him shook him worse than when his own hands took four lives.

It wasn’t even a matter of whether they were worthy or not. These people were struggling to stay alive, and the clurichauns were relentlessly attacking them without caring for their own fallen. They just kept coming, showing how severely he underestimated being outnumbered four to one.

“Well, leader, what are we to do?” Corey shouted. “Come on, don’t choke up now!”

His voice was mocking, and his words only served to draw attention to Martin’s indecisiveness in the face of adversity. Still, they were true. Martin was nailed to the ground, uncertain what to do.

Rats, Bur-buns and a single Ratling Scumbag that one time. Those were the only mobs that Martin truly fought before. He hadn’t even killed a Brindle Vespa yet. At this moment, staring at people being torn apart before him, Martin realised that he had never fought anything truly dangerous or numerous.

Martin, the mighty rat slayer.

Martin, the man who killed four people claiming that the worthy should be granted the means to survive, was found wanting. Worse, if he couldn’t control himself, he himself was unworthy.

Unworthy of these items that he was carrying.

Unworthy of the crusade he preached of.

Unworthy of everything he stood for, yet guilty of all the atrocities he caused.

Those four people, whose last moments were engraved in his memories. If he was unworthy, they died for nothing. If these people were being torn apart despite being worthy, then what did his whole mission even mean? If everything he preached was but hot air, then…

No! Martin killed four people. Four individuals had died for his mission, for his ill-gained treasures. He couldn’t let their deaths be in vain, he wouldn’t let his mission die because he was unworthy!

“Sacred Flame!” Martin croaked out weakly, feeling the holy symbol on his chest warm up before flinging a chunk of white and light-blue flames at the massacre.

The flame broke apart on impact as if it were a liquid, and two clurichauns screamed in pain. It was a drop in the bucket, and other clurichauns simply jumped over the flames blocking their path.

A tiny prismatic ball of bright colours rapidly changing into one another flew over his head and struck the fairy, freezing her solid. A second later she broke out of the ice, shivering but still alive and fuming in anger.

“Sacred Flame!” Martin shouted again, firing at the fairy. She easily dodged the bright projectile, which flew overhead and arced unnaturally to hit Darryl’s shield on the other side of the battlefield. Two more fairies appeared from that side of the field, reinforcements to deal with their surprise attack before returning their focus to the other side.

“Chromatic Orb!” Bea shouted, throwing another one of those brightly coloured balls at the fairies. It seemed like she was a better shot than him, as the first fairy dodged it only for the second one to clip it with her arm. The orb’s randomised damage turned into electricity this time, shocking her so badly that she was foaming at the mouth as her wings gave out and sent her spiralling down.

“Prayer of Hope!” Martin shouted, realising that his buff might be of better use than his offensive spell. His admittedly small mana pool drained to just one point, and rays of light fell over the battlefield. He didn’t know how the dungeon exactly reduced fear in a person, but it seemed to work as the last three survivors started to move more decisively instead of losing time on panicked jerks.

Corey screamed defiantly, and jumped in front of Poncho before the midgets could overwhelm the archer. “Retreat, ya daft lot! Retreat and regroup behind me!”

The chain swung out and simply splattered clurichauns wherever it connected. One of the fairies fired a Magic Missile at him, and Corey punched it. His chain lashed out at the fairy before she managed to wrap her head around that, and the chain splattered her torso leaving only loose limbs flying everywhere.

Tall screamed a hoarse cry and swung the oversized broadsword that was actually broader than the slender kid’s waist, smashing through a few clurichauns running towards Corey. A moment later Small took Corey’s other side and fired his blowgun into the crowd at close range. Anything that came too close the fat man struck with a metal pipe without even taking the blowgun from his lips.

Bea cast Surprise Deck, and drew five cards. She quickly glanced at them before throwing them at the clurichauns, each card causing a mildly different effect as they connected. Her final card she threw at Gunther, the three of hearts failing to heal him due to the Taint effect.

The clurichauns died in droves before the four of them as the survivors fell back and regrouped per Corey’s orders. Gunther still stabbed at any clurichauns getting too close and Poncho fired the occasional arrow, but Earl and Boots’ morale was broken.

It didn’t matter. Corey and his inner circle didn’t need any more help, slaughtering the clurichauns with ease and barely taking any damage. Even with the mess that the rout had been and Martin still shaking in his boots, these four held the line with almost contemptuous ease. Using Tall’s broadsword as a shield, they even had an answer for the slingshot barrage.

Another fairy fell to a chromatic orb, and Small managed to blow a bolt straight through the still half-frozen fairy. The last dozen clurichauns were no longer fearlessly advancing, their superior numbers running out between the massacre on the other side and the second wind here.

“Martin.” Corey said, his voice like a lash. Martin flinched. “Give me Charlie’s ticket, and Sam’s. They’re dying, and they’re Tainted so there’s no healing them.”

“But…” Martin whispered.

