Tommy resisted the urge to grin as the group dispersed; Keith took so little care with his words they were easy to twist and Harry, that ignorant buffoon, had done half the work for him by storming off on his own. It was about time he did something of value in this dungeon. Ironically, he was one of the few Tommy was sure would make it back. For all his many intolerable qualities, there was a reason Tommy kept him around, the man was damn near impossible to kill. Still, even if this dungeon was soft enough to provide rest stops, that boar had packed a punch. There was a good chance his team would be pruned of one or two of its weaker members. Sending Keith off alone might be a mistake, he had family who would raise a fuss if he died, but everyone knew dungeon diving was dangerous and anyone who knew he’d let the kid go off alone had done the same. He supposed he’d see who returned then plan from there.
For now, he had his own door to enter, embossed with a stylised eclipse. His nose, while not as sensitive as some beastkin, was picking up an acrid scent. Nothing else for it, with a torch in one hand he swung open the door only for a plume of smoke to emerge. The room seemed to be filled with it, Tommy noted eddies swirling from a metal grille in the floor as he tried not to choke. Even with his [toxin resistance] helping him survive the smoke, Tommy knew this was going to be damn unpleasant. Arming himself with one of his backup daggers and a deep breath of clearer air he plunged into the room.
With visibility cut to a few feet he turned to his other senses. Smell and even taste was all char. There were enough hints of fragrance that he might be able to identify some of the types of wood being burnt if he took some time, but for now it was enough to know that the mana draw of [toxin resistance] was small enough that none of the smoke was unusually poisonous. As for touch, though his exposed skin still protested at the odd ember, and the ash would be hell to get out of his hair, the dry heat would merely be unpleasant. Sounds however provided a clue, a steady metallic clanking like a drawbridge being lowered one rung at a time echoed from deeper in the room and almost drowned out the footsteps of an enemy drawing close.
The noise was all the warning Tommy had before the head of a halberd carved through the smoke ahead of him. A quick backstep had the swing fall short before he had to sidestep a thrust from the pointed tip of the polearm. Rushing forward to stay inside its reach Tommy spied a robed skeleton through the swirling eddies. It was pulling the weapon up to try and defend but Tommy was much faster, his dagger finding purchase in one of the top joints of the spine. Before he could separate head and body, he heard the tear of fabric and caught a glint of metal reflecting the faint light of the torch in his peripheral. Well-honed reflexes had him diving to the side into a roll and jumping back to his feet.
The Skeleton looked almost comical with a dagger precariously embedded in its neck but the third arm that had emerged from the folds of the robes with some kind of punch dagger was much less amusing. Particularly as Tommy had to duck under another slash from the thing’s halberd. Despite how brief the encounter was Tommy was already feeling the strain in his lungs as he tried to hold his breath through the exertion, eyes starting to water from the acrid smoke. Not that any of this would be a problem for a bloody skeleton Tommy thought as he weaved past another strike and pulled another blade only for - shink! – The blade of the punch dagger fanned out into three somehow and caught his strike between the blades. Frustration flowed through Tommy, how many tricks did the bloody thing have?
As it tried to clobber him with the haft of the halberd Tommy swung his tail round and felt a satisfying impact against a bony leg. The ensuing stumble was all Tommy needed, torch filled fist impacted the skull with a crunch sending it careening into the smoke as the rest of the body clattered to the ground. A few vindictive kicks made sure it wouldn’t get up again, though any sense of satisfaction from the action was stolen by the sharp pain of a cramp, his body reminding him once more of the cost of using [muscle stimulant] earlier.
A few moments later, having darted back to the entrance for another breath of air, Tommy was once again proceeding deeper. The chamber had a sharp bend which he had just navigated when he heard and faintly felt a dull whump! Erratically drifting eddies of ash and smoke all suddenly shunted deeper into the room by whatever that was. Annoying skeletons aside, Tommy was glad he hadn’t found out what was behind that particular door. Hair standing on end he found the source of the clanging.
In one of the walls were two holes, sized and placed such that one might be able to put their arms through them. More interestingly, directly above was what he had originally thought was a large sheet of metal which dropped down a short distance with every clank, likely hanging from some sort of rope or chain and slotted into grooves protruding from the wall. His first impression was that it would eventually cover the holes and prevent access as that amount of metal would be too heavy for most to move. As he had that thought a vicious realisation came to him and he squinted to try and get a better look at the bottom of the metal through the smoke, sure enough it held an edge. It was a giant blade that dropped a little with every breath that you couldn’t take in this smoke-filled nightmare.
Judging he had time - if less of it than he would like - and little choice in the matter he began to cautiously probe one of the holes, silently cursing the short races that he had to squat to reach them. Pleasantly surprised to find an absence of blades or poisoned needles within Tommy was suspicious to find a stone disk once his arm was pushed in past the elbow. Another clank from above as the blade dropped down ever closer had him rushing to pull the disk free only for his fingers to brush more disks. Searching around with a hint of panic he found that the holes led to some sort of slowly rotating platform covered in disks.
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With a nervous glance at the blade above and thoughts of the gold the core would bring, Tommy dropped the torch and shoved his second hand in, quickly beginning to feel over the disks for some way to identify the correct one, he wasn’t so naïve as to think any would do. He swiftly found that each had a pattern engraved on their centre, but which was correct? He found a moon, a sun… the eclipse on the door! He reasoned that must be what he was looking for but his lungs were beginning to burn and the blade descending uncomfortably close but he should be able to make it.