Corey glared at him, and despite appearances and his charisma buffs Martin shrunk under the man’s gaze. He flinched in the face of battle while Corey more than proved worthy, and they both knew it. Everyone here knew it.

“Let’s put them out of their misery.” Corey said. “Before the other side can object.”

Martin sighed, but took out the two tickets. Corey grabbed them and tossed one at Boot’s feet.

“Alright Seith! If you’re such a bad mofo then put your money where your mouth is, and do it quick!” Corey said, Boots trembling in his boots even more than Martin did before.

Corey turned around and walked to one of the men lying in a pool of their own blood. Sam’s legs were twisted with pieces of bone sticking out, a clurichaun’s hug somehow dealing such devastating damage, while his lungs slowly filled with blood where a slingshot broke one of his ribs.

There was a sickening crunch, and Corey jumped up to lvl10. The man spat to the side and grimly muttered something under his breath, but steeled his face as he turned to the remnant clurichauns and the silver stars behind them.

Boots was slower as he walked to Ger’s dead body and picked up the mace. His hands were shaking as he raised it above his head, but Charlie still died when it went down.

Bea conjured up another draw and threw a nine of spades at the last banjo-playing clurichaun, finally silencing the horrid noise. The other mobs whimpered and looked up at the last surviving fairy for guidance, only for her to make a run for it.

Corey snatched her out of the air when she tried to dart past him, and there was a crack more akin to a dry branch snapping than bones breaking when he squeezed his fist.

“Martin. Stop whimpering and get ready for a fight.” Corey said. “We lost a lot of men, but they’re worse off than us. You’re still able to heal yourself, so be ready to use that crown of yours to take our damage and then heal yourself. Danielle, be ready to heal Martin as well!”

The maid nodded and brandished her duster. The two girls behind her were less confident, but then again there was a reason that Danielle got a ticket before them.

“Are- Are we really going to fight?” Martin said. “We agreed to-”

“Did they agree to anything? There’s nothing stopping them from attacking us when we retreat, and I prefer to face them on chosen grounds if we’re going to fight.” Corey said. “Now be useful and either get ready or step away from the Tainted corpses.”

Martin nodded and stepped away as Small and Tall went around looting. The gold and platinum box items were already gone, but there were still plenty of clurichauns dropping various junk items, moonshine and their slingshots.

“And you! Git!” Corey bellowed at the cowering clurichauns.

They flinched and several soiled themselves, snottering all over themselves pathetically.

“I said, GIT!” He shouted.

The clurichauns started crying, but turned around and ran towards the silver stars.

“Oh, you’re approaching me?” The blood-caked redhead said with a vicious smile, her aura of intimidation being as strong as Corey’s without needing to scream.

The clurichauns stopped and a few turned back, their teary eyes more pleading than planning to attack Corey.

Corey didn’t shout, he just grimaced and cracked his knuckles. The clurichauns whimpered and turned around again.

The redhead rolled her shoulders and used her bat to draw a line in front of her. The trail of blood she left was but one more streak in the mess of corpses and gore already messing up the ground here, but the clurichauns got the message.

Some of the clurichauns curled up while others went catatonic where they stood, their eyes glazing over.

Small and Tall took Corey’s sides and added their menacing mugs to his intimidating glare, raising the intimidation factor to a mild physical presence that Martin could actually feel.

The silver stars and their new allies mimicked the manoeuvre, but despite their numbers it wasn’t the same. Corey and his old pals had actual levels in the Intimidation Skill, Corey’s was even lvl2, while the other side was relying purely on the redhead. The clurichauns were slow, but they slowly walked over to the silver stars.

Then she levelled up her intimidation, or at least that’s what Martin assumed happened, as the aura from the other side grew stronger in response. The clurichauns stopped walking, and the waterworks broke again.

“Enough of this shit.” Corey said, cracking his neck loudly. “Just-”

One of the clurichauns exploded. There had been no lead-up, no attack either. It just stood there and spontaneously combusted.

“What the…” Bea said.

Another clurichaun’s head popped like a balloon from the sheer competing intimidation checks trapping it, and then a third blew.

One by one, and sometimes two or three at the same time, the last clurichauns just died.

“Well, I guess this means we won?” The redhead said, looking at her teammates with the same confusion as everyone else.

“Thank you for your help!” Darryl said, hesitating before adding the next part. “I’m sorry for your losses…”

Martin understood the hesitation saying that, as they all saw how Corey and Boots killed two of their own.

“Now, I think we can all use some rest and a hot shower.” Darryl continued. “So let’s call a truce and all leave this place without further hostilities.”

“Corey, they-” Martin said.

“Shut up.” Corey snapped at him.

“This truce, what are the specifics!?” Corey shouted over to Darryl.

“Neither of us attacks the other. We don’t pursue you and you don’t attack anyone of our camp!” The man wearing glasses answered. “The truce holds until either side breaks it!”

Corey smiled. “Reasonable. Very well then, we ag-”

Suddenly, the world went black and Martin felt himself turn weightless.