As he ran his fingers over the cold stone attempting to discern the eclipse, shooting pain ran down his right hand as it seized up. Tommy once more cursed [muscle stimulant] as he pulled out the hand and tried to resist breathing in smoke. A glance at the blade in the waning light as the torch was absorbed showed he should still have time, though it was beginning to run close. Nerves taut as he realised he wouldn’t be able to see it if he continued any longer, he considered pulling out the other arm and leaving with what intel he had. The thought of Harry’s reaction if he returned without the disk was enough to steel him to stay the course, he could do it. With a clank the blade began to drop once more, only this time it didn’t stop.
A sense of faintness rolled over Tommy before burning pain radiated to his left shoulder drawing an agonised scream from the maimed man that devolved to a coughing fit as scorching smoke filled his lungs. To Tommy’s credit he quickly realised the danger enough to move the cramping hand from the stump spurting blood to fumble with the stopper of a foul-tasting potion bottle that he barely managed to down between sputtering coughs as he staggered towards where he thought the exit was. The costly potion seemed to be working quickly, or maybe he was just running out of blood to spurt at this point, but he was struggling for breath and felt weakness seeping into his limbs as he tried to navigate through the shifting darkness with blurry eyes. As his weak staggering led him to a wall he took heart, he’d found the bend and set his course accordingly, or at least attempted to.
His whole body was screaming at him to just fall down and try to breathe, except the arm that was screaming it was missing. Swiftly formed scabs on the stump told him the potion had done what it could for the latter and steely determination managed the former. Faintly through the darkness he thought he saw light and barely on his feet he stumbled towards it. He had to breathe; he was coughing but was it getting easier? Suddenly he was out and through tear-stained eyes as he coughed violently and fell to his knees he saw Lisa approaching. He could barely focus on what she was saying but seemed to be asking if he was OK and making excuses about why she hadn’t come to help, the useless bitch.
“Where’s Harry?” Tommy wheezed cutting through her chittering, as his mind began to clear he realised it was time to make that ball of lard useful, but he had to move fast.
“He hasn’t come back yet…” Lisa began, rushing to support him as he clambered to his feet once more, still wheezing heavily.
“Help me to him.” Tommy ordered, feeling some strength return as he breathed deep of the clearer air and [toxin resistance] continued to do its work. He was still wobblier than he’d like, even with the potion he’d lost a lot of blood.
As he staggered through the droplet marked door, leaning heavily on Lisa for support, he tuned out her rapid chatter. He had no interest in her veneer of concern, he needed to quickly consider his next steps. The skill he’d acquired from the carrion-grafter scorpion might let him get everything he wanted, but once he started things would get bloody and he would be committed. Tommy felt himself tensing up, could he really do it? Give up everything he knew for his arm and a payday?
With a loud splash Harry burst up from the well a few paces away and clung to its rim like a lifeline as he gasped loudly. Tense as he was, Tommy flinched, but his eyes met Harry’s and in that moment his decision was made. Even gasping for breath and likely injured, Harry looked at him and saw a cripple now. Things couldn’t stay the same, so now he’d have to die.
Tommy didn’t hesitate, muscles burned and bulged as he activated [muscle stimulant] once more. His tail swung towards the unsuspecting Lisa, still off-balance from Harry’s sudden appearance, [paralytic venom] and [enhance poison] ensuring as the stinger dug into her back she’d be out of the fight, even as his remaining hand pressed down hard on Harry’s head. Walruses are adept at holding their breath for long periods, a trait Harry shared, but that matters little if the deep gasp you were taking when you came up for air is filled mostly with water. Tommy had noted well the limits of Harry’s abilities over the years and knew suffocation was one of the few things his [regeneration] couldn’t heal.
Lisa collapsed to the ground beside him as Harry began to thrash beneath his arm. His muscles burning even as Harry’s [rage] was no doubt building but Tommy kept his weight above the brute and brought his stinger down upon Harry’s arms where they grasped the well. Slowly the thrashing stopped, then the bubbles stopped, Tommy’s pounding heart began to slow and he felt the burn from his overstrained muscles begin to coalesce as they relaxed, then the body began to surge upwards. Tommy quickly shifted all his focus back to keeping the head beneath the water, upward momentum became bouncing off the well walls, the crack of a skull against stone audible over the churning water as Harry attempted to find some way, any way to the surface and Tommy desperately blocked him. Then almost as quickly as it started, the body went limp.
With Lisa twitching on the ground beside him and Harry finally seemingly dead, it was time to see if it was all worth it. Plunging his stinger deep into Harry’s waterlogged form he activated his [corpse drain]. One of the nastiest aspects of the carrion-grafter scorpion was its ability to temporarily steal skills from fresh cadavers, thankfully it was compatible with his particular beastkin anatomy, and he knew just the skill he needed to steal. He let his [stimulant] skill fade away, accepting the cramps and nausea, as he felt the [regeneration] skill form within him. He gulped as he hoped his arm hadn’t been severed too long, would not having it when he gained the skill make a difference? As the dull pain turned to odd tingling and before his eyes scabs turned into fresh skin, even with hair! He had his answer, it was even helping the effect of [stimulant] overuse! Truly this skill was wasted on Harry.
“Now to clean up loose ends.” Tommy drew his dagger and leaned down beside Lisa who was mumbling something but it was too slurred to make out, “No hard feelings love but I don’t trust you, and more importantly, I don’t like to share.